Chapter Text
When it came to relationships, Yamcha had no clue what he was doing.
Sure, he could flirt his way into the bedroom, no problem, but as soon as he saw that it might be taken further than some shitty sex, he would run the other way and find someone new. It wasn’t his fault really. He wanted a real relationship, he really did, but the reason he couldn’t commit was because of his ex-girlfriend, Bulma. She didn’t do anything, and he didn’t blame her for their breakup. But it was messy and weird for a good time after. They didn’t become friends again for a while, but once they did, it started to even out again.
But relationship-wise, he didn’t understand why he should try with any other woman. Not after that.
So here Yamcha was, sitting in his living room and tossing a baseball in one hand. Up and down and up and down. He had just gotten back from a long day of training with Tien, which always required a recovery period of at least a day. His arms were sore and his back was still healing from their last training session. Yamcha wasn’t as skilled as he was when he was younger, now only being able to train for half a day with breaks in between.
Yamcha’s eyes followed the ball as it plopped onto the couch, making a soft thunk as he stood to prep a meal. As he bustled around looking for food, he thought harder about his life.
Even with me getting older, I still should have the same passion, he thought to himself, carefully taking out ingredients and placing them on the countertop.
Even Tien keeps himself busy. Training, farm life… He’s got it all covered.
His thoughts were interrupted by Puar entering the room, her ears twitching.
“I didn’t know you came back! Thought you’d be out longer!”
Yamcha looked over to her and smiled. That’s one thing right in the world. His best friend.
“Hey, Puar! Sorry, I thought you heard the door. I was thinking about cookin’ up something for dinner.”
Puar nodded, flying over to help him grab some of the veggies from the fridge. They had been ordering food to their house a lot more lately, but Puar liked the moments of cooking with Yamcha. They felt normal.
“Did you have fun out there?”
She asked it casually, smiling as they started to prep. Yamcha’s smile faltered for a moment before he nodded, tying his hair back.
“Was nice to see Tien again. It’s been a little while since I’ve gotten time to actually train with him.”
Tien meant a lot to Yamcha; all his friends did. But there was always something different with Tien. He was always ready to offer a hand when Yamcha needed it, and while he was stubborn and didn’t always accept it, Yamcha appreciated the gesture.
They had been training together for years. Tien was there during the big breakup, which helped keep Yamcha sane, and he was there during the fight with Nappa.
They died together.
That moment replayed in Yamcha’s head a lot. Especially when training.
When Yamcha was attacked by the Saibaman. When Chiaotzu self-destructed. And when Tien used his last bit of energy to fight back, just to die.
Sure, Yamcha saw him in the afterlife, but god.
Knowing he wasn’t able to stop him. Knowing he couldn’t do more.
That hurt worse than any breakup.
Yamcha was snapped back to reality when Puar dropped the veggies into a pan, the sizzling making him look over and nod.
“Oh. Thank you for chopping those—”
“It’s no problem!” Puar said, nodding back to him. “You seem out of it. Do you want me to finish, and you can rest?”
Yamcha thought for a moment before nodding again, sitting on the couch with his head in his hand.
“Sorry Puar, training really got to me today.”
“Is it because of Tien?”
He froze, looking back to Puar and shaking his head.
“No, no, he didn’t do anything.”
Puar cocked her head to the side and shrugged. “Okayy… But you’ve got to stop stressing about what happened. It’s been years.”
Yamcha’s face flushed. He knew it had been years. And he knew everyone was fine now, so really he didnt have to worry anymore.
But he still cared so much, and he didn’t know why.
The quiet of the house settled around him again. The soft clatter of Puar cooking, the hum of the fridge, the distant evening breeze pushing against the windows. Yamcha leaned back into the couch cushions and closed his eyes.
Training with Tien had been… different today.
Not bad. Just different.
Usually, they barely talked when they trained. It was a way for them to hang out without having any awkward moments. A nod, a quick greeting, then straight into sparring until Yamcha’s lungs burned and his arms shook. Tien was disciplined like that. Focused. Efficient.
But today, Tien had paused. Just once.
Yamcha remembered wiping sweat off his forehead, breathing hard, when Tien had stepped closer than usual. Not to strike. Not to block. Just to look at him.
“You’re pushing yourself too hard,” Tien had said.
Yamcha had laughed it off, brushing past him. “C’mon, don’t start acting like Chi-Chi. I'm fine.”
Tien didn't laugh.
Instead, he’d just stood there, watching him with that steady, impossible gaze. Three eyes, all locked onto him like they could see straight through every dumb joke Yamcha used to dodge real conversations.
“You don’t have to prove anything,” Tien had said quietly.
Yamcha didn’t know why that stuck with him so much.
Maybe because nobody really said things like that to him anymore.
Maybe because it was Tien saying it.
Yamcha groaned softly and dragged a hand down his face.
What is wrong with me…
Across the room, Puar glanced over from the stove.
“You’re thinking again.”
“I’m always thinking.”
“Yeah,” she said. “But now you’re doing the weird face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you look like someone told you the world’s gonna end tomorrow.”
Yamcha snorted despite himself.
“Well, good news. The world’s almost ended like five times already. I think we’re overdue for a break.”
Puar giggled, stirring the vegetables. For a moment things felt easy again.
But Yamcha’s mind drifted anyway.
Back to the training field. The dust under his feet. The afternoon sun. Tien standing there with his arms folded, calm as always.
Steady.
Reliable.
Yamcha had always admired that about him.
Even when they were rivals. Even when they barely trusted each other. Tien had this… gravity to him. Like he existed completely outside the chaos of everything else. And somehow Yamcha kept orbiting back.
Every time.
Yamcha opened one eye and stared at the ceiling.
“…I should probably go visit him sometime,” he muttered.
Puar perked up instantly. “Tien?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t get excited about it,” Yamcha grumbled. “He’s always inviting people to the farm and I never go. Feels kinda rude at this point.”
“That’s true,” Puar said thoughtfully. “Maybe I could come! See Chiaotzu, Help out?”
Yamcha nodded slowly. The farm was quiet. Out of the way. Just Tien, Chiaotzu, and the endless fields.
Very Tien.
For some reason, the thought of going there made Yamcha’s stomach twist in a way he couldn’t explain. He wasnt nervous exactly. It just felt… strange. Like standing on the edge of something he didn’t understand yet.
In the kitchen, Puar turned off the stove.
“Dinner’s ready!”
Yamcha pushed himself up from the couch, stretching his sore arms.
“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”
But as he walked to the table, one thought lingered stubbornly in the back of his mind.
Maybe I should stay a few days if I visit.
And for reasons he couldn’t figure out, that idea felt way more dangerous than fighting any Saiyan.