Hi, I'm Not Dead

    While the dearly departed watched from afar, a certain, slightly skinnier, young Saiyan male was going through an exceedingly similar set of motions upon his return to his home. Dion Hofferson, after nearly eleven months spent away, had finally set foot upon terra firma once again. Despite the six month tenure spent in what could be described as the closest thing to Hell, and the five months taken to mull about in failure before finally being reinvigorated to rebound back from the breaking point by his remaining loved ones, he somehow had managed to crawl his way back from his place in the grave.

    Originally, this proposed trip back to Earth was meant to be a short one- Zhalla simply meaning to retrieve the kids that she had left waiting for her amidst she and Nero's travels to both Plant and Namek, whilst Dion only sought to grab a few things to help the reconstruction of he and Carro's own space ship so that the two could come back home together (the space on Zhalla's ship having been reserved for the aforementioned kids that she would be bringing back with her).

    But, as it usually went with the bartender, things changed- and a few more tasks had been tacked on to Dion's to-do list whilst traversing across the cosmos from Plant to Earth. Besides the very first order of business, the other few addendums had been relatively simple, and understandable to any outside perspective (with the context of what he had been through at least). Visit Capper and make sure their old man was doing alright- if Carro being gone made him worried sick, only Kami knew what Dion being gone for as long as he was without any explanation did to the older fellow- check up on the brothers' former home, see if the property had been leased out and was available for purchase (He had some emergency funds saved away just for this exact scenario, and while spending it would essentially place the two in the danger zone in regards to budget, Dion wouldn't let Carro sleep on the streets again for as long as he lived), and even making sure Bud was still fully functioning outside of the brothers' sphere of influence.

    That, last one being more out of concern for the populace of Papaya Island than out of concern for Bud's own wellbeing. He was sure that he could operate just fine by his lonesome, he was more worried about what he would do unsupervised.
    
    The very first thing upon his list, however, could be more confusing for even Carro to fully comprehend- and that had been to make a grave for his childhood familiar, Amara Bloodthorne.

    His actions may be slightly confusing to some, considering the attitude and treatment that Amara had given both Dion and Carro during the tenure of their reunion- brazen, bitter, and incredibly prickly, she was by all means a less than pleasant presence to have to deal with for the time that they had been together again. A far cry to what they had been used to in regards to Amara's persona when comparing it to how they were as children.

    And perhaps a large part of his continued adoration was birthed from that past experience. Dion only remembered Amara, and majority of people for the most part, for the good that they had done rather than the bad. Always giving them the benefit of the doubt when it came to both sides of the coin. To Dion, when you considered the full scope of what Amara had to deal with at that time, he believed her attitude to be understandable, potentially at times even necessary. How else would one act when, barring two select individuals, all of those whom you have come to trust are dead? If put in the same set of circumstances, Dion was sure anyone would have done the same.

    So, in his mind, Amara was already excused of all wrongdoing, and instead any negativity was replaced with the ever still palpable guilt he held in regards to how her death came about. Deep down, he still blamed himself for what had happened- the kidnapping, the enabling of Carro's return to poverty, all in tandem with Amara being snuffed out by the very people he had tried to keep her safe from.

    It was, to him, all his fault.

    And making some reminder of her and what he worked to atone for on a daily basis was the least that he could do.

    Which is why Dion stood now where he did, in front of a humble looking tombstone that he himself had painstakingly made the effort to carve out. It took him several tries to get the rhythm right- too fast and he'd shatter the whole thing due to the lack of control he had over his own strength after being unable to use it all this time, and too slow made him impatient and caused him to revert to problem one. But, when he eventually got Amara's whole name carved out, Dion made his way over to the local cemetery to pay his final respects.

    It didn't take him long to find it, after all, he spent the bulk of his time getting the tombstone ready in the Diono's building (he may or may not have used a secret key he had hidden under a rock nearby to gain entry, likely wasn't very legal, but he was gonna buy it back anyways so he could care less), and in the past, he had caught glimpses of Amara visiting it in order to pay her own respects to her former crewmates, so it was a path that he knew all too well.

    He decided on placing Amara's tombstone right in the middle, personal bias working its way into the choice, making sure it was safely fastened into the dirt that it sat upon. And then, as a finishing touch, Dion took from within his back pocket a single flower- an amaryllis, to be specific. He thought it fitting to give Amara something that symbolized one of the things that Dion would fondly remember her for, and that was her strength.

    Placing it in front of the grave, Dion continued to stand there in deep contemplation, a somber expression on his face. He could feel himself already begin to shudder, visible tremors appearing to rumble through his body as he felt the weight of the guilt and pain upon his shoulders, just as heavy as it was back on Plant.

    Not wanting to shed any further tears, Dion took a deep breath, taking his slightly cracked glasses off for a moment to look upon his work without any outside filter. Staring at the stone before him before beginning to talk in a low, somber voice that one nearby could still hear with relative effort put in to do so as he spoke,

    "I'm sorry."

    "I don't know if you can hear me, or if I'll ever be able to ever tell you myself, but, I hope that wherever you are, you know that I am, sorry."

    "I've tried so hard to move on, I have- B-but, it's difficult, you know? I don't know how to go on knowing what I did, and what I didn't do. What I could have, and should have done. And, if I can be honest, I don't know how to go on without you."

    Struggling to find the words, somehow Dion found the wherewithal to continue, wiping the tears away with a quick swipe of the sleeve, sniffling as he tried to regain his bearings and continue.

    "I-I'm trying, though. I've been trying to learn how to. Everyone's been so helpful in that regard. And I hope that, in time, somehow, you'll be able to see it. That you'll be able to see that the efforts both you and your father put into us, into me, weren't in vain."

    "I'm, still not sure if I'll be able to forgive myself for this. I let the person I care the most about down, and, it cost both of us more than I could have ever imagined. I didn't even get to tell you how I really felt through all these years."

    "But, even then, I still hope that somehow, one day, I'll be able to tell you myself."

    With that, Dion stopped, and after a few more moments of silent reflection, readied himself to leave.

    Until all the sudden a lovingly familiar energy appeared into existence just behind him.

    Immediately spinning on a dime to address the newcomer, Dion's eyes laid themselves on a familiar, yet unfamiliar face- one that he felt he recognized, yet at the same time didn't.

    Eyes narrowing slightly, Dion thought at first that he was seeing a ghost, and to make sure he wasn't just seeing things, he even put back on his slightly splintered specs to get a clearer view. And through his clearer view came the irrefutable fact- this person did look quite like Amara, but key differences here and there withheld him confirming definitively that this was Amara Bloodthorne herself. The stylish hair, beautifully blue eyes, and- wait, was she nearing his height now? No, this couldn't have been the Amara that he had lost nearly a year ago, this had to be some sort of farce, something made to mock him in a cruel twist of fate.

    In fact, this Amara lookalike was about to get an incredibly interrogative introduction when Dion took the time to sense her energy again to put the final nail within this carbon copy's coffin- and all the sudden, all doubt that he originally had about her was extinguished instantaneously.

    While it was much weaker than what it had been in their last meeting, there could be no uncertainty. This was indeed Amara Bloodthorne. The energy he felt was inimitable, and totally unique to her person.

    Upon his realization, the quivering that Dion had gotten a handle on earlier started to creep back in waves, his whole body quaking as he slowly, near stumbled, his way toward Amara- coming decently close as he raised a quavering hand to her cheek. Gaunt fingertips gently brushing her face as his head tilted in amazement. He realized being so forward could likely come off as irritating (he wasn't aware of the originally prickly personality of Amara's being shed away), but he didn't care. He needed proof.

    Dion needed to know that it was really her.

    Eyes filling with tears, Dion's voice was a near whisper, disbelief still evident in his tone as he spoke, barely able to get the words out without breaking into a sob, "They told me, she told me you were dead."

    "P-please, Kami, please.."

    Face now glistening from the tears streaming down his face, Dion choked out the question he was both aching yet fearful to get an answer to as he stared into Amara's face,

    "Is it really you, Amara?"
    
PL: 22,000 - WC: 1841 - TWC: 1841