Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Anaugust Gold ❯ 01 ( Chapter 1 )

The days had gone past painful. Boredom had struck first, her strength scaring away any but the most foolish and leaving not much else to do. Her absence had caused a ripple of disquiet—they had placed a different ruler while she was gone. But it took her only one demonstration for her subjects to believe that she was still the Queen.

 

They had been baffled—their violent deaths, their resurrection without explanation. She spoke not a word of it, and many attributed it to special knowledge or abilities she was granted as a Super Saiyajin.

 

The Saiyajin finally had their glorious warrior, the golden Queen, the smallest twist on the legends of old, but there was little celebration. They waited less with bated breath and more with bitten lips for an heir to emerge, or for her to die—or for her to lead them to where they had always meant to be, wherever that was. She was quiet, and did not broker planets, or blow planets up. She brooded.

 

 

...

 

 

There had to be a way to make them ascend, all of them—to bring her people back to prestige, the bar raised by the handful of Saiyajin on Earth. Until then, she was stuck watching over the anthill, and if her people were ever industrious, their feats were small.

 

She needed someone. Someone to fight, someone to challenge her strength, for had she not learned more than she ever would have dreamed of from those she found on Earth, who challenged her? Could she teach two others to fuse? No—they could not manipulate their ki—nor, likely, would they ever learn.

 

Weaklings.

 

But she had learned the trick to ascension, hadn't she? Rage, purest hopelessness, some strong emotion. If there was a key, that was it.

 

So Queen Vegeta glowed gold at night, to let her people see just who was murdering their families, leveling their homes, destroying them. Would another glimmering star shoot from the rubble to sock her across the face?

 

Would she ever be able to find an heir, and escape?

 

 

...

 

 

Things could be for the next ruler just like they had been for her. If there was someone who could take over, someone just strong enough, she could leave—leave them to rule this godforsaken place, hovel of once-proud warriors left in the dust by their own kind, and if the heir she left behind her became strong enough, he could one day come and kill her.

 

Decades of fierce devotion to her people were wearing away quickly, more quickly than she ever would have predicted, eroded by that accursed gold. She had hoped to rule more proudly than ever, to inspire them to achieve what she had—but Prince Vegeta had been right: these elites were far too comfortable where they were, caught between the diamond-pressure strain of the throne and the chasm that had long ago been a humming heap of rough-and-tumble grunts.

 

For all the flak she'd have given that Kakarrot for sitting so low on the totem pole, at least he was a goddamn Saiyajin. And with this world, these Saiyajin still alive, still, that man was the last of his kind.

 

They'd never had a good fight. But she'd go to Hell and scrape out tooth and nail before she'd let things stay that way.

 

Still, it was best not to risk that now. She needed an heir, first.

 

But the Saiyajin got weaker and weaker.

 

Perhaps they were meant to die, after all.

 

 

...

 

 

"Kakarrot," Vegeta nudged him with his boot. The man stirred a little bit before his eyes fluttered open, and he mumbled something incoherent. "Surely you haven't been waiting for me for that long?"

 

"Huh?" Goku sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He brought himself to his feet and began stretching. "Oh yeah, we were sparring here today, right?" Vegeta raised his eyebrows and waited for an explanation. "I, ah...guess I just stayed the night here."

 

"Waiting for me?"

 

Goku shrugged. "Nothin' else to do. Plus, I like the outdoors." He took in a deep breath to demonstrate, and then turned back to Vegeta with a wide grin. "So, are you ready?"

 

"Not so fast," Vegeta raised one hand, eyes set squarely on Goku. "There's something I need to know—something you still haven't told me."

 

"Oh, well, I guess I stayed the night out here because—"

 

"That's not it," and Goku stopped, this time meeting Vegeta's eyes as the graveness of the prince's tone filtered through his ears. "You've been avoiding one question of mine."

 

"Like what?" he crossed his arms and pouted. "You know, I'm a pretty honest guy, Vegeta. Maybe you just haven't asked."

 

"Oh, I have," Vegeta seemed to rise from the ground as his bristling hairs rose from his neck, and he raised one knowing finger to Goku. "You and she both mentioned it—something that happened between you, that neither of you wants to tell me."

 

"She?"

 

"You know damn well who I'm talking about!"

 

Of course he did. But he'd been trying not to think about Vejata—about the adventures he could be having on New Vegeta this very moment. After all, she'd told him to wait a while. She was probably homesick and just needed some time to herself, and he could respect that—could wait a bit before visiting to see if there were any other strong Saiyajin, or maybe if he could train any others to become worthy rivals. At the very least, he mused, smiling, maybe Vejata would come back around sometime and spar him. Maybe she and Vegeta could fuse into that Vegeta he had seen months ago, who had finished the job that he could not.

 

"Kakarrot!"

 

The smile flickered from his face. "Oh, yeah. Um, what about her?"

 

"What happened?" his lips stretched aside to reveal teeth. If he hadn't cared much before, he cared now simply because of Goku's continued refusals to answer. What was it? The man had said it himself: he was a "pretty honest guy." So why on Earth did he repeatedly dismiss Vegeta's question, rather than outright answering it?

 

"I dunno, it's kind of hard to explain," Goku fumbled with his gi sash, suddenly concerned with making sure the knot was perfectly tied. He moved on to readjust his wristbands. "Um, that is, it's not really a big deal because it was a misunderstanding anyway."

 

"What kind of a misunderstanding, pray tell?" Vegeta spoke through clenched teeth. He knew that whatever this was involved him, somehow—had he ever known how, had anyone let it slip? He'd forgotten in the months he'd spent trying to squeeze the answer from Goku.

 

"Like, well, it wasn't really between us, Vejata and I, 'cause, I thought she was someone else."

 

A soft growl echoed in Vegeta's throat. "Me."

 

"W-well..."

 

"Oh, don't even pretend to play that game, Kakarrot. You could not possibly mistake a goddamn clone of me for anyone but me." He squared his shoulders, but at his sides his fists balled nervously.

 

"Yeah, I thought she was you," Goku admitted. "I was kinda...half-asleep. Y'know?"

 

His fingers twitched out of the fist formation, stretching restlessly, and for a brief moment a ball of ki lit up between them, a warning. "And what did you do while you were 'kinda half-asleep'?"

 

"I didn't do anything!" and now Goku's brows knit as he eyeballed where the blast had lit up, and he began to turn away, perhaps to leave. "And don't be so low—don't you threaten me like that."

 

"I didn't do anything," Vegeta mocked through still-clamped jaws, and stepped forward to round off Goku's step, leaning in close. "Now tell me."

 

"It wasn't that big a deal!" and Goku seemed to blush through his anger. "I almost...but..."

 

Vegeta brought his face closer so that Goku could hear him hiss: "You almost what?"

 

"Dammit, Vegeta!" Goku seized his shoulders and closed distance between them, pressing their mouths together. "That!" and at the flash of confusion over the prince's face, he added with a snarl, "I fucking almost kissed her, okay?"

 

Vegeta stumbled back, eyes wide. "B-because...you thought she was me...?"

 

"Yes!" and his ire fell quickly to apology. "There. Now you know. Do you feel better?"

 

"You...w-wanted to..." Vegeta glanced the man over. "You want me?"

 

"I don't know!" he looked away. "Maybe. I don't know."

 

"Well," Vegeta stepped closer, and he could nearly hear the blood as it pumped furiously through Goku's body. "I do know." He leaned in close before pulling back to strike Goku across the face. "Don't you ever dishonor me like that again. You are my rival. You are lucky I even converse with you, let alone pleasantly."

 

Goku blinked and brought one hand to his cheek, where Vegeta had hit him. He hadn't been sure if Vegeta still considered them rivals—since Buu, the prince had seemed to calm down and had eased into a more peaceful routine. But these days, he had been prone to snapping at anything that seemed to challenge his prowess—fighting or otherwise. He opened his mouth to speak—to tell him no, don't worry, he wouldn't do anything about it, wouldn't act on it, wouldn't...

 

"I don't want to see your sorry ass until you've kicked some sense into yourself," he narrowed his eyes. "Banish those foolish dreams that you could ever have that kind of power over—that you could ever deserve me."

 

"You don't..."

 

"I can't spar with you, Kakarrot. Not now," he touched his mouth, and then, cringing, spat.

 

"C-can I...come over and talk to you about it tomorrow?"

 

"Give me a while," he growled, and sent one last warning glare before he took to the skies. Goku collapsed to his haunches. He was sure Bulma would find out about what he'd done—if there was anyone to whom Vegeta could divulge such apparently humiliating information, it was her. Would she then go and tell his wife? He rested his head against his hand as he wondered what it was going to be like, with no Vegeta to turn to in this time of personal turmoil—no Bulma (for why would she ever support the notion of someone stealing away her beloved?)—the only two with whom he may ever have entrusted his feelings. And here he was, burdened with this confusing sentiment that, it seemed, was far beyond unrequited—it was despised. His gut twisted as he realized that he had nowhere to leave it. He would just have to carry it with him, until it left of its own volition, or did whatever such feelings did when they had nowhere to go. He was stranded, and worse—

 

Trapped.

 

He watched as Vegeta disappeared into the morning sky, and knew that he had to get away for a while, distract himself with some exciting quest or journey. His eye glimmered as it focused on a point higher in the sky. Has it been "a while" yet?