Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Anaugust Gold ❯ 02 ( Chapter 2 )

As Goku lowered his forefingers from his brow, he soaked in his surroundings. The slight increase in gravity tugged him down like a gentle breeze to Earth's calm air, but then, he knew that the fact that he had noticed the change at all meant it couldn't have been too insignificant.

 

Haphazard teleportations to Vegeta's immediate vicinity before thinking about the prince's surroundings had resulted in enough awkward situations that he'd known better than to place himself too close to Vejata—just in case. As he stretched his senses out to locate her beacon, Goku observed the landscape with interest. Two suns hung nearly below the horizon, leaving the sky dim, and he searched his mind to try to remember whether he had noticed that the planet would have danced with both stars when it had been but debris. As he shuffled his feet, thick, bristly brush rustled beneath them, and he reached down to pluck some and observe it—a deep charred gray, and as he turned it over in his hands it pricked him. Jumping a little, Goku dropped it, and as he raised his finger to his mouth to lick away the blood, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention.

 

He whipped around to face it and found smoke billowing from a stout structure. Grating sirens rang through his ears and they registered as dimly familiar. Searching for why, Goku shook the remaining haze of emotional turmoil from his mind and took a few steps forward—and after a moment more, he realized that the sirens were the combined screams and shouts of a handful of Saiyajin.

 

Goku reached the building just in time to see a flicker of gold disappear, and his eyes snapped to its source. Vejata's gaze locked with his and she froze. A small cluster of Saiyajin—the sirens Goku had heard—charged at her in her lapse in awareness and blocked her view to the man. She tore each away systematically, throwing them against the burning building as she did so. They slumped against the wall, unconscious, and Goku wondered vaguely if this blazing building could be their home.

 

When she didn't meet eyes with him again, Goku gave one more glance toward the pile of unconscious Saiyajin and seemed to realize something. He leapt over to them and scooped them up in his arms. "Why would you do that?" he muttered, hoping that she would hear him over the crackling of the flames as they licked up the innards of the building. "They could've gotten burned real bad...or worse," he nodded toward the fire even though she still wasn't looking, his voice shaky. She'd seemed better...like she'd gotten better. What was this? Was this how she always treated her subjects?

 

When her only response seemed to be the sound of a subtle curling and uncurling of her toes through her boots, scraping through gravel and scrubby moss beneath the ash, Goku took in a few deep breaths to regain his composure as he made his way away from the building, looking for a place to deposit the bodies he held. "You started that fire, too...didn't you?"

 

Strange sounds seemed to rumble through her throat before she finally answered, "Blame yourself."

 

Goku nearly tripped, one unconscious Saiyajin falling from the pile in his arms and smacking the ground with an undignified thud. He set the rest down beside it before he spoke. "Wh...whaddaya mean?"

 

"What else am I to do? My people are weak," she continued, and her eyes narrowed as she fixed her gaze against the pile of unconscious Saiyajin.

 

"B-but...blame myself? I don't..."

 

"Yes, you heard me. Blame yourself," her voice grew louder, although she still avoided meeting his gaze. "Weren't you the one who taught me that trick, that goddamn glorious gold?" each word seemed to tremble from her mouth, as if she might transform at that moment. "This is nothing but a dead end," and again she motioned toward the unconscious Saiyajin. "They need to become stronger."

 

"N-no way..." Goku's eyes widened in realization. "Don't tell me..."

 

"Rage, right?" her sharp eyes finally snapped against Goku's as her words echoed ever louder around her. "Hopelessness? Desperation? Any of those?"

 

"I..."

 

Her voice dropped to a deadly quiet. "It hasn't worked yet."

 

"You can't do that..." Goku protested in a whisper. "It doesn't...it doesn't work like that..." He strode up to the queen until he was standing nearly toe-to-toe with her, and his gaze bored down into her. "Surely you haven't been...I mean...not like..." he felt his chest tug in pity, and he couldn't tell if it was for the people or for her. He followed its forward pulling for a moment, extending his hand as if to lay it against her shoulder, but seemed to think better of it and let his arm fall to his side. "Right?"

 

The corner of Vejata's mouth twitched. "Haven't been what?" she growled. "Certainly precious Prince Vegeta killed as a means to his own selfish ends, too."

 

"K-killed?" Goku stammered. "I never said..." his eyes glanced around wildly at the scenery that surrounded him: other structures like this one in similar disrepair, or worse. "But...Vejata," he started with firm resolve, "You—"

 

"Never mind," she stopped him before he launched into the lecture that seemed to be waiting to spill from his lips. "Why are you here, Kakarotto? I told you to wait a while," she spat bitterly.

 

"Good thing I didn't," he murmured, and she held her eyes against him in wait for a response even as he flushed and turned away. "I, well..." his boot scraped through the ash several times, and he clutched at his forearm as if he'd find a wound there. "It's just," he glanced sheepishly back toward Vejata, and then turned to face her. She watched restlessly as his nostrils flared several times in succession, taking in some scent. "Nothing, really..."

 

"Like hell it's nothing," her voice dropped deeper and quieter as her lips pulled away from her teeth in a threat. Her grimace faltered when she noticed a glimmer of shock in Goku's eyes.

 

The man swallowed and bit his lip. "Vegeta."

 

For a moment, she was sure he was addressing her—but no, for her he always used that stupid altered name. Disconcerted at this realization, she took a step back and her voice quivered. "Give yourself a tour," she turned away. "Come find me when you've swept up that clusterfuck of emotions I see you've yet to take care of."

 

Goku nodded slowly even as she disappeared, and fixed his gaze on the sky again. "I sure screwed things up, didn't I, Vegeta?"

 

 

...

 

 

"Okay, Vegeta," Bulma crossed her arms. "I know that look, so just 'fess up." When she received no response, she continued, "You and Goku have never had a twenty-minute sparring session, and you sure as hell have never come back completely unscathed."

 

The prince temporarily paused his vicious removal of any edibles from the pantry to glance at the woman. "What look?" he responded simply, as if he hadn't heard the rest of her statement.

 

"Oh, I dunno," Bulma glanced toward the ceiling, "how do I describe it?" she asked rhetorically before she resumed her demanding glare, "Something like, 'There's clearly something bothering me, but if I act pissed enough, no one will notice.' That look."

 

"Don't be stupid," Vegeta growled into the pantry. "I am pissed. Fuck off."

 

"You don't eat like this when you're angry," Bulma ignored his demand, placing boxes back into the cabinets. It took Vegeta a few moments to notice that she was still there, and—yes—unraveling his progress. He prepared to down the box of crisps he held as he held his eyes on her. "You train like crazy and pick fights with me when you're angry. Now," she continued, "you do, shall we say, snack voraciously," she started, and Vegeta unapologetically left the box poised near his lips, "when something is," she snickered a bit to herself, "well, eating you."

 

"Same damn thing," Vegeta returned his attention to the box, but Bulma took it from him before he could pour its contents down his throat. "Can't a Saiyajin have a snack around here?" he snarled, glaring at Bulma. She stood in his immediate vicinity with her arms crossed, one hand still holding the box. "What?" he snapped, and she continued to stare. After what could have been an entire minute, she raised an eyebrow, and Vegeta seemed to falter at this. "Fine," he shifted his weight. "I'm more than just pissed."

 

"I thought so," she smirked, head held high, and he groaned at her understatement. "So tell me about it."

 

 

...

 

 

Goku did as Vejata had advised, and began meandering through the area. Perhaps he would have to make this into the exciting adventure he'd come for—something fun, far removed from what awaited him when he returned to Earth. He stepped cautiously through some village or city and found that none of its inhabitants seemed to take notice of him, save perhaps for his strange style of dress. Goku received a few scrutinizing looks as he passed by a cluster of squabbling Saiyajin—were they trying to figure out why he wore those clothes, or could they tell his class by his hair? Two women stood atop adjacent houses screaming at one another, until the one nearest him leapt across the gap to take a swing at the other. In return, she received a ki blast to the gut. They must each be as strong as Nappa was, Goku mused as their battle continued.

 

His heart pounded with excitement when each inhabitant he passed had the muscle tone that indicated regular training, had eyes that glimmered constantly with fiery-spiritedness and readiness to fight. It would sure be cool if more of these people could get stronger, he decided, and then stopped in his tracks. But...no way I'd try to do it like Vejata. I'd find a better way.

 

He felt a little more at home here, in some ways—no strange floating cars, only people who could fly themselves. At that thought, he smiled and walked with swagger. Hey, I know! A grin spread over his face. I should meet one of 'em. Yeah. "Hey!" he called out to one of the Saiyajin.

 

The young man froze in his tracks and then seemed to turn around as slowly as he could manage. "Yes, fa—oh," his eyes lit up ever so slightly as he realized that this man was unfamiliar to him. Looking Goku over, he frowned. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

 

"My name's Son Goku," his grin persisted.

 

The young Saiyajin crossed his arms. "Ugh, what dumbass parents gave you that name? Hey—" he shrugged toward Goku, "what're you trying to pull, walking around in those baggy clothes? You've got no excuse—you clearly haven't been off-planet recently."

 

Goku scratched his head. "Wha—why not?"

 

The young man grimaced. "What are you, some kinda hick? You do know that interplanetary travel's been banned since, oh, I don't know," he rolled his eyes, "about five sunsets ago?"

 

"Um," Goku blinked, throwing his hands out to the side in surrender. "No, I didn't. Why?"

 

"Hell if anyone knows," he grumbled. "My father's got a few theories."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"It all comes down to Queen Vegeta being fucked up in the head though," he shrugged, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Scary bitch she is. Being a Super Saiyajin must mess with your mind."

 

"Dunno," Goku shrugged, casually powering up until he glowed gold. "I'm pretty okay, right?"

 

The boy's eyes widened, and after several twitches of his lips as he tried to speak, he turned and ran. Goku frowned and let his power drop, but before he did so he noticed that everyone else on the street had either struck a defensive pose or taken to hiding around corners of buildings. He laughed guiltily, and, under their nervous gazes, took to the sky.

 

 

...

 

 

"And he what?" Bulma blinked. Vegeta caught her glass of water before it cracked against the ground.

 

"You heard me—that...moron...kissed me," he hissed the last words and seemed to bristle at the thought.

 

"I guess..." she tried to compose herself, grabbing the water back from Vegeta's grip and taking a swig before smacking it down onto a coaster beside her. "I guess that makes sense," she resolved as she took a seat at the table.

 

"It...what?" his eyes widened.

 

"I mean, he's like a puppy dog around you...following you around all the time, spending all that time with you," Bulma seemed a bit bitter as she finished. "Still..." she frowned. "How weird. I can't believe he'd actually do that to you." At Vegeta's silence, she threw her arms into the air. "It's Goku, for crying out loud!"

 

"I felt his ki disappear after he left," Vegeta spoke after a few moments, and moved closer to sit across from Bulma. As he pulled the chair out to make room for himself, the wood splintered slightly beneath his agitated fist.

 

"Well," Bulma sighed, "I can't imagine you let the poor guy down easy. Probably just blowing off steam somewhere else."

 

"He'd better come back with his senses about him," Vegeta grumbled, scooting closer to the table and absently nudging the salt shaker until it clattered against the pepper shaker. "He obviously just wasn't thinking clearly." The salt shaker tumbled over, spilling its contents onto the table, and then, as it rolled away, the floor.

 

Bulma tipped the rest of the water from her glass into her mouth. "Hope so."