Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Borrowed Redemption ❯ I ( Chapter 1 )

Borrowed Redemption ::

Chapter 1

 

 

“Who are you?” Goku questioned once he and the boy had distanced themselves from the rest of the group.

“There's really no way to beat around the bush…” he swept a few lavender locks behind his ears.  “I'm from the future.  My name is Trunks.”

“The future?  Wow!” Goku marveled, grinning.  Trunks smiled slightly; his mother had always described Goku as a dreamer, so it was no wonder the man was simply in awe rather than questioning him.  Yes, from what Bulma had told him, this was exactly the kind of reaction he should have expected.  “How do you know me?  Do I know your parents?”

“Well,” Trunks shifted uneasily, weighing how much he should tell Goku.  “Yeah.  I mean…yeah.”

“Ooh!  Wait, wait—I wonder if I can guess!”

The boy laughed at the childlike man before him.  “All right, go ahead.”  He'd let Goku have his fun.  The guy was just so adorable; no wonder he'd heard stories of everyone loving him.

“Well, I wanted to guess based on how you fight.”

“Oh!  All right,” Trunks chuckled.  “Speaking of which…you can go Super Saiyajin, right?”

“Sure I can!  How'd you know?  Oh, right!” Goku giggled, almost gleefully.  “You're from the future, so you know everything, huh?”

“I wouldn't say that,” he responded humbly, but then smirked as he powered up.  “And you can do this, right?  Power up to that level at will?”

Goku did so, his bright blonde hair and shining blue-teal eyes mirroring Trunks'.  “Yup, see?”

“All right, then…” and in one swift motion, Trunks drew his sword and swung it at Goku.  The older man stood unperturbed, watching as the blade's point stopped hairs from his nose.  “You didn't block it.  Why?”

“I knew you weren't going to hurt me,” Goku grinned.  “But…” his grin fell to a confuse stare as if the thought hadn't hit him before.  “You're Saiyajin?”

“Y-yeah,” Trunks raised his eyebrows, not sure if he should think Goku a fool, or assume that there were brilliant gears turning behind that baffled stare.  Somehow, the latter wasn't quite believable.  Still…his mother thought a lot of this man.  It wouldn't do to disrespect him.  “Why?”

“Then…I think I know who your parents are,” Goku responded, his voice neither confident nor bright, but rather quiet and curious.

Trunks smiled.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah…how weird,” Goku laughed a bit to himself, trying to lighten up and forget the impossibilities.

“It's sort of a…well, I don't know.  I always hear that it was a `passion thing,'“ he blushed deeply.  “Maybe you'll understand better than I do, knowing my father.  I can hardly remember him…”

“Really?  Why?  He…he died?”

Trunks nodded solemnly.  “That's what I came to tell you about…”

***

 

“…And please, Goku, don't mention my parentage to anyone, all right?  I'm afraid that if they find out, someone or something might interfere.  And…from what I know of my father…goodness, if he finds out, it'll probably never happen.”

Goku gave a short nod.  “Of course, Trunks.”  The thoughtful look once more returned to his eyes as he glanced back to Vegeta.  “Still…so strange,” he murmured.

“Things will take their natural course and work out how they're supposed to,” Trunks assured him.  “Don't worry about it.  Just keep that medicine on you at all times -I can't tell you exactly when the virus is going to strike.  I don't know.”

“Right.”

“I have to leave for now, but I'll be back in three years,” Trunks smiled, reaching out to shake Goku's hand.  The Saiyajin grasped it firmly.  “Until then…”

“See you later,” Goku smiled.  “And good luck.”

***

 

“What did he say?” Bulma questioned with wide eyes.  “What did he want to talk to you about?”

“Uhm,” Goku rubbed the back of his head nervously, grinning.  “Nothin' much, I guess…”

“Don't lie!” Piccolo spat.  “They need to know.”  At Goku's baffled look, the Namekian motioned to his ears, and the Saiyajin nodded in understanding.

“Right, uhh…there was some of it that was really important…”

“Well, don't hold out on us!” Krillin elbowed his friend.  “C'mon, what'd he have to say?  And - hey, is he really a Super Saiyajin?”

Goku nodded, shooting a quick glance toward Vegeta, who narrowed his eyes.  “Y-yeah, he is.”

“Where's he from?”

“Stop, that's not important right now!” Piccolo cut the questions short before they started to get out-of-hand.  “Tell them about what he said.”

“Um…”

“Never mind, I will.”

***

 

“I am not going to be toppled by a walking junkyard!” Vegeta balled his fists, snarling furiously.  “I will train to make sure it doesn't happen!  I'll prove it to that future brat - the Prince of the Saiyajin is not a weakling!”  He shot off into the sky, and the rest of the group watched him go.

“Hmm,” Goku eyed him thoughtfully.  “Well, I guess he's got the right idea.  We all need to train.  And we'll meet up here in three years, right?”  As he rattled off the date and details, the others nodded and started discussing their training plans.

“Daddy, do you want to train with Piccolo-san and I?” Gohan smiled up at his father.

“S-sure, son,” he ruffled his child's hair.  “First, though, I've gotta take care of something.”

“What's that?” the boy tilted his head.

“It's a secret,” Goku winked.  “I'm not allowed to tell you.  The guy from the future gave me strict orders.”

“Oh.”

Piccolo eyed him curiously, and Goku shrugged, giving a small grin.  Behind his content expression hid swirls of puzzlement and wonder.  “See ya, guys!” he called out to those who remained, and lifted his index and middle finger to his forehead, putting his latest technique to use.

***

 

“Hi, Vegeta,” he waved, trying to mask any of his questions and thoughts with innocence.  For someone with so little experience with doing such a thing, the result really wasn't slipshod at all, but Vegeta saw little rays of inquisitiveness slipping through the barrier.

“What do you want?” the prince barked.

“Can guys have babies?” Goku blurted.  He flushed when he realized the stupidity of his question, and his face grew redder as he watched Vegeta's expression twist from anger to shock and back to anger.  “I—I mean Saiyajin, not human men,” he added to clarify. 

This time, Vegeta's face moved to shock and did not switch back.  “What the hell are you talking about?” he squeaked out, any gruffness that he might have intended to inject into the statement totally absent.

“I mean, um…you know…like…if you…and…um and…and say, and, and I…you know!” Goku finally finished, flustered.

 

“I don't know what you're trying to say, moron,” Vegeta huffed, crossing his arms as he tried to erase the shock and bafflement in his expression. He knew exactly what Goku was trying to say. But the very suggestion of it…was ridiculous! And where had it come from? Perhaps that stranger from the future had put some strange ideas into Kakarrot's head. Vegeta tapped his fingers against his biceps broodingly, crossed arms tensing as he continued to think. What is wrong with him? he wondered, almost muttering the words out loud. The prince realized that though he might not have spoken them, he had definitely been mouthing his thoughts.

 

“Are you all right, Vegeta?”

“Me? Why don't you ask that to yourself?” he spat. “Posing such stupid questions! It's no wonder your friends all belittle you for your childishness.”

 

“Ah…oh…okay?”

 

“I don't have time for this!” Vegeta snarled, whipping around to face away from Goku. He's the one who shamed me so! Why am I speaking with him? “I've got better things to do than waste my time being subjected to your ludicrous interrogations!” With that, he shot off once more, leaving a yet puzzled Goku to ponder the question on his own. The younger Saiyajin thoughtfully poked at his belly and drifted back home.

 

 

***

 

 

“I can't believe that imbecile even dared ask me such a question! What was he thinking?” Vegeta paced back and forth, now back in the gravity room at Capsule Corporation. For once, he had gone there for a reason other than to train—or at least, in addition to doing so. He liked the privacy that four hundred times Earth's gravity could provide as he tried to think.

 

The issue was really not one that the prince wanted to touch, but somehow, it kept nagging on his mind. He couldn't help wondering what exactly had been going through Goku's head as he inquired such a thing.

 

Whatever. I'll just ignore it for now. That fool isn't worth any of my time or energy anyway.

 

On that topic…

 

He began his usual warm-up routine, fury quickly replacing confusion as he remembered the thousands of ways that Kakarrot had wronged him, and the thousands of ways that he could get the other man back once he reclaimed his title.

 

Vegeta shuddered every time his thoughts wondered back to Goku's sweetly curious expression as he'd asked the consuming question, and each time the thought resurfaced, he quickly smacked it down with a slicing punch. I will defeat you, Kakarrot, so soundly that every time I walk by you, your head will tilt down in respect and fear!

 

That every time you hear me, you will shiver in terror!

 

That you will remember—I am Vegeta, Saiyajin no Ouji!

 

 

***

 

 

He stuffed the remaining luggage into the ship hurriedly, but to no avail. Vegeta grudgingly rotated his neck so that the gleaming grin of the orange-clad man was visible in the corner of his eye.

 

“Where are you going, Vegeta?”

 

“To train. Alone.” If he could have emphasized the word any more without screaming it, he would have.

 

“Wouldn't it be better if you had someone to fight against? I know I always get better when I have a real opponent, rather than just punching the air.”

 

“Go spar your offspring, then.” And he had to say the word. His mind snapped back to the moment, and it was obvious that Goku's had to, as they exchanged a short silence. Goku raised his eyebrows meaningfully, tacitly reiterating the question, but Vegeta simply ignored the look and went back to packing the ship.

 

“It's not the same,” Goku shrugged. “Besides, I wanna know more about you, Vegeta. Now that you're on our side, huh?”

 

“I'm not on anyone's side but my own,” Vegeta snorted.

 

“Well, anyone who's on Vegeta's side is on my side!” he answered with a little giggle.

 

“Clever,” the prince rolled his eyes, calculating how long it would take him to dash to the door and what would be the best time to slam it shut - in Goku's face, or so that it squished his fingers? But of course…the man had the accursed ability to teleport. Vegeta grumbled under his breath. “But please never say anything like that again,” he continued dryly.

 

“Why not?”

 

He simply shook his head, clambering into the ship hopelessly; he didn't even need to look back to know that Goku was following him in.

 

“So I can come, right?”

 

Vegeta snorted. “Yes, but you may not.”

 

“What?”

 

He abandoned the elementary-school game. “So long as you don't mind it if I completely forget about your existence for the next few months.”

 

“Er…”

 

“Not fun, right? Then leave!”

 

“Are you saying that if I do leave, you won't forget about my existence?”

 

Vegeta growled. “N…yes…no…no! That's not what I'm saying! Just…shut up, all right?”

 

Goku winked and nodded, and subconsciously brought a hand to his stomach once more. He quickly removed it, hoping Vegeta hadn't seen. The last thing he needed was to be chastised for the little habit he'd developed from thinking about Trunks' words too often. Was this really how the timeline of this boy from the future had gone? It was so hard to believe…it was all so hard to believe. Trunks seemed so unlike him; how could he be Goku's son? Maybe Vegeta had raised him more, or had a stronger influence on him… The thought of Vegeta as a father made Goku both snicker to himself in amusement and flush in a strange emotion that made him feel warm and fuzzy.

 

“I hope you know that you're not borrowing any of my clothes or supplies. You'd better have your own,” Vegeta snapped.

 

The other Saiyajin inclined his head slightly. “Can I have some of your food, though?”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“So I need to bring my own?”

 

“You need to not come along.”

 

Goku hung his head. “I'll starve, then.”

 

“You'll what?”

 

“I said I'd rather go and not eat than not go at all!” he exclaimed. “Besides, I'm faster than you are,” Goku taunted good-naturedly. “I could get all the food I wanted, and you couldn't stop me.”

 

Vegeta scowled, the best reaction he could muster without a proper comeback.

 

“I'm ready,” Goku pushed him forward a bit. He held up a tiny vial that he'd tucked into his pocket. “See? I'm totally prepared! Let's go!”

 

“That's the antidote to the heart virus?” Vegeta scrutinized the glass container.

 

“Yup! When Tr—our s—that kid gave it to me, he told me to take it with me everywhere, just in case.”

 

“Whatever,” Vegeta grumbled, sinking in to the chair by the controls. This was bound to be the longest training expedition ever.

 

 

***

 

 

“We've been out here months, and we haven't even sparred once,” Goku complained, shocking Vegeta as he snuck up on him.

 

“Don't do that!” the prince fumed.

 

Goku threw his hands up defensively, laughing. “Okay, okay!”

 

“I know we haven't. I told you to prepare to be ignored.”

“Why aren't you training right now, then? Why are you talking to me?” he jested.

 

“Broke my arm,” Vegeta mumbled almost incoherently.

 

“Ohh.”

 

Vegeta stared into nothingness for several minutes as Goku remained silent, simply standing uncomfortably to his side.

 

“We should sit down, or something.”

 

“Do whatever you want, Kakarrot.”

 

“Hmm,” Goku promptly took a seat on the tiled floor. He seemed to consider Vegeta's words again, and reached out to trace a finger along the back of the prince's leg.

 

Vegeta's furious eyes snapped to Goku. “What are you doing?”

 

“You said I could do whatever I want.”

 

“Use a little discrimination, will you?”

 

“I don't think there's anything wrong with my doing this,” Goku tilted his head, his statement almost a question. To demonstrate, he ran his finger over Vegeta's thigh and calf again. “You wouldn't be half as mad if I'd stomped on your foot, or something.”

 

“At least that would've been an understandable reaction. I've been ignoring you; I'd expect you to do something displaying anger. Not…”

 

Goku giggled and repeated his action, watching Vegeta's face screw into an expression dominated mainly by what seemed to be an urge to scream and a defiant attempt to keep any other possible reactions from slipping onto his features.

 

“Not, not…that…” Vegeta stammered out, trying to reach down and stop Goku's hand while still maintaining some scrap of dignity.

 

“You know, Vegeta, if you went to sleep now, your arm would probably be almost healed by the time you wake up,” Goku noted, completely ignoring the prince's attempts to bat his hand away from his leg.

 

Vegeta refused to acknowledge the other Saiyajin's advice by not saying another word to him and simply walking away—before promptly lying down and shutting his eyes.

 

 

***

 

 

“If I do it, will you stop bothering me?”

 

Goku nodded eagerly.

 

“Fine,” Vegeta snorted, opening the door to the ship's gravity room. “But promise me one thing…”

 

“What?”

“If I lose,” he shuddered, snarling, “don't you dare bestow any of your pity on me!”

 

“All right, Vegeta.”

 

“Good.” And the two locked into their battle stances, ready to begin.

 

 

***

 

 

“You're going to have to try harder than that,” Vegeta growled into Goku's ear before dealing him a sharp knee to the back.

 

“You just want me to go Super Saiyajin, don't you?” Goku smirked, rubbing his back where it had been hit.

 

The other Saiyajin tilted his head upward slightly in affirmation, mouth caught between a frown and a smirk.

 

“Fine, then,” Goku returned the expression, although his was more obviously in the realm of a smirk. He bowed mockingly as he powered up. “As you wish, my prince.”

 

Vegeta paused for a moment at the phrase—at first, to take in its strange sound, and then to consider the proper words to use to reprimand Kakarrot for insulting him so—but perhaps this was a mistake, as a golden streak drove him back against the gravity room's single circular wall.

 

“What now?” Goku's eyes gleamed challengingly as he held Vegeta against the wall. “What do you—nnk!” he froze, clutching a tight fist to his chest and remaining firmly in place for a few moments before slowly sinking to his knees, kneeling down inches from Vegeta. As his breathing accelerated and became ragged, he leaned his head against the prince's shins for support, one shoulder digging deeply through the air and sagging to touch Vegeta's leg as well. Goku's hair fell from its elevated position, becoming its previous night-sky hue. “Vvv…Vegeta…”

 

Abandoning his rage and frustration in panic for one moment, Vegeta quickly knelt down and grabbed Goku's shoulders, using a thumb to lift the other man's head slightly. He moved it to his forehead, and then leaned in closer so that Goku's shallow breaths teased his ear. “What exactly is going on?” he asked in a calm, quiet tone.

 

“The…the…virus…” Goku managed, reaching up to brace himself against Vegeta as he tried to lift himself to his feet. However, he collapsed once more, his head this time coming to a rest against the prince's shoulder.

 

“I didn't know it would be so sudden…” Vegeta murmured. “Or so soon. Kakarrot, where is the antidote? I'll go get it for you.”

 

“N-no,” Goku protested as strongly as his condition would allow him. “I—maybe this isn't really it. Our—that kid made it sound like it would be a lot later…than…now.” After squeezing out the long string of words, Goku was left panting, balling his hands against Vegeta's tight shirt.

 

“Things might have changed, for some reason or another. You're going to take that antidote. Now tell me where y…” he trailed off, eyes widening. He reached for his throat, tight with a knot, before letting his hand stray to his chest, the site of the reason for his sudden panicked look.

 

“Vegeta…?” Goku whispered.

 

“Just a…mental…thing…obviously,” he gasped. “I'll get over it.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“My…” he paused and tried to breathe deeply for a moment. “My…heart…”

 

Goku's own heart jumped at the sound of the phrase as an unexplainable hope jumped into his mind, but the positive feelings crashed when his condition caught up with him, and when Vegeta took in another rasping breath and leaned forward to rest his widow's peak against Goku's chest.

 

“Kakarrot…” he breathed, “…Did…the…future…brat…tell you if the virus…is…communicable?”

 

“He only said I died of it,” Goku whimpered as fears seized at him. “Vegeta, you don't—you can't—you're not saying…”