Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Dispassionato ❯ Dispassionato ( One-Shot )

Dispassionato

 

 

“You still haven't thrown this out?”

 

“Vegeta! It's...well, it's important to me.”

 

“Hm,” Vegeta replied with a slightly raised eyebrow, his tone neutral, perhaps inquisitive.

 

“Do you think that's…weird?”

 

“I do.”

 

Goku frowned, curling his lip down as if Vegeta had just cheated at a game; `No fair!' He spoke after a moment. “I mean, it's only been…two years.”

 

“I threw out Bulma's stuff the day after her funeral.”

 

This time Goku's frown was deeper, disapproving. “Vegeta, that's so mean.”

 

“What? She's dead. She was getting so old; I think she was glad of it. Why would I keep her stuff?”

 

“I don't know…to remind you of her.”

 

“I don't need to be reminded. I hold my memories in my mind and nowhere else.”

 

Goku mulled this over. “So do you think…it's okay that…part of me wishes I'd burned this stuff a long time ago…?” he inclined his head, a fearsome flush of embarrassment at admitting to it overcoming his features.

 

“Mm,” Vegeta brought his hands together and sat up, apparently preparing to explain something. After a moment, he relaxed, letting his hands rest beside his legs and leaning his head back until it touched the back of the chair on which he sat. “It is indeed `okay,' Kakarot,” he finally responded, his easy features reassuring Goku. “I did notice…hm…that is, there seems…”

 

Goku leaned forward, waiting for the rest. “There seems what?” He paused, giving Vegeta time to answer. “What did you notice, Vegeta?”

 

Vegeta stared past Goku, apparently hearing neither of his questions. “I don't know quite how to say it,” he admitted after some time, “without…”

“Ah, just say it!” Goku insisted. Smiling, he added, “I'm used to you saying mean things, if that's what you're thinking.”

 

This seemed to be permission enough for Vegeta. “When she died, I never saw you actually cry for her. In fact, during most of your marriage you seemed nearly indifferent to your wife.”

 

“You're one to talk!” Goku joked, smiling uncomfortably.

 

“You're comparing yourself to me now?” was the response, accompanied by a smirk. Vegeta remained in his reclined pose, aware of Goku's discomfort but in no visible hurry to do something about it. His smirk faded, though, and was replaced by a thoughtful stare into Goku's eyes. He wondered if Goku would discover it himself, and gave him time to do so.

 

During this time, Vegeta's eyes slowly took in the rest of his surroundings. Most of the Son house was covered in cobwebs and populated by small creatures; Vegeta seriously doubted Goku spent most of his time here. More likely, he had taken to the woods, tired of the upkeep of an empty household. Chi-Chi's clothes sat on the couch, folded up as if they had, at one point, been prepared to be removed. The spot on the couch Goku occupied, Vegeta had noticed, had a slight indentation in it, as if that was his usual place. The clothes, however, were dusty as the rest of the house. There was a part of the carpet less given to the dirt and wildlife around, a path on which Goku might have paced each visit. How often did he come here? Vegeta wouldn't know; he'd seen Goku perhaps two or three times since Bulma's funeral three years ago. As each powerful enemy came and went, and the universe settled into decades of peace, they had gone separate ways, unintentionally seeing each other less and less. Time passed differently, it seemed, for them, and they were both content with the rare day or two of contact each year. They sparred most times they met, and perhaps the long periods between their meetings made each fight more exciting. I wonder, Vegeta thought, how many more years will we be able to fight as we do? I suppose I never knew a Saiyan who lived past his prime…still, the day will come.

 

As if he had heard these thoughts, Goku sprung up. “Vegeta,” he spoke with resolve, “Let's fight. I'm tired of thinking about this and it doesn't look like you're about to talk either.”

 

“Yes, of course,” came Vegeta's response, eager but still somewhat distant. Interesting…perhaps he knows.

 

They proceeded to the outdoors, and Goku took his stance not far from the house. Vegeta raised an eyebrow. “Here?” Goku nodded and sprang up, beginning the battle.

 

 

***

 

 

Through the course of the battle, the land was scarred; some nearby trees felled, rock structures crushed. Vegeta, unsure of Goku's reasoning for choosing this area to fight, furtively attempted to defend the house from much damage. As he braced his left arm to block an oncoming blow, he noticed a glimmer of rage in Goku's eyes that he had thought he would never see again. It disconcerted him and, in his lapse of attention, he was knocked back against the house.

 

Goku hovered in front of Vegeta, still boiling with rage. Vegeta noticed a distinct confusion in Goku's expression as well. Risking it, Vegeta sat up, remaining in place against the house. “What is it that's bothering you?” he questioned.

 

“I think you know something about it,” Goku seethed, and then, powering up, held out one glowing palm toward Vegeta's face.

 

“Wh-what…?” he hesitated, distinctly reminded of Goku's threat to Kaioshin when the god stood in his way, to keep him from fighting Vegeta and awakening Buu. “Kakarot…”

 

“Vegeta!” Goku snapped. “Get out of my way!”

“You're...destroying your house, then…?”

 

“Dammit Vegeta, yes!” Goku screamed, his eyes pleading.

 

Vegeta quickly ducked away, standing near Goku and facing the house. Just as he had cleared the area, Goku fired a blast into the house. It was much stronger than it needed to be, and there was no doubt this was intentional. After a short pause, Goku hung his head and drifted to the ground. He knelt down, teary-eyed but not yet crying.

 

Vegeta remained standing. “Why the tears, Kakarot?” His voice was soft; mocking yet understanding.

 

“Did you feel like this, Vegeta? When you got rid of all of Bulma's stuff?” Goku glanced up through his bangs, absentmindedly tracing his fingers through the ash.

 

“Kakarot, I don't know how you feel, so I can't answer your question. And I didn't blow up Bulma's house, either. Trunks still lives there, of course. And I do as well, on occasion.”

 

“I…I didn't even think…Gohan and Goten…!” This time the tears fell. “Th-they loved her just as much as I did…”

 

“More,” Vegeta added, hoping it would help.

 

“Y-you think so? Oh, but they'll hate me even more…Vegeta…why did I do that? I know I'm not th-the most thoughtful guy…I…”

 

“I know why you did it, Kakarot,” Vegeta assured him.

 

Goku held his eyes on Vegeta, begging for an explanation. “Y-you do?”

 

“Mm. I know that Earth is your home, Kakarot. But never forget: you are the product of two worlds.”

 

“I don't understand…”

 

Vegeta finally sat. Momentarily, he placed a hand on Goku's shoulder, encouraging him to calm down. “I was going to tell you before. But I think you know what it is, somehow.”

 

“I…”

 

“You are very compassionate, Kakarot. Very considerate. Sympathetic. I…I was surprised you held onto your wife for so long after she died. Tell me, did you ever cry for her?”

 

“Yes…well…no. I did…but…”

 

“Much as you spent time pacing around this house,” he motioned to the pile of rubble, “and sitting in the same place. Thinking, but not feeling. Right?” Goku nodded and Vegeta smiled a little. “You see…for the lifestyle of a Saiyan, compassion is usually counterproductive. Those who spend too long feeling sympathy for others…are often the first to die. Naturally, perhaps even genetically, the norm became a distinct lack of consideration. For a Saiyan, it must be learned…and it is a lesson that takes much time and effort, if it can even learned by anything more than rote. It is not necessary for most…quite nearly, I would say, any.”

 

“But…”

 

“I imagine you picked up on it quickly, coming here as a child and having lost your memory. But you know that you have always had trouble justifying putting others before your own desires…”

 

Goku smiled a little, guiltily. How many foes had he fought with only secondary concern for the others, more interested in the excitement of battle? The stronger the villains came, the more it seemed to happen. He always ensured their safety, but…

 

“Well, it seems you've had enough of that,” Vegeta chuckled, and then admitted, “Over my years here on Earth, even I acquired a similar capacity for sympathy. But I suppose we're both leaving that behind, as much as we can.”

 

Goku nodded. “I guess I've become more and more like a Saiyan over the years, haven't I?”

 

“Fool, you've always been one,” Vegeta spat. “Don't say such things. But now you see, a bit more at least, what it is like to be a proper Saiyan.”

 

“You were pretty young when your people were destroyed…”

 

Vegeta blinked, thrown by the change in topic. “I suppose I was.”

 

“How do you know then? What a proper Saiyan is?”

 

Vegeta laughed to himself a bit. “If I know one thing, it's that.” He leaned back, resting in a few remaining tufts of grass. “In any case, I guess my life here has polluted my Saiyan culture just about as much as your contact with me has saved yours.”

 

“So we're even,” Goku smiled, lying down as well.

 

“I suppose you could say it that way.”

 

“Vegeta?”

 

“Yes, Kakarot?”

“Chi-Chi and Bulma…they both died of old age.”

 

“So they did.”

 

“Will we die of old age too?”

 

“Perhaps we will.”

 

“I've died before…so have you. But, I'm scared…” Goku kept his gaze away from Vegeta, embarrassed.

 

“I don't want to get old either, Kakarot.”

 

“Will we become frail?”

 

“I…don't know.”

 

Goku turned to Vegeta. “I like spending time alone. But Vegeta…now everything of Chi-Chi's is gone. Gohan and Goten and their families are busy…they know I visit them when I'm ready to. But it's…tiring, sometimes. I guess you know what I mean.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What I was saying…I like spending time alone. But I don't like being lonely,” he paused, glancing at Vegeta. “And I feel sort of disconnected from everyone…everyone but you. Even though I see them more often.”

 

“Indeed. It does seem the likely outcome. There's no one quite like you Kakarot. But as it turns out, I am the closest thing.” Ironic, isn't it? That I understand you best.

 

“I'm glad we're enemies, Vegeta.” Goku playfully punched Vegeta's shoulder.

 

“Don't ever forget it,” Vegeta returned the action. “And don't worry. I'll never stop hating you.”

 

“Even when we die?”

 

“Even when we die.” Vegeta smirked and jabbed Goku in the gut, streaking off into the sky.

 

“Hey!” Goku shouted, chasing him. He left the wreckage of his house behind. He was not lonely. He was free.