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

    Vegeta didn't bother to rap on the door, remembering Goku's constant insistence that his home was also the prince's.  Even if Chi-Chi didn't agree with the idea, Vegeta liked the fact that he could stroll in like he owned the place.
    "Hi Vegeta-san!" Goten chirped, looking up from his videogame momentarily to wave, and then sighing disappointedly as he realized his mistake.  "Aww, darnit, I lost..."
    Vegeta gave a small, reluctant smirk.  The boy was at his house so often that he seemed like a second son.  "Your father home?"
    "Yeah," he nodded vigorously, and his childish charm kept the smirk on Vegeta's face.  "Mom's making 'im go through his old clothes and get rid of the worn-out ones.  We're having a garage sale!"
    "In the mountains?" the Saiyajin laughed inwardly.
    "Nuh-uh, at your and Bulma-san's house!  In the city!"
    "Oh," Vegeta nodded, suddenly solemn.  Without another word, he wandered down the short hallway toward Goku and Chi-Chi's room, and Goten resumed playing his videogame with a shrug.  As he rounded the corner and stepped into the open doorway, he asked hesitantly, "Kakarrot?"
    "Vegeta!  Hey!" Goku grinned, tossing a faded red shirt to the side and pacing up to the other man to clap a hand onto his shoulder.  "How're you?"
    The prince gave a small shrug, frowning.  "Been better."  He honestly never liked telling Goku about how he felt, but somehow the other Saiyajin always managed to get it out of him.  Goku was much trickier than most of his friends gave him credit for.
    "Why's that?" he questioned, grabbing the shirt from the floor, staring at it for a few moments, and then throwing it into a pile of other faded shirts.
    Vegeta followed the top's path for a moment, as if trying to feel distracted by it.  He shrugged once more, not quite willing to lie, but far from wanting to explain.  "So, I hear you're cleaning house."
    "Uh-huh.  Chi-Chi wants to clear out the closet and sell some stuff.  Then she's gonna buy new stuff with the money she makes."
    "That's nice," he answered disinterestedly.  Vegeta took a seat on Goku's bed, glancing at the pile of discarded clothing.
    "Do you think I should keep this one?" Goku held up a plain black button-up shirt.
    "I don't care," Vegeta sighed, not quite able to believe that Goku was asking him about his tastes in the other man's clothing.  He finally looked over at it.  "I've never seen you wear it."
    "I like wearing orange."
    "You'd look nice in black."
    "Huh?"
    "I said---never mind," Vegeta's eyes snapped away quickly, his cheeks slightly red.
    "Okay then, I'll keep it," Goku smiled, throwing it over to the relatively small pile of clothes he wasn't planning on selling.  His identical orange gi's remained safely in the closet, taking up nearly half of the space.  "But Vegeta, really -- how are you?"
    "I'm fine, all right?!" he snapped.
    Goku shook his head, half amused and half concerned.  "Sure doesn't sound like it!"
    "Look, just -- I'm just a little confused," he admitted.
    "That happens to me a lot," Goku nodded, laughing to himself.  Vegeta couldn't suppress the glimmer of amusement in his eyes.  "It helps me t' talk to people about it, though," he added, as if urging Vegeta to do so.
    However, something about his comment only served to deepen the scowl that had since returned to his features.  "I noticed."
    "Is there something you wanted to talk about, Vegeta?"
    "Is there something you wanted to talk about, Kakarrot?" Vegeta answered back in a bitter tone.
    Goku shifted uneasily for a few moments, wringing the tank top in his hands, but then shrugged.  "Nope!  Nothing in particular."
    Vegeta nodded, glancing to the side dejectedly.  "I see."
    The younger Saiyajin's eyes darted to the shirt he held, to the pile he threw it to, to the pile of clothes as he grabbed an old pair of jeans, but that was as long as they could go without settling back on the prince.  "What's wrong, Vegeta?"
    "Oh, nothing in particular," he muttered, echoing Goku's words once more.  "Not like I'd tell you, anyway."
    Goku recoiled slightly, shocked.  He knew that Vegeta wasn't usually very chatty, but he hardly ever went out of his way to be this hostile -- not for a long time, and especially not to him.  For a while, he'd started to think of himself almost as Vegeta's confidant -- the only one, perhaps besides Bulma, that the prince would speak to about his innermost issues.  "What do you mean?"
    "Never mind.  Maybe you should go ask someone else about it later," he spat as he quickly got to his feet and strode out the door, throwing a glare to Chi-Chi as he passed the kitchen -- just for good measure. 
    Goku blinked and gazed at the doorway for several moments even after Vegeta had left the house.  "Vegeta...?"  The shirt slipped out of his hands as his grip loosened, and he leaned against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting against it.  He tilted his head back, staring out the window at the graying sky.  "What did I do wrong?"
    "What's that, honey?" Chi-Chi peeked in.
    "Nothing, Chi!"
    "Oh, all right.  So why was Vegeta here?"
    "Ah, just wanted to see what we were up to," Goku lied with a sweet little smile.  "I told him I couldn't spar today 'cause you wanted me to go through my stuff."
    "Well, I know you've been working hard all morning," Chi-Chi's expression glowed with pride at her husband's efforts, "so I was just about to suggest you take a little break."
    "Great!" Goku grinned, springing to his feet and forgetting his woes, if only for a while.  "I'm gonna go eat something and then maybe take a short little nap!"
    "All right," Chi-Chi nodded.  "I'm sorry I got you up so early to start on this."
    "Aw, it's okay," Goku laughed.  "You wanted to have time to take everything over to the city this evening, right?  So we had to start early."
    "I'm glad you understand."
    Goku just smiled and headed off for the kitchen.


    "Vegeta -- I'm sorry," Bulma stated immediately as the prince stormed into the living room.  "I just thought...maybe you already knew..."
    "Oh, and who would've told me?" he scowled.
    "W-well...you know, Goku, but -- how'd it go?  What did you say?  What did he say?"
    The prince snorted and slammed his fist against the wall, assuming that this would answer all three questions, or at least the first.
    "I wish you wouldn't do that," she pleaded.
    Vegeta shot her a glare, as if to question why he should care.
    "Look, if he doesn't say anything to you about it, maybe you need to bring it up."
    He stuffed his hands in his pockets.  Yes, there were two closely tied things that he would probably have to end up mentioning.  And another two things that he would have to bring up to Bulma.  Later.  "That fool...makes me seethe with rage..."
    "Well, it won't do to be mad at him for it," the woman tried to smile.  "You might explode and say something you don't mean."
    "I know," he growled.
    "Well, look.  Maybe you should go back there now and talk to him about it, so that it doesn't have time to nag on you."
    "I'm not going back now!  That would make it seem like---like---"
    "Just try to tone down your pride for a while," Bulma suggested.  She turned the TV on, flipping through a few channels.  "It wouldn't kill you, you know."
    Vegeta clenched his fists, restraining them from breaking something else.  Nonetheless, he paced out the door, suppressing his ki as much as he could as he flew back to the mountains.


    "Mmm, time for bed," Goku yawned, rubbing his finally full stomach.  "At least for a little bit."  He swung the door shut, plopping down on the bed.  "All I know is that I wasn't meant to wake up at five in the morning," he chuckled to himself, reclining and resting his head against a pillow.  Goku reached under the bed and pulled out a squarish black object, twisting a small silver ring on the side.  He sighed and gave a little smile as a tune drifted through the air.  The Saiyajin clutched the music box against himself, turning over onto his side and drifting to sleep as it continued to play.
    Vegeta's eyes narrowed in confusion as he gazed through the window.  Asleep, he doesn't look like the kind of man who could inflict such pain... he pondered.  The music box was a nice touch.  His anger began to subside.  Kakarrot was such an innocent person; it didn't make sense for Vegeta to think he'd purposely done anything to hurt him.  He watched the Saiyajin flip over onto his back, his chest's rising and falling not at all in time with the music.  The prince guessed that he might be dreaming about food, or fishing, or -- probably -- fighting.  But as Goku opened his mouth and muttered something, Vegeta knew this was not the case.  He sighed.  He'd been perhaps a bit too harsh on the naive warrior.
    "...What did I do wrong...?" Goku mouthed the words again, turning onto his side once more, although this time his back was to the window.  The tinkling of the music box came to a halt, a final note squeezing its way out into the otherwise silent space.
    Stepping in through the window, Vegeta crossed his arms.  He was not going to sit around and wait for Goku to finish his nap.  But it would be foolish to wake the other Saiyajin up.  Vegeta sighed and took a seat on the floor, breathing deeply.  Although it was obvious that Chi-Chi spent her fair share of time there too, he had never been in a room so heavily scented of Kakarrot.  It was interesting, and...nice.  Musky, but somehow fresh.  Like the outdoors.  He shook his head.  Time to stop lingering on stupid little things, and think of what he was going to do when Kakarrot woke up.
    An idea shied into his mind, and Vegeta decided to go with it, creeping up to Goku and gingerly snatching the music box from his loosened grip.  He tucked it into his pocket, leaning against the wall and slipping back into deep thought.  Part of him hoped that Goku would wake up soon, but part of him wanted more time to think things through.  After a few moments, though, it became obvious that it was the former part that would be satisfied.  Goku stirred, first flipping over several times, and then cracking his eyes open.  Vegeta wondered if it was the absence of the music box that had disturbed him, and put his hand in his pocket, fingering the object guiltily.  If such was the case, the man's attachment to the thing was almost endearing.  But it seemed absurd, for Goku to have such an affinity for a music box, no matter how pleasant a tune it contained.
    "Mm?" Goku's eyes opened slowly.  His mouth opened in a wide yawn.  As he stretched his arms into the air, he glanced toward his hands, at first looking very confused, and then very worried.  "Oh no...!" he exclaimed, and glanced around the room with concern in his eyes.  "...Vegeta!"
    Vegeta tilted his head forward in acknowledgement.  "Kakarrot."
    "Why're you here?  And, and have you seen my music box?"
    "I've seen it," he answered coolly, furrowing his brow as he looked to the other man in order to show his displeasure.
    "Hmm," Goku noted the expression.  "Um, where is it?"  When Vegeta did not respond, he questioned in a softer tone, "Vegeta, will you please tell me what's wrong?  It's been a really long time since you've looked at me that way."  He felt his heart aching for the prince, punctured for its inability to understand him.
    "If you want your music box back, answer me a few things."
    "I'd answer your questions even if you weren't holding my music box hostage," Goku assured him with a gentle smile.
    Vegeta winced, both at the situation and at Goku's dense nature.  He'd liked the idea of being able to hold something over Goku's head, but if it wasn't necessary, the action was so futile...  "First thing, what's with the music box?"
    "I...uhm...I don't really...don't really know if you want to know the answer to that," Goku responded meekly.
    "We'll come back to it, then," the prince sneered.  "Next -- what's so urgent that you have to talk to Bulma about all the time?"  He knew, of course, but it might be much more satisfying if he could get Goku to confess to it himself.
    "I...it's kind of related to the other thing.  I just, ah, I dunno if you want to hear about it."
    Vegeta snorted.
    "Wh-why does it bother you?" Goku asked, noting Vegeta's ever more bitter expression.
    "Well, I am rather offended that you, the all-trusting moron, do not trust me with your thoughts and feelings, instead bleeding them all over Bulma," he spat.  His eyes seemed to twitch in frustration and sorrow as he continued, "I, me -- the Prince of the Saiyajin! -- tell you almost everything, perhaps after some of your clever tactics, but I tell you nonetheless.  And yet you...do not trust my self-control enough to disclose your emotional issues to me?  It...hurts," Vegeta admitted.
    Goku's expression softened sympathetically.  "I...sorry...  You do tend to...so to speak, um, explode, sometimes, so I...ah...I mean, something like this..."
    "...That's the other thing."
    "Hm?" his eyes widened in shock.
    "I'm giving you until your harpy comes to Capsule Corp. this evening to drop off the stuff she's selling to tell me what you've been talking with Bulma about."
    "What?  But, Vegeta, I think I should think about---"
    "You've got plenty of time to think," he remarked, pulling the music box out of his pocket.  "And I'll keep this with me until you decide to talk about it.  If you don't show up before your wife leaves, don't expect to get it back.  Ever."
    "B-but...Vegeta...!  That's...special to me..."
    "Then you realize the importance of thinking things through between now and then.  See you later, Kakarrot," Vegeta smirked as he leapt out the window once more.  Now feeling that he had some sort of advantage over Goku, he was in a much better mood.  He had confronted him about one of the problems -- both, really, he supposed -- and the other Saiyajin obviously felt bad.  And now, he was determining the rate at which things progressed.  Yes...control was good.


    "Nn," Goku tried to paced around the room while sorting out the remainder of the contents of his closet.  Well, he already knew he'd have to talk about it now, especially after seeing how much he had hurt Vegeta by not speaking to him.  But did Vegeta know the magnitude of what he was forcing Goku to divulge?  Would he regret his decision?  I guess if he does, he's only got himself to blame...but...I really hope...  At least he knew now why Vegeta had been so upset.  By confiding in Bulma, he was telling Vegeta that he didn't trust him enough.  But...  Goku's eyes widened in realization.  How does Vegeta know I've been talking to Bulma?  Has he been eavesdropping?  Did Bulma tell him?  Oh no...!  How much does he know?


    "Well, how was it this time?" Bulma glanced over her shoulder at Vegeta, noticing the lack of stomping or smashing noises at his entrance.
    "Considerably better," Vegeta smirked, crossing his arms.
    "Did he tell you...?"
    "He will," Vegeta's smirk faded as he remembered his resolution to also speak to Bulma about a few issues.
    "Well, that's good.  Then you can make sure he knows your thoughts afterward, and we'll all feel better after this has been sorted out."
    "About...my thoughts," Vegeta took a seat on the couch beside Bulma.  The woman fidgeted.  This would either be something very good, or very bad.  "I do wish you would have instructed Kakarrot to come speak to me, rather than letting him confide in you all this time."
    "I understand."
    "Although I'm glad that you told me, it put me in an uncomfortable place."
    "Well, yeah," she laughed nervously.  "It'd put anyone in an uncomfortable place."
    "Not that -- I just hated pretending that I didn't know something that I'm sure was and is on his mind all the time."
    "Oh.  All right.  Yeah," she nodded slowly, taking it all in.  This direct, oddly heartfelt conversation was not something she was used to.  Even stranger, it was Vegeta who had initiated it.
    "And..." he finally broke eye contact with her, gazing off to the side, "I thought that perhaps, if you didn't know...  My response when he tells me...will not be the same as my response when you told me what he'd told you."
    "What do you mean?" she bit her lip.  She knew.
    "I lied to you.  About how I felt about it."
    Tears welled up in Bulma's eyes as she nodded.  "I..."
    He pulled her into his arms.  "That's just how things are."


   Vegeta rested on the edge of his bed, fingering the music box.  He wound it and let it play its tune several times through, trying to figure out why it would mean so much to the other Saiyajin.  True, the song was pleasant -- sad and melodic, bittersweet, melancholy -- but he had never seen Goku express any sort of an interest in music.  And, while it was true that he had his sentimental ways, Vegeta would never have imagined anything like this.
    He was almost nervous when the time came that the other man might show up.  It wasn't what Goku would say to him that was the problem -- no, he wasn't quite sure what the problem was.  Vegeta was a bit worried that his reaction wouldn't seem genuine, that Goku would pick up on the fact that he already knew about it, and was putting him through all this for mostly selfish reasons.  And he didn't know how Goku would handle his explanation to Vegeta.  He hoped desperately that there would be no tears -- for they not only made him want to retch, but, coming from the other Saiyajin, they also incited sympathy.  Perhaps it was because Goku only cried for real reasons, but Vegeta did not loathe him for shedding tears, instead hating himself for letting them be his weakness.  He'd only seen Goku cry on a few occasions, and for him it was always a heart-wrenching experience.  Goku was much more closed with his emotions than most of the others seemed to think, and the situation he was in was a perfect example.
    At least everyone knew that Vegeta always kept to himself.  No one assumed that Goku feigned smiles or covered his feelings up with lies.
    The music box's tune clinked to a stop on an odd, lingering chord.
    "Hi, Vegeta."
    The prince jumped at the voice, nearly dropping the object in his hand.
    "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Goku gave a small smile, his voice revealing his nervousness.  His features seemed to be weighted down with worry.  "I um, I came back.  See?"
    Vegeta rolled his eyes.
    "Ah, so..." Goku wondered if he would be able to say everything he had to say before his heart burst out of his chest.  "Um."
    Vegeta held up the music box.  It looked like he would have to start the conversation anyway.  "So, are you going to tell me why you want this back so much?"
    Goku drew in a deep breath.  Time to dive in.  "The song...reminds me of you."
    Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle a bit.  "That's awfully sentimental of you, Kakarrot.  Is that really why it's so valuable to you?"
    "When I'm not having a very good day, or when I need to calm down and relax, and I can't go be with you, I listen to the song instead."
    "Hn," Vegeta's smirk shifted to a smile.  The thought was endearing -- sweet, even.
    "You don't---you don't think that's stupid?" Goku made sure that Vegeta's easy acceptance wasn't too good to be true.
    "A bit," he admitted, smile flitting back to a smirk momentarily, "but I'm not going to condemn you for it."
    Goku relaxed slightly, but tightened up as he remembered the rest of what he was going to have to say.
    Vegeta seemed to have remembered as well, as his expression became more solemn.  "So...what did you talk about with the woman?"
    He glanced away, trying to breathe deeply, but failing miserably as his heart pounded out of control.  His hands twitched a bit, and he glanced back toward Vegeta.  His breath hitched as he tried to gulp in the air, too thick with tension to be breathable.  "Ah..." he began, and then quickly shut his mouth and licked his lips thoughtfully, "I..."
    "What could be so bad that you can't even speak about it to me?" Vegeta crossed his arms.
    The prince's arrogance served only to intensify Goku's unease.  He stood up, breathed deeply, took a few paces around the room, and then stopped in front of Vegeta, facing away from him.  His toes curled and uncurled in his boots, and he ran a hand through his hair.  "I...I think I love you."
    "Love?" Vegeta questioned, keeping his voice keenly neutral.  "That's a very strong word, Kakarrot."
    "I know, Vegeta," his voice quivered in fear, but still Goku did not turn back to the prince.  "But I think it's the truth.  I can't think of another word for it."
    "I can't echo your words back to you," he spoke, his tone still quiet and even.
    Goku hung his head.  "I understand."
    "...Yet."
    He whipped around to find a smugly smirking Vegeta with eyes boring into him.  "You mean---"
    "But then, I don't use those words often anyway."
    As it swelled nearly to the point of bursting, Goku clutched at his chest.
    Vegeta stood regally, his eyes almost smoldering as he witnessed the sheer joy radiating from the other Saiyajin.  "Suffice to say..." he grabbed Goku's limp hand, kissing it tenderly, and then turned it over and pressed the music box into this palm, "...Your feelings are returned."
    Perhaps because it had been on the edge of doing so all along, the music box chimed out another inharmonious chord.  Vegeta glanced at it curiously, the eeriness of the sound a bit unsettling.  Goku just laughed.  Well, they couldn't expect everything to be resolved.