Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Everything Happens For A Reason ❯ A Helping Hand ( Chapter 21 )

 

Everything Happens for a Reason

 

Chapter Twenty

 

A Helping Hand

 

Disclaimer: Nope, DBZ isn't mine.

 

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Yamcha pulled out a tumbler from the kitchen cabinet, offered it to Shuma, and found one for himself. Puar hadn't used the apartment much over the last year and there wasn't any refreshment to offer his guest other than a glass of cheap whisky won in a raffle a few years back. It didn't bother Yamcha. He definitely needed a stiff drink, irrespective of the amount already consumed that evening, and he had an idea that Shuma would probably need one too. Having set Puar down in her kitty basket, and with the confidence she was out for the night, Yamcha and Shuma were now free to talk openly.

 

The drink poured, Yamcha watched as Shuma's new and delicate button nose, cautiously sniffed the contents of the glass. “I didn't poison it, if that's what you think” he said, in an attempt to break the awkwardness.

 

“Probably would have smelled better if you had.”

 

Yamcha laughed and Shuma continued his inspection of the clear brown liquid. He held it to the light and it sparkled. “What is it?”

 

“Whiskey - it's an alcohol based drink,” Yamcha explained.

 

“Really?” He brought it down, swirled it around the bottom of the glass, and inhaled the aroma again. “Interesting. Is it like sake?”

 

“Kind of. The sake in Other World is a high percentage like whiskey, but it tastes very different.”

 

Shuma shrugged, “Good enough for me!” Tipping his head back, he downed it all in one go.

 

Yamcha smiled and did the same, grimacing as it burned all the way down. He never was a big spirit drinker and this whiskey was strong and not especially palatable. His own discomfort, however, seemed nothing to Shuma's!

 

“Holy crap!” the demon wheezed. “Is that alcohol or paint stripper?”

 

Yamcha shuddered at the aftertaste. “Ugh! Somewhere in between I think. Do you want another?”

 

Shuma looked quizzically at the glass and then nodded. “It might taste like shit, but I think I need it. This has been one fucked up day!”

 

“Yeah tell me about it,” Yamcha agreed, pouring Shuma another. “But we've still got one thing to sort out.”

 

“We do?” Shuma's voice was changed as much as his appearance. Whereas in Other World it had been harsh, and brusque, with a touch of the colloquial- now it was feminine - high, lilting, and with an innocent quality that was hard to fathom.

 

Yamcha ran a hand through his long black hair. He couldn't let Shuma's new appearance distract him. “ We need to find you somewhere to stay.”

 

Shuma's brow furrowed. His ruby painted lips pouted, making Yamcha's already dumbfounded senses struggle to find continuity. To make it even worse he found that it was harder to be an arsehole to Shuma when he looked so… well… hot! “What's wrong with me staying here?” Shuma asked, his golden eyes, large and shimmering. “Is this the gratitude I get for the training I gave you in Other World!”

 

“What training?” Yamcha joked, trying desperately to put things on an even keel. Shuma just stared at him. “But seriously.” He swallowed. “You can't stay here.”

 

The illusion was smashed. Wide pleading eyes instantly thinned and slanted. “Why the fuck not?” Hard lines underlined the soft curves of his face and at once the determined demeanour of his demon tormentor was back at the fore.

 

Yamcha felt positively stupefied by the phenomenon. His eyes were seeing one thing and his brain was reasoning another. In turn they were both waging war with his body. This was a seriously BAD situation and he wasn't a hundred percent sure that Shuma wasn't using his new body to get his own way. This was an idea that - if found to be true - would warrant a good fist in the face. “W…w… well,” he stammered, “for a start there aren't enough bedrooms.”

 

“I'll sleep on the couch.” Shuma reasoned. “Believe me, I've slept on worse.”

 

“That maybe true, but aren't you forgetting something?”

 

“I don't know, am I?”

 

“No one is supposed to know who you are, right?” Yamcha sighed. “People are going to ask questions. Puar especially. I think she might get a little suspicious when I introduce you as an `old friend' when she's known me practically all my life.”

 

“Make something else up,” he muttered and then downed his new shot. “Who's Puar anyway?”

 

“Puar's my flatmate - the one I just put to bed.”

 

“I see.” Then there was a pause. “Hang on?” Shuma shook his head. “Are you trying to tell me your flatmate is your pet cat?”

 

Yamcha growled low in the throat. “Puar is NOT a pet. She is my best friend and just as intelligent and cognisant as you and I are.”

 

Shuma held his slim and elegantly manicured hands up in defence. “My bad.” Then a curl of the lips. “Whatever turns you on!”

 

“It's not like that!”

 

“Really?” Shuma moved closer and nudged his arm. “Admit it!” he crooned. “You only want me to leave because your little kitty girlfriend will get jealous if I stay.”

 

Yamcha pushed him away. “You're sick!”

 

“Why, thank you!”

 

“Ugh! And you wonder why I don't want you staying here!”

 

“All I've heard so far are excuses,” he said bluntly. “If you don't want me hanging around then you can at least give me the honour of a real reason, and quit fobbing me off with a whole heap of horse shit.”

 

Yamcha's shoulders sagged. “Come on,” Shuma encouraged with a wink. “You can tell me.” He grinned. “Besides, you know I'll find it out anyway.”

 

Shuma was right. He was making excuses. There was only one problem on his mind right now, and keeping it to himself would only make a bad situation worse. He knew enough of Shuma's disposition to know when he was one hundred percent serious and if the demon were there for the long haul then he couldn't leave anything to chance.

 

“Bulma,” he admitted. “I don't want Bulma to see you.”

 

Shuma seemed to consider this statement. “And what kind of a creature is Bulma?” he asked snidely. “A budgie - a rabbit perhaps?”

 

Yamcha's face felt red-hot. “She's human and she's my girlfriend!” he snapped.

 

Shuma merely smiled, an alive and teasing smile, designed to let Yamcha see how much pleasure he got from goading him. “See,” he cooed. “That wasn't so hard was it? But I still don't see the problem. I could be a relative, an old family friend, something like that. It won't be hard to lie to her”

 

“Yes,” he countered. “It will. You can't lie to Bulma! I swear she can see through a lie like you and I can a window, and besides, have you seen yourself! I mean REALLY seen yourself! Bulma would throw a fit if she knew I was sharing my flat with someone who looked like you. We're on bad enough ground as it is, and I'm not prepared to put my head on the block right now. I'm sorry,” his voice grew quieter. “She's too important to me.”

 

“Is she pretty?”

 

“Very!” He smiled, glad to be on a subject where he could truthfully show off. “Intelligent as well. She runs one of the biggest technological companies in Japan.”

 

“Which in turn makes her very rich?”

 

Yamcha felt his eyes slit and his lips draw into a frown. “That hasn't got anything to do with it.”

 

Shuma laughed. “I'm sure her money has no appeal whatsoever.”

 

“No,” he said hotly and honestly. “It doesn't.”

 

“Fine, fine, I understand. So,” he said, walking passed Yamcha and putting his glass in the sink. “Where do you suggest I go?”

 

“We need to find you a hotel, somewhere where we can meet up regularly without creating suspicion, and somewhere where you can earn your own keep. Unless, off course, your pride can cope with constant hand outs from me?”

 

“No pride could suffer that humiliation,” he agreed. “Do you have anything in mind?”

 

Yamcha smiled. “As a matter of fact, I think I do.” He looked Shuma up and down. “Do you have anything warmer to wear?”

 

Shuma shook his head. “This was all Yemma gave me - fucking arsehole!”

 

“It's no big deal, take my coat and I'll quickly find another. It's not a comfortable temperature all year round here like it is in Other World. It drops below freezing at night this time of the year, and as much as I like to see you suffer I'm not so cruel as to make you walk through the freezing West Capitol back roads in nothing but an evening dress.”

 

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The horizon shone a brilliant red, somewhere between blood and wine, and sparkled against the setting of a foreboding mountain range. It stretched as far as the eye could see and probably long beyond. There was no life, no foliage, nothing that would draw the ordinary sightseer to such a desolate spot. Volcanoes raged all around - the heat oppressive and the ash settling in the sky and drifting down like suffering snow. It was a scene torn straight out of the pictures of hell, but this was no afterlife. This was real, the very true visage of a planet twenty-seven light-years from Earth in an area of space that Bulma's Spaceship called the Vega system.

 

By Saiyan standards this was only a hop skip and a jump away from her planet, but it was also Vegeta's first logical stop. New Venus, as the female had dubbed it, or Planet 2254 - as he knew it better as - was the first inhabitable planet on the way to Namek, or at least to where Namek once resided. Vegeta was no slouch - the math was already done. For a ship, even as slow as the Earthlings, it would take Kakarrot no longer than two weeks max to return home. That meant one of two things. He was either incapable, or unwilling to return to his own planet straight away. Vegeta had several theories about this. If Kakarrot were seriously injured from his fight with Frieza (which stood to reason) then he would probably plot a course for the nearest and safest inhabitable planet known to his ships data and recuperate there.

 

This planet was not it, but that didn't concern Vegeta. He couldn't afford to leave any stone unturned. In total there were five such planets between Earth and Namek, and he couldn't ignore that Kakarrot might be recovering on any one of them. With the exception of one or two pressing detours he would scour them all. From top to bottom, every crevice, every canyon would be searched. He would not let Kakarrot hide from their destiny. Vegeta would track him down, hunt him out, and take his victory, no matter where the battlefield would be.

 

That being all said and done, however, Vegeta didn't really think this current planet was a very conducive place to recover. The blinding heat and continual igneous storms would make most creatures flee, let alone those who only knew the luxury, ease, and beauty the planet Earth had to offer. Still, it was inhabitable, was outside the Ice-jin's empire, and was overlooked by those who still patrolled the area, oblivious to their master's demise. Kakarrot might be uncomfortable recovering here, but he would almost certainly be safe. Vegeta wouldn't be able to rest easy knowing he made up his mind on a hunch. Every planet was to be searched, and every power fluctuation was to be verified, no matter how small.

 

Something clicked. It was a small phenomenon, a little glimpse of something out of the ordinary, like a light being switched on and invading the blanket of cognisance. A power level! It was to the east and extremely small, but it was still an energy signature worth investigating. He honed in on it, magnified it, and in a blaze of ki he shot into the sky, determined to find the source.

 

 

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“Rather him than me!” King Kai exclaimed. “What is he hoping to achieve?”

 

“What do you think?” the Grand Kai replied, pacing through the mountains and over the spot Vegeta just vacated. “He's after that lad, Goku. The one you trained.”

 

“I know that, but Vegeta's not strong enough to take Goku on, not now he's a Super Saiyajin! He must realise that.”

 

“I'd have to agree with King Kai,” Yemma added. “Goku would beat him easily.”

 

The Grand Kai, looked at them both, a wry smile on his lips. He then clapped his hands and the planet disappeared. He opened his arms and the twin palace doors opened allowing them all back into the main halls.

 

“I'm not doubting that Goku is the stronger,” The Grand Kai agreed. “What I am doubting is his ability to take Vegeta on and win.” He took his guests out onto the front lawn, introduced them to the bench there and relaxed as they both digested what he was saying.

 

“You think Goku's too placid?” King Kai asked at last.

 

“That amongst other things,” he agreed. “Now, I may not have met Goku yet, but I've read his profile and I've re-watched his fights. Goku is stronger, but Vegeta has better ability. He is smarter in battle, more unpredictable, and… here's the cream… he has no emotional hang ups to hold him back. Now goodness is a quality I admire, and it's been a very long time since I saw so much strength accompanied with so much innocence, but I also have to say I admire Vegeta as well.”

 

“You admire him?”

 

“Of course.” The Grnad Kai stretched out on the bench, laid back and relaxed. “Have either of you actually even studied Vegeta's files? Watched the playbacks of his life so far?”

 

“We went over the files very carefully,” Yemma defended. “Earth administration is very careful in the study of all its inhabitants, especially those with a history as… how would you say it… involved as Vegeta's. We cross-referenced and recovered data on him from all over the galaxy. It was one of the biggest administrative pull-togethers Earth check in has ever undertaken.”

 

“Then you should have no problems understanding me. For the life he was forced to lead, for the way he conducted himself throughout it, and for the fighter he has turned into, we have no choice but to admire him.”

 

They both nodded. “Which leads me onto the reason I brought you here.”

 

“A contingency plan?” asked King Kai.

 

“Precisely!” Grand Kai agreed. “So tell me, what has the north quadrant and Earth admin been working on to keep the Saiyan prince under control, and to keep their interests safe, over the last half year?”

 

King Kai frowned and looked accusingly at King Yemma. “Oh not much in particular, only screwing over one of my pupils, eh Yemma?”

 

Earth's keeper remained impassive under the claim. “You know very well that there was a sixty-five percent chance they would split up anyway!”

 

“And now, because of our interference?”

 

“It's risen to eighty-five percent. A very healthy increase. Besides, you were the one who suggested it in the first place.”

 

To this accusation King Kai jumped from the bench, his face burning a bright red. “All I said was that I thought Vegeta was taking an interest in her and that maybe… maybe… we could use it to our advantage. I certainly didn't expect you to meddle in the life of a very nice, honest, and caring young man.”

 

Here Grand Kai coughed. “Excuse me gentlemen, but I seem to have lost you. Can you please explain to me what it is that two of my senior members of staff are fighting over?”

 

“Well,” King Kai said, quick to jump in and give his version of events. “When Vegeta was first wished back to this planet, he was taken in - very generously and possibly a little foolishly - by a young lady by the name of Bulma. As you may imagine - considering Vegeta's past - both Yemma and I monitored Vegeta's actions very closely during the first few weeks.”

 

“And what were your findings?”

 

“It appeared, under the females hospitality and the inducement that he would be given enough time to try and attain Super Saiyajin before Goku was wished back, Vegeta was more than ready to behave himself. Therefore we decided that no immediate action needed to be taken.”

 

The Grand Kai nodded, and twisted the ends of his moustache as he thought. “I agree with this. Interference at that stage would have done more harm than good. You were both right to leave him be. But…” he smiled, “ this doesn't tie in with what you were saying before. I presume you were forced into interfering.”

 

“We had no choice,” Yemma admitted, taking over the narrative. “At that point we, as Vegeta did, believed Goku was dead. A circumstance that I own some blame in. I assumed he was dead, when an easy enquiry to Nameks quadrant would have informed me he wasn't. This was, I fully admit, a huge oversight on my part.”

 

Grand Kai bowed his head. “You are a busy man, Yemma. Don't let it get you down.”

 

“Thank you.” He bowed in return. “But believing Goku dead, we realized we only had a few short months until Goku would be wished back. An event, that were Vegeta able to transform within that time, could be catastrophic for not only the Earth, but the entire universe.”

 

“It was at about this time that we decided to spy on him on a regular basis,” King Kai added. “We used a human host. The girl, Bulma, who had taken him in. We watched him for long periods of time, and that was when it came to my attention. He was developing a friendship with this girl. A friendship, which I might add, was only just backed up by the Other World statistics office - at fifty-five percent - of blossoming into something more meaningful, given the right time and circumstances.”

 

“Low statistics to take a gamble on,” The Grang Kai said lowly, shaking his head.

 

“That's true,” Yemma interjected. “But statistics that would sky-rocket if a certain event were to take place.”

 

The Grand Kai groaned. “Oh no!” he exclaimed, running a hand over his face.

 

“That's right,” King Kai sighed. “The statistics were low because this girl, Bulma, was already involved with one of my pupils, Yamcha. I sent the file to you a few months back.”

 

“Oh yes. The Desert Bandit turned Z fighter.” He got up, took a pace forward, and ran his hand through his white hair. “I'm not sure I like the way this is going,” he admitted. “But I think Yemma was right in following it. The statistics at present for a confrontation between Goku and Vegeta are teetering on the even. It is too risky for them to fight. Do you have the statistics on the relationship with the Earthling Bulma, without Yamcha in the equation.”

 

Yemma smiled. “Right here and hot off the press!” He passed the piece of paper to The Grand Kai who read it hungrily.

 

After a pause, as he mulled through the fine print, his eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Well now,” he said somewhat breathlessly. “Doesn't that make a difference!” He rubbed his chin, a gleam in his eye. “These are the new statistics to work off. Everything happens for a reason, and in this instance more than any other, it will be for a damned good reason.” He looked at both his conspirators. “King Kai, go back to your planet and observe as discretely as possible. We cannot let your two current charges know what we are planning against their friend. I will stay here and do my best to prevent Vegeta and Goku running into each other. Oh and King Yemma?”

 

“Yes, sir?”

 

“Does our young demon friend know of these plans?”

 

“No, sir, he doesn't.”

 

“But,” Grand Kai said knowingly. “You have used him in the affair?”

 

“That is correct.”

 

The Grand Kai looked scathingly at King Yemma for a moment, and then threw his head back in raucous laughter. “Serves the little shit right!”

 

 

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Shuma looked up at the old building. There were large cracks in the yellowing plaster, the windows didn't look like they were washed at any time during the last century, and there was fresh vomit lying in puddles on the pavement outside. He got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, and the longer they waited for the door to be answered the worse it got.

 

“You're not trying to shit me over are you?” he asked Yamcha.

 

“What! Me?” Yamcha replied with a grin. “Okay, as much as the thought tempts me, this establishment is the perfect answer to our little problem.”

 

“How so exactly?”

 

“This, my demon friend, is The Buck. Western Capitol's finest public house and one of my favourite drinking dens.” He knocked on the door. This time it was a lot louder in the hopes the Landlady would hear him. “Puar and I come in here all the time. It's perfect. Not only can you stay as a guest in one of the bed and breakfast rooms here, but there might well be a chance for employment too.”

 

“I'd get to work in a bar?” Shuma asked, getting a little excited at the prospect.

 

“Yep! Lots of smoking, drinking, and swearing! You'll love it!”

 

Shuma chuckled. “I think you might be on to something.”

 

“See,” Yamcha bragged. “I might be an arsehole to you, but I do get some things right. All I have to do now is convince Bessie that you're worth employing!”

 

Shuma, about to shout an indignant reply, was rendered silent when a latch sprung away and an upstairs window was thrown open. “What the bloody hell do you think you're doing knocking on my door at this time of the… oh!” Bessie stopped mid sentence when she saw who it was. “Well, well Yamcha. What a pleasant surprise. Here to make an old gal very happy and keep her bed warm on such a cold night.”

 

Yamcha laughed. “You know, if I weren't a taken man, I might take you up on that.” He winked.

 

Shuma tried hard to restrain from laughing out loud, or at least making a snide comment. Yamcha's only help was an elbow into the side of his ribs. “Shut up, do you want this job or not?”

 

“What your little heiress doesn't know won't hurt her,” Bessie cooed. “You need the help of an experienced lady. I could show you things Bulma would blush to read about.”

 

“I don't doubt it, but as tempting as the offer is, I'm here for purely business purposes. Can you spare me five minutes?”

 

Bessie shrugged her shoulders, almost falling out of her nightdress - much to Shuma's dismay. “Okay duckie, it's a shame, but I'll be down in two shakes.”

 

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A/N - A long time in coming (as usual) but I hope you like it.