Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ He Means Business ❯ 02 ( Chapter 2 )

The disgustingly sweet air was familiar, and he was most definitely not in Hell anymore. He'd been here before, but he couldn't quite place this place. Perhaps he'd only been here briefly. A small sliver of a creature fluttered by, flamboyant in its coloration, and landed upon an equally ostentatious plant. His ears picked up a faint hum, and he turned to face its source; soft and aimless singing permeated the air from some entity just over the gentle slope of the nauseatingly lush hillside.

 

Maybe he had no other choice—he made his way toward the sound, stepping boldly to the top of the hill and planting his hands against his waist. The singing stopped almost as abruptly as the memory of this place smacked Raditsu over the head. The Saiyajin grinned downward to the source of the noise. "Ah, Farmer. We meet again."

 

 

...

 

 

Bardock frowned, throwing his feet onto the card table. He'd played a few games with some of his old buddies—even that Nappa guy—but it just wasn't the same as with Raditsu. There was no one to mindlessly and persistently accuse him of cheating each time his ever-persistent premonitions about his other son dragged him out of consciousness. There was no one to scream about the real rules of the game, no one to swear at him for being "as stupid as that traitor sonnuvabitch, my brother."

 

No, Hell just wasn't the same since his son had disappeared. He wondered if he should broaden his circle to find someone more entertaining to play cards with, if maybe—

 

Wham, he fell backwards off his chair as he fell unconscious. There was Kakarrot, rapping on a door, rolling from his toes to his heels, and then back to his toes. A woman with blue hair opened the door, and in walked Kakarrot to find—was that Prince Vegeta?—and—was that...Raditsu?

 

Bardock blinked rapidly as he awoke. "Just when you think you ain't gettin' any crazier..."

 

 

...

 

 

Yes, he was on Earth, all right, but hell if he knew why. His father had knocked him out, yes—and he'd woken up—without a halo—here. Well, not here. He'd woken up in a pasture cluttered with anything and everything that could possibly make him retch, short of his very own brother. Here, where he was now, was a different matter.

 

"So? Cough it up. Come on."

 

"B-but Mister, how am I gonna buy my lunch?"

 

He shrugged, snorting, "Steal it. Now give me your currency or I will have to beat it out of you!"

 

"Y-y-you wouldn't r-really beat up a-a-a-a kid, would you?" he stuttered, finding his back pinned to the wall behind him.

 

Raditsu cracked his knuckles. "Oh, I could do more than that."

 

Small change rattled out of the child's pockets and he was gone. Raditsu scooped it up. "So that's what the coinage of these people is like," he scrutinized it for a moment before tossing some of it over his shoulder, suddenly disinterested. "Hey! Woman!" he stepped in front of an older figure. "Direct me to the nearest establishment of edibles!" For good measure, Raditsu slapped the remaining coins against her hand.

 

"There's a grocery store around the corner," she blinked at the change before pointing down the street, "if that's what you mean."

 

"It will do," he sniffed, turning his nose up, and strutted away.

 

 

...

 

 

"Goddammit, Vegeta, just go!" Bulma hissed. "I feel awful. I think you can handle that short of a list just fine."

 

Vegeta glanced it over. "This is not befitting of a prince," he grumbled.

 

She snatched a tissue from the box, followed rapidly by another, and then another. "Well, you'll just have to suck it up. By the way," she raised her eyebrows to denote that what she was about to say was of utmost significance, "don't expect the lobsters to respond."

 

"Lobsters?" Vegeta growled, quickly losing what patience he had left.

 

"You know," Bulma crooned, and raised two fingers to her head to emulate antennae. "With the claws. Reddish-brown. In the back, by the seafood section."

 

"Th-those aren't descendents of the Robustans?"

 

Bulma snorted, trying to suppress a giggle. "Probably not. And I don't think they understood a single one of your insults," she grinned.

 

"Why didn't you tell me last time?" he nearly roared, his ears and cheeks tinged with red. "I knew I never should have gone to that accursed food store with you."

 

She simply snickered again. "Get going, Vegeta." As he made his way for the door, she reclined, reaching for another tissue. "I wonder how long it'll take this business to crop up..." Bulma sighed, rapping her fingers against the table. "It's been a week...isn't that long enough?" She coughed and drew up a stack of paper. "Guess there's nothing wrong with a little preemptive brainstorming..."

 

 

...

 

 

"All right," Raditsu leaned down. "And here I was thinking this place just sold canned goods. Who knew I'd find the likes of you here?" he bared his teeth. "I finally find something that crawls, but it's just you scum of the universe..."

 

Glancing around him, the Saiyajin noticed that the others in the store wheeled around wire frames to hold their goods. He grabbed a mostly empty one from nearby and lifted the tank; its sloshing was negligible as he lowered it into the basket. "I have some questions for you," he wagged his finger at it, "and I hope by the time I leave this place you'll be willing to talk." Giving the wheeled apparatus a shove, Raditsu continued through the grocery store, piling slabs of meat into the area of the cart that wasn't filled by the aquarium. He heard a quick tip-tap-tip-tap coming from behind him and turned to find a young man preparing to tap him on the shoulder.

"S-sir, you can't just take the lob...sters..." he started, glancing around Raditsu to look at the cart. "Say, how'd you get that in there, anyway?"

 

"Same way as you got it on that stand, I imagine," he started, but then narrowed his eyes and smirked. "Oh yeah, that's right, you humans are total weaklings. Well, never mind, then," he turned around and continued on his way. The young man's lips moved, but no air came through his mouth. After Raditsu turned the corner, the youth heaved a sigh and returned to his station.

 

Raditsu noted with mild irritation the numerous raised stands that stood between himself and the doorway. At each stood a person of the same approximate age as the other boy, gawking at him. Finally, he decided to wheel his cart between the space that separated two of these counters, and met hesitant babbling about "checking out" and "paying" and "you can't do that." An irritating buzz emanated from the surrounding area, and Raditsu growled.

 

"You have to pay for that, sir!"

 

"Like hell I do," he rumbled. "I'll kill you if you try to make me."

 

"Th-that's...er...I...I..."

 

"Raditsu?" came a voice he knew. The Saiyajin swiveled his head to the left, facing the entrance to the store.

 

"V-Vegeta?" His brows furrowed; he'd forgotten that the man had taken up residence on this pathetic planet. But then, perhaps he hadn't actually forgotten; after all, why had he been biding his time for the past days, rather than having a little more fun blowing things up? He must have remembered at some level that this was Vegeta's home, enough to decide that destroying it wouldn't be worth experiencing his rage.

 

"What the hell are you doing here?" the prince demanded, and from the tone of his voice Raditsu wasn't sure if Vegeta was happy to see him, or might just kill him on the spot. After a moment's pause and further observation of the other Saiyajin, Vegeta added, "You don't have a halo—you're alive!" and he struggled not to stare with the same half-open mouth as all the other occupants of the store.

 

"No shit," Raditsu waved his hand over his head. "What I don't get, is how."

 

Vegeta's eyes widened as one potential cause struck him. "When...did this happen?"

 

Raditsu seemed to count back days on his fingers. "Maybe six or seven evenings ago."

 

"You've got to be kidding me."

 

"Could've been five...or eight..." he amended in response." First few days kinda blurred together." Raditsu frowned and pondered his situation for a moment. "I was thinking maybe you had finally decided to wish me back, after all those years. You know. With those, hm, whatsit balls..." His eyes narrowed. "Which begs the question..."

 

"Raditsu!" Vegeta shouted before the man's thoughts could follow that path any farther. "You're...you're..."

 

"What? Forgotten? Needlessly tossed aside? Inconsequential in the grand scheme of things? I don't think so! I think—"

 

"Raditsu...you...are the perfect businessman."