Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Hope Leaves ❯ Hope Leaves ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

I dress myself in darkness
in cloth woven from shadows
concealing all secret thoughts, desires
and every transgression
until dawn breaks in
uncovering my nakedness

It was deep in the night during the darkest hour, the hour that comes just before the dawn, that a pair of black eyes flew wide open. Despite the appearance of pure nothingness within the room there were vivid, violent images passing wildly across his vision, casting a spell over the mind that was forcefully projecting them and luring it deeper and deeper into a twisted reality of long ago.
'Hey, hey hun... hey! Are you awake?'
Vegeta didn't respond to the worried voice beside him, trapped in a powerful trance and unable to sense anything outside of it.
'Vegeta you're dreaming, wake UP!' She said this last part quite loudly and punctuated it with a slap to his forehead. It got the desired effect, she seemed to have acquired his partial attention. A tense silence filled the air.
'Woman,' he whispered after some time had passed, 'you have the most impolite ways of waking people up.'
'You were dreaming again, I'm sorry. Are you OK?'
'A feeble slap won't kill me.'
'That's not what I-'
'Shh. Lay down.'
She let out a small huff at being ordered around, but she was used to it by now. It was having her questions evaded that annoyed her the most. Still she lay back down, too tired to care at the moment, and as she did she felt a hand snake around her waist and draw her into the warm body that had always curved to fit her own so well. Hot breath now danced over her neck and earlobe like a summer breeze. She was somewhat irritated but did not pull away, allowing herself to sink into the comforting heat of the contact, to relax as their bare limbs slowly curled and twisted together like tree roots and their skins melted together like sap. The hand stroked her stomach for a while, tickling ever so slightly, then began to knead her back and breasts. Fingers moved around, over and through the canopy of her flesh, molding, flattening and leaving impressions as if they were wandering through plains of soft white sand.
She felt his other hand reach under and around her, coming to rest in the crevice between her thighs where it began rhythmically stroking, first slowly, then quickly, then slowly again, creating an ebb and flow of blissful sensations at the complete mercy of his will. Their breathing grew harsh and ragged like sea air and their movements feverish strokes as they drew closer still, his strong arms encircling and lifting her then practically throwing her against the wall. The increasing roughness of these acts seemed to mesmerize her and a powerful, irresistible current was dragging her further and further out into stormy waters, leaving nagging thoughts behind on the almost forgotten shore. He flowed into her with the force of waves crashing into one another and inevitably becoming unified as they meet, a force that drew her deep under into beautiful darkness, gasping for breath as she drowned...
But something brought her rapidly to the surface.
'Wait stop!' she squawked, louder than intended, and got an even louder reply.
'Goddamn it woman, WHAT?!'
'You... you didn't answer my question-'
'What fucking question?!'
'Well, you know. Are you alright?'
'I'm not NOW!'
'Stop avoiding my fucking question!'
'I've no idea what you're talking about you raving lunatic-'
'Yes you do, stop lying!'
The only response this last remark earned her was a frustrated growl and the sound of her husband's body flopping unceremoniously back onto the bed.
'Nothing to say now? That's just like you, giving me the silent treatment whenever you don't get your way.'
'Hmph. Go to sleep. It's far too early in the morning for your theatrics.'
'How convenient for you. I'll just go back to sleep and wait till you're ready to talk about this thing which by the way is affecting people other than yourself, not that that would matter to you.'
'Sounds like an excellent idea.'
'Note the sarcasm. If I wait for you to be ready I'll be waiting a lifetime.'
'I don't know what the fuck is the matter with you lately woman, but whatever it is you're driving me insane!'
'I honestly don't think you need my help in that department. Not the way you're headed.' Bulma felt the tension begin to rise like hot air the moment the cruel words were out of her mouth, making the room feel cramped and stifling. There was quiet for a minute or two, more unbearable than any harsh words could be.
'Are you calling me crazy?' He said, finally breaking the silence with a voice that was dangerously low, a voice she knew like the back of her hand and did not fear at all. It was part of a simple but deceptive facade constructed to frighten people away when they came too close to uncovering the things he would have preferred stayed hidden, and she no longer paid it any mind.
'No, I'm just angry,' she replied sincerely. 'I want you to see what you're doing to yourself and me and this family. These dreams you have, they're not normal-.'
'What would you know? Been inside my head have you? Perhaps you should tell me what you saw there before you tell me what's normal and what isn't.'
'I don't have to be inside your head to know that what's in there is tearing you apart piece by piece. You dream when you're asleep, when you're awake, you... you... I can't deal with your moods anymore! If you'd just talk about it every once in a while then at least I'd know what was going on and be able to try to understand! And maybe you wouldn't feel the need to disappear or go quiet for days on end! Maybe you'd just feel a little more balanced and normal instead of angry one minute and calm the next. It can make things a whole lot easier when someone actually understands what you're going through you know. I could help you, maybe. You have absolutely nothing to say about this. You're not even listening are you?'
'What's the point? I've heard it all before. I'm not going to listen to this bullshit over ad over again. I am not crazy and I resent you implying that I am. You've got some nerve.'
'Do you know what people who are mentally ill say when you tell them they're sick?'
'What? Since you know so much, tell me. What do they say?' he sneered.
'They say 'I'M FINE!'.'
The crackling heat of his energy could be felt coursing through the room as a bird outside the window sang its morning hymns, oblivious to what was going on inside. The air practically sizzled with electricity only for it to dissipate as quickly as it had begun to buzz across her flushed skin, leaving the emptiness once more. Bulma watched in the partial darkness as Vegeta stormed out of their bedroom angrily and stood on the balcony for a moment, looking back at her with fire in his eyes, a look which she returned with equal intensity. There was an unflinching determination in her gaze as though she'd acquired some new found strength, but rather than being cocky about it she was simply waiting for the right moment to test it out.
'This isn't over Vegeta. Not this time. You can fly off where ever you want but it won't change a thing. We aren't done here. Come back when you're ready to discuss this like an adult.'
The expression in those sharp blue eyes that accompanied the stern warning was far from fading, and as much as he hated to admit it it almost scared him. Sure enough, within a few seconds the only visible thing one would see looking out on the balcony was still air and a wisp of dawn's light on the horizon.
***
Birds fluttered noisily from the huge willow tree as it fell heavily to the ground, having been split to the core by a fierce blow. At the same time an enraged cry shattered the calm of the otherwise silent sunrise. Vegeta stood in front of the fallen tree feeling slightly better and less frustrated despite the throbbing in his hand, which if he thought about it was really a welcome sensation that served to ground him. If there was one thing he'd learned over the years about dealing with unwanted emotions, it was that physical pain was an endlessly useful tool for jolting you back into reality.
The anger was however far from being gone, thus it was as yet undecided how long it would be before he would return to her, not if she was going to go accusing him of being crazy. She might as well have called him weak or prideless; it would have been just as unfounded and insulting. She said she couldn't handle his moods, well he couldn't handle her nagging or her disrespect, besides she was imagining things and blowing them out of proportion. These dreams were nowhere near as terrible as she made them out to be, and anyway who honestly believed that talking about dreams of all things or would fix problems? They were just meaningless slide shows playing through the mind during sleep, bits ad pieces of whatever memories and thoughts and happenings had gone through your mind at some level at some time... maybe. But it didn't matter either way, it meant nothing who was right and who was wrong- the point was that if she thought she had the right to tell him what he was and what he should do than she had entirely forgotten her place!
'Goddamn you cursed woman!' he growled, about to drive the already damaged hand into another unsuspecting tree when something very odd came to his attention. Where once the atmosphere had been quiet, still, faintly alight, there was now a great cold wind tearing through the willow trees sending leaves spiraling madly in all directions, whilst the glowing rays of the gradually rising sun were now all but invisible.'
What on earth...he thought warily, his coal black eyes darting around searching carefully for the cause of the sudden inexplicable display of weather, when suddenly they fixed on a very unusual sight. There in a clearing about 30 meters away stood a frail looking middle aged man in a long, grimy coat that he suspected was once white and was not terribly unlike the ones Bulma wore whilst she worked. His hair was a mess of wispy white ringlets that shone like a halo beneath the lamp that hung from the weeping willow overhead, its leaves partially draping him like a curtain as if to protect him. It was a fragile sight if he ever saw one, but something in his gut told him to be wary, that something wasn't right here, that it was best not to be fooled by superficial appearances.
'Quite the entrance you made there, stranger. Some sought of sorcerer are you?' When this got no answer whatsoever, Vegeta began to get angry. If this man was some sought of enemy he'd pay a high price for intruding here, that was certain.
'You better answer me old man,' he snarled, getting into a fighting stance. 'State your name and business or prepare for battle!'
'I'm not so old,' came the strange, airy voice, 'and yet I am also very old. Older than you.'
'Don't test my patience by speaking in riddles! Now I'll give you one last chance before I kill you for trespassing here. Your name and purpose.'
'I cannot tell, is it fall here? Consulting the trees has done nothing for me, there are so few of them. But this one is lovely.' A pale hand reached up to stroke the leaves of the willow. It was this odd, gentle gesture that made Vegeta relax a little and wonder if this was perhaps just another mental patient that had escaped the mad house down the road, and all the kerfuffle with the weather was just a coincidence.
'How you've changed Vegeta. You're much more patient than you were once, of that I can assure you. A few decades back and you'd have reduced my body to ashes by now.'
Vegeta omitted a small gasp, his fists tightening once more. 'How... how do you know me?'
'The question is not how I know you but how you do not know me. But this is perhaps a little unfair. We met long ago when you were very young, and I know of all your deeds since then. I'm not the only one mind you, you made quite the impression where ever you left survivors.'
Vegeta tried to take this in as he thought of what to say next.
'So I take it your here for revenge then? Try to take it if you dare. If you know so much about me you must also know how foolish that would be. Best leave before it's too late.'
'Show mercy now do you? It's more than I expected. I mean you know harm saiyan. You've nothing to fear.'
'Don't flatter yourself, I've nothing to fear regardless. And give me one good reason I should believe you. You say you know my deeds, yet you also say you mean me no harm and I'm supposed to buy that without question? No man who knows my deeds would say that.'
'That's where you're wrong. Everyone has a little good and a little evil inside of them; if a man has the propensity to commit atrocities then he must also have the propensity do great things. Everything here is made of stone it seems... tell me, do the leaves ever fall?'
'I have to disagree with you there. Most men I've known who are accustomed to committing atrocities aren't interested in much else unless it serves them somehow, thus negating any propensity they might have had for doing good. And if you must know this is a city, so yes, most everything is made of stone now stop avoiding my questions with your rambling about the trees! Tell me who you are.'
'I wasn't speaking about the landscape,' he said with a smile. 'I'm a doctor, if you must know.'
'You need one,' Vegeta muttered under his breath.
'Perhaps, perhaps.'
Once again Vegeta was surprised. How had he heard that from where he was standing? His hearing must have been keen. That made it certain then, there was no way he was of this world.
'OK then doctor, tell me why you're here if that's not too difficult for you.'
'I come from the the ruined ends of the south quadrant-'
'Great galaxies how did you get here? That's the other side of the universe!'
'-but I have been traveling in this direction for many, many years which is how I came to be here. As to why I came to be here, you wouldn't have heard about this but there's a lot of trouble in the south quadrant and even in parts of the east and west,' the doctor said somberly.
'Believe me I've heard of it. Had you served in Frieza's army you'd know there's some kind of trouble everywhere. There's always some homicidal madman fucking up one part of the galaxy or another, it's nothing new. Surely you're not here just to tell me that,' Vegeta replied in a bored tone.
'If it's nothing new then please, tell me how much you know.'
'I know of the people who laid claim to the south quadrant years ago but they're nothing to get excited about it. Frieza had control over them just like he did everyone else, and I trust you know what became of Frieza.'
'Frieza was killed by a saiyan. And it wasn't you,' the doctor blurted out, knowing instantly it had been the wrong thing to say when he saw the younger man's face contort into a bitter scowl.
'Its part of the problem you know,' he continued, hoping to distract from what had just been said, 'Frieza being gone that is. He kept them under control, and you may have thought they were nothing to get excited about a long time ago but believe me, things have changed.' This statement only earned the doctor a condescending stare.
'A likely story. And I suppose you're looking for someone to help you? I'm afraid the savior of the universe is on a high altitude holiday at the moment.'
'I'm didn't come here looking for Kakarott, he won't be able to provide the assistance I require.'
'Oh really? Well, as you've obviously heard he's the saiyan who defeated Frieza. I'm sure his aid will be sufficient to rid you of the insignificant pests you're having so much trouble with. Go bother him.
'Please, just give me a chance to explain myself. I don't need anyone to fight at all. No wait, just listen!
They call themselves the Southern Star Army and all their power is in their numbers. Laugh if you want to, but they're a lot more underhanded than Frieza was and it serves them well. They go to planets which they're not interested in selling to recruit soldiers, especially young ones. They convince the people that their children will have a better life in the service of Southern Star, tell them all sorts of lies about what it is that they do. And the planets they are interested in well... you know what happens in those cases. If people only knew what they were actually doing... but there are no survivors from the planets they sell. If someone who knows these kinds of people for what they truly are could just help raise the alarm...'
'Someone who knows If you traveled for the seven odd years it would have taken you to get from the polar opposite corner of the universe to my residence here on earth, just to ask me to give seminars that you could easily give yourself, then I'm afraid your in serious need of psychiatric help. But rest assured, you'll fit in exceedingly well with the humans,' Vegeta chuckled.
'But nobody listens to me Vegeta. Most of the time they've no idea who I am, and if they do they think I'm insane. Or want to kill me,' the man said, hints of distress creeping into his voice.
'That's preposterous, why would anyone think you're insane?'
The doctor pressed on, ignoring the insult. 'But you would have far more valuable information than I in these matters. And everyone knows who you are.'
'Well this is me we're talking about,' Vegeta gloated. He had to strain to hear the reply (accompanied by a subtle roll of the eyes) which sounded something like, 'Your reputation precedes you in more ways than one.'
'Whatever. Look, I'm done dancing around this ridiculous proposal of yours. I won't help you, and you don't need my help anyway, because here on this planet you'll have sanctuary. You're safe now. Now be gone.' With these words Vegeta began to move in the direction of the gates that lead out of capsule corps, but the pale haired stranger placed a hand gently on his shoulder and looked into his eyes sincerely.
'Please. People will listen to you. People will listen.'
'It seems you're completely in the dark about simple minded commoners who are too used to peace and tranquility. They're ignorant and soft, they won't listen to you until its too late. I wouldn't waste a single word on them,' came the callous reply, earning a shocked look from the doctor.
'How can you say such a thing? Don't you have the compassion to try, to at least give them the chance to listen? And I can't waste words on them because I have no words for them, that's why I came to-'
'And neither do I! None that they will hear. Men with warning stories of war and horror will come and go, but like prophets nobody listens to them. And don't speak to me about compassion; if you've got it in your mind to guilt me into helping you as penance for my past sins then its more than words your wasting. Now leave or I'll make you regret coming here.'
When this barely veiled threat earned no response from the doctor, he continued, his voice growing louder and angrier with every word.
'Go on then, my patience is wearing thin!'
'I...' the doctor began, then gaining more confidence added, 'I do not wish to cause you guilt, nor to blackmail you in anyway. I ask for your help out of sheer desperation, because there's nothing else I can do to make my own and many other nations of people see. We're losing so many Vegeta, and to the same ones that kept both of us in bondage for so long. Do you want that, for others to be in bondage as you were, to become what you were? Please, help us.'
'I don't regret what I was...' Vegeta said quietly, much more quietly than before. The doctor picked up the slightest hint of doubt in the utterance and pounced on it.
'But there are things you would have changed, surely. Like to have had the ability to control your own destiny, to have chosen freely who you wanted to be rather than have someone else mold you into what they needed in accordance with their own agenda? Surely everyone longs for freedom. Is it not the one thing so many men have died for, that they continue to die for?'
Vegeta gave no answer or argument with which to combat this, choosing instead to stare off into the distance as though he hadn't heard these pressing questions at all, though the doctor could tell from the troubled look in his eyes that he had. There was mostly distance there in his gaze, as though one might have to cross oceans and forests to find him where he was although he stood only meters away, but there was a little nostalgic sadness there too. It was faint but the doctor always knew what he was seeing when he searched the landscape of a person's face for emotion; the subtle furrows of the brow, movements of the jaw, the flickering of the eyes, all those little things that betrayed the secrecy of the inner world. A glimmer of hope dared to find its way into his heart.
'Tell me, if I were to help you, would it anger these people? How soon do you think it would be before they got wind of it?'
'If you're worried about endangering the earth, I have to admit there is a small chance... because they have got their eye on me. They want me dead, and anyone who associates with me. This I won't lie about. But- '
'So they might actually find their way here?'
'Well... I don't imagine it would be easy for them, but their technology is well advanced compared to that of this planet. It might take less time for them to get to you-'
'Than for me to get to them. Precisely. I'd prefer to meet them head on and fight them than try this ridiculous idea of yours, but if it truly isn't possible because it would take as long as you say to get to them, then perhaps your method may be necessary to incite them into coming here. I don't remember them being anything special but if they've truly become as strong as you say they'd be an excellent challenge...'
'Are you mad? Why on earth would you want to fight them? Have you heard nothing I've said?' The doctor cried in exasperation, earning him a deep chuckle from the headstrong prince.
'You say you know me well, but I've got to question that claim when you go asking silly questions like that. I am the prince of all saiyans, I fear no one and I live to fight... and since that clown Kakarrott's gone and pulled another one of his famous disappearing acts there's not a single decent challenge on this planet,' his words were laced with regret as he added this last part. The doctor could only shake his head in wonder.
'Id ask my wife to help me find a more efficient means of getting to these people, but unfortunately she has her own commitments.'
This was only partly true. There were other reasons she was unlikely to help, the main one being that helping him get to the other side of the universe wasn't going to help her sought out this (imagined) mental illness of his. Which brought him back to the question of what on earth was wrong with that impossible woman? Rather than continuing in her old pattern of getting frustrated and giving up on whatever ridiculous thing she was harping on about, she now got more and more determined with the passing of each confrontation. Often she'd let it rest a few weeks, perhaps a month until she found just the right moment to start the same argument again. As much as the thought made him shudder, it might as well have been Kakarrott's banshee screeching in his ear. Any wonder the man kept finding excuses to take his years long holidays from life-as-we-know-it.
He had many speculations as to what had caused the emergence of Bulma's intolerable behaviour- middle age, frustration with the endless pressure of her position in capsule corp, made much more demanding now Dr Brief's advancing age had slowed him down, trying to quit her damned cigarettes... Trunks. The boy was getting terribly irresponsible lately although Vegeta wasn't entirely sure what he was doing (other than grossly neglecting his training) that was so irresponsible, but Bulma apparently knew, she was always going on about it. 'He doesn't study, he stays up too late, he skips school', 'He's useless with business, how's he going take on this company, I can't do this forever I'm too old for this', 'I never see him with the same girl twice, I'll never be a grandmother!' and on and on and on with her foolish human concerns and how he wasn't doing enough to fix them. Yes it was true the boy would need to work on his business skills as it was crucial to fulfilling his duty- to take over capsule corps as its heir. This much Vegeta understood, but little else. Humans had so many superficial concerns; they knew deep down how simplistic they truly were so they went out of their way to make everything everything else very complicated as a way of compensating, something he'd decided on a short while ago.
Even if he were able to sympathise with her concerns, how could he go about the disciplinary action she was demanding he take? 'You never discipline him', 'He's more likely to listen to you, you're the man', 'You just don't care do you?' 'Why can't you have a talk with him?' A talk about what? What did he know of correcting a youth's behaviour, especially when it made no sense to him why it needed to be corrected in the first place? Living on his own planet, the concept of discipline had been fairly foreign to him. No one needed to put him in line for he knew full well what was expected of him and carried out his duties without complaint, enjoyed them in fact. Besides they'd been a relatively lawless breed and those of his status, being the strongest, had absolute free reign and power over everyone else. The only real examples of discipline he witnessed (and experienced) had been on Frieza's ship and it hadn't done him or anybody else the slightest bit of good, serving only to make him hate everyone and anything that existed in his old life. He certainly was not going to reenact those things with his son just to force him to meet some petty social standard.
That was another thing about humans that puzzled him to no end- their expectations. They had the most bizarre social conventions, dictated both by traditions and the omnipotent, twisted force they called the media. What you should enjoy, what you should look like, what you should learn, what to approve of, who to date and how to do it, who to marry, how many kids to have, how to act, who to be... the list could go on for an eternity and still not be finished. What's more most people didn't follow these standards but they all pretended as if they did and made a big fuss when someone deviated too far from whatever was expected of them. The complete irony of it all was the enormous emphasis they placed on individuality and autonomy, on 'being yourself'. How the hell was anyone supposed to know what was expected of them with such blatant, blaring mixed messages being screamed at them every moment of their lives? Where he'd come from, everyone knew what was expected of them, they were warriors! Nobody gave a fuck about finding an identity, they were born with one! But here you had to go on some revolutionary quest for self discovery whilst simultaneously trying to be like everyone else. It could just about make his brain explode it was so illogical. Humans were so illogical!
'Is that the only reason your doing this, to attract a challenge?' The doctor, who was apparently still there, had finally broken into his exasperated thoughts. How long had he fazed out for?
'That. And it will piss my wife off.'
'I see. An interesting source of motivation, to say the least...'
'What do you see? You come here seeking my help, and as soon as it looks like your getting it you can't decide whether you want it anymore? Better make up your mind man! I deal with enough ambivalence, ambiguity and downright idiocy just living on this planet and I'm about fed up-'
'Done!'
'What's done?'
'I mean... it's done. I accept your help. You don't know how much this will mean to so many people Vegeta. I'll be eternally greatful-'
'Save your gratitude,' he cut in, that notorious smirk settling itself over his features. 'I've got things to tell you you'll wish you never heard.'
'Well,' came the confident reply, 'we'll see about that. I hope I'll see you again here, at the same time tomorrow. That is of course if you're not otherwise engaged.' A smile, almost like a challenge, accompanied these last words, then as fast as he'd appeared the doctor was gone.
***
Five hours gone and still Bulma awaited his return. She had not moved once from the place on the bed where she sat, with arms crossed and lips set in a firm angry line (a habit she'd picked up from none other than Vegeta himself), and neither would she till that face appeared in the window. This wasn't finished, not by a long shot. The thing that baffled her most, that she was forever questioning during these increasingly frequent arguments was this- how could a man so strong and so brave in the face of life threatening challenges be so weak when it came to the simple task of discussing his own emotions? 'You boys are killing me', she mused, laughing sadly to herself with face in hands and weak smile curling the corners of dry lips even as tears gathered in her eyes. This was stupid sitting up like this, no, it was beyond stupid. There'd been well enough screaming for one night, and anyway it was impossible to sit here a moment longer because she really had to pee.
After going to the toilet and throwing on a bed shirt, she fell into bed where the plush mattress and silk sheets practically consumed her. Just as she drifted off to sleep, her words from earlier surfaced to consciousness with a vengeance.
This isn't over...
***
This isn't over...
It had been five nights since this thought had first passed through her mind just as it was now, five nights and no sign of him. If only she'd kept her mouth shut! But no, he had to hear it, and this wasn't the longest he's been gone anyway. He'd be back.
'Mummy?' came a small, cracked voice from her bedroom door. It was Bra, standing there holding half a barbie doll by its tangled blonde hair. The doll ended at the middle of its torso. Jesus, how had she snapped it? She must of split the hard plastic with her bare hands!
'What have you done to your doll honey?'
'I broked it cause I'm really strong. I'm gunna show daddy how strong I am,' came the reply, sounding both excited and sad at the same time.
'Well he's gunna be real proud of you Bra, did you know that?' Bulma replied, getting up out of bed and walking over to take Bra in her arms.
'But where'd daddy go?'
'You know honey. Remember I told you how sometimes when daddy isn't feeling well he has to go to the doctor for a little while till he feels better again?'
'How come you're crying mummy?'
'I'm not, I just... I just want daddy to get better like you do...'
'Don't worry, he'll get better. And then I show him how strong I am, an then he'll be real happy, an then he'll never get sick again,' the little girl said with a sparkle in her deep blue eyes and a huge smile.
'Yeah honey,' Bulma replied enthusiastically, wiping away a tear as she tried to match her daughter's smile, 'you're right.'
***

Willbe back or not? Andkind of trouble will his decision to delve into his pastfor his family, the earth, and his sanity? Guess you'll have to read on and find out.let me know what you thought, whether you find the concept for the story interesting, and whether you think~in-character.itmight find this story disturbing. You've been warned.
let me know what you thought, whether you find the concept for the story interesting, and whether you think~in-character. Its nice getting feedback to know whether anyone's reading and if its worth continuing.