Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Red Window ❯ Overpowered ( Chapter 4 )

Their eyes remained locked and their mouths shut for seconds or minutes—how hot their skin sizzled under the sun the only marker for time as each waited: one in fear, afraid to move, afraid to speak; the other in rage, content to bury his boot into her gut as long as he pleased, maybe until she cried.

 

“Y-you won't kill me,” the woman finally stuttered, and the quiver in her voice only served to make her more fearful. She added with marginally more conviction, “I've met your type before.”

 

A blinding flare blazed across the horizon, a signal to prove her wrong. Now above her Goku's hair had lengthened, his brows tucked beneath ridges, making him more monster than man. She gasped as the pressure against her stomach increased exponentially, in what must have seemed only a slight shift of weight for Goku. As he waited, silent, in this position, her breathing became quicker under the pressure.

 

“Don't make me do to you what I did to the last guy who made me watch one of my friends die,” Goku breathed, his words scarcely more than articulated growling. His own chest was heaving, under strain not to press his foot farther in, under strain not to scream out a kiai that would tear through her flesh.

 

Her silence was a fearful compliance, and after a moment more Goku returned to his base state. Slowly and deliberately, with his eyes fixed on hers, he lifted his foot from her. She remained still in that position, watching carefully as the man shifted his attention to other matters. Goku turned with almost visible dread to Vegeta, the violent scene that spelled out every detail of his death but the woman's expression as she had performed the act. With little more than a twitch of his eyebrow, Goku blasted a hole into the ground. “I never thought I'd have to bury you like this twice, Vegeta,” he murmured, picking up the prince's body. He gently supported the head as it threatened to tumble from the body. “Don't worry. We'll get you back soon and we can sort all this out.”

 

The woman followed Goku's hands as they laid Vegeta inside the hole and then slowly and ceremoniously covered him with soil. She had never before witnessed such a ritual. Just under her throat she was screaming, screaming to make him do it the proper way, screaming about if she was ever disposed of like that… But the quiet respect with which he performed the task suggested that this must have some meaning. She was struck by the deep care this Kakarrot appeared to show for Vegeta; in the limited interaction she had seen, they seemed little more than casual sparring partners, and this man had clearly annoyed Vegeta. If they were the only two Saiyajin on this planet, she supposed, they would likely be forced to spar together no matter how much they hated each other.

 

As Goku finished, he paused for a few moments, closing his eyes, and then he stood up and straightened his back. He seemed hesitant to turn and face the murderer again, and after a few moments she finally spoke. “Who…who was the last…to…”

 

“To kill one of my friends?” Goku responded, his voice harsh, as he still faced away. “Or to kill Vegeta, the first time I buried him?” He paused. “The same person: Freeza.”

 

“I thought Vegeta was the one who…”

 

“No.” He seemed to regard the recently disturbed soil one last time before whispering, “I'm sorry I was too late, Vegeta. I didn't know…” Finally, he turned around, and his eyes spelled out without question that he was still thinking about ways to make her suffer. “Tell me. Why?”

 

“It's…complicated,” she edged out. Goku noticed that while her fear of him shone through, her face showed no hint of remorse or regret, no sorrow, no apology. Standing up, she breathed deeply. “Well, are you going to kill me? Kakarrot?”

 

Goku shivered at hearing the name from another's mouth, but his eyes remained steel. “No. Vegeta didn't, and I also have my reasons.”

 

She didn't ask, didn't want to know, shook at the thought of what wrath this godlike man could wreak upon her. “Very well. I have no other business here, but I suppose it's fruitless for me to ask to leave.”

 

“No,” Goku barked sharply. “You may not leave. And you do have other business here. That man you just killed has a family. They'll expect to know a reason for his absence.” And she knew that she had no choice in the matter; she would be the one to tell them what she had done, or this man would keep her here until her death. “Now, you never told me your name,” his voice had softened substantially, and she was taken aback by this apparent indifference to the past few minutes. “Or how you're related to Vegeta.”

 

The woman inhaled deeply. “I am copied from Vegeta's genetics.”

 

Goku seemed to mull this over. “Okay…so your name?”

 

“Vegeta. Naturally.”

 

This response seemed to affect Goku at some deeper level, and his breath shook for a split-second. “All right. Well, this Vegeta is the only Vegeta I know,” he asserted, once more nodding toward the heap of soil. “I'm going to call you something else. Hm,” he furrowed his brows in thought, “something like Vegeta, because you do look a lot like him…but kind of different…oh, I know! How about Vejata?” He phrased it as a question, but it was clear that he had made up his mind.

 

“I—” her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “No! My name is Vegeta!”

 

“Well, I'm calling you Vejata.”

 

She could not believe his insolence—to her, of all people! Didn't he realize who she was? “No!”

 

“Well, you keep calling me Kakarrot. But I call myself Son Goku.”

 

“Nonsense. You are a Saiyajin. You should keep a Saiyajin name!”

 

“I may be a Saiyajin, but I was raised here on Earth.”

 

“Why? Why are you here?” Her knowledge of the past was by no means modest, but it was limited. Why would the Saiyajin have sent a child to be raised on another planet? Unless…

 

“Well,” Goku seemed to reflect for a moment. “Well, I was supposed to kill off everyone here. But, I bumped my head and forgot all that, and, well, I grew up here and made friends and everything just like anyone else. I even have a family!”

 

“You…mated with one of them?”

 

“Er, yeah,” he laughed uncomfortably. “I mean—I guess we're more or less the same, y'know, physically. Anyway, I have a wife and two sons, see, and Vegeta's got a son and, well, I guess Bulma's not really his wife, but…” he trailed off.

 

“Half-breeds,” her nose crinkled. “In the royal line, even.”

 

Goku nearly grinned. “Say what you will, they're stronger than you are!”

 

Vejata grimaced, already in disbelief that this was the same man who had first nearly killed her, then quietly buried his comrade. She resolved to shut up, hoping that Goku would follow her example.

 

“Anyway,” and Goku's voice darkened again, “it's time you go tell Bulma and Trunks what you've done. Then we can leave to bring Vegeta back.”

 

“Bring…back?” she had to speak.

 

“Sure, with the dragon balls! `Course, I could just teleport us there. But,” he paused, “you need some time to set things straight first. So we're going to take a ship.”

“No,” she shook her head. “No, no, I just killed him! He can't come back. I don't know what kind of bullshit you're making up, but he's dead. You saw him.”

 

“Didn't you hear me?” Goku nearly roared, his hair standing on end at the realization that she wasn't speaking out of disbelief—she simply wanted him dead. “Freeza killed him once before! How do you think he stands…stood before you today?”

 

“I…”

 

“He died again, too, one other time. He gave up his life trying to save his loved ones from Buu.” Goku struggled to slow his breaths, to calm down. “You think you're just like him? Just as good as him?” Goku paused. “If killing you was the only thing I could do to bring him back, I would.” There was no hesitation. “He's changed a lot.” Goku considered the woman before him. “You could, too. But…” his mouth twitched, “you could never replace Vegeta.”

 

For a moment, Goku was sure he had misspoken, for Vejata's eyes hazed over unexpectedly. But by the time he opened his mouth to clarify himself, she had returned to her normal state.

 

“Where is that medallion he stole from me?” she spoke, eventually. “I will need it before I return home.”

 

“Wasn't he wearing it?” Goku had noted the presence of the object around Vegeta's neck one previous time they had crossed paths recently, but hadn't asked.

 

“No. I would have noticed when I killed him.”

 

Goku's stomach heaved in disbelief that she could speak with such a lack of respect or sentiment. If she's copied from Vegeta, shouldn't she care about him? A little bit? “Why did they copy Vegeta?” he blurted.

 

“Haven't you asked enough of me for today? If you visit my home, maybe you will understand.”

 

“Why? What's your home?”

 

“I doubt you know it. New Vegeta.”

 

“N-New…are there more Saiyajin?”

 

She raised her eyebrows to display her incredulousness, a silent motion pointing to herself.

 

“Oh…yeah. Whoa! Let's go!”

 

“The medallion,” she insisted.

 

“I'll bet it's in his and Bulma's room,” Goku guessed. He disappeared, and in seconds was back with it. “This thing?” It dangled from his fingers before her.

 

“Don't touch it!” she shrieked, snatching it from him and fixing it around her neck. “Dammit…”

 

“So…that's all you need?”

 

She frowned, confused. “Yes, but…” Before she could speak any further, Goku had grabbed her shoulder, and moments later were standing before Bulma.

 

“Hey Bulma! Borrowing a ship!” Goku shouted, already sprinting down the hallway. “Come on, Vejata!”

 

With one quick glance toward Bulma, the Saiyajin took off after Goku.

 

“G-Goku…?” Bulma called down the hallway. But she heard the roaring of one of the space ships she and her father had designed as it burst into the sky, and slumped against the wall. Well, at least that asshole chick is leaving. I wonder if Vegeta knows…