Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Red Window ❯ Reversion ( Chapter 9 )

Note: Hello, anyone who reads this story! I was hoping that at this point I could persuade you to leave a very brief comment after reading this chapter. I just want to know how many people are actually reading this.

 

Doesn't have to be anything meaningful, maybe just a, “Hey! I'm reading your story! Write faster!” (Or, on the other side of the coin, “Hey! I hate your story! Don't ask why I'm still reading it!”)

 

Thanks—I appreciate it more than you could know!

 

I'm not usually one for pre-chapter/post-chapter notes, so I'll probably leave you alone for a while, unless I have good reason not to.

 

Now, on with the chapter!

 

---

 

 

 

“Do you really think it's necessary?” Bulma glanced toward Piccolo.

 

He seemed to shrug. “I doubt it, but it never hurts to be prepared. Just in case there's a reason this is taking Son so long…”

 

“Have you felt anything of him?” Bulma questioned. “Like if he's any closer to New Namek?”

 

“He's so distant; to determine his distance or small changes in position is nearly impossible, even for me.” Piccolo drew in a breath and closed his eyes as he seemed to seek the man out. His brows furrowed. “Son's power was elevated earlier, but it's disappeared again. Perhaps he's moved so far away that I can't find him anymore…”

 

“As long as that chick hasn't killed him,” Bulma crossed her arms, huffing.

 

“I doubt it.”

 

“Fu…sion…HA!” A bright light burst forth and Bulma was nearly whipped back against the wall as Trunks and Goten merged into Gotenks.

 

“Yeah!” the boy grinned, pumping a fist in the air. “Still got it!”

 

“Okay,” Piccolo stepped toward him. “Good. But can you still ascend to the third level?” As he finished speaking, he almost regretted saying it. Power burst forth from Gotenks at such a rate that Piccolo had to leap to grab Bulma and Dende from being blown off the platform.

 

 

---

 

“There it is!” she knitted her brows and focused, too concerned to so much as smirk over her good fortune. Leaving the ship to rocket through space empty, she disappeared.

 

 

---

 

 

“Yeah,” Gotenks grinned. “More powerful than ever!” Sparks danced around his elongated hair and he threw a few punches through the air. He continued with a volley of kicks, until one landed solidly against something else. “What?” he blinked. The object had gone soaring off across the sky, and Piccolo swore to himself, bursting off the platform to catch it.

 

“What was that?” Bulma blinked. “I didn't see a thing…I thought I heard something though.”

 

Gotenks scratched his head. “Probably just a stupid bird.”

 

“You mean you didn't see it?”

 

“Well…no,” he admitted. As he glanced off in Piccolo's direction, he shrugged, and dissolved back into Trunks and Goten.

 

“I thought that was supposed to last half an hour?” Bulma blinked.

 

“Oh, we were powered up really really high,” Goten explained.

 

“Yeah, it kind of sucks up the fusion when we're level three, especially when we're pushing it so much,” Trunks clarified.

 

Bulma nodded, but she was distracted by Piccolo's returning form. He seemed to have something dangling under one arm. He shot a glare at Trunks and Goten.

 

“I-it was a person?” Goten stuttered.

 

“Dad?” Trunks stepped forward, trying to examine the body.

 

“No,” Piccolo set it down. “Your father is most definitely dead, even if we can't find him.”

 

“Oh. It's her,” he noticed with closer inspection.

 

“How did she get here?” Bulma asked, too fazed to be angry to see her.

 

“Did Son teleport them back?” Piccolo wondered aloud. “I don't feel his presence.” He glanced back at the woman's unconscious form. “If you hadn't knocked her out, we could ask her!” he snapped at the boys, who scratched their heads guiltily in unison.

 

“I-I can heal her,” Dende suggested. “I think she will come to if I do that.”

 

Finally, as Piccolo nodded and glanced toward Bulma to gauge her reaction, Bulma seemed to realize just who was before her. “Murderer!” she screamed at the body, and gave it a good kick before crossing her arms and blowing a raspberry as she moved to make room for Dende. “Joke's on you! We're going to get Vegeta back anyway!”

 

“Nn,” the woman groaned as Dende's healing light enveloped her. As the young Namekian pulled his hands back, she sat up. “The hell was that?”

 

“Um, we kicked you,” Goten answered cautiously. “S-sorry.”

 

“I'm glad,” Trunks crossed his arms, closing his eyes and pointing his nose up. “You deserve it, for what you did to my dad.”

 

She slowly stood, and balled her fists, growling in frustration. “I can't believe it…”

 

“Hey!” Piccolo demanded her attention. “Where's Son Goku?”

 

Her eyes shut tightly. “Dead.”

 

He let loose a roar, shooting his arm out to grasp her throat. “What did you do to him?”

 

“Nothing,” she struggled against Piccolo, to no avail.

 

“What happened to him? What are you doing here?”

 

“I…need…” she rasped out, but for the tight grip around her she could hardly speak. Piccolo released her, but his gaze remained sharp and watchful, daring her to do anything dangerous. She took in a few deep breaths and glanced to the ground. “Kakarrot and Vegeta. We need to wish them back. Now. But I don't know anything about these dragon balls but that they are found on a place called New Namek.” She glanced up toward Piccolo. “And if I'm not mistaken…you are a Namekian?”

 

He frowned. “Just because I'm Namekian doesn't mean I can get you to New Namek. And,” his voice shifted to an accusatory tone, “I know why we need to wish back Son Goku and Vegeta. But why do you?” Piccolo narrowed his eyes. “We know you killed Vegeta. For all we know, you killed Son too.”

 

“Didn't get the chance,” she replied, once more glancing down. Her voice was tinged with regret, although even she didn't know if it was regret that she hadn't killed him, or that she hadn't really wanted to.

 

“Was it a bad guy?” Goten suggested. “Was my dad fighting a bad guy?”

 

She inclined her head toward the child. “Yes. Someone who has been destroying many planets, including my own.” She stopped briefly, imagining her world—figuratively and literally—as it burst into dust. “You are Kakarrot's son?”

 

Goten nodded. “Yeah, and that's Trunks. His dad is Mister Vegeta, y'know, the guy you look like. Oh yeah, and I have a big brother, Gohan. Hey! We don't even know your name.”

 

“My name is Vegeta,” she stated simply, and then, after some hesitation, added, “Kakarrot has been referring to me as `Vejata'—to differentiate between Prince Vegeta and myself, to reduce confusion in conversation.”

 

Finally, Bulma spoke. “We can take care of wishing back Goku and Vegeta ourselves,” her voice was icy. “Leave.”

 

“You don't understand,” and Vejata's reply was equally icy. “You don't know what you're facing.” She paced up to Bulma, looking her squarely in the eye, challenging her to protest. “I tried to stop Kakarrot. I told him that we needed to wish Vegeta back first. He didn't listen. Now he's dead.”

 

“You knew that you needed Vegeta as well even before Son died?” Piccolo quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Yes.”

 

“You are familiar with this foe?”

She glanced down at her hands. “Yes and no.”

 

 

---

 

“You too?”

 

Goku grinned. “Vegeta! I knew Enma would let you wait here!”

 

“Well, it's been boring as hell. What's going on? Did that bitch kill you too?”

 

“I'll tell you all about it, but just a second.” Goku leapt up on to Enma's desk. “Hey! Lord Enma! You remember me, right?” he winked.

 

“Son Goku, what are you doing dead again?”

 

“Well, thassa thing, I need to show Vegeta what we're up against! I know we're gonna get wished back, but…”

 

“Don't tell me the universe is in danger again.” He rolled his eyes. “All right, Son. I'm hesitant about letting Vegeta into Heaven—it'd set a dangerous precedent, you know—but as you're aware there's a viewing screen to the living world in Hell that I might be willing to fire up for just such an occasion. You'll have to go with him. You don't mind, do you?”

 

“Hangin' out in Hell? Nah! It could even be fun!”

 

He rolled his eyes. “Well, you know the way. If you can vouch for Vegeta, I'll let him keep his body for now.”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Goku nodded vigorously. “He hasn't done anything bad for a really long time.”

 

Enma nodded, but as he glanced over his papers, he lowered his eyebrows in confusion. “This says that not too long ago Vegeta killed…Vegeta…wait…” he scratched his head.

 

“Oh, that was Vegeta's clone; she was the one who killed Vegeta here,” Goku explained.

 

“It also says that Vegeta wiped out a number of planets…several years ago…”

 

“That was probably her too…”

 

“As well as a fair few within the past two days.”

 

Goku's eyes widened, and a realization seemed to strike him over the head. “Oh. …Oh.”

 

 

---

 

 

Vejata glanced back up, first toward Piccolo, and then to Bulma. She fixed her eyes on Bulma and asked through gritted teeth, “You are a scientist, are you not?”

 

Bulma nodded, tilting her chin upward confidently.

 

“Good,” she responded, though she sounded none too happy, “…between you and the Namekian, we may be able to devise a solution.” She breathed in deeply, biding time as she thought. “I do not believe this foe can be defeated by conventional means.”

 

“We're really good at beating up bad guys,” Goten pointed out, tugging at Vejata's pants leg. She brushed him away, and he pouted. “I promise, we are.” Trunks nodded vigorously.

 

“Where did that warrior go, who hit me as I appeared?” Vejata directed her question toward Piccolo. “Surely it was neither of these boys?”

 

“It was!” Trunks seemed offended. “It was us! We fused!”

 

“Yeah, with this special dance!”

 

“It…makes two people into one warrior?” she guessed, incredulous.

 

“Yes. Son learned it in the afterlife,” Piccolo explained. “But Goten, Trunks—if what she says is true, this thing defeated Son. You may be very near him in strength, but since neither of you has the kind of fighting experience he has, Gotenks would be of little use.” He turned back to Vejata. “But still I am not sure if we should believe you. Tell us more about this…villain.”

 

 

 

---

 

 

“And then, I felt this huge power!” Goku grinned as he and Vegeta paced out the door, toward Snake Way. “It was really exciting. Vejata said I shouldn't go, seemed like she knew something. But hey! I figured she didn't really know how strong I am, not really, y'know?” Vegeta nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, but Goku continued, “So I just teleported over there! And I thought, wow, this guy looks really familiar!” He seemed thoughtful and scratched his chin as they paced down the pathway. “I guess I figured out why now. I bet that's what she was tryin' to tell me. Anyway, I just knew he was the guy who blew up the planet…an' he didn't seem the least bit sorry about it, and I was so happy `cause he seemed really strong…so we just started fighting! I was gonna beat `im, too. But then five more things came at me…” he paused. “I really didn't get a good look at `em, before they did me in. But they all felt the same. Just the same as the first one!”

 

“Who was it?” Vegeta finally managed to speak. They leapt off the pathway, down into the depths of Hell.

 

“Get this—it was six of you!”

 

 

---

 

 

“I have no doubt that they are improved versions,” Vejata finished. “The being that cloned me must have continued its work long after the Saiyajin left—it knew it would always be under attack by someone, and what a perfect defense. I suspect…that these clones destroyed the planet housing this being once they became bored, too powerful for their own good.”

 

“Genetically modified for perfection…” Bulma muttered.

 

“The being must have unlocked their powers in any way it could. I noticed, however, that the one Kakarrot was fighting did not ascend to the third level.”

 

“We'll just wish Goku and Vegeta back, and tell them to fuse!” Bulma seemed confident. Piccolo nodded.

 

“Likely on our way we will need to pass through their territory,” Vejata seemed worried. “I cannot teleport to New Namek, since I've not met anyone there. We'll need to take a ship.”

 

“What happened to the one you took before?” Bulma frowned.

 

“I abandoned it, to get here faster,” Vejata challenged Bulma to protest against her actions. “I assume you have more.”

 

“Not just ready and waiting!” Bulma fumed. “Moron! They need to be stocked, checked…”

 

Vejata shot her a glare. “Well then, you'd best get to work.”

 

“You're not giving the orders around here!” Bulma prodded her, forefinger nudging Vejata's breastplate at every syllable. “You'd better figure out a way to get around these freaks so we can get to the dragon balls!” she spat, turning on her heel. “Trunks! Goten! Take me back home!”

 

“Not so fast,” Piccolo stepped in front of her. “We need to take a couple of important precautionary measures.”

 

“Oh?” the anger lingered in her voice, although it was clear that all the frustration was still directed toward Vejata.

 

“If we encounter these beings on our way through space, I think we can count on Gotenks to provide substantial defense,” Piccolo started, and Trunks and Goten grinned proudly. “But if we plan on blazing ahead of Gotenks while he fends them off, he will need a way to reach us again. Vejata, you will need to teach these boys the Instantaneous Movement technique.”

 

“I'm…I'm not sure I can,” Vejata glanced to the side guilty. “I've only just learned how to sense ki. The move that I use is one that I was born with, so far as I know.”

 

“Teach them what you can,” was all Piccolo could say.

 

“My daddy tried telling me about it,” Goten volunteered. “Maybe if I can remember his advice, it would help?”

Piccolo smirked. “Yes. Perfect. But Trunks, Goten—you need to teach a technique as well.” At this, Goten and Trunks seemed to perk up, and Vejata quirked an eyebrow. Bulma crossed her arms impatiently. “Vejata needs to learn the fusion dance.”

 

The Saiyajin gaped at the Namekian. “You mean for me to fuse with one of these boys? But why?”

 

“No, no—you couldn't do that anyway; your body types are likely too different,” Piccolo shook his head, and turned his gaze to Bulma. “If something goes wrong with the ship—which, if I'm not mistaken, no one knows more about than you—we need someone who can take a physical blow and remain well enough to assess damage and make repairs, in case something happens in battle.” His teeth gleamed as he grinned at his brilliance. “Vejata and Bulma will learn to fuse.”

 

The two glared at each other murderously.

 

Trunks and Goten exchanged glances and gulped.