Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Son Goku in Summation ❯ Victory At Last ( Chapter 2 )
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By: projectsynapse 
Vegeta's thoughts.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.26.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 383 | Status: Work In Progress
Vegeta's thoughts.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Psychological | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 08.26.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.7K | Visits: 383 | Status: Work In Progress
It’s hard not to hate a man who knows your deepest secrets. Generally, it’s hard not to hate yourself when you remember all the mistakes you’ve made. All the lies you’ve told; the secrets you’ve kept…
the children you’ve killed…
But it’s quite easily dealt with. For some time, at least. One of the most difficult transitions between childhood and adulthood involves looking yourself in the mirror and for the first time, ignoring the man behind your eyes and learning to regard yourself only on a skin-deep level. After all, it’s true what they say. Beauty is only skin-deep. It’s a wise Earthling saying; If people were judged for what lies beneath the skin, we would only be referring to one another based on varying degrees of ugliness.
But I digress. Essentially, it’s hard to approve of the person you’ve become when no one else does. I was the prince of a dead race. A royal fool. I lived for honor and bloodshed, and more often than not the two were intertwined. Ironically, it wasn’t until I was dying that my life came to its most defining crossroads. I was forced to choose which was more important to me; my own Saiyan pride, or the pride of the Saiyan race.
And so, as I made the choice to articulate my deepest emotions toward Kakarot, effectively ending my life-long passion for protecting my inner feelings, I cried. No one, including him, would ever know that it was the first time I had cried in front of another person in my life. Fitting that it should be a means of manipulation. Granted, the manipulation was for the greater good and my feelings were true, but still…it was a means for me to influence the fight in any way that I could more than it ever was a release of my own self-pity or an expression of the pain I was feeling.
Years of deep loathing and frustration that only a slave can understand were poured out onto the battlefield, all in an effort to influence the last remaining member of my race. I still wonder today if my father would be overwhelmed with pride or shame at my final moments there on the alien planet.
Then again, it’s hard to decide which one I myself feel about it. After all, the prince of a warrior race should be regarded as ruthless and cunning and nothing more nor less. But ruthlessness includes doing whatever is necessary to win a battle. And on that day, I won a battle for my race. Or more specifically, Kakarot won a battle for his races. It was the true beginning of my hatred for him.
It is difficult to explain the feelings I had toward the man who buried me. When I arrived on Earth shortly after learning that he had achieved what I had spent my whole life striving for, it was hard for me to decide whether I was overjoyed at the imminent defeat of Frieza or engulfed in the infuriating knowledge that I had died at his hands nonetheless. It was obvious to everyone why I immediately decided to pick a fight with his brat. After all, the child was the only member of our species whom I could still beat in combat. It was irrelevant to me that he was a half-breed at that moment. What was more important was his relation to Kakarot.
I wanted his son to hate me. I wanted him to feel the same futility; the same vain hatred that I had suffered through as a young warrior. At that time, there was nothing more significant than making Gohan feel about his father the same way that I had about mine. Only…he couldn’t. Because Kakarot was nothing like my father. At the end of the battle, we all knew that he would return victorious. But my father…well, he would never return at all. I was jealous - insanely so - that my father would never receive the same hero’s welcome that Kakarot had.
To this day, I don’t know if I can fully understand why I didn’t instead love Kakarot. By all rights, he should have replaced my father and been embraced into our race by me, the only other member. I know why I hated him. I know the factors that led to it, and I know myself well enough. But I just don’t understand why all of his friends loved him, and yet I, a member of his own race, could not bring myself to do the same. I am his prince, after all. Why could I not be satisfied with ruling the strongest fighter in the universe? Why did I have to become him?
Perhaps I could blame my upbringing. Being a preteen in one of the most elite fighting squadrons in the universe tends to burden one with a bit of an ego. And being a prince didn’t help, I suppose. I was entitled…no, encouraged to be arrogant. Perhaps it was the fact that Kakarot should have been arrogant, and yet for reasons I could not understand, he wasn’t. Maybe that was what I hated about him. At the time, I was too blinded by rage to fully understand it, so now, years later, I honestly cannot comprehend fully what I was feeling then.
What I do know well are what my feelings are toward the man now. They have changed much over the years, and finally have settled into a definitive emotion. As illogical as it may sound, I feel victorious. And to some degree, I feel relieved. It took me years to get there, but I finally came to terms with his power being much greater than my own. For that, I am thankful. But more than anything, yes, I feel quite victorious over Kakarot.
There is a simple reason behind it, as well. I know when to quit. I know when to finally give up. It may have taken me much longer than the average person to do it, but the average person doesn’t have royal Saiyan blood. But finally, after years of tormenting myself…I knew when to quit. And it wasn’t a moment too soon. Because I came to terms with my past and my status, my present did not have the opportunity to slip away from me.
I am now the father of two beautiful children, and I have performed the Earthlings’ ceremony of bondage with a woman whom I can with some certainty consider to be the most attractive, the most caring, and the most entertaining one I have ever met. I live in a house with them. I eat meals with them. I train my son, and I protect my daughter. I have even attended ballet recitals (an experience I wouldn’t recommend to anyone, save my worst enemy). My children have grown strong and if nothing else, they know that they can rely on their father.
The point I illustrate here is that, unfortunately, Kakarot’s offspring can not say the same concerning theirs. Yes, he surpassed me on the battlefield. But at what cost did this come to him? Yes, he was blessed with a family who cares about him and a life without much worry outside of the arena. But in order to protect them, he has taken himself away from them at every turn.
When Uub appeared, it had been years since any one of us had done any serious training. Upkeep, of course, but not much improvement was made. So when Goku pointed the boy out to me, I was more than surprised. I had all but forgotten the story he had told me about the reincarnation. In fact, I had made a point to do so, since I hadn’t taken it seriously in the least. But here he was, standing before me. I should have known by then not to underestimate Kakarot in anything he did.
However, when he came to say goodbye and told his family that he was leaving, I can not say that I was surprised. It was completely within his nature, but at the moment it was surreal. I had known that Kakarot was hoping for his son to surpass him and become the Earth’s protector, but since his plan had fallen through, he had been looking for a replacement.
He would have his family believe that this was the end of it. He would have them think that they were the only thing on his mind, and his training was only out of love and protection. But when he left with the reincarnated boy, I could see his Saiyan side coming into play. He lusted for bloodshed, and it had been too long for him since he had had any real sparring challenges. When he left that day, it was to train someone to take his place, yes, but it was also a means to escape the trap that every day life had enclosed him in and return to old feelings of thrill in battle.
I lost one family. Once I learned to put all other desires aside, I knew that I could not make the same mistake with my new one. Kakarot, however, seemed to never have learned this lesson. He would always put his own desires before that of his family’s and for that he will always remain a child. Therefore, he may be the strongest warrior in existence, but he will always be a clown to me. And that is why I, the Prince of all Saiyans, will forever remain victorious.
the children you’ve killed…
But it’s quite easily dealt with. For some time, at least. One of the most difficult transitions between childhood and adulthood involves looking yourself in the mirror and for the first time, ignoring the man behind your eyes and learning to regard yourself only on a skin-deep level. After all, it’s true what they say. Beauty is only skin-deep. It’s a wise Earthling saying; If people were judged for what lies beneath the skin, we would only be referring to one another based on varying degrees of ugliness.
But I digress. Essentially, it’s hard to approve of the person you’ve become when no one else does. I was the prince of a dead race. A royal fool. I lived for honor and bloodshed, and more often than not the two were intertwined. Ironically, it wasn’t until I was dying that my life came to its most defining crossroads. I was forced to choose which was more important to me; my own Saiyan pride, or the pride of the Saiyan race.
And so, as I made the choice to articulate my deepest emotions toward Kakarot, effectively ending my life-long passion for protecting my inner feelings, I cried. No one, including him, would ever know that it was the first time I had cried in front of another person in my life. Fitting that it should be a means of manipulation. Granted, the manipulation was for the greater good and my feelings were true, but still…it was a means for me to influence the fight in any way that I could more than it ever was a release of my own self-pity or an expression of the pain I was feeling.
Years of deep loathing and frustration that only a slave can understand were poured out onto the battlefield, all in an effort to influence the last remaining member of my race. I still wonder today if my father would be overwhelmed with pride or shame at my final moments there on the alien planet.
Then again, it’s hard to decide which one I myself feel about it. After all, the prince of a warrior race should be regarded as ruthless and cunning and nothing more nor less. But ruthlessness includes doing whatever is necessary to win a battle. And on that day, I won a battle for my race. Or more specifically, Kakarot won a battle for his races. It was the true beginning of my hatred for him.
It is difficult to explain the feelings I had toward the man who buried me. When I arrived on Earth shortly after learning that he had achieved what I had spent my whole life striving for, it was hard for me to decide whether I was overjoyed at the imminent defeat of Frieza or engulfed in the infuriating knowledge that I had died at his hands nonetheless. It was obvious to everyone why I immediately decided to pick a fight with his brat. After all, the child was the only member of our species whom I could still beat in combat. It was irrelevant to me that he was a half-breed at that moment. What was more important was his relation to Kakarot.
I wanted his son to hate me. I wanted him to feel the same futility; the same vain hatred that I had suffered through as a young warrior. At that time, there was nothing more significant than making Gohan feel about his father the same way that I had about mine. Only…he couldn’t. Because Kakarot was nothing like my father. At the end of the battle, we all knew that he would return victorious. But my father…well, he would never return at all. I was jealous - insanely so - that my father would never receive the same hero’s welcome that Kakarot had.
To this day, I don’t know if I can fully understand why I didn’t instead love Kakarot. By all rights, he should have replaced my father and been embraced into our race by me, the only other member. I know why I hated him. I know the factors that led to it, and I know myself well enough. But I just don’t understand why all of his friends loved him, and yet I, a member of his own race, could not bring myself to do the same. I am his prince, after all. Why could I not be satisfied with ruling the strongest fighter in the universe? Why did I have to become him?
Perhaps I could blame my upbringing. Being a preteen in one of the most elite fighting squadrons in the universe tends to burden one with a bit of an ego. And being a prince didn’t help, I suppose. I was entitled…no, encouraged to be arrogant. Perhaps it was the fact that Kakarot should have been arrogant, and yet for reasons I could not understand, he wasn’t. Maybe that was what I hated about him. At the time, I was too blinded by rage to fully understand it, so now, years later, I honestly cannot comprehend fully what I was feeling then.
What I do know well are what my feelings are toward the man now. They have changed much over the years, and finally have settled into a definitive emotion. As illogical as it may sound, I feel victorious. And to some degree, I feel relieved. It took me years to get there, but I finally came to terms with his power being much greater than my own. For that, I am thankful. But more than anything, yes, I feel quite victorious over Kakarot.
There is a simple reason behind it, as well. I know when to quit. I know when to finally give up. It may have taken me much longer than the average person to do it, but the average person doesn’t have royal Saiyan blood. But finally, after years of tormenting myself…I knew when to quit. And it wasn’t a moment too soon. Because I came to terms with my past and my status, my present did not have the opportunity to slip away from me.
I am now the father of two beautiful children, and I have performed the Earthlings’ ceremony of bondage with a woman whom I can with some certainty consider to be the most attractive, the most caring, and the most entertaining one I have ever met. I live in a house with them. I eat meals with them. I train my son, and I protect my daughter. I have even attended ballet recitals (an experience I wouldn’t recommend to anyone, save my worst enemy). My children have grown strong and if nothing else, they know that they can rely on their father.
The point I illustrate here is that, unfortunately, Kakarot’s offspring can not say the same concerning theirs. Yes, he surpassed me on the battlefield. But at what cost did this come to him? Yes, he was blessed with a family who cares about him and a life without much worry outside of the arena. But in order to protect them, he has taken himself away from them at every turn.
When Uub appeared, it had been years since any one of us had done any serious training. Upkeep, of course, but not much improvement was made. So when Goku pointed the boy out to me, I was more than surprised. I had all but forgotten the story he had told me about the reincarnation. In fact, I had made a point to do so, since I hadn’t taken it seriously in the least. But here he was, standing before me. I should have known by then not to underestimate Kakarot in anything he did.
However, when he came to say goodbye and told his family that he was leaving, I can not say that I was surprised. It was completely within his nature, but at the moment it was surreal. I had known that Kakarot was hoping for his son to surpass him and become the Earth’s protector, but since his plan had fallen through, he had been looking for a replacement.
He would have his family believe that this was the end of it. He would have them think that they were the only thing on his mind, and his training was only out of love and protection. But when he left with the reincarnated boy, I could see his Saiyan side coming into play. He lusted for bloodshed, and it had been too long for him since he had had any real sparring challenges. When he left that day, it was to train someone to take his place, yes, but it was also a means to escape the trap that every day life had enclosed him in and return to old feelings of thrill in battle.
I lost one family. Once I learned to put all other desires aside, I knew that I could not make the same mistake with my new one. Kakarot, however, seemed to never have learned this lesson. He would always put his own desires before that of his family’s and for that he will always remain a child. Therefore, he may be the strongest warrior in existence, but he will always be a clown to me. And that is why I, the Prince of all Saiyans, will forever remain victorious.