Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ 28 Stars ❯ Monologue ( Chapter 3 )

 

Also, again, thanks go out to my beta, The Chichi Slaughter House!

 

Chapter 3. Monologue

 

Goku stared at the ceiling, mind floating around in a distracted train of thought, hopping between topics with little dedication, somewhat bored from being left on his own by the stubborn Prince. After Vegeta retreated into his own sanctuary, Goku hadn't bothered to wait around, opting to make himself comfortable in his own “home”, producing his own door -a tall, smooth panelled, red affair- and going off to take a nap. Not particularly needing to sleep however, the large Saiyan ended up lying on his bed, gaze fixed on the ceiling without taking in the view as he wandered in his thoughts, trying not to change his surroundings as he did so- although he managed to create one bar of chocolate, which he wasn't one to turn down- especially caramel. The wrapper laid discarded next a lamp on the table beside him, his thinking not fussy enough to be bothered to clear it away. His legs were bent at the knee, one hooked over the other, as his foot swung to and fro in a short arc.

 

He sighed, his tail tip flicking with frustration. Vegeta was sure taking his sweet time; although Goku was growing suspicious that it might be his own impatience getting in the way of things, altering his perception of the time Vegeta had actually taken. He frowned, the furrowing of his brow mild compared to the perpetual scowl of the Prince. Everything took longer when he waited for it. Well, unless he wanted it to happen immediately, but he doubted Vegeta would appreciate him suddenly appearing out of nowhere. And of course, it was beyond the dragonballs to command someone to do something they didn't want, as Goku knew too well.

 

He didn't want to intrude on the Prince anyway. Somehow, it didn't seem right, no matter how interested he was, to suddenly burst into Vegeta's thoughts…since that was what it was, wasn't it? Goku knew the Prince wouldn't like it- he hadn't been best pleased at closeness of their minds when using the potara earrings to fuse, even though Goku had maintained a respectful mental distance once he realised.

 

The place Vegeta was in was a thought of his own- as was Goku's. In effect, it was like their minds had a quasi-physical existence…not quite real, but they existed in a partially physical way in this place nonetheless. Their bodies too…they displayed certain properties like they did in Otherworld, like being more hardwearing and able to channel power at a greater rate, but hung onto some physical factors. Eating and sleeping were partially necessary, but Goku was growing to believe that it could vary depending on the mind's hold to mortality- if someone firmly believed they were alive here as a physical being, they'd have to adhere to those various rules- breathing, sleeping eating and the like, because they expect to. Goku found himself in the middle- if he wanted to, he could exist here without nourishment or rest, but being so stuck in his ways (and he really did enjoy eating), he never cut away the habits. Something like breathing, and expecting air to be there, just happened here, because he wanted and expected it, so it happened. Maybe it was the desire to eat, sleep and breathe that drove them to continue.

 

He wondered if Vegeta realised. Maybe he'd cling onto his mortality, but then again, knowing the stubborn Prince, he'd take full advantage of these rules to train more. Goku frowned more deeply. That would get kind of boring, just training solid all the time- not to say the tall Saiyan didn't enjoy the activity, but he imagined constantly keeping it up would wear on one's attention span after a while. Beyond that, it probably wouldn't be good for the Prince's mentality either, considering how obsessed with training he'd been before…

 

Goku shook his head, face softening.

 

Why would Vegeta continue to keep activity patterns he had already given up? Sure, he'd been obsessive in his waiting for the androids, and to a marginal lesser extent, Goku's own arrival from the dead, but he'd never taken it further had he? Evidently he had spent some time away from his rigorous training, considering the impact he'd had on their boys, as well as giving some of his Princely attentions to Bulma, for Goku really doubted she'd let Vegeta get away with shutting himself away too long, for despite her complaints, even she had limits.

 

Goku paused in his thoughts. Why was he so reluctant to let Vegeta leave him anyway? Why was he so agitated at the length of time Vegeta was taking to spend on his own, away from him? He rolled his eyes. All this time inside the dragonballs must have made him lonely, little wonder he'd want to hang around the first person that came in, especially since he'd never been alone much before now- he had friends with him when he was alive, even when he was dead he was still surrounded by people to talk to, to fight with.

 

He smiled wryly- Vegeta wasn't much of a talker usually, but he always seemed to be wired up for a good fight- and gave them, of course.

 

Goku couldn't bear it anymore- he could go visit his guest and he wanted to. Vegeta could tell him to go away if he weren't finished, couldn't he? Sitting up, turning and swinging his legs effortlessly over the side of the bed, Goku practically bounced out of his room, his tail waving out behind him in excitement as he slammed the door, stepping out into the orange space of the dragonballs. He looked around, gazing at the clusters of stars that floated around in the background, glowing faintly, but not the actual cause of illumine around him, the light source being the fabric of space he saw.

 

Concentrating somewhat, Goku willed Vegeta's door to appear, imagining the ornate carvings and dry black wood, as it materialized to his left. Walking with barely restrained excitement to the door, Goku grasped the handle, gently twisting it and stepping inside without hesitation, eagerness winning over. He ducked somewhat as not to hit his head on the top of the frame, peering into the dim lit room before him.

 

Vegeta looked up and around from his seat, watching as Goku walked through the doorway behind him, looking about the room curiously, before setting his gaze on the Prince, only advancing when he realised there was no objection to his entry. He looked around, taking in the room as he strode over to Vegeta. It was compact and functional, was the best he could say. There wasn't any unnecessary furniture, or windows for that matter. Instead, the room was shadowy from the flickering light of candles in hanging lanterns, suspended from the ceiling. Facing away from the door, positioned in the centre of the room, Vegeta sat in a large chair, not dissimilar to a recliner, in that it was tilted at an angle, leaving him propped up, but at the same time lying down, his elbows resting on the arm rests as his hands clasped themselves in his lap.

 

Vegeta's head turned away again, leaning back the recliner with a sigh. After a long bout of thought, he had let the idea of staying with Goku hit home, trying to come to terms with the drastic change. Not having seen the man for decades, he'd long given up ever seeing the other Saiyan to fight him again. It was strange how only in Goku's absence, Vegeta ever thought to miss him- this fact unnerved him immensely, the strange feeling gradually angering the Prince. Now he had Goku again, he almost felt relieved- happier even, knowing that he was not the only Saiyan around, knowing there'd be another to celebrate the thrill of battle with, knowing he'd have a challenge to live up to.

 

When he had no challenge, no rival to defeat, there seemed less incentive to train- if Vegeta knew he was the best individual, what was the point beyond maintaining his current status? He had attained his birthright of Super Saiyan status and beyond, exceeding power he couldn't even imagine beforehand. And Goku was always two moves ahead of him, the power and ability he had always that little bit sharper, a little beyond the grasp of the proud Prince, driving him to push further, knowing he could- had to- do better, fight onwards to improve himself, rather than being left to stagnate in the larger Saiyan's dust.

 

When he left, Vegeta had nothing to aim for; no picture of what he could have if he tried hard enough. At least as a rival, Vegeta had missed him, although he'd never, not even under pain of death, admit it out loud. The absence caused a lack of ambition, as it had after Goku was destroyed by Cell, leaving him in a slump, making training fruitless and in effect, not worth his time.

 

Only the children had managed to get him out of his rut, his desire to train others partially filling the gaping hole his rival had left. If he had no incentive to improve his own skills, he could at least help produce new fighters, rather than letting the handful of descendants from the Saiyan race languish, wasting their power and letting it diminish as they rotted within the human society. As the Prince, Vegeta could never allow it.

 

Never.

 

His sole reason remaining on the Earth was to guard his race, and watch over the generations. He doubted if the form of Super Saiyan would have been seen as far down the line of generations as they were now without his own supervision, germinating the thrill of the fight in his and Goku's descendants. The feeling of fulfilling this duty keep him going, he kept training to maintain as much power as possible in his age, and had largely succeeded, the immense quantities of ki he had preserving him as he watched the weaker ones around him gradually fail, even, to his immense personal pain, his own son and daughter, whom he had to watch age before his eyes, the human blood in him shortening their life spans, despite the influence of his Saiyan roots and greater quantities of ki there possessed.

 

Parents were not meant to see their children die, but the Prince, and his son, had both witnessed it, the life spans of the Saiyan descendants shortening closer to that of humans as his blood was thinned out with each generation, although they still lived far beyond human expectations. Vegeta's hands clenched slightly, the only outward response to his inner turmoil. He'd lost his son only a few months ago, his daughter a couple of decades prior, dealing the Prince to be childless, leaving him with a collection of great grandchildren to watch over, their own parents- his grandchildren- gone before his son. No matter how many deaths he saw go by him remorselessly in the past, it hurt Vegeta to watch his own descendants leave before he did, watching the generations he'd fathered in the past wither before his own eyes. There was only one other person left alive from the “old” times- the times he and Kakarot fought great enemies like Buu, times his own children were just that- children- and Vegeta was pained to watch him fail too, like the others had before.

 

It was a curse he was left to bear alone, and Vegeta did so, enduring the years his life ate up, knowing he was still needed, his conscience not allowing the total decay of his people, even if his blood was diluted. The current strongest, aside from himself of course, was the boy who'd collected the dragonballs for him, still only in his teens, but having easily attained Super Saiyan years before, only to jump further to level two, now making him the best available partner for the Prince. Vegeta taught him everything he could, every kick, every special technique, every strangle hold and countless other things. Vegeta's lips curled partially in a smile. If there were anyone he wanted to hand over his position to, it was him, that boy who was almost like a second son, a boy he'd trained from infancy, the supervision (nurture) of the skilled Prince bringing out the potential of the youth, his Saiyan battle lust shining out to Vegeta among his other descendants.

 

“Hey! Earth to Veggie!” Goku waved a hand in front of the Prince, who was gazing intently at nothing, before blinking, being jerked rudely out of his thoughts by the other man's eagerness, the bright, cheerful face grinning down on him, before his hand darted out, catching Goku's in a crushing hold, making finger joints click in protest, and their owner yelp, instinctively pulling it away, tugging against the grasp.

 

Vegeta looked at him, his glare deadly and serious, voice quiet and controlled, but at the same time, threatening, held with a calm evil. “If you call me that again Kakarot, I will break off your hand and make you eat it. Got that, moron? Don't ever call me that.”

 

Goku nodded silently, pulling his hand away from the relaxed grip and rubbing the knuckles mournfully, although no true damage had been done, the action more a mixture of habit and show on his part. Vegeta rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair with a lazy flop, showing his tail to be wrapped around his waist in its accustomed position.

 

“What do you want here then?” he looked at Goku with suspicion, eyebrow raised. “Why did you come to my place?”

 

Goku poked his fingers together, looking up like an eager child- Vegeta swore that for a few seconds, he actually looked like he was a young man, his bangs falling down over his dark eyes, before he brushed them away, looking at Vegeta with a smirk.

 

“Well, I came to ask if you wanted to train some, but evidently you are happy enough in your recliner.” Goku chuckled playfully. “I never thought I'd see you acting like an old man, Vegeta!” The larger Saiyan smirked in challenge, his ruse succeeding as Vegeta raised his fists before him in challenge, having jumped out of a chair in flash before the old man comment had left Goku's mouth.

 

“I am not old!” Vegeta yelled in defiance, glaring at Goku. “Fine Kakarot, we will fight.” He smirked with his usually cockiness, stepping back, his calm restored as the room dissolved around him.