Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ West City Academy ❯ The Briefs Girl ( Chapter 1 )

A/N: I'm writing this mostly for me. I've always tried to stay away from any High School fics, but alas it's my mortifying vice. Anyways... I will use and exploit the characters to my liking. So with that said, all characters are normal humans without any powers or special abilities and the odds of them being out-of-character are quite likely.

Disclaimer: I will only say this once. DB and DBZ do NOT belong to me and I'm not making any profit off of this.

Summary: DBZ High School fic. Rebellious teen, Vegeta, has no choice but to ask an ambitious fellow classmate, Bulma, for some help with the trouble he has gotten himself into. However, things don't just end there....

OoO

The Briefs Girl

Elevated breathing matched the tempo of the steps. It was in rhythmical synchrony—a long, shallow breath to every two strides. However, she didn't notice this. Running was natural to her. She could feel the light burning in her thighs, calves, and even the muscles in her stomach. It felt invigorating. This was her escape and her way of letting out her frustrations as she pushed her body to go an extra mile at the early hours of the morning. It was, in fact, still dark out, but she could see the sun starting to rise. So, she pushed harder and went faster as she challenged herself to race the sun.

Almost there. She thought, seeing her dome-like house at the end of the block.

Pushing further, she made herself run faster, taking longer and quicker steps. The burning in her muscles heightened all the more. The rock song she was listening to complemented the feel of that morning run and actually helped her drive. Just a few more steps…

She was all out of breath as she entered her house. Her sports tank clung to her body like a second skin. Pressing pause on her music player, she took her earphones out as she headed straight to the kitchen. She found her mother leaning by the counter in a light robe with a cup of coffee in her hands.

"Hey, mom." she greeted her as she went to the fridge in look for something to quench her thirst.

"Hey, honey. How was your run?" her cheery mother asked.

Bulma had found a bottle of water and downed half of it before answering, "It was good. I feel so much better already." She finished off the rest of the water, sighing in contentment at the refreshing feeling. Her gaze went over to her mother, "So, why are you up so early?

"Well, to make you some breakfast, of course. Don't think I don't know that you run out of here with only coffee and a single fruit in hand. What kind of breakfast is that for a teenage girl?"

Bulma smiled and shrug her shoulders at her mother. She wasn't the brightest bulb but as a stay at home wife and mother, she more than excelled at her role. "Mom, I'm usually not that hungry in the morning.”

"Nonsense. So what will it be? Pancakes? Eggs and bacon? You name it, honey.”

"Are there any `on-the-go' options?" she asked as she flashed her mother a wide, cheesy grin

Bunny sighed, "Kids these days. Don't even get time to sit down to properly eat."

"So..." she tilted her head to a side in question, "...is that a yes or no?"

“Yes, dear. But, try to make some time for breakfast in the future, ok?”

“Sure thing, mom.” and with that she made her way upstairs to her room so she could shower and get ready for school.

As she entered her room, she haphazardly took her sweaty clothes off and dumped it in a nearby clothes bin. Without feeling the need to remain drenched in sweat and ill smelling, she went directly to her bathroom.

She, admittedly, took a rather long time in the shower but she reasoned that it was necessary. A girl needed to smell and look good, right?

After drying up, she took her time getting dressed. One of the few perks of wearing a school uniform was that the dilemma of picking out an outfit was taken care of. Although Bulma did, like many females, like to play around with clothing options and fashion, she also enjoyed not having to worry about those very same things. It was a time saver really.

Once she was done getting ready, she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She tilted her head at her reflections and sighed. This is as good as it's gonna get today. She told herself.

The bluette girl didn't look bad. She loved her navy-blue blazer that had her school emblem sown on the left breast. It was warm and comfortable and most importantly of all… it had pockets. There were two on the inside and two on the outside. She didn't mind the white button up shirt, even if she had to tuck it in. However, the charcoal-gray tie was constricting and annoying. Bulma found herself adjusting it more often than not. The grey, plaid skirt fit her hips nicely it came up a little above the knees so it showed off a little bit her shapely legs. Track and volleyball did wonders to her physique. With long stockings and comfy loafers, she looked every bit the school girl. She frowned at the thought.

She quickly put on some mascara, blush, and gloss. She had brushed her hair following her shower and had only towel dried her blue locks. She had the fortune of having manageable hair. Rarely were hair-driers or hair irons needed.

Putting on a few last minute accessories and stashing her music player in a pocket, she dashed out of her room with her duffel bag in hand.

Once she made it downstairs, the smell of food instantaneously got her attention. She made her way to the kitchen. Her mother was waiting with two brown paper bags in hand.

“Here you are, sweetie. One is your breakfast and the other is your lunch.”

Bulma took the sacks and put them inside her bag. “Thanks mom.”

“Do you have enough money to buy yourself something to drink?”

“Yes, mom.” she sheepishly answered. Mothers. You can always count on them to over-worry.

“Good. Enjoy your day at school, honey.”

Bulma headed out the door but stopped and turned to her mother, “Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Where's dad?”

“He's at that conference, remember?”

“Oh, that's right. I knew that. He'll be back in a week, right?”

“That's right.” her mother beamed all the more.

She couldn't help but smile. Could her parents be any more in love and right for one another? “Ok. I'll see ya later, mom.” Bulma waved her good-bye as she made her way out.

Taking in a large breath of fresh air, she momentarily stood at her driveway. Her hand dug into her sports bag till she found a little white box containing capsules. She looked through the different colored and numbered labels debating which mode of transportation to take. Her eyes brightened and she finally chose one.

With the decision made, she uncapsuled her sports bike. After the expected cloud of smoke disappeared, the black motorcycle came to view along with a matching black helmet. She smiled at the sight of her favorite wheels as she took a couple steps forward. Taking the helmet from the seat, she hooked it onto her duffel bag and then mounted her bike with careful and precise maneuvering of her skirt. After turning the key, she gave the handle a couple turns, hearing the engine purr.

Music to my ears.

She then squeezed the cutch, kicked it in first gear, carefully rolled the throttle handle as she released the clutch, and then smoothly took off. She knew that driving safety wasn't exactly her forte, but that didn't hold her back as she sped up; changing gears, leaning forward onto her bike, and turning the accelerator in her hand. She only hoped a cop wouldn't pull her over for not wearing the required head gear. Nonetheless, she was sure she could charm and play the `air-head' card in order to get out of a ticket.

The fresh wind in her recently washed hair was as liberating as it was divine. Nothing could compare. The drive to school was so much more tolerable as she enjoyed every minute.

She slowed down as West City Academy came to view. As usual, there was a rather long traffic line at all the entrances to the private school's campus. Students, parents, and a few teachers alike were trying to make their way in.

Wow. She thought as she momentarily stopped before weaving her way through automobiles, earning her a few glares from her fellow student body. Good thing I took my bike instead of my car.

Continuing her easy drive down the road, her eyes briefly widened when she noticed shiny and sleek specimen of an automobile. She immediately recognized the making of the car. Her recognition was confirmed once she saw the Capsule Corp logo. It was the new, unreleased model... and it was also a present her father had given to a close and important business associate. So, needless to say, Bulma also identified who the impressive vehicle belongs to—none other than Mr. Ouji.

She assumed Vegeta Ouji was at WCA that fine morning because of his eldest son of the same name.

Junior must be in trouble again. She sarcastically thought to herself.

Bulma occasionally exchanged words with the military veteran and his wife during the few meetings and weapon testing and exhibitions she attended with her father. The man was quite knowledgeable in technology and its advances. Bulma was rather surprised at that. She had pre-judged and assumed that the intimidating owner of Ouji Enterprises was just an average muscle-head soldier who had the fortune to inherit the weapons producing company.

Mr. Ouji and her father's relationship was mostly business, but she could tell that the large warrior had respect for her tech and science nerd of a father. She supposed it was because he saw how capable, brilliant, and valuable her father is. The infamously irritable and difficult man even tolerated her for the most part. With that in mind, she made her way toward him for a quick hello.

Bulma wasn't stupid. She knew that a person of his importance and influence had to be paid attention to and she knew that it was in her and her family's company interest to remain on the same side. It was little details like greetings of recognition and small-talk that sometimes facilitated companies' alliances and merging. One of her life's goals with Ouji Enterprises is the latter.

With her bright blues on the target, she thoroughly eyed the car as she drove by. She was tempted to run her hand over the vehicle and feel the glossy, silver paint under her palm, but she refrained.

The driver's side window opened and loud rock music blasted from car. A blue eyebrow went up in amazement. Bruce Faulconer's `Hells Bells'—who knew Mr. Ouji has good taste in music? She saw his arm come out to rest on the edge.

Perfect. She readied herself to give him the most confident smile she could muster, knowing that `cute' and `charming' won't work with proud man.

She stopped as she finally stood next to him and started to speak, “Good Morn-” her simple greeting was left unfinished, her smile slowly disappearing as she faced someone who was not the man she expected.

“What?” His rude question was as spiteful as any of the words that came out of his mouth.

Typical.

She frowned and glared at her classmate... Vegeta Ouji Jr.

“Nothing.” Her reply was short and just as rude.

With a quick glance at the traffic light, seeing it was still red, she looked back and made eye contact with him, noticing his scowl deepen in acknowledgment. She gave him a knowing and challenging grin before leaning down on her bike and taking off, skipping to front and leaving him behind to wait in line like all the others. The small victory felt good.

Now inside the campus, she found a nice area with shade near the front doors and parked her bike. She intentionally arrived early just so she can enjoy a few minutes to herself before the day could really begin.

She leaned on her motorcycle and dug around her bag for the breakfast her mother made. Bulma was pleasantly surprised with the spinach and egg biscuit, a small container with diced fruit, and cookies. She began with the biscuit and took a slow bite, discovering the creaminess of cheese.

Taking her time with her meal, she couldn't help but think about the exchange she just had. She wasn't the least bit fond of Vegeta Ouji.

Bulma had known about him since she was a kid through Goku. Although back then, he was only known to her as Goku's brother's friend. She had never seen or met the Ouji boy till years later. She had seen him at a few conventions both her parents and his attended. It was impossible to miss the boy with the flame-hair that identically matched his father's.

She could remember the very moment they met. Her parents had led her over to the Ouji's for the specific purpose of introducing them. Her parents stood behind her and his behind him as they waited to see how they would react to one another now that they were face-to-face. The seemingly permanent frown on the boy's features showed utter disgust when she brought her hand out to shake his. It was at that very instant she decided she didn't like the Ouji heir. But, he took her hand regardless. He squeezed... hard, in an evident sign of dominance. She had glared at him and tried not to show that he was indeed hurting her hand, feeling as if he were trying to crush her bones in his grasp. Yet, she had never been one to back down so easily. So she squeezed back as hard as she could as she locked eyes with him letting him know that she wouldn't be intimidated so easily.

He grinned in response

Ugh. Jerk. was her only thought as they simultaneously let go.

"Oh, look! How cute! They've become friends." her mother had chirped.

Bulma rolled her eyes. That couldn't be further from the truth.

Total and evident disregard of one another or the occasional glare were the only interactions between them. She was thankful that she saw less and less of him at meetings, exhibitions, and events throughout the years.

Although, her mother had mentioned that his parents had enrolled him at some military academy. That explained his absence. Coincidentally enough, Raditz and his other friend Nappa, were sent to a military school as well. It was then that she put two and two together—Raditz's friend was Vegeta.

It was during the beginning of her freshman year that the tragedy happened. Mrs. Ouji passed away. It was not only a shock to her, but everyone else as well. She might not have liked him, but she adored Mrs. Ouji and couldn't imagine how Vegeta, his father, and younger brother were taking the terrible and unfortunate incident.

The funeral was beautiful considering the circumstances. There were so many people present, so many people dressed in black. Many were close friends and work associates. The Son's were there, but that was appropriate since Goku's father, Bardock, is not only Vegeta Sr.'s military comrade but his right-hand man as well.

As she stood between her parents, she couldn't help but take a look at Mr. Ouji, with his sons at either side of him. The man looked tired and worn down and her heart ached for him. Tarble, his youngest, was silent as his red-rimmed eyes stayed downcast.

Poor kid. she thought.

She looked at Vegeta, not surprised to see him frowning. However, he didn't seem to be paying attention to anything surrounding him. He was lost in his own thoughts as he stood straight and unmoving. With his arms crossed and his dark eyes cast in shadow, he appeared like a living statue. Just when she thought he could very well stay like that for an eternity, Mr. Cold went over to disturb whatever was going on inside his head. She watched as his scowl deepened, his eyes narrowed, and his nose wrinkled in obvious loathing at the delicate-looking, pale man. Bulma couldn't blame him. She quite frankly disliked Frieza Cold. The guy simply creeped her the hell out!

Seems like we actually have something in common.

Vegeta looked over at his father to briefly say something before leaving his side, but not before barking, “Tarble!” so his sibling could follow along. The boy did, dashing to catch up to Vegeta as he stepped outside.

“Bulma, why don't you go and check how the boys are doing and give them our condolences?” her father suggested as he lightly pushed her forward.

“Dad, I don't think that's a good idea. I think they need their space right now.”

Not long after, there was word that three transfer students were joining the WCA student body. She didn't think much of it till Goku brought it up.

“Guys, guess what?” he randomly started as he ate his lunch with both Krillin and herself. “Raditz is moving back!”

“Is he?” she didn't quite understand why the boys' father had send Raditz to the military academy and left Goku at home with his grandfather, Gohan. Although, on second thought the different scholarships the boys had was probably the reason.

“Your brother is moving back huh?” Krillin added. “You must be pretty excited."

“Yeah! And he's transferring to WCA. And you know what else?”

She let out a giggle at Goku's enthusiasm, “There's more?”

“Yup. Vegeta and Nappa are transferring with him.”

Her smile immediately disappeared, replaced with a look that reflected her bewilderment.

She then mentally face-palmed herself; of course those three were the transfer students. It made sense.

Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz arrival caused a whirlwind. The boys were quite athletic and immediately signed up for football, wrestling, and other sports of their liking. At the time, she was a cheerleader and had very well been witness to their remarkable athleticism. Their military background sure seemed to be a major factor of their condition as well as gave them an edge.

The trio were a big hit with the girls as well. The female student body were absolutely smitten with them. They roamed the halls as if they owned the school. The bad-boy persona that Vegeta and his entourage oozed was apparently irresistible. Many varying rumors flew about the boys. Bulma was sure it couldn't all be true, but on the other hand she didn't really care. Of the three, she only really worried about Raditz and that was simply because he was her best friend's brother.

Things changed the following year. For starters, Goku had finally joined her and Krillin in high school. Like Raditz, Goku was a natural athlete and had joined many of the same sports his older sibling had. However, although it wasn't clear in the beginning, there was a rivalry forming between him and Vegeta. Her childhood friend was becoming the new golden boy, surpassing many of the records Vegeta had set. It would seem Vegeta wasn't too happy about this. So much so that later that school year, he actually picked a fight with the happy-go-lucky boy.

The brawl between the heir to Ouji Enterprises and the new boy was epic in West City Academy and it was still presently talked about. Both Goku and Vegeta fought for quite an extended amount of time, both testing each other, both giving it their all. Their fight was so evenly matched it was hard to tell who would be the victor. However, at the end, Goku had beaten him. To anyone else it wouldn't have matter much. But that didn't seem to be the case for Vegeta. He seemed to take it to heart.

She was, of course, quite proud of her friend. But, she couldn't help but feel bad for Vegeta as well. She supposed it could be because she caught the same lost and lonely look etched in his features she had seen at his mother's funeral.

Her then boyfriend didn't share her compassion:

“If you ask me, it was high time that asshole got what he deserved.” Yamcha had stated.

“You really think so?”

“Of course, B. Why? You don't think so?”

She shrugged, “All things happen for a reason, right?”

“Exactly!”

Bulma did feel bad for Vegeta. That is, till he did the next jerk thing and those feelings quickly disappeared. She had a feeling that being Goku's friend didn't exactly sit well with Vegeta either. She wondered how Raditz and he made their friendship work.

Toward the end of their sophomore year, Vegeta dropped out of sports and began to cut school. He was in most of her core classes and she vaguely remembered not seeing him in class. It wasn't till Goku had mentioned Raditz cutting with his two friends that Bulma actually paid attention to Vegeta's absence. Yes, the boy took the loss against the underclassman hard.

Now in her junior year, things took place where last year had left off, at least for the most part. Goku was still West City Academy's golden boy, she quit cheerleading and didn't have any intentions of going back, and she and Yamcha were still broken up since before summer break.

“Hi, Bulma.”

The voice brought her out of her deep thoughts of the past. She looked back and spotted a beautiful blonde girl. She walked around Bulma's bike to stand next to her.

Her lips curved upward as she smiled at her. “Hi, Eighteen.”

She had made good friends with Eighteen Gero the year prior. She and her twin brother were still fairly new at WCA. Their father, Dr. Gero, was a sort of competitor of her father's. She had remembered her father saying that if the man wasn't careful, he could very well get caught up in his work to the point of madness. Seventeen and Eighteen were quiet and kept mostly to themselves. If their father was truly hanging on thread of sanity, his children didn't seem affected.

Bulma never expected a friendship with her. She had seemed so off-putting and antisocial alongside her brother. Eighteen and she were both track runners. She had always admired her for her strength. After all, not many girls were at par with the boys. Bulma was actually more than surprised the day Eighteen came up to her and commented on how fast she was and then asked her to join the volleyball team. They had been friends ever since.

After her breakup with Yamcha, she broke apart from her friends. Yamcha and she had the same circle of friends and, needless to say, it was awkward and painful to be around him.

The blonde girl seemed heaven sent. She was what Bulma needed at the time and she was ecstatic to actually have a female friend. She truly enjoyed her company. Her cool demeanor, quick wit, sarcasm, and dry sense of humor were refreshing to say the least. And she had a tomboy side, like Bulma, to boot.

“You want some?” Bulma offered some of her fruit.

Eighteen shook her head, “No, thanks.”

“Where's Seventeen?”

“In the art department.”

“That boy is really talented.”

“Of course he is. He IS my twin brother.”

Bulma shot her friend an impish look, “Ooh, sorry if my compliment held any doubt.”

Eighteen playfully shoved her, “Shut it, Briefs. Are you ready for practice today?”

She rubbed her arm. Eighteen was really too strong for her own good, “Am I ever?”

“Hey. Bulma!”

The girls looked over to where the voice came from. Bulma smiled as she saw Goku, Krillin, Chichi, Tien, and Yamcha walking toward them.

“Hey, guys.” she beamed at her friends.

She felt bad for evading Goku and Krillin after her break-up with Yamcha last year. They were, after all, her oldest and best friends. However, during the summer, they had amended their friendship and had gone on a little adventure. It was like old times again. Both Krillin and Goku were worried and had missed her after she avoided them. They had understood she needed time away from her `first love' but they weren't going to let her get away from them that easily. Or so, that's what they told her.

She laughed at this and was more than happy that she hadn't lost them. They had also helped mend her relationship with Yamcha. Bulma grudgingly cooperated. It took some time but slowly the romantic feelings she once had for Yamcha were channeled and turned into caring feelings she would have toward a friend. It was oddly easier than she thought it was going to be. Who knew that she could be friends with her ex after such an unpleasant ending?

“Hi, Yamcha.” she greeted and then looked over at Goku's girlfriend, “Hi, Chichi.”

The brunette was in same grade as Goku and she had become friends with her through Goku's insisting. She had actually met Chichi during elementary school. She remembered Chichi chasing Goku during recess the way most little girls and boys chasing after one another did and she remembered Chichi had thrown mud at her and Krillin at one point. It is embarrassing for her to admit but she held a grudge on Chichi's childish antics for years. But, they had a chance to re-acquaint through cheerleading when she was a sophomore and Chichi a freshman. Her second impression of her was as bad as the first. She came off as a bossy little know-it-all and Bulma couldn't stand her.

In fact, when Goku had confided his crush on Chichi to her, Bulma was livid. She had scolded Goku like a younger brother and told him that Chichi was just a big-mouthed, pushy, irritating girl and that it was best for him to forget about her. But alas, her telling Goku to stay away from the raven-haired girl made him more interested in Chichi.

She reprimanded herself on the psychology behind it. She really should have known better.

Bulma could still remember her boys trying to convince her to give Chichi a chance. And she could especially remember Goku's incessant whining. That moment was so clear in her mind:

“Come on, Bulma. It's not going to hurt you if you hang-out with the girl for one afternoon.” Krillin had lazily reasoned. He was really only there as Goku's backup.

She had put her fingers along her temples and made a circle motion to placate the headache she could feel coming, “That may be true. But… how sure are you that I might not end up hurting her?”

“Pleeeeeeese, Bulma. It would mean a lot to me.” Goku begged.

“Ugh. Are you seriously givi-” her eyes shot over to Krillin, “Is he seriously giving me his puppy-dog face?”

Krillin laughed, “That seems to be the case.”

“Buuuuuulma.” Goku continued.

“Damn it, Goku! You're dating her even with my obvious dislike of her! You're a big boy and you can evidentially do as you please! I don't understand why my opinion and approval of her is important to you now, especially after the fact that I advised you to stay away from her! And for that matter, why the hell do you want me to hang out with her anyways?!”

“I just want you guys to be friends.”

Ugh. My pal, Goku—the eternal optimist and ambassador of friendship. She remembered thinking.

“That's part of it.” Krillin had said as he leafed through one of Bulma's girl magazines, “Tell her the rest, buddy.”

She narrowed her eyes at the spiky-haired male, “There's more?”

He had sheepishly laughed as he scratched the back of his head, “Um, yeah. Chichi is… kinda… jealous… of you.”

She wasn't sure she heard that right, “I beg your pardon?”

“Chi is a tad bit jealous of you.” Goku clarified, “Well, you ARE my best-friend that's a GIRL. We pretty much grew up together and we hang-out a lot. And you're older, and really smart, and… well… you're pretty...”

Bulma couldn't help the blush that stained her cheeks and had quickly looked away. She crossed her arms and noisily exhaled, blowing her bangs away. She had actually felt bad for Chichi. Damn it.

She dared one more look at her friend, seeing the wretched look across his features. His puppy-dog face really did work, but she would never let him know that. “Ok. Fine. I'll go on a girl-date with her.”

Goku had just about leaped with joy, “Wow! You mean it? Bulma, you're the best!”

She dismissively waved a hand in his direction, “Yes, yes. I know. I am kind.” She was then surprised when he had embraced her in a giant bear hug that just about forced air out of her. Her feet had left the ground and he turned, twirling them both in a show of his excitement. Once he set her down, she had managed to catch her breath. “Geesh, Goku. You might want to warn a person before doing that.”

He chuckled, “Gee, sorry, Bulma.”

“You know, I really miss the days when I was taller than you.”

Goku naively tilted his head to one side, “But, boys are supposed to be taller than girls…”

“You didn't even know what a girl was till you met me, buster.”

Krillin laughed at the hilarity which only made her smile.

So, she had lunch and then went shopping with one of her best-friend's girlfriend. Bulma had discovered that Chichi really wasn't that bad. Sure she had some control issues, but her better qualities overshadowed her not so pleasant ones. The girl was well-meaning and kind of a sweetheart. She supposed it's what Goku saw in her. Besides, with careful observation, she saw that Chichi was only loud and bossy when she felt insecure. It was just her defense mechanism.

She was happy for her friend.

Now, in the present day, everything seemed to work out great. Everybody around her got along and everything was running smoothly.

“You know, Bulma…” Chichi cut her train of thought. The girl seemed to be comfortable with not only Bulma, but her friendship with Goku as well. ”…you should really try joining cheerleading again. It'd be a lot of fun.” Chichi suggested, smiling at her.

She heard Eighteen scoff beside her.

“Yeah, I bet Launch could make that happen.” Tien added. He was really proud that his girlfriend made head-cheerleader.

“Thanks, but, I don't see that happening.”

“Why not? You looked good in that cheerleading outfit, B.”

She hit Yamcha's arm for the comment, “Perv. You've been hanging around Krillin's place too long.”

“Hey!”

“I was referring that your guardian's a perv, not you Krillin.”

“Good. Just wanted that cleared up.”

They chatted for a while longer, up until the bell rung. Then students made their way to their classrooms in a large herd.

Bulma, as well as many others with their vehicles, quickly capsuled her bike before heading inside.

After exchanging farewells with her friends, she made her way to Calculus. She took her seat and waited patiently for class to begin. One by one the class filled up with her fellow schoolmates. It was really a shame she didn't share many classes with her friends. She was taking advance courses categorized as senior level classes. She had Launch in her next class for Business Management, Tien in Economics, and then Raditz in her Automotive class. Sure, they were all good company, but they weren't that close. The seniors leaned more toward being acquaintances than friends.

The Professor walked in and the bell promptly rung.

“Good morning, class.”

“Good morning.” a few students greeted back.

“Well, let's get started. Please hand in you-”

The instructor was interrupted as he decided to make his appearance. Vegeta walked into class and took his sweet ol' time to his seat, his stride purposeful and casual. He made eye contact with the cross-armed Professor as he stopped before him. Opening his textbook, he leafed through the pages till he found what he was looking for. He then placed his homework on the Professors desk and made his way to his desk.

She frowned, sharing the same annoyed feeling toward Vegeta as her teacher. He was such a nuisance. Her eyes traveled over his figure. He wore the required uniform; grey slacks, white collared shirt, grey tie, and navy-blue school blazer. However, he quite deliberately didn't wear his uniform in the appropriate manner. His shirt was un-tucked, his tie hung too loose, his shirt and blazer's sleeves were rolled up, and the first couple buttons of his shirt were left undone, showing of the hard lines of his chest. How the hell was he able to get away with that? How was it that this boy was the future leader of the OE? Why is it that he lacked the discipline and vision for his family's company he once used to have?

He sat a couple seats behind her. As he walked down her row, she noticed the exchange between him and a pretty pink-haired girl.

She rolled her eyes. My gender could be so stupid sometimes.

Once Vegeta Ouji took his seat, class finally began, as well as the official start of her day.

OoO

A/N: I suppose this came out more as the background information than anything else. I know things jumped around a lot (past and present) and I hope it wasn't confusing. If it wasn't, I'll leave it as it is. If it was, let me know and I'll try to clear things up.

This hasn't been beta read so I'm sure there are mistakes. I will probably go back and fix those. I just really wanted to put the story out there and get some opinions. It sure as hell came out lengthier than what I thought it would be. And it only covered a morning. Oh well.

The plan is for the next chapter to be Vegeta's POV. We'll see how that goes. Just fyi, they're (obviously) not all in the same grade. Not sure if the specifics of who's in what grade is important or not. If you likey please review. ;)