Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ What Exactly Is Involved In A Saiyan Mating Ritual? ❯ And the winner is...? ( Chapter 7 )

Well here we are again, another week, another chapter, and out on time as well! Unbelievable! Oh well I guess this proves that miracles really do happen!

Disclaimer: *sniff* I don't own DBZ, that's the privilege of Akira Toriyama, please don't sue!

Chapter seven

A chill hung in the air as the shrieks of pain, gripped the entire stadium. Vegeta wasn't the type of person to hold back, and didn't care about the noise being forcefully expelled from his chest. He was used to the feeling. Before he had come to earth it was the only sensation he knew. It was like an old companion, and despite the debilitating hold that pinned him to the floor, was strangely comforting. These last few months had made him far too soft for his own good. Pain, humiliation, self-loathing, those were his catalysts, they alone prompted action, they instigated retaliation, and enforced the desire for revenge. His teeth ground together, and ignoring the grit that had been vehemently pushed into his mouth by his earlier meeting with the cold floor, used his free arm to push himself up.

The movement reinforced the pain that had momentarily metamorphosed into a dull ache as he had remained still. He again felt the urge to cry out under it excruciating influence, but instead used the feeling to his advantage, and breathed heavily through the nose, pushing his way through the pain barrier.

By some sort of miracle he managed to get up onto one knee and his grimace edged into a pain-contorted smirk as he heard the chants of the crowd in his favour. He was a prince! He was the last of an antiquated royal bloodline. Honour dictated that he should win. He would not give up. Even if it broke his arm, and used up every bit of energy he had left!

Then he heard it. The shrill and pointed shrieks of a very familiar female voice "DO IT FOR THE SEX!"

His ears wouldn't believe what he was hearing, and he coughed out a laugh at the words, sending an explosion of dust up into the air. He sniffed in disgust as the dirt circled around his battered face. The action didn't help matters as small particles tickled at his nostrils, adding insult to injury by making him sneeze. To his surprise, however, the action actually startled his opponent and the movement was enough to make the knee that had forced him to the floor lose its place on his arm. Eased of its persuasiveness Vegeta craned his neck up to look for that person whom he had heard screaming, above all others, for him to win.

Blood seeped from a wound where his head had made contact with the floor and split open. The clotted liquid trickled into his eyes clouding his vision, and making his head spin, but even that couldn't totally blind him to the fact that a certain aquamarine-haired angel stood like a beacon in the darkness willing him to win. Her computer-adapted ki licked its way around every deliciously defined curve, and seemed to breathe new life into his worn out frame.

A feeling that he had tried so hard to conquer, but had failed to overcome, now decided to reaffirm its grip on his heart, tenfold. He had tried so ruthlessly to deny that want, and ignore its existence, but had never completely succeeded. Now, with nothing more than the angelic determination of her features, that emotion overflowed, unconsciously palliating a forgotten power that raged deep inside of him, and unleashing its fury full force. He wanted to cry out loud for his sanity, and succumb to its gentle caresses, all in one gut-wrenching moment. It was a something so close to pride and supremacy, but so much purer and stronger. It made him feel as though anything was possible and his blood ran to near boiling point under its presence.

Alien and unnatural, but similarly comforting, it coursed along his veins and made that ice-clad Saiyan heart of his beat double-time. He couldn't place the feeling, but embraced its power. Unyielding like the wind, relentless like the oceans, and even more empowering than his Saiyan blood, it took its unforgiving hold and pushed him on.

Almost unconsciously he glared at his hands in disbelief as a purple aura tongued its energy enticingly over his now off-white gloves. It felt so … felt so… Then it hit him! A feeling? But that's impossible! Emotions shouldn't dictate power in…

He was stopped mid thought by an immense force pounding at this head. The roundhouse kick struck at his temple and sent him skidding along the flat stone arena, ripping open the blue spandex of his body suit, scoring its stratum into his skin, and jaggedly shredding the exposed flesh. The savage graze started on his left temple and cleaved all across the left side of his face, stopping at his angular chin and skipping where the armor protected his chest. It reappeared mid thigh and ravaged its way down those impressive calf muscles, tearing its path through the strong tissue and stopping just below the line of his regal boots.

His head felt as though a dozen busses had hit it as he tried to lift it from the ground, and for a minute all he could see was a dazed haze of shapes and colors. The elbow that sped down onto his chest, on the follow through, only added to the prince's problems as it penetrated his armor. The power, the pain, the feelings, they were all too much for him, but luckily for the spectators, his future mate, and his body, that something new rebelled, pushing aside all useless commands and sticking to the one it created. Whatever it was, it was in no mind to be defeated so easily.

Defying the warrior standing unassumingly over his battered image, Vegeta tried to get to his feet, scorning the idea of losing to such low class blood. He felt his legs crumple under his body weight, but wouldn't give in to it. The feeling that pressed down on his chest pushed him slowly to his feet once again. It enforced his bloodied frame to conform to the undiminished mindset it created. Grudgingly the royal Saiyan form, obeyed the rules of his head, and ignored the searing pain as it shot down his left side and curled around the pressure point that had been unmercifully restrained just moments ago.

Purple energy mingled with sparkling determination, heaving and expanding in unison, scorching their ominous mark onto the splintered stone. With eyes closed and mind worked up to super speed Vegeta kept his sixth sense focused on his opponent, while everything else concentrated on the newborn feeling that licked its enticing embrace around his inner sanctum, trying to control and heighten it to the powers that its influence promised.

Surprisingly to the shorter Saiyan his enemy seemed determined on waiting to see what he was up to, and not being in the frame of mind to disappoint, very willingly braced to collect it all. It was only in battle that Kakarrot betrayed his true ancestry, and having the bloodlust for wanting to fight against his opponent's full power, burnt as brightly as it should have. It was only at moments like this that Vegeta was glad he wasn't the only Saiyan left. It was Kakarrot's only redeeming quality.

For a moment the energy coursed its way uncontrollably into the night sky, burning its impression onto the vision of every spectator. The power burst and bubbled around him, as a vein on his prominent forehead, thumped in time to his fast-beating heart. Then all at once it disappeared as though it had never existed in the first place.

Not a muscle moved on that impressively inert face of stone. Even when he knew that he had opened that door and could practically fall into its enticing depths Vegeta wouldn't show its existence. Just as quickly as he had found it, did he control it, making the moment look like nothing extraordinary to anyone other than himself. He was glad that he had managed to catch it before revealing it all. Sensing its unbelievable limits was overwhelming, nothing had ever felt this good, except for perhaps a certain feminine tail...

From across the blasted and smouldering ring he could see Kakarrot standing in a pose that he knew all too well. After all, he himself had adopted it on several occasions. It was arrogance mixed with blind belief and he practically threw his head back in derision. The fools face was one of superiority. He thought that this current state was the best that his prince had to offer, and wasn't impressed. Oh this would be more delicious than words could make believable.

Silently he raised his arms in a shrug-like manor to show that he had finished and was ready to start the fighting again. He barley saw the nodded confirmation, before the amalgamated warrior was on him, throwing precise and eloquently delivered punches at his grazed body. His smirk grew with his confidence as the blows were effortlessly parried, blocked, and countered in swift succession. It almost turned vertical as he let out a deep-throated chuckle, and picked his spot. His white-gloved hand promptly curled the middle fingers up in line with the others, and delivered an unblocked knife-hand deep into the exposed tissue of his rival's stomach.

The moment seemed to last an eternity, as the deep black eyes of the Z warrior, faded into a blank grey. A half strangled sound escaped from his lips as he took a step back, extracting the culprit of his present turmoil in the process. Nonchalantly the Saiyan no Ouji pulled back from his offensive and flexed his fingers, just to make sure that there was no damage. He grinned evilly when he saw the ki light up around them as though they had never even made contact, and sensing his advantage turned back to continue.

The sight of his greatest rival staggering back and trying to gulp down air, with the same gormless expression as a goldfish, was amazingly satisfying, but he hadn't got the time to dwell on it, "As much as I enjoy the sight of you suffering Kakarrot." He sneered walking towards the crippled fighter, whom had lost his battle with gravity and now knelt on the floor holding onto his abdomen, "I have more important things to take care of right now!"

Vegeta crossed his arms haughtily over his scratched and bruised chest, and without any further delay let a gold tipped boot kick mercilessly at the nicely exposed ribs. It came up in soccer style and landed with a sickening crunch, as the sheer ferocity compelled the already stricken Saiyan into the air and towards the edge of the ring.

Goku's battered remains fell with a squelch of twisted flesh as he landed half inside and half outside of the nominated fighting area. The smoke of burning spandex was sent pungently into the air, as the arena limits burnt into his suit. Vegeta sighed, and walked disparagingly over to where the warrior laid, "What a waist of my time," he snorted, unceremoniously toeing the rest of the limp body over the flames and completely out of the ring, "And here I was thinking this computer-generated monstrosity was going to be a challenge!"

Turning away from the means of his victory Vegeta stepped conceitedly out of the arena, and seemingly ignoring, but silently revelling in the standing ovation that he received, made his way back up the stone steps.

When he reached the very top his path was blocked. Kandai stood upright, a full foot taller than the Prince, and graciously held out a hand to him. Vegeta's cold black eyes looked scathingly at the outstretched appendage. His lip curled unceremoniously at its absurdity, and he hit it violently away. "I do not wish for your acceptance spirit. Save your congratulations for someone who gives a shit!"

He pushed his way passed the stunned deity, and turned his attention to Bulma. He stood before her not knowing what sort of reception he would get, and although didn't show it, was actually a little nervous of her reaction as emotions, that she far too frequently partook in, flickered dangerously in those azure eyes. "I have completed the first part of the ritual." He said simply, "I now come to claim your acceptance. Only you can dictate if I have succeeded in the task set to me by my ancestors."

A flash of anger made him recoil "You want my approval after you beat my best friend to within an inch of his life?" she asked, her voice emotional, but ultimately controlled.

"Hai," he replied, carefully reaching out and touching her delicate skin with a gloved hand.

Thrusting balled fists violently onto her hips, Bulma tried to ignore the rare caress, "If that was really Goku then I would be so pissed at you right now Vegeta!" she shrieked.

"And because it wasn't?" he asked, one eyebrow hoisted to the heavens.

"And because it wasn't… I would have been so pissed at you if you had lost!" she chided, "What took you so damn long? Was the almighty Saiyan prince actually having problems with a low class baka warrior who wasn't a fifth as strong as the real deal?"

"Woman!" he growled threateningly.

"And when he got you into that wristlock," she continued, ignoring the threat and sensing the relief in his countenance, "Aw man that was sloppy Vegeta, ya know I almost thought he had you there!"

"You are skating on very, very thin ice!" His hands betrayed the anger in his words, skimming as they did over feminine shoulders, running down a perfectly defined back, and pulling at beautifully curved hips so they sat ever so comfortably against torn blue spandex.

"And then when he kicked you across the floor," her hand traced at the red mark that burnt down his check, pebbled as it was with grit, and couldn't stop her bottom lip from quivering.

"Did it bother you?" he asked pulling her even closer and gritting his teeth at the reminder of pain that scorched through his bruised body as he did so.

"You better believe it buddy," she said, prodding his ribs, "There is no way in HFIL I am missing out on the mating part of this sadistic ritual!"

"And there I was thinking that there was concern for me in there somewhere." He growled.

"Not a chance!" she smiled, not even having the desire to think about feigning anger anymore, as she felt his hands continue their exciting strokes. "I'm just in it for they lay!"

"Well that makes two of us!" he smirked, "So what do you say we get the teasing over with and get ready for the next part."

"What? Absolutely not! You're in no condition to be doing anything! That cut above your eye needs to be stitched and…"

"Stop fussing!" he spat grabbing hold of her wrists as she tried to have a closer look at his wounds, "All I need is two minutes and I will be fine."

"No you will not! Let me have a look at this?" Pulling a hand free and placing two fingers under his beautifully chiselled jaw-line, she turned his unresisting head to look at the scarring on his proud face. "This is bad Vegeta!" she mumbled. "You need to get it seen to!"

"And I told you before that it'd be fine." he countered.

His features and expression remained unchanged, but Bulma could feel the difference in his skins pliability. He was still pumped from the battle and the adrenalin was pounding through his body, making him numb to the seriousness of his condition. She had to talk some sense into him. "Vegeta…" she didn't get any further. He placed a gloved hand on her mouth to silence her as the other reached to his ear and pressed at the temple.

With brow furrowed and concentration flowing, Vegeta let a small red display fall over his left eye, searching through a dictionary full of text, before coming to the information he needed. Pushing at an imaginary button the apparition of his scouter beeped a confirmation and then proceeded to melt back into the alternate reality it had come from.

Heavily set ebony eyebrows lowered as he let his eyes close and inhaled deeply. Tiny droplets of golden energy clung to his body as he powered back up, this time however, the strangely induced energy didn't accompany it. Vegeta was a little disgruntled at that, but didn't need its power, so left worrying about it for a more convenient moment. Setting his scowl and baring his teeth under the pressure the microscopic dots were sent on their purpose. Spilling over his tanned skin and crowding over the area's that needed attention. His whole left hand side was set aglow under its power, and almost instantly the small lights were absorbed into his battle scarred flesh.

Bulma watched in open-mouthed dismay as every millimetre of torn, grazed or bruised skin bubbled with the energy. It seemed to be repairing his image from the inside out, just as though he were a machine. Even though she had a vague idea she still found herself saying "What the f…?" in a dazed monotone.

"Another one of my additions," he stated blankly, "There was no failsafe on the main game because it would have defeated the object, but in this instance I thought it might come in handy. Not that it really matters, its all-just aesthetics in this gaming environment."

"Aesthetics yes, but ingenious all the same!" she shrilled looking over his completely regenerated body. "How did you get it to work, without having to reboot the entire game?"

"Feh, and you call yourself a genius! Why do you think it was in energy form? As you are probably aware, the senzu beans have a small energy signature, all I did was reconfigure that energy to resonate on the same frequency as the games."

"A Senzu? Of course! That way the game wouldn't detect it and wouldn't override the main power! You never fail to amaze me Vegeta!"

"That's because you base me on human standings! Its disturbing." He sneered. "Now we've wasted enough time." He looked distrustfully over his right shoulder, "Are you still snivelling over there Kandai, or can we continue with this stupid ritual."

The guardian stole out of the shadows with the eerie grace, indicative of his ilk "As you wish Vegeta, but right now I would so much prefer to be back at my lookout, with my feet up and a cup of hot cocoa at my side. And I'm telling you right now that if you disrespect me in that manner again, then that's precisely what I will do! Do we understand each other?"

"Are you threatening me Kandai?" he laughed in total diversion. "That is not a wise thing to do."

"Remember, Saiyan no Ouji, without my presence the ritual is void. Now I'll ask again, do you wish to take this female as your mate?"

"Kuso, of course I do! It's the only reason that I haven't blasted your sorry backside into the next dimension yet! Lets just make this go as smoothly and quickly as possible, because believe me, I want this over with as much as you do. Although I do think you'll find the next stage entertaining."

"At last we can actually agree on something!" his duotone voice whispered, "I must admit that I have a curiosity to know how the great Prince Vegeta faired on his first Korosu!"

Vegeta's jaw clenched, "You mean you don't know? I thought god's were supposed to be omnipresent!"

"Well yes and no," replied the old man, "Lets just say that we're semi-omnipresent. We can pick and choose where we look, and who to look at, but even deities can only do so many things at once!"

Bored of a conversation in which she had no share, Bulma decided it was high time to interrupt, "Hey is this a guy club only, or can I ask what in HFIL you two are talking about? What is a Kor…ru…ru…ur?"

"Korosu?" Kandai suggested, putting Bulma out of her misery.

"Yeah… that! What is that?"

"Well," he stated, "At a particular time in every Saiyan's life he gets certain urges, and… well… it has become customary for those urges to be satisfied…"

"Whoa hold up a minute, what kind of urges?" she asked, fearful of the answer.

"Why, the urge that drives every Saiyan, of course!"

"And that would be?"

"The very basis of Saiyan society. My dear, have you never wondered how a dependable social structure could possibly exist under the dictation of such a violent race as the Saiyan's? You see the thing that drives them is a thirst for blood, and well… to create a society where that bloodlust rages without control, is very dangerous, to say the very least. On their thirteenth birthdays Saiyan children are allowed to give into that desire for one day, by being taken on their first hunt. The reasoning is very simple, to satiate that lust, and teach them to control it! Its roots are very wisely set, but as of recent years the ritual has been more synonymous with that passage into adulthood, than anything else. Korosu is derived from an almost forgotten Saiyan language. It dates back to before the Saiyan became a (relatively speaking) civilized race. Mostly a primal word, its use has been passed down from generation to generation. Purely and simply it's meaning is 'to kill'"

Bulma shivered at the words, "And what has that got to do with a mating ritual?"

Kandai smiled as a curtain of mist swirled around his ethereal body, "Nothing and everything," he whispered, before turning to face the crowd, "Let us continue with the ceremony unencumbered!" he instructed, "It is time for all those that do not have invitations to leave, the second part of the ritual is about to begin!"

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There ya go, chapter seven! I really hope you like it! As always, remember to review. I love to know what you guys think! Any suggestions are very welcome, just so long as they are constructive :) Well… until next week folks… bye.