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Author's Notes: Vegeta fic I came up with while still struck with writer's block for chapter 4 of my other epic. I've always wondered what Vegeta's thoughts were after the Cell games, so I might as well write my own. Oh, and this isn't yaoi!
Warning: Well, it's from Vegeta's point of view that must have to count for something…
Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ nor any of its characters.
It's surprising how many memories a few acres of ruined land can stir up in a seemingly emotionless warrior, even as one as cold as Vegeta, but as much as he tried, the man could not shake the chill that rose up his spinal column as he began his trek through the devastated land. Then again, much had changed from the time he had taken his first steps on what he affectionately called this "little dust ball of a planet." Back then that's all it was to him, a backwater globe that wasn't worth any of his time. In a way, he still really didn’t care, but the inhabitants there tend to endear themselves to even the coldest of warriors, including he.
The wind blew cold as he followed the path his heart laid out for him; the chilled, frosty winds smelled of death, and the trees appeared and rattled like bleached, white bones, shaking in the wake of it's unnerving cousin: the colorless, gray sky. A storm was on the horizon; Vegeta could smell it, feel it in his bones. Soon the winds would change and the scurrying suitors of thunder would begin their futile chase after their electric maids. His chin quivered slightly with this knowledge, but he set his jaw and moved on. After all, what's a little thunderstorm to a Saiya-jin?
Vegeta persevered through the winding paths towards the wrecked arena that lay ahead of him, oblivious to the dull ache forming in his heel from his rapid steps across the rocky path. He ignored the wind, the impending storm, and most of all, the uncertain feelings that fluttered like butterflies in his uneasy stomach.
To be truthful, he didn’t want to be here, not at all. Littered among the shattered hunks of whitewashed marble were the memories and thoughts he’d tried so hard to forget. Their eyes were on him, observing his every move, stalking him, watching him, and preparing for just the right moment to come bounding their way towards him. Unable to deny his hesitation, but still pushing forward to what awaited him, Vegeta couldn't help the unending shivers that plagued his restless body. The scent of spilled blood still rested heavily on the lands even after seven years, bloodshed that, in a way, he could have possibly prevented. All that remained for him was a poorly paved path of unspoken memories and pains.
Guilt blanketed his bleeding soul heavily as he began his long trek through the scarred dry land. The shallow veil he had covered his heart, or what was left of it, with was slowly beginning to slide off as memory after memory came rushing at him. From the lifeless, dusty landscape to the demolished hillsides, every part of the landscape held reminiscence for him.
Of course, what had he expected from these rocks? Happiness? Nothing better then evil graced this land, and the smiles that eventually would appear there so long ago were bitter and joyless.
Seven years ago, the protectors of Earth aligned themselves in an allied attempt to keep the Earth they loved so much safe from the evil clutches of perhaps the vilest creature to ever "grace" the planet with its presence: Cell.
From the moment that monster announced the arrival of his sadistic tournament, the world fell into a sickening feeling of impending doom and grief. The fiery battle that followed Cell's challenge would end with a broken child, a man in heaven once more, beaten warriors, and Vegeta's own dignity torn to shreds.
Cell…Even the very name of the sickening android sent a shiver through his forged and tightly walled soul. The ill-minded creature, its mind and heart only capable of the iniquity its very aura radiates, had taken the world from him. He'd lost everything that day: his pride and integrity, his son, although only for a short while with him, his dignity, but most prevalently, he took away his…friend.
Kakarotto…Why couldn't he escape him? In Gohan's eyes, in the never tiresome fighting spirits of his son and Goten, and even in his own heart Kakarotto's soul continued to follow him. In the soft whispers of rushing wind and warming rays of the morning sunrise he could feel and hear his voice calling to him, asking in that ever-cheerful voice for a spar or inviting him to some ridiculous party of his.
"Curses Kakarotto, why can't you leave me be?" Vegeta hissed into the air.
He understood his faults, and he could see Kakarotto's everlasting purity that he would never achieve, so why couldn't the man just leave him in peace? He was dead, wasn't he? Then why could he still hear that idiotic voice of his when he awakened, and why was it those empty weekends that used to be reserved for their spars feel so meaningless now? Damnit, why did he leave?
More importantly, why did he, Vegeta, come back here after so long, after so many years of simply repressing those memories? What key to his destiny lie among the unfeeling ruins other then perhaps the few shattered pieces of his darkened heart that he had left behind on the battlefield?
"Because one cannot shed the ghosts of their pasts so easily," Vegeta reflected bitterly.
Vegeta sighed tiredly into the cold, evening air; of course, why hadn't he realized it before. He'd left this encounter darkened in his mind and had tried desperately to rid himself of it throughout the past few years. Unfortunately, conflicts such as these are not so easily forgotten. Neither are friends.
No longer could Vegeta deny it; Kakarotto had been his…friend, and possibly, the only the only true friend he'd ever had. Kakarotto had seen in he something Vegeta had never even thought capable of his self: the ability to love. The Earth-raised Saiya-jin had seen past the cold exterior, past the layers of armor, and for the first time in years, an outsider was able to see Vegeta for what he truly was. Not a twisted, evil soldier of Frieza but a lonely, heart-hardened man whose forged destiny allowed for no weakness.
He had Kakarotto to thank for what he had now…Everything he had was because one person dared to dream, dared to believe in him, something no other person had ever done before, and Vegeta had come out the better man for it.
That didn't mean he was getting soft, though. If Vegeta ever met up with the silly, foolish man again, he'd be sure to prove to the third class fool who was the true Saiya-jin no Ouji.
The already chilly winds suddenly picked up at these thoughts, and the next thing Vegeta knew was that he was shivering.
"Kuso," he swore, "Damn weather-What?"
He paused suddenly, mid-sentence, as his sensitive ears struggled to hear the soft strains floating in the waves of seemingly silent air. Vegeta heard nothing, though, and the wind simply continued to howl around him.
Curses! Eight years later and he still didn't understand anything about the man. Then again, in a way, his heart rebelled against the thought of discovering Kakarotto, of losing that wonderful enigma. It was what had made them friends in the first place.
"The winds are changing…" he murmured softly.
Indeed they were. In the miniature dust tornados Vegeta could see the changes as well as in his mind. The winds were shifting, drifting, bringing along with them previously unheard secrets. Now, if only he could understand them.
Unable to stop himself, Vegeta sighed again, his soul breathing with him. It was times such as these that the utter emptiness and loneliness of the place registered to him. How alone he felt in the universe sometimes being the last of the Saiya-jin-no, more! He was the last prince of the Saiya-jin, yet he had neither kingdom nor people to rule. How utterly degrading to his father's name.
"Damnit, Kakarotto, I…we need you here," he whispered softly, "When will you return to us?"
No answer. What a surprise.
After a few more moments of dutiful contemplation, Vegeta finally succumbed the howling winds and stood.
"I know you're coming Kakarotto, you just don't want to tell me, do you? Never could let me in on even the smallest of secrets." He smirked. "Always want to surprise me, but this time you don't fool me. You're coming back, and trust me when I say, I'll be waiting for you."
At that moment, time stood still. Howling winds died down to dry whispers, the rattling trees became only clinking wind chimes, and the monstrous, sky-soaring cliffs quieted their rushing eaves. It was at this moment that somewhere, hidden among the rustling sounds of nature, Vegeta could have sworn he heard the slight chuckle of the mighty Super Saiya-jin.
And for the first time in years, the Saiya-jin no Ouji smiled back.
Yay, nay? E-mail me at ChaoticSerenity3@aol.com.
