As in most stories this one begins on a soft summer day, long before the sun would nuzzle above the mountains in the east, and many hours before the birds would feel the thick air with lullabies of ending summer, our hero laid awake in his plush bed the creamy ceiling his only companion as he glanced again to his clock. The red digits read only 3 A.M. A soft sigh escaped as he rose up from the bed looking for his boxers.

If only every morning could begin later, and every sorrow in his mind had left with last nights dreams, his chest was heavy with tensions lying deep within; he paced through his apartment, like a robot, fulfilling each task but without emotion, or meaning. The cold shower water was the same as yesterdays, the coffee was bitter, soothing, just as in was everyday. Constancy kept this young man sane, but drove him to insanity all at the same time. Would he do these very tasks everyday for the rest of his life? What was there for him to accomplish, was there anything that would make each morning of waking worth it?

Could he stand to live everyday, and die, without one care, one tear for him? He would never be known by anyone, in any text, just dirt. This certain young man was not ready to except that all he would be good for was fertilizer in 60 years. He got dressed and left the humble apartment into the mazy streets of Tokyo. The streets breathed people into the morning air, the towers the loomed above him rung the early hour of 6 A.M. but the people began their journeys to jobs and careers. No one glanced at him with suspicion or fear, nor respect or love. These people glanced through him, and he truly had no one. A million people stood next to him, and none of them knew his name, or where he lived. The usual depression of morning rode him as he walked into a local gym.

He entered unnoticed; the manager sat behind the desk watching boxing on the television, no one else was in the gym. Vegeta began his daily routine, and finished about 8, He really had no concern for physical appearance but the workouts were suggested by his therapist and usually did a nice job of easing away his depression. He left into the streets, now more crowded then ever. There were so many things a male of his young twenty's was supposed to depend, most importantly seemed to be a woman. To be frank Vegeta never saw any reason for a companion, he enjoyed going out every once in a while and sex wasn't to far down his top 10 list of things to do, but he would go on without it. He didn't need another person holding his hand to make his day better; he didn't need anything to complete him. Too many of his pieces seemed missing as it were. In any case, it was that time of year, and every morsel on earth had their significant other. He watched everyone around him with his usual emotionless stare.

Ah, he almost forgot. Breakfast time. Vegeta hoped on the 3rd street train, in his opinion in was much less crowed then the one on Fourth Street. He was willing to risk the extra block walk to the train stop for some much needed breathing space. Someone, however, did notice that Vegeta was a human being today. Rare, really it was. She was tall, blonde, gaunt, an attractive creature but...

"Why hello dear, may I pop a squat?" Ah damnit, why'd she open that mouth. Vegeta grunted in approval but shifted over a bit. The dime three seats over captured his interest with the utmost importance now. Hopefully she'd notice. "The weathers been Wonderful hasn't it? I'm visiting from England, have you ever been there, lovely place." She began unfolding a map over her home planet and insisted Vegeta pay attention. "You see that dot?"

"Yes."

"That's where I live. Isn't it cozy looking?"

"It's a nice dot."

"I know! My family in Japan insists on staying here, but I tell them over and over, it's So much nicer back home." She sighed folding her map away shoving it in a microscopic handbag and stood. "Welp this is my stop!" It was also Vegeta's but he nodded a goodbye and waited till she was out of sight before slipping out of iron doors.

The large train station was packed this time of day, it laid in a cool cave under the busy streets of Japan. A thin sheen a sweat caressed his heavy black brows as he embraced the heat of Japans summer. The steel builds rose far above the streets, like a gate gripping its inhabitants. It was all one giant circus act, the people fill there lives with meaningless chore, performing each show with the ease of everyday existence and the comedic relief of all the silly things people do. Was Vegeta really the only person who noticed this? Who longed to break away? He would rather own the city then be played like a puppet. He trailed off in thought as the flow of people carried him towards a restaurant only a few buildings down. The restaurant was called the Decisions. The food was hot and cheap, and it served about everything made under the sun, hints the name. He gripped the large brass handle of the restaurant doors, the people chattered and mumbled inside, the thick smell of food filtered through every splinter of the aged red door, but something stopped Vegeta from opening the door. Something that would truly define him, a decision. The blonde women from the train passed him right before he entered, out of the corner of his eye he saw her fall back into an alley. Guarded by the angle of the neighboring building he couldn't tell if she had meant to walk down the alley or perhaps, had been persuaded. He sighed looking at the door in front of him. What did he care if she was hurt, even mugged. Vegeta had tried so desperately to escape her clutches on the bus. He stepped away from the restaurant and ran to the alleyway.

Sure enough Blondie cried helplessly into the midmorning air as her predator held a thin metallic gun to her delicate jaw line. They had moved down the alley and far from the street. Vegeta was a fairly strong guy, but he couldn't fight, especially against bullets. (Every Vegeta fan out there is So hating this out of characterness aren't we. Well it's my job kiddies!) Was he brave enough? Vegeta probably had never done a noble thing in his life but he'd put himself in this position, he knew what was going on and to run away now would be killing her himself. He ran towards the large man pinning her against the wall. He was much taller then Vegeta, and build like a tank.

The Predator of course noticed Vegeta long before he reached him, and threw the girl against the ground and fired a single shot into the young Vegeta's body. Watching it fall to the littered alley way ground. Vegeta gasped out holding his side, the pain was slowly gripping his every nerve, before long his toes were aching. He couldn't remember where he was, or even what he was doing. His entire being was focused on the single throbbing pain that melding to his side. He cried out, he face rubbing rough, the skin peeling away from him forehead against the thick blacktop.

First chapter complete, it's pretty upbeat, I will point out that Vegeta is not Vegeta…Yet. This is a storey of the Making of Vegeta, and please keep that in mind. What do you kids want to happen next? Please read and review.