Hey! It's me, Kamekaito, here to write another fic! I guess it's about time…

STANDARD DISCLAIMER

Stop asking me, no I don't. How can I make profit off thi-…? No, don't tell me.

I guess I better let you know what's in this fic, you SUMMARY-SKIPPERS.

Homophobes, run far. If you are a homophobic, why are you even here? WHAT ARE SUMMARIES EVER FOR, ANYMORE

Don't worry, those of soft stomach. There isn't any lemon, or even sex of any kind. Just plain old storyline. Don't run away, kids! I said no lemon, STOP SKIMMING, COME BACK

Seriously, do I have to say this is AU? C'mon, Really. I think you can tell it's an AU when there's no specific time the fiction is in.

Language, I guess… you sissies.

I'll shut up now.

CHAPTER 1- SEEDS

His mind drifted again, picking up random subjects for milliseconds at best and dropping them in favor of other subjects. He faded in and out of the conversation, picking up bits about capsule corp., daily annoyances, and small talk. He put his hand under his chin, supporting his head with his arm. He stared at a random point somewhere, not really caring what it was. He'd felt detached for the past few days, and when Bulma had invited him for dinner with the others, he hadn't been excited whatsoever. He was normally so easily entertained, his childhood closely resembling his later life. Something was jabbing at his consciousness, and he tuned into the conversation to hear Bulma calling his name. He jerked into a straight position, his hand slipping down to the table when the head it was supporting made a sharp ascension.

"What?" He exclaimed.

"You aren't eating. I've never seen you not eat." Bulma looked at him with a concerned face. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I'm just not hungry." He said with a wave of his hand. He truly thought nothing of the situation, seeing it as an unspecific detail of the evening. But, of course, his friends reacted in quite the opposite way.

Everyone at the table stopped talking immediately, their eyes glued to his face, studying his features. He regretted saying the sentence immediately. Yamcha was the first to break the silence, tentatively at the least. "Goku? Are you sick or something?"

"No, I'm fine, it's really okay." He wished they would just leave him alone, but of course they didn't.

Krillin turned to him. "You know we'd help you, right? If you were dying or something…"

"Yeah, of course I do." Goku responded, slightly taken aback by their assumption of a much more serious situation that didn't really exist. "I know you would help me. But seriously, nothing is wrong."

The door to the house creaked open, the squeaking stopping anyone from asking him more questions. He was silently grateful, right up to the point a familiar person walked around the corner from the entryway and sat down at the remaining free seat.

"Oh, Vegeta, you're finally here." Bulma greeted, a slight distaste weaved through the words. "I thought you weren't going to come." The same position burrowed in the otherwise passing-by sentence. Vegeta piled a plate up with a variety of foods, replying with a nonchalant "Whatever.", a response that truly fitted the hissing woman's greeting.

Goku gave a silent curse. From what he could tell, Vegeta had been the reason for his detachment; when the annoying man was around, his detachment was completely obvious, and he had no idea why. It was frustrating to no ends. What was he supposed to do? Avoid Vegeta at every turn? That was impossible. He had built up a reputation for training with him, and if he suddenly avoided him at all turns, everyone would be suspicious. If he told everyone why he was avoiding him, they would be suspicious of him being sick again. What could he do? Maybe he was sick or something. It explained what was going on. Maybe he got something that messed with his head. He could ask Bulma if there was a disease that did that. He picked at his food absent-mindedly.

"Kakarrot, if you're not going to eat, a productive activity would probably fix that small brain of yours." Vegeta recommended rather sourly from the opposite side of the table. Goku winced slightly, and then said, "Sure." His pained attitude showed through his response. He stood, not having to excuse himself. The repetitive cause of his leave was an excuse enough. He walked behind Vegeta, crinkling his nose. Something smelled different. He couldn't place what it was, exactly.

When they got outside, the crisp winter air gave no reprieve to Goku's condition. The large, usually comforting, nature of Capsule Corp.'s lawn greeted the two.

Ducking and weaving, hands darting out in tight fists. Sweat flying off tips of spiked hair. Speed unmatched. Advantages turned against themselves.

The same odd smell wafted from a source he could not pinpoint, and eventually overwhelmed him.

"WHAT. IS. THAT. SMELL?" He yelled, suddenly stopping movement and throwing his arms up in defeat. Vegeta was surprised, for once, at Goku's outburst.

"What are you talking about, Kakarrot? There isn't a smell." Vegeta raised an eyebrow.

Goku forfeited. "Look, whatever it is, it's weird."

It smelled a lot like how Vegeta normally smelled, but he was reacting oddly to it, so he assumed it wasn't Vegeta. It wasn't bad, it was actually a good smell, but it was so distracting.

"I'm sure you can deal with it." Vegeta replied coldly, ending the conversation abruptly. Goku sighed, and realized he wasn't going to get anything out of it.

They continued from where they left off, and the weird smell kept bothering him. He tried spacing out, but the smell kept his attention locked on the outside world and Vegeta. He tried breathing through his mouth instead, not minding Vegeta thought it was a sign of exhaustion, and he could still smell it. It was driving him insane, both the smell itself and not knowing where it came from.

"Look, can we stop? That stupid smell is still there." Goku tried.

"What's wrong with you? It's just a weird smell."

"I know what it is, but it's driving me goddamn insane!" Goku screamed.

Vegeta hmmph-ed. "Fine then, we'll stop."

Goku cringed; stopping made the smell more noticeable without fighting to focus on. What the hell was going on with him?

Was he… broken?

Thanks for reading my sorry excuse for a first chapter. Where will this lead? I DON'T KNOW! HAHAHAHHAHAHA-

Entire fanbase: You don't plan out your stories?

NOPE