The Conceit of a Happy Life
/\
Chapter 1
/\
Plunging
/\
/\
The control panels aren't responding. My spacepod pitches over and over itself, shrieking as it shoots through the layers of atmosphere. My skull cracks against the walls. I feel my face explode. I lose control of myself and vomit, too aware of my oncoming death to care about my stomach juices splattering everything, mixing with my blood. Life is violent, I decide. We enter in pain, and we depart in pain. What exists in between is pain. Agony and frustration erupt from my chest and roar up through my throat. My sanity shatters, and I know no more.
/\
/\
Voices reach my ears, and I stir.
"Holy shit, it's alive!"
"Should we do something?"
"Of course we should so something! Help him, you guys!"
A pair of arms lifts me from the ground.
"Not much to the little guy." A soft voice both from above and rumbling through a firm chest at my ear.
"Because he's been torn into a bloody rag." A deep, harsh voice.
"Goku, damn it, you don't just pick up an injured person like that! You could break his neck!"
"Oh, right. Sorry, Bulma."
"God, you could have just teleported to Korin's to get a senzu bean or something, but now that you've moved him, I need you to wait a second while I think—"
"Right! I'll go to Korin's!" My head presses into his chest as the male draws his hand upward.
"No, Goku! God damn it, I said wai—!"
Sudden silence. Then the air is different.
"Holy Kami! Goku, give a little warning 'fore you do that, would ya?"
"Sorry, Yajibrobe, but it's an emergency. I need a senzu bean for my friend here. Where's Korin?"
Who says 'friend' so casually, I wonder blankly.
"Takin' a catnap."
"Oh. Well, can you help me?"
"I could…" the Yaji-whatever guy says, and by his hesitation I can tell he is eyeing me suspiciously.
"Sooner would be better, you know."
"No need to get your panties in a twist about it. What happened to him anyway? And who is he?"
"His spacepod crashed. Or kind of exploded and then crashed. Or vice versa. I was downing a few fried chicken legs at the time, and it was all kind of sudden."
"Tch. A true warrior knows how to handle his food and the unexpected at the same time. You could learn a thing or two from me, Goku. I'm mindin' my own bnusiness, slurpin' a bowl of ramen when you show up and scare the shit outta me, but do you see any of it spilled? Hell no. Because I know how to handle myself."
"You are a master eater, Yajirobe…"
"Damn straight. Ah, here's the bag."
"Great! I just need one. Or maybe two, judging by the look of him…"
"Not yet. You didn't answer my second question."
"Which was?"
"Who is he? I don't just go around handin' out free senzu beans, Goku. 'Specially not to beat up aliens. I wanna know this ain't like the time you gave a senzu bean to Cell during the freak bastard's Games."
"This isn't like that, Yajirobe. This guy is just…I dunno, some guy. Not an enemy as far as we know."
"As far as we know, huh? Just some alien who crash-landed his spacepod on our planet, right? Not an evil goddamn bone in his body even? Or at least not one that ain't broken." I can feel him eyeing me again.
"Even if he is an enemy," says the one called Goku, "he will be my responsibility. You know I can handle it, Yajirobe. Now give me the senzu beans."
"Tch. You better know what you're doin', Goku…"
"Don't worry. It will be fine."
Some movement occurs, shifting me slightly. Two fingers press a small something past my lips.
"Chew," instructs the soft voice. "You are awake, aren't you?"
I try to utter something—anything—but nothing…
A hand cups my jaw and moves it up and down for me. Something tells me this would have infuriated the Bulma from before.
"Okay, now swallow."
The crushed bean dribbles to the back of my throat. I choke, but some of it gets down, and the cloud of pain begins to dissipate.
I open my eyes.
"Hi!" smiles the one called Goku.
/\
/\
The air abruptly changes again.
"Goku! You're back! How is he?" cries the Bulma.
"He's better. Suspicious, though. He needs another senzu bean, but I couldn't get him to take it. Maybe he'll be more trusting after a bit of rest," Goku says, carrying me down a hall and into a bedroom.
"Hey, that's my room!"
"Trunks, it won't kill you to sleep on the couch for a couple nights," the Bulma snaps.
"Ha ha!"
"Shut it, Bra."
The Goku one lays me down on a bed.
"There ya go," he says, then over his shoulder he calls, "Hey, Bulma, think we should clean him up or something?"
"I'm getting the first-aid kit and some wet washcloths now. Vegeta, wash your hands, so you can take care of this."
"Me?" the deep voice from before barks. "Why me, woman?"
"Because you have the most practice cleaning up bloody cuts and throttled bodies," she replies.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he shouts.
"Vegeta, with the way you train, you've made yourself the best male nurse of all the known universes. But if you'd prefer, I'll be our guest's female nurse and take care of all his needs and—"
"Give me that damn kit, woman," the Vegeta snarls, stalking into the room.
In the light from the hallway, I see a satisfied smile on the female's lips before she turns and leaves.
"Thanks, Vegeta. Listen, I'm gonna hit the hay, but call me if you need anything."
"You owe me for this, Kakarot," the male growls.
"Sure thing," is the reply as he leaves, waving over his shoulder.
The one called Vegeta and I are alone in the room. He hasn't turned the light on, and he stands fiercely in the dark. Both of us can see. He is trying to be threatening. He takes the two brief steps to the side of the bed and stands there, looming over me, a stance I suppose has worked on beings lesser than myself. He continues this way for a while, perhaps a few minutes, unblinkingly glaring down at me, studying me, trying to make me crack.
But if that's his aim, he'll be standing there all night.
He eventually gathers as much and chooses his next words carefully.
"I'm sure Kakarot is eager to become your friend, and some of the others might jump on the proverbial bandwagon, too. But know this, you pitiful sack of bruised organs—I hope with every fiber of my being that as soon as you can move you try to attack us because the fight—while laughably easy—will be nothing short of a delight for my Saiyan bloodlust."
I narrow my eyes at him, my teeth clenched. If my mouth weren't dry, I would spit in his face. He moves to the first-aid kit, opens it, and takes out a bottle and clump of cottonballs. Then he turns just enough that I can't see what he does next.
"Now," the bastard says, turning around and roughly grabbing my damaged armor by the shoulder pads, "don't move while I do this. And for god's sake, don't enjoy it."
Conceited bastard! I open my mouth to fling the foulest curses I know at him, but he moves faster than my tongue and shoves damp cottonballs between my teeth. Fumes rush into my throat and nostrils, and everything burns.
"Why don't you take a nap while I clean up the mess that you are?"
My eyes are practically swimming in ether, and the last thing I see is the Saiyan wretch's gloating smirk sink into a seething frown as he rips away my chest plate. The last thing I hear is his infuriated correction of the mistake they've all been making since the crash.
"Kakarot, you incompetent ass—it's a god damn woman!"
/\
/\
To be continued…
/\
/\
A/N:
Thank you much for doing me the courtesy of checking out my story. I hope that I have done my part and made this first chapter entertaining/appealing enough to entice you to read further.
~Niach