Vegeta threw a punch into the air before landing back on the floor as silent as a feather falling. He raised from his defensive position. 'To hell with it all!' he exploded, punching the mannequin in his training room. 'Stupid bastard!' he hit with a punch, 'Why leave me?' he lashed out with a kick, his attacks fast and furious. 'Kakarot!' he jumped and powered a barrage of ki blasts at the unsuspecting mannequin. When the smoke cleared he had obliterated it. He landed on the floor ungracefully, the dust still clearing. 'Damn.' he coughed, his hand combing his hair, he knew Bulma would not be impressed that he broke another training dummy. 'I don't know why I even bother.' he sighed deeply, unsure of what he was even trying to accomplish anymore. He looked at his hands and worried his lifetime of fighting, training, sparring had been for nothing.
Earth had been at some peace since Kakarot had left with the great dragon. The Z Fighters had dispersed to the four winds, living normal lives with their families taking no notice of their lapsed training. Vegeta felt like the only warrior on the planet prepared for an intergalactic attack, he rarely saw anyone anymore though he often felt Piccolo's energy training in his own isolated grounds. He felt something in him shift, a feeling of apathy, a need for a new direction. He ran his hands through his hair despairingly. So much for his proud warrior race.
Vegeta honey, dinner.' Bulma called to him. He switched off the light in his room, he closed the door and began to try to forget about that part of his life. Something in him had no desire to continue, no desire to continue training without a purpose, no threat. There were no more great battles to be fought on Earth, no place for that way of life and as he walked away he left a piece of himself in that room, to be forgotten.