Forgotten

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The peace was unnerving. Deceiving. The halted breath before the scream.

Until recent years, the calm had been nestling serenely against the humble tranquility of Kaioshin Kai. The wind of the heavens would fall on the rich valleys like warm honey, relaxing and rolling itself across the grass trampled on by only the holiest of beings. The orange-pink shroud of the celestial sky was thrown across one's vision as if it were a veil of beauty, covering the eyes to keep from taking it all in at once, lest they be killed. Only the sounds of the song birds could be heard, the smell of the water's edge solely penetrating the nostrils. To Kibit, it was home. To him, it was beautiful.

At least that's what it used to be. The original intention. This sacred planetoid was only a hollow frame of what it once was. A sadness filled his eyes as he peered over his shoulder. The grass that tickled like a fairy's feather, and smelled almost as sweet, was still marked by the battle with Buu two years beforehand. He would never forget the day that mortal and evil blood alike was to be spilled here. Originally, that would have been out of the question. When Kaioshin made the decision to end the fight for existence on this place, Kibit knew in his heart that it would only be the first of a series of broken sacraments. Nothing ever stayed perfect for very long. That's just the way life works. It's a cycle of disappointments, failures, let downs, and false hope. He had hoped that the situation with Buu could be ended in one swift blow. He had hoped that the warriors of Earth would only help things, rather than complicate them. He had hoped that Kaioshin wouldn't grow attached to them. And he had hoped that with Rou Kaioshin stepping in place over his former master, that the wrong could be made right.

But never in all the ages had he imagined… this…

Calm yourself, Kibit…

"Back so soon?" the guardian spoke aloud. "You've only been gone for a few short hours."

What else can I really do?

"Let me find them!" Kibit shouted in anger now, throwing his fist for emphasis. "This is blasphemy in the highest regard, Kaioshin!" The last word of his outcry found its way into the clouds, as they shouted it back and forth to one another with all the fury that his own voice carried.

Please, Kibit. May I take the reigns again?

Kibit held the comparably tiny hand of the Kaioshin before his eyes. The light violet body felt fragile under the strength of his spirit, and the palms seemed calloused with worry. Kaioshin had seen far too many atrocities in his day. Being angry and outrageous would only add to the ever-increasing stack of fret.

"You may," he whispered. "After all, it is your body."

Thank you.

With a low groan, the man let his eyes roll into the back of his head, and after a brief release of air, Kaioshin was back. The two had worked out a system over the past couple of years that proved to be rather effectual, trading places in Kaioshin's body for thought or other business. Under the advice of Rou, they had merged into one being, making things quite simple for themselves. And, as always, Kibit had remained ever vigil, ever serving, watching and waiting, guarding and meditating. A lighthouse for the storm. Just as Rou…

With a hushed breath, the immortal glanced over his shoulder at the mutilated figure that lie limp on the grass of Kaioshin Kai. The holy blood had long since dried, seeping into the soil underneath. Rou's body- if one could call it that. It was hardly recognizable. Several slashed wounds ran from shoulder to hip, ear to ear, and neck to gut. Whoever it was, it had to be the work of the most devious assassin ever conceived, by far. In the cover of silence, he had somehow made his way onto the planetoid, and taken the life of the ruler of the four galaxies. Killed with an immortal blade, as well- or else, the body would have disappeared. He had truly never seen anything like it.

So what do we plan to do now?

Kaioshin closed his eyes from the ghastly site, and turned to face the still waters of his home. The wind caused a slight chop of the waves, rustling the liquid to create noise amidst the peacefulness of the setting.

"Well, Kibit," he spoke aloud, with a slight hesitation in his voice. He knew that his friend would not like this. "We go to the man who knows about these sorts of things."

Somehow, I knew you were going to say that…

"It's the only way."

Kaioshin, he was banished for a reason. He's not to be tr-

"And who is, at a time like this?" His query was met with no reply on the other end of his mind. Kibit had retreated into thought. It was just as well. Kaioshin needed as much clarity right now as he could possibly muster. With a sigh, he shut his eyes tightly, preparing himself mentally for the task of transporting his body elsewhere. He would bring Rou's killer into the light, even if it was the last thing he did.

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Released…

To Vegeta, the moon was laughing. It had been wished back a year ago. At one point, the source of the saiyajins' power. A permanent white smile, emblazoned against the night sky, hanging in watch over the peons below. Over him.

The saiyajin wiped the cold sweat from his brow, aftermath of yet another nightmare. Lately, he found comfort in standing on the balcony to overlook Western City at night. It was better than the monotonous quiet that was screaming inside. Better than the screaming in his head, for that matter.

Right now, all of his senses were heightened. He could smell Bulma's flowers on the deck below, lilacs and roses that lined the pathway up to the Capsule Corp. mansion. He could taste the humidity of a muggy night. He could hear the wind racing towards him just as its cool fingers ran across his bared chest, wrapping around his torso in a chilly embrace before hitting the balcony wall beyond. Vegeta increased his ki just enough to stop the next breeze dead in its tracks, and watched as its brethren followed suit. After a moment, he pushed his senses outward, throwing them all back into the trees where they came from. The leaves shook violently, and then quieted.

Releasedes…

Voices in the night. The saiyajin prince placed his hands on the balcony railing, leaning forward against the gritty concrete structure as he studied the city beyond. Even under his toughened fingertips, the stone felt rough and mangled. It reminded Vegeta of himself. Worn, strong, supportive. Tired. Tired from holding so much.

The voices that had been keeping him awake at night were coming more strongly now. Their message was certainly clearer, to say the least.

Releasedestruction…

Along with the voices had come the dreams. And with the dreams, the unshakable feeling that someone was watching. Vegeta shifted his weight, the familiar sensation of tingling hairs on the back of his neck sinking in once more. He could never make out anything, just a presence, amidst the shadows. It was there, even now. No ki- but there was something waiting. Had they tried to make any kind of attempt to remain hidden, it wouldn't have worried him so much. If any creature was watching him, certainly they knew what he was capable of doing. Surely they knew of the danger of being spotted. Yet, they didn't care. And that disconcerted him to no end.

He eyed the shadows underneath the foliage, studied them as the figure hidden there studied him back. Another cool breeze met the broad expanse of his chest again, and Vegeta turned his gaze away just long enough for the observer to disappear. Gone again. Just like last week. The saiyajin frowned to himself, and walked from the railing to enter the bedroom door, wide open in the night. As he passed through the doorframe, the drapes flapped noisily, causing a small stirring from his slumbering wife. Bulma had enjoyed the time of peace much more than he did, glad to have all the fighting said and done with. Though he would occasionally tell her about the dreams, she insisted that it was only his fighting spirit refusing the acceptance of a peaceful life. Somehow, he doubted that. There was always a threat, somewhere. He began to shut the doors behind him, letting his eyes roam upwards to study the moon once again…

And there it was.

Standing on the balcony, clad in black, his face pressed against the window panes, was his pursuer. It's features were covered in a metallic mask that resembled a skull, jaw jutting forward, white eyes underneath. The tattered hood whipped around his face in the wind, the torn edges of the cape that followed hanging lifelessly at the waist. It looked to Vegeta like Death. The saiyajin held his breath unknowingly, and the sudden click of the locking door caused him to gasp.

By the time he had looked up, the stranger had disappeared. Vegeta started searching frantically with his vision. Even the wind had died… All was silent save for the sound of his heart pumping violently in his own ears. Like a river of blood…

Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. An icy soul, mere inches from his own- a throaty growl sounding in his ear.

"What do you want?" Vegeta spat, still facing forward. The presence behind him shifted, bringing itself even closer to his own body. Goosebumps began to ripple along his forearms as he waited, the fear holding him frozen in his movements.

"I want you to come back to bed," Bulma cooed in his ear. As quickly as it had arrived, the paralysis was gone, bringing in a flooding warmth with its absence. The saiyajin sighed, and leaned back against his wife.

"You worry me when you do this, you know," she whispered into his left ear. She wrapped her arms around him. "Come back to bed."

"I had another dream." He dared not tell her about the stalker on the balcony.

"I know," she answered. "You were talking in your sleep."

They began making their way deeper into the bedroom, with slow, lazy steps. "What was I saying?" Vegeta asked hesitantly.

Bulma plopped down on the mattress with less than grace, quickly snatching the covers up around her. "It was really creepy… something like… The will of the Kaioshin will not be broken…

The Forgotten will see to that."

The voices spoke the words just as she did.

"Do you know what that means?" she asked, rolling over as she drifted back into sleep.

Vegeta stared out of the balcony window as he pulled the covers over himself. Death was there again, leaning against the railing. "No," he responded absentmindedly. His eyelids began to droop heavily. "Not a clue." With not so much as a breath, Vegeta's head sank softly to the pillow, lost to the world of dreams. The masked being remained for a moment longer…

And then he was gone.