Vegeta trudged up the path, feeling the rock bite into his feet through the thin boots he wore. He could have flown, but that would have made the trip to quick, and he wanted time, time to think.

"Why, Kakarot?" he quietly sobbed, "Why did you leave me to this wretched place?"

Cell had come and gone. After five years of grueling training, the fight was over. When it was his turn to be put to the test, he failed without even bothering Cell, and then had been swatted aside like a biting insect. All of his efforts were useless, and he wasn't needed anymore.

Vegeta stopped on the path, ahead of him was the object of his climb, what he had taken his time to get to. The object held no value, had no weight or limits. It was the view. A thing so abundant as the scenery, and yet the Saiyan Prince had exerted his body and tired himself for it. He didn't gain anything from it, his life had not been made easier, or his strength stronger, and yet he stood there on top of the world, looking at all those who didn't do any productive unproductive things.

They simple go about their lives, and it seems to be enough for them, he thought, looking down at the city, Kakarot understood them, but how can I?

He turned and looked back. The gentle rising slope behind him and the shear cliff in front. Vegeta's mind wandered where it had no business being. What would it be like to step off? Just fall until I hit the sharp rocks at the bottom? I would never have to worry about anything again. Defeating Kakarot, taking my rightful throne. Raising a family, fighting for life, all of that could disappear in one step.

Vegeta stood six feet from the edge and completely lowered his ki. Now I'm just like everyone else on this planet. Six feet in front of him stood death, turning around meant life.

Vegeta sat down on the edge of the cliff. Now all I would have to do is lean forward or flex my legs. I would go down. I wonder which rock I'd land on? Or maybe I'd hit a tree, or the nice soft dirt. I wonder if I could make it to that lake? Fifty points to land on that deer!

The thought hit him so fast it was amusing, but the laugh turned bitter, the echo came back twisted and mocking. Joking about death! He wanted to reprimand himself for it, but could think of no reason why. It's just natural to respond to fear with a joke.

He leaned forward, balancing on the edge. The slightest breeze could push me off if I was caught unaware. He could see right underneath him, sharp rocks and bushes all scattered in a crowd. Could I grab onto a bush and maybe get a few strawberries to eat on the way down? Maybe I could jump high enough to grab hold of a cloud and sail away to India or wherever.

Vegeta lowered himself down the edge of the cliff, facing the rock and holding on with just his fingers. If I sneeze, I'll fall. He could see the little bugs crawling through the cracks in the rock, feeding on the bushes that stick out, giving a person one last chance to live. Would I be welcome in the afterlife, even though I committed suicide? Curiosity killed the cat is not a very good case to bring before your final judgment.

Vegeta hoisted himself back onto the ledge. To many questions to die on. He leaned back against a tree, looking not at the scenery, not at the ground he was standing on, but at the line between. He looked closer and closer, trying to find the exact point of no return. On side of it, life. On the other side, death. He had been crossing over that line the whole time, but never fully; that was the only thing keeping death at bay. Sometimes my fingers were my only saviors, but they were enough. I guess you have to be in it all or nothing, no one else is going to make the decision for you. Only I can, but not today.

Vegeta walked back.

New short stories series by me, Eggamagga, AKA Brad. More of an angst/drama scene to this one. This one is just the start; so let me know what you think.