Thank you for the reviews, GokuBootz, Lon Wolfgood and catgirl26 (I confess I spent probably too much time choosing surnames for everyone). I would accuse you of giving me a big head, but I think I already have that covered XD. Thank you also to anyone who is reading but not reviewing, I hope you enjoy the story.

Okay I lied last time v_v the fox murderer thing isn't in here. I deleted about 6,000 words of slush that originally came before this point.

Chapter Three: A Band Of Wild Badgers

"What's wrong?" Goku whispered, leaning over so far he nearly fell out of his chair.

"Piss off, Goku." Krillin hissed. "I'm trying to do my prep."

"What's wrong, though? I didn't even see you at dinner at all." Some of the other students were giving him dirty looks and he was amazed at how disciplined and serious they were. The first night, prep had been presided over by the housemasters for both the senior boys' and girls' residential houses, Roshi and Baba respectively. Roshi had spent most of the time patrolling near the girls with the largest chests, trying to look down their tops. Since then, however, the prefects had been responsible for keeping the peace on their own, at the same time as doing their own work. Despite the lack of anyone ready to enforce punishment for misbehaviour, the lower sixth was quiet and studious. It was weird.

"Goku just shut up. I'll talk to you after."

Spurned, Goku returned to his work sulkily. He didn't lose a moment after they were excused before accosting Krillin on his way to the common room.

"So. What's up?"

Krillin sighed, and ran a hand over his smooth scalp. "Basically, I'm a dead man."

"Why? Is there something I can do?"

"No, no. You remember I was telling you about Chichi and the drama society, right?" Goku nodded. It had been a couple of hectic days ago, but Chichi was so far the only person to burst into convulsive sobbing in front of Goku since his arrival. It was memorable. "Well, Pixie—you don't know her—finished counting the votes so we had a meeting at elevenses today to announce the captain." Goku was getting bored with this story, but he did his best to look wide-eyed and alert. The result was a touch crazed, but Krillin didn't notice. "So, long story short, The Chairman isn't chairing."

"That's a good thing, though, right? Because you don't like her?"

"Looks like a lot of people don't like her, because somehow I've ended up with the job."

"Hey, congratulations. That's good news." Goku thought he'd rather be eaten alive by scorpions, if that was an actual thing scorpions did to a person, than captain a dramatic society, but apparently theatre was fun for Krillin. Goku supposed Krillin was probably hoping to meet a lot of aspiring actresses. Like how Oolong took art, but with less groping.

"Not really. Even if Mao wasn't going to slaughter me at the first opportunity, I just don't want to captain the society. I'm happier just helping out, you know? I'm not a born leader, or at least not a born organiser. It's tedious."

"So step down. I'm sure Chichi had the next most votes."

"No can do." Krillin shook his head. "If I step down now, she'll think I did it out of fear for her and she'll also think I'm disdaining the position she's coveted for so long. My life is hell whether I captain or not."

Goku sighed. "Maybe you should just talk to her about it. I'm sure she can't be as bad as all that. You'll be able to work something out." It seemed simple to him. Chichi wanted to be captain, Krillin didn't want to be captain. Solution? Chichi be captain, Krillin not be captain. Easy.

"Ever the optimist, Goku. Would that I had your way of looking at things."

They stayed in the common room for an hour, watching TV, but at eleven Krillin looked at the clock and explained that he ought to get working, now that he was a society captain, and had headed off to his room. Goku didn't know any of the boys left in the room and, while he could have made some new friends, it seemed easier to work on the one he was already trying to cultivate. He headed back to his room.

Vegeta wasn't there, which was strange. The only two places to go and relax at this hour, as far as Goku knew, were the common room or your bedroom, and he wasn't in either. On the other hand, Goku hadn't ever really seen Vegeta relax, so he was probably just studying feverishly in one of the libraries. Goku considered trying to find him, then considered snooping around. Snooping seemed like the best option, especially when Vegeta's laptop was sitting, closed, on his unbearably neat desk. It was a temptation Goku couldn't resist. It was definitely the right thing to do. He sat down in Vegeta's chair and flipped open the computer, disappointed to discover it had a password on it. He closed it again and started rifling through the drawers instead.

He was interrupted by the sound of the doorknob turning. Goku flew out of the seat and attempted to affect a nonchalant pose, leaning against the wall and whistling tunelessly.

"What happened here?"

"Why, whatever do you mean?" Goku asked in a too-high voice. "I have just been leaning against the wall and whistling a merry tune, which is what I always do in my free time as I'm sure you would know if you had known me for more these past few days, which surely constitute the longest period of my life in which I have not engaged in my favourite pastime of leaning against a wall and whistling a merry tune."

"No, Kakarrot, what happened here." Vegeta gestured irritably at his desk, which Goku just now realised he had left in a state of utter disarray, with the drawers hanging open and many of the contents strewn about the floor.

"Uhhhh." Vegeta was looking at him. He had to think fast. "Badgers!" Not fast enough.

"Badgers." Vegeta was deadpan, but didn't seem particularly angry. That was good.

"Yes, a band of wild badgers came in through the window while you were out wherever you were and they went through your drawers. I told them you would be mad, but they threatened to blow up the school if I didn't follow all their directions, because they were spying for the badger government and it was top secret and--"

"Just stop." Vegeta was massaging his temples with his forefingers and looked very harassed.

"Okay." Goku's mouth had been going faster than his brain then, anyway. He didn't know where he was going with that one. What would an hypothetical badger government want with Vegeta, anyway?

"I don't think I want to know why you were going through my possessions. Just know that if it happens again I will murder you while you sleep." He bent down and began fixing up his things. Goku didn't think help would be appreciated.

"So where were you tonight? You weren't here or in the common room."

"What I do with my time is none of your concern."

Goku sat on his bed and watched Vegeta organise his possessions according to some rules Goku suspected made sense only to Vegeta. "Were you out having fun?"

"No."

"Do you ever do anything for fun?"

Vegeta frowned. "I am a member of the mooting and debating societies, and I participate in a number of games at a competitive level."

"Those first two are just like more work generally, and working hard at games is still working hard. You just play to win, right? I want to know what you do for fun. C'mon. I'll tell you some of the things I do for fun?" Vegeta didn't say anything, and Goku took this as a sign to go ahead. "I like to play football when you aren't even keeping score and nobody knows who's on what team and it's all just a mess. I like to try new foods and then keep eating them even if they're totally gross to see how long it takes until you throw up. And I like going to the pictures if there's explosions or ninjas in the film, especially if there's nobody but you and your friends in the cinema and you can talk all the way through, and I always used to like going to hang out in the pub with my friends in town even though they wouldn't give us anything to drink, just because that's where all our older brothers and cousins used to be and it seemed so cool to hang out where they did."

Vegeta crinkled his nose slightly. "I have neither the time nor the inclination to do any of those things. I'm busy. I have more important things I have to do."

"Other people manage to do school and sports and fun things, too."

"They don't perform as effectively at the things that are important. They don't achieve everything they could."

Goku knit his brow and attempted to decipher Vegeta. For all that he was allegedly a sixteen year old boy like Goku, the way he thought and the things he valued seemed completely alien to the taller boy. He leant back on his bed. "I don't know who you are trying to impress, Vegeta. You've got all this money and smarts and athletic ability that other people would kill for, and you can't even enjoy it. Lighten up."

The glare he received in reply was enough to shut even Goku up.

Goku's first weeks at his new and very different school continued as could be expected. It was becoming abundantly clear to each of his teachers that he was not up to the same standard, academically, as his peers, but so far the answer had just been to encourage him to study hard, work together with his classmates when possible and seek tuition in his free periods, as well as during the scheduled sessions.

Athletically, things were doing much better. He had been selected for the first eleven at football, and had recorded some good running times over long distances. Having decided that his room-mate was an excellent athlete, Goku was a little disappointed he wouldn't get to go head-to-head with him any time soon. Not only did he play rugby instead of football, but his preferred distances in running were different. On the other hand, he seemed like he'd hold a grudge if Goku beat him at anything, so maybe it was for the best they didn't compete until they had a more firmly established friendship.

Goku liked his time spent at games not only because he enjoyed the physical activity and was good at it, but also because it was a chance to communicate with his classmates on something a little closer to equal footing. The conversations in class always referred back to muscle fibre innervation or the invasion of 1066 or something else that Goku could understand, but not without effort. He couldn't make the same casual leaps of logic and deductive reasoning as the other students, but he was getting used to it already. He only needed to keep reminding himself that it didn't make him stupid, it just made them clever.

But when it came to games he could talk at length and with just as much understanding as anyone else regarding tactics on the football field, or the most effective methods of training and preparing for a long run, or anything else practical and applicable to sports, including the games he was just beginning to learn. He wasn't just an equal here, he was up with the best.

Saturday, then, suited Goku. It was a more regimented beginning to the weekend than he was used to, being accustomed to waking up whenever he pleased and doing whatever he wanted on a Saturday, so long as his chores were completed before the end of the weekend. Saturdays at Orange Star College, however, were not days of complete freedom. Breakfast time was the same as during the week, and although the period between breakfast and lunch was allegedly 'free', it was in practice set aside for students to participate in their societies and extra games, or study (but they would choose study only, Goku thought, if they were a bit touched in the head). They weren't allowed to leave the school grounds with special dispensation. Goku had originally thought he might be able to leave after lunch to visit his grandpa, but was mistaken. The afternoon was set aside for fixtures until about five, and if you didn't have a match on Saturday that must mean you'd had one during the week and therefore needed to catch up a practice session.

Basically, it was an assault on his weekend freedom, but in a pleasantly athletic way.

Goku was setting aside Saturday mornings for learning tennis. He had called home upon finding out that the school had no racquets to loan out, and had been in class the following day when an outlandish car had crunched into the circular gravel drive beneath the window and Goku's father, recognisable by his hair if nothing else, had gotten out. Spotting Goku's face peering out the window, he proceeded boldly to walk through the main building until he found the right classroom. He had marched right in and waltzed past the teacher to hand Goku a wrapped tennis racquet and wish him good luck with 'all of this stuff, then'.

Everyone had stared, and Goku's ears had been bright red with embarrassment.

"Wow, so freshly minted you can smell it," one boy had said, staring straight at Goku. "Worse than the scholarships." He had laughed, then, and run his hand through his fair hair, and Goku had given up on the tentative acquaintance he had made with him.

Worse, though, was the way Chichi Mao had kept staring at him after her friend had forgotten his joke and gotten back to work. She had a very insistent way of looking at a person. It was uncomfortable.

Chichi was a tennis player. It seemed as though everyone was, at least casually on Saturdays. The uniform wasn't required on weekends, so the courts in the mornings were a dazzling array of expensive tennis kit of all kinds. Goku was already starting to learn some of the nuances of the school culture, and he could spot the difference between the old money traditionalists and everyone else here simply by what they wore. Everyone's kit was expensive (Goku felt silly for wearing his regular clothes, but the idea that money was precious and limited was so ingrained in his upbringing he couldn't bring himself to ask his parents for special tennis clothes) but where most people were clad in colourful, stylish brand-name athletic wear, the old guard wore strictly Wimbledon white.

On this particular Saturday, Goku could see Vegeta and Tarble talking to one another on a court. Both, of course, were in white. Goku had never seen the two brothers manage to find themselves in any sort of vague proximity to one another without becoming a self-contained bubble that didn't encourage visitors. He wasn't sure yet whether it was due more to Vegeta's overzealous 'protection' of Tarble, which seemed to consist mostly of not letting him talk to anyone at all, or the younger boy's overzealous clinging admiration of his big brother. Goku suspected it was a little of both. They fed off one another.

"What are you looking at?" Bulma Briefs finished adjusting her flouncy skirt and tried to follow Goku's line of sight. She had accosted Goku on the first day he'd ventured near the tennis courts, wheedling him into making up four for doubles with some of her friends. Goku had been flattered at the time, but had later realised he was probably a last resort. Not many people were game to play with Bulma, who was not above throwing violent tantrums in the face of a line call she disagreed with. Goku's willingness to bend all close calls in her favour had made him a regular part of the foursome, which otherwise varied depending upon whether Bulma and her boyfriend, Yamcha, were 'on' or 'off'.

"Oh, just Vegeta and Tarble. I don't normally see Vegeta playing anything for fun."

Bulma scowled. "I'm sure you won't today, either. The only thing Vegeta does for fun is terrorise people. He'll be coaching Tarble, because the little guy is anything but naturally athletic. Waste of time."

Goku smiled. "I didn't know you knew Vegeta. He's my room-mate."

"Goku, the school isn't big enough for me not to know someone in my own form, let alone someone I share a class with. Believe me, I do my best not to."

Although she didn't know it, Bulma had accidentally made herself a prime target for Goku's friend-gathering mission. He already considered her and Vegeta to be among his friends, so it was paramount that they also become friends with one another. Goku had never not been a part of a circle of friends who supported each other and did things together. For Goku's tentative friendships to be so scattered was a thing unacceptable. He was already working on getting Yamcha and Bulma to accept Krillin. He would leave Oolong for later. Oolong was a special case.

"Oh, he's not so bad." Goku tried to sound casual. "You just have to get to know him."

Bulma looked at him as though he were insane. "Goku, I have known that boy since I was eleven. You met him a few weeks ago. You think I'm the one who needs to get to know him?"

Goku was pleased when a familiar voice interrupted Bulma before her speech could get off the ground. "Hey Goku, Bulma." Bulma opened her mouth, probably to protest the fact that Yamcha had put Goku's name before hers, but he slung an arm casually around her waist and she seemed to decide there'd be more fun in staring dopily at him.

"You guys ready to play? I brought Maron for the fourth."

Maron waved. Krillin had once told Goku that this was an ex-girlfriend of his. Goku found it hard to believe that a girl like that would ever go out with his small bald friend, however funny and personable he might be at times. She was a classic beauty with long, slim legs and cleavage that seemed to overflow out of anything she wore. Goku had first thought she might be related to Bulma, due to the blue hair, but when seen together they looked so different it seemed silly to have ever thought they were alike. Next to Maron, Bulma looked small, pale and round-faced.

She might have been good-looking, but Maron was a truly terrible tennis player. Anything she got a racquet on went out, or straight into the net, and it clearly drove Bulma crazy that she had suggested playing 'boys vs. girls'. She wasn't a gracious loser.

About half an hour into play, Yamcha stepped back and let a shot of Bulma's go out. "Out!" he called, and settled in to continue playing. Bulma had other plans.

"Out? Out, Yamcha? Is that really what you meant to say?" He had sighed and answered in the affirmative and readied himself for an onslaught. "That was a great shot, Yamcha. I understand you don't want to lose this game, but it is both unfair and unethical to resort to cheating. Now, are you going to call the ball in?" Her voice was smooth and calm, with just a hint of the storm underneath the surface.

When Yamcha shook his head, the storm broke loose.

"Well, you can just go to hell, then!" She slammed her racquet down on the ground. Goku wondered how it took all the abuse she doled out to it, a sentiment he could probably apply to any person she had even a passing acquaintance with. "I don't know why I invited you back into my tennis group, and I certainly don't know why I agreed to go out with you again. Find someone else to go out with tomorrow, because I am just done with you! Done!"

She picked up the racquet and stalked off the court, pausing once to turn around and shout "I hate you!" Maron wavered for a little while, then mumbled an apology and loped off after her.

Yamcha shoved his free hand in a pocket and smiled ruefully. "By Wednesday, she'll have forgotten why she was angry and I'll have forgotten why I was glad to see her go." Goku felt awkward. These fights were a regular occurrence and he wished the couple would just choose either 'on' or 'off', permanently. It didn't matter which.

They traded shots lazily for a while, then retired to the shade of the nearby woods, letting someone else take their court.

"You know," Yamcha started, after a period of silence. "There are some rumours going around about you."

"There are?" Goku was caught between excitement and anxiety. On one hand, it was nice that people were taking the time to talk about him. On the other hand, it could be an awful rumour. There were plenty of rumours going around around, from the inventive rumours Krillin liked to spread about the origins of Yamcha's facial scars ("he was a professional crocodile fighter until the age of ten; scars come with the trade.", "a bear, a cucumber, a bottle of lube. You can figure it out from there.") to downright nasty rumours about what Yamcha's parents did for a living ("dirty money, say no more.", "pornography.", "drugs.", "crocodile fighting."). Goku had never believed any of those rumours, assuming the form just needed someone to be the butt of all the rumours, and Yamcha had fallen into that position at an early point.

Nonetheless, he wouldn't like for something like that to be the first thing people associated with his name.

"Yeah. I know you won't take it personally from me, since you've probably heard all the rumours about my parents already, but people are saying there's something a bit funny about you coming into all that money all at once."

Goku was horrified. People were saying those things about his family. He forced himself to laugh lightly. "That's crazy. My parents were out of my life four fourteen years until recently, so it seems sudden for me, but they've been working for it for a long time."

"Just thought you might like to know."

They sat in silence for a moment, then Goku excused himself. He needed to call his grandpa and ask him, again, where the money had come from.

Having deleted roughly two chapters worth of stuff, my buffer is a little less significant now and updates will probably be a bit slower from here, sorry! Maybe more like one a week.

Any reviews, comments, criticisms, random things you might feel like saying through the review submission process are welcome.