Almost immediately upon arrival, Vegeta had located and virtually taken up residence in a ship nearly identical to Kakarot's, complete with its intensified gravity simulations. No one troubled themselves to go near the gravity chamber, as no one had any particular desire for his company. He did not mind the stillness. Tranquility had not characterized much of his life, and he appreciated the change. According to similar logic, he had welcomed some aspects of extended space travel.
For once, he had near total command of his life, choosing when to rise and what to do each day. Some could think him caged, spending most of his waking hours holed up in the gravity chamber, straining his body to incredible extremes. But it was not so to him; no one—not Frieza, not Captain Ginyu, and not anyone else—needed to know his activities and whereabouts. Vegeta rarely felt as lonely as other people might. Others merely infringed upon his mind, his time, and his space; it took enough effort already just to hold his ideas and memories together inside one brain.
He spent the whole one hundred and thirty Earth days this way, saying maybe a few dozen words every few days. Bulma and her mother would occasionally bring him something to eat or greet him on the way to his bedroom—if he had not decided to spend the night in the gravity chamber, that is.
On the one hundred and thirty-first day after his return, he kept a close eye on Bulma and the Namekians. Perched on the balcony of Capsule Corp., he watched them gather the balls together and wait for Gohan's arrival. Kakarot would return, and Vegeta would show him the worth of a Saiyan warrior. Now he had done Kakarot's gravity training and more.
The skies blackened, and Porunga sprung out of the darkness. Vegeta's heart rate sped up very slightly as a predator might once he had spotted his prey. He couldn't hear the voices of Dende, Gohan, and the others, but the dragon's rumbling tones echoed into the earth and shook it.
"I cannot return the one called Goku to you!" Porunga roared. Why? Vegeta swore the Namekian dragon did not have the same limitations as Shenron. His heart sank.
"He cannot be brought back, for he is not in Otherworld. He is not among the dead, and he does not want to return to earth. I cannot go against his will."
So, Kakarot had escaped after all. Vegeta knew immediately that his fellow Saiyan would have found some incredible place to hone his skills, and this fact enraged him. In all likelihood, the bastard had surpassed him yet again. At least in Otherworld, Kakarot had nothing new to learn, but nobody knew what arcane powers foreign worlds had to offer. Vegeta's mind snapped, and he leapt from the balcony, rushing toward the ship equipped with the gravity chamber. He would find Kakarot.
"Vegeta!" Bulma's voice—nothing could be more irritating at the moment. "Where are you going?" A scream of the word "Kakarot" was her only reply, if she could call it that. Within ten minutes, Vegeta had prepared the ship for launch, ignited the engines, and disappeared into the atmosphere.
Once beyond the influence of Earth's gravity, he sat down on the floor, legs crossed and his face turned toward the ship's main window. He couldn't even begin to guess where Kakarot might have landed, so he had no directional leads apart from his own ability to sense energy. By remaining still and streamlining his consciousness, Vegeta figured he could amplify the range of his sensory capabilities. He would remain motionless doing this for hours at a time, pausing only to train, sleep, or eat.
Within the first few days of his pursuit, Vegeta came to realize that this was his first time completely shut off from contact with others. Everyone he may have wanted to speak with while on a long journey was dead. Because he did not often talk to himself, weeks of absolute silence might pass. It reminded him of the time shortly following Frieza's destruction of Planet Vegeta—how the urge to contact his father or his few friends would bring him to the sudden realization that the attempt would never again yield a response. Before, Nappa had served only the purpose of attending on him, but sometimes Vegeta would make small talk with him out of sheer loneliness. At the time, he had found the feeling of isolation foreign, and he surprised himself at how empty he actually came to feel.
Approximately two weeks into his journey, someone interrupted his meditations by contacting him via the onboard satellite communication system. Bulma's face flashed onto the screen, and because he was in such an odd state of mind, a deep sensation of relief counteracted his compulsive misanthropy towards Kakarot's friends. Instead of a scowl, Bulma caught Vegeta with an expression as blank as a sheet blanched by moonlight.
"You stole my dad's ship, you jerk!" she nagged, immediately following this statement with a tirade of similar accusations.
Vegeta said nothing; he could not decide how to respond to her, as he had not himself decided if he was happy to talk to someone or annoyed that she had broken his focus.
"Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"
"I have to find Kakarot," he finally said, flatly.
"Yeah, yeah. I know—the obsession with Goku. You could at least ask to borrow the ship before you go next time. You could have told somebody when you're planning to head back too."
"I might never come back!" In truth, he had not really thought what he would do once he found (or failed to find) Kakarot.
"Sure." She paused for a moment. "Hey, do you have enough food and water up there?"
"About three months' worth. But what's it to you, woman?"
"I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't starve or freeze to death or something. If the fuel tank was full when you left, you should have about three months to go on if you're smart about it. Just so you know, you're welcome to come back when that time's up."
Vegeta sighed crossly. "You interrupted me."
"Well, sorry. You can go back to whatever the hell it was you were doing now. I was just checking in on you. You can contact me or my dad if you need anything. Just look at the call history on the panel to your right. It's easy enough to figure out."
He stared blankly. Nothing worth saying had come to his mind.
"Bye, Vegeta." The screen went dark.
Silence again. If he was honest with himself, he would have admitted that he was glad that she had pursued him, that he had interacted with another person. But since he felt conflicted about the whole idea, he swiftly shut down any emotion, whether positive or negative. He couldn't be bothered with such trivial anxieties.
Author's Note: Hi, this is your friendly neighborhood flamingpoetic here! Comments, suggestions, and constructive criticism are always appreciated. I guarantee a response to every question or review. I love to proofread and edit, so if you want a second pair of eyes on your work, I'd be happy to see what I can do for you. Just send me a message, tell me what you would like me to take a look at, and we'll work something out. Happy reading and writing, my fellow creative people! I'm having lots of fun with The Mistaken Wish—I hope you are too.
