Discalimer: I do not own Dragonball, DragonballZ, or DragonballGT.

Chapter 3: Confronting Belia

Belia stood in restaurant. She held her thumb up and her index finger extended like a gun was in her hand. "Bring me some food, or else." She shot a small warning blast. Her Saiyan appetite was in dire need of being relieved and the smell of this restaurant had enticed her the most.

"Alright! Alright," Said a waiter. He wore a black tux and a white apron. He had a funny little mustache and his brown hair was combed over to the side. Belia sat down at a table and waited impatiently. All the eyes that were staring back at her were quite annoying. "What are you looking at?" Her enticing yet starling feminine voice questioned. Their heads immediately turned away. Her curly tail unraveled and then raveled in a different direction. When it wasn't being used, she didn't wrap it around her waist. Instead, she coiled it in a tight circle behind her back. It was rare that a Saiyan's tail was naturally curly, but hers was. Thinking about her tail, she had a random flashback of when Matto was making fun of her.

"What is that?" The Saiyan said as he saw the brown coil of a tail behind her back.

"What do you think it is?" She snapped. They were walking in circles around the blood fountain. He threw his head back and started to laugh. "Shut up!" She bossed. "It's not my fault I was born with a curly tail. I would wrap it around my waist like you, but it's not comfortable for me."

"I was just kidding, calm down." He playfully pushed her shoulder. Their eyes were both on the ground, watching their feet in front of them so that they didn't step on any spikes or trip over any miscellaneous objects that were laying around in Hell.

Suddenly, the ground got darker ahead. As if it were alive, the dark shadow contorted its shape and took up a form right before their eyes to reveal a black, misshapen demon. Her horns were red, curved like a ram's but asymmetrical, and her teeth were yellow. Her bright green eye on the right side of her face was captivated by the object in her uneven arms. She held a broken baby doll. Its eyes were made of two different buttons and a hole rendered the inside of its plastic skull open with shadows.

"What do you want?" Matto shoved Belia behind him as to protect her.

"I want to make a deal with you…" She looked up from the doll. Her voice was the strangest thing he had ever heard. It was deep and metallic sounding.

The smell of food brought her back to her the present. There were several plates of food. There was one plate that had square shaped pieces of food with red sauce all over it. Another had bow shaped objects covered in a white sauce. The greenery in a bowl led her to believe that it was a salad. Hopefully the food on this planet was just as good as it was on planet Vegeta. She dug into the red sauced plate first. The square pieces were filled with dark meat that was surprisingly good. She finished it off just as quickly as she had picked it up. Then she guzzled down the other plate. It had little pieces of white meat throughout it. Nonetheless it was equally pleasing. Lastly, she went to work at the salad. It was nothing like planet Vegeta's, but her stomach was too distraught to tell her to stop eating.

The by standers that stood around her were completely shaken by her eating habits. "I want more!" She shouted. Her demands were met as fast as the chefs could manage their stoves.

With the covers and her night gown still damp, Bulma looked around her messy room. Something had awoken her. Loud thuds and shuffling noises led her to believe someone was going through her closet. She sat up in bed and threw the covers off of herself. Over the white carpeted floors, she made her way over to her closet to find Trunks.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bulma yelled at him. His shoulder length lavender hair hid his face from sight.

"I'm trying to find dad's old Saiyan uniform." Trunks told her.

"There are newer ones in my dad's lab…" Bulma was suggesting, but Trunks interrupted her.

"No mom, the old uniform. The very first one he wore when he landed from Namek. Remember? You were the one who washed it and demanded that he take a shower. Yamcha told me all about it."

Bulma brought her hand to her chin. She wanted to know why her son wanted that smelly old thing, but she knew it didn't concern her. With age she had become more passive. "It's in a box up in our attic." She made room in the doorway so that way she could let Trunks pass her by. With every step his hair swayed back and forth and it drove her crazy. The sun began to shine in her room and it was very warm on her face. Looking back in her closet, she needed to find something nice to wear. Luckily the five year old Bulla had just walked in. She loved helping her momma pick clothes out to wear for the day. She smiled sweetly at the young girl who loved her unconditionally and who she loved unconditionally.

Dust flew into the air in a small cloud. Trunks sneezed and then continued to search through the box's contents, which was mainly comprised of blankets. "Here," He threw the old style armor on the floor at Vegeta's feet. His shiny black shoes were partially hidden by his khaki pants and his red long sleeved shirt was tucked in. The armor had a musty smell to it and Vegeta inspected it carefully beneath the light. It was authentic, not made on Earth. Inscribed on the inside was Saiyan language with the year the armor was made. "Did you want the rest, or just the under armor?" Trunks asked him.

"Are my old boots in there?"

Trunks dug around for them and then pulled out one. "Will this do?"

"Yeah son," Vegeta told him and took the old boot in his hand. On the inside were reddish brown stains from when he had gotten blisters on his feet. All the while, the same Saiyan language was written on the inside as it was on the inside of his armor. So many years had passed that he had forgotten his own native tongue. It made him wonder if he had even known it at all, since Frieza had enforced the use of the common tongue, English.

Having attained the items he wanted, he retreated back down stairs with the single boot and the armor in his hands. Just as he went to head for the Balcony for an easy take off, he saw his mate. Bulma stood with Bulla on her hip. His little girl was sporting pig tails with bows and a little pink dress. Bulma wore a light blue summer dress and diamond earrings. She had even done her makeup. He saw the question in her eyes, but he didn't answer to her. "Mind your own business woman." He snapped coldly and made his way to balcony.

It felt good to fly again. The wind was brushing through his hair and he could see everything below him. For miles West City continued. Only out in the horizon could he see where civilization met with the wilderness. There was a great amount of freedom he felt in flying. He could go anywhere he wanted and he wasn't required to stay on a road abiding the law. And, unlike being in an airplane, he could disobey air traffic control laws too.

He needed to find Belia. He needed to talk to her. Perhaps if he told her about what happened to his home planet, she would retreat back to Hell in peace. She was like a ghost, a haunting reminder of the past. Kakorot was right. He despised leaving her as an unknown factor in his life. There had to be some reason she was around.

Over tree tops and building roofs he searched for her energy. It was an exhilarating energy. One that excited him, stressed him, and saddened him. It brought back all his greatest memories and worse memories. She was his counterpart and his opposite. It reminded him of the rise and fall of Earth's ocean tides.

It was then he realized a key importance. Where was Kakorot? He was supposed to be keeping an eye on Belia, but he didn't feel that low class Saiyan's energy at all. Just then, smoke billowing from building tops filled his view. He was certain it was her. With haste, he transformed into a Super Saiyan and neared the destroyed part of West City. It didn't take long to find her either. Her laugh could be heard over screams and raging fires as she floated menacingly above.

"These creatures are pathetic!" She was enjoying herself far too much with target practice.

Vegeta yelled to her, "I have my proof, where is yours?" He dropped the boot and the Saiyan armor below, both landed a little ways below her with a thud.

She receded back to the Earth's surface and picked them up to read the inscriptions out loud in the language of the Saiyans. It was enlightening. He floated nearer to her just so he could hear her better while she spoke. Though not a single word of it registered in his brain, it was still euphoria to hear it at all.

"Well then, you were in alliance with Frieza, you traitor." She threw the items aside and they landed on top of the crumbling pavement. "Who are you?"

He was ready to tell her now. Ready to confront her as if he were talking to his whole race and confess his mistakes. "Prince Vegeta."

He paused as her eyes widened. She could see the striking resemblance now. King Vegeta, who resided in Hell, looked exactly like him. That's why this short man had looked so familiar. She was beginning to wonder if during her transfer from Hell to this planet she may have lost some of her memory. "You're kidding…" Belia was filled with disbelief. "A true Saiyan Prince would never have abandoned his people."

"Shut up! It's not like I had a choice in the matter!"

Belia gathered a large chunk of her energy into a massive ball at the tips of her fingers. "It should've been you!" She yelled.

"I've already paid my dues!" Vegeta braced himself with a counter attack by crossing his arms in front of him. "I too have been slain by Frieza!"

"Why aren't you in Hell then?" She was nearly screaming in anger. "You… You left us, coward!"

Vegeta fired his attack and her attack left her fingertips all at the same time. It ended in a large explosion that sent both of the flying backwards.

"I refuse to bow to you. You aren't a prince. A real prince would've stood with his people!" She continued, although she was weak. But since he had defeated her yesterday he could tell she had grown a little stronger. He despised the way she was talking, but like him, she had a big mouth that took some time to seal shut. "Who were those other Saiyans?" She asked. "Where were they when all of this took place?"

Vegeta explained to her that Goku was just a baby and that those boys hadn't been born yet.

"What about their mothers?" Belia asked.

"They are from this planet." Vegeta replied.

Belia acquired a large orb of Ki again. She was furious. "You make me sick to my stomach! You tainted Saiyan blood!"

At that moment Vegeta ran into her and knocked her on her back. He had jammed his forearm into her throat and it left her coughing and sputtering beneath his weight.

"How else was the Saiyan blood to be passed down?" Belia couldn't breathe to reply. "I ought to send you back to Hell right now while no one is around." Vegeta threatened her. His eyes did not lie. He hated this woman, despised her with all of his being, but he wasn't like that anymore, to kill out of hate. Bulma had changed him. Kakorot had changed him. His own son and daughter, Trunks and Bulla, had changed him. He got off of her and spat on the ground beside her.

"Let me guess, you can't kill now either?" Belia urged him on. "You're pathetic Vegeta. A true Saiyan warrior wouldn't be so soft."

Vegeta stood with his back to her now. His eyes were closed. He had talked exactly like her so long ago, believing that it was brute strength and action that determined the worth of a Saiyan. But he had been wrong. It was more than that. "You're so ignorant." He shook his head and then flew off. He had left his armor behind along with his boot that had been discarded on the ground…