I wake freezing cold. I tuck my legs into my chest and shiver, looking around for my blanket.

On the floor is my blanket, along with the idiot with his. I groan and reach my freezing leg down to stomp on his chest, hard. He sits up with a start, looking around with messy hair and a flushed face.

"Give me my fucking blanket, Kakarot," He's laying there, confused and curled up into a nest with both blankets.

"Wuh?"

I sigh, exasperated, and rip a comforter out from under him. He knocks his head on the floor and I hold back a chuckle.

"That wasn't very nice," He complains, but I just turn over and cover myself, relishing in the already warm blanket.

Kakarot's scent hits my nostrils and I recoil, wanting to run away from it and roll in it at the same time. I feel my face heat up, and I dash out of bed into the bathroom, my bare feet slapping against the kitchen floor.

I slam the door shut and stare at my face in the mirror.

I scowl, running my hands over the pink cheeks.

I pull my gloves off and wash the sweat from my palms and splash the cold water over my face and neck, hoping to calm the redness down.

Why does his smell, of all things, do this to me? This is Kakarot... I can't let him get to me.

He's a third class... He doesn't deserve my time, let alone my admiration. I groan while drying my hands and pulling my gloves back on.

Leaving the bathroom, I decide to make myself some cereal. I go through the motions while calming down, yawning and stretching whatever arm I'm not using. Kakarot is still sleeping on the floor, a black lump moving up and down with his breathing. I shake my head as I munch on my sandwich, trying not to find him adorable.

It doesn't work, of course. All I can see of him is the tips of his toes and a bit of his hair sticking out everywhere. I brush my hands together and walk back over to my bedside table. My feet find their way into my ratty socks and new boots.

Walking out to the abyss, I see the weather fading into a tundra the farther back you go, and I assume that this is the cause of my being freezing, aside from my blanket being stolen. I step out, feeling my weight increase slightly with the multiplied gravity.

Kicking and punching against the resistance of the gravity, I find myself wishing I had something rock solid to punch. Something like Kakarot.

Sighing, I touch back down onto the floor and march into the housing area, kicking Kakarot awake. He starts again, sitting up abruptly and squinting up at me with tired eyes.

"Wake up, we're sparring."

He yawns, stretching his arms way above his head. I scowl as I notice the tips of his fingers reach my neck while he's just sitting.

I walk away, frustrated, "Get dressed and meet me outside," I step back down into the training area, resuming the useless training.

A few minutes later, Kakarot walks out, only dressed in his gi, hair still messy and feet still bare. He waves over to me, covering his mouth in a yawn. I touch down, scoffing, "Are you going to take things seriously today, Kakarot? You're so lazy."

"Yes, Vegeta," He yawns again, "I notice by watching you fight that you tend to stay back when you can and use ki blasts. I thought that maybe we could train each other because I'm the opposite."

"Oh, using your brains, huh, Kakarot?" I cross my arms and give him a side eye.

He shrugs, cocking his head to the side dismissively, "It was just a thought."

I scoff, "You have those?"

He shrugs again lowering into an offensive position, leaning in such a way that his openings are covered, "I guess so. Are we gon' spar now?"

I lower down with him, smirking, "Of course."

We pounce into a fight at the same instant, dodging each other and landing on the opposite side.

Kakarot blinks slowly, fighting off sleep, "Geeta, I'm still really tired. Can I sleep some more?"

"Absolutely not, Kakarot. You said you'd help me in hand-to-hand, and I expect you to keep that promise. So wake the fuck up and fight me," I lower back down and glower, waiting for him to initiate the fight again.

He lunges, and I dodge his first punch, blocking the second. I grasp his fist and run under his uplifted arm, coming at him from behind and landing a solid punch to his lower back. He arches, gasping for breath. I release his hand, letting him gain his composure. He turns, baring his teeth and grasping my shoulders, flipping over me and using his momentum to bring me over his head and smash me onto the ground. I feel a stinging pain in my nose, but ignore it. I lean my head up and see fresh blood smears next to brown oxidized ones.

Kakarot's blood mixed with mine, creating a heady smell of each of us. I groan with a combination of aching and want. I tuck my head into my chest, all but screaming.

"Vegeta?" Kakarot places a hand on my shoulder. I can't bring myself to shake it off.

I keep yelling.

"I didn't mean to hurt ya that much, 'Geeta. Here, let me help you up," He pulls my arm from under me, holding onto my wrist as he hoists me from the floor.

I chuckle when I see my own blood in my periphery under my nose, dripping into my mouth. I taste the iron as I spring onto Kakarot, hitting him over and over with a barrage of punches to his face. He takes it like a champ, only hissing when my fist makes solid contact with anything around his eyes. He's on his back, his head thrashing every which way with every hit I put him through.

Blood sprays from his mouth and nose, his head flying up at a strange angle, then he lie still. I pause for a moment before cold fire flies to my nerve endings and I panic, tossing him over my shoulder, and running back into the housing area.

I've killed the damn idiot.

I throw him onto the floor and sprint to the pantry where I see a jar of senzu beans. I grab one and rush back over to Kakarot.

He's sitting up and chuckling to himself, staring at me over his shoulder.

"I thought you wanted to kill me, 'Geeta. Why'd ya panic that bad, huh?" He rubs his right tricep with his left hand, smiling brightly.

"You really thought you snapped my neck, huh? You should know I don't go down that easy, haha!" He closes his eyes and leans back on his elbows, laughing quietly to himself.

"Anyway, 'Geeta, you're covered in blood. You should really get cleaned up."

I stand there, useless and staring. I feel relieved and furious simultaneously. Relieved because Kakarot survived, and furious because he survived.

He gets up and strolls over to me casually, grabbing me by my wrist and pulling me gently into the bathroom.

Kakarot guides me down to take a seat on the toilet, grasping my shoulders. I stare at his neck.

I motions for me to stay put before leaning down for a washcloth to dampen.

I watch him as he turns the water knob and holds his finger under the stream to test the temperature. I feel like I'm being cared for genuinely, for the first time in a very long time.

He turns to me with a concerned smile. I watch closely as his hand comes near my face, turning it from side to side to inspect the damage. All of me is screaming to back away from his touch, but my body refuses to cooperate.

His other hand comes slow to my chin, gently washing away the dried blood.

He gradually works his way up to my broken nose, barely touching my face.

I feel frustrated with the unnecessary gentle way his hands move over my skin, but I can't bring myself to insult him because his worried eyes scanning over my damaged, bloody face and his careful hands steal my breath and I'm left blankly staring at him.

For someone as old as he is, even for a Saiyan he looks young. His plump cheeks stick out quite a bit from the sharp curve of his chin, and his eyes hold so much sickening innocence I find it hard to hurt him sometimes.

I am ashamed at my lack of resolve, and how even his tiny smile makes me pause for a moment.

Kakarot backs away from me, inspecting my face. He decides one spot needs to be touched up, but I find the strength to back away before he can reach me.

"Kakarot, I'm just fine. Stop."

He pouts a little, slowly putting the cloth down.

"You're not even clean yet," He sticks out his lower lip, trying to make me concede.

"I don't care, Kakarot, you're filthy, too, you know. Maybe you should clean yourself and leave me alone for a bit, huh?"

I stand a leave the room, refusing to listen to his banter anymore.

I change myself and fix up the laundry, pulling out Kakarot's slightly stained gi. The usual fluorescent orange is dulled in the front and the dark blue looks a little more purple than before. I sigh and toss it in the washer, not wanting to inspect Kakarot's clothes anymore.

I peel my spandex off and toss it in the washer to be cleaned later. I stroll to my own bed, half naked, and dress myself in casual clothes, assuming Kakarot wont want to train any more for the day.

While crouching to get a pair of sweatpants, I peer at the little bag I brought the capsules in.

The deep blue bag is hard to see in the dark, but the red fabric sticking out of it attracts my eye.

I hear the shower start in the bathroom.

I have a little time.

I reach under the bed and pull the bag out, dumping its contents onto the bed. My cape unfurls and reveals the lockbox, the capsule packs, and an extra pair of starch white gloves.

I pull one of my gloves off and feel the plush fur of the collar, a typical white one with little black spots here and there.

All the years I've had the thing, it's still the softest material I've ever touched. In a burst of reminiscing, I swing it over my shoulders and tie the little strings in a bow. I feel the familiar weight of it covering my entire body. I waltz around a small bit to feel the air billow under near my back. I feel my posture improve immediately, my confidence in my role as king reigniting as I run a light hand over the marble countertop.

I look at my reflection in the refrigerator door, being proud of my appearance for once. I hear the shower stop, but the lack of sound doesn't register until Kakarot is opening the bathroom door. I whip around, shocked into motionlessness. Kakarot turns from the bathroom and stares at me, clutching onto the towel wrapped around his waist.

"Vegeta?"

His voice brings me back into consciousness, and I sprint over to my bed, my cape untying and thumping to the floor loudly.

Kakarot's confused voice floats over to me as I watch him bend over and pick up my cape, still holding his towel together.

"Vegeta? What's this?"

I snatch the cape from him as soon as he's within arms reach, "Get dressed, you idiot!"

He shrugs and calmly walks over to his own bed, dropping his towel onto the floor.

"So what're ya doin', Vegeta? Is that a blanket or somethin'?"

"No! Idiot!" I shove the cape into the folds of my canopy.

"Then what're ya doin?" He asks again as he peers around the corner, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

"It's my cape God damn it! Why do you care so much?" I shove him back by his shoulders.

"I don't. You just seemed real upset when I saw you."

I sit down onto my bed, feeling the red fabric between my fingers, "It's none of your business anyway, Kakarot."

He sweeps the curtains aside, revealing his fully dressed form, "All I'm sayin' is that it looked nice on you, if ya let me get a word out."

I shoved him away again, face heating, "Shut up!"

I hear him sit on his own bed, probably pulling on a pair of socks.

"How long have you had it?"

I know his questions are coming from nothing but curiosity, but I panic a little anyway.

"Once I was big enough to wear it, about nineteen." I finger the fabric again.

"You're a few years older than me, aren't ya?" I hear his feet hit the floor and walk over to the kitchen area.

"I'd say so," I grow annoyed, wanting to not talk about age and time.

"I was twenty-four when you landed, I remember because I had Gohan with Chi when I was twenty," He comes back into my canopy with a tall stack of the frozen dinners, dumping them onto the bed and opening them, eating them frozen with a little fork he held in one hand.

I grimace, "I hope you don't expect me to condone this."

He looks up, his mouth full, "Hmm?"

I shake my head, ignoring him, "Twenty is a bit young for a child, isn't it?"

He shrugs, swallowing.

"I don't think so. Gohan had Pan when he was twenty-four. Geez, I got married when I was sixteen."

"Sixteen?! Dende, Kakarot, how did that happen?"

I am too taken aback to keep my fake persona of annoyance. It feels good to let go every once in a while.

"I met Chi when I was 12, so we knew each other for a while before being married. Her dad was really excited for us to get hitched. He actually ran through a burning building just so we could."

"That's the Ox King, right?" I sit up and cross my legs, pulling my cloak out from under me.

"Yeah, he's a real nice guy. He always gets lots and lots of stuff for the boys and Pan when it's their birthdays. Anyway, we hadn't seen each other for four years, and then we met at the World Martial Arts Tournament, and she got real mad at me because I had promised to make her 'my bride' but when I was little I didn't understand what it meant."

I nod, following his fast words with interest.

"But then after we fought, she explained to me that I promised to marry her, and I felt so bad about not keeping the promise that we practically got married on the spot."

I lean forward, peering into the emptying container, "So you married her out of obligation? Because you made a promise?"

He nods, swallowing another mouthful, "I guess so, but I do love her,"

My heart sinks a little.

"But over the years, she really has started to age. I'm surprised she let me leave."

"She doesn't know, Kakarot."

"Oh, yeah. I guess she wouldn't have been okay with it, huh? I kind of feel bad for lying to her."

I uncross my legs and take his empty containers over to the garbage, tossing them in with little ceremony. I come back and assume my previous position.

"So you don't like that she's aged?"

He shrugs, "I don't know, I don't think it's necessarily the fact that she's old, but she doesn't have the endurance she used to, it's really no fun."

"You and Chichi are the same age, aren't you?" I pull the cape out and cover my legs with it, becoming chilly.

"Yeah, but, like you said, we don't age for a long time. She's just a human."

Hearing Kakarot use terms to describe humans as if they are different for once, makes me proud. He's finally accepting that he is different.

"So what do you mean by 'endurance'?" I run a thumb over the velvet.

He glances up at me, face reddening, "You know, like, stuff. It's no fun when, you know."

His sudden shyness tips me off on his meaning and I nod in agreement, "Humans are no fun because we can't let go. It's normal to not be satisfied with her."

He looks up again, despite his shameless blushing.

"You have the same problem?"

I shrug, shy myself, "I guess so, my goal with Bulma was to have children, to extend the bloodline, you know?"

"You married Bulma out of obligation, then?"

I shook my head at his misunderstanding, "No, not exactly. It was more of the fact that she was a strong human, and I knew she would be able to go through the childbirth without having much trouble. I knew I could trust her with my children, regardless of the half-human in them."

Kakarot nods, silent. I continue.

"That's why we eloped. We didn't have a big party purely because I told her I didn't want one. She wanted to get married before having kids, and that's purely why I allowed any sort of legal connection between us."

I pause, ashamed at my own words, "I do love my children, but more and more I wonder if they were worth it. Worth marrying her, I mean."

Kakarot looks at me, puzzled, "Are you saying you don't love her?"

I shook my head, closing my eyes, "I don't really know, Kakarot. She cares for me and provides for me, but I don't know if I can truthfully say that I could or would do the same for her. It's a complicated relationship, if you can call it that. I see her as more of a close friend than my wife."

He nods, opening another container, "I get ya. I guess I just feel guilty, ya know? Neither of us feel any sort of, I don't know, romantic connection, I guess."

I hoist my cape over my shoulders, covering my entire front, "You're so articulate, aren't you?"

He shrugs, taking the last bite of food and sliding out of my bed. I hear him pad over to the garbage can.

I lay back down, turning onto my side. Soon, he pokes his head back in.

"I thought we were done talking about our wives," I open my eyes and give him a strange look.

"We are. But I like talking to you when you aren't being mean." He crawls in and sits cross-legged at the end of the bed, careful not to get too close to me. Part of me is flattered that he is sensitive about my discomfort with physical contact, but at the same time I want him to shamelessly curl up beside me and talk about my eternal life and my previous lovers and friends and how the collaborators locked me away.

I want to talk to him about all of these things, but all I get out is, "Don't get used to it."

He shrugs sadly, putting his head in his hand.

"I won't."