Chapter 10-Kuro to Kurenai no Jimu

Goku awoke at 5am, stretched, and then quietly slipped out of bed. Out of habit, he tiptoed across the room, pulled on his gi and then padded downstairs. It wasn't until after he'd opened the front door that he realized what he'd been doing.

He simply stared outside for a moment, surprised at his own forgetfulness, before slowly easing the door closed again. With the armload of fruit and snacks that he'd snatched from the cabinet a few moments before, he walked back to the kitchen table and sat down.

Hardly noticing what he was doing, he began eating his early morning snack. His bright black eyes seemed dull as he stared out the window pensively.

"Goku?"

He blinked and turned to see his wife standing in the doorway. "'Morning Chichi."

Though he wore a smile, she could tell that it was only half hearted. And she knew why, as well. She glanced at the calendar on the wall. It was the first Saturday of the month—Goku and Vegeta's usual sparring day.

She had never really liked the other saiyan much, but a part of her knew that having a sparring partner that could continue to give her husband a challenge had taken some of the restlessness out of Goku. She sometimes wondered if, were it not for these Saturday sparring sessions, Goku would disappear a lot more. It was because of that concern that she tolerated the constant broken bones and bruises, the ruined clothes and bad example he set for the boys.

She came closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders dropping her face into his permanently messy hair. "It's early, Goku. Why don't you go back to bed?"

"Nah." He said, slowly peeling another banana.

She frowned. He was even eating sadly.

His pain would pass, she knew. She'd seen him like this before when his friends died, and he always cheered up again after a few days. She still hated to see him so sad though.

There was something else that was worrying her as well. He was growing restless.

She kissed the top of his head and felt him brighten a bit. "Breakfast won't be ready for at least an hour." She told him. One of the disadvantages of having a family of saiyans was that it took a long time to cook for them.

He nodded. "That's fine."

She frowned. "Do you want to talk?"

He shook his head. "There's nothing to talk about, Chi. I'm fine. I just forgot. Y'know?"

She nodded and tightened her arms around him. "Things will turn out alright." She promised. "They always do."

Though she couldn't see it, she could tell that she'd made him smile—if only slightly.

Trying to think of something that would cheer him up, she let go and walked over to the fridge.

"Oh, Songoku?"

"Yea, Chichi?" She could feel his eyes on her back.

"Trunks is coming over later, and with what we've got now, I don't think I can feed you all. Would you mind getting some fish?"

"Sure!" He said cheerfully. She sighed in relief. "I'll take the boys too." She frowned. She knew that unless he smelled a hot breakfast cooking, Goten wouldn't wake up until at least 9. That potentially left her with over three hours of keeping Goku cheerful. She couldn't have him just sitting at the table brooding after all. The last time he'd done that, he'd somehow come to the conclusion that the world would be safer if he were dead. She wouldn't let that happen again. And she wouldn't let Goku decide that he should handle this whole dispute on his own, or get excited about the prospect of fighting the emperor of the terrible army that had been attacking them—an even more likely scenario. No, he needed to stay right here, on Earth. There were plenty of powerful warriors in the universe. Let one of them handle things for a change.

"Well you won't just sit at that table brooding all morning, Songoku." Before she realized it, she'd rounded on him with her hands on her hips.

He blinked at her in surprise. "Huh?"

She floundered for a moment. She couldn't possibly tell him everything that she'd been thinking. She may put ideas into his head, and that would do more harm than good. No, she had to come up with something fast. "Since you're not doing anything, you'll help me cook breakfast. It's about time you learned."

"Awww, but Chichi!" He whined. "We've tried this before. I'm no good at cooking."

"You do well enough with a fire and a spit." She told him. "You can learn to use the stove and oven. Go get some flower. You'll make the pancakes."

With a pitiful look that was a clear cry for mercy, he dragged himself out of his chair and over to the cabinet.

Chichi turned away, grabbing a pan out of the lower cabinet and putting it on the stove. As she reached for the bowl of eggs, she was acutely aware of the pathetic look that her husband was sending her way. She began cracking eggs and dropping them into the pan. Pretending to be looking for salt, she quickly cast a glance over her shoulder at him.

He must have seen her turning around, for his eyes had become huge and watery, and his lower lip was sticking out in a child-like pout. She quickly turned back around, swallowing a chuckle.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to keep her amusement out of her voice. "Don't just stand there." She told him. "Go get the recipe book, and get to work."

She could hear his feet dragging as he slowly shuffled across the floor to do as he was told. She didn't look at him, but she knew that he was still staring at her with those silly puppy-dog eyes and that ridiculous lip hanging almost to the floor. She rolled her eyes. How she loved that man.

Vegeta was lightly dozing when the vid screen flickered on again. He sighed lightly in annoyance, not even looking over to see what psychologist or Krimzon/GP officer wanted to bother him now. He was tired of talking to them, and was tired of those damned vid screens.

"Prince Vegeta."

That was one of the last voices he'd expected to hear.

He blinked and turned his head to look at the person who'd addressed him. "Kurenai."

She looked displeased. "Vegeta, I took the time and effort to find psychologists to help you and here I find that you're playing games with them. Bubble gum creatures? Honestly. You're behaving like a child." She narrowed her eyes in a way that demanded an explanation.

He folded his arms behind his head. "That was supposed to be confidential."

She cocked her eyebrow. "I'm the empress." She said flatly. "And I don't appreciate you wasting my peoples' time and resources like this."

"Why do you care?" He asked. He was honestly quite curious. Her debt had already been repaid. She owed him nothing. Why was she even wasting her time talking to him? Did no one in the entire Krimzon-GP conglomerate have any work to do?

She would not let herself lose the high ground so easily. She was the empress. She was in control. "Stand up and let me look at you."

"Why?"

Oh, was the boy ever frustrating!

"So I can see if my people are feeding you right."

Apparently satisfied with her response—a blatant lie—he stood. "They're feeding me nothing but banana-flavored stuff…as a joke." He said. He was so tired of everything tasting like banana. Damn that mutt!

"Hm." Was all she said.

Vegeta cocked an eyebrow at her. He was beginning to get suspicious, but he wasn't sure why. "Was there a particular reason you called?" Vegeta asked studying her face carefully.

Though he tried to hide it, Kurenai could tell that he was burning with curiosity.

"I want to know what you've done to Kuro Kon to make him hate you." The question had been eating at her, and that had only gotten worse after a rather frustrating conversation with Kuro earlier that day. "I hear a scar is involved."

He tried to look innocent, but failed miserably.

"Explain."

"Why?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Why not? I hear that it's a V-shaped scar is on his buttock? Is it something you're ashamed of? A love affair gone wrong?" She didn't believe that for one minute, but she had to think of some way to get him to tell her.

He chuckled and rolled his eyes before dropping back onto his bed.

"We ran into each other on Trinuto back when he was just a sergeant. He thought he'd arrest me…and Raditz and Nappa too." He seemed amused by the mere idea. "So we split up, and let him and his little squadron chase us around a bit. He went after me, naturally. I got him alone in a warehouse, and thought I'd…" He paused trying to think of a more delicate synonym for 'beat the shit out of' "…mess him around a little bit. He got mad and said that one day he'd catch me and lock me up in the deepest darkest cell he could find and then forget about me. So I told him that even if he did manage to catch me one day, he could lock me up where he wanted, but he would never forget me."

"So you carved a V in his ass." She said flatly. This would be such great blackmail.

"Yes."

"I see."

"Is that all you wanted to know?" He asked cocking an eyebrow.

"For now, yes. I'll leave you to your nap. Oh, and Vegeta, do be serious with the psychologists. Your sentence will depend on your sanity." With that, she cut the link, leaving a very befuddled saiyan staring at the blank wall.

"Mmm, something smells good!"

Chichi turned at the voice, just in time to see a black blur. By the time she finished turning, Goten was perfectly installed in his chair, reaching for food. "Morning, mom. Morning, dad." He said before beginning to shove things in his mouth. His parents both greeted him, though his dad's voice sounded somewhat off. Goten shrugged the fact away. "Gohan's not up yet?" He asked around his food.

"No. It's only 7, Goten." Chichi told him. She caught another glance at the watery pout her husband had been fixing her with all morning. "Oh, fine, Goku. Go eat."

"Yay!" His face was instantly fixed into his customary grin and he hopped over to the table.

Chichi followed with a plateful of sausage and calmly sat down.

"What are these?" Goten asked, making to grab for the blackened pancakes.

"They're pancakes, dear. Your father worked very hard on them."

"Oh dad made those?" That would explain why he was covered in flower. Goten's hand subtly veered off course, and he grabbed a muffin instead.

Chichi saw Goku's pout start to return and she pulled one of his pancakes into her plate. She saw him brighten and begin casting her furtive, nervous looks, all while shoveling food into his mouth. Goten glanced between his parents, wondering what was going on.

Chichi calmly cut a piece of pancake and took a bite. Goku's nervous glances increased in frequency, and she was somewhat amused to realize that he really cared whether or not his food was good.

She smiled. There was a distinct hint of a burnt flavor, but to her surprise, he had gotten the recipe mostly right. "They're very good Goku. We'll maybe put the stove a little lower next time, but you really improved."

He grinned and reached for one himself. Now that he was certain that they weren't terrible, he wasn't opposed to eating one. He wrinkled his nose a bit at the burnt flavor, but then smiled proudly at the fact that they were at least edible.

Chichi put one into Goten's plate as well, with a silent order to at least try it. The nine year old stared a little uncertainly at the pancake before picking it up and taking out a huge bite.

"Hmm…Not bad. A little butter and syrup and they're alright." He reached for a sausage and tore into it. "Mom, these sausages are great."

Chichi smiled and looked to Goku, who was positively beaming. "Your father made them."

Goten blinked. "You're kidding."

"No. The first batch was ruined, but we got it right the second time."

Goten's chewing slowed. "But…you helped, right?"

"A little." She glanced at Goku, who was happily shoving food into his mouth. His earlier sadness was apparently forgotten.

Perfect.

She smiled and went back to calmly eating her breakfast.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but Empress Kurenai is a very busy person and she does not accept visitors without an official invitation."

"But please, ma'am. It's really very important."

"I'm sorry, but the answer is still no."

He stared crestfallen at her. After hurrying all the way here, he was going to be turned away just like that? No, of course not. His father would turn in his grave. Not to mention his brother. He owed him after all.

No, this was too important to give up.

"Fine, I tried to play nice." He mumbled. "Let's try something else." He pulled himself up to his full height, which by all means wasn't very intimidating. However, flaring out his aura enough to disturb every stack of papers on every desk in the office was enough to get him the attention he wanted. The last, dramatic act was to unfurl his tail from his waist and to let it lash about behind him angrily. "I am a Saiyan Prince of Vegetasei and I demand to talk to Empress Kurenai." He narrowed his eyes. "Now! Before I get angry."

The woman before him took one look at his tail and hurriedly picked up her phone.

"I advise you against calling security." He looked around at everyone else to make sure they understood as well and then fixed the woman before him with the most threatening glare he could muster. He had never been very good at intimidating people, but sometimes the Saiyans' reputation carried a lot more weight than he did.

"M…Midori…there's a man here. A Saiyan prince, he calls himself. He's demanding to speak to Kurenai…" The woman went pale. "I know but…please…please ask her to do something…" The woman's voice was shaking, and he suddenly felt bad for frightening her so much. He glanced down at his companion with a questioning look as if asking if he should end the charade. She lent him a supportive smile. He fixed his glare back in place and turned menacingly back to the woman before him.

"Umm…sir…w-what was your name again?"

"Tarble. Prince Tarble of Vegetasei."

While the woman was relaying the information, Tarble looked down at Gure and whispered. "Wasn't that cool?"

She giggled. "Very impressive."

"Mom!" Bulma sighed loudly as her hand slipped, causing her to ruin the computer chip she'd been working on. Her son burst into the lab, his speed causing papers to fly off the table.

Shiro—still nervous around human and saiyan alike—squeaked at the sudden appearance of the demi-saiyan and quickly ducked behind the Tik ship he was trying to reprogram.

Bulma glanced at her watch. It was nearly 10am. Trunks was supposed to be at the Son house already.

"Trunks—"

"Mom, dad's on tv!"

Bulma snapped her mouth shut and then opened it again. "On…tv?"

"Yeah!" He grabbed her arm a little more roughly than he should have and started tugging her along.

"Ouch, Trunks!" He let her go with a suddenly worried look. She waved his concern away. "I'm coming. I'm coming."

"Sorry mom!" He said, and then began leading her at a quickened pace down the hall.

"What do you mean on tv?" Bulma asked.

"Umm…well Shiro watches soap operas and stuff, and so he hooked his tv up to catch intergalactic tv channels."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She thought for a moment. "And how did you know this? You haven't said a civil word to Shiro since he's been here."

"Well…" Trunks ducked his head. "I dunno."

"And what were you doing in Shiro's room, young man?" Bulma asked sternly.

"Uhh…" Trunks looked away.

"You haven't been spying on him, have you?" She'd caught him there. She could tell by the nervous way he swallowed.

"No! Of course not!" He defended. "I just…I…uhhh…"

Trunks was saved by them reaching the guest room that Shiro was currently occupying.

Bulma frowned, but she didn't comment on her son's obvious invasion of their guest's privacy. The moment they entered the room, her eyes locked onto the tv where an image of Vegeta—one from his younger days as Frieza's soldier—was displayed. Several news hosts were debating his character, and discussing his actions under Frieza. The image changed to be replaced by one of a man who looked remarkably like her husband but with brown hair and a beard. To his left was a beautiful, if petite, woman with jet black hair. A young boy was standing to the right of the man dressed in full saiyan armor.

The caption below read…

"Trunks, record this!"

He was apparently surprised by the request but quickly did as he was told.

As Trunks fumbled around to find the remote, a watery smile crept onto Bulma's face. "Oh wasn't he cute!" She felt her chest constricting, but it was such a bittersweet moment that she didn't know whether to laugh at the picture or cry about the reminder of all that had happened.

"Huh? Who?" Trunks finally pressed the button.

"Look, Trunks. That's your father."

"No it's not. Look, he's got the wrong color hair."

"No. The little boy. That's your father as a boy!" Her mind was already running through what steps would have to be taken to print that image and frame it, but she stopped and focused intently on the television when she heard the word "trial."

"Turn it up Trunks." She said somewhat dazedly as she walked closer to the tv.

"Our reports have confirmed that he is currently en route to Planet Iro where he will stand trial for manslaughter, genocide, crimes against humanity, conspiracy…" As the reporter continued to tick off the charges against her husband, Trunks turned and looked at her in confusion.

"Mom, what are they talking about?"

Bulma hesitated.

"I thought dad was a prince, mom. He couldn't have done any of that. He's a good guy. He saved the universe."

She swallowed. She didn't know what to say to that. As her brain raced to find an answer, a sudden announcement by the news caster jarred her thoughts to a stop.

"The trial is scheduled to begin Getsuyoobi, the 18th of Rokugetsu."

A second news caster spoke up. "Why, that's a week from today."

"Getsuyoobi…" Bulma repeated. "Getsuyoobi the 18th of Rokugestu."

"Mom? What's that mean?"

"I…I'm not sure." She said. "I think it's a date. Other planets must have different names for their months and days than we do."

"Oh."

"We'll ask Shiro later, just to be sure."

Tarble and Gure were led down a hall and to a large, ornately carved door.

"I'll wait out here." Gure said, giving Tarble's hand a comforting squeeze. Tarble squeezed it back and nodded. He was clearly nervous. "It will be ok." Gure assured him

He nodded again and then slipped through the door. He glanced once at the young woman standing to the right of the door. If he recalled correctly, the woman was Kurenai's right hand, Midori.

He turned to look at the rest of the room. He found himself in a large semispherical chamber. It was somewhat dark, despite the fact that there were windows covering most of the walls.

Across the room, a small, wrinkled woman stood patiently, with her hands loosely clasped behind her back. "Prince Tarble is it?" The woman said. Despite the distance that separated them, he could hear her clearly. "I remember you."

"Yes, ma'am we crossed about a year ago."

"Such manners. Nothing like your brother. I had no idea that I would be seeing both of King Vegeta's sons in the same day. What a nice surprise. I suppose I'm not mistaken in thinking that you've come here because of Vegeta."

"I…yes." He couldn't manage to raise his eyes to look at her. Instead, he stared at the floor, which was oddly enough, glowing a faint green around his feet.

"What exactly was so important to tell me that you felt the need to scare my secretaries half to death?"

"I…uhh…" He suddenly felt a bit bashful. The glowing floor changed color slightly. "I'm terribly sorry about that. I just wanted to talk to you. You see…umm…"

"Well?"

How would he go about this? He hadn't actually prepared anything to say. He supposed that he should just jump right into it. "Vegeta doesn't deserve to be sent to prison for the rest of his life."

"Oh? And what makes you think that that will be his sentence."

Tarble shrunk a bit. "Well, I've heard of the things he's done."

"So you admit he did what he's accused of, but you think he doesn't deserve punishment."

"No! He…he was forced to do all those things. He never had a choice not to! It isn't fair! He's suffered enough already by having to live through all that! You…you can't make him suffer more for it. It…it's not right! He's different now. He's calm and…" Well, not really gentle. "not…that…violent. He…he's got a family! A wife and a son. And he's finally found happiness. You…you just can't take it all away again! You…can't" The last part trailed off into a shaky whisper, and he stopped and just stared expectantly at Kurenai.

"Well I do thank you for coming here to talk to me. You've cleared up a few questions I've had with regards to your brother. Unfortunately, I've already got plans for him, and I can't be convinced to change them."

"But…" Tarble could feel his eyes watering a bit. He wasn't used to such disappointment. He had been so sure that once the facts had been laid out, Kurenai would see what a mistake she was making.

"Don't worry young prince." Kurenai said staring at Tarble's feet rather than his face.

Tarble looked at them as well. The floor was now glowing a deep blue, nearly black.

"It's not as bad as you think." Kurenai said. "Now if you will, I'm a very busy person. We'll just forget that this ever happened, and I won't mention it to security."

"I…" His throat caught, and he felt it constricting in despair. But there was nothing to be done. "Yes ma'am."

He nodded politely to her, turned and left.

"Saiyan!" Vegeta sighed loudly. For being in solitary confinement, he sure was sick of all the company he was getting.

"Yes, Kuro?" He asked, with the most bored tone he could muster.

"Stand up."

"Why?"

"So I can look at you."

An odd feeling of déjà vu passed over him. Hadn't Kurenai told him the exact same thing? "So you can see if they're feeding me properly?" He asked.

"What? What do I care if they're feeding you bananas all day?"

So he knew about that. Vegeta scowled. "No."

"What?"

"No, I'm not standing." He clarified. "I'm good right where I am." He lazily rolled his eyes to the screen to see the flustered chief staring at him with a look of undisguised hatred.

Vegeta blinked. What on earth had happened to the gloating, self-righteous Kuro that he'd talked to a few days ago?

"Fine, stay there." He mumbled something about lazy monkeys, before abruptly changing the subject. "Tell me. What role did you play in Frieza's destruction? Was it you who killed him?"

Vegeta blinked in surprise, before gritting his teeth. "No, I didn't kill him."

"But you know who did." It was a statement.

Vegeta nodded.

"Who?"

"I can't tell you that." Vegeta said.

Kuro narrowed his eyes. "Was it a saiyan?"

Vegeta hesitated. "Yes, I suppose it was. But don't ask me his name, because I won't give it to you."

Kuro seemed displeased with that, but surprisingly let the subject drop. "How long did you play traitor to Frieza?" The question was so sudden and filled with so much malice that it caused Vegeta to sit up. He narrowed his eyes and stared at Kuro Kon suspiciously. The way he said it, it sounded as though he wished that Vegeta hadn't betrayed Frieza. Vegeta suddenly felt nervous. Having his ki bound bothered him, but not nearly as much as it was bothering him now.

"Why?" Vegeta asked. "Were you secretly loyal to him? Accepting bribes and such?"

Kuro scoffed. "Of course not. I'm trying to ascertain where your loyalties lie."

"To myself, obviously."

"Were you ever loyal to Frieza?"

Vegeta thought for a moment. "No."

"Why not?"

He blinked. "Why would I be? He killed my father and destroyed Vegetasei. I stayed within his ranks because I knew he'd hunt me down and kill me if I left. Plus I had nowhere to go. And also, it was much easier to keep tabs on his power and the strength of his army if I was in the army." He paused. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"No." Kuro said. "What is your history with Kurenai? Why is she so eager to help you?"

Vegeta cocked his head. He would hardly call sending a few soldiers to Earth being eager to help him. "I saved her life."

Kuro looked honestly surprised. "Wh..when?" He stuttered. "How?"

Vegeta wrinkled his nose. The man sure was nosy, wasn't he? Vegeta wanted to clam up and not say anything, but there was something inside of him that was telling him that it was very important for Kuro to have answers to all of his questions. "I don't really remember when. I was probably around ten. Maybe twelve. I was sent with a small squadron to purge a planet—the name of the planet escapes me. Kurenai was there at the time on a diplomatic mission or something. Frieza hadn't known she was there, but she was one of his main targets and all of his soldiers knew to kill her on sight. He was afraid of the Krimzon, much like he was afraid of the saiyans." Vegeta's eyes glazed over slightly as he dredged the memory out of the darkest depths of his mind. It was one of his few shining moments, but it was surrounded by so much death and destruction, that he preferred to keep it repressed. "She'd been in the capital at the time of the purge. One of the soldiers recognized her and reported it over the scouter link. She'd escaped the explosion of the city, but I think she was too weak to defend herself. The soldier had pursued her into a forest. I tracked them down, killed the soldier and helped her escape. I got there just in time."

"Why?"

The question caused Vegeta to tense slightly. He'd almost forgotten that Kuro was still there watching him. "I told you. Frieza was afraid of her power. He thought she could defeat him one day. So did I."

Kuro stared at the man before him. Vegeta met his eyes daringly.

Kuro was the first to break eye contact. His gaze darkened and he looked away from the screen. Vegeta couldn't tell what the man was thinking. If only he'd look his way. Then he'd have some clue. Kuro didn't look back however. Without warning, and without a word, he cut the connection, leaving Vegeta alone again in his little cell with nothing but his confused thoughts to entertain him.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that. Thanks to all of you who have been keeping up with the story and, also thanks a bunch to all of you who reviewed. Your opinions and input are always appreciated, and I do take your tips into account when writing my chapters. Thanks a bunch!

A few translations:

Getsuyoobi-Monday (Japanese)

Rokugetsu- June; literally 6th month (Japanese)

jimu- business; work; duty; affair (Japanese)

Kuro to Kurenai no Jimu—The black and crimson affair; or Kuro and Kurenai's affair/business.