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To Vegeta, it was as if the sun had not risen in the sky that morning. He found himself in internal darkness. Setting a boot on the door step was haunting, reminiscent of all those years before when he was a stranger invited to stay by the scientist's narcissistic daughter. Whis's staff was poised, hidden behind his back.
"Remember, not a word more than necessary Vegeta. Bring me something that he is connected to, like we talked about."
Whis cautioned him with a single finger. His glossy lilac eyes hardened under the soft rays of the sun. His lips became speechless; a graceful smile returned to his dark lips. Vegeta managed a stiff nod before he passed through the thresh hold of the door.
"Something that speaks of his spirit…", Vegeta grumbled under his breath for he knew where he would have to go.
What else could be hidden behind your back?, Vegeta thought.
His dark irises ventured away from the corners of his pensive eyes. The handle of the door left his fingertips in silence. He was certain that she would hear him. He absently stared at the venting column in the center of the spiral staircase.
What a useless design…
He stepped through the wall of the door less pneumo tube trying to remember the last time anyone had used the metallic steps. The column of gel reminded him of silk spun spider webs, leaving a residue on the skin.
Spiders are gross daddy.
"Third floor", he murmured in the tube. A column of air pushed the plate underneath his feet. The stair case was no longer empty in his mind.
"Wait for me!", she demanded. He watched her blue shadow bob along the rim of the steps as she climbed down. He always waited for her with his arms crossed; ready to remind her that there would be absolutely no flying indoors when she grew bored of the tedious descent.
Vegeta stalked off of the pneumo tube. His shoulders slumped as he thought of where she could be in the east end of the third floor of the complex. She would be preoccupied with one of her latest inventions of fancy, if she managed to get out of bed at this time of the morning. Vegeta turned his head away, almost out of routine as he counted his paces, knowing that the path would take him right by his bedroom. The odor of his skin always filled his nostrils. Nothing had been moved or touched, not even the pile of dirty clothes.
"You're just like your mother!", he scoffed, unable to keep his head turned any longer.
His eyes drifted into that dark room. The shades had been pulled since that day. The comforter was pulled back, tangled on the end of his bed. Vegeta pushed the door open with his closed fist. The door knob thumped into the sheet rock wall. His arm remained firm on the panels of the open door. Tiny wrinkles were spread across the dark blue bed sheet, leading to a rounded indention on the edge of the bed. The last place that his son may have ever sat….
He hoped to be able to spare himself from his torture. Not wanting to waste a minute he plucked something small off of Trunks' wooden desk.
"Vegeta! There you are!."
Her soft voice tickled the lobes of his ears. He turned on his heels and slammed the door behind him. The tips of his dark lashed tickled his cheeks when he closed them. Droplets of sweat formed on his unruly brows. His startled nerves nearly crushed it.
"I've been looking for you woman. I'm leaving, but I will return."
"Wait, What? Not Now! I think we can use the dragon radar to talk to trunks. I retro-programed it to work kind of like a radio."
Vegeta gently pulled the radar from her small hands without making eye contact.
"I'm leaving with Whis."
"You're training at a time like this!"
"Do not block my exit. I am leaving."
His words were forceful and sharp; Bulma swore that he could bite with his tongue. Her attention drifted beyond him, like he was standing afar.
"Bulma", he looked up at her from the radar. Those five little letters grabbed her attention. They were so rare, nearly like humility in his coarse voice.
"Do not meddle, just trust me woman.", he finished.
Her ears burned and scarlet settled on her cheeks. Her balled hands trembled on her hips, but she slowly let go unclenching her fists. She would have to let him go…
She froze when the edge of his nose brushed her cheek. He pressed his lips against hers. It would appear to be an awkward attempt at a kiss to the untrained eye. Bulma understood the pressure of his lips. Her heart fluttered at the very gesture, the thought of it alone was enough to make her melt away. She left a print of her red lipstick on his high cheek bone as he pulled away from her.
Vegeta knew better than to keep Whis waiting. He was quick to meet him outside.
"This may be useful to you. Bulma thought she had used it to communicate with the boy."
Vegeta offered the radar to whis carefully.
"This may make is easier to pinpoint where he was last, but I still need a marker for him."
Vegeta carefully unfolded his hand. It was a tiny bird, born from the recesses of his intelligent son's colorful yet somnolent and often dark imagination. An origami owl rested in the palm of his hand, made of aged black paper. He was careful not to snag its dainty wings between his fingers. A wicked smirk emerged on Whis's face as he examined its red eyes.
"Proof that all races of people are capable of making such lovely things. Saiyans are so volatile; it is instilled in you from birth. It is evident, even in a hybrid like your son. Even the most meticulous works of the hands of your people are fierce. However, you are not a race of savages. This will do nicely. I can locate the dark spot in his energy."
The paper owl flaked away, sucked into the glass ball on the end of the yellow staff.
Whis stood like a relic at the garden gate, still and untouched by time itself, at least in Goku's mind anyway. Goku only saw Whis's back as he approached the massive building ahead. His presence at the Brief's residence could only mean one thing. He was going to miss an opportunity for training if he did not move quickly. Whis withdrew his staff from behind his back. A wave formed in the dry grass as the ground pulsated below it. Goku ran as fast as his legs could carry him; his feet were barely making contact with the ground.
"Wait! Wait for me!", he yelled.
Vegeta wrapped his gloved hand around the glowing staff. Goku was just a breath away from them. He reached for Whis's back with the palm of his hand. Whis brought his sharp chin to his shoulder. His Wisdom left him in that moment. His eyes bulged becoming pale saucers as Goku collided with them.
"Goku-san!", Whis yelled.
"Kakarrot No!"
Only the echo of Vegeta's voice remained. The wind carried what remained of their energy. Blue glimmering sparks of their presence floated in the sun drenched air. A spiral of scorched grass was the only evidence that they were even there.
