Nowhere?52
I enter the room and all goes quiet. "What?" I ask, wondering why they're looking so awkward.
"Vegeta was just here," Bulma announces. No one else says a word.
Maybe they're disoriented by the smell. They must notice it too. Then again, who can't? Even to a human, death is still a strong, pungent odor. They probably don't pick up the tendrils of death, but more likely the putrid stench of decay. Like his vomit the moment I brought him back. They may not have thought much of it, but when a Saiyan retches a black, tar-like substance, it's not natural. It worries me considerably. That and the matter of time execution between us and the Earth.
"Where'd he go?" I end the pause, hoping for progress.
"I.. don't know," Bulma admits.
Fine, I'll find him myself. It shouldn't be that hard since his ki is stronger now...
Yup, he's just a bit to the South, in the garden.
I walk leisurely, wondering how to approach him. Hey Vegeta, I know you're in shock, but can you explain to me what's going on? I didn't seem like the thing to say. He seems to be nutritionally deprived, and hygienically as well. It's like he went through Hell, but one more terrifying than the one we know - a fire and brimstone kind of Hell, except the exact opposite. It wasn't pits and fire; it was flatlands, hills, and cold rain. It's odd that no one was there, except Vegeta.
Why did he think this was Heaven? And he was crying, but his explanation is so.. weird. What's wrong with him? Why did he-
My thoughts are cut off as I find the subject of my inner turmoil. Dozing in the nude, he looks so peaceful. I frown slightly, noticing that he is thinner than before, that his skin does not carry that bronze hue that it once had and his muscles are not as well defined. Still, things need to be resolved, and that cannot be done just by mere examination, regardless that his lean form does show evidence - proof - of his malnutrition. I kneel next to him.
"Vegeta," I say gently as I nudge his shoulder slightly, "Vegeta, wake up."
His eyes blink and slowly focus. He rubs his face while inhaling briskly. He stretches, yawning, drowsiness still on his features. "Kakkarot?" he murmurs. I nod. Suddenly, he snaps up. Completely aware of his surroundings, he covers his naked body while glaring ferociously at me, "Hey you! Peeping Kakkarot.. no free shows!"
My eyes widen at the prospect, "Vegeta! I'd never check you out!"
"Sure.. not intentionally, right?"
"Yes! I mean no! I mean-!"
He freezes abruptly and his expression contorts. I wish to ask him what is the matter, but I don't dare disturb him in this state. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, he turns to me, "Well, whatever. Go get me some clothes then?"
"What happened to the ones you were wearing?"
"Hey IDIOT, I guess I must've taken them off, EH?"
I make a face which I assume appears to be a cross between pouting, confusion, pain, and interest. It must look amusing because Vegeta chuckles at me. "Don't laugh!" I protest while wrapping each arm to the opposite waist side and hooking fingers into the fabric there, "Just because I make muddled up expressions.. Maybe I wouldn't if you didn't say such.. funky things."
"Oh, whatever."
I want to make that face again, but instead I just lift my arms up, taking my shirt with it. I hand him the orange gi. He gives me a few suspicious glances, but dons the apparel I offer him. It's too big and baggy on him, the sleeves extending to his elbows; the good part of this, however, is that it hangs to mid-thigh.
"Vegeta, we have to talk.."
"Who were those people?" he interrupts.
"What people?"
"The people in the.. dining room, I suppose."
"What? Vegeta? What do you mean?"
"I mean: Who were they? They kept staring at me like I was a freak show - the blue-haired one especially."
Oh, shit.