Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or any of the characters in this story.
The words still echoed in his mind fresh as if uttered a few mere seconds ago.
It was taking a lot of effort to not ponder on the words, the rage that had accompanied them, hitting him in the likeness of a sword, for they were, in simple terms, hurtful. He did not want to think about it, but it kept coming back like a crab, desperate to make him go through emotions he did not want to he had his pride to think of, for his pride was something more valuable than his supremely significant life, and those words, those harsh, furious words, attacked just that, his pride, his greatest treasure.
The woman told him to give the boy some space for he was a young boy and emotionally charged. He had scoffed then; the boy had misbehaved with him and he needed space? Right. It was much later, when he trained by himself in that domed chamber that defied the very forces of this earth, that he had, indeed, pushed the boy too far. He was, after all, half human, and humans were known to be emotionally charged, something Vegeta had just never considered. After all, if he did that, he was afraid he would raise his son as the saiyan that he was, and the saiyan that he could be. In hindsight, ignoring his human blood was probably not a wise move. Instead of making him strong, he'd ended up making him bitter and unmotivated.
The Prince's move had royally backfired.
It had been weeks since they'd talked, the father and the son. No greetings, no acknowledgement, other than fleeting glances at each other at certain moments, Vegeta impassive and his son a ball of fire. The hatred was evident in his cool blue eyes, and Vegeta scoffed again at the irony. He was in his chamber again, his den of solitude, but he wasn't training, nor had the gravity been set to inhuman levels. He was just there, eyes shut, thinking. There was a lot on his mind right now. Some thoughts were about the son and guttural words that he had uttered, some thoughts re-evaluating his parenting and tuition techniques and some other that were being put on priority and being pushed away simultaneously, for these thoughts dealt with him. Thoughts that questioned as to why he cared ultimately, thoughts that wanted him to admit secrets he would never admit, and these thoughts were the ones that bothered him the most.
Vegeta's mind was at unrest, and he was not liking it.
Rather reluctantly, his proud brain shouted at itself to take up the responsibility of a father, the man of the household and drink up the pride like water. This thought had never come to him, the prospect of being loving and apologising were alien to him, and he clenched his fists, his brows furrowed. He did not want to do it, but he also knew that he had to be the bigger person, as they called it on earth, in this scenario.
He had to resolve his issue with his son for his own betterment. And for that, he would have to ask for help. Vegetal swallowed as that particular thought came to his mind. He had never asked for help before, but now... He roared in frustration, punching the floor with one fist followed by a tiresome groan. Who could he ask for help with handling a kid without feeling as embarrassed?
Well, maybe he could start with the woman...
Hello one and all! It's been a long time since I wrote anything for DBZ, so it's good to be back. This story is a sequel of 2004 story "Enough is Enough!" by Da-story-master. Do check it out! Also, this story is requested by BarbieGirl82. I hope you and everyone who reads it enjoys it.
In the next chapter, I'll go through exactly what happened. Please let me know what you think.
Have a great day!