Okay, so I skipped the battle vs Freeza…. Since It took about three years to get through the entire damn thing, I didn't feel like making the small adjustment of adding my characters to scenes everyone already knows. Anyway, everyone's back on Earth and doing okay. From here on in, my notes won't be necessary any longer. Enjoy!
Falling Short
Chapter 1: When Peace Is Not Enough
Koan awoke to find herself in a strange bed. The covers were warm and soft, unlike the thin, ancient sheets she and Cumber had used for the past several years. At first she thought that she was still dreaming--far more peacefully than she had in a long time. But Cumber was lying just beside her as always, fast asleep. Smiling, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up, being careful not to wake the slumbering child. After everything they'd gone through, he deserved the rest.
This is a room in Bulma's house Koan remembered, scanning the large space. It was fully furnished, and there were spare clothes in the closet. Though she didn't want to take advantage of her hostess's hospitality, she had been given permission earlier. She selected a knee-length skirt--the pants would have been too much of a bother with her tail--and a blouse. Such odd Earth clothing….
Cumber awoke soon afterwards. After finding him some decent clothing--baggy shorts and a T-shirt--they left the room together in search of the others.
The first they met was Gohan. "Hey, there you are," he greeted cheerfully. "I was just coming to find you. Miss Bulma made breakfast--pancakes. Are you hungry?"
"Yeah!" Cumber laughed, and together they skipped down the hall toward the kitchen. Koan smiled at their enthusiasm; already both boys were beginning to appreciate having a friend their own age. It had been a while since she'd seen her son so happy.
Koan followed the two boys, along the way coming across a few Nameks. They greeted her kindly as she passed, and she returned their politeness with her own. After living on their small planet for the past several years, she'd come to know most all of the race. "I'm glad you're safe," she told an elder she knew particularly well: Elder Remmik. Bulma had invited him and many of the elder Nameks to stay in her house until a camp could be built.
"Thank you, Koan. We owe you and your friends much gratitude." His wrinkled face grew troubled. "If only Tsuuro's village had been spared as well."
Koan nodded vaguely. She passed on her condolences before moving on. Tsuuro's village. The one Prince Vegeta destroyed. It must be hard for them, living here with him.
By the time Koan reached the kitchen, Gohan and Cumber were already seated around the small kitchen table, shoveling food into their mouths. Vegeta was also there, eating from his own impressive stack of what must have been the "pancakes" Gohan spoke of earlier. Standing at the stove, Bulma watched with a bit of amazement. "I'll never get over the Saiyan appetite," she murmured, returning to her cooking. "It's a good thing Nameks don't eat."
"It there's no food on Namek," Gohan asked his new friend, "how did you eat?"
"There were still animals," Cumber explained, "and we could grow a few vegetables."
"But we're not used to so much food," Koan added with a smile. "Good morning, Miss Bulma. Thank you for use of your home last night."
"Oh it's nothing, really," Bulma insisted. "Please sit down and have some." She shot Vegeta a harsh glare. "Your gratitude is greatly appreciated."
The Saiyan grunted. "Why should I be grateful? I'm surprised that the taste hasn't killed me yet."
"Why, you ungrateful little--"
Koan sighed, taking a seat on the Prince's left as he continued to insult his hostess. She helped herself to some of the mysterious flat circles; on their own they were tasty but dull, and so she followed Gohan's example of adding syrup. Though it was a bit sweeter than she was used to, she enjoyed having a full meal.
When Bulma had finished arguing, she joined them at the table. "Well, now that we've all had time to rest, we'd better get to work," she declared. She winked at Gohan. "About the Dragon Balls."
Vegeta seemed to straighten at the mentioning of the Dragon Balls. From then on he watched Bulma very carefully. For a moment Koan was surprised by the intensity of his gaze. When she recalled what the dragon's wishes would be used for, it made more sense: Goku. The Prince was thinking about Goku.
"The new Eldest Namek said he'd make some more, didn't he?" said Gohan excitedly. "Then we can wish my daddy back."
"That's right. And everyone else, too."
Cumber stuffed another pancake into his mouth. "But tha's hard, hm?" He swallowed. "It will take them a while to become active. That's what Elder Remmik said."
Gohan and Bulma's faces fell. "For how long?"
"Shen Long was just summoned," Koan explained for them, "so it'll be 130 days."
"130?" Bulma exclaimed. "It's better than a year, but does that mean I have to keep these Nameks around until then? Great. Just great." She crossed her arms. "Not only that, but it looks like I'll need to look after this great ugly oaf, too." She glared again at Vegeta.
The Saiyan returned her gaze, and sneered. She edged away from him with a bit of fear. "Just remember what I'm capable of, woman," he retorted. "You shouldn't be so eager to resurrect Kakarot. Because as soon as you do, I'll beat him."
"You can't do that. Goku's a Super Saiyan now--he could take you with his feet!"
Had Koan not been watching closely enough, she would have missed something unexpected; when Bulma said that, Vegeta's expression changed. It was only for an instant--no one else had noticed--and a moment later his cocky response erased any trace of it. Koan didn't bother listening to the exchange that followed. She was too busy contemplating the brief look of anxiety she'd seen in the Prince's eyes.
She's staring at me again. Even as Vegeta continued to insult the blue-haired woman, he was aware of the vigil placed on him. It was that same look--that same damned pensive look that continuously found him. He'd awoken on Freeza's ship just before the battles to those obsidian eyes; those same eyes bid him farewell as he fell into death. And now, they were placed on him again. He didn't like them. It was if she were searching, or expecting something from him. He had no reason to live up to her expectations, whatever they may be.
"It's all in your head," Bulma retorted as she moved off, signifying the end of their argument. Vegeta enjoyed a moment of smug triumph at having out-witted her. "When all of you are done, I'll do the dishes."
"I'll help," Koan offered, taking her dishes to the sink. He was strangely relieved when she stopped staring at him. The two women began the cleaning together.
"Um…Prince Vegeta, sir?"
Vegeta frowned, turning toward the strange greeting. It had been a long time since he'd been addressed that way. Cumber, seated beside him, was watching him with wide eyes. "What?"
Cumber fidgeted in his chair, but it wasn't in the same nervous fashion as Gohan. "Well, it's going to be a while before we can wish back Goku, right? You're not leaving before then, are you?"
He shrugged. "It doesn't matter to me."
The boy brightened. "Since you're staying, will you train me?" he got straight to the point. "I was trained by the Nameks, but I want to be trained like a Saiyan!"
There was a clattering from the sink, followed by an almost eerie silence. Vegeta was amused. They fear us that much. He looked the boy over carefully. He's not nearly as strong as Kakarot's son, but there's potential. He's Grandfather may have been an Elite soldier, after all.
"Cumber, what are you saying?" Koan's voice sounded strangely hollow. "You don't need--"
"I want to be strong, Mom," her son insisted. "I want to fight like Gohan, and Goku." His voice began to lift. "And like Prince Vegeta. I want to be a great Saiyan warrior. A Super Saiyan."
Vegeta scoffed at his optimism. "Super Saiyans are rare," he replied. "You could train your whole life and never come close. Millions have."
"I don't care. I want to be strong." Cumber climbed out of his chair and faced the Saiyan Prince with a look of determination. If anything, he had courage. "Please, Prince Vegeta. You're the only one I can ask."
He stared. The plea was more of a problem than he would have thought; he wasn't interested in taking a student, as he planned to continue his own training. But the boy did have a point--there was no one else. Koan didn't have any formal training, Gohan was too young, and Piccolo had already left on his own. The only other possibility was Kakarot's teacher, which nearly gave him goosebumps. Usually Vegeta would have turned him down without a second thought, but Cumber was a Saiyan. Possibly one of the last Saiyans left.
"I don't have time to be a teacher to you," he decided at last. "You can learn the basics from Gohan." A grin tugged the edge of his lip. "Occasionally I'll step in to test your progress and teach you something. Is that all right?"
Cumber's eyes were so wide that Vegeta thought they might tumble off his face. "Really? You will, Prince Vegeta?"
"Of course. You're a Saiyan, after all." He grabbed the boy by his collar suddenly, and before anyone could protest kneed him in the gut. Cumber bent over, breathless and faint. "Consider that your first lesson," he laughed, depositing the gasping child on the floor.
Vegeta never saw the blow that hit him. Even his Saiyan reflexes didn't warn him of the attack until he was sprawled on his back, his chair clattering beside him. The pain in his jaw only lasted a moment, however. Instantly he was on his feet once more. "What the hell?"
"How dare you." Koan was kneeling beside her son, supporting him as he gasped and sputtered. Her black eyes were livid with rage. "Don't you ever touch my son," she hissed. "Hey may be a Saiyan, but he's not like our race. He doesn't need to be a Super Saiyan."
Angry that a woman had gotten the better of him, Vegeta couldn't resist yet another argument that day. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. It's a Saiyan's nature to fight. Even for you."
"And they're all dead because of it," she snapped. "There's more to being a Saiyan than beating each other within an inch of your life."
"Not that you'd know." Vegeta crossed his arms. Bulma and Gohan, realizing that they were a bit out of their league, remained silent. "You're a Saiyan but you fight like a Namek. Weren't you trained as a child?"
Koan's expression darkened. Gohan moved to help Cumber as she climbed to her feet. "I wasn't allowed," she murmured.
"Bull shit." He knew better than that. All high ranking Saiyans were warriors--they were trained that way since birth, even the women. And she was obviously of a high rank. If she had been raised by one of Freeza's men, she should have adopted some of that style.
"I don't owe you an explanation."
"Hmph. Predictable response." The Prince stepped closer--she immediately stepped back. "You're hiding something," he accused. "You didn't train at all until Namek, you were living on a peaceful planet--you're not like any Saiyan."
Koan bristled with anger, but her dark eyes refused to meet his. He could have laughed--usually she did nothing but stare at him in the face. She was definitely holding back. Her words proved it: "I don't owe you anything." They were spoken in a strained, fervid tone, but quiet and nearly trembling with emotion. "Nothing."
Vegeta would have like to continue their verbal battle, but something in her voice forced him to stop. Her cold, malicious manner startled him. Though he hadn't known many Saiyan women even before their planet was destroyed, Koan wasn't acting like one. Her past was filled with secrets, reflected in her black eyes. That quiet anger was more effective than any of the Prince's violent outbursts.
Cumber was on his feet now, interposing himself between the two. "Mom, please don't be upset," he said. "I want to do this--I have to. Namek was destroyed because they weren't strong enough to save it. What if something comes here?"
Koan's fury quickly melted into anxiety with her son's words. "Cumber…."
"Goku's not here now. It's up to all of us." He smiled. "I want to help. I don't care if it's hard."
"You will," Vegeta interrupted. "I don't intend to be lenient with you."
"I know. Thank you." The boy smiled at him then with appreciation. He was startled, as no one had ever done that to him. He didn't know how to react.
Koan heaved a sigh; whether it was disappointment or merely acceptance, he couldn't tell. "I couldn't stop you, Cumber. You can train."
Surprisingly, her defeat didn't please the boy. "You're not mad, are you?" he asked.
"Of course not." She touched the top of his head. "I'm proud of you, Cumber. You'll be a great warrior."
Only after this assurance had been given did Cumber's spirits lift. "Thanks, Mom," he said briskly. He then turned to Gohan. "Let's go. There's some land by the Nameks' camp--we can train there together."
Gohan blinked in surprise. "Alright. I wanna be really strong when Dad gets back." Laughing to themselves, the two boys ran out of the kitchen. "Thanks for breakfast, Miss Bulma!"
"Uh…sure." Bulma shook her head and sighed, returning to the dishes. After a moment of indecision, Koan joined her.
Vegeta snorted, exiting the room now that the matter had been settled. Koan's past secrets were of no concern to him; she had no reason to tell him, and he had no reason to care. In fact, he would help train Cumber whether or not the boy's mother consented. Already he could see that Koan held traces of the same emotional distractions that plagued Kakarot--sympathy and sentiment. If Cumber was to become a great Saiyan, he would need some influence other than his mother. The Prince would not allow another Saiyan to be bred vulnerable.
Bulma sighed with relief as Vegeta left the kitchen on some business of his own. "I just don't get him," she muttered, plunging a dirty plate into the sink water. "All he thinks about is fighting and training."
"All Saiyans are like that," Koan replied quietly.
She shook her head. "Nope, not true. Goku's not like that at all." An appreciative smile curled her lips. "Sure he likes to fight, but that's not the only thing. He's a great guy that takes care of his family. Oh yes! And you're a Saiyan, too. I'm sorry I almost forgot--it's just that all the ones we've met so far have been men. It must've been hard for you."
Koan pulled the dishes out of the water and placed them aside to dry. "Saiyan women didn't have much of a role in society," she said. "All the upper class members were warriors, naturally, but the lower class were no better than slaves." Her expression was oddly distant. "I haven't been around another Saiyan for a long time. It's…a bit unsettling."
"Does he really make you that nervous?" Bulma asked, choosing her words carefully. She didn't want to tread on unstable ground. "I mean, he gives me the creeps, too, but I don't think that he'll start anything."
"No, it's not that. I don't know." She smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I am just not used to it, that's all."
The older woman frowned, detecting a strange note in Koan's tone. There was something else; something she was trying to hide. Rather than press the issue, she let it drop. "Well, in any case, you're on Earth now. You don't have to put up with any shit from men--even Vegeta. You can live however you want. I'm sure my father can even give you a job."
"A job?" Koan appeared puzzled.
"Sure. We can always use some extra hands. And as a Saiyan, you'd be great help for the heavy jobs. No offense."
She smiled, pleased with the possibility of earning her stay. "That would be wonderful. I don't want to be a bother."
"Listen; if I can handle a hundred Nameks in my backyard, I'm sure one woman who's willing to work is no trouble at all."
"Thank you, Bulma."
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