Falling Short
Chapter 4: When Understanding Is Not Enough
The next morning Vegeta went looking for Koan immediately. She was in the work room--unfortunately, as Bulma and Dr. Briefs were also there, working on another spaceship. "This one's for our government," Dr. Briefs explained. "They want to be able to help, so they're sending out a party to look for Goku."
"We told them it wouldn't do any good," said Bulma, somewhat subdued. "Goku's dead. Only the Dragon Balls can help him now." She wiped her forehead and reached for a new tool. "And speaking of which, there's only about a month left. It'll be good to have him back."
Vegeta snorted, but he wasn't in the mood to offer any kind of witty response. Koan was working on the exterior of the craft--he couldn't risk approaching her with an audience, with Bulma able to defend her. He would have to wait.
Thankfully, only a few minutes had passed when Dr. Briefs suggested that his daughter assist him in fixing the jets on the bubble bath. Koan was still working on the engines; he could see only her legs and tail poking out from under the ship. He considered the best way to voice his recent memories, as he didn't want to frighten her off like last time.
At last he pulled a crate up beside the craft and took a seat. He tapped the creeper she was laying on. "I remember," he said.
Koan's tail, which had been swaying casually as she worked, disappeared under the ship at the sound of his voice. He recognized that reaction; she felt threatened. It took her a moment to respond. "Remember what?"
"You. You were on Brennel 47 with us. You and that dark-skinned man--the Kalbassian."
This time her entire body flinched. There was another lengthy pause. "What do you want?"
"Just to talk." The sound of Bulma and her father arguing reminded the prince that they might not be alone for much longer. "After lunch, during your break. I'll be outside."
"Alright."
As he'd expected, Bulma came charging out of the ship a moment later. "What an idiot," she was muttering. "It's a government spacecraft, not a cruise ship!" She noticed Vegeta's position, and frowned disapprovingly. "Hey, free-loader, quit bothering the employees, ya hear?"
"Sure, whatever." Vegeta stood and moved away from the ship, making a note to brush against her as he passed. "Don't work yourself too hard," he mocked.
"Don't work at all," Bulma retorted sarcastically, her hands on her hips. "Doing the dishes is considered lethal to some individuals."
The prince merely waved as he left.
--
Koan couldn't concentrate at all that morning. She continued to work, but completed only half of the tasks she'd planned to do. Several times she had to insist to Bulma that she was fine, and that Vegeta hadn't tried anything with her. When lunch break finally came, she was nearly paralyzed with indecision. It was likely that he would try to advance on her again--was he honestly so desperate? Was it because she was a Saiyan--the only Saiyan woman he'd most likely ever meet? After all, they both knew a woman's duty was to her master, and if the prince was searching for a mate….
Koan shook her head stubbornly as she started outside. You don't owe him anything, she told herself. You don't owe anyone. No one can control you anymore. Not him. You might as well talk to him.
Vegeta was outside, as promised, relaxing on one of the lawn chairs. He was dressed in a pair of dark corduroys and a baggy blue shirt, and dark sunglasses rested stylishly on his face. He lifted the shades as she took a seat on an adjacent chair. "You look tired," he observed.
"It was a long morning," she replied simply. Of course he knew that he was the cause. "What do you want to talk about?"
"Us." He folded his hands on his stomach, the very picture of confidence. "Do you remember me? From Brennel?"
Koan nodded slowly. Though she'd been young, she could still picture his boyish face in her mind. "At the time, I didn't know that Planet Vegeta had been destroyed."
"You never boarded Freeza's ship after that," he said pointedly. "I remember--I looked for you."
This surprised her, an emotion which showed in her face. "Why?"
Vegeta shrugged as if it didn't matter anymore. "I don't know. We were the last, after all. There's something more important I wanted to know." He sat up, and turned so that they were face to face. "Back then, when I told you that I was strong, you asked if I loved anyone." She blinked several times. "What did you mean?"
"Exactly that," Koan replied, trying to keep her voice calm. She broke eye contact with him. "I was a child. I had some false impressions."
"Well, then I supposed that now those impressions have been corrected?"
Yes. I know the way life works. "I suppose."
Vegeta regarded her silently for what felt to her like ages. His sharp, attentive glare unnerved her in a way she wasn't accustomed to. It caused her heart to pound fiercely against her temples. "Tell me," he instructed at last. He sounded oddly sincere.
Koan bit her lip. "I don't know what you mean."
"How were your impressions 'corrected?'"
What does he want from me? If I tell him…what will he say? She turned her head away to keep from being affected by his heavy stare. He'll mock me, surly….
"I'm at a disadvantage with you." He was speaking again, and she returned her attention. His tone was clear and low, almost menacing in nature despite his words. She wasn't sure what to make of it. "You saw me when I was most vulnerable, on Namek. I didn't mean for that."
"I know." She gulped. "And I guess…I owe you an explanation of myself. It's only fair."
Vegeta shook his head; the tension released from him in the form of sigh. "'Fairness' is Kakarot's line," he replied, pushing to his feet. "There's no point in it." For a moment his expression hardened. "Knowing something I shouldn't won't mean anything. It has to come from you, or else I don't care." He turned to leave.
"W-Wait." Koan licked her lips, debating with herself. He had made an amazing gesture just then, one that had not gone unnoticed. Had he demanded an explanation, she would have relented. But he hadn't. It was almost as if he was trusting her, something she wasn't used to.
"Thank you." She stood, fidgeting just barely. "Prince Vegeta, I should apologize."
"Not 'should'," he interrupted, glancing over his shoulder.
"Fine. I want to apologize." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for misjudging you. I heard so much about you unfairly--I mean, accidentally--and I still don't understand you well."
"There's not much to know." He crossed his arms.
"I'll tell you something." She retook her seat, and after a moment he followed suit. "I want to." Slowly, her tail unwrapped from her waist and stretched out along the chair. He's not like the others. He won't hurt you. "My father was an Elite Class warrior named Turps." Vegeta's posture became more erect--he recognized the name, as she thought he would. "He was powerful, and well respected. But then he became ill." Her voice grew heavy with remorse. "He took a wife soon after. She was of a low class, and it disgraced."
Vegeta nodded thoughtfully. "I remember Nappa tell me about him once. "He was exceptional, until he became ill."
Koan folded her hands and continued. "What he never told anyone was that my mother, Balna, was not only a low class soldier. He was in love with her."
----
Vegeta frowned. At first he thought that she was lying--the look on her face told otherwise. It wasn't that he didn't know about love--he'd simply never heard it used in reference to a Saiyan mating before. They chose mates of their class. They had children that were bred to their trade, and then they moved on. Sometimes Saiyans paired for life--sometimes they didn't care to know the woman's name. Love was rare under such circumstances, and was generally considered a weakness.
"I was only two years old when father died," she went on. "My mother died soon after. But I still remember the things they taught me, and the feeling I got from them. The feeling of being loved that few--if any--Saiyans had."
Vegeta stared at her long and hard. A smirk twisted his lips. "The world turned out to be a little different, didn't it?"
To his mild surprise, Koan smiled back. "Yes, it did."
She was smiling at him. He didn't know whether he should resent it or not. He wanted to know what she was thinking. Love…what does she expect? What good does it do? It made Kakarot soft, which almost cost him his life.
It did cost him his life.
--
You shouldn't have told him that, Koan berated herself. Love…are you mad? That's the one thing he can't understand, don't you get it? He could never understand what you're talking about. He doesn't want to.
So much uncertainty, and yet they still smiled. She didn't know why--perhaps it was that they seemed to share something, a common hardship in their past. At last Koan decided to end this. Though explaining to him had granted her some peace of mind, there was still more; secrets she'd never shared, was too ashamed to share.
Maybe he would understand.
No, he couldn't possibly.
"I think this is about the end of my lunch break," Koan said, climbing to her feet. "Thank you. I mean that."
Vegeta snorted. "Sure. I'm glad we got this chance to…communicate." He swung his legs around, reclining in the lawn chair once more. The black sunglasses returned to their perch on the bridge of his nose. "You've got nothing to worry about anymore, Koan. I know you're afraid of me, and you don't have to be." She winced a bit. "The two of use are Saiyans--maybe the last. We stick together."
Oddly, his words comforted her. "Yes."
--
Vegeta lifted an eyebrow as Koan departed, watching her tail swing back and forth. Great. I made her happy. He wasn't sure if that had been his intent; he wasn't even sure if he was pleased with the outcome of their short discussion. She had granted partial light to her complicated personality, but now more than ever he was sure she held deeper secrets. Secrets that he wanted to find.
Once, she had a Saiyan's spirit--Saiyan pride. Where did it go?
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