What Would Have Been

By Zuniki-Chan

Disclaimer: Oh, fer cryin' out loud...I DON'T OWN DBZ!! If I did, you'd be seein' this on tv instead of on fanfiction.net...but the plot's mine, an' so are Mayto, Tayto, and the other original characters that will come up later... so nyyueeeahh!! o_O

A/N: This is my first fic EVER on fanfiction.net, so please be nice to me... though constructive criticism is welcome!! Please r/r; as far as I know, this'll be waaay different from all the other umpteen thousand B/V's out there... hope ya like!! ^_^

...so what are ya waitin' for? READ ON!!!



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Chapter One: Reminiscence



It was dawn at Capsule Corporation. The sun had settled below the horizon; the last of its incandescent rays casted a pinkish hue on the gradually darkening sky. As dawn melted into dusk, the last of the diminishing colors faded into obscurity and the first stars flickered into existence. Soon, the ebony blanket was pierced with millions of minuscule shafts of light, every tiny luminosity contributing to an outstanding nocturnal light show. Each star, though seemingly insignificant, was a different sun, possibly radiating its life-giving light upon its own solar system. The star-studded sky, though lacking its lunar companion, managed to cast a soft silver glow over Capsule Corporation. Most of the numerous scientists and technicians of the wealthy enterprise had abandoned their studies and turned in for the night, though a few circular windows still emanated a faint yellow glow, evidence that a few dedicated employees were still at work. A soft, subtle breeze weaved its way through the trees, rustling the leaf-laden branches and disturbing the dark, fiery locks of a certain self-proclaimed Saiyajin Prince, who, after a hard day of working his body to the limit, had retired for the night.

He sat motionless upon the roof above the company's heiress' bedroom, his face angled upward, studying the sky, his chiseled features emotionless. He came here often; here he could sort out his troubled thoughts without disturbance. He avoided his host family as much as possible; the flirtatious, cheery blonde was unnerving and her husband was good for nothing but his mediocre repairs of the just-as-mediocre Gravity Trainer. He didn't have to worry about the corporation's many employees; they avoided the short, muscular Saiyajin on their own accord, out of fear, he thought smugly. Perhaps the only human he tolerated, unadmittingly, was the blue haired heiress of the corporation. She was the only one who could fix the GT to his standards, and the genius' cleaver inventions often improved the quality of his workout. Her fiery attitude and satiric wit reminded him of the demeanor of a Saiyajin, and though he often threatened her of her life during their numerous verbal sparring matches, he knew he would never carry out the threat; though he wouldn't admit it, he enjoyed seeing her bright blue eyes spark with anger as she threw obscenities, and various objects, at him. Diverting his thoughts on the obstinate onna back to the sky, he sighed, wondering how many of the stars' planets he had purged while under the rule of the nefarious icejin, Frieza. How many civilizations, species and races he had sent into oblivion without a second thought. He sighed again, his expression troubled. Deep down he knew that this had been wrong. But the infamous icejin had beaten out of him all emotions, and he was left devoid of the ability to care, and he was left to be as evil and heartless as the unconscionable bakayarou himself. But gradually, the warrior's frozen heart had began to melt, if only ever so slightly, and he was now experiencing the weak, confusing emotions that had been absent during his childhood. He looked into the night sky at a particular star of the constellation of Ursa Major. His cold heart contracted and he was left powerless to the confusing emotions of pain and regret. He focused troubled eyes on the pulsating light emanating from the double-star. He tore his eyes away from the spot, painful memories flooding his entire being. Here, the planet of Vegeta-sei had been, and there, he would have ruled his people as King, and he would have become the Legendary...but it was gone. Gone, torn away from him without a second thought, just as his emotions had been. And by the same ruthless icejin, Frieza, and Vegeta hadn't even been able to avenge his people. Kakarrot, he thought of the name with venom. The idiotic third-class Saiyajin had inadvertently destroyed his pride many an occasion. Once again averting his disquieted mind back to the stars, he wondered vaguely what Vegeta-sei would be like if it had never been destroyed, and it was under his reign. He let out another disgruntled sigh. He'd never know.



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Bulma Briefs sat on the edge of her bed, clad only in a silken nightgown. She was about ready to turn in for the night when she heard someone land lightly on her roof. Vegeta, she thought nonchalantly. The arrogant Saiyajin prince often chose her roof as a silent place to contemplate his thoughts, and she had grown accustomed to the nightly click of his gold-tipped boots as they made contact with the hard tiles. The ceiling creaked as he shifted above her. Quietly, as to not disturb his pondering, Bulma opened the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto her balcony. She watched him with innocent curiosity as sat motionless, a subdued breeze tousling his flaming mane. The soft zephyr caught her own cerulean locks; she pushed a few unruly strands behind her ear and mused on the idea of joining Vegeta on the roof. She watched, inquisitive, as the sublime Saiyan's hardened features softened slightly and just as quickly take on a look of troubled regret. She studied him, concerned. Though he would never admit it, she realized that she was quite possibly the only one he tolerated, and for some odd reason, this pleased her. She was used to having peculiar feelings toward the prince, though; her negative view of the mass murderer seemed to have changed for the best since she had broken off the long-term relationship with her ex-lover, Yamcha. She didn't quite understand their meaning, yet; and being the genius that she was, it was unsettling to be unable to comprehend. Pushing aside her erratic thoughts she made her decision, and carefully climbed from the balcony to the roof.

He was too deep in thought to acknowledge her as she settled herself beside him, pulling her knees to her chest and examining his face closely. His usually expressionless face was set into a look in which she couldn't quite place the meaning. His eyes were glazed over and the stars sparkled in them as he studied the night sky. She watched him in silence for several minutes. It became apparent that he knew of her presence, and he turned and met her gaze. Troubled sable eyes met her shimmering aqua depths until the latter began to feel awkward and diverted her eyes to the roof, fidgeting. The silence of the situation made her uncomfortable, and she broke it, eyes still focused downward,

"Vegeta... what's wrong?" She didn't expect an answer, and it was no surprise to her when he looked away and replied,

"It is none of your concern." Vegeta meant to sound gruff, though it didn't come out that way; having the woman see him in his disheveled state made him weary. She was a genius, though, and was not to be fooled. Following his gaze, she concluded,

"You're thinking about Vegeta-sei again, aren't you..." She spoke cautiously, as she was aware that this was a touchy subject for him. She knew from experience; she had joined him on the roof a few times before and knew vaguely of his past. She was somewhat surprised when he turned to her, meeting her gaze once again. He sighed, and simply replied,

"Yes." He was strangely appreciative to see concern in her eyes. Unnerved by the eye contact once again, Bulma turned to the sky, locating the star, or rather, stars, of the obliviated planet. Vegeta, scrutinizing her with his gaze, saw his planet's suns reflected in her eyes. They narrowed in thought, still focused on the same subject. She remained meditative for several minutes while Vegeta waited, impassive, curious of her conception. Finally (or so it seemed, for her rather impatient companion), she spoke.

"I have an idea," she muttered, head bent, still pondering. Irritated by her blatant remark, he crossed his arms, exasperated,

"...And?" Looking up, she couldn't help but allow a small smile at his peeved expression. Deliberately testing his evanescent patience, she continued, feigning thoughtfulness.

"...I have an idea... and it just might work."







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A/N: Next time on What Would Have Been, Bulma's big idea...if she ever gets to it!! Poor Veggie and his nonexistent patiance...^_^ Thanx for reading, and please review! ~ Z-Chan