Disclaimer-Dragonball Z is not mine
Bardock and Celipa
"Wake up, boy!"
Bardock's eyes flew open and he jumped out of bed. His father, Coran (Pronounced Core-un), stood in front of him, arms crossed on his chest.
"Time's wasting, boy!" Coran yelled. "We've got training to do!"
"Before he does anything, he has to eat." Bardock's mother, Bina (Pronounced Bee-nuh), stepped into the room. "My son is not going to train on an empty stomach."
"You spoil him," Coran grumbled. "I didn't eat breakfast when I was a brat myself."
"Our son is not a brat," Bina snapped. "And your parents didn't care about you enough to feed you breakfast."
"My parents cared enough to make me tough," Coran snapped back.
"No, they tried to make you vicious. And your father didn't approve of you marrying me. Because my father is a doctor and my mother is more than a sex slave!" Bina turned and stomped out of his room. Coran followed her, talking incoherently.
Bardock stared at the open door before crawling back into bed and hid under his blanket. He hated it when his parents fought. What 6-year-old boy didn't hate it when his parents fought? And it was too early, anyway. 5:30. Bardock was still tired.
Celipa was up with the birds. She always was. She was sitting on the balcony railing, her tail curling around the fancy columns that supported it.
Her home life was far different than Bardock's. No one ever made a scene when they awoke her because she was up already. And if she ever wasn't, no one talked to her. And that was because the servants woke her up.
Her parents, Tomala (Pronounced Toe-ma-la) and Lettusa (Pronounced La-tuss-a), never raised their voices at each other. In this house, it seemed illegal to raise your voice. You had to move softly, speak softly, and sometimes, it seemed, think softly. Her parents wanted their home to be picture-perfect.
"Celipa! Get down from there!" a servant, Cumala (Pronounced Cum-a-la) gasped.
Even when Celipa was dangling over a 30-feet drop, they did not raise their voices. That was the power of the house.
Celipa bent over backwards, her knees holding onto the outer edge of the railing. She grinned crazily. "I'm not Celipa. I'm a monkey."
"Yes, you are a monkey," Cumala said, shaking her head. Cumala was Celipa's nanny. Cumala was around 60 years old, and she felt that growing up in this house was not good for a wild child like Celipa.
Cumala went forward and grabbed Celipa by the stomach and carried her off the railing. Celipa laughed, even as the blood rushed to her face. Her head was inches off the floor, and she felt her short hair tug at its roots.
Cumala smiled and started tickling Celipa.
"Stop! Stop!" Celipa shrieked, wrestling herself from Cumala's grip. She managed to gently land on her head and roll onto her back, laughing.
"Time for breakfast, Celipa," Cumala said, taking Celipa by the hand, helping her up, and leading her out of the room and down the stairs, towards the dining room.
Bardock dropped into a fighting stance.
"Stupid brat!" Coran yelled, giving Bardock and whack upside the head. "You are totally unguarded! Fix your stance!"
Bardock moved his fists to in front of his chest, his elbow dropping to his waist. He stood at an angle, to avoid any direct hit.
"Better," Coran said. "This is what warriors are made of. Fighting and guarding."
"But Father, I don't want to be a warrior," Bardock said.
"Not a warrior? Not a WARRIOR?! What in God's name do you want to be?"
"A scientist. Like Grandfather."
"A SCIENTIST? I let you sleep in too late. You dream of nonsense. Scientists are pantywaist! Weak! The lowest of all Saiyans!"
"But Mother says…"
"Never mind what your mother says! Her father is a bumbling old man who cannot defend himself from an infant! Your mother is a fighter, and you will be, too! Now, for wasting precious time, do 100 push-ups."
"Yes, Father," Bardock said wearily, getting on the ground.
He had reached 37 when Coran grabbed his arm and yanked him up.
"What is it, Father?" Bardock asked, confused.
"Bow, boy. 1st-class."
Coran and Bardock bowed low as a carriage bearing Celipa's family rolled past.
Celipa stared out the window, bored out of her skull.
"Look at those 3rd-class," Lettusa said disdainfully.
"Yes, Mother," Celipa said distractedly. She didn't see anything interesting. Just a lot of Saiyans bowing.
As the carriage rolled past, Celipa looked back. One of the boys straightened himself and threw a glance at the carriage. Celipa grinned in recognition. That was Bardock! He was in her 1st-grade class! (A/N: Being as Vegetasei centers on fighting rather than education, there is only one public school per town, so all children from all classes attend the same school)
She made a mental note to say hi to him on Monday, seeing as it was safe to talk to him, now that they both had their cootie shots. (A/N: 6-year-olds…need I say more?)
The carriage bore on, and Bardock's training resumed.
REVIEW!!