Disclaimer: Don't own it. Never will.
Author's Note: This has been probably my biggest project in all of my fanfiction-writing-history. I tried my hardest to make it flow like an actual novel, centered around one main character and have many underlying themes. (And trust me, there are MANY underlying themes. ;) Look for them.)
Dedication: This WHOLE chapter (as well as the story) is dedicated to my maggot and friend, Stef-chan (User ID: 147277). ^_^;; Whyyyy is it dedicated to her? CAUSE SHE DESERVES IT! She gave me the idea, the ending (sorta… I actually kinda took it from her. u.u), and has been a good editor for me. And look, no matter what genre you're looking for when you're searching for DBZ fanfiction, Stef's got it! She's got romance (of course…), drama, suspense, angst, humor, AND poetry! Wow, great variety, huh? Her stories are there for you, no matter what mood you're in! So bring in those reviews for her too!
The BruteChapter One
The younger added another dish to the pile that Bardock was already washing. Bardock growled and turned around.
"Son, at the rate you're eating and the rate I'm washing, I'll never be through."
"Uh-huh."
Bardock sneered and turned back around, indulging his hands in the dirty, sudsy water once more. He mumbled several negative things under his breath, till the unmentionables he was saying became so passionate that Kakarroto could hear him. "…stupid, uncaring son. I come back from a five-day mission, and this is how I'm greeted. Not a, 'Hello Father! How'd you and your crew do?' or a, 'Have any new battle scars to show me?' No, the only thing I'm welcomed with is, 'Wash the dishes. I'm running out of clean ones.'"
"Shut up, old man. I can't hear myself think."
"Since when did you 'think?'"
"I'm thinking about the slowest and most painful way to kill you. Shut up."
Kakarroto smirked when his father said nothing more. "How'd you and your crew do?" he asked sarcastically, sitting on the kitchen table.
There was a grunt. "Well not that you care, but we actually did reasonably well. Toma was the only one that received a black eye, and the full moon came precisely on time. We were prepared and everything."
"Congratulations."
Bardock turned and stared at him. "And seeing as how you're so fascinated with everything that goes on in your father's life, I thought you might like to know—Raditz is coming home."
"My wonder brother?" Kakarroto groaned, rolling his eyes and sliding off the table.
"Don't mock him like that!" Bardock continued, "He's your older brother. You should look up to him! Aren't you excited at all that he's finally coming home?"
"Head's up Bardock: I don't know Raditz. As far as I'm concerned, he's never existed. He's dead to me."
"He is not dead, and he is coming home," the father barked, his ashy eyes donning a glare. "Tomorrow, too, I believe. If you had been more interested in political affairs than your own affairs, you'd have known before now that Frieza officially announced the news to Vegetasei three days ago. Prince Vegeta has served his time, and will be returning tomorrow along with Elite Superior Nappa and your brother."
"Whoop-di-do," Kakarroto said. "Let's throw a party."
"As a matter of fact, we are. A welcome home party."
"Trust me, I won't be attending."
Bardock took several steps foreword and boxed his son's ears. Though it actually hurt, and though Kakarroto would have normally retaliated, he stood still, his mouth agape in shock. His father rarely struck him, generally from the fear of being struck back by the obvious stronger.
Kakarroto stared down a glare, and his father spoke up. "You will be attending, if you know what's good for you. Otherwise I shall publicly disown you. Kakarroto, this is your brother we're talking about! Your own blood!" Bardock took a deep breath and continued, "You might have thrown your cocky, smart ass attitude around here for a long while, but this is my last nerve, and I won't take it any longer."
That's what Bardock said—or, rather, tried to say. But before he could finish his sentence, Kakarroto had shoved him backwards, against the counter.
"And what are you going to do about it, Bardock?" he laughed.
Father continued to return his son's attitude with a glare and another look, extremely subtle yet definitely present, and closest to a nervous pout in comparison.
"Good," said the younger with a soft tone. "Now if you don't mind, I believe I'll head out for more of my affairs. See you later."
"Be back by tomorrow!" Bardock called after him as Kakarroto made for the door. "We're going to the North Wing to attend the prince's arrival!"
For all the good it did, he might as well have been shouting at the dishes to clean themselves. His statement was followed with an abrupt slam of the door, one that rattled the glass windows uncomfortably in their panes.
Kakarroto took off into the sky and crossed his arms, anger swirling in his mind, permeating through his thoughts. Raditz was to be home tomorrow… Raditz, the wonder child. Raditz, the born Elite. Raditz, his father's favorite son.
If there was ever a subject that Bardock loved to talk about, it was the said Sayian. Even if he were talking to mild acquaintances or complete strangers even, Bardock eventually led himself back to Raditz. If he and another were commenting on food, he would turn the topic around to Raditz's favorite dishes. If battles and fighting techniques were the theme, he'd discuss in great detail all the moves Wonder-Brother-Raditz had developed and mastered on his own.
And Kakarroto honestly had had enough of "Raditz" to last him a lifetime.
He stopped his flight and landed in a tree outside the city, halfheartedly watching two brats settle a squabble in a flurry of fists and feet. The truth was, he'd never met Raditz before. The only thing he had to rely on were stories—tales of the wondrous things his brother had accomplished. He'd heard of how Raditz had been born with an astounding power level, automatically making him a Super Elite. He'd heard of how Raditz's early-aged strength had extremely impressed King Vegeta, putting him close in the inner circle of Vegetasei. And from what Kakarroto could summarize, he had a clear image of a man with neatly pressed clothes, his boots shined to a gleaming finish, his tail fluffy in the loveliest of ways, and not a speck of dirt on him—a regular goody-two-shoes. His bad boy self snorted and scoffed at the idea. He doubted that no matter how "great" Raditz was, he had never been the biggest player of the decade.
The boys stopped fighting beneath him when they became conscious of his presence. They stared at him with awing fear as he stared back. One finally swallowed and spoke up, tenderly nursing his scratched palms from the just-canceled fight.
"You're… Kakarroto, right?"
"Yes," the former grunted, dropping out of his tree. His tail swayed lazily from side to side with unspoken confidence. The boy glanced at his friend, but didn't dare take his gaze off the older Sayian for too long.
"My brother talks about you a lot."
"Oh?"
"Yes," said the boy. "He—he says that you cheated in that fight with him. Did you?"
Kakarroto lifted his eyebrow. "Who's your brother?"
"Veet, of the second class. He fought you several days ago." The boy hesitated. "Did you really cheat?"
Still, he chose not to answer. Instead he filed through the memories of his brain, and he finally remembered Veet: an extremely tall fellow with a loud mouth and an ugly face that held a strange resemblance to a boulder Kakarroto had once seen. He smirked.
"You've got a heck of a brother there, kid," he said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. He felt the urchin freeze underneath him. "Let's just hope that you don't turn out to be half the hideous moron he is, or else someone might mistake you for a beast and shoot you."
The other boy watched, as still as a statue, as his friend was patted on the shoulder. Then Kakarroto turned, smirked again, and continued his destined trip to the city.
The sky was dismally plain, and though it still held its usual pigment of red, it was boring and looked drizzly. It reminded him of tomato soup (as most all Sayians were easily reminded of food): thick, unsurprising, and unenthusiastic. He sniffed the air, and identified anther smell he loved—the wet, natural, and crisp smell of rain.
It was going to rain tomorrow; he could tell. Kakarroto smirked. He hoped it rained all over Raditz when he took his first steps off that undoubtedly grand and glorious spaceship.
Vegetasei was a large planet that hosted a small race. Once crowded and busy, as it had housed two peoples, it was now spacious and boring, containing a population of approximately five thousand Sayians. Because of this modest number, the planet only contained two cities—rather, two cities worth visiting: the North Wing and South Wing. The North Wing was by far more interesting and generally contained higher-classed individuals, as well as the royal palace itself. The South Wing was rough, tough, and uncultured, but known for its constantly active entertainment. Kakarroto and his father lived closer to South Wing, but somewhere much further out into the non-existent west.
Kakarroto gave way to surprise as he reached the innards of South Wing. His eyes grew slightly wider, though only mildly so, as he noted a body on the ground. He took several steps closer and kicked its form, confirming his assumption that it really was dead and not just a passed out drunkard. He snorted, looked around at the bare streets and busy bars, then turned his attention back to the dead Sayian so he might bring his tribute of acknowledgement to a close before he continued on his way. He walked for a while afterwards, an interested spring in its step.
Strange—there was normally more than one dead body on the streets of South Wing.
He glided into one of his favorite bars with born ease, a walk he had inherited from his father. He pointedly ignored the gestures several known whores sent his way, and made his way to his usual seat. Apart from the easy females in the corner, no one else seemed to have noticed his entrance, something highly unusual. They were all too busy talking about the same topic: Prince Vegeta.
Kakarroto rolled his ashen eyes as he stopped walking, blasting a fat Sayian out of his seat. At the scream of pain, everyone stopped and stared—both from fear as well as corrupt intrigue. The majority of the crowd grew hushed at the sight of him, as they always did, spare all the women present, who giggled and cooed to themselves.
The bartender was new that night, he noticed. Kakarroto needed to put him in his place early. He ordered his regular drink in a monotonous, vibratory voice, as most of the room was now devoid of sound. The servant fulfilled his request, unnerved by the sudden silence, and handed Kakarroto his drink. Before he could move, however, the Sayian had grabbed him by his shirt and practically pulled him across the counter, his face like a thundercloud.
"Hello," he growled slowly. "What's that? My name, you say? It's Kakarroto. You're going to remember that."
"Kakarroto?"
"Yes. Now then, let me see—yes, that's the look. I like that look. Fear will get you far with me. I promise you that."
"Kill him Kakarroto," someone encouraged; one of the women he'd slept with. "Kill him. Beat him up. Put him in his place."
"Quiet, whore," he spat, sending a detectable mist in the bartender's direction. He shoved the bartender backwards and sat down, grabbing his drink with rough hands. He took a sip, made a face at the foam he had inhaled, and decided to let his drink sit a while longer before drinking more. He looked around.
"Talk!" he barked into the silence, shocking people back to life. They turned back around to the partners of their tables and shifted slightly in their seats, but no one said a thing. Fear was chasing every nonchalant idea away from their tongue.
Kakarroto turned to the fellow to the left of him, whose gaze was fixed on his hands. Kakarroto smirked and nudged him. "What's all this buzz about the prince?"
"Well, I um—I… Haven't you hea—" The man stilled his tongue and thought better of his choice of words. "The prince is officially coming back to Vegetasei tomorrow, along with Elite Superior Nappa and Elite Superior Raditz."
"Well of course I know that," Kakarroto snorted, rolling his eyes. "Who doesn't? I just thought you losers would have gotten over that news by now. It's not that big of a deal."
The man beside him worded silently. He finally caught himself and stared hard at his hands again. "Well… everyone was just commenting on—on the welcome home party for the prince. Everyone's required to be there, and—"
"Required?" Kakarroto groaned.
The man nodded. "Yes, of course. You'll be killed otherwise for disrespect. But there's word that there's going to be a large feat that everyone will partake in, even third class. Though, personally, I'd hate to get shit like that near my food. They'd probably contaminate it."
The taller's jaw rocked on its hinge. "Oh yea?" he said lightly, looking the man up and down. His eyes flitted to the seal pinned over his heart, affirming his second class position.
"Yea." He laughed lightly to himself. "You know, I've thought about this for a bit, and I've come upon the theory that third class Sayians really did come from monkeys, you know? Just crawled out of the jungles of somewhere."
Kakarroto was flabbergasted that the Sayian would have the courage (or the stupidity…) to say this to him, because, even if he didn't know Kakarroto-the-Great, third class weren't necessarily pushovers, especially when compared to the league just above theirs. His mind checked himself, though, and he remembered that he had left his seal at home. He could be first class for all the guy beside him knew.
The excuse, no matter how reasonable, wasn't enough, however. Kakarroto laughed in supposed light agreement for a few moments before, suddenly, he shut his eyes out of the light and grabbed the man by the collar, pulling him into kissing range. He made a point to breathe heavily through his nose, onto the man's face. The bar, which had only just begun to get slightly louder, became forebodingly silent in a flash, as if they had expected this to happen.
The prey Kakarroto held was too shocked to do much more than struggle in his grip for a few seconds, which made the latter's rage grow at a rapid rate. The more Kakarroto watched him squirm, watched him writhe in pain and fear, the more he wanted to crush his skull.
"Crawled out of the jungles, did we?" he asked, his lips grazing over the other man's as he spoke. The latter stopped moving momentarily as a fleeting look of horror crossed his countenance. He suddenly found his tongue.
"What? Out of the jungles? You? No! Of—of course not! Look—look, I was only kidding—" He swallowed. "Only kidding! You know that, right?"
Everyone watched as a grin spread incredibly wide, far across Kakarroto's teeth, up to his canines. Some wondered if they should take this baring of his teeth as a warning rather than a smile, for there was a sadistic, almost mirthful look in his eyes. A few Sayians even crept out the back of the bar, unnoticed, in case pandemonium broke out. Kakarroto gave the slightest hint of a nod, so as to not bump heads with the other man.
"Yea," he whispered slowly. "Yea… I know."
Faster than any of the second and third class present could see, Kakarroto's knee made contact with the other man's abdomen and continued to slide up several inches higher, so as to knock the senses out of his diaphragm. The other gaped, but no air came in. He leaned on Kakarroto's shoulder, but no sympathy was had.
And when everyone had finally realized what the third class terror had done, he'd already gone through the liberty of killing his victim, leaving a bloody mess on the floor.
Silence reigned over all. Kakarroto sneered at the blood that had splattered on his once-clean boots. He made a small, disapproving noise, and rubbed the blood off in a smear on the corpse's shirt.
"Sorry about that," he drawled to the bartender, shooting him a feisty, challenging smirk. "Two messes to clean up… tsk tsk tsk… and you being new here and all." He paused, glanced around the room, and straightened his posture before continuing, "You remember my name, right?"
The bartender wanted to be any place but where he was. He stood as still as a statue, crouched over slightly, the back of his neck as hot as flame. "Ka—Kakarroto."
"Very good."
Kakarroto stretched and looked about the room, shaking his limbs to rid himself of the adrenaline that had built up. He looked for a new, unfamiliar feminine face, but, upon finding none, looked pointedly at the most attractive woman present and hiked his thumb at himself. She stood up with a giggle, her step accented by a heavy clunking of her high-heeled boots, and intertwined her arm with his. He frowned.
"I suppose you'll have to do," he said in a loud, distasteful voice. But as she snuggled further into his chest, she didn't seem to hear him. He led her out to the entrance of the bar, the eyes of every jealous female and nervous male upon the pair. "But, mind you, father's back from his mission."
"Oh," she said in a pout, her lower lip protruding under the top. "So I guess that means I'll—" He smirked and laid a finger on her heavily painted lips.
"Don't be so upset! You didn't let me finish! Father's back, I said, and I'm more pissed at him than usual." He grinned. "So I want you to be twice as loud as usual tonight, just to irk him. All right?"
She laughed a hee-hawing laugh, finally ending it in a wink. "I'll do anything you want me to."
"Uhm-hum."
And the two then quit the bar and strolled down South Wing's wide streets, one with the grace of a tiger, the other with the grace of a baby giraffe.
The first chapter=uneventful. BUT DON'T GIVE OUT ON ME YET! ^_^;; There's still plenty of action to come! In fact, in the next chapter, they'll be some… uh… stuff happening! ^^;; Can't say just yet, but… if you stick around with me, you'll find out! ^_^
~Pudgoose