Disclaimer: SSDC: Same , different chapter.
Author's Notes: This one took me a while just cause… it did. I had a difficult time describing the palace's exterior… so that's why the description might be a little… um… wanting, lol. The fight scene, surprisingly, was the easiest to write. I had a blast picturing it all in my mind beforehand. IT'S THE SAYIAN IN ME! HUAAAAAAA!!!!!
MUCHO thank-os to all my reviewers! I looked at the number a couple days ago and thought, "Wow! I've actually got more than one person's opinion this time!" Ahhh, how the mighty have fallen… I remember them good ol' days… ;) But nevertheless, thank you all VERY much! I feel honored to have your feedback (especially 'cause it's all positive), and I really hope you like the last couple chapters as much as I do! :D Here you are!
OH! And one more thing. It occurred to me when I was reading my reviews that some of you all may not have seen my notice of posting chapters every Sunday. I don't remember if I put a note in my chapters or just in my profile… But anyway, for those of you who did not see, I do update every Sunday (or try to. I seem to… uh… forget a lot. Ehehehe… Bad quality of mine: poor short-term memory. X.X). I've already finished the story, so there's no question about updates because of writer's block… It all depends on if I remember it or not!
o.o; Oh dear… You all have a better chance with the writer's block…
The Brute
Chapter Eight
Kakarroto wasn't surprised that his family decided to come along to watch, even after his scrabble with Raditz. In fact, he had predicted that they would. Why pass up this once-in-a-lifetime chance to see the palace grounds? But he just wasn't in the mindset—nor in the mood at the time, to be honest—to be pleased by their attention. Now they were only a nuisance, like three extra shadows. The only person he cared to have by his side was Bulma. Without her, he was sure the time spent with his family would have been unbearable.
Kakarroto had never personally seen the palace. Even though he was present at Prince Vegeta's "welcome-home" party, it was merely an extension of the real palace: the grand and mysterious building on the most northern tip of Vegetasei. This place, Kakarroto quickly found out, was far grander than he had imagined. At least thirteen stories high, it glowed mysteriously, perhaps from the sunlight above. Barricading its beauty was a bronze stone wall, easily taller than the tallest of Sayians. The palace gates were red, as deep a red as Vegetasei's soil, and solid, forbidding anyone from trespassing. Literally hundreds of guards had to be circling the palace, on patrol, crisscrossing paths every now and then. All of them, spare two, were covering the sky and keeping anyone from flying inside the palace's grounds. The two extra guards were stationed at the gate, as still as statues and threatening.
Upon their arrival, the two gate guards greeted Kakarroto from the end of their outstretched arms and flat palms. However, quickly explaining himself and his company was more than enough for them, for it seemed that word of his and Elite Superior Nappa's fight had traveled all over the palace and was highly anticipated. The gate guards guided him and his party inside towards the West End of the grounds where an elaborate battlefield was set. It was beautiful and much unlike anything Kakarroto and most of his party had ever seen. The only one who seemed to have already seen the arena was, understandably, Raditz, and he, instead, humored himself by conversing with one of the guards, apparently an acquaintance of his.
Kakarroto tried to entertain his brain with the magnificent scenery around him, but he couldn't help but be captivated in curiosity by Raditz and the guard's conversation, for they were speaking in very low whispers. Kakarroto spotted something to his right and, pretending to be very interested in it, moved more in that direction so as to be closer to his brother and friend.
"No, I haven't heard anything," the second Sayian was saying. Raditz glanced around him (Kakarroto looked away sharply, pretending to listen to Chi-Chi and Bardock) and then continued to press on.
"Well, has anyone been offered to him since Nappa told me about it?"
"There've been a couple suggestions, but Prince Vegeta keeps rejecting them all. I myself even had the privilege of suggesting someone I knew. But the fact remains that Prince Vegeta's not even looking for someone, you know? The only reason he's doing this is because his father's making him. Or at least that's what I think; it seems pretty obvious…"
"Yet even now he wants to keep it hushed up from the public."
"Yes."
"Why, do you think?"
"Power. He doesn't need anyone taking half the authority he has, half the power of his throne. I mean, who would want that when you could have supreme rule?"
"I suppose…"
There was a pause, and Kakarroto, who had been gazing at the arena's architectural design, turned sharply towards Raditz and his friend in case he was missing anything. The gate guard looked up.
"What do you mean? You disagree?"
"Well… Well, yes, I do, but that's not what I was talking about. I meant why is Prince Vegeta keeping this hushed up, and… well—you just don't know Prince Vegeta like I do. Frieza's changed him, certainly, and he wants everyone to believe it's for the better." Raditz sighed. "But… he's not what he wants everyone to believe. He's not nearly as cold-hearted and self-centered as he'd like to make us believe. He was born a prince; looking after others—particularly his subjects—is like instinct to him. He's… well, let's just say he might be doing it for the well-being of others."
"Others? Wait… you mean like…"
"Like the girls," Raditz spat impatiently. "I mean, if he should couple as soon as he gets back on Vegetasei, she may very well be in danger. Frieza may have let Vegeta go home, but I'm sure he's not done toying with him, and the prince knows that. Frieza could use Vegeta's mate against him. And if he's not doing it for the female's safety, he's probably doing it for his own."
Kakarroto tried to listen more, but the other guard shoved him from behind. Kakarroto turned and glared at him. "Did you just touch me?" he said.
"And if I did? Shut up and move along, we've got to get you on the arena's stage. The battle's only in a couple minutes."
Bulma looked around and smiled as Kakarroto rejoined her side. "Is this going to be a public fight?" she asked him.
"Not exactly," the guard jumped to answer. "All members of the palace are invited, except the slaves and servants. But everyone first class and down is excluded. It won't be that big of a crowd."
"Wow," Bulma mumbled. Kakarroto looked at her and noted the look of pride in her eyes: pride for him and for herself in being able to witness such an event.
After hearing this, Kakarroto wasn't so sure about the number of people he expected to see. But, it turned out, there were a lot more palace-worthy Sayians than Kakarroto had once believed. Kakarroto had never really pictured many more individuals other than King Vegeta, his son, and a couple guards, but sitting in stands piled high before him were at least 400 Sayians, all well-dressed and well-groomed. It was all he could do to keep from dropping his mouth as he stopped at the edge of the stone arena. Now that he had arrived and people were starting to notice him, a hush went over the crowd. Yet just as quickly afterward, a body of whispers sprang to life.
"Good luck Kakarroto," Bulma whispered in his ear, her whisper somehow quieter than all of those around her. She kissed his cheek and squeezed his hand, then allowed herself to be directed away from him with the rest of the group. He suddenly felt very alone with only a guard beside him. His gut felt leaden and cold and his knees were failing him; performing in front of such important members of the Sayian population? What did he think he was doing? Was it too late to back out now?
"Bow!" the guard hissed in his ear, elbowing him sharply. Kakarroto looked at him and followed the guard's finger to the person it was pointing at: King Vegeta was directly ahead, in the center of the stands. He had scooted in front of his seat and was now standing, waiting for his deserved, respective silence. Prince Vegeta was sitting down comfortably on his right. In all his worry, Kakarroto—nor the rest of the Sayian body in the stands—had noticed. He abruptly bent over at the waist. He heard the crowd quickly go silent.
Kakarroto straightened up as the crowd came to life again, his movements jerky. He reminded his mind to get a grip on itself. If he continued to be this nervous, he was bound to screw up somewhere while fighting. He forced his muscles to relax and took deep, steady, soothing breaths. He was almost to the point of being able to block out the audience's commotion around him when everything quickly became hushed. There wasn't a sound in the large arena. Startled, he looked up to see King Vegeta's hand raised, issuing a commanding silence over everyone. It was so silent that he could have probably whispered, and everyone, with his or her acute Sayian hearing, could have heard it.
"Fellow Sayian brethren, I welcome you!" King Vegeta boomed, motioning to the crowd surrounding him. "And to our lower-classed guests, another welcome." If Kakarroto had expected the audience knew King Vegeta was talking about Bulma, Bardock and Chi-Chi, he was greatly mistaken. He felt another wave of muscle-seizing fear as every head turned their burning stare to him. "As you all know, we are here to witness a Super Elite's battle. As is custom, I will now present the challenged: Kakarroto, son of Bardock, born to the rank of the third-class. And the challenger: Nappa the IV, son of Nappa the III, born to the rank of the super elites."
The entire audience burst into laughter, and Kakarroto didn't need the chortling guard's elbow in his side to realize what they were laughing at. He screwed his face up in anger. No, not anger, he told himself. Anger never helped anyone in battle. He would concentrate on taking graceful revenge instead of rage-blinding anger. If he could silence every single person in the stands, mouth by mouth, he would, but instead he'd prove them all wrong with one battle.
It occurred to him then that he was carrying the weight of the entire third-class. Every single third-class that had been looked down at or spit upon by any other superior-ranking Sayian rested their pride in him. They might not have to walk in shame if only he'd win this battle. They might not have to cringe when a second-class spoke anymore. They might not have to walk on eggshells when they passed a first-class Sayian on the street. He was their deciding factor, he thought with weighty importance.
Or was he?
Was he? Really?
No, he… no, he didn't represent them, he pondered. Not a single third-class was as strong as he was, was as good a fighter as he was, had as dark a complexion as he did, had the same kind of family problems he did, had the same small gap in his two front teeth that he did… He was his own. He was Kakarroto. He was representing his own self, his own strength, skill, and pride. No other third-class could ever say, "Yes, I battled Elite Superior Nappa. You should have been there. You should have seen it."
Kakarroto looked around the stands with something other than fear and anger for the first time. He stared in awe. This was the first time in his entire life that he honestly felt unique, felt like a true individual. No more "Raditz's little brother," "Bardock's son," or "another third-class." He was Kakarroto, strongest Sayian on the planet. And no one could take that from him.
"And now," King Vegeta continued, snapping Kakarroto from his reverie, "I present to you all the challenger: Elite Superior Nappa!"
The audience was roaring as Nappa flew down from some hidden spot in the crowd to the center of the arena. He raised his thick arms up and down, conducting the audience's cheers like a maestro would conduct his orchestra. Louder… a bit softer… much louder this time… Nappa lowered his arms while King Vegeta raised his hand, and the audience quieted once again.
"Third-class Kakarroto!" King Vegeta shouted, and Kakarroto felt his insides shrivel. "Approach your challenger!"
Kakarroto did just that amongst boos and hisses from the crowd. He felt another "first time in his life"; he'd never before felt his ears burn like this, but knew instantly that his face was turning red. He groaned mentally. Of all places, why now?
Concentrate, he told himself. Ignore them and concentrate. They do not know what they judge just yet.
He looked up when he finally reached the gargantuan Nappa, gazing upon a bushy mustache and hard eyebrows for the third time in such a short time. Such a short time… only mere days… Nappa was wearing an expression Kakarroto had yet to see on him, though. It was one of bloodlust and arrogance with a feral tint in his broad grin. Kakarroto took deep, soothing breaths through his nose and forced himself into a partially meditated state. He needed to calm down; revealing his feelings though the blood in his face wasn't helping his situation at all.
The audience quieted again, but Kakarroto didn't break his gaze with Nappa, even to respect his king. "As is tradition," King Vegeta bellowed once more, "the challenger shall make the first hit, followed by a hit from the challenged. From there, it will be a free-for-all. The match will only be stopped upon the death of one or both of the competitors, the blackening out of one or both of the competitors, or if one or both of the competitors steps off of the arena. The area around the arena is out-of-bounds. Should one of these three incidents happen to both of the competitors at the same time, the contest will be considered a draw, and neither Sayian will be able to challenge each other again for one year." He paused, and there was a thick silence that Kakarroto could feel. He could also feel the power radiating off of Elite Superior Nappa and his tremulous fingers. So he got the first hit, did he? "The rules have been made clear. The challenger is now given permission to make the first strike."
That's what Kakarroto would have heard King Vegeta say, if Nappa hadn't begun his attack from the word "permission." As Kakarroto's attention had still been on King Vegeta's instructions, Nappa caught him off guard and nailed him firmly in the gut with his thick knee. The entire audience went into cheers as Kakarroto stumbled back, struggling to breathe. He knew it was unfair and nothing but foul play, but for Sayians, foul play was the best play.
Kakarroto's ears ringed amongst Elite Superior Nappa's booming laughter. He was beginning to feel his ears go hot again. No, he told himself. Don't loose it just yet. He's not the only one who can play dirty.
He regained his bearings and paused, waiting for the audience around him to stop laughing at him. He expected a silence to concentrate in, like the hush Nappa had received. Eight seconds… fourteen… twenty… Kakarroto realized that, instead of becoming quieter, they were only getting louder with the amount of time that passed. He looked like an idiot, scared stiff, he realized. His jaw trembled, but he clamped it shut, his insides quivering with embarrassment. Even Elite Superior Nappa, who was as tense as a spooked cat, had begun to laugh, that wild look still about him.
Kakarroto studied Nappa: his build, his stance, his form. He noted that Nappa's knees were probably weak with all the weight that was sitting on them, and that, even though he was tall, his arms weren't exactly proportional. They were several inches shorter than what they should be. And, Kakarroto's battle-trained eyes noticed, he was leaning on his left leg, and his right one wasn't as tense as it should have been, probably due to his laughter…
Quick as a flash, he pounced. Flying forward with speed Nappa just barely caught, Kakarroto came upon him and lifted his knee as if to return the generous gesture Nappa had given only seconds ago. As his right leg wasn't prepared and his left one was preoccupied, Nappa lowered his right hand and caught Kakarroto's knee. But the attacker was expecting precisely that, so Kakarroto's left fist rose to meet with the side of Nappa's ribs, just under his right shoulder.
Only Nappa and Kakarroto could hear the crack that followed.
There was a collective gasp, and then silence. Nappa stood still, staring at him in disbelief. Kakarroto was torn between disbelief at his own power and a rapidly growing thrill. First in his stomach, then spreading to his limbs, and then to his face. He broke out in a smile. Delighting at the awed look on Nappa's face, Kakarroto's Sayian instincts caught up with him, and he twisted his smile into a bloodthirsty smirk. He sprung backwards and crouched down into a waiting stance.
The only things that Nappa moved, however, were his eyes, as he watched Kakarroto's graceful movements. Every spectator was silent and in shock. Kakarroto took a brief glance around the crowd and felt his delight grow, the pleasure reaching a delicious peak as he noted the looks on both King Vegeta and Prince Vegeta's faces. Kakarroto looked back at Nappa, who was now just starting to move. He looked down and touched his side delicately, wincing at the pain. But when he looked up, there was a strange gleam in his eyes.
"Just as I expected," Nappa whispered softly, but with the surrounding crowd quiet, Kakarroto could clearly hear him. "You are one of a kind, third-class. It'll be a blast fighting you."
"My name's Kakarroto, Nappa," Kakarroto growled back, making his opponent's bushy eyebrows dance at the lack of respect in his address, "and I thought we were fighting."
"Not quite yet," he chuckled, rubbing his damaged ribs for a second before crouching into position. "You don't know the meaning of the word fight yet."
And Nappa was on him. Kakarroto did a quick switch from his feet to his hands just in time to catch Nappa's muscular abdomen with the soles of his boots. Nappa grunted and tried to catch Kakarroto's legs and his balance, but he couldn't find either in time. Kakarroto leaned backwards and shoved Nappa into the sky with his feet. Elite Superior Nappa was only visible for a split-second, however, because he quickly vanished, moving at a speed equivalent only to light.
Kakarroto and he were soon locked in a fistfight, hovering above the ground as if they had been born in the sky. There were cheers going on all around in the crowd, and even though his ears logically told him that Bulma's cheers were among the loudest of them all, Kakarroto blotted them all out, even her cries, concentrating on nothing other than the sound of flesh hitting flesh.
Nappa and Kakarroto suddenly caught each other's hands, squeezing them viciously and bearing their teeth; both then attempted to harm the other with their lower extremities, but these did them no more service than their fists had. At one point Kakarroto found himself in a lock with Nappa, hands and knees both unable to move. Before he could think of what to do next, Nappa somehow hit him in the side of his gut. Kakarroto's eyelids flickered, but he didn't relent, instead trying to find the source of his problem; Nappa's tail was starting to beat his side with an amount of force that could not be ignored. Kakarroto almost laughed. He had never heard of a Sayian using its tail as a weapon.
Only among the Super Elites.
…Only among Elite Superior Nappa.
Kakarroto put a huge amount of force into shoving both his and the super elite's arms downward; he fell forward and cracked his cranium against Nappa's violently. Ignoring the searing pain attempting to split his head in two by concentrating on Nappa's howl of pain, he flew diagonally full force towards the grass surrounding the arena. Closer he got… closer… Nappa still hadn't regained his composure. He was almost there…
With a huge burst of energy, Nappa put a hefty amount of effort into swinging Kakarroto and himself around, and he succeeded. Kakarroto realized with a surge of horror that Nappa was now the one on top of him, and that he was going to be the unfortunate loser crashing into the ground. Amongst his second of panic, his concentration was altered, and he could hear Bulma's cheers clearly…
Kakarroto urgently began to slow down, but at this rate all was lost. He wasn't even five seconds from the ground. He racked his brain as fast as he could… Something to do; there must be something he could do. But there was nothing! The quickest way to stop would be to run into something, but he couldn't run into anything out here! He needed more time; he needed more time to slow down in the air.
He could do nothing more than scream as he emitted a blast of energy from his back, crumpling and destroying the ground beneath him. He and Nappa quickly went below the normal ground level, deep into the newly made chasm, giving Kakarroto plenty of time to stop. He eventually halted, and, taking a very quick moment to note with delight Nappa's look of astonishment, tried to shove the super elite off of him and into the walls of surrounding rock. The burly Sayian took a leaf out of Kakarroto's book, however, and blasted the ground out of his way. But this distraction gave Kakarroto enough time to return safely to ecstatic cheers and the arena above.
Kakarroto watched Nappa return to the ring with an eerie patience. The Sayian just shook his head and smirked, wiping the sweat off his brow. He was panting.
"You're something, you know that? Honestly the best I've ever fought," he complimented in his booming voice. Kakarroto chuckled.
"Why thank you. And to think that you can decide that when we haven't even been five minutes into our match yet. I must be pretty damn good."
"I know. Imagine…"
"And you imagine that I will be the best that you will ever fight, because it's already come true."
Nappa only chuckled, wiping some crud away from his nose with the top of his hand. Kakarroto glanced over at Bulma to see that she was jumping up and down, hollering for joy. He smirked in pleasure, and his spirits soared. He turned his attention back to Nappa, sinking down into an offensive position—only to find that Nappa wasn't there.
Kakarroto wasn't fast enough. He heard Nappa behind him a fraction of a second later, and he did his best to dodge the oncoming blow, but it seemed that Nappa, even with all his bulk, had gotten the advantage of surprise. Nappa's elbow collided with Kakarroto's shoulder blade, sending him flying in the opposite direction. But Kakarroto was lucky. Had he not moved at all, Nappa's elbow would have hit him in the back of his neck, possibly killing him then and there.
Kakarroto should know. He'd killed someone in a very similar manner only a few days ago.
The third-class Sayian regained his composure quickly and sprung back to meet Nappa in a brutal free for all. Both took turns on offensive and defensive strides, emitting power incomprehensible to a majority of the spectators in the stands. Everyone soon realized that this low-class Sayian—this Kakarroto—was not an average third-class. Some were even so bold to believe that, perhaps, Kakarroto may very well be stronger than Elite Superior Nappa.
Nappa himself was one of those bold few.
Kakarroto slowly managed to back Nappa up as they were fighting, forcing him by sheer nearness to take one step back at a time. Slowly they both approached the edge of the ring, and the crowd was starting to get louder and louder. If they were a group of unruly lower-class Sayians, Kakarroto was sure fights would have broken out among the audience by now, but, from what he could see out of his peripheral vision, they were still in their seats. He concentrated more on Nappa's frightened expression and on how close they were to the edge of the arena now.
"Looks like this battle is over," Kakarroto grunted, his pupils dilating with excitement. Nappa blocked three more vicious punches, the sweat and blood dripping off his face.
Kakarroto kicked at Nappa's feet and tripped him up, throwing a punch to his face directly afterwards. For a fraction of a second, it might have looked like Kakarroto had won. Nappa began to fly back; the edge of the arena was no more than several feet away. But Nappa reacted quickly, and in a manner that Kakarroto didn't expect at all. Grabbing the arm that had just delivered a punch to his face, Nappa regained his balance on the arena and began swinging his opponent in circle. Kakarroto fought to keep his world from becoming a blur.
"Yes, it sure is," he heard Nappa sputter, just before letting go of Kakarroto's arm and sending him, instead, flying towards the ground. The wind whistled in Kakarroto's ears; he could no longer hear the audience even if he wanted to. His vision was gone, his stomach uneasy, Nappa was out of arm's reach, but he had to do something…
Kakarroto quickly decided to pull a leaf out of Nappa's book, and he darted out with his long tail as fast as he could. Before Nappa even realized what was going on, he felt a furry appendage wrap around his thick leg and yank him forward. Kakarroto yelled out, pulling as hard as he could; it wasn't every day he had to use his tail to pull extremely heavy objects, and the effort was killing him. Holding his opponent close, Kakarroto used physical laws and the angle he had been thrown to twirl Nappa around with him. It all happened so fast, and they were so close to the ground, that Nappa didn't have enough time to react. Before he knew it, Nappa was driven into the ground, his opponent balancing precariously on top of him.
The crowd was screaming when Kakarroto finally got his bearings fully about him. When he realized that he'd succeeded in making Nappa lose, in staying on top of him and not touch the ground, emotions swelled up inside of him. He grinned, tilted his head back and howled towards the air.
Nappa was scowling, trying to push Kakarroto away. "Get off me, you crazy dog," he mumbled bitterly, giving the younger a good shove onto his bottom. Kakarroto rolled on his back and began laughing triumphantly while Nappa stood up. He felt nothing but complete bliss, a floating sensation—he was floating on his victory and the cheers of the crowd. He opened his eyes and looked to the stands to see Bulma literally crying for joy. Crying over his honor. His heart swelled with a feeling he'd never experienced before. He felt such a yearning, lying there, watching her… He tilted his head in awe and admiration. It was strange, but… it occurred to him then that the only thing he wanted was to have her close, by his side. Forever.
That would be perfect.
He climbed to his feet amongst ecstatic cheers of the crowd. Lightheaded with excitement, he flew up seven feet and moved to hover in the center of the arena, eyelevel with the middle of the stands. He looked down at Bulma's blue hair from above and shouted, lifting his arm high in the air. He laughed and turned around towards the royalty box. He looked squarely at King Vegeta and hollered again, his voice no louder than any of the others in the stands. The king tilted his head back a little. Prince Vegeta was no where to be seen.
King Vegeta raised his hand, but the audience didn't seem to be looking at him. He held it there for several more long moments, but still to no prevail. Kakarroto began to smirk, and, to put the king out of his misery, he pointed at him, directing the entire audience to their superior. They only then began to silence. Elite Superior Nappa floated up in the sky next to Kakarroto, looking solemn and impassive. Kakarroto marveled at how flat Nappa's countenance was; if it weren't for the fact that he was sweating profusely and bleeding, he would have given no indication to any stranger that he had just been in a rigorous fight.
"I declare the winner of this match to be third-class Kakarroto, son of Bardock." There was another round of screaming and hollering. Kakarroto could do nothing more than smirk and tilt his head back in arrogant pleasure. "The loser: Elite Superior Nappa IV, son of Nappa III."
The Sayians began screaming wildly and shouting, cutting off whatever King Vegeta was about to say. Nappa grunted and turned towards Kakarroto, poking his shoulder. Kakarroto answered his poke with a look, and, noticing Nappa's outstretched hand, took it and shook it with his own.
"It was all luck," Nappa mumbled, frowning at him. Kakarroto grinned; the audience was so loud that no one could hear them except themselves.
"You seriously call it luck? You don't believe that."
"I know."
Nappa squeezed his hand tighter, but, at the same time, his frown softened and his eyes twinkled. "It was a pleasure battling with you, third-class."
"Kakarroto."
"Kakarroto."
"And it was a blast battling with you, Elite Superior Nappa."
Not waiting for King Vegeta to even start what he was trying to say, Nappa floated to the ground and sauntered off the arena, heading towards the palace. Kakarroto watched him go; many Sayians swarmed around Nappa, claiming that Kakarroto had cheated somehow, that Nappa was a brilliant, unmatchable fighter, that the outcome had to be only a crazy fluke. To all of these, the burly Sayian merely nodded his head, but, from what Kakarroto could perceive, he wasn't swallowing any of it. One Sayian fought his way hard to Nappa's side and said that Kakarroto was a third-class, and they were all of them filthy cheaters.
Nappa stopped dead, forcing someone to walk into his back. His troupe fell silent, staring at Nappa and the man who had just spoken. Kakarroto watched as Nappa poked him in the chest. "Now you listen: I do not know or care to know what your definition of a third-class is, but whatever it is, you cannot group him with them. He cannot be defined that way. He is different!" He paused and looked around. By now, most of the people in the stands had quieted and were watching as well. With a swallow and a thoughtful look (or as thoughtful of a look as Nappa could summon), he continued steadily, "They are all, all of them different. Today I was beaten by a Sayian that you refer to as a 'third-class.' So now does that make him a super elite? Or maybe even a level greater? Or, perhaps, does that make me the dust of Vegetasei? No! I won't have it! I have been beaten by Kakarroto, not something that will make me no greater than the spit that flies from your lips!"
There was complete silence now, and people were so stunned that Nappa had to shove several by-standers out of his way just to keep heading for the palace. Kakarroto blinked, feeling another emotion that he'd never felt before. He chuckled to himself and smiled a genuine smile, looking more handsome than ever before. This was what memories were made of.
He floated to the ground, yet he wasn't swarmed with admirers like Nappa had been. Not a single stranger in the stands ran out to him. They all seemed shocked by Nappa's message. Shaking their heads and glancing warily at him, a majority of the audience slowly and quietly stood up, floating thoughtfully back to the palace. Some cocked their heads and arrogantly flicked their tails. One Sayian even shouted, "You're still just another third-class to me!"
Kakarroto's spirits fell sharply. He was too bewildered to be angry. They had just been cheering madly for him ten seconds ago! Why had they stopped caring?
Something collided with his right side, wrapping its arms around him. Catching a pleasant scent and a fleeting glimpse of blue locks, Kakarroto turned his head to see Bulma holding him tight, squealing into his arm. He smiled. Perhaps their admiration didn't mean so much to him, after all…
Not at the moment, anyway.
"Kakarroto, you were wonderful! Absolutely brilliant! I can't believe how awesome you were! Faster than my eyes could keep up with! Oh, and that last part, you were so clever! I would have never thought of that—how did you think of it? Oh I'm sure you can't explain it. It must have been nothing but sheer brilliance—instinct! You're such a wonderful fighter!"
Chi-Chi strolled up behind her sister, trying to look as distant as she could and doing a terrible job. Her eyes were dark and stormy with emotion. Her mouth cocked in a half-grin, she shoved Kakarroto's free shoulder in a supposed playful manner, yet it was hard enough to knock Kakarroto back a step. Bulma gave her a cold look.
"It's hard to imagine that only this morning Raditz and I were holding you down," Chi-Chi mumbled, crossing her arms. She returned the coldness Bulma was throwing at her.
Kakarroto smirked. "Yea, I was pretty great, wasn't I?" Chi-Chi snorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"Aren't you going to brag to me like you did the other night?" she asked loudly. "Aren't you going to use sweet words and try to win me over? Remember that? In the kitchen?"
Bulma's hold on his shoulder didn't falter, but Kakarroto could somehow feel something was working in her mind. His bliss was slipping away. He felt a small flame of hate surge through his veins, but he calmed it and held Bulma closer.
"No, Chi-Chi, from now on, you can play that game by yourself, because I've found something much better than any haughty first-class rubbish could give me. And you know what it is? Happiness, and I've found it, no thanks to you. You can't give me that. You can't even give Raditz that."
It was suddenly Bulma who was clutching him tighter. He glanced down to see her blue eyes looking up at him, shining with tears again, this time from emotions not related to adrenaline. He grinned down at her and then looked up.
Chi-Chi's lips were tight. She snorted as if his statement was nothing more than dribble, but her eyes had darted to the ground. Bardock suddenly appeared behind her, smiling softly. Chi-Chi looked up again; her face was whiter than ever.
"Good show, Kakarroto, good show!" Bardock said, patting his son on his free shoulder and taking a step back. "Very good. I didn't know you could fight like that!"
"You probably should have watched me sometime, Dad," Kakarroto said. "I'm sure you would have picked it up then."
"Oh, I always thought that bumbling was nothing more than alley fights, so to speak."
"I know you did."
"Huh… But you were splendid, Kakarroto, simply splendid! I don't believe I've ever witnessed a fight quite like that in my entire life! That will be one to remember… I'll tell my grandkids about that one someday. If I haven't forgotten it by then, in old age of course. Oh, but I'm sure I won't forget it…"
"No, you won't," Bulma whispered with pride. "Even if I have to remind you three times a day for the rest of your days." Kakarroto squeezed her briefly. Chi-Chi said nothing.
"We'll let's get home, then, shall we?" Bardock suggested, a hint of anxiety in his voice. He was looking around at the disappearing audience as if he were afraid one of them would sneak up and attack him from behind just for talking to Kakarroto.
"Yes, let's," Chi-Chi agreed, turning and making the first move. Bardock looked around.
"All right… where's Raditz?"
Chi-Chi answered: "He left about the time the battle had ended. Prince Vegeta had asked to speak with him, and of course they couldn't talk with such a commotion going on—"
"No big deal, I'll go find Raditz," Kakarroto offered, wanting nothing more than to be able to see the expression on his brother's face. He was almost rottenly giddy at the thought.
"He's talking to Prince Vegeta!" Chi-Chi said, stopping to turn around and stare angrily at Kakarroto. The taller shrugged.
"And if he's still talking to him, I'll leave them alone! I just wanna see me brother! Get off my back!" Kakarroto made a noise in his throat, gently removed Bulma from his side, and turned to stalk off.
But he stopped. "Where'd they go?" he demanded. Chi-Chi laughed pompously.
"That way," she said, lifting her hand and pointing towards the palace's courtyard. Kakarroto turned and headed for just that.
The farther away he got from the stadium, the quieter and quainter it became. He was now on the northern side of the palace territory; an area of careful gardeners, beautiful foliage and banned fighting. It was a place of midnight strolls, quiet meditation, and ambition-lacking dreams. It wasn't any place of the likes that Kakarroto had ever been to or heard of. With its soft sunshine touching what had to be Vegetasei's largest patch of green on its ruby red soil, Kakarroto was at a loss as to what to think of it. So instead, he focused on finding Raditz.
As he got deeper and deeper into the garden, parts of it hidden by beautiful nine-foot high walls of well-trimmed brush and thick-trunked trees, Kakarroto's hair began to stand on end. He took softer footsteps, his ears keenly tuned for any noise other than his shallow breathing. Somehow the aura of the beautiful garden had grown strangely eerie, and he felt that with each billow of the wind he was getting closer and closer to something… But, he thought with a squirming stomach, he couldn't quite place his finger on it.
As he was just about to turn another hedge, he heard a voice on the other side, so close and loud that it made him jump. He bit the inside of his lip and tensed his muscles, calming himself down. It was only Raditz's voice. Kakarroto had found him.
He relaxed and opened his mouth to say something witty, but before he could, he caught the tone of Raditz's voice. With a few more seconds, Kakarroto also caught what Raditz was saying, and it was enough to keep him silent—and more than enough to tense him up again.
"Well, sire, she's a good choice. Very good, I should know… But sire, I don't know if… I don't know if that can be done. I don't know if I can just—give her to you like that."
"And why not?" It was Prince Vegeta. "Are you daring to deny my orders?"
"But sire, I can't do it! I can't even imagine doing it. She's my—"
Prince Vegeta was nearly shouting in return. "I don't care what she is to you or whatever sacrifice you have to make! I am the prince, and my word is law! You cannot refuse me, Raditz, or I will publicly detail and behead you. You are sworn to serve me!"
"I know, my prince, I know! Prince Vegeta, I mean… I'm just asking you to think this over. Do you really think this is a wise move? I mean, you've been denying girls left and right, so why should this one be any different—"
"She is different! I've never seen anything so beautiful, and I want her now nearly as much as I want Frieza dead. You can't deny me what I want!"
"I thought you were refusing females for your own safety!" Raditz suddenly cut in, so loud that Kakarroto's intake of breath was sharp. He could feel the tension and anxiety radiating off of both of them, and it was making him doubly nervous. He was damp with perspiration. Suppose they should find him like this? How could he even begin to explain himself? "Suppose Frieza should find out about this! Suppose he decides to take her from you, to use her against you and the people of Vegetasei! What would be the point of having her then?"
There was a pause. Kakarroto listened intently for several seconds, waiting for Prince Vegeta's reply. It occurred to him after the pause became particularly long that he might have been spotted. Kakarroto's stomach lurched, and he tried to straighten up so he could tiptoe away. A bead of sweat fell across his right temple. But Prince Vegeta continued before he took one step, and Kakarroto was rooted to the spot again.
"Just because we were together on Frieza's ship for far too long does not mean you have any privilege whatsoever to judge me," he said softly. "You do not know me, Raditz. Contrary to whatever you seem to be thinking, I have no feelings of anxiety for anyone's safety… other than my own." He took a deep breath. "You try to back-talk me like this again and I will drive my hand through your neck, do you hear me loud and clear?"
"…Yes my prince. I just wanted to make sure you were certain about your decision."
"I am always 'certain.'"
"Yes my prince." Kakarroto heard a deep intake of breath precede a long, slow exhale. "Well I'm sure this will come as a surprise to everyone. I mean, she's not a super elite, and your family has a tradition—"
"I'm not one for keeping traditions."
"Yes sire… At least she's not a third-class…"
Prince Vegeta grunted. Kakarroto listened with bated breath to Raditz's shuffling feet. His eyes widened, watching the bend around the wall of foliage with horror.
"So," Raditz suddenly said, "do you—do you want me to—to tell her as soon as I get home, sire?"
"No. I'll send Nappa to do it tomorrow since you don't seem to have the backbone. Plus, if she were notified early, she might try to run from me…"
"Sire," Raditz mumbled indignantly, "I have the honor to do whatever you would wish of me… You needn't send Nappa—"
"Yes, Raditz, I do need," Prince Vegeta barked, "because Nappa also has to take care of some business while he's there that you can't do."
"Business? What orders does he hav—"
"It is HIS business, Raditz, and the reason that it is HIS business is because I do not want it to be YOUR business! You do understand?"
"Yes, yes my prince, of course!"
Kakarroto could hear that the conversation was coming to a close. He couldn't possibly escape now. They would surely hear him or spot him. He had to think of something quick. He wiped touches of sweat away from his face.
"Return to your home now, Raditz, I have nothing more to say to—"
"So here you are!" Kakarroto interrupted, coming around the bend. He watched their startled faces with a rapidly thumping heart, stepping forward casually and shoving Raditz's shoulder gently. He looked from Raditz's strained face to Prince Vegeta's slightly pink one and smirked. "I've been looking for you ever since Chi-Chi told me you headed off in this direction." He looked towards Prince Vegeta and bowed, feeling like it was the stupidest move of his entire life; he could practically feel heat rays shooting out from Prince Vegeta's eyes, into his neck. He straightened up and continued, "If I may, my prince, I'd like him to escort me home. I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
Kakarroto began to sweat under Prince Vegeta's scrutinizing gaze. He knew… he knew… he must know… It was so obvious. What should he do? Should he just admit to eavesdropping right now? No, that would be stupid… But what if he made a run for it? Right now, if he caught them off guard, he could probably get away; he was pretty fast, even if he did say so himself. But no, that would be a stupid move too. There was no where on Vegetasei he could run to where he wouldn't be found sooner or later.
Prince Vegeta tilted his head back slightly, just as his father had done when Kakarroto had won the fight. Kakarroto's attention was demanded to Prince Vegeta's eyes again, and he kept them steadily there. It occurred to him then that he wasn't exactly a master of disguising his emotions; whatever he felt, he had always let everyone know. Each breath he took was forced and straining him.
"That was one hell of a fight, third class," Prince Vegeta finally said in a soft voice. Kakarroto winced, despite himself. Prince Vegeta's expression then became one of curiosity; Kakarroto could have kicked himself, his stomach shriveling inside of him.
"Thank you very much, sire," he mumbled quickly. He darted his eyes to Raditz, unable to take the prince's cold onyx stare any longer. "Good fight, eh Raditz?"
Raditz grunted. Kakarroto forced a small smirk, but it quickly disappeared as he turned and looked at his prince. Prince Vegeta studied him for a second longer before he sniffed and the pupils in his eyes dilated, becoming so large that Kakarroto could no longer tell what was pupil and what was dark iris. They were eyes that belonged to an animal, and it almost seemed out of place that Prince Vegeta wasn't a wild beast madly trying to strike at him. Kakarroto's insides squirmed and his knees were growing weaker by the second.
"Yes, you may certainly take Raditz home," he said in a heavy voice. "We've finished all important business in our conversation, haven't we Raditz?"
Raditz nodded, bowed and mumbled something inaudible. Prince Vegeta nodded in return. "Good then. You may go." Even with his words, though, his tone didn't sound final, and neither Kakarroto nor Raditz had budged an inch when Prince Vegeta continued, looking eerily at Kakarroto with those overly large pupils, "Expect a visit from Elite Superior Nappa soon, you two."
Kakarroto didn't move, didn't even stop staring at Prince Vegeta until Raditz started tugging on his arm. He had a hard time stumbling away; his legs felt like jelly. So Vegeta had known after all? He hadn't hid his secret as well as he thought he had. But, no, perhaps he had. There was still the chance…
So why had Vegeta stared so pointedly at him while speaking? Kakarroto pondered over that, absent-mindedly floating into the air after Raditz. He knew what it meant, of course. Like Prince Vegeta had said, he was going to send Nappa to pick up Chi-Chi. But why stare at him like he had—
It was then that Kakarroto washed over that statement again. He was struck with horror, and, despite himself, a great sense of pity. This wasn't fair for Chi-Chi not to know. She was helpless, defenseless. He studied Raditz while his brother wasn't looking. The expression on his face was a lost and helpless one, and, despite himself, he felt sympathy.
Minutes earlier it would have seemed only second nature to think of females as prizes and trophies to be grabbed and had. But now, after his fight with Elite Superior Nappa and his revelation with Bulma, he didn't want it to happen to her. He didn't want Chi-Chi to be harmed. Despite his loathing of her cruelty, he felt a new respect for her and all females, especially his Bulma. But what should he do? What could he do?
He could do a lot. And, Kakarroto thought as he flew through the crisp afternoon air of Vegetasei, easily keeping up with Raditz, he'd decided resolutely what he would do.
---
Oooh, what is Kakarroto's decision? Does Prince Vegeta know Kakarroto's overheard him? And what's going to happen to Chi-Chi? That's next week…
Pudgoose