Chapter 5
That woman is completely out of her mind, if she thinks that he'll listen to her.
Again, that is.
With the way it had been before they got here, he didn't have any choice in the matter of listening to her, because his stomach apparently wanted food, and she had that power to make food. He still wants the food, and she still has that power to make him food, but from that moment that he gets food into his stomach, she must not make the mistake of giving him orders again.
She must not realise just who he is, that must be the case with her here. In all of his glorious power, he could leave her in glorious ruins, just to prove his own glory. And yet, she has the decency to tell him what to do, and challenge him to crush her with his finger? Just who in this world does she think she is? More especially, to give him, Zamaku orders.
'I hate her,' he spitefully says to his reflection in the bathroom.
Just the thought of her, not being on her toes, and not quivering in fear like the rest of her acquaintances, Supreme Kai included, makes him particularly distasteful towards her. And more, she does the ridiculous thing of challenging him at every turn, thus, he has a particular dislike for her.
'I will not tolerate her any longer,' he says to his reflection again.
All this time that he's been in the bathroom, staring hard into the mirror, and concentrating his thoughts on this Chi-Chi weakling, who has been able to do things to his body, that his strong and dominant mind couldn't prevent, he's been particularly bothered with her lack respect for him.
As he was coming to the bathroom, he tried to get her into her proper place, by making his eyes blaze with his absolute power, topping it with a smirk to threaten her, and yet, as much as she turned away from him, he doesn't believe that he achieved his goal. But of all the people, she's the one who had to be this disobedient and hard to follow just how powerful he is? Someone as insignificant as she is?
Well, Zamaku draws his eyebrows together, no more!
If it's the only thing that he has to do to put her in her place, he'll show her! He'll put her in her place, and then she will be like the rest of them; frightened to death by his mere existence.
There's a reason that she doesn't fear you, all of a sudden floats around in his head, making his scowl deepen.
There's that soft taunting of words again, surfacing out of turn, and reducing him to a less-than mental stature. It's sufficient already, that this weakling woman has toned him down quite a sizeable amount, only to endure this taunting from within himself as well?
Unacceptable!
He simply will not allow himself to seem divided among himself!
He's Zamaku, the most supreme being that will ever walk the Earth, and grace it with his undeserved-by-it splendour. How can he stand as supreme, if there's a little voice of opposition inside him, that's probably the reason that his body fails to do as it's supposed to in the first place?
It's highly unacceptable!
Furious to a degree with himself, for having a slight separation within himself, when he should be perfectly whole and supreme, he brings his hands to stand flat against each other under his chin, in a prayer stance. It's an attempt to get his mind to a calm, meditative state, so that whatever part of his brain finds it fitting to rebel against the bigger part of his mind, can come to a resolution.
As he begins to close his eyes to aid his mind in calm meditation, however, he spies in the mirror, how his reflection's hair, begins to glow a dull grey colour. The hair itself, he notices, doesn't change colour, it's only the air surrounding his hair that changes colour. Too fast than it fitting for someone of his stature, he snaps his eyes wide open, to meet this change head on. Silently, he scolds himself for reacting like that, because as a supreme being, acting hastily, spells out an abomination that shouldn't happen to him; fright.
'Unacceptable,' he mutters through gritted teeth to his reflection.
Fright, fear or being caught unawares, are things that he cannot put up with, much less entertain to be part of his being. He realises that instead of calming his mind, his body apparently acted without his permission, and began to call upon all of its power to the surface, but that shouldn't have caught him off guard, that he had to show weakness like that.
Feeling slight fury (more than a degree) with himself, he again makes to act in a way to tame himself into complete synchronisation. He quickly tears his hands apart, and then uses those same hands, to violently rip his clothes from himself. Two very tight and forceful tugs from either hand, are all it takes to make all of his clothes come off of his body.
This body of his, he tells himself, he has to examine, and see where it is not attached together properly. Wherever is body is not properly together, that place, he will identify as the place where the miscommunication happens, that prevents his body from fully obeying the will of his mind.
With his clothes off, leaving him only in his shoes, Zamaku pries his eyes away from his reflection in the mirror, to run them over his body. His eyes slowly travel from his boots, up his feet, past his dark blue underwear, and then up to his stomach. He encounters a little difficulty with studying his chest, and so he spreads is arms out on either side of him, to make it possible to see his chest better.
His outstretched arms don't make his view better, although, he does get a good look at the defined muscles on his arms, and that puts a cocky smile on his face. Before, he wouldn't have said that his body had been like this, to this extreme. Because of that, he takes his eyes back to the mirror, to look at his reflect, if only to see his cocky smile reflected back at him.
'Zamaku...' he carefully gets out of his mouth with admiration.
When he takes his glowing aura, and the definition on his body, and his limitless abilities to improve on his limitless abilities, into careful consideration like he's doing now, there's every reason to savour his own name from his mouth. There can't be a single person in the world who has it like he has it. He's the single most amazing being in the world. To prove this to himself, he suddenly lets out an unwarrantedly loud growl, from the bottom of his lungs.
'Aaaaaaaahhhhh!'
He does it, more so to push out tremendous power from him, and make the ground beneath him shake in fear of him, than he does it for anything else. He wants to affirm himself with the violent vibrating of the ground beneath his feet, and the rigorous reverberation of his growl that speaks dimensions of his singularity. He wants to feel the Earth stop for him, as though it was falling apart, just so as to make him feel satisfyingly affirmed.
When the first palpitations rise beneath his feet, signalling just what he intended for them to do, the cocky smile on his face, grows to a larger grin, that spells out all of the superiority within him. Aside from his grin, deep inside him, as the after-effects of his growl do their work around him, he feels like an invincibly invisible being, flying at the speed of light, as the speed of light, towards a greater light, that cannot diminish his light, even when he reaches it.
Because of that feeling, a primarily guttural laughing sound, leaves the back of his throat, transforming into an uncivilized cackle that escapes through his mouth. The laughter doesn't just stop when it comes out of his mouth, it also reaches up to his eyes, infected them to glow up tremendously
Ah! The self-importance, that he feels so on top of right now!
This, this, this...
This is even better than he expected the reaction to his action to be. He didn't calculate the reaction, to bring this much satisfaction to himself.
This, this, this is so much better than what he could've possibly imagined! He supposes that if he were to punch himself in the stomach-
'Uuuf!' he moans out, barely managing to keep from being effected by his own punch.
What in the world?
Baffled and beyond, he looks down at his stomach, to find that indeed, his right fist, is still very much connected to his body. But then, he doesn't even get to take that in, and analyse it, to understand it, because he hears the bathroom door burst open, bringing in an unwelcome presence.
'Goku!' her scathing voice breaks through the air.
Just like that, with that one word, the whole atmosphere of reaction that he'd created just a moment ago, dies in the air. With no sign of apology, his atmospheric empire just crumbled and fell like it was never there to begin, which leaves him a little more than baffled. If he had to choose the right word to describe his feelings right now...
If he had to pick a word, his teeth begin to chatter...
If he had to pick a word, his heart starts to pound like crazy...
'Goku,' she gasps, 'what happened to you?'
Whether it was intentional on her part or not, he slowly finds himself pulling from his mind, pulling from the stuck place where he'd been, trying to accumulate his feelings into one, so that he could react appropriately. Reluctantly, he sharply cuts his eyes from his fist on his stomach, (involuntarily dropping his arm too) to look at the person who is now standing in front of him, with a worried look on her face.
This weakling woman! His mind seethes. He hates her. He really hates her.
He hates that he feels some type of way towards the worried look on her face.
He hates that he can't pick up where he left off, and just fall right back into his self-affirming act, because of her presence.
He hates that her eyes evidently spot the place where he punched himself, and how her fingers are reaching out to touch that place.
He hates how delicately she's feathering that spot, as though there is a contusion forming, and she wants to make it disappear.
But most of all, he hates how she looks back up at him, with a barrel of compassion in her eyes for him, which consequently tugs him to feel like a mere being. Like a mere mortal. Like a mere mortal confined to the rubbish weakness of inferiority.
He hates that!
He hates her. He really hates her.
No one, absolutely no one, has that right, to make him feel like he is as everybody else is. How dare she show him emotion? How dare she try to pull him down from his supreme place, by showing him concern and compassion?
Concern? For who?
Compassion? For him?
'What happened?' she repeats.
Oddly, he finds himself answering, 'I punched myself.'
No more than he can explain, how and why his arm punched his stomach in the first place, can he explain why, through all of his current feelings towards, he chose to answer her.
'I don't understand,' Chi-Chi shakes her head to emphasise her point. 'Why would you do this to yourself, Goku?'
He doesn't give her an answer right away, and it's in that brief, seemingly never-ending silence, that he regains himself. Thanks to that look in her eyes, that frightened look in her eyes, he's reminded of who he is, of who he was, before she came into the bathroom, and he started hating her.
Yes, he thinks, a mental gleeful smile visible in his mind, this is what he should hold onto.
'Because I'm Zamaku,' he forcefully answers, just as forcefully taking hold of her wrist.
He's a little surprised at how obedient his arm is at grabbing her, when it had punched him without permission before, but he loves the development too greatly, to let surprise dictate him.
'Now,' he orders, pointing at the floor between them, 'get on your knees!'
He's suddenly craving the euphoric pleasure of being bowed down to. Having remembered his supreme place in the world, he wants to have that taste of specific reverence that comes from being worshipped, as a being unlike any other. Especially from a weakling such as the woman before him.
