Rock Your World
Part 12 – Questions
I was still sitting in the woods playing Ongaku when Vegeta showed up. I was improvising a lighter, more acoustic-sounding version of "Save Me" without even noticing; but as I slipped into the familiar melody of the refrain, I stopped abruptly; realizing what I was playing.
"It sounds better that way," Vegeta said flatly.
"What did you and Bulma talk about?" I asked, standing up.
"The usual; 'stop leaving your crap all over my house you don't even really live here anymore why don't you ever take Trunks anywhere he's your son too why did you suddenly get such an angry look on your face did I say something wrong'." He quoted. I smirked at his impression of Bulma: a ridiculously high-pitched, girly voice that spoke in breathy, run-on sentences. I wished I could record it just to play it back to her and see her face turn red.
"What about you and the Green Bean?" he asked smoothly.
"Piccolo? We just talked about… honesty," I said lamely.
Vegeta smirked, "Care to evaluate?"
"He was just saying that I wasn't open enough with people, and I told him that I'd scare most people if I was."
"You're open with me… aren't you?" I looked at him; he genuinely seemed concerned, as if he was afraid I was lying to him or something.
"Of course," I said truthfully.
He visibly relaxed, leaning against a tree and resting one foot against the trunk.
"How long were you sitting out here?" he continued.
"All morning,"
"It's not morning anymore," he pointed out. I looked at the sky; the sun was setting on the mountains; I'd been out here all day.
Which of course meant that I hadn't eaten anything.
My stomach gave an impatient growl, as if just now realizing it was empty.
Vegeta laughed, "Come on, let's get some dinner. It's my turn to take you somewhere."
I smiled. Piccolo was right; Vegeta was so much happier now that he was with me. He seemed like a totally different person.
I didn't bother to read the name of the restaurant, just followed the prince inside. It was an all-you-can-eat buffet; pretty fitting for a pair of Saiyans, but it was moderately fancy. I realized too late that Ongaku was still strapped across my shoulder, hanging awkwardly across my back.Whatever, I thought, no big deal.
Part of the room in which the buffet was located was taken up by a huge, raised platform; almost like a stage, and there was a large black piano set up in the middle; as if live entertainment performed here often. It wasn't very crowded inside, but there were enough tables taken up to make us wait for a few minutes before we were seated. Despite being a buffet, there was an air of formality. In jeans and a T-shirt, I felt rather out of place – I guess I would be anyway with a guitar and a tail.
Vegeta, however, seemed completely at ease. I reasoned that he'd probably been to formal dinners many times; both from being a prince and from being the significant other of a rich woman like Bulma for some time. He tapped his fingers on the table for a while, simply watching me. It unnerved me, but I wasn't going to get up for food before he did, so I waited.
My stomach growled again, reminding me of my hunger.
"Hungry, Kakarot?" Vegeta smirked. He knew the answer to that, he was just taunting me.
"Maybe," I sulked. He wanted something from me, I didn't know what, but the smell of food hanging thick in the air made me impatient.
The prince chuckled, "We'll both get something to eat soon, don't worry. But first I want to ask you a few things."
"What things?" I raised an eyebrow, wary of this unfamiliar territory.
"You're mad at your son, aren't you?"
I blinked, that had come out of nowhere; what could Vegeta gain from my answer?
"I think he'd confused," I replied carefully, "I'm not mad, per se, just frustrated with him. Why?"
"Ah-ah, I ask the questions tonight, Kakarot." Vegeta reprimanded, "The longer this takes, the longer you have to wait for food."
I pouted. This is supposed to be a date? More like a torture session. Trust the Prince of All Saiyans to come up with food torture.
"Fine, but I won't be able to think straight with the smell of cooking things. You'll probably ask me something deep and personal and I'll blurt out 'sausage!' like the idiot I am." I grumbled.
Vegeta gave me a calculating look.
"I wouldn't be as obsessed with you as I am if I thought you were an idiot, Kakarot."
That silenced me. First of all, I never thought Vegeta would use the word "obsessed" to describe what he felt for me; and second, he called me an idiot all the time.
"Now, will you answer my questions or not?"
I rolled my eyes in completely false annoyance, "Alright, fine. First Piccolo, now you; you people really seem interested in my personal life."
Vegeta chuckled, "Not so personal anymore."
I had no idea what he meant by that.
"Anyway, Kakarot, back to the questions. I wanted to ask you opinion before I told the woman to give me a new Capsule house,"
"What? Why?" I interrupted. Then I shut my mouth when I realized I'd just asked two questions when he'd told me not to.
"Well, both of us are stuck living where we'd rather not for the time being," I started to protest, but he held up a hand to silence me, "I'm sure you don't want to live in your late wife's old house for the rest of your life Kakarot; too many memories, am I right?"
I hesitated before nodding silently.
"And I'm getting just about sick of the woman ordering me around her place," he continued, "So what if we got a new place, just for us?"
Gods, I loved the way he said "us".
"What about Goten?" I was about to add 'and Trunks' as a force of habit, but I managed to stop myself.
Vegeta shrugged, ignoring that I'd asked another question, "Your brat could either live with us, or he could stay at the woman's place. He practically lives there now, as it is."
He had a point there, I had to admit.
"Well… I don't see why not," I said eventually.
"Good. I'll demand –" he caught himself and smirked, "I mean ask the woman to procure a new settlement for us. Three bedrooms, an extra-large bathroom and kitchen, plenty of yard space to spar…"
"Why three bedrooms?" I butted in, forgetting my promise not to ask questions again.
Vegeta got what was very close to a leer on his face, "In the event that the first two get destroyed by a certain pair of Saiyans I think we both know."
I was about to ask him why in the hell we would destroy a perfectly good bedroom when I caught the look in his eye and blushed.
"I don't know if I like the way your mind works, Vegeta. I'm not sure whether I should slap you or agree with your perverse sense of humor."
"Who said anything about a sense of humor? I was dead-serious in my perversion, Kakarot."
I felt the blush deepen.
"One more question before we engorge ourselves;" Vegeta continued, "After we finish what is likely to be a large meal, even by Saiyan standards, will you be able to stand long enough to play me a song?"
I stared at him.
"I guess, I haven't rehearsed any right off hand, but – " my eyes drifted to the stage in the center of the room as I spoke, and I suddenly realized what the prince was asking.
"You mean here? Tonight?" I didn't know if I could do that. My songs were all kind of personal.
"Ordinarily, I'd point out that you've just disobeyed my order for no questions for the fourth or fifth time, but you look so confused that I suppose I can relent."
"You're asking me to play you something in front of all these people?"
"That's the sixth time you've disobeyed," Vegeta smirked, "And yes, Kakarot. Unless you'd rather I make it an order?"
"I-I don't know, Vegeta. I don't know if I can –"
"You've been plucking that lute or whatever you call it all day," Vegeta interrupted, "surely you've had enough practice."
"It's a Gibson electric guitar," I grumbled, "And that's not why I don't think I –"
"You would disappoint your prince?" he asked in a small voice. I stared in shock. He had jutted out his lower lip, his tail was wagging slightly and was meeting my gaze with wide pupils, almost pleadingly. If it were anyone else I would have called it cute.
"It's not very princely to beg," I pointed out.
Vegeta's expression snapped back to his usual scowl, his tail thrashed once in irritation.
"I don't beg; I was attempting to pull off your puppy-dog eyes; I presume I was unsuccessful."
I couldn't help myself; I laughed. I had just gotten a disturbing mental image of a chibi Vegeta with a puppy tail and huge, adorable eyes. It was too much.
"Fine, I give up. I'll play you something. But first, can we get something to eat? I'm starving."
The food was good; and, more importantly, there was a lot of it. After the usual Saiyan ritual of shoveling and gulping vast quantities of various chow; we sat back and relaxed, sighing contentedly at the comfortable sensation of a full stomach.
After a few minutes Vegeta pried again.
"Alright, Kakarot," he began
"Yeah, yeah, I know, you want me to play something. But how do you know they'll even let me?"
His answer surprised me, "I've been here before."
"Really? When?" Curiosity took over and I sat up straight, alert and interested.
"Years ago, with the woman."
I had not expected that.
"Was it a date?"
Vegeta hesitated. I realized I didn't know much about his past relationship with Bulma; I didn't know exactly how close they'd been, if at all.
"I think she wanted it to be. I, however, was….not…familiar with the concept..."
I could almost see Memory Lane reflected in his eyes, it surprised me that he would have even remembered something like that all these years. Then again, Vegeta had done nothing but surprise me since the day he first kissed me.
A self-aware smirk tilted his mouth upwards.
"If I had known then what I know now…" he trailed off.
"You might've acted differently? Thought of things differently?"
He sighed, but didn't answer.
A few seconds passed before the prince snapped out of his daze. He held up a hand as if he was a student in school with all the fingers but one curled down. If I hadn't known better I would have thought he was pointing at the ceiling. Almost immediately, a woman bustled over and blinked at him expectantly.
"Some live entertainment," he said simply, gesturing at me with a smirk. I realize that the hand-raising thing must have been the way to get the… waitress's attention, but I wondered at the single finger bit.
"Oh, really?" the woman fixed me with a bright smile, "You play?"
I swung Ongaku around from across my back so that it was in my lap.
Vegeta got a mischievous glint in his eye, "He sings too,"
"Vegeta-!" I protested. He could make me play, but did he seriously want me to sing too?
He gave me a totally fake wink and a shit-eating – but somehow still smokingly handsome - grin; "Bring it,"
I hoped I'd never hear those two words together in that way again. Especially not from Vegeta. He was teasing me, daring me; knowing that my Saiyan blood wouldn't allow me to turn down a challenge.
I rolled my eyes, "Fine."
My tail wouldn't stay still as I stood; it lashed nervously, twitched in annoyance, and fluffed up with the injustice of it all. The woman led me to the stage and I felt like I was walking to the gallows. I hadn't been this nervous before, ever. Not against Frieza, not against Cell, not even againstBuu - when the whole world actually blew up - it just wasn't fair. Just because I could play didn't mean I wanted to in front of people.
Naturally, when you stand up on stage, people turn to look at you. But normally they only look at you interestedly or confusedly. I felt like every single person was accusing me, expecting me to mess up. Maybe that's what stage-fright was, the fear of being demeaned.
From the stage, the room seemed a lot bigger. There also seemed to be twice as many people and every small movement I made seemed to take conscious effort; even breathing. My eyes found Vegeta at the back of the room and he flashed me a bolstering smile that somehow wasn't mocking, despite the circumstances. I felt braver.
There was a microphone, but I didn't use it, didn't even glance at it twice. My voice projected just fine, even if it shook a little with lingering nerves.
"I wrote this for someone special," I announced, even allowing a smile to taunt the corner of my mouth.
Ongaku sounded twice as loud in the enlarged room, and I almost hesitated; knowing that if I messed up it would be twice as obvious. I remembered Gohan's words as he helped me get started when I first learned to play: "Don't think about it, don't even look at the strings. You don't need to look. If you don't know where the guitar is, you're probably playing the wrong instrument." Strange that the words of the person I was most angry at now gave me the courage I needed right then.
I played the song Piccolo had listened to. The one he said he'd liked. It had been written in a dream, but I made it real, closing my eyes to my unwanted audience and letting the notes wash over me. It was a simple enough tune, but it was hard to get the notes in the right place, they always seemed to move too fast to savor. I'd been writing the lyrics for it all day, but I still hesitated before voicing them; more from nerves than anything else.
The timbre of my voice didn't even sound like my own. It was too confident, too rich and steady. I was sure I was going to make a mistake, but I didn't have to think.
"There was something in your eye
The day that we first met
I thought at first
That it was anger
Anger was all you would let
Yourself feel
Maybe there was something deeper
The day that we first fought
Were you angry at me
Or at yourself?
I never really thought
You could feel
You were a familiar stranger
You watched me day and night
And through it all, you cared
Enough to teach me how to fight
How to stand
How to speak
You made me who I am
Right here…. Right now…Tonight."
My ears didn't register the applause. All I could hear was my own pulse deafening me. I looked up, Vegeta was watching me with something very like the pride he always had in his heritage. He had that kind of pride… in me?
I stepped off the stage hurriedly, still kind of shaky and nervous, even after all that. And traversed the distance to my chair, hooking Ongaku back over my shoulder and sitting down as if I'd run a mile.
I glanced at Vegeta across the table. He smiled at me, another of his genuine smiles that I so rarely got to glimpse. Then he leaned across the space between us and brushed his lips against my cheek.
"That was amazing," he whispered.
"It was all for you," I whispered back, "You know that I love you, right?"
He sat back and smiled again. Twice in four seconds!
"Of course, it shows in everything you do, everything you say."
He was silent for all of three seconds before he added,
"Love you, too."
TBC