Shavneral

Chapter 2 – Vegeta

"I don't know you anymore, Kakarot."

I can't say I was surprised that Kakarot attacked me. I wasn't surprised by that; but I was surprised by the younger Saiyan's appearance. I didn't remember Kakarot ever dressing the way he was dressed now; I didn't remember him having that many scars, or that strange metal claw on his left thumb. There was something wrong with his ears and nose too. But that wasn't the worst of it. It was his eyes, and his voice, that shook me to the core. His once pure, clear voice was grating and guttural, like he was gargling nails; and the innocent, gentle black eyes I remembered were replaced with what I liken to cruel chips of cold flint. This was not the happy-go-lucky, childish Kakarot I had known in another life. This was a twisted, tortured creature that had lived through horrors that left him bereft of his old identity. I wondered what they had done to him to make him forget who he was. Maybe they'd drugged him, maybe they'd brainwashed him, or maybe they'd just beaten him senseless until he could barely remember his own name. Maybe he didn't; I realized, maybe he had absolutely no clue who he was.

Getting to my feet after Kakarot had pounced on me, I jabbed a warning punch at his ribs, and didn't even blink when he caught the punch and cut my wrist with that steel claw or whatever it was. I responded with my own counterattacks; attacks that wouldn't have even fazed the Kakarot I knew. They didn't faze this one either, mind you, but I could tell that he wasn't nearly as strong as he was supposed to be. Otherwise he wouldn't have submitted to these weakling humans.

Ducking as he swung a kick at my head, I attempted something I had never been good at. I tried to reason with him.

"Kakarot, listen to me," I said as we battled on, "This isn't who you are; you've let yourself become a slave,"

"So what?" Kakarot spat in that rasping, ruined voice, slicing at my face with his metal claw thing.

"'So what'? You didn't allow me to become a slave when I gave in to that Babidi creature and turned Majin, why do you let yourself?" I demanded, hoping to stir memories from the younger Saiyan, hoping I could make him remember.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kakarot snarled, deflecting my kick to his shoulder, tail tightening its hold around his waist. I kept my own tail unbound, flicking it in front of me in a gesture of trust; trust I still felt for this man that had become a monster.

"Look inside yourself! This…. this creature you've become isn't the real you!" I snapped, holding Kakarot's flat black gaze for a few painful seconds before I had to look away.

Kakarot just scowled, aiming a punch at my chest which I dodged.

It hadn't been by any means easy to get into this facility. With the woman Bulma's help – and a hefty price in money, sweat, time, and blood – I had managed to infiltrate the building, accompanied by the Namek, Piccolo; who was waiting for my return outside the ring, hidden in the audience. I'd convinced the "handlers" that I was a fighter, using the woman's excuse that I was here as an opponent for the one called Kakarot. It wasn't hard to deceive the guards or the handlers; they weren't exactly bright.

The moment of truth had been when I watched Kakarot leap into the ring… pit…. whatever…. I remember a sinking sense of dread as I saw him land on all fours and roar a challenge to the world. This was no honorable, Saiyan warrior – I doubted he even remembered what the word 'Saiyan' meant – he was more animal than man; and I remember the sorrow that set in as I beheld him up close. The anger, the hate in his eyes; the jagged, poorly healed wounds that had scarred horrifyingly all over his once flawless skin; and the alterations made to his face deliberately. The very thought that some insolent human with a knife had sliced off skin and tissue from a member of my proud race was enough to make me almost sick with rage.

But I'm getting off subject now. My point being, I had worked hard to get into this mess; so I wasn't going to back out unless I got what I came for. And that meant convincing Kakarot to leave this place. He didn't seem to have any particular fondness for the facility – what was it called again? Shav-something – but it seemed he'd been trained like a dog to do only what the humans permitted. It was an outrage.

"Kakarot," I tried again, we were face to face, fists locked together after a simultaneous punch from both of us, "please," I think I might have used that word once in my entire life, "I'm begging you; leave this prison, become a free man once again. They have no hold over you, these humans."

Kakarot's cruel ebony eyes narrowed, I noticed a shallow scar below his right eyelid from some animal's claws tearing his flesh.

"Why should I trust you?" he snapped furiously, "Why should I even listen to you?"

"I…." I was about to repeat myself and say I was his prince, but then I realized he needed to hear something different; he needed a little kindness to convince him I meant him no harm. I sighed; expressing myself was never my strong point, especially when I had to say something nice.

"I… I've known you since you were just a young, reasonably talented kid trying to make his way in the world," I said slowly; may as well start at the beginning, "I've seen you progress, I've watched you mature and surpass me time and time again. I used to hate you, yes. But not long ago I realized you were the only…." I faltered, floundering for the courage to say the word I had to say next, "You were the only friend I'd ever had."

And what did I get for this wrenching, compassionate speech? A vicious punch to the face.

My head snapped back and I staggered, forcing the immediate fury from my veins, forcing myself to remain calm.

"Spare me," Kakarot growled low in his throat, "I've heard enough lies from the men I see every day; I don't need more from you. Your pathetic attempt at deception is revolting,"

Well, I found myself thinking, if anything, his vocabulary is definitely more colorful than I've ever heard.

"Would I lie to you, Kakarot?" I asked softly, the gentle tone feeling unfamiliar in my mouth.

"I don't know, would you?" Kakarot sneered, lashing out with a kick at my knees. I sidestepped the attack, refraining from fighting back. My gaze flitted to the audience that had dwindled to less than a dozen people. Must have gotten bored with the lack of bloodshed, I thought grimly.

"You can't honestly tell me you're happy here?" I implored, surely he wasn't; there was just no way….

"What if I am?" the younger Saiyan snapped, "I wouldn't know, I've never actually been 'happy' in my life."

"Yes, you have," I breathed, almost to myself. I hadn't expected those words to leave my lips, but there they were. It occurred to me that Kakarot had stopped attacking and was just standing there, in a battle stance, looking at me with something like frustrated indecision. I wondered if this was progress or if I was still going in circles.

"What did you say?" Kakarot hissed, there was a quaver of uncertainty in the question though, and I clung to that small dent in the young Saiyan's barrier like it was my lifeline.

"I said yes, you have, Kakarot. I've seen you happy. I remember your smile, though I'm not sure if I could fit it on your face here and now."

"How do you know that person was me?" Kakarot challenged; the anger was back in his voice, "It might have been someone else."

I shook my head slowly, "No, I'd know you anywhere, Kakarot. I know you're still you, you've just forgotten exactly who that is."

"Who should I be then, pray tell?" he snarled, flashing the steel attachment on his thumb.

I didn't reply at first, I just raised my power until I reached Super Saiyan; my hair turning to gold and my eyes turquoise. I jumped up to the next level; with pale blonde hair and an aura of crackling lightning. I watched Kakarot's face for a reaction; any reaction at all.

"You should be a hero, Kakarot. A Super Saiyan, defender of the universe. Your power is even greater than mine. You should be the mightiest warrior alive."

For a moment, just a moment, I saw the most miniscule spark of recognition and hope in the younger Saiyan's midnight eyes. For a moment, he almost looked the way I remembered. But that moment passed, and his expression switched back to disbelieving scorn in an instant, as if the momentary spark hadn't even been there. Maybe it hadn't.

"Can you sense my energy, Kakarot?" I asked eventually, letting go of the transformation and powering down, "Can you sense how much I mean what I say?"

He looked at me like I was speaking a foreign language. I waited for him to answer, watching the anger, the distrust and uncertainty, crawl over his face like a mask.

"You're insane," he said shortly, not meeting my gaze.

I let out a defeated sigh, I'd been on the cusp of a breakthrough with him; but he just couldn't trust, or believe, anyone anymore. His whole world was built on lies and deceit, so that's all he saw in everyone and everything. It was the saddest thing I'd ever seen.

"You're right," I murmured, hopelessness setting in. I was ready to give up. "You're right. I am insane. Insane enough to come to this crack house of a facility and try to pry an animal of a man away from a prison he doesn't even want to escape. You're absolutely right, Kakarot."

Then I turned around, tears burning my eyes, "I thought I could bring you back, Kakarot. But there's just nothing left to bring back now. I'm sorry."

Then I walked away, head bowed in shame, without a second glance, forcing myself to keep walking and not turn around. It was a lost cause; I'd never get through to him. As far as I was concerned, Kakarot was dead now.

"I'm so sorry, my friend," I whispered as I left the arena, and Kakarot, behind.

TBC