Shavneral

Chapter 4 – Vegeta

The Namek greeted me with a curt nod when I joined him in the audience. I leaned against the banister that overlooked the ring below and met his eyes nervously.

"How'd it go?" he asked nonchalantly, shifting his weight to one side.

I sighed, "Terrible."

To my surprise, he chuckled without humor, showing a little of his long canine teeth as he did.

"You really can't do anything right, can you Vegeta?" he muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I sneered, affronted.

"It was a simple enough task," Piccolo tilted his head to one side, "And you came back empty-handed."

I grit my teeth almost painfully, "If you think I didn't try literally everything; then you try your hand at pouring out your soul just to get him to listen. Then you get punched in the face and called insane when all you did was try to convince him you were on his side."

I think Piccolo almost smirked at me. I snarled.

"And what do I have to show for it? Nothing."

"Well," the Namek said softly, "Are you going to give up?"

I thought about that. I'd been ready to throw in the towel when I saw the hopelessness in Kakarot's gaze before, but now…. I wasn't so sure. It wasn't really in my nature to quit. When I was down, I got back up; when I was picked on, I took it; when things weren't going my way, I made them go my way.

"No," I said shortly.

Piccolo nodded absently, "I thought not, but what are you going to do now?

"Why me? Why does it have to be me?" I muttered. Kakarot had friends, lots of them. If anything, I was more of an enemy to him than a friend. So why was I the one that had to get through to him?

"He listens to you. He trusts you. At least, he used to. And you're Saiyan, like him, so you're the most likely to get through to him." The Namek replied simply as if he'd read my thoughts. I hadn't expected him to respond, never mind quite so elaborately, and I blinked and looked down at the ring, thinking hard.

"What do you think I should do?" I asked honestly, I wasn't used to asking for advice, but I'd tried just about everything else.

Piccolo smirked; or rather, the motion of a smirk. The amusement didn't extend past the upturned corner of his mouth.

"You mean what would I do? Or what do I think you should do?"

"Either, both, I don't know," I said quietly and not a little awkwardly.

"Well usually I'd tell you to hit him over the head and drag him, but I don't think that'd be the best bet right now, given the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" I stood a little straighter.

"You care about him," Piccolo said bluntly, "As do I. This situation requires a lot more thought than either you or I would have given back in the day."

I took a moment to appreciate that I didn't deny caring for Kakarot. In the next moment I was asking myself what had happened that had made my point of view change so drastically. What had happened that had made me see Kakarot as more than just a punching bag; but as a comrade, or even a friend?

I first met Kakarot when I came to Earth a long, long time ago. Back then he was just a young teenager with plans for the future and a rather strong arm. Despite being raised on Earth, his attitude was very Saiyan, I remembered. He was what back then? Fifteen, sixteen? And he was easily one of the strongest people on Earth, if not the strongest.

All I wanted at the time was to beat him quickly and be on my way, but he kept stopping me between attacks, asking me and asking me; asking me to teach him more, more, always more; to show him that move again or slow down so he could get a closer look. He was so inquisitive and intelligent that I took a grudging liking to him, though I never admitted it out loud.

As I learned more about him, so he learned more about himself. I believe he'd been dubbed the name "Goku" in his time on Earth, which I thought was ridiculous. A Saiyan should be called by the name they were born under. So I told him about his heritage and his real name; and to my slight surprise, he immediately took to it. I think he'd been under the constant impression that he was different, that he didn't belong, and to have someone to explain why and point him in the direction he was meant to follow – whether he chose to in the end or not - seemed to mean a lot to him.

I was there the first time he stopped one of his friends – the bald, short one – in the middle of a conversation, and asked him to call him Kakarot instead of Goku. I was a little startled, but I can't say I wasn't proud. Kakarot was about twenty years old then; it took him that long to decide who he really was. Frieza had just been defeated, so I was in high spirits at the time, for once in my life I had a choice to lead it how I wanted; and despite being outshone by the third-class yet again, I was somewhat relieved to know that Super Saiyan actually existed. It gave me a goal.

And then there was the whole separation thing that was confusing. Certain people called him Kakarot and certain people didn't, some simply because it was too baffling to talk to him in a conversation with people calling him two different names, some because they liked one better than the other or for some other reason, whatever. I don't think he told anyone he cared one way or the other, but I noticed that he got a satisfied expression on his face when he managed to get someone to switch from one name to the other. Of course, I had called him Kakarot from the beginning, but I never pointed that out or anything. Out loud.

There came a rather big shocker for both of us when a boy called Trunks showed up from the future with his mentor and friend Gohan. Trunks claimed to be my son, and Gohan – who only had one arm I might add – claimed to be Kakarot's; I found the whole thing extremely weird. It didn't seem to bother Kakarot as much, probably because he dealt with such strange things in his everyday life.

And then there was Cell. It took a lot to beat him, and it was one of the first times that Kakarot and I fought side by side for the same cause. And when Kakarot sacrificed himself to defeat the monster, I waited with the rest of his friends and family for him to return.

Then Buu came along, and I fought beside Kakarot again for the first time in seven years. He'd been surprised to discover that he had a second son, I remember. But yes, I recall there was a woman. She seemed kind of lost in her life, unsure which way she was going as if something had been turned over in her universe. I think her name was ChiChi. Anyway, Kakarot pitied her and apparently things got serious and the young Saiyan ended up siring a child. Of course, he already had Gohan, but he was from the future so I wasn't sure if he counted. I never saw the woman ChiChi again and I assumed Kakarot didn't either.

After Buu was defeated, there was a short time of peace. But as most things end, so did that time. I remembered it as if it was yesterday, and I could replay it in my mind it almost down to the second.

I was walking down the hallway at Capsule Corp – I'd been staying there as I didn't have anywhere else to go – when I got stopped by the woman Bulma. She looked spooked, like she'd seen something terrifying.

"What do you want, woman?" I'd snapped in the usual way, unused to being halted in such a manner.

"It's Goku," she said, she was one of the few people that still called him that; probably because she'd known him the longest.

"What about him?" I'd asked in a disinterested voice.

"He's gone. I've called all his friends, they have no idea where he is." She blurted in a rush.

I remained silent, but in my head a million questions were flitting about like moths.

"We have to find him. He could be in serious trouble," the woman continued anxiously.

I didn't protest, or even rebuke her use of the word "we", under the circumstances and just followed where she lead.

It took us two years to find him, and another year to devise a strategy and infiltrate the facility. Three years of toil leading up to one moment, and Kakarot refused to leave.

I sighed, returning to the present and shoving the lingering memories away for now.

Piccolo was looking at me out of the corner of his eye, waiting patiently for me to speak.

"I'm going to find him; wherever they're keeping him." I said determinedly, "I'm going to find him and set him free, even if I have to blow this entire building to pieces in the process."

TBC