Somewhere in West City - The Next Day

"Right so I just do this position and punch them there…" Launch muttered, drawing an 'X' on a punching bag with a marker. "And it should explode into a million pieces. Heh, this will be easy as cake." She snickered to herself, getting into position. "Let's see that Black haired bastard beat me now! Hee-ya!" She jutted out her fist, smashing into the punching bag with a confident smile…

Nothing happened…

"... Did I mess it up?" She wondered, looking back at her comic book. "Okay, I must have. Let's try this again. Hee-ya!"

Nothing happened again…

"What the fuck?" She spat, looking back at her book. "It was supposed to explode! I didn't train all night just for it to not work!"

"Launch? The HFIL you doing here?" A voice called out. The Blonde jumped a bit, groaning when she realized who was talking. "Slapping a bag ain't gonna help whatever dumb plan you got this time, Two-Brain."

"Piss off, Draca, I'm busy." She really didn't want to deal with this shark-toothed nimrod at the moment, she had far more important things to do. Sadly, the boy strut on in anyway. "Can't ya hear, dipstick? Shoo!"

The Fiery redhead couldn't take the hint. He sauntered right on over, picking at a small hole in his beat up black World Martial Arts shirt. Dirt caked his pale face, but that did little to dampen his shit eating shark toothed smirk. The boy's blue eyes shined with arrogance.

"Damn, and I thought we were such good friends." Draca laughed, sitting down on a barely standing chair. "So what's all this then, huh? Never took you one for uhh, whatever this is. Seriously, the HFIL you doing? Some kinda martial arts? Didn't take ya for a fan."

"I'm not, but it seems like something I should learn. You know how shitty these streets can get sometimes… all times." Launch muttered towards the end, scanning through the comic book again. 'Mozo the Many' was the title. She kinda skimmed through it but it was about some dumb monkey dude that could turn his hairs into more of him. He was some crime fighting superhero or some shit. She didn't have the willpower to bear reading most of the comic.

"That comic ain't gonna teach you nothin', Two-Brain." Draca deadpanned, grabbing the comic from her hands. "Mozo? That dumb Shonen manga? You know that's all make believe right? You ain't gonna learn how to fight from this crap. You need to actually learn martial arts if you wanna defend yourself… Wait, why the HFIL does Launch, the scariest girl this side of West City, need to learn martial arts?"

Launch paled for a moment. Shit, she really shouldn't have said anything. "None of your damn business, Shark-Tooth!" She yelled, snatching the comic… err manga back from Draca. She heard something that pissed her right off. He was snickering, the bastard was laughing at her. "You shithead!" In a moment a pistol was right to his forehead, fire burning in the blonde's eyes.

"Hehehe!" Draca was unfazed. He knew this girl's temper like the detention room at school. She didn't have the balls. "Who did you lose to?"

"N-no one, jackass! Y-you think someone can b-beat me!?" Launch was livid, but lying through her teeth obviously wasn't working. Draca was still laughing at her. "Stop it!"

Draca broke out into a hard laugh. "Miss Badass herself! The one and double Launch lost a fight!" He continued laughing, even as the barrel of the gun pressed harder into his forehead. "And they thought pigs couldn't fly!"

"You're the fucking worst, you know that?" A red faced Launch scowled. She lowered the gun and walked back to the punching bag, decking it hard. "Stop laughin', Numb-Nuts! He'd a kicked your ass even easier!"

Draca stopped for a moment, his face going pale and his eyes darkened in horror. It just sunk in for him. Someone beat Launch. Someone beat Launch! Oh God, oh HFIL no! "How easy did h-h-he win?" He choked. Someone like that could take over their turf with no hesitation.

"It was over in less than six seconds! A' had em' at gunpoint from behind too! He was so fucking fast, Draca!" Laughed spat, her pride in shambles. "I didn't hit him once, he bulldozed right through me!"

"Oh no, no no no!" Draca panicked, grabbing Launch by the shoulders. "You know what this means?! The dude can just waltz on in here and take our turf! I'm done for!"

Launch stared slack jawed. "Shark-Tooth, the HFIL you talking about? 'Our' 'Turf'? This ain't some fucking gang war, we're a group of kids."

"No nono, you don't get it. Other kids this side of town don't mess with me cause they are scared of YOU." To hammer the point in, he poked her while saying this. "If word gets out that you lost a fight, ain't no kid gonna be scared to ruff me up now. This is bad!"

"You really are a leech, you know that?" Launch pushed him away. "Fine, fine, whatever. What do we do now?"

"Uhhh…" Draca skimmed his brain, something Launch didn't believe he could actually do. "Alright uhh, martial arts…" That was the last topic. They needed to learn how to fight. How though? He had no clue where to go to train! The Monks were over in East City. Orange Star City was out of the question. None of the surrounding areas had much to offer. "Oh God we are screwed."

"Great." Launch huffed. She'd chastise him, but she was at a loss on what to do either. Nothing around here could really help them train. Gingertown and Parsleytown were useless, nothing ever happens there. Triceratops Jungle was littered with bandits and other shitheads. Hopefully they can find something before that boy comes back.

Wherever he was. Probably off beating up more hoodrats.


Capsule Corporation

"School? I don't think I've ever heard of it?" Yamcha muttered, scarfing down his third bowl of cereal. He knew eating so much would make living back out in the desert harder, but he didn't really care at the moment. Even this boxed cereal was amazing compared to the scraps he ate back home. "What's that?"

"Oh course you don't know." Bulma sighed, eating her own cereal. She wanted to pour sugar in it, but with her mom and dad watching Yamcha, and by proxy her, like a hawk, it would be an impossible task. "You probably got nothing but sand in your head anyways."

"Hey, don't you talk to Lord Yamcha that way, brat!" Puar squeaked. She started going off on Bulma about how amazing Yamcha was, half of the examples Yamcha knew she was making up on the spot. He rolled his eyes, a small smile on his face. Despite her most likely only embarrassing herself, Puar was always there for him, and he valued that above all else. She was like a little sister figure, always there to scream when needed.

Bulma stared bug-eyed at Puar, unsure if she should be taken aback or offended at the outburst. Probably a little bit of A and a little bit of B.

"You know I'd beat you over the head, but I need to get to school and the last thing I want is cat fur on my dress." Bulma huffed. She jumped out of her seat and waved to her parents. "Bye Mom, bye Dad! Love you!"

"Love you too, Sweety!" Panchy called, waving happily. Dr. Briefs gave a nod to his daughter. The remaining people eat in silence for a short while.

"So Yamcha, can I get your last name now?" Briefs asked politely. Maybe he could get something out of the boy, at least enough to find his parents. Yamcha stopped eating, glaring at the scientist.

"I don't know it." He scowled, before returning to his meal. Panchy's heart sank. Briefs kept his cool but his stomach tightened a bit.

"Where are you from? Maybe that could hel-" Yamcha cut him off with an annoyed grunt.

"I'm from the desert, don't know anyplace else." He said between spoonfuls of food.

"From the desert?" Panchy gasped. "That can't be right!" She stood from her chair and walked over to Yamcha, who grew a little red in her presence. "Where are you parents? I'm gonna give them a piece of my mind!"

"I don't know where they are." Yamcha's words hit the couple like a sack of bricks. "Never met them." The couple stayed silent, unsure how to process his words.

Yamcha was bear hugged from the side by Panchy. She held him close, rocking side to side slightly.

"You poor boy. I'm so sorry." Panchy spoke in a low, calming voice. "It must have been so hard for you out there."

Puar did her best to pull Yamcha away from the woman. "Please Mam', Lord Yamcha isn't made for hugs!"

Dr. Briefs watched on, his mind raced with different scenarios. He didn't like any of those answers, nor the implications of them. This child doesn't know his parents, where he was born, or his own last name. There was really only one answer to what happened to him.

Yamcha was ditched in the desert by his parents. They wanted him gone and left him in one of the harshest environments on Earth. Unless they had died out there when he was young, this was attempted murder.

The scientist stood up, drawing the attention of the other three. "Yamcha, if it's alright with you, can you come with me?" Yamcha looked confused and on edge. Briefs wasn't sure how much of that was from the question and how much was from his wife. "I'd like to talk to you some more in my lab. Puar, you are free to come as well." He locked eyes with Panchy, who seemed to understand. She let down the boy, who stammered forward, doing his best to catch his breath.

"Fine, but don't try anything funny." Yamcha sighed. Paur bounced onto his shoulder, giving her best to look intimidating.

"Wouldn't dream of it, my boy." Briefs said, leading the two to his lab. He gave his wife another look, to which she gave him a soft smile. That brought one to his face as well.

The lab was sterile and quiet, save for a low hum of a machine in the back. Yamcha and Puar looked around in awe of the random bits and bobs of cool tech. When he knew Briefs wasn't looking, the bandit nabbed a random capsule. Maybe he could get some money for it on the way out of town.

Dr. Briefs cleared a table in the middle of the room, placing a small blanket on top.

"If you could, I'd like for you to sit on the table." He asked. The duo gave him a strange look. "Right, I must inform you of my intent. I want to do a simple check up on you."

"Check up?" Yamcha asked. "The HFIL's that?"

What a tongue on this boy. His father would have washed his mouth out with soap for that. But this boy had no father, Briefs reminded himself. "A check up is an examination done to evaluate one's health." The duo blinked and Briefs held in a sigh. It was a miracle these two knew English in the first place. Best not to push it. "I want to see how healthy you are."

"Oh, why didn't you say that first?" Yamcha hopped up on the table, swinging his legs a bit.

"Alright, my boy. I just need you to remain still." Briefs wasn't a professional doctor, but he had enough knowledge in the field. He had to take a nursing class for one of his degrees. "First thing I'm going to do is look at your eyes. I need you to just keep them open. Blink if you need to."

Most of the exam went smoothly enough. His eyes and ears were rather sharp for someone his age. He expected as much given Yamcha's situation. His heartbeat had no issues. No trouble breathing either. There wasn't too much more he could check with his current tools. Weight would have to be checked another time but Briefs didn't need a professional to tell him Yamcha was underweight. Now all he needed was a blood sample. It wasn't technically part of the exam, but it would help a lot in the future.

"Thank you very much, Yamcha. The last thing I need is a blood sample." Dr. Briefs took a syringe out of an advanced medical kit he had stored in a closet. He had intended to throw it out, but kept it in case of an emergency. "This will pinch a little, just to warn you."

As he turned to Yamcha, he was caught off guard as the boy jumped at him. He was shoved to the ground, where the bandit held the syringe to his neck.

"What's your game, huh?" Yamcha spat. Puar was at his side, ready to help. Her glare wasn't the cute one she normally had, it was stone cold and angry.

"Trying to stab my Master is a cheap trick, Sir." Puar held out a paw. It slowly morphed into a raptor's claw, sharp enough to tear through bone. "But we're not afraid to play dirty either."

"No no! You misunderstand!" Briefs held his hands up. He couldn't believe how quickly their demeanor changed. Yamcha was rough around the edges already, but the cat did a complete one eighty! "This is not a blade or knife. This is a syringe. We use it to extract a small amount of blood."

"What do you need my blood for, Old Man?" Yamcha growled, bringing the needle closer.

"There are machines that can tell you more about your health from your blood. Your vitamin levels, iron and zinc levels." Briefs explained, inching away from the needle. The look on the boy's face said it all. He had no clue what half of that meant. "Potentially even who you're related to." It was a long shot at best, there was no chance Yamcha's DNA was registered. That wasn't too big of an issue, he could register it himself. But the likelihood of finding a match with his parents was also pretty low. DNA records for East and West city are shared, but everywhere else he'd need to check in person.

"Who I'm related to?" Yamcha muttered. He stood back, letting the doctor stand up. He refused to look at him. "How much do you need?"

"Just a few vials." Doctor Briefs said, catching his breath. That was certainly a scary experience.

Yamcha sat back down on the table, looking away. "Fine, just get it over with."

The room was silent as Briefs drew blood. Yamcha was clearly uncomfortable about the whole situation. But Briefs knew words wouldn't help at the moment. The boy had a lot on his mind and he needed time to sort it all out.

"And done. Thank you, Yamcha." Briefs said, moving the vials to a safe place. He had a friend in the medical field that could run the necessary tests. That would be a doozy to try and explain.

"I'm going outside." Yamcha said, jumping down from the table and walking to the door.

"Don't go too far, okay?" Briefs asked. He was worried the boy would run away again. Twice in two days doesn't look so good to other people.

"You're not my dad." The words rushed out of Yamcha's mouth before he even registered what he wanted to say. The awkward air settled around them as they both stood there for a moment. Without another word, Yamcha shuffled out the door. Puar gave a meek look to the doctor before following her master.

Briefs stood there for a moment, before nodding to himself. "That I'm not." He turned to the computer. He had an email to send.


Remains of Planet Vegeta

The mass grave of the Saiyans laid silent and cold to the rest of space. It was a reality shaking reminder to all of the galaxy that even those seen as untouchable can and will meet death all the same. The barbarians known as the Saiyans were vicious, unyielding hounds that if not for Lord Frieza's tight leash, could have ruled the galaxy all the same.

Now? They were nothing, gone to the wind in a freak meteorite impact. It would be lucky if the number of remaining Saiyans reached even the double digits. And so the Prince of the dead, Prince Vegeta, stared down at his dead throne with hatred from an empty room of a space station. The young prince stared for what felt like hours. His underlings stood a decent ways behind him, watching.

"He does this every year, Nappa." A young, spikey haired Saiyan child groaned, arms folded. "What's the point? Staring isn't going to bring them back."

"He needs to remind himself, I guess." The tall Saiyan, Nappa, muttered. The boy scoffed.

"Of what?" He snarled. "Of his dead dad, his dead mom? His dead planet? I don't think you need to visit their graves every year to understand they're dead."

"Watch your tone, Raditz." Nappa spit. "You have no authority to speak about Prince Vegeta that way."

"Prince? Prince of what? All I see are floating rocks." Raditz hissed, clenching his teeth. He stepped forward, ignoring Nappa's warnings to stay put. With annoyance, he grabbed the shoulder of his prince. "We're leaving, Vegeta."

Raditz internally regretted his action as soon as he saw the cold gaze of Vegeta. Raditz wasn't really known for his bravery, the other two letting him know how much of a spineless coward he was every day. He was in for it now.

"Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me." Vegeta warned, venom soaking every word. "Or else, Runt." Raditz froze for a moment. He should let go, grovel for forgiveness. The Prince wouldn't hesitate to kill him.

No… Not today. He wasn't some pack rat they would harass like he was just trash. Instead of letting go, he tightened his grip.

"We are leaving now." Raditz almost ordered, to his own shock. "Sitting here crying isn't going to do anyth-"

A knee found his gut, and he heaved. He fell to his knees, struggling to catch his breath. A fist gripped his hair, pulling him up to meet Vegeta face to face.

"Don't ever tell me what to do, low class trash." Vegeta spit. "Do I make myself clear?"

He was in for it now, but the HFIL with it, if he dies, he'll get to see his mom, dad, and brother again.

"Go to HFIL, Vegeta." Raditz spat in his face. "Low class trash? You think that means anything to me now?" He punched Vegeta in the stomach… The Prince didn't budge. "You're nothing anymore."

"I am the Prince of all Saiyans, worm!" Vegeta yelled, slapping Raditz across the face. The boy hit the floor, spitting out a tooth. "If you value your life, you will know your place."

"My place?" Raditz laughed. He was in too deep anyways, might as well see how far he can go. "Where do you think we are in the Galaxy's hierarchy? We are nothing. Just a lap dog for Frieza. Your royalty means nothing anymore, Prince. Look out there, what do you see?" Vegeta looked to the mass of space debris, quiet, save for his clenched jaw straining from his anger. "A mass grave, that's what! Stop acting so high and mighty, you pompous asshole!"

"How dare yo-" Vegeta started, but Raditz didn't give him the time.

"All that's there is destruction. We lost everything. My dad, my mom, my brother! What do you have anymore outside of us? Nothing! You are the Prince of Nothing!" The low class warrior spat again, blood landing on Vegeta's cheek.

"Raditz, that's enough!" Nappa shouted, stomping up to the boy. "How dare you speak to our prince like that!"

"He knows I'm right!" Raditz snapped at him. They both turned to Vegeta who was looking out to the debris again.

"... Both of you get back to your pods, we're leaving in a few minutes." Vegeta less commanded and more informed the duo. "Leave me be for now."

"Uh, yes Prince Vegeta!" Nappa shot up in attention. He grabbed Raditz and left for the pods. Vegeta stared out the glass of the station. Slowly, he closed his eyes, turning and walking out.


Before my closing notes, I'm gonna explain a few things first.
Draca is a revision of Susano from the last version of Desert Boy. His name felt outta place so I gave him the classic Dragon Ball naming method. His name comes from Dragon Fruit, which I feel matches his personality.

Second, the Saiyans got some screen time :D I wanted to include them in this as well. Since this story is about one person being in the right place to change a life, Vegeta was a prime candidate to be included. He'll show up every now and then, but this story is still about Yamcha and Launch.

Lastly, I want to give Dr Briefs a name. I'll gladly take some suggestions about it too.

Now that that's out of the way:

Woops I did not mean to be gone for so long. Complete accident. Life does that to ya, you know?

Can say I'll be consistent, but I'm still gonna try to.

Not much else to say except I might also look into reviving some older works of mine, namely my Blazblue fic. But that is a BIG maybe.

That's all for today. Have a good one and stay golden.