Language Barrier

Vegeta pulled off his shirt and jeans and was about to get into bed when someone knocked on the door to his room. With a low growl, he walked over to the door and cracked it open to see who would be foolish enough to bother him. He saw the blue-haired girl smiling at him and reluctantly opened the door a little wider as an unspoken invitation for her to come in and say whatever she wanted to say so she would leave him alone.

Bulma took a step into the room before noticing the boy was only wearing boxers. She blushed a little and averted her eyes, suddenly finding the ceiling to be terribly interesting. "I'm going to bed now, Vegeta. I just wanted to tell you goodnight and if you need anything at all you can ask me for it. My room is right next to yours on the left."

He looked at her as if she had grown a second head. He couldn't imagine ever needing anything that she could provide. But again, she misunderstood his expression and groaned. "I'm really sorry, Vegeta. I keep talking to you in English but I don't know what other language to use and I don't know how much you can understand and it's really frustrating trying to talk to you."

He rolled his eyes. He still hadn't decided how much of her language he wanted her to know he could understand and speak. Sometimes it was better to play dumb. It saved him from having to explain himself at the very least. He shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest.

She gave him a lopsided smile and backed toward the door. Her eyes were drawn to the muscles evident on his arms and chest. He was pretty skinny, but he wasn't lanky like a lot of young boys. Actually, considering his age, he looked pretty well-built. She wondered, perhaps for the first time, just how old her guest was. Judging by his height she would say not much older than her, by his eyes he could be an old man, and by his muscular frame a teenager. The pieces of her guest didn't seem to fit together to indicate an obvious age.

"How old are you?" she blurted out.

He frowned and quirked an eyebrow. 'Why does she want to know how old I am?' he wondered. 'Apparently this is another culture where age holds some significance. Idiots. Don't they know power is all that matters?'

Bulma sighed, thinking he hadn't understood her again. She stepped out the door and gave him a soft goodnight before closing the door and padding down the hall to her own room. He shook his head after her departure and went back over to the large bed and pulled the covers back. He sat on the edge of the bed and was about to lie down when there was another knock on the door.

With a more audible growl than before, he strode over to the door, fully expecting to find the blue-haired brat on the other side. He scowled and threw the door open, but instead of finding the girl, the man with the mustache was standing there and looking quite surprised by the ferocity with which he opened the door. Some of his anger ebbed away, but if he was going to be constantly interrupted when he was trying to get some sleep, he was going to have some serious problems staying with the Briefs.

"Sorry to disturb you, my boy," Dr. Brief said as he wandered into the guestroom. "I'm sure my daughter has already been in to tell you goodnight." He chuckled lightly when he saw the boy frown and glance in the direction of her bedroom. "Anyway, she's told me you don't speak our language, but I think you probably speak more than you let on. Or at least you understand it pretty well."

Vegeta's eyes widened a little. Still, he remained silent as he walked over to the bed and leaned against it with his arms crossed over his chest. "Pretty well?" he asked.

Dr. Brief stuffed his hands in the pockets of his rumpled lab coat and leaned against the bed next to the small boy. "Enough to know what I'm saying. You don't look like someone who doesn't know the language when you listen. I can see you understand it. You never look confused by what we say. I don't know if you're able to produce the language so well, but I know you know what we're saying."

"So?"

"Personally, I don't have a problem with it. If you don't want to talk, that's fine. What I'm worried about, for your sake, is how frustrated Bulma is going to get."

Vegeta shrugged one shoulder. He didn't care about the girl. Let her be upset when he didn't respond to her endless babbling, it didn't matter to him. "Why tell me this?"

Dr. Brief mirrored the boy and shrugged one shoulder. "Just thought I'd warn you that she's going to try to teach you the language." His mustache twitched with amusement when he heard the boy grumbling something under his breath in a language he'd never heard before. "What language is that?"

The boy's dark eyes looked up at him. There was suspicion evident in them. He looked away as he answered, "Saiya-go. It's a dead language."

"Saiya-go, hm? I've never heard of it. But then, I've never heard what you just spoke, so I'll take your word for it. Well, I'd best be off to bed. Goodnight, my boy. I'll see you in the morning." The amiable man slapped him on the back again and shuffled out of the room.

'Finally, I can get some sleep,' he thought as he stretched out on the bed and pulled the covers over himself.

Seven hours after he finally got to sleep, Vegeta woke up. He leaped out of bed in a low crouch and surveyed his surroundings for enemies. He didn't recognize where he was for a moment before he remembered he was in the room given to him by the strange blonde woman at Capsule Corporation. He relaxed and stood up straight, shaking the last of his disorientation from his head. He yawned and walked to the bathroom to rid himself of the tension in his bladder and wash his face before finding a suitable place to train.

He walked back into the bedroom and, seeing his armor hadn't been returned to him yet, went to the bureau of drawers and rifled through some of the clothes in them. None of them felt like they were made of material that could withstand a ki blast or absorb the impact of a strong blow, but he didn't expect to find such things on a planet of plebeians. He sighed and pulled out a pair of dark blue shorts and a white tank sleeveless shirt. They would have to do for now.

Fully dressed, Vegeta crept out of his room and went downstairs to explore the compound a little. He never liked being anywhere for long without knowing his surroundings by heart. The compound was silent, indicating there was no one else awake. It was still very early in the morning, long before dawn. Likely the humans would be asleep for at least another hour. He was grateful for their weakness making them need more sleep than him. That made it easier for him to check the place out and see what it had to offer without needing a 'tour' from one of the bumbling fools.

He found that the compound was even larger than it looked from the outside. The halls seemed to wind for miles and before long he was so turned around he didn't know where he was anymore. When he walked past the same set of double doors for the third time, he stopped and leaned against the wall, his tail flicking between his legs. He was irritated with himself for getting lost and embarrassed that he didn't know how to get back to a familiar room.

'Great. Now what am I supposed to do?' Vegeta shrugged and pushed away from the wall. He was supposed to be exploring, right? He stepped over to the large double doors and pushed them open to see what lay behind. What he found confused him.

He cautiously padded into the room and sniffed the air. He could smell animals even though he couldn't see them. He had no idea why there was a forest indoors. He'd never seen anything like it before. Along with animals he smelled flowers, some fruit, and moss. The air was different, too, sort of humid and hot. He heard water running and birds in the trees. Had he not known any better, he would have thought he was outside, somewhere far from civilization.

'Strange,' he thought, 'Why put a forest inside?' He looked up and saw that the high ceiling was made of glass so the room was only lit by natural light. He didn't know how large the place was because his view of the far wall was blocked by the trees, but he figured it must be quite spacious.

Well, he had been searching for a large space, and he found one. His tail whipped behind him a few times before coiling around his waist. It was time to train – he'd already wasted half an hour wandering through the compound. He sank into a fighting stance and started his kata.

At 6:15AM Dr. Brief woke up and got out of bed. After showering and dressing he went downstairs to the indoor garden where he liked to come up with his ideas for new inventions. Over the years it had become a sort of daily ritual for him. It was relaxing to ride his bicycle around and feed the stray animals he and his wife rescued and kept inside.

When he reached the doors, he was startled by the sound of an explosion coming from inside and the ground started shaking. Bracing himself against the wall, he waited for the shaking to stop.

'Oh shit. That's not good,' Vegeta thought as he landed on the ground and looked at the large hold in the wall. His ki ball had gotten out of control and hit the wall instead of harmlessly colliding with another ki blast, which hit him in his second of distraction. He rubbed his burnt shoulder and winced in pain. His head whipped around when he heard the doors open and momentarily panicked.

Dr. Brief shuffled into the garden and calmly looked around, remaining composed even when he saw the large, smoldering hole in the wall. His mustache twitched as he walked closer to assess the damage.

Vegeta crouched down and noiselessly slinked deeper into the forest. He didn't want this little incident to get him kicked out. He climbed into one of the taller trees and crept out onto a branch where he could get a better view of the lavender-haired man.

"Well, that's odd," Dr. Brief muttered. "What would have caused this?" He turned around and looked through the trees but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Shrugging, he walked over to where he kept his bicycle and mounted it, then proceeded to ride around in a figure eight.

The boy heard him absent-mindedly humming to himself and shook his head. The old man was maybe as insane as the females. He found a gaping hole in his home and thought nothing of it. Still, that didn't mean he was going to confess to causing it. He sat on the branch and waited for Dr. Brief to finish his strange ritual and leave so he could get out unnoticed. But the minutes dragged on and soon an hour had passed and it didn't appear as though he was any closer to finishing. Vegeta was growing impatient. Sitting still for so long was not enjoyable for him.

He growled and his tail started flicking agitatedly. He hadn't been able to finish his morning training and now he didn't know if he'd ever get the chance. With an exasperated sigh he crawled back to the trunk of the tree and leaned against it. He closed his eyes and calmed his mind to meditate.

Another half hour passed before Dr. Brief got off his bike and wandered into the forest to visit his pets. Had he turned his attention to the branches above, he might have seen Vegeta, but he was focused on petting the various animals that gathered around him seeking attention. He was stroking the tiger when the doors opened again.

"Honey, breakfast is ready!" Mrs. Brief's shrill voice called through the trees.

The sudden noise jolted Vegeta out of his meditative state. He jumped and nearly fell out of the tree, saved only by his tail catching him by wrapping around the branch. Hanging upside down, he could see the doctor under him and quickly dropped down to the next branch and tried to hide himself. Much to his relief, he drew no attention as Dr. Brief put his hands in his pockets and walked back out of the forest and left the room.

Vegeta climbed down to the ground and ran to the doors. He didn't know what breakfast was, but he was going to find out. He cracked the door open and peeked out. No one was around. He stepped out into the hall and quietly shut the door behind him. It was only then that he noticed the scent of food thick in the air. His stomach immediately growled. 'That must be breakfast,' he concluded. He didn't remember how to get back to the kitchen, so he let his nose guide him and he found himself in the kitchen a few minutes later. Dr. Brief was already in there sitting at the table reading a newspaper. There was a pile of waffles and a skillet full of scrambled eggs on the table. Not much for the boy's appetite.

Vegeta walked over to the table and sat down in the same chair he sat in the night before. He didn't want to wait to eat, but still he thought it might be considered rude to eat before the others. He figured he was still walking on thin ice; after all, he couldn't understand genuine compassion so he had no idea that the Briefs would never make him leave, especially over something so trivial.

He turned when he heard the door open and Bulma – looking barely awake – trudged in followed by her mother. "I couldn't find Vegeta to tell him breakfast is ready," Mrs. Brief was telling her daughter.

Dr. Brief lowered his newspaper and noticed for the first time the missing guest was already present. He chuckled and raised his paper again. "He's right here, dear."

"Oh! You're already up!" Mrs. Brief went over to her young guest and gave him a good morning kiss on the forehead, which he disgustedly rubbed off. "Well, then, let's eat!"

Mrs. Brief was the last to sit down. She started serving food onto the others' plates before helping herself. The Briefs didn't seem quite as surprised this time when Vegeta wolfed down his food in a fraction of the time it took them to eat.

When breakfast was finished, Vegeta stood up to leave. He had more exploring to do if he hoped to find a way to get what he needed. Knowing the layout of the compound was necessary for any sort of plan to work. He was stopped when a small hand grabbed his arm. He tried to shake it off, but it held fast.

"Wait, Vegeta," Bulma said. "Do you want me to show you around?"

He stared at her. She was about the last person he wanted to spend more than five minutes with. Finally, he yanked his arm free and stalked out of the kitchen. He didn't have time for her silly games anyway. He was on a mission and no one was going to delay him. Especially not some idiot brat who wouldn't stop trying to talk to him and kept touching him. If there were two things he hated, they were talking and being touched. Hence, she really grated on his nerves.

Bulma watched him leave and stamped her foot. "Why does he have to be like that? He knows I can't speak whatever language he speaks, but he doesn't even try to figure out what I'm saying!"

Dr. Brief chuckled and shook his head. He saw this tantrum coming a mile away. He turned the page of his newspaper and continued reading while his wife cleared the dishes off the table and carried them to the sink. "Bulma, dear, go on and get ready for school. You don't want to be late again," she said.

The blue-haired girl grumbled as she left the kitchen and went back upstairs to her bedroom. School was the last thing on her mind. At least it was Friday. The last day before the weekend. She went into her bathroom and took a quick shower and dried herself with a towel. She wrapped it around herself and went back into her room to find suitable clothes. She threw on a pink t-shirt and a pair of jeans, grabbed her backpack, and walked out of her room and straight into a very sturdy body.

'I really need to watch where I'm going.' She looked up and saw that it was Vegeta who she had run into. Again. "Sorry about that. I don't look where I'm going when I'm in a hurry." She skirted around him and went downstairs when she got no verbal response. She was really starting to hate the way he never said anything. It made her nervous.

He snorted when she was out of hearing range and went back into his guestroom. He knew he couldn't continue playing dumb forever, especially if the girl really did try teaching him her language. Anyway, it would be difficult to get the information he needed if he was still pretending not to be able to understand or speak their language. Apparently the old man already knew he understood more than he let on, so maybe he could limit himself to communicating with him intelligibly.

Vegeta went downstairs a while later to find the old man. He heard the girl running around frantically, for what reason he couldn't fathom. The blonde woman was in the kitchen singing horribly off-key in her screeching voice, but there was the sound of pots and pans clattering so he figured he could get used to it. Her cooking definitely made up for all her other defects. Even though his ears felt like they were going to bleed.

It didn't take long to find the old man. He was pacing around a room that appeared to serve no purpose. There was a bunch of furniture to sit in and a strange black box sitting in the middle of a big cabinet-like thing. Did people just go in there to sit? Pitiful. He walked into the room and was nearly trampled by the man who was thoughtfully rubbing his chin and muttering to himself as he mentally worked through the physics that prevented his latest model of hovercars from working properly.

Vegeta growled when he was walked into for the second time that morning. He was starting to wonder if humans' eyes actually functioned or if they were there for show. The tip of his tail twitched and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, Vegeta," Dr. Brief said, "I didn't see you there. Was there something you wanted?"

The boy rolled his eyes before answering, "Who is in charge of this corporation?"

Dr. Briefs blinked a few times, baffled. "Why, that would be me, my boy."

This time it was Vegeta who was baffled. He groaned and slumped his shoulders forward. He actually thought he would find a technological genius, but all he found was a bunch of nutcases who couldn't see someone standing right in front of them. They were idiots! So much for his plan to find help repairing his space pod. He wasn't entirely willing to give up his hope yet, though.

"You know mechanics?"

"That's my specialty," Dr. Briefs boasted. "Though I have been having trouble with the new line of hovercars…"

Vegeta's eyebrow quirked when the man's voice trailed off into inaudible mumbling. He sighed and considered leaving. He didn't have time for this nonsense. He grumbled to himself and sighed again.

"Is something the matter?" Dr. Briefs asked after having noticed the boy's glum look.

He didn't answer for a minute, too busy considering whether it would be worth the trouble. Finally, he shrugged and tried to explain his predicament. "I need tools and materials to repair my…" He didn't know what to call his space pod in the human's language. "… dhastrot and I wanted help and thought someone here could assist me."

"Your what? I've never heard of a dhastrot," Dr. Briefs said, mutilating the pronunciation of the foreign word.

Vegeta ran his hand through his hair as he tried to keep his frustration in check. It was hard enough speaking their dumb language well enough for them to understand through his accent. Now he didn't have a word for what he was describing and doubted there was any good translation. "Never mind what it is. I need tools to fix it."

Dr. Brief stroked his mustache. "I suppose I could lend you some. But what kind of tools?"

Vegeta didn't notice he was grinding his teeth until he heard it. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. "What do you have?"

"Oh, just about anything you'd ever need for a mechanical repair," Dr. Brief said as he gestured for the boy to follow him toward his laboratory.

In the lab, Vegeta quickly found the tools he would need to fix his broken space pod. He still didn't have all the materials he needed, but he would get them soon enough. New wiring would be required as well as plates made out of a metal tough enough to withstand speeds faster than light, the intense heat caused by friction as it falls through a planet's atmosphere, and the impact of hitting the ground. It wouldn't hurt to get more oxygen, too, to be on the safe side.

Dr. Brief watched in fascination as the boy searched through his tools – many of which even he had forgotten the purpose of – and pulled out the ones he would need. The boy definitely wasn't uneducated. Even when he spoke he had the air of being very cultured. He didn't say much, but what he said was clear, concise, and eloquent, considering his age.

Satisfied that he had all he would need, Vegeta picked up the assortment of tools and got ready to carry them out.

"Hold on, why don't you put those in a capsule so you don't have to carry them like that?" Dr. Brief asked.

Vegeta stopped in his tracks and looked up at the scientist with a frown. He figured this 'capsule' business had something to do with the corporation's name, but he still didn't know what exactly a capsule was. "A capsule?"

"Like this," Dr. Brief said, then took a tiny object out of his lab coat pocket and handed it to Vegeta. "Push the plunger down and throw it on the ground."

Vegeta did as he was told and jumped back when it exploded in a puff of smoke. It was like the things he saw the humans using when they were leaving the compound the day before. When the smoke cleared a few seconds later he saw a small carrying case of sorts where the capsule had been moments before. He poked it with his toe and leaped back when it fell over. His tail bristled when he heard the old man laughing.

"Jumpy, aren't you?" he asked. He bent over and opened the carrying case. "Put your tools in here."

Slowly, Vegeta stepped closer and set his tools inside. Dr. Brief shut it and pointed out a button on the side that he hadn't noticed before. "When you push this, it'll capsulate and then you've got all your things in one tiny device you can put in your pocket. Sure beats lugging around larger cases, wouldn't you say?" He pushed the button and where the case had been there was once again a small capsule lying on the floor. Vegeta was dumbfounded.

"You created these?" he asked, picking up the capsule and turning it over in his hand.

"That's right. It took me years but I finally figured out how to do it. But the how is a secret," he added with a wink.

'Impressive,' Vegeta admitted, if only to himself. 'Maybe he's not as crazy as I thought.' He looked back at the smiling man and reconsidered. 'No, he's crazy, but maybe you have to be crazy to think of something like this.'

He nodded and put the capsule in his pocket. "I need to get started. Will I be able to get back in?"

"Back in?"

"My…dhastrot. It's not here. I have to go to it."

"Oh! You mean back into the compound. Yes, you'll need an ID to get in. Come over here, let me make you one." The absent-minded man led the boy over to a desk that had a computer. He sat down and opened a program that linked him with the security system of the compound and in a few short minutes he had taken a picture of the newest resident of Capsule Corp and had him all set up with his own ID card.

As soon as he learned how to get back into the compound, Vegeta left to go back to his space pod and figure out what to do with it. He had the tools, but he was lacking the materials. He would need to take a careful look at the damage and see how much of what he would need. His hopes were raised again. If that fool Dr. Brief could create something as ingenious as the capsules then he could surely help him repair the pod if he found he couldn't do it by himself.

Bulma banged her head against her desk as she sat through yet another tortuous session of detention. She was more eager than usual to get back home so she could see Vegeta again. He was a bit on the abrasive side, but for some reason that made her more interested in him. He was a puzzle, an enigma that she was determined to figure out. And how better to figure the puzzle out than to break down the language barrier? She was going to teach him English if it killed her.

The only problem was, she had no idea how to go about teaching English to him. She didn't know how much he already knew and she couldn't remember learning it herself so she didn't have experience to go off of in her 'lesson planning.' Would he pick up the language faster if he saw it written down? Or would it be better to teach him to read and write after he could speak and understand it fairly well? Maybe it would be easier to just have him teach her his language. She was a genius, after all. How hard could learning his language, whatever it is, be?

Realistically, very hard. Especially if she couldn't figure out how to tell him that's what she wanted.

Bulma sat back in her seat and frowned at the open notebook in front of her. She'd been trying to plan out a way to get past the language barrier, but she really didn't know how. Ideas sounded good in her head, but in practice they weren't very practical. 'Maybe if I knew a little more about linguistics…I'll look some stuff up when I get home.'

Nearly an hour later Bulma raced home, bent on the mission of going to the library and finding any books about language she could get her hands on. Maybe she'd even be able to figure out what language Vegeta spoke so she could learn some of the basics and have that to her advantage when trying to communicate with him. She stopped at the front gate, swiped her ID card, and went into the compound as the gate opened. There was no time to waste; curiosity was gnawing at her mind and she needed to know more about her surly houseguest.

She ran into the compound, throwing her backpack and shoes off next to the front door, and continued through the winding halls until she came to a stop in front of a set of large wood doors. She pushed them open, flipped the light switch, and looked around at the library. Her plan, again, was great in her head, but impractical in reality. She had no idea where to look for books about linguistics. And it wasn't as if they had a card catalogue or anything. She sighed and started her search for any literature that might be helpful to her cause.

While she was in the library, Vegeta returned from his trip to inspect his space pod. He used his ID to get back into the compound and headed for the kitchen. He hadn't had anything to eat since breakfast, and since that hadn't actually been enough to fill him up, he was very hungry. He didn't know if the blonde woman would give him any more food before dinner, but he was more than willing to steal something if he had to. The pangs of hunger made him irritable.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Brief was busy preparing dinner. She was basting the turkey she had in the oven when Vegeta walked in. "Hello, Vegeta. I heard you went out today. Are you hungry? You missed lunch."

The boy, who had been on his way to the refrigerator where he saw food come from the night before, turned and looked up at her. 'How does she see me if she never opens her eyes?' he wondered. 'That backs up my theory that human eyes don't actually do anything.' He realized she asked him a question, but she spouted it off so fast it was hard for him to keep up. His eyebrows knit together as he mentally rehearsed what she said over in his mind.

"Here," Mrs. Brief interrupted his thoughts, "I'll give you a snack before dinner. Wouldn't want to ruin your appetite!" She crossed the room to dig something out of the refrigerator for her young guest. She pulled out a bottle of water, an apple, and a small block of cheese. "Here you go, honey."

Vegeta frowned at the small amount of food but accepted it nonetheless. He wouldn't turn it down even if it were only a crumb. He took his food and sat at the kitchen table and ate his snack with gusto. He decided he liked the sweet fruit and the salty yellow substance, whatever it was. Maybe there would be more where that came from. He gulped down the bottle of water and hopped out of his chair and sneaked back to the refrigerator.

"Now, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief admonished, "You'll have to wait until dinner." She grabbed him by the shoulders and shooed him out of the kitchen, ignoring his angry protests. He could have blasted her into another dimension, but he was looking forward to dinner, so he resisted the urge to settle his disagreement with violence. With a huff, he turned away when the kitchen door shut behind him.

He scowled and stalked off to go to his guestroom. He was almost there when he heard someone rapidly approaching him from behind. He growled and whirled around, coming face to face with the girl. 'Now what does she want?'

"Vegeta, I've been looking all over for you!" she exclaimed breathlessly. "Come with me, I want to teach you English so we can actually talk."

So, the old man hadn't been exaggerating. She really was a persistent little whelp. He didn't want to see what form of lessons she had planned, but he decided to give in anyway. If nothing else he could get some amusement out of it at her expense. It would pass the time until dinner. Besides, in all honesty it wouldn't hurt to have a firmer grasp on the language so he could communicate more effectively when he actually needed to. Not that he planned on sticking around long enough to need an extensive vocabulary. He followed her into her room and sat with her at her desk as she opened a notebook and started writing the symbols he'd come to recognize as the alphabet. He sighed. This was going to take a while.

A/N: So, yeah, they speak English in my fic because, frankly, I don't know Japanese and I'm not going to pretend this is Japanese when it's not. And I'm definitely not going to insert random Japanese words just to make it seem more "authentic" or whatever. I finally finished writing another chapter. It's pretty long, and I've had little time to work on it lately, so it took me over a week. Usually I can write a chapter in an hour or two...sigh. Oh well. Review!