Vegeta did not enjoy reading books. He had grown so accustomed to reading texts from a screen or projection that words printed on physical pages distracted him, and he found he could not absorb information as effectively. Before he had read fifty pages of An Introduction to Paleoanthropology, he had decided that he would request a digital copy of the book from Bulma. She had a habit of working late into the night, and Vegeta knew he could find her in the laboratory after he had taken his nightly shower. After throwing a hooded sweatshirt over his bare chest, he leaped out of his bedroom window and lighted on Capsule Corp.'s lawn. The sun's last light had just disappeared, and all stood silent. Nearby, however, Vegeta sensed Yamcha's energy approaching. Noting that the man had not cared to conceal his energy, Vegeta assumed that Yamcha had no intention of ambushing him. He slowed his pace, waiting for the other man to confront him.

"Vegeta!" Yamcha called out.

The Saiyan kept walking toward the lab, pretending not to acknowledge Yamcha.

"Hey, man, listen." He jumped in front of the Saiyan, blocking his path.

"What could you possibly have to talk about that would interest me, boy?"

"Don't play dumb with me."

Vegeta raised an eyebrow. Not wanting to betray his ignorance or confusion, he smirked, playing along with whatever assumption Yamcha seemed to have.

"All right, I guess I'll just say it then. Stay away from Bulma. We got back together. I don't want any monkey business from you."

Vegeta folded his arms over his chest and snorted mockingly. "Such bold words! Are you sure you can get away with them?" He didn't know what Yamcha prattled on about, but he never walked away from a chance to put someone weaker in his proper place. Vegeta could afford the annoyance if it meant gathering more information about his environment and the actions of those around him; the more he knew, the more he could control.

"I'm not looking for a fight this time. I'm just telling you that Bulma is my girl, and you need to leave her alone."

"Of course you refuse to fight me. I wonder why that is." He sighed and began walking once more. "I will do as I please and nothing less. As for that woman—she has vexed and pestered me endlessly for months. It seems that you have failed in your endeavors to contain her—a pathetic example of masculinity indeed. I confess that I am not surprised."

"I get it, Vegeta. You're just being an ass because you can. I'm not going to fall for it and do something stupid. But I wasn't going to just sit back, say nothing, and let you have your way. I wanted you to know that what you're doing is not okay—even if I can't make you do anything differently."

Vegeta concluded that Yamcha, apparently, believed that he had some cunning design to seduce Bulma. He thought it an odd belief, for he could not think of any evidence Yamcha could possibly have to support it. If Yamcha had stealthily observed him, he would have almost certainly found him out. This encounter, in fact, was the first he had seen of the man since Frieza's arrival. Ultimately, Vegeta assumed that only an irrationality—born of jealously, most likely—could explain Yamcha's present behavior. Consequently, the Saiyan swiftly chose to dismiss Yamcha's posturing as a triviality that did not concern him in the slightest. Without responding, Vegeta quickened his stride.

"I didn't expect anything else from you, asshole," Yamcha spat bitterly as he let the Saiyan go.

Vegeta found the entrance to the laboratory unlocked. Bulma sat in front of her laptop, papers and blueprints scattered all around her. With such disorderly space and habits, the Saiyan wondered how the woman could function at all. "Woman," he said, "I demand a digital rendering of the anthropology text."

Bulma jumped visibly, sending a few scraps of notes to the floor. As she bent over in her chair to pick them up, she said, "Shit, Vegeta, I didn't hear you come in."

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, but nobody's published a digital copy of that book yet. I'd buy it if there was one." After examining the sheets that had fallen, Bulma typed something into a document. She turned to Vegeta with something like an exhausted expression on her face. "You didn't by any chance happen to run into Yamcha today, did you?"

Vegeta shrugged, then smirked.

"I'm going to assume that means yes. I hope you didn't kill him. Don't mind him. He doesn't know anything about you, and he's making assumptions. He's just jealous for some stupid reason."

"Render the text into a digital format. I do not like books."

"I love the guy, but he doesn't get it sometimes."

"When will you have it done?"

"Vegeta! Stop with the book! I'm not going to do it. You have it, so you can read it. I'm not going to postpone my research just to make life more convenient for you. Honestly, I'm surprised you decided to read that book at all. I gave it to you just to be nice. You do realize that everyone hates you, right? I'm the only one who ever tries to talk to you, and you treat me like shit anyway! I've done nothing but reach out to you, and you do nothing but order me around and insult me. You act like a spoiled five-year-old!"

Consternation folded Vegeta's brow. He could only imagine what had provoked the woman's sudden emotional outburst. Surely, it could have nothing to do with him or his actions, he thought, for he had done nothing uncustomary or out of line with his usual character. After his patience-testing encounter with Yamcha, Bulma's snapping seemed nothing short of amusing to him. Humans and their little dramas were utterly ridiculous.

Bulma continued. "And you know what? Now Yamcha's mad at me for talking to you. I didn't do anything wrong! I thought I was doing the right thing, but no—you're still a prick, and Yamcha thinks I'm the worst person ever. Being me is such a thankless job!" She struck her thigh with her fist. "Stop looking at me like I just sprouted green antennae! It's not like you don't have feelings, Mr. Anxiety Issues! You're more fucked up than any of us, so just shut up! You're lucky anyone gives a damn about you. You're a worthless creep who's only here because of —a mistake!"

Like electricity, wrath zipped through Vegeta's veins.

Bulma abruptly fell silent as if mortified by her own words. "Oh my God, I'm sorry, Vegeta. I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry! Please don't leave. I just had a bad day. Yamcha has a way of getting under my skin. I'm really, really, really sorry! I'll see what I can do about the book, I promise."

Too enraged to reply or even to move, Vegeta merely seethed stoically. "Fuck you," he hissed, finally.

Bulma had begun to sob. "And now I've messed everything up..."

The Saiyan spun around, his right hand glowing with a livid blue aura, and he vaporized the laboratory entrance with a blast of energy, promptly storming out of the building.

"No, wait!" Bulma dashed after him. Before Vegeta could leap into the air, she threw her arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. "I'm sorry! You're not a worthless mistake—you're my friend. I didn't know what I was saying. Please forgive me!"

Muttering something that sounded like "foolish emotion," the Saiyan gathered energy and shot off into the sky, causing Bulma to lose hold of him and fall backwards onto the ground.