"Needs time? He needs time?"
Zarbon stood near the table, fingers rubbing his chin and eyes glaring down. Willow thanked a receptionist for bringing them sleeping bags and pillows, locked the door, and noticed her partner's pondering stance. She sighed loud, rolling her black eyes. "What's bothering you? He'd decided. Tomorrow morning, he'll have an answer. Give him time."
"Time? That barbarian doesn't need time!"
The word, 'Barbarian' shook the empty room. Willow doesn't appreciate Zarbon's self-entitlement, even after he quit the Frieza Force to follow Ici's morals. He still had those malicious traits from when he eradicated planets. The reminder just dove deep into Willow's past. Her mother starting an assassination service, Charlotte agreeing to kill whoever was on her list, and Willow refusing.
"Quit it, man! He's not the guy you remembered."
"How are you so sure? Maybe he's pretending!"
"Shh, quiet down. We're visitors."
Zarbon scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Who cares if we're visitors? I'm saying he's not joining our army."
"Okay, if he disagrees, he must have an explanation."
"Yes, to destroy this planet of its inhabitants."
At least Ici's morals had rubbed onto Zarbon. Mostly was pushing it, Willow thought. "Tell me then, Zarbon. Why are these humans still alive? A year and no one's dead."
Sputters spilled from Zarbon's mouth. "Well, I—"
"You don't, man. Just zip it and wait until tomorrow."
Zarbon knew Willow trusted Ici, even though she had second thoughts. He, too, believed Ici's mercifulness was troublesome. Most of the time, her ideas worked. Since her father—by shear luck—gave her an army, Ici helped the universe thrive. Instead of conquering planets and their species, she assisted defenses for them. He appreciated Ici's selfless nature and willingness to help kingdoms, societies, and poverty-ridden colonies, but letting murderers live?
Not to mention Dr. Gooseberri's involvement confused him. He shook his head, then watched Willow get into her sleeping bag. The corner of his eye caught the second sleeping bag near hers. Blush colored his cheeks. 'Should I ask Willow to move my bag away? Uh, no, that would be disrespectful.'
Heart thumping, Zarbon walked to his bag, wiggled inside it, and stared at the ceiling. Whether Vegeta went with them, Zarbon won't believe any changes—positive or negative—will affect the Ici Force.
Take that, pest!
BOOM!
There you go, Vegeta! Bring those peasants to their graves!
There's more coming right at us! Damn, they bought reinforcements!
I checked their power levels. The strongest among them is ten-thousand.
No full moon? Well, then. Son?
Yes, father!?
Remember what I'd said about looking at the full moon?
Of course! What about it!?
Let me show you how to create an artificial moon.
Really, Father?
Watch closely, my son. Manifest a ki ball in your palm.
Okay…
Throw it into the air!
Yes, and…
Burst open and mix!
Wow!
Keep staring at it, my son!
The moon. White, round, and mysterious, it perplexed Vegeta into solving why. Why can't he stare at it? Goku, who had a tail just like Vegeta, explained. Staring at the full moon will transform him into a monster. He suggested Vegeta never to look at it when nighttime came.
The image he saw, it showed a full moon, created by his father. His army, himself included, were facing a bigger army. The previous memory had them preparing to eradicate a hostile planet off its inhabitants. Lizard-looking men marching towards them with spears and laser guns, they were menacing. His father creating a moon from a single ki blast baffled him. A command to look straight at it further confused him.
Does looking at the full moon turn him into a monster? His tail unwrapped itself, wiggling freely. Vegeta felt a poke on his shoulder. He fell asleep near the windowsill, tired from his near-explosive tantrum earlier. Bulma asked him to rest while she conversed with Willow and 'Zeke' about where they would be staying.
'Go with two complete strangers or stay? If they know who I am, then I must. There's no option, but… I like Earth. No, scratch that. I love Earth! A year of living here has enlightened me. Bulma and her family, Goku and his family, and the neighbors across Metro West City. They care for me. Carmen, especially. I somewhat sympathize with her struggles at home.'
Despite the opportunity to solve his real identity, Vegeta couldn't leave Earth alone. He was aware of Goku's strength can protect the planet in his absence. It just that a year had changed him. Bangs thundered in the bedroom, snapping Vegeta out of his train of thoughts. He looked over his shoulder, watched the door bulging inward, and heard a familiar voice yell from behind.
"Come on out, Monkey Boy!"
"Tomba?"
"Because of you and that outburst, Bulma's demoting me! I can't let this slide! Come out and face me!"
He grunted. Not in the mood to deal with Tomba's nagging, Vegeta thought. "Take this as a change, Tomba. Learn not to act bossy towards your subordinates." He smirked.
Tomba growled. "How dare you talk back!? You're a freak! A monster who doesn't belong here! Bulma said it herself!"
Eyes widened, Vegeta leaned away from the window. A couple steps forward and he breathed, then said, "is that right? Did she say that?"
Chuckles vibrated through the metal door. "Of course, she said it. She doesn't want a monkey boy around Capsule Corporation."
As if his heart suffered a massive crack, Vegeta winced. All those times she'd been kind, it was all an act. No, it can't be true! "You're lying. She wouldn't call me a freak."
"She's the boss, so her words are always correct. Even her father agrees. Take my advice and leave, Monkey Boy! Never come near her again!"
Between the sole person who'd comforted him and separating from her had broken his patience. Rage swelled inside his stomach, blossoming to his chest and neck. The top of that swelling reached his head. Several throbs hit both temples. Vegeta lowered his head, sweat dripping off his forehead and soaking the carpet floor. Tomba's chuckles faded, then tuned to a higher tone. It fluctuated until Vegeta ground his teeth behind sealed lips.
'She wouldn't. I'd done everything in return of her gratitude. How she would abandon me over close calls is preposterous! No, no, no!'
He faced the window, a beam of silver light hit him. It came from the moon. Streaks of clouds drifted away, revealing its full grace. The full moon, it was beautiful. He promised Goku never to look directly at it, but he needed something to quench his anger. Thirty seconds of direct glancing and his heart thumped once. Twice, thrice, it picked up speed.
Heat seeping into skin and muscle, Vegeta gasped, eyes widening bigger, pupils turning a sickly pink. Tomba's voice muted, which was needed, but drums pounded inside his ears. Like hammers, they dug deep. 'What is this feeling? AGH!'
Roars echoed within his subconsciousness. The memory he'd dreamed about resurfaced, only different. Those soldiers who ran towards his father's army were tiny, around the size of ants. Sense of glee tickled his spine, as two gigantic bare feet crushed a chunk of the enemy's group.
'What is this? Why are they so small?'
Hair grew thick and covered most of his body. Arms, jawline, abdomen, and legs, it kept growing.
'What did that moon do to me?'
"That's it, Vegeta! Embrace your beast!"
The baritone, distorted voice came from his father. In a first-person POV, he saw lots of giant apes rampaging across the village. Next to him was the biggest monster. He wore armor and a cape, the same outfit his father wore. Looking down, he noticed his armor stayed on, despite the unknown transformation sequence that occurred.
'My beast? Is this what Goku meant?'
It only took one stubborn, pissed-off man to set him off. All those close calls wouldn't solve the fact of Vegeta being an alien. An alien hell-bent on destruction and attention. But he wasn't like them. Those saiyans were the ones interested in murder. Not him; he was different. Then why was he seeing these visions? Why do they mean to him?
'Tomba is right; I'm a monster!'
Oh, look! Fashionista's here.
Aw, look at that dumb ponytail of his! Let's use it as a paintbrush!
No, please. Mother braided it.
Gonna cry to your mommy? Boo-hoo!
So sensitive, Fashionista.
Alright, class. Today is Art Day. Show us your best work at the end, okay?
What it gonna be, Fashionista?
O-Okay.
Sensitive and submissive? I guess you're pretty useful, Fashionista!
OUCH!
Beeps from his scouter alerted Zarbon. Good timing, as his terrible memories were irritating to revisit. He sat up, grabbed the scouter, and tapped a button, showing him arrows pointing to where the escalating power level was. Willow, already sat up, stared at the exact direction. "Do you sense it, Willow?"
"My senses don't fail me."
They rushed out the room, running to the location. Zarbon kept track of the scouter's readings. He knew what was happening. Vegeta must have transformed. 'My suspicions are correct. He shouldn't be trusted. This mission is pointless.'
He and Willow jogged upstairs twice, then saw Tomba backing away from Vegeta's bedroom door. Rumbles quaked the hallway. Bits of debris rained upon them. "What the hell is Monkey Boy doing!?"
"Stand back!" Willow, quick on her feet, kicked the door. It flew out the frame, skidding across the carpet. Her eyes widened, then she leaned backwards. "Crap, he's transforming!"
Zarbon swore under his breath, then stood beside Willow, witnessing Vegeta's mid-transformation into a great ape. He was over seven feet tall, his polo t-shirt and beige jeans ripping from the overwhelming growth. Even his leather shoes got obliterated from his expanding feet. "See, Willow! He's planning to eradicate the earthlings!"
"Oh, would you shut up!? We have to stop him!"
"Who the hell are you two!?"
"We're his friends."
Tomba smirked. "Oh, Booger Boy and Emo are Monkey Boy's friends? This is perfect."
Booger Boy rubbed Zarbon the wrong way. Willow twitched an eye when Tomba called her 'Emo.' They now understood Vegeta's pent-up frustration towards him. A monstrous roar shook the hallway further. "GET AWAY! FROM ME!"
Vegeta launched through the window, but ended up smashing the wall. The floor caved in, dropping chunks of debris two levels down. Screams blared into the vacant night sky. The employees saw a mysteriously huge ape fly into the air.
"He's not attacking the city?"
"Seems like he's going to another location. Come on, let's go after him."
"Yeah, go! We don't want a booger-shaded freak and goth bitch around here!"
Maybe Bulma should have fired Tomba's ass, Willow thought to herself before taking her boots off. She tossed them to Zarbon, who fumbled to catch. "What are you—"
"Catching up to him, of course! You…" She took one snarl at Tomba, then glanced at Zarbon. "Take care of the annoying prick."
After being called 'Booger Boy,' Zarbon was reminded of the terrible memory. Those ugly boys pulling his elegant ponytail braid, the one his mother crafted with gentleness and love. They used the end as a paintbrush, getting the best artwork on Art Day. Of all the colors, they'd dipped his hair in red and blue. A murky purple shined at its tip.
"Affirmative!"
Willow nodded, jogged toward the gaping hole Vegeta made, and jumped out. Feet first, she sprinted in accelerating limits. It shocked the employees and citizens.
"That's right. Get Monkey Boy's ass off this world! We don't want him! No one wants him!"
"I suggest you stop rambling insults, pest."
Zarbon placed Willow's boots on the carpet floor. Flashes of those boys—with their distorted lips, snouts, and bulging eyes—bugged him. When he returned home, his mother gasped at the mess. She washed it thoroughly, while comforting her beloved son. Tomba reminded him of those boys. All those people who wouldn't accept him or his beauty.
"Excuse me! You're a goddamn visitor! And a weird-looking one, too. Hair and skin the shade of green? Yeah, you're exactly a Booger Boy!"
His laughter was the final straw. Beauty doesn't solve problems, Zarbon pondered. Ici taught him how to use that other side to better use. For all his life, he believed that side was a curse. He still believed it, but Ici and Willow showed him how useful it could be. Like scaring the crap out of this jerk. A smirk spread on his face.
"Keep talking. You'll regret this."
"I'm already regretting my decision. I should've been harder on Monkey Boy and Ms. Maeko."
Tomba ignored Zarbon, not acknowledging the visitor's body growth and horrific shifting. Ignorant and stubborn were traits he doesn't drop, not when Bulma demoted him to a regular employee. Well, he'll start learning to change. A shadow eclipsed Tomba, and he jolted from the sudden darkness. "What the—"
Some massive hand with sharp fingernails gripped his receding head. His eyes moved to where the hand was. Although not as tall as Vegeta's mid-transformation, this beast was terrible to Tomba. "Ahhhh…"
"I'd warned you. Now, you've unleashed him!"
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!
Never go near her again!
He's right, I'm a monster.
The transformation ended, yet it didn't stop Vegeta from distancing himself. Everything Tomba said was true; he was a monster and Bulma can't accept him. Add the fact he broke Goku's promise. He stared at that moon and now…
I should've said yes.
He flew above the desert, unbothered by the scorching heat and dusty wind. Animals became stunned by his immense form levitating over their territory. He doesn't care. No one wanted him. He tried ignoring Tomba and his insults, but eventually, it got to him.
Who wants a monster as a friend?
His eyes caught a mountain big enough to hide his wide form. Once the surrounding animals were gone, he descended to the ground. Enormous clouds of dust covered his lower body. Some got into his agape mouth and he coughed hysterically. Owl hooting and dinosaurs screeching, the silence wouldn't come to him.
Bulma… Why does she change her mood? She has an attitude, but to me? I understand her; she understands me. Her saying she doesn't want me around feels… Wrong.
Forearms wrapping around his knees, Vegeta bowed down, tears leaking past his eyes. His freakishly red eyes.