BY : Felix_McKraken
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 1875
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters. This was made purely for entertainment purposes and no profit is made off of it.

Nowhere: F(our)t»een.


So easy to describe. Such a simple description. Such utter pain or joy from the act, not to mention everything in between and beyond.

Rearrangement has so many possibilities. So many things can occur - can range from simple to intricate, and one is capable of masquerading as the other. For him, it brought upon something unbearable: the shifting of an entire perspective.

Denial was not a viable option. To not accept was another thing all together, and, as he so often did, he relied upon the failsafe. When he rejected, then it usually followed that he wasn’t inquisitive. However, as the saying went, “Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.”

It was further complicated by the complete inanity in trying to assemble appropriate questions. But it would happen anyway. He was too accustomed to his thoughts being his only real company.

The snowflakes gently fell through the stagnant air, collecting on the dry grass and slowly concealing it. The ice particles drifted down, landing on his exposed skin as well - melting at the contact. He thought of how every individual snowflake was supposedly unique - how every one of them was blessed with that gift. Out of all their vast numbers, how could there not be more identical ones? From his vantage point, they all appeared the same.

He sighed deeply and made his breath a mass of dancing swirls in the afternoon air. He clutched his arms tighter against his chest and dipped his chin down to his collarbone.

The prince wondered if something here viewed him – people - like he saw the snowflakes: tiny, indiscernible, insignificant.

His clothing, not made for harsh conditions, made him long for the warmth of Kakarot's flat. It saddened him to think of his folly of traveling alone and distrusting the other man. Kakarot had actively tried to keep him out of danger, but the idea that he needed to be protected also irked him. He regarded this notion of protection as confining and insulting, causing him to act recklessly out of spite. So he had waited for the proper window of opportunity and slipped away into the unknown.

He slowed a bit as he approached a fence to get a better look. It was difficult to determine the age of the wooden posts, and the barbed wire offered little insight too. He uncoiled begrudgingly, the cold making his joints and muscles stiff. It was an effort to grasp the pole securely, and another act of willpower to safely hoist himself up and over to the other side. The entire affair caused him to collapse onto the ground. Though tired and weary, being prostrate offered little comfort as the snow-littered ground only served to chill him further.

Grunting, Vegeta forced himself into a sitting position, drawing his knees up to rest his head against them.

It was not as if he was a stranger to travel. Leaving Kakarot behind was born from a drive to divest himself of all that he knew now in order to replace it with his past – to fill his head and heart with things he could not name. Despite being rescued by an enigmatic, elusive sable-haired bastard, he felt an underlying current of intrigue and satisfaction which exonerated the younger male.

His eyelids drooped as his consciousness fluttered from one state to the next, back and forth. He was completely fatigued, battling against exhaustion for an innumerable time.

He didn’t want to rest here. He didn’t want to yield to the demands of his withered stamina. He didn’t want to face the implications of his flight.

It was weakness. It was failure. And if he did not recover, if he did not excel, if he did not succeed then he would surely perish. This is what propelled his movement. This is what kept him going.

Vegeta unwillingly slept.

Rearranged. Wholly unaware.


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