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Unforgivable	By : thePrincesJewel Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 7485 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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You like it? Really? Wow! I thought that last twist was gonna have you all throwing rotten eggs at me or something. Oh, I did up a picture of Kuroichi. It isn�t very good, there�s too much emotion, but it was the best I could finangle. I�ll stick it up on my website (yes, I do actually have one of those) later. I took liberties with some of the manga.
I�m getting more requests to make this yaoi. So, I better explain something real quick. Ahem. No flames allowed for my personal opinion, either. My personal opinion of homosexuality is that it�s a waste of the gene pool. Yaoi is most definitely a waste of men (I know entirely too many adorable men of that persuasion) and yuri is just plain ick and not to ever be thought of. The idea that there is a fem out there who could have the hots for me is disturbing. Having said all that, this is getting more yaoi by the second. Thank you for indulging in my confusion.

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It was the name I chose to keep. Vegeta couldn�t quite understand what he didn�t like about that. He�d sent Kuroichi home. He was unable to consider the man as Goku - that had been a habit for his entire life, but that he couldn�t consider him Kakarot bothered him. He�d called that man Kakarot for as long as he�d known him.

Yet, he wasn�t Kakarot any more than he was Goku. Not anymore. The emptiness that had seemed to surround the man had nothing about it of Goku�s effervescent charm, and none of Kakarot�s fighting spirit. He had changed out of recognition, only the chi signature giving him away. And that, he had effectively squashed so that he read as a normal human.

Vegeta trained, the routine a comfort after yesterday�s unsettling events. Look at me. Who am I, Master? If you didn�t know my chi, would you know me? And he�d had to admit that he wouldn�t. I saw him infrequently, usually only to spar, or occasionally at one of Bulma�s parties. His wife lived with him for years. Bulma has known him since he was a child. Yet, neither knew him. I don�t think either of them did more than glance at his face. That scar - the wound didn�t heal well. Not that the little ones were any improvement. So many scars. He let them whip him, let them cut him. He said it was because he didn�t care what happened to him anymore. I don�t� I don�t think I believe that.

I know I don�t. He cried in his sleep.

Kuroichi counted the money Vegeta had given him. He knew the value of money now, and the total astonished him. A year�s rent, at least. Or enough for a new start, to try again to be something else. He considered that idea, reminding himself of everything he�d tried to do, and failed at. And he made sure to add being a husband and father to that list. �If I had been a good husband, I wouldn�t be here. I�d be with Chi-Chi� who doesn�t even know me when I�m standing in front of her.�

Kuroichi shook his head. No use dwelling on it. He had his present to worry about. He could stay or go now. The choice was his. But� what did he want to do? In a way, he�s given me what I gave him so long ago, when I was Goku. I gave him a second chance. This money� I could start over. I wouldn�t need any kind of a job for awhile. I could learn how to fail at everything I haven�t failed at yet, I suppose. My rent is due. I suppose� I suppose I�d better pay it.

Kuroichi pulled a small storage capsule from its hiding place. The three things in it �poofed� on the bed. He picked them up, one at a time, trying to remember why he had kept them. He regarded the small gold ring a very long time, his mind carefully blank. What it had meant to him, when he�d last seen it, he didn�t want to dwell on. This. I could have buried this with the rest of those things. I could have sold it once I remembered about it. It would have paid the rent, stocked the pantry. Why did I keep this? It�s just a broken promise. I�ll send it back to her, say I found it in his things when I was clearing his stuff out. It no longer holds any meaning for me.

The last item was a photograph. �Vegeta�� He held the picture, comparing the face smiling up at him with the man he�d left the day before. �You recovered.� The photos, trinkets, and three-quarters of the money went back into the little capsule. He tucked it away, back in its hiding place.

The ring went into an envelope with a brief note. He shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans, scooped up the money he hadn�t stashed, and walked out the door. The landlord lived on the first floor of the building, and was quite happy to write Kuroichi a receipt for three months rent. Having settled where he would live for awhile, Kuroichi went shopping, and dropped the letter in a mailbox on the way.

Damn him! Vegeta fumed, punishing the inoffensive air around him. Why must his memories still consume me? I thought I finally got them settled! To see him again�. It stirred them back up. That must be it. He gave up his training as a lost cause, and settled down to work through the peculiarities.

It is the emptiness that bothers me the most. He had so much pain inside, before. Even from before� what happened between us. I felt nothing of that this time. I felt nothing from him but a few flashes of anger and that despair when his wife didn�t recognize him. Where did all his emotion go? Kakarot was a very emotional creature.

This Kuroichi is much more like me. Like I was, I should say. Everything is bottled up, so tightly that nothing seeps through. Except he has no pride, and only the slightest will to live. Considering Kakarot�s condition the last time I saw him, it is something of a miracle that he is still alive. What drove him to so surrender himself to that nothingness, so that at least a shell of himself could survive?

Kuroichi knows that he is Goku, Kakarot. He said he killed Goku. But� he said nothing of killing Kakarot. Perhaps it was the Saiyan will to survive that keeps the shell alive, and no doing of Goku�s at all? That made a twisted sort of sense. A Saiyan would, after all, do whatever was necessary in order to survive. His own survival, in spite of Frieza�s abuse , was proof enough of that.

He told me that Yardrat woman told him he still had his Saiyan memories, just not conscious access to them. That opened up a whole new realm of possibilities. Does he think of himself as weak? As a failure? The price of such on Vegeta was almost always death. The weak usually did not survive the training. The weakest - I remember! - the weakest were shipped off-planet, so that our enemies couldn�t harm them. Isn�t that what Father said? I saw so many pods go out. And I watched Frieza track down and destroy them. Kakarot survived, because he was sent off just before Frieza destroyed our world. Raditz and Nappa survived because Frieza didn�t consider them to be any kind of a threat, and didn�t want to raise me. That was their job.

Vegeta shook his head angrily. Those memories did not help with the puzzle named Kuroichi. And they made him so angry all he was interested in was completely forgetting about them. A meal would help. Cooking was oddly therapeutic, as long as his wife didn�t find out. Naturally, she was in the kitchen.

Kuroichi stopped short, dropping one of his bags. �What are you doing here?�

�The woman was in the kitchen. I felt like cooking.�

�How did you get in?� He bent, grabbed the bag, and headed for his bed.

�Your landlord was ridiculously easy to bribe. He also thinks I�m a customer of yours.�

�You told him that?�

�Of course not. He did, however, remember me.�

�Ah.� Vegeta heard appreciative sniffing. �What are you making?�

�Homemade pizza, garlic bread, steamed rice, hamburgers, and fried chicken. Mashed potatoes and gravy. The sushi and salad are ready, and the rolls. I�ll make a cake later.� He turned, watched Kuroichi finish spreading out a new blanket over his bed. �You decided not to move.�

�It suits me to stay.�

�It doesn�t seem quite as empty as before.�

�I�ve done some shopping.� Kuroichi sat at the table, loaded a plate. �I entertain here more often than I used to. Needed stuff.�

�I saw some of that stuff,� Vegeta returned dryly, seating himself. The food was safe to leave for awhile, and he was hungry. They ate in silence. Vegeta had made more food than they needed, but he had been cooking for two Saiyans, not this strange Kuroichi, who ate less than half of what Goku would have. He frowned, looking at what still cooked, and back to the other man.

�Don�t you like my cooking? You�ve barely touched it.�

�I don�t eat that much any more.� Kuroichi lifted a shoulder in a self-deprecating shrug. �I haven�t eaten like a Saiyan� well, for a long time.�

�Are you saying there�s a difference?� Vegeta asked, recalling the way some of Trunks� friends had put away food. He caught the faintest hint of a smile on the other�s face when he shook his head and loaded his plate again.

�Not much of one, I suppose.�

They finished off the red velvet cake before speaking again. Vegeta had taken over Kuroichi�s new couch, lounging on it, happily replete. Kuroichi sprawled across his bed, his stomach distended with the food he�d eaten. �I ate too much.�

�You just aren�t used to eating that much anymore. It wasn�t even half of what you used to eat.�

��Geta, I swear, I haven�t eaten that much for over a year. It was too much. I think�� What he thought was immediately apparent as he bolted for the bathroom.

�What a waste.� Vegeta�s eyes closed. Full and oddly at peace, he fell asleep.

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Vegeta: I would not cook for him. I don�t cook.

Jewel: You expect me to believe you can�t?

Vegeta: I didn�t say I can�t, I said I don�t!

Goku: Yah! I got to eat. Wait a minute - I got sick??!

Jewel: Goku, hun, why don�t you go take a nap or something?

Goku (indignant): I am not a little kid!

Jewel & Vegeta: Sometimes it�s real hard to tell.

Goku: *leaves in a huff*

Vegeta: Why am I cooking for him?

Jewel: Cooking is therapeutic for you. *points at the appropriate line* See? And you don�t want Bulma to know you can cook.

Vegeta: That, I agree with.

Jewel: Besides, you just had a thought. I have forgotten what the thought was, though, so I had to put you to sleep until I remembered.

Vegeta: You�re daft, you know that?

Jewel: Of course!
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Unforgivable