• 1-Take My Hand
• 2-Chapter 2

Disclaimer – I do not own Dragon Ball Z or any of the characters, nor do I own ‘Dido – Take My Hand’.

Vegeta was enraged, fuming. He had been pushed aside, uncaringly, as if his needs were of no consequence. It was that blue haired brats birthday and suddenly everything had to be put on hold, they were forgetting who the real royalty was; even if he was the prince of a dead race.

The construction of his Gravity room was coming along fine, the old man was doing his job surprisingly well for a man of his race. And as far as Vegeta could tell he was doing it with no ill-intentions.

But there was a whisper of a voice in his mind telling him he was letting his guard down, beginning to get too comfortable, he had learnt in his past that people didn’t do things unless they were getting something in return. After all he’d heard the saying: Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

He struggled internally, resisting the urge to blow something up. From a very young age his short fuse was well known, his father would often give him a good scolding after one of his destructive temper tantrums; but he had come to learn some semblance of control on Frieza’s ship, punishment there was a lot more severe.

He finished up some light kata, sensing the approach of some of the Z senshi. He had made it clear to the old man that he wanted nothing to do with this. A distinct energy signature put him on alert; a low dangerous growl escaped him.

“Kakarot!”

A brief splash of teal shimmered in his eyes, completely unnoticed by him, he angrily marched towards the French doors; disappearing into the kitchen as his arch rival and family appeared. A trail of footprints scorched into the grass and a few frightened assistant technicians mumbling ‘akuma’* the only sign he’d been there.

He grabbed a large glass from the cupboard, turned the cold tap on and let it run till it was cold. He had checked in the fridge before during his stay here and seen the vast assortment of beverages, it had done nothing but confuse him. He had not completely learned to read and write in this tongue. But he was happy enough using the tap.

He kept his back to the door as people rushed in and out to prepare, a few greetings were mumbled to him, but word spread that he was not in a particularly good mood after the glass he held in a vice grip was shattered; he was soon left alone.

Soon enough there was complete silence, if he didn’t count the hushed whispers coming from the living room; he still could not get his head around such a pointless celebration. What was the point in surprising someone for they’re birthday, surely they already knew what day it was?

He selected another glass from the cupboard and went back to the sink, the glass he had shattered lay scattered in the silver of the sink, specs of crimson dotted the sides.
He looked at his hand, the wound was almost gone; it had been so long since he had seen his blood. It felt almost alien to him.

He let the water run, washing away the dark red, then filled his glass.

His ears picked up muffled footsteps approaching the kitchen, he knew who it was; he found no need to turn around. Instead he continued to drink his water.
Once he finished the contents of the glass he ed ted to look at her, becoming increasingly annoyed, he silently wondered if she had wedged it into her daily regime to constantly stare at him several times a day.

Her choice of attire seemed rather different from usual. She wore on her feet something that resembled a stuffed mammal; it appeared to be one of those animals her parents kept in the gardens, or rather an imitation. Why would anyone want to wear fake stuffed animals on their feet?

Looking at her, he briefly reflected that this was not his world; he saw no need to learn, nor embrace their ways. Once Kakarot was defeated, this planet and its inhabitants would be dust. Why settle on a doomed planet?

He went back to his water ignoring her attempt at ‘making conversn’; n’; these ningens were becoming too comfortable with him. It wasn’t until she spoke again that he turned. He did not know what kind of game she was playing but he didn’t like it, he couldn’t tell if she was feigning ignorance, or if she was just plain stupid. He could still here the hushed voices coming from the other room, and even if her inferior hearing couldn’t pick up the sounds, surely the eerily quiet atmosphere put her on alert?

Choosing not to waste his time on her, he re-filled his glass.

Knowing no progress would be made on his upcoming Gravity Room, he decided it would be best if he found something to occupy his time. He needed a distraction, something to put his mind off… things. Having too much free time put him in a pensive mood; time meant he could ‘reflect’ on things.

To be quite honest, he didn’t know what to do; he was a fish out of water.

Being here in this place, made him feel trapped; claustrophobic almost. It reminded him so much of being on the mother ship, the walls, the corridors; the echo. Sometimes when he woke, he would feel he was still there; then reality would set again and he’d notice the generously decorated room, the sun creeping through the curtains.

The worst thing was, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not.

Perhaps the thrill of a hunt would put him at ease for now. He could go for a fly, away from this place, all he wanted was a little distraction.

He didn’t know much about this planet, nor its animals. But he would search for the most ferocious of beasts to slay.

Staring at his half empty glass of water, he slowly poured it down the drain.

He made his way from the kitchen, heading straight for his bedroom. Before he went anywhere he wanted to change first, these human clothes were uncomfortable and got in the way; just like everything else on this ridiculous planet.

Half way up the stairs he heard a piercing shout of ‘surprise’, then a loud smash. The situation would have been extremely comical, if he had not just been shoved out the way by the emotional blue haired brat.

For a few moments he only saw red.

Never had a creature with such a low power level even touched him, let alone had the gall to remove him from their path. He wanted to go after her, show her what happens to individuals who dare cross his path.

He turned his head as he heard another set of footsteps bounding up the stairs, and just as the scar-faced coward attempted to push past him, he grabbed him by the neck; holding him flat against the railing.

A low growl rumbled from his chest and he stepped forward so he was almost nose to nose with Yamcha, and he ground out in a deadly voice, “For some reason you humans seem to think the prince of Saiya-jins can be pushed around.”

Yamcha struggled fruitlessly, clawing at his hand; Vegeta only chuckled darkly and added a little more pressure.

This was beginning to become familiar to him; he could vaguely remember himself in the human’s place, with an ice-cold thick white tail coiled around his throat; his pathetic attempts at clawing at the thick seemingly unbreakable skin.

The sound of feminine laughter.

He could feel the phantom pains, feel every crushing blow delivered to his back; each one more painful then the last.

“Vegeta put him down.”

His arch-rival was stood at the foot of the stairs; the expression on his face was almost Saiya-jin, if it wasn’t for those eyes. As his awareness began to swim back, Vegeta now noted the spectators, disgusted by his show of weakness he released Yamcha and glared at them warily; then he continued his journey towards his room.

Upon having reached his destination his clothes were literally torn off and replaced by his old, worn purging uniform. The uniform itself held its own memory’s, if not from the smell of old crusted blood, then from the holes and scars marring it.

This uniform was what his life was before he died.

He fingered the smallish hole on the breast plate of his armour; the hole that continued through his bodysuit. He found it rather ironic that from all of the fatal wounds he’d accumulated in his lifetime, the one he’d actually died from had left him no scar. The tattered uniform his only confident; it seems that death saw fit to try and swindle him.

Chuckling to himself darkly, he leapt from his window.

He let himself fall, closing his eyes and feeling the wind try and capture him, then at the last minute he ignited himself in a burst of ki and shot upwards; tearing through the walls of gravity with ease.

He flew higher so he could touch the clouds, never before had he come across a planet with this colouring… the purest of whites, to the darkest of greys. And despite their at times, soft warm appearance, they were cold to the touch and felt almost like soft ice.

It made him wonder what else on this planet was not as it seemed.

During his flight he found himself almost ‘liking’ the colour scheme of the planet. The greens, whites and blues seemed to mix well, he pondered that maybe Nappa was right, this planet would be worth a lot in the trade; it would such a shame to waste it. He chuckled again then increased his speed.

Everything became a blur, colours swirling and mixing, the gentle breeze became harsh and biting. And then he stopped.

He slowly let himself descend, the clouds were thicker here, colder; perhaps it would rain soon. The area around was dense, but not overly so; the trees around were spaced enough to give him moving space.

He could smell something, a strong musk; he was on marked territory.

As his feet touched down on the soft leafy ground a low growling reached his ears. A wide gimmeimmediately appeared on his face, he was not sure just how strong this beast was, or even what it looked like; but from the smell it was emitting, he could tell it was male.

He crouched and lowered his power to almost nothing.

It was then he saw a glimpse of something, orange, black. It was strange how as of late, his enemy’s, rivals seemed to come in orange; a colour he had never truly been fond of.

The creature was skilled in the ‘hunt’ it seemed, perhaps if he were human he would have missed it. The animal fully emerged, its coat contrasting with the lush green forest. It seemed to know he had seen it.

The animal was large, larger then he in fact; a thick pelt of gold/orange with dark brown patterned stripes, a white underbelly. It walked on four strong muscled legs; it must’ve at least been six feet in length. But what captured Vegeta’s attention the most were its fierce, hungry orange eyes; he admitted to himself that it was a handsome beast.

The creature circled him, sizing him up, its tail lashed wildly behind him; it almost reminded him of that creature that sat atop of the old mans shoulders, only a larger and fiercer version… a ‘Kitty’.

Although he no longer had his tail, he could still sense the unspoken tail signals, it sensed he wasn’t human, but it still saw him as food; it seemed this creature wanted this fight as much as he did.

It bared its teeth and let out an angered hiss before pushing off with its strong back legs leaping towards him. Vegeta was forced to reconsider his defence as he realised the animal had the ability of retractable claws; he dodged at the last minute.

The animal skidded to a halt and lunged towards him again, swiping its huge paw at Vegeta’s seemingly vulnerable throat. He took this opportunity to grab the outstretched paw and tossed the beast away like it was nothing; he watched with a childlike glee in his eyes as it got up shakily and let out a thunderous echoing roar.

He smirked, clearly understanding the challenge; this was no longer a fight for food. The animal backed away silently, slowly disappearing into the forest, but Vegeta wasn’t foolish enough to believe it had run, this was a proud creature. He too stepped into the surrounding forest.

It was dark, the tall thick trees blocked the main source of light; although he could still see very clearly, Vegeta thought it best to rely on other senses, instinct told him so. He knew he was being watched, followed, so he decided against creeping though the trees, and instead moved towards a small river he caught sight of earlier.

The area around the water was more open, thus giving him the advantage of seeing his opponent first. What he did not expect was the creature to leap from beneath the surface, landing on him with what would have been bone-crushing force if he were human. Before he could react, a large paw struck his side, cracking his armour, then he felt long claws sliding into his flesh; he could feel the claws were hooked securely, holding him in place. He was lifted a few inches then thrown back to the ground; like a plaything.

An outraged cry tore from his throat, the prince of Saiya-jins was no ‘plaything’!

A/N - We’ll know what ‘happened’ (future tense), next chap. I saw no need to drag this on.

* Akuma – Devil

I’ll try to get the next chap posted soon! :)