Not Meant For Me
By Dark Hope Assassin
I stand by a sakura tree. It's a windy spring day but I can't feel it. The sharp breeze is hitting hard against my front body and ruffling the rosy coloured leaflets of the midget tree while I gazed down towards the lively town from my place on the hill-top. But I'm too deep in thought to notice any of nature's small wonders or its beauty.
Why am I here? Why did all of this happen to me? How is it that I feel this emptiness unshakable inside, enveloping my heart and mind in this thick fog of uneasiness and vacancy? Why do I feel like this? What is this feeling?
But I'm getting ahead of myself and confusing you even more than I am. I better explain to you the reason for me standing here all confused and generally messed up. Why am I different from the others? I lace my fingers in my ebony locks and pull my hair gently back as if it's not straight enough with its flame-like style. I smirk weakly as I feel my hair shorter than it originally was. My smirk turns into a deep frown as I lean back on the sakura tree and let myself drift off in thought…
Let me tell you a little story – the story of my family's fate… Let me tell you how and why I died…
I stared at myself in the mirror, bottom lip curled in a firm childish pout. My dark spiky hairs seemed to be on a rampage as they always were, but this time I could relate to the feeling myself – I was in frenzy. Every fiber of my body willed me to object to my parents' wishes. Every little part of me wanted to scream, to yell until my voice was no more, but I couldn't show such a weakness or submit to such a disgraceful act. I have been a burden to my parents my whole life. I have brought only misery to them since day one, or at least they behaved a way that made me believe so. But I've ceased to care soon enough. I was what I was. And they would not make me change just because they did not like the way I acted.
I was furious that day. I was frustrated and agitated to a boiling point. I overreacted every time I had to do that and for a damned good reason too, so I thought back then! I hated it. I hated her too, with an immeasurable ardour. I hated them as well; I hated them for making me do it. I hated them for doing that to me. I hated them both for having her in the first place. Why had they needed her after they had me? Had I not been good enough to please their whims? Had that been why she existed? I wished someone would answer my questions. I wished someone would try to make me feel better, comfort me, whisper a few words to ease my soul's heavy weight, a weight too great for a heart that small. However, no one wanted to approach me anymore. They were probably afraid I'd erupt in anger or beat them up or whatever. But, as I mentioned already, I had ceased to care.
I turned around, not able to stand my frowning expression in the mirror a second longer. I had tried running away from home already in a desperate cowardly attempt to end this my way. My stupid parents had informed the authority and now I had to endure this hell all over again. But I didn't want the stupid cops to be on my trail again. I felt uneasy staring in their glaring eyes. I could have never figured that they had just the same thoughts about me.
My name is Briefs, Vegeta Briefs. I was ten years old at the time the following events took place but my mental turmoil and instability caused by my overwhelming feelings a boy my age shouldn't even know about made me sound much older. My father was the most important person on the planet. He was a scientist and wanted me to follow his lead and become one too when I grew up. Father and his stupid visions of my future that I had no intention of participating in… so annoying, nonsensical and inconsiderate… Anyway, Dr. Briefs, as he liked to be called, the inventor of the capsules and president of Capsule Corporation, was the person I was used to call "father".
"Vegeta," I heard a high-pitched voice behind myself. I cringed but turned around before I had to hear it again. My eyes laid on my worst nightmare-come-true – my younger sister. Her sapphire eyes gleamed with joy as she was told I'd take her out for a walk in the park, where she'd play and generally enjoy herself. She had tied her shoes and was looking expectantly at me. Yes, you got that right. I had a little sister. Her name was Bulma. She was a year younger than me, but she looked like she was four at the time. She was a retard in my eyes, but I had avoided stating my opinion in fear of her whimsical self running to Mother and Father's embrace in search for comfort. I didn't want them hanging on my neck because of that little insolent bitch.
I sighed. It was a sigh of pure irritation. You can already tell that I was not from those people that are so over-protective of their younger relatives, and especially those berserk older brothers of their younger sisters. I was no where even near to such a thing as I cared none who and what did to her. To tell you the truth as I already did earlier, I resented my sister's guts.
"Are you about ready? It's not as if someone actually cares how you look like when you go out to play in the sandbox." I snapped sharply at her, rolling my eyes after my statement. She was used to my comments and reactions about by now. She usually didn't answer any of them. She just watched me with those deep blue eyes as if she was trying to hypnotize me and make me say I'm sorry for being 'mean' to her. Yeah, right; that would happen only in her bravest dreams.
"For a girl it is always of great importance to look good." She had this smug expression on her face that adorable kids our age usually get when they're told their toys look modern or just getting complimented at all. I despised that kind of expression… "Let's go now! I can't wait to get there!" She exclaimed enthusiastically and I mumbled something incoherent I cannot recall as I fetched my shoes. If it was a hellish day for me after I stepped over that threshold, a hellish day it would be, whether I liked the idea or not and no matter how reluctant I was to do it.
"Vegeta!" she called me from ahead with that annoying shrill voice of hers. I frowned deeply at her back which was facing me, but she did not seem to notice with her beaming toothy smile anything other than the birds' song and whatever, all this mushy stuff girls notice when they're happy… Her attitude pissed me off the most. I didn't like the fact she was my sister. And I certainly didn't like that my parents made me take her out to play again. They were really busy people and didn't have time for such issues. I didn't really care when they made me do things around the house: tidy a room, move something, or even wash dishes and other chores resembling that. I was ready to become a housewife before I had to spend a second longer there with someone like her.
"Vegeta!" she kept calling my name, giddy as ever could be. Did she not note the annoyance I looked at her with? Was she blind? Well, there was nothing to be done about it, even if she was oblivious to my malign.
I sat on a bench as far away from her as possible. I didn't want people to know we were related. I felt embarrassed by having people know I was her brother. It made me feel like a retard myself. I sighed. An irritated sigh it was again. I guessed there was nothing to be done about this either and especially when it came to choosing your parents – it was a given and no one had a say in it… At least she didn't call me "brother", "bro" or anything that instantly would inform other people that she was my sister. I felt like she was doing this on purpose, not calling me any of those things. Yet I had the feeling that if I found out why, I was going to hate her even more than I did then, so I never asked. Besides, asking would mean interrogating with her and interrogation meant irritation for me… I wasn't masochistic, after all.
Ever since she was little, Bulma had received all of the love of our parents. She had been showered with gifts since the day she was born. Since the day mother had expelled her from her body… Everyone was treating her like a glass doll, something so fragile and petite, as if she could break at any moment. They were treating her like a princess, a goddess even. Or merely just like the rich kid she should have been treated as. But I didn't want to hear any of it. She had all of the attention, all of our parents' time, which could be spared; all the love they could humanly give. I didn't need my parents, I never have. All I needed them for was the food, the roof to live under and the pocket money they gave me every week. Yet, in the same time, I still felt the rage and jealousy burning inside me every time Bulma hugged them, received kisses and byes and welcomes whenever she went in and out of the house.
I heard another frustrated sigh escape between my lips. Well, there was nothing I could do about this. And I was not going to do anything about it, even if I could. It wasn't my concern what was done or what she did, for that matter, for her. Hell would freeze over before I'd begin to care.
I lifted my gaze up, expecting to see her on that stupid swing again, enjoying herself, or doing yet another stupid girly thing or whatever. And then I saw she saw missing… again. I growled deep within my throat, feeling how sore it was getting from grumbling the whole day. If she got lost, my Mother would snap and Father would definitely beat the living daylights out of me for being so 'irresponsible' of a big brother. "She is your little sister, for goodness' sakes! You have to at least take care she doesn't get lost while she's out with you!" I could already hear him, screaming at me as his hand swings back but is caught by Mother's the second time he wants to hit me. Yep, you can tell these arguments were not really a rare event in our 'humble' little family.
I rose from the bench and explored the area in the laziest pace I could muster. I sighed. I'd do this, but I wouldn't like it.
"Bulma!" I yelled. I hated her name just as much as I hated her shockingly white face. She had always been like that. Her skin such a snowy white colour… With the oddly lavender locks of hair in her face, sticking in her mouth every once in a while causing her to brush them off occasionally, making her utterly disgusting with her exceeding girlish cuteness… Her sapphire deep eyes that made me want to vomit every time she stared at me with that childish innocence of all kids our age.
"Bulma!" I yelled again, this time with even less enthusiasm. Why was I doing this? Let Mother scream her head off and cry her eyes dry. Let Father kick, hit and punch me until he's sore all over and can't even hold a pen straight. They could call the authorities and everything would be perfectly fine – they'd find their precious little daughter in a flash, being the heiress of the most important person in the whole world and everything. I tried to tell myself that. But in the back of my mind, I knew this was my fault, my carelessness' fault. And I would be the one held responsible if something happened to her. Not that I cared if something would happen…
I kept looking for her, even despite my conflicting emotions. I had checked everywhere around and there was still no trace of her. I heard children's laughter and frowned. I hated it every time I heard that sound – so careless and gleeful… So innocent and ignorant that it sent me in a childish rampage, knowing that because of my twisted nature I would never be able to be like that, to feel like that… All that I could consider fun was kicking those who were laughing in the gut.
Though, this time I felt strangely gravitated to the place the laughter was coming. There was no carelessness and joyousness in that sound this time… I glanced over to one of the kids and found that in the center there was another trying to snatch a jacket out of a girl's hand… out of my sister's hands.
"Give it here, idiot!" The boy yelled at her and a hoarse laughter ran through all of the third graders.
They were all bigger than her and the boy was certainly stronger than Bulma. I noted that the jacket she was protecting was actually mine since I forgot to take hers from the hanger at home. But that didn't occur to me when the adrenaline started pumping in my veins along with my blood. I felt anger unlike any other before… Why? I hated her, more than anything else in the whole wide world, yet I couldn't watch her being mocked by those complete strangers… What did I care? Maybe there was some brotherly side to my character after all, one I have never even suspected there could be… I couldn't explain how I felt, but I knew what I wanted to do about those feelings…
"No!" she yelled back. Her voice was stern and determined, despite the fact that she realized she was being out-numbered and out-powered by the kids. She didn't see me and continued being oblivious of my presence. She had her eyes closed and tears were probably threatening to cascade down her cheeks. "It's not yours! Let it go! Vegeta will hate me forever if something happens to his favourite jacket!" she said even more steadfast of herself this time, opening her flashing in rage eyes. The kids chuckled and the one that was teasing her smirked arrogantly. She didn't budge at the look on his face, nor did she let go of my garment.
"I have no idea who you're talking about, you big baby, but if you cry I promise I'll let go!" The boy tittered cruelly after his statement, making Bulma growl her irritation and I clenched my fists. How dare that spoilt brat talk to a Briefs that way? I didn't care about my feelings for her at that exact moment – all I cared for was that some unknown kid was manhandling Bulma Briefs, heiress to the billion dollar Capsule Corporation.
However, my sister was obviously no wimp, or at least she had the courage to stand up for herself. She slapped the boy's hand away from my jacket and it instantly turned bright red. I smirked unconsciously before I realized what he was about to do next. His right hand rose in the air – he would hit her any moment. But I'd give him no time to do so.
I slammed a kid from the crowd forward to fall over the attacker and jumped in on them, hitting each of them mercilessly. I was a really violent child, you can say that… Most children are uncoordinated, and don't know what they're doing… but not me. I knew perfectly well how powerfully and where to hit so it hurt… I was a scary child, indeed…
Bulma sniffled angrily and pulled back against my back, glaring at the group of mean boys, exultation shining in her eyes as she stuck her tongue out at them, all those fools backpedaling a step or two. Huffing after finishing off the two who retreated with tears falling down their chubby red faces, my onyx eyes scanned the small crowd of scared children, rage burning in my dark orbs. I bared my gritted teeth at them and slammed my left fist into my right palm before their eyes. "Does anyone think it's still funny?" My voice sounded intimidating even in my own ears back then – a voice unfitting for such a small frame… A voice that knew anger and resentment too well for a child not even at the age of twelve…
Before I knew it, the kids scattered around and I hadn't seen them since then. There was a very uncomfortable silence after that, my back facing Bulma, my thick-headed self stubbornly refusing to look at her grateful face… because I had just saved her… I saved her… And I was really angry at those boys… because they were being mean to my little sister… a sister I despised more than anything in my short life span…
My arms falling to my sides, I turned on my heel and glared at her, getting ready to yell at her for getting in trouble in the first place. She opened her mouth with an ecstatic, "Tha—" but I snatched my jacket from her, interrupting her before she could finish and swinging it over my shoulder, my back instantly facing her again.
"Shut up and get moving. And if you say a word about this to Mother and Father, I'll kill you." I tried to sound as menacing as I could, being as shaken up as I was. She was about to object, I knew, but when I took off she obediently followed, without a word spoken between us.
I didn't want to hear her thanks! I didn't want her ever reminding me that I had saved her! I still hated her, now even more than ever, for making me… turning me into… into… this! This overprotective big brother, whose actions spoke of care and worry, things I would never ever feel for her.
And she kept her promise. She never mentioned a word to Mother or Father about the confrontation, nor did she ever remind me of it…
The next night, I found myself training the whole day without as much as a brake. You'd say that for a ten year old I made a lot of fuss about it. Well, to tell you the truth, there wasn't anything else I could do around this house besides training to entertain myself. I didn't like watching television, I didn't like associating with my sister, I didn't like having her presence near and I didn't like the idea of being alone with her in the house and, god forbid, even in the same room. But living in Capsule Corporation was like living in a Palace. Although it had this strange dome-like shape which made it impossible to be mistaken for a Palace from those foolish fairy-tales, it could still be a castle's rival by the numbers of rooms it had.
Anyway, what I meant is that the place was huge. There were tens, hundreds of rooms even, in here, having various people living inside the compound – employees, friends, relatives… Many different people, most of which I have never even seen – from big-shots looking for a roof to sleep under for a day or two to small fries that work for Father and live under our roof permanently, either in the living quarters specially provided for the employees of Capsule Corporation or in the main building on rental. And every time I walked around this huge house, I encountered Bulma countless times… And you should take in mind the fact this place is truly colossal and it's next to impossible bumping into someone around here… I guess you could just call it my luck then…
And the only place where only I was allowed to go, and that was I alone, was the training chamber. Why? Well that would be because I had it made all to myself and no one else, so I decided who could stay and who had to go when there.
The training chamber looks more like a dome from the outside. I felt as if it had a different atmosphere inside here. It was just… Well, I guess I had this feeling because it reeked of me, my sweat, of the blood I spilled… It was my only real refuge in this world. Great, now I sounded like a rascal…
I hit the wall with my tightly clenched fist. I didn't know why I felt so… so… empty all over again… I really had no idea what I wanted to achieve in life at the time… But which ten-year-old really does? I didn't know the reason I kept going… I simply didn't have one… What a sad thought that was… especially having in mind that I was but a ten year old… You have no idea what a burden it is to have spent only ten years in this world and be already fully awake and aware of things surrounding you… You have no idea how heavy a burden it is to feel all this hate and resentment for no apparent reason whatsoever, eating you from the inside…
I heard the door moan open and ceased all movement with my back towards the intruder. A noticed out of the corner of my eye a head poking inside the premise, curious cerulean eyes scanning the room for my frame in the darkness provided by the faint red light that would annoy my eyes to no end if I paid much attention to it.
"Vegeta, are you here?" the shrill voice of my little sister calls, making me cringe in exasperation.
"Take a freaking guess," I snapped at her, causing her to pull back slightly before she obviously remembered why she came barging in and interrupting my precious time for training.
"Mom and Dad are going out for a few days, some sort of meeting about Capsule Corporation…"
"Tell me something I don't know…" I growled and threw several punches in the air to relieve the anger that was building up in me. She didn't keep quiet for long…
"There are enough things in the fridge for just one sandwich and I was wondering what you'd like me to order for dinner—" She stopped suddenly when my furious eyes glared ablaze at her frame over the threshold to my sanctuary.
"Stop boring me with such tedious matters and get lost! Can't you see I'm busy?" I yelled at her, scaring her off. I felt a strange surge of contentedness when I heard the door slam shut and resumed my training with renewed vigor.
However, as much as I hated to admit it, about an hour or a couple more later, the sounds my stomach made every time I strained it were too loud to ignore. I had to eat something, and fast. I went straight to the kitchen to find it as empty as my ditzy mother's head. I groaned and leant over the open door for support. What was I going to do now? I didn't have anything left to eat since I shooed Bulma off, it's already too late to order anything, people have to be nuts to work at this hour and the nearest super market was half an hour away. And by the time I reached it, I'd be famished…
I took a whiff of the air, and then devoured the air hungrily with my nostrils. Delicious… Something very delicious was releasing its scent in the air…
I followed the trace of sweet odour to my taste buds towards the living room, where I found an unopened pizza lying on the table. My thoughtful frown instantaneously turned to a toothy grin as I jumped on the couch, throwing the lid open to see what the savior dish was with. My favourite! I couldn't believe it! It must've been my lucky day!
I started stuffing my face immediately, but then my mind processed the answer to the question that had crossed my mind upon seeing the box – who left this for me? Mother and Father were out and the only remaining person in the house was my sister.
So what? Too bad she didn't eat anything else than a stinky sandwich a century old or so. I tried to assure myself that what she did was none of my business. But I was fighting a losing battle and I knew it… I couldn't win over my nagging conscience… I tried to annoy her, I hated her, I attempted with everything I could to make her hate me back, as should be… Yet she was still so nice to, so damn nice to me!
I sighed before I began my third slice. It was no use – I'd have to go shopping tomorrow for the two of us with my savings. The last thing I wanted was to be in her debt…
And so, time passed, and I graduated the fourth grade. My parents advised me I should apply to some special school that begins from grade five. I didn't do as much as flinch at the thought of leaving the house for three years. I was still a child, yes; my mother and father realized that very well. Don't think of them as heartless people. They did as well know how independent I was, and how much I detested my little sister. I think that and the fact they really wanted something great to become of me were the reasons they sent me away for those three years. After that time I would come back to Capsule Corporation anyway… hopefully as a better person.
The interesting part was that I had to leave on Bulma's birthday…
Not that I really cared. I never cared. I never gave her any gifts for her birthdays anyway. I sighed. Why was it different this year? What changed? Was it the fact that she had been trying harder than ever to get under my skin? Was it the fact that she actually succeeded that angered me so much? I didn't really care, honestly. But I felt… obliged in a strange way to give her a present, something not really valuable in money aspect but in sentimental anyway.
I was never the 'gift'-type of person. I never knew what the other could possibly want to possess or what not. And the fact that I had to find a gift for someone I loathe didn't really help me in the matter. I sighed in irritation. What would I ever do when there were no feelings of loathe even to drive me around in the other city?
I laid on my back on my own bed for one last night and stared up at the white ceiling. I've heard that mental hospitals have white ceilings and walls as well. White eases the eyes, they say. Well, it certainly didn't ease mine. I let out a snort and turned to the side with my back facing the door-frame now. I'd think about my 'duty' as a gift-giver after I took a little rest. It was going to be a long trip tomorrow…
The next day the whole family was gathered around the cab that was taking me to my new apartment in West City. Mother had pulled her beautiful wavy jet-black hair in a loose pony tail that did not do much than just keeping it out of her face as she cried for me. She didn't want the hair to ruin her make up further than the crying did. Father shed a tear as well but shook my hand politely as we said our good-byes, telling me to take it easy and to return ever better than before. I was speechless… The parents that I have always thought hated me the way I loathed my sister… they had cried for me… I felt a strong surge of guilt running through my entire being…
My little sister just stared at me from behind them. She probably did not dare hug me after all that I have told her about my feelings towards her, even though it was clear in her eyes she wanted desperately to cling to me. I felt like a monster right then… I scared her with that attitude of mine… But she deserved it, a little voice in my head called, assuring me about my actions so far towards her that I was beginning to seriously doubt. I looked away from her and got in the cab. All of my family waved at me, except for her. She was just staring at the ground guiltily, her fists clenched by her sides, as she had been for the whole time now. She did not lift her head even for a mere second…
And then, when the cab pulled out of the drive way, her eyes shot up with the speed of light and my eyes locked with hers for a meek moment. She saluted me with teary eyes, salty droplets cascading down her cheeks, and that was the last thing I saw of my house and family for a long time.
I sighed as I placed my back in the cushy upholstery of the car. I wondered with a breathless faint smirk how she'd react when she came back to her room and saw the package on her bed that I have deposited right before I exited the house…
Do note that their mother's hair is black. That should clear any misunderstandings.
I decided to write this fic almost anew, because I always thought of it as my greatest work, yet the shocking grammar mistakes were too much to take and even I couldn't bear the beginning of the first chapter… So I advise even the people who have read it before to give it a glance! You won't be sorry! This time, I will have a reason to be proud of this story! Have fun reading!