a story by Dot
This is the "prequel" to Nakaruru, and besides being a story that explains where Nakaruru's name came from, also does a little bit of speculation into Saiyajin politics. Inspired by Taku Azuma's Doujinshi "Dragon Ball Wild Dreams Overture" (Title very loosely translated) and a cheesy Chinese novel called "Plum Blossom Brand"--see end notes for further explanation.
Mind you, since the manga didn't say much about this matter, I am assuming that the Saiyajins had a thousand-something year empire, as opposed to the two-decade one in the anime continuity.
About two hundred years ago on Vegitasei, two babies were born on the same day. One, a girl, was born to the King in his stately palace; the other, a boy, was born to the poorest of the poor, in a slum not too far from the palace. Being born at such opposite extremes of the social ladder, neither ever dared to dream that fate had other ideas.
--Ten years later--
Of all the things that worried King Vegita, two were constantly on his mind. One, the Saiyajins had been in a state of war with the Haimien-jin for nearly five years now, but a clear-cut victory was nowhere in sight. The treasury was steadily draining, as well as manpower and supplies. If the army didn't make a decisive victory soon, it would only be a matter of time before the Saiyajin wore themselves out.
The second problem was a little bit more difficult to resolve: his daughter. Mind you, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her except for the fact that she was female. Even though the Princess--who would not be named until the official ceremony 6 months from now--was as competitive, fierce, and skilled as other high-classed children her age (and perhaps even more so), it would be completely unacceptable for a female to assume the throne of the Saiyajins. Females weren't worth the honor, glory, history, and prestige associated with the name "Vegita".
If only he had a son and not a daughter! But he could no more change her sex than he could make Vegitasei change its spin. Had he known that his mate carried a mere girl, he probably would have made some sort of 'accident' happen to her--the laws which had been passed down for generations prohibited him from actively terminating an innocent life. But his mate had died giving birth to his daughter, and he was loathe to see more death, even though the baby was female.
Why was I so weak? King Vegita wondered. I could have rid myself of her quietly and gotten myself a son...but I couldn't do it...
Because of his weakness, the throne would probably go to one of the other royal families--whichever one his daughter would be mated into. Unless...
Unless he could find himself another 'son'.
It would be extremely risky. But King Vegita was desperate and ambitious, and had a literal army of those who would do anything for him and keep their mouths shut about it. It wouldn't take too long for someone to find some nobody's child, make the necessary adjustments in the records, then bring him into the palace for proper training. A crazy idea, but one that just might work.
But...to deceive his people and to break the heart of his little girl...
What the hell am I thinking?!? I am the KING, dammit! I am free to do whatever I please!
With that thought, King Vegita called forth one of his grunts to begin the task.
Elsewhere, on the streets of Vegitasei's capitol, the young boy who was born on the same day as the Princess was trying to find himself a meal. He, too, had no name, but that was because those of the street were not expected to live long enough to need a name. He, like most others, was simply called "Boy" or "Hey, You", or the occasional unsavory insult. He didn't mind, though, as long as he could fill his stomach.
Sifting through some garbage, the young boy caught sight of a space pod lifting off. He always envied the soldier class: not only were they well fed, but they also got the chance to travel to other planets to fight. In the rare moments when he wasn't looking for food, trying to keep warm, or dodging the police, he would dream that he was one of the lucky few who served in King Vegita's army.
The boy heard footsteps coming his way and sighed. Not again... His feet, automatically set to run at approaching noise, began to move.
He was too late. The group of official-looking people had already spotted him and began chasing after him.
Crap! He tried running faster. But one little boy trying to get away from six or seven adults can never get very far. All too soon he was caught in the strong, firm arms of his pursuers.
"Let me go!" He screamed, thrashing and straining against their grasp.
"Quiet, boy," one of the soldiers ordered gruffly. Hearing the menace in the soldier's voice, the boy stopped struggling. The soldiers half-carried, half-dragged the boy towards the castle.
The boy soon found himself in what looked like a locker room where he was given a tag that he couldn't read and herded into a large arena with many other boys. Looking around, the boy saw that the others, too, wore ragged street clothing and sported tags like he did. A quick chat with some of them revealed that they had also been 'apprehended' for no apparent reason.
An official-looking person appeared in a balcony over the boys and began announcing something in a loud voice. The boy could only make out a few snatchings of the official's words over the noise of the crowd, but whatever it was, the proclamation got everyone very excited. The next thing he knew, the entire arena erupted into a war zone.
It was a complete free-for-all, but most boys clumped into groups where the strong ganged up on the weak. The boy himself was tackled from behind, and his survival instincts kicked in as he was drawn into the fray. Unconsciously baring his teeth, the boy lashed out at his attacker, pummeling him with punches and kicks. He was so charged with adrenaline that he hardly noticed the wounds he dealt or received as he fought his way through the others.
Then, all of a sudden, everything went quiet. The only thing that they boy could hear was his ragged breathing and his heart pounding in his ears. Something trickled into his eyes; the boy wiped it away with the back of his hand.
The boy took a step backwards, and let out a startled gasp when he stepped on something. Looking down, he saw that it was the body of another boy, mangled almost beyond recognition. In fact, the entire arena was littered with bodies of the dead and dying. Above him, various figures spoke to one another in hushed tones.
One of those on the balcony--King Vegita, the boy quickly realized--stood up. "Very good, boy. What's your name?"
The boy tried to speak, but only a croak escaped from his lips.
"Oh, well...it's not going to matter anyway. From now on, you will be my 'son'!"
For reasons he couldn't quite yet understand, the boy wanted very much to cry.
The Princess was, to put it lightly, absolutely furious. Just moments ago, it was announced that the long lost heir to some member of the royal family had been found, that King Vegita had adopted the heir as his own, and that she had been promised to this heir as a mate.
How dare he?!? The Princess thought angrily as she stormed through the castle. How dare he how dare he how dare he how dare he HOW DARE HE?!?
Even though she was only ten years old, she could tell that her father was always disappointed--or perhaps, ashamed--of her, no matter how well she did in everything. From eavesdropping on the servants, she knew that it was because she was a girl.
What's so wrong about being a girl?!? The princess seethed. This is so unfair!
She stomped into her room, slammed the door behind her, collapsed into bed, and began sobbing loudly.
Not even a hot bath, new clothes, and the first truly decent meal he had in his entire lifetime cheered the boy. He was still in shock from what had happened earlier. His guardians, understanding this, allowed him to explore the castle as a diversion.
In a near zombie-like state, the boy wandered through the castle, not knowing or caring where the strange people were leading him. As time passed, though, the boy found himself feeling increasingly bored, as there weren't many things in the castle that could interest a ten-year-old boy from the streets. So, once the opportunity presented itself, the boy slipped away and headed for what he hoped was the door.
As he walked, he heard a strange noise coming from one of the rooms.
Life on the streets had taught the boy that if he showed any signs of weakness such as crying, he would be vulnerable to the older teens. The sound of crying was not something the boy heard often during his short life, and definitely not the wrenching sobs that came from the door now. Without thinking, the boy put his hand on the door and began opening it slowly.
A young girl lay face down on the enormous bed, her shoulder-length hair obscuring her face. The boy felt a sense of familiarity to the girl, but he couldn't quite figure out where he had seen her before.
The girl must have sensed him, for she sat up with a start and stared at him. Jumping out of the bed, she wiped away her tears and assumed a battle stance. Assuming the worst, the boy braced himself.
Unexpectedly, the girl relaxed. "Oh," she said, in a bitter, condescending tone. "It's just you."
Then the boy remembered: this girl was the Princess! She had been at the King's side when the announcement was made. Even now, the boy could hardly believe that he was of royal birth, but as he thought it over, he realized that it was entirely possible since he had no idea who his parents were. The Princess had been less than enthusiastic about this news, especially when the King told her that she was to be the boy's mate someday. Currently, said Princess was glaring at him in the most uncomfortable way.
"Sorry..." The boy lowered his head a bit. "I heard someone crying, and I just followed the sound..."
The Princess flushed a bit, then regained her composure and crossed her arms. "Hmph!"
The boy understood by her body language that he was not welcome. "Um...see you later, I guess..."
"Leaving so soon?" The Princess asked sarcastically. "Well, good luck. You won't be able to take a step out of the castle with them around."
The boy blinked in confusion. "Them?" He repeated. "Who do you mean by this 'them'?"
Almost as soon as he asked that, the group that the boy thought he evaded burst through the door.
"Please don't run away like that again, Young Highness," one of them said.
"Now, come with us," another said. "You have very important things to do."
The boy darted a glance at the Princess; she looked like she was about to strangle all of the men...or worse. "O-okay."
Surviving in the street was nothing compared to the training the boy received. At times, he could have sworn that the sensei was out to kill him: each hour-long session ended with the boy near the brink of death. They would immerse him in a strange liquid to heal his wounds; the next day, the entire process would start all over again. He was never taught anything, just mercilessly pummeled until he could no longer move. The only thing worse than the daily thrashing was the lessons in reading, writing, history, and protocol during the morning.
He was waiting for the sensei to arrive for the next 'training' session when the Princess walked--no, marched--into the gravity room.
"I'm not in a good mood today," the Princess declared, striking her right fist into her left palm. "So I hope you don't mind me using you as a punching bag."
She sent a quick jab in the boy's direction. To his surprise, he managed to get out of the way before the hit connected.
The Princess, also surprised, raised an eyebrow. "Not bad. So you might have something in you, after all. But I bet they didn't teach you any real fighting skill, did they?"
The boy could only shake his head.
The Princess gave a derisive little snort. "Those macho jerks think that brute force is the only way to win. If that's so true, then we would have beaten the Haimienjin ages ago!"
The boy looked at the Princess. "Could you...teach me?"
"What?" The Princess feigned mock horror. "Your Highness wishes for lil' ol' me to be your sensei? I'm overwhelmed!"
"Really!" The boy insisted. More quietly, he added: "Please."
The Princess stared at the boy as if he had gone crazy. For a brief instant, the boy thought he saw sadness pass across her eyes. Then she smirked--an action that the boy could tell was well practiced--and crossed her arms.
"If you feel up to it, go to the room three doors down whenever they let you out." The Princess turned to leave. "If you don't show up, you can forget about me teaching you anything."
And then she was gone. A few moments later, the sensei came in, and the massacre began as usual.
The boy woke up floating in the tank of fluid he where always ended up after a fight with the sensei. Outside, two fuzzy figures engaged in quiet conversation.
"He's improved greatly," the first said.
"Yes," answered the second. "But he's still not as strong as--"
"Don't. She is his mate now."
A sigh. "And she had so much potential, too."
"Yes, quite a pity."
"I recall a certain time when she floored you in a few seconds."
"That was because I was careless. Besides, she's a girl. They're only good for one thing, and you know that."
Another sigh. "Maybe. But what if you're wrong?"
The first laughed. "That would be the day I eat my Scouter."
There was no reply. The second turned to look at the boy. "Ah. You are awake." There was a beep, and the liquid in the tank began to drain slowly. "Training for today is over. Feel free to practice on your own if you'd like."
"Just stay away from...her," the first added, handing the boy his clothes.
Oh, no! The boy thought. If they find out...
He had to find some way of making sure that no one walk in on him while he was 'practicing'. But how would he do it?
He got his answer when he came to the training room where the Princess had told him to go: pasted to the door was, complete with the royal seal of the King, a note.
"Private training room of His Majesty," the boy read slowly, furrowing his brow in concentration. "Keep out--or else!" He smiled, relief spreading across his face. Princess, you're a genius!'
The Princess was warming up when the boy entered the room. "It's about time you got here." She turned to face him and dropped into a defensive stance. "You ready to go?"
"Yeah." The boy got shifted slightly as well. "By the way, cool sign."
The Princess grinned. "Thanks. Anyway, let's get started."
The boy nodded, and attacked.
"Woah, woah, woah!" The Princess intercepted the boy's fist by catching his wrist. "Is this what you do against the sensei, too?"
"Yeah...what's wrong with it?"
"Nothing, except I could have twisted your arm off if I wanted to." The Princess tightened her grip to drive the point home. "You don't just barge into a battle! You're supposed to study your enemy and find his fighting style, then use that knowledge to your advantage!"
"Oh, yeah...now that you mention it, I think I remember hearing about it during class..."
"Good." The Princess let go of the boy's arm. "So now it's time to put that into practice!"
They began to spar again. This time, the boy stayed mostly on the defensive, concentrating his attention on watching the Princess' moves. Gradually, he was able to see a pattern.
Okay...block, block, dodge... Just as the boy was about to counter in anticipation of the next attack, the Princess unexpectedly changed direction and landed a light punch on his jaw.
"Hey!" The boy rubbed his jaw. "That hurt!"
"You expect me to just keep doing the same moves over and over again? Nobody's that stupid, you know."
"You didn't have to hit so hard..." The boy muttered under his breath as he launched himself into another attack.
The boy was not able to land even a single hit on the Princess the entire time; what made it even more frustrating was that the Princess always stayed barely out of his reach, silently taunting him to do a better job.
"You're getting distracted," the Princess noted as she dodged, blocked, and parried effortlessly. "If you really want to hit me that much, then focus!"
Something snapped within the boy. He jumped back, took a new stance, and emitted a low, ferocious growl.
The Princess smiled. "That's a bit more like it." She also shifted her stance. "Now I can finally be a little more serious."
The boy moved almost too quickly for the Princess to see. Fortunately, her other senses told her that he would be coming at her right side, and she managed to dodge a potentially crippling blow to the side.
"Hey!" The Princess yelled, jumping back. "I didn't say we were gonna try to kill each other!"
The boy only charged at her again.
The Princess' eyes widened. Shit! He really means it! She blocked a hit aimed at her stomach, and winced as her arm stung with pain. The more she tried to avoid him, though, the angrier he became, and the harder and faster the attacks came.
The Princess tried getting through to the boy again. "Stop it! This isn't funny any more!"
But there was no sign of playfulness in the boy's eyes. Only pure, unadulterated fury.
I'm gonna die, the Princess thought glumly. She lowered her arms and closed her eyes. Oh, well. Might as well get it over with now...
The next punch connected solidly with her face, sending her flying backward into the wall.
The feel of his fist actually hitting her and the sickeningly loud 'thud' with which she hit the wall brought the boy back to his senses.
What have I done? He stared at his hands. The dead bodies that lay upon the arena on that day flashed before his eyes. Oh dear God...
And then the Princess began to stir. "Ooh...ow ow ow ow ow ow..."
The boy went to her side immediately. "Are you OK?"
"You thought you could hurt me?" The Princess grimaced, betraying the extent of her injuries.
The boy could see an ugly bruise begin to form where he had hit the Princess. Blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth where it had split from the force of the blow. "I'm sorry...I--"
The Princess cut the boy off with a wave of her hand. "It was my fault. I wanted to get you mad." She chuckled. "I succeeded too well, didn't I?" She tried to move, but collapsed again. "Ow ow ow ow ow ow..."
Without thinking, the boy rushed forward to support the Princess. In too much pain and surprise to resist, the Princess allowed the boy to help her up without complaint. "I'm really sorry..."
"Forget it, okay?" The Princess forced a smile. "I'll live."
The boy wasn't quite convinced. "Let's go."
"What do you mean, 'let's go'? Where?"
"WHAT?!?" Despite her pain, the Princess managed to whap the boy on the head. "Hentai!"
The boy blushed to the root of his neck. "T-that's not what I meant!"
"What do you mean, then?!?"
"I just thought you'd like to lie down, that's all!"
"Well, thanks for your concern, Your Majesty--" Another wave of pain shot through the Princess' head, and both of them nearly toppled to the floor.
The boy's concern for the Princess kept him from thinking rationally. More specifically, it kept him from listening to the small part of his brain that screamed for him to not do anything stupid. "Will you just shut up and let me be nice to you?"
The Princess raised an amused eyebrow. "Is that a direct order?"
The boy managed a wilting glare almost worthy of the position he was supposed to fill.
The Princess lay in her bed, sighing blissfully as her aching body sank into the soft sheets. At the foot of the bed, the boy stood, waiting eagerly for some sign of approval.
The Princess almost laughed. "All right, Ouji-Sama, I'm in bed." She did her best to look mean, but her grin gave her true intent away. "Now, scram."
The boy, relieved to see that the Princess was back to her old self, complied quickly.
Not yet ready for sleep, the Princess turned her eyes to the ceiling. We must have looked so ridiculous while we were on the way here... She chuckled lightly. This kid is most definitely not Prince material.
Her expression grew thoughtful for a moment. She remembered the look on his face when he realized he actually hit her...
Then she smiled. But I like him that way.
The next morning, the Princess discovered the bruise on her jaw while washing herself.
"Ouch!" She winced as she traced the bruise lightly. "And multicolored, too. Wow. He really was ticked off." She gave her hair a few noncommittal passes with her brush. Looking at the results, the Princess frowned at her hateful, untamable hair, which would always be spilling over her shoulders.
Why can't I have nice, short hair? She wondered. Of course, she knew the answer: she was born with long hair, and she would die with it. Such was one of the inconveniences of a Saiyajin heritage.
Letting out a long-suffering sigh, the Princess set her brush down and headed off to the kitchen; breakfast was calling.
Around about the same time, the boy was learning that it wasn't a good idea (not for him, at least) to combine food and study. He was currently attempting both to fill his stomach with food and his brain with facts--and, it must be noted, failing miserably.
And yet, the boy's breakfast was disappearing at an alarmingly fast rate, even though he certainly wasn't eating very much of it. When he tried to find out who was filching his food, the thief evaded him.
A pancake vanished into thin air. The boy tried to stop it with his fork, but it only contacted against the now empty plate.
The boy now paid full attention to his rapidly dwindling food. He began to notice that the thief always took food off of a different plate each time.
"Watch the enemy's pattern..." the boy murmured to himself, remembering the Princess' words. "Hmm...so the next plate will be...gotcha!" The boy blinked with surprise when he found himself grabbing onto the Princess' wrist.
"Oops," the culprit grinned sheepishly.
"What's the big idea?" The boy demanded, failing miserably to look angry; the silly look on the Princess' face made it nearly impossible not to laugh.
"Well, since you weren't eating that much, thought I could help myself to some. What in the world are you reading, anyways?"
"Standing positions and seating arrangements of the King's court," the boy replied, showing the Princess the sheet of paper he had been attempting to figure out. "I've spent all morning reading it, but I still haven't been able to get all of the names down."
"Oh, that. Yeah, it could be a bit tough." The Princess grabbed a plate of fruit; taking an apple out of the plate, she placed it on the table. "All right, say this is the King. Then..." Using the other fruits, she laid out the diagram on the sheet almost perfectly. "See? Doesn't this make a lot more sense than those stupid symbols?"
"Yeah..." The boy smiled. "I just never really thought of the Minister of Defense as a banana before, though." He noticed something missing. "Wait a minute...what about the Queen?"
The Princess rolled her eyes. "She only gets to show up during ceremonies. After all..." She imitated the high-pitched, nasal voice of the teacher: "Women don't belong in politics."
"......" The boy decided to work on finishing his breakfast.
Time passed quickly: in what felt like a blink of an eye, nearly six months passed. As the official naming day neared, the boy noticed that security in and around the castle was increasingly tightened, but not in a way that restricted his freedom of movement much.
About a week before the ceremony, the boy found the Princess in her room, sitting at a desk, and writing on a piece of paper.
"What's up?" The boy asked, trying to get a good look at what the Princess was up to.
"Lucky little me gets to pick my own name for the ceremony next week, but none of the names I can think of sound that great."
The boy misunderstood the tired tone in the Princess' voice entirely. "Mind if I help?"
The Princess glared at the boy for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Go ahead." She pushed the paper towards the boy.
The boy picked it up and began scanning through the names. "How come none of these are Saiyajin names?"
"Because I want something unique, instead of just boring old 'Vegita'."
Again, the boy missed the obvious. "Yeah, that'd be neat. I wish I could pick my own name..."
The Princess crossed her arms. "So, are you helping or not?"
"Okay..." The boy scanned the list again. "Hmm..." He pointed to one of the names. "How about 'Nakaruru'? It sounds nice."
The Princess sounded out the name silently a few times. "Well...kinda..." she shrugged. "Why the heck not?"
A week later, the boy, after a carefully rehearsed 'sparring session' with the King, was bestowed the name Vegita by the power of the 'Glorious Saiyajin Empire'. Additionally, the Princess was formally pledged to the younger Vegita as a mate. No mention was made of the name that the Princess chose for herself.
"How come they didn't say anything about your name?" The recently crowned Prince Vegita asked after the ceremony ended.
"Because officially, I'm just your mate..." Nakaruru gave Vegita a menacing look. "But if you even think about calling me anything other than 'Nakaruru', you'll regret it!"
Vegita pretended to look scared. "Hai, hai..."
"What's the meaning of waking me up in the middle of the night and insisting to see me alone?" King Vegita, sitting on the throne in less than formal clothes, demanded angrily.
Potato, one of the high-ranking generals, bowed deeply. "My sincerest apologies, Your Majesty, but this is a matter of great importance."
King Vegita frowned. "Spit it out; I don't have all night."
Potato smiled mysteriously. "I've heard some interesting rumors, about your 'son' and his mate..."
Nakaruru felt real fear as she looked upon her father. Women were rarely allowed in the King's court, but here she was, summoned by the King's edict, to stand before the throne.
"Your unworthy daughter stands before You, Highness," Nakaruru said, her head low, reciting the standard protocol she thought she would never have to use. "What is Your bidding?"
King Vegita sat upon the throne, as impassive as a statue. "I've heard some...disturbing things about you. That you have stepped out of your place as the Prince's mate."
Nakaruru supressed a flinch. "Yes. It is true." She fell to one knee. "Please forgive me."
With her eyes fastened to the floor, she didn't see her father's expression soften a bit. "You are forgiven. However, because further interaction with the Prince would jeopardize the peace of this realm, you will not remain in this palace."
Nakaruru bit her lip to keep it from quivering. "Understood, Highness."
"Take whatever you want with you and report to the launching bay within two hours; your destination will be programmed into your spaceship." The King stood. "You are free to go."
Nakaruru rose and bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
If she hadn't been in such a hurry to leave, she might have heard the King whisper to himself, "What happened to the little girl who used to call me 'Papa'?"
Nakaruru managed to keep herself from exploding, throwing all of her energy into packing furiously instead. The tears didn't really start coming until Nakaruru finished and she realized the full impact of what was happening.
I'm going off to some other planet, away from everything and everyone I know...just because I'm a girl and I tried to be nice to that brat Prince! More tears streamed down her face. It's just so unfair! She wiped away her tears fiercely. No...no more crying, whining, or feeling sorry for myself about that. If I have to leave, I'll leave... she remembered something. But not without saying goodbye.
Vegita, entering the training room to warm up in anticipation of the sparring session he had with Nakaruru, caught sight of a note. He picked it up and read it.
It is with greatest regrets that I inform you of my departure. By the time you get this note, I will probably already be gone. I do not know when I will be able to see you again.
"What? No!" Vegita dropped the note and ran out of the training room as fast as his legs could carry him.
He couldn't find her anywhere, and even though he forced himself to keep looking for her, he knew deep in her heart that she really had left, and even though no one would tell him the reason, he already knew. Because Nakaruru was a female, and didn't "know her place".
Nakaruru was the only one who ever treated him normally--and sometimes even contemptuously. She was the only one he could really talk to and expect a (somewhat) straight answer. In other words, a friend.
But now she had been sent off somewhere indefinitely. Just because of a bunch of stupid, stiff-necked traditionalists.
Well, the Crown Prince of Vegitasei, and the inheritor of the vast Saiyajin Empire, was not going to stand such an indignity. Summoning all of his courage, Vegita stomped off to find someone who could tell him where his mate had gone.
This planet's not half bad... Nakaruru thought as she surveyed her surroundings. After getting over her initial homesickness, Nakaruru had settled rather comfortably. The environment of the planet to which she was sent wasn't that far from Vegitasei's...of course, it still wasn't quite the royal palace, but Nakaruru wasn't quite in the position to complain, either. I could almost live here for the rest of my life...almost.
Nakaruru suddenly found herself wondering how Prince Vegita was doing. She shook her head, hard. What am I thinking? Why should I be caring for him when he was the one that got me here?
Almost as soon as that thought passed her head, a servant breathlessly rushed in to announce that Prince Vegita was blessing the planet with his wonderful presence, and that all were to greet him. Especially his mate.
She's mad at me, Vegita thought as Nakaruru greeted him and exclaimed what a great honor it was to host him. He simply nodded back, and announced that he was retiring to the guest chambers and was not to be disturbed, fully counting on the hope that Nakaruru would disobey and knew how to get in without being spotted.
He wasn't disappointed. A few moments later, he heard the Princess crawl into the room through one of the large ventilation shafts.
"Glad to see that you haven't changed a bit, Nakaruru," he called, turning around to face her.
"How the hell did you find me?"
"Nice to see you again too. Anyway, I found out that basically, I'm the most powerful person in the entire Kingdom aside from your father. So I decided to use some of that power, and asked a few questions. Then, I told the King I wanted to go on vacation, 'borrowed' a ship, and here I am!"
"......" Nakaruru walked closer. "Why?"
Vegita grinned. "You're note said you didn't know when you could see me again, so I thought I'd better make that as soon as possible." He looked her straight in the eye for the first time. "You're mad at me, aren't you?"
"A little. More at the stupid 'guys are better than girls' thing. What is it with them and their superiority complex, anyways?"
Vegita shrugged. "Who knows?"
Nakaruru scowled. "I wasn't asking you." She sat down at the edge of the bed.
An awkward silence passed.
"Um...so..." Vegita nervously twiddled with his thumbs. "How have you been?"
"Not too bad. And you? Still getting beaten up by the sensei?"
"Sorta. I'm doing pretty good lately. I've even gotten a few hits in."
"Heh. I wish I coulda seen the look on his face when that happened."
Vegita chuckled. "I swear, if his jaw had gone any lower, it probably would have touched the ground."
"Aw man, now I really wish I could have seen the look on his face..." Nakaruru suddenly became very solemn and drew her knees up to her chest. "Everything's so different out here. They try to make it as close to home as possible, but it still isn't home..."
Vegita sat down next to Nakaruru. "I'll visit as much as I can, and I'll write, too, if I can do it without getting caught. If you can wait out the next couple years you'll eventually be recalled to the palace to actually...well, you know." Vegita almost died of shock when he saw a tear trickle down Nakaruru's face. "W-was it something I said?"
Nakaruru wiped the tear away awkwardly, but other tears soon replaced it. "Thank you. Thank you so much." The rest of her words were choked by her sobs.
Vegita almost died again of shock when Nakaruru collapsed into his arms.
Two hundred years passed. By then, another royal house had seized power, and King Vegita's decendants became the ruled instead of the rulers; the Haimien-jin had been defeated by Freeza, and the Saiyajins pledged themselves to this new employer; nearly all of the Saiyajin empire was sold off for money; there remained those who scratched out a bare-bones existence in poverty; technology had made it possible for the Saiyajin to choose the sex of their child; most Saiyajins still preferred males over females.
In the deepest dungeons of the Palace, a man condemned to die as a traitor was allowed to have one final visit from his mate.
"Do you hate me, Rubi?" The man asked.
"How could I, Aspa?" A tearful Rubi answered. "You are my mate. And you fought for the sake of our people."
Aspa reached out to caress his mate's hand. "Then you'll tell our daughter the truth? That Freeza is up to no good, and that she is also a descendant of one of the Vegita's?"
Rubi nodded vigorously.
Aspa pulled Rubi close. "It's almost time. After they kill me, they'll be sure to take our daughter away and feed her their lies. You must escape so that she will know what really happened."
Rubi nodded again, and whispered her love to her mate before the guard announced that her time was up.
First, they stole the throne. Then, they sold the Empire and the entire Saiyajin race. Next, they killed her husband. Rubi was not about to let them take her daughter. Cocking the gun she stole, she readied herself.
After hearing the report that an insane woman had attempted to storm the launching bay, King Vegita headed that way immeadiately. Upon reaching there, he asked: "Where's Aspa's mate?"
One of the guards pointed to the severely wounded woman that lay on the floor, heaving with effort as labor set in.
"You..." The woman gasped. "The Saiyajin race will perish because of you!" She let out a scream of agony as another contraction set in. King Vegita watched impassively as the woman gave birth.
"Take it into the sick area for stabilization," King Vegita ordered once of his men.
"No...I won't let you..." the woman watched helplessly as her child was taken away from her. She tried to stand, but the blood loss proved to be too much for her.
"You brought this onto yourself, woman," one of the men sneered.
The woman's breath was growing rapidly thinner. "Nakaruru..." she whispered. "Her name is Nakaruru..." With that, she closed her eyes and lay still.
So they still haven't forgotten their illustrious ancestry, have they? King Vegita thought to himself. Well, then, Nakaruru her name shall be...
End notes (gotta love these things :)
I came to the conclusion that the Saiyajins favored males out of three observations: 1) the highest ruling authority was a male, 2) a comment (made by Vegita, I think) that Saiyajin females were extremely rare and 3) a lack of reference to any of the Saiyajin's mothers. Besides, it made a good plot point, and is the basis for this story. ^^;
"Plum Blossom Brand" was a novel written by Qiong Yao, who could be considered the Danielle Steele of Chinese novels: most of her stories are about men and women who love each other but are prevented by society to be married. In "Plum", the wife of an official switches her newborn baby girl with a boy bought from a poor family in order to retain favor with her husband, who had just acquired a stunningly beautiful concubine. So that she would be able to find her daughter later on, the mother burned the image of a tiny plum blossom into the baby's shoulder, hence the title "Plum Blosson Brand". The baby was dumped into a river, but rescued by an old childless couple. About 30 years later, the official's "son" falls in love with the daughter when she is brought into the official's house as a servant. To make a long story short, the daughter eventually commits suicide, but not before she become tearfully reunited with her mother and being involved in a love triangle with the "son" and a daughter of the Emperor. (It wasn't that great of a story, more of a tearjerker. It was SO predictable, the entire story being told in flashback and all. But people liked Qiong Yao's stories so much that an entire TV series was made out of them...-_-;)
"Dragon Ball Wild Dreams Overture" is a series of doujinshi drawn by Taku Azuma (artist of the wonderful "Singing Voice of Holy Sea"). Stories range from the silly to the serious to the positively twisted (as in yaoi). One of the stories contained a flashback where little Vegita (I think) wins a tournament of some sort and King Vegita more or less adopts him. Even though I didn't quite understand that story, the flashback scene stayed in my head.
Vegita and Nakaruru may sound and act a little too mature for 10-year-olds, but I did that purposely because: 1) a year on Vegitasei is not necessarily a year on Earth, 2) Saiyajins (at least in my twisted little mind :) grow up quickly, and 3) I can't write "baby talk". Besides, you'll be surprised at what kids can say sometimes. And yes, their friendship is hinting at a much more recent one...^_~
I think I got this idea before reading Sarah's "Vega Series" fanfic, but I'm not sure. Her story most definitely inspired me to finally get this down on paper and finish it, though.
One last thing before I shut up: Do you recognize the name puns yet? If not, Rubi=Rhubarb and Aspa=Asparagus. (Yes, Nakaruru's parents have proper Saiyajin names. :)
Copyright 1998 by Dot
Questions? Comments? Suggestions?