DB Multiverse

A familiar vibration roused the young thinker from his thoughts.

He was here! It was him, he was sure of it!

He soon was in the corridor and in the blink of an eye, he had his hand on the handle of the front door, and in the blink of an eye, his mother was behind him, preventing him from going any further.

“Where do you think you're going that fast? And don't lie, I know you can't have finished your exercices.”

The huge weight of the maternal world suddenly fell on the shoulders and the heart of the poor Gohan who can't help but sigh of weariness.

“Mom, please...”

Her son's resonant plea apparently had no effect on the tough-minded Chi-Chi who snapped:

“Please what? You won't be a great scholar if you go outside to fight as a yobbo!”

Gohan had no time to think more about the plea that he was about to oppose to the maternal defence that a muffled growl suddenly made the ground and the walls of the small house vibrate, as if they were shuddering.

The little boy seized the opportunity and disappeared so quickly that he wasn't here anymore when his words reached the ears of his surprised mother.

“I'm sorry mom... I have to see him!”

The fiery Chi-Chi didn't need anymore time to react. She immediately went after her son, screaming in a high pitched voice due to her hysteria.

“See what? GOHAAAAN! Come back here noooow!”

He wasn't that far, he was standing still just over there. She ran faster without taking a second to think about what may have stopped her son who had seemed to be in such an hurry. But soon enough she stopped running, just as he had done. And like her son, she stared at the figure who was emitting such a powerful ki and whose rage was shaking everything around them.

Vegeta! He was here, an anger was clearly boiling inside him, an anger he was having a hard time to contain. Vegeta was here at the still fresh tomb.

What was he doing here?

He had never come back to the little house since that so sad day, that day when he had silently waited, taciturn and hostile. Waited as all of them had, waited for the ineluctable, the unacceptable... before disappearing in the sky after the horrible news. Son Goku had died, stroke down by a mysterious sickness, and the one who liked to think of himself as his best enemy hadn't managed to hide his sorrow that well.

Fascinated by the living enigma that was this man in her eyes. That man for which her husband had a so strange friendship. Chi-Chi still had the reflex to go to her son to pose the trivial barrier of her delicate hands on the tense shoulders of the young boy.

No, she didn't understand, she had never been able to understand how her Goku could find anything likeable in that cruel and haughty being.

She looked down and stroked her son's thick hair, this boy who, actually, always spoke of him with affection, as if it was an old friend, a member of the family. Had they all forgotten why he had come to this planet? Forgotten the cruel conqueror, the merciless fighter who dreamt of nothing else but revenge and death?

She looked back to the warrior whose fists were clenched and whose teeth were gritted out of irritation, a lump of angriness that was making its way down to his own heart.

And Bulma? How could such a clever woman fell for the charm of such a cynical man? And what charm to begin with? How could one love resentment and negative feelings made flesh?

And yet, so it was! Bulma had apparently found the way to dig out an heart in a place where it seemed there was nothing but hatred. Son Gohan's mother had had the proof of it the day she had met all three of them in the shopping centre... Yes, all three! Mme Brief had been like a cat on a hot tin roof, for a change, Bulma had been beaming, and the baby! Such a lovely baby, pink,chubby and so full of life.

Even though Krilin had told them about the strange familiarity that was growing between the inventive scientist and the dark Prince that the former had kept under her roof, she hadn't wanted to believe it.

And this until the fantastic burst of laughter from Mrs Brief when Gohan had said, with the peculiar innocence that only children had, that the baby didn't look like Yamcha.

And he couldn't look like Yamcha: that little marvel was Vegeta's son!

It was incredible! That so cold monster had been able to let himself be loved! She had then looked closely at Bulma's face. No doubt about it, she was radiant with happiness. Could it mean that he had known how to be loving and tender?

Her woman instinct were telling her that yes, he had. Nothing but reciprocal love could make eyes glow with so much happiness.

Once again, she looked with lack of understanding at this living enigma whose increasing fury was shaking the surroundings each time a bit more.

As if they were infected by this rage, dark threatening clouds filled the skies whereas the wildlife frantically ran away in the woods shook by raging energy waves.

Chi-Chi's hands, her hands she had wanted to be reassuring and protective, were now clenching on Gohan's shoulder while her entire body shivered.

Compulsively, she brought her son closer to her, pressing him against her tense body, made nervous by fear, and she wrapped her shaking arms around her son.

Yes, fear was overwhelming her while Vegeta seemed to unleash both his and the skies' rage in the same long scream.

In a furious rumble, the storm suddenly broke. Gigantic lightning stroke the forest as a swift tear all the while a warm and strong rain brought down her thick curtain on the little glade.

The growl of the Prince of all Saiyan resounded, drowning out the noise of the flood, the dull sound of thunder and even the sharp clap of the lightning.

“WHY?”

The powerful burst of his distress had not the time to disappear that all the pressure that the warrior seemed to struggle to contain suddenly exploded.

A huge explosion of pure energy unsettled the young Saiyan, even though he was tensed by the show of all that incredible fury. A small body that was firmly anchored on the ground and of which Chi-Chi had managed to get hold. All around them, all the leaves were blown away by the powerful wind that bent the foliage and exploded the windows of the house behind them.

A wind that dug a deep round crater under Vegeta's feet, Vegeta whose figure suddenly blazed, illuminated by a magnificent golden aura, and surrounded by several small lightning, faster than will-o'-the-wisps.

The moment after, maybe because he had emptied all of his rage, Vegeta slowly lowered his head, letting his hands fall under the heavy rain whose pounding is drowned out by the sound of the strange beatings from his energy of Super Saiyan.

Then, he asked again, a mutter that was hardly audible, almost a moan.

“Why?”

And then, as if a lightning had struck him, he stood up and yell to the grave he's challenging.

“IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!!”

The fire that fuelled his distress had apparently left him, so he took off with a growl of rage and disappeared at amazing speed, letting nothing more than the trajectory of his flight, an ephemeral golden trail.