Vegeta Muyo!
A DBZ/TM! crossover by Travis J. DeSantis
Episode 03 ~ No Need for an Honest Day's Work!
Vegeta's eye cracked open just after dawn, discreetly taking in reconnaissance before he openly revealed that he was awake. Judging by the low hanging sun, the prince realized that he must have slept the whole night. Since that was about twelve hours on this planet, that means he had been asleep about three times longer than he required. Vegeta swore. The device that girl--Washuu, his memory recalled--attached to his tail must have been doing something to slow down his internal clock, probably to make him easer to control.
"Oi, are you awake?" came a woman's voice from above him. Startled, the Saiyajin boy scrambled to his feet and turned, staring at Ryoko. Her head was sticking out of the wall. So much for not being snuck up on. "Washuu wants you downstairs," she grumbled. If her bloodshot eyes were any indication, the cyan-haired woman wasn't ready to be awake yet. She murmured something to herself and disappeared into the hard-wood paneling.
A moment later, Vegeta heard a scuffle in the room on the other side of the wall and Tenchi ran out. "RYOKO!" he screamed, practically flying into the lavatory across the hall, then slammed the door closed. "Why do you keep doing that!?" he cried from within. "Can't you at least wait until I'm awake!?"
Said space pirate floated out of the teen's room after him, cradling a pair of his sleeping trousers. She stopped at the closed door, though Vegeta didn't know why since she could probably just phase through it. "But you're so cute when you're sleeping!"
The Saiyajin dry-washed his face with a groan. [I'm trapped in a house full of idiots,] he thought, trying to ignore the couple. Vegeta straightened his fighting jacket and wrapped his tail around his waist. It wasn't a weakness for him like the lower-class warriors, but having one's tail mangled by one's foe is never a pleasant experience.
He walked around Ryoko, who was now pressed against the door and trying to coax Tenchi into letting her in, and made his way down the staircase, passing a storming Ayeka. The two women began their daily bickering and the prince was glad to escape being caught in the crossfire. Even the Saiyajin no Ouji could acknowledge the ferocity of the opposite sex. For some reason, Vegeta felt a small twinge of pity for his fellow male. Then it passed. It was a very small twinge.
Vegeta descended to the common room where he found Washuu, perched on the arm of the sofa. "That hedgehog- woman said you wanted to see me?" the prince said irritably.
"Be nice," Washuu chided. "I thought you might need a change of clothes."
The Saiyajin snorted. "I need only battle attire," he said pointedly. Indeed, the prince looked quite regal in his white and gold fighting jacket with its flowing crimson cape.
"Which is why you wouldn't want to soil it working in the fields, ne?" the girl replied.
"Nani!? The Saiyajin no Ouji is no mere farmer!!"
"Today you are," Washuu countered with a grin. She pressed a couple buttons on her computer, opening a subspace portal behind Vegeta. Several mechanical tentacles stretched out and dragged the struggling boy back in. Washuu didn't flinch once at the torrent of obscenities coming from the other side of the portal and whistled to herself casually. A few minutes later, the prince was spat back out in denim overalls and a black t-shirt. A loud ka-thunk from the front hall signaled another portal depositing a pair of boots in the foyer. "There, isn't that better?"
Vegeta growled, picking himself up off the floor. "Oh yes. You shall die _very_ slowly."
Now Tenchi descended the stairs, having escaped Ryoko for the moment. "Good morning, Washuu-chan, Vegeta- san."
The Saiyajin was about to retort to the contrary, but a look from the redhead stifled him. "That's...arguable," he said at last, having reconsidered his initial response.
Sasami was roused by the fight between her sister and the space pirate, asserting that if they had the energy to argue, then they'd have the energy to do the laundry. Tenchi went into the storage room to make sure everything was in order for the day's work. While Sasami started to prepare breakfast, Vegeta did his best to remain indiscreet. Although he couldn't catch her, the prince had the distinct feeling that Washuu was observing him closely. In an attempt to bore her and make her go away, the Saiyajin made a point of inspecting his new Earth-style clothes.
It didn't seem to be working.
Driven to boredom, the Saiyajin no Ouji sat down in the kitchen and leaned against the wall, appearing very irritable and aloof. This wasn't hard, for these traits came naturally to most nobles. But the cool breeze and warm sunshine coming through the open backdoor had a calming affect, causing his mind to wander.
Time flew by and the only thing that stood out in Vegeta's mind was the girl princess. Apparently enjoying the clear morning weather, Sasami was wearing a simple pink floral sun dress that complimented her eyes nicely. Her bare feet made a pit-pat sound on the linoleum floor, the two long ponytails trailing behind the girl's every move. She was humming some song or another.
"Vegeta-kun?" Sasami began, shaking the boy from his trance.
"What do you want?" he snarled.
"Could you peel those cucumbers for me, please?" she asked sweetly, unfazed by his coarse attitude.
Vegeta grumbled under his breath about the insult of having to perform such menial labor, but ultimately accepted the task for lack of anything better to do. The prince had traveled around enough to recognize a cucumber when he saw one and walked over to the bowl on the counter. He picked up one of the green vegetables and the knife, then paused.
Now, Vegeta's first instinct as a warrior was to immediately attack with his new weapon. But a cold-blooded mass- murderer he may be, the prince was also quite practical. Thus far, the blue-haired girl had done nothing to invoke his wrath. The real problem was...he had no idea how to properly peel a cucumber. The most cooking Vegeta had ever done was to ki blast a creature so it wasn't still bleeding while he ate it.
Sasami noticed his hesitation and giggled. "Here let me show you," she offered. The girl stepped down from her stool in front of the pot and reached for the knife.
Vegeta recoiled at the touch of Sasami's hand on his, startling her. "I know how to peel a damn cucumber!" he lied. Now forced to figure it out for himself, he gripped the knife handle tightly. The prince surmised that beings with a lesser constitution might prefer to not eat the tough, skin-like exterior of certain vegetables. That in mind, he just sheered off said dark green exterior and exchanged the now lime-colored cucumber for another.
"That's good," Sasami said, "but try not to slice off so much." The Juraian turned back to the simmering pot with a small grin, much to the Saiyajin's relief. For whatever reason, Sasami made him uneasy. Vegeta didn't like feeling uneasy, because that indicated weakness. And there's no way the Prince of the Saiyajin could possibly be weak! The minutes dragged on until at last, breakfast was ready.
Vegeta once again reluctantly joined everyone else around the table. To be honest, he was looking forward to having another of Sasami's meals and would have been quite content to eat quietly. But Ryoko, perhaps due to her argument with Ayeka earlier, wasn't feeling particularly benign that morning. As she floated by to her customary seat, she flicked the back of the prince's head with a finger.
"Mornin', gaki," she sneered.
*CRACK!*
Now, like most Saiyajin in enemy territory, Vegeta was coiled like a spring and ready to strike at any opportunity. But even so, the boy didn't even realize what he did until after Ryoko had smashed through the wall. He had just backhanded the space pirate without being electrocuted by Washuu's infernal collar.
"I should probably mention," Washuu began though a mouthful of rice, "that for his own safety, the collar will temporarily go on standby and allow Vegeta to defend himself. Should he be appropriately provoked, that is."
"Thanks for the warning," Ryoko groaned woozily. She staggered back into the room and eyed the boy warily, but said no more.
After breakfast, everyone went their separate ways to take care of their respective business for the day. For Vegeta, that meant his servitude--which was how he saw it--had officially begun.
Tenchi gathered some wood and tools from the shed and they got to work. The prince quickly grew impatient with the sawing and hammering and whatnot. He grabbed a board, snapped it in half, and pounded the nails in by hand. Efficient though it was, he was making a bit of a mess. However, Tenchi quickly offered guidance and the job went much smoother. They were finished well before noon, much earlier than the teen had hoped.
"Now it's still early in the year," Tenchi said as they stood in the carrot field a few minutes later. "Most of the carrots aren't quite ready for pulling yet, so we just have to remove any weeds." The older boy then showed his young assistant the difference between carrot leaves and weeds. They started on opposite sides of the field and fortunately, the distance between them wasn't enough to trigger the collar.
Although the prince was paying as much attention as he could muster for such a mundane lesson as weed identification, what he pulled out and what he didn't really boiled down to "does it look edible?" As such, he ended up pulling more than a few carrots, but he was careful to hide the evidence.
After the first two rows, Ryo-ohki bound out of some nearby bushes and hopped up to the Saiyajin with an expression of curiosity. Vegeta sneered and was about to stomp the cabbit when he recognized it as the furry lump that often adorned Sasami's head. With a shrug, he went back to work and ignored it. Ryo-ohki continued to follow him along the rows, her occasional "miya" grating on Vegeta's nerves.
"I was wondering when you'd show up, Ryo-ohki," Tenchi said when he finally met up with Vegeta in the middle of the field again. "Here, I got something for you."
Tenchi dangled a fresh carrot over the cabbit tantalizingly. Ryo-ohki jumped and caught it her mouth, her "miya" of thanks muffled by the orange tuber. The cabbit bound back across the field and towards the house with her tufted tail swishing happily in the air.
"Che. Hateful little thing," Vegeta muttered.
Tenchi coughed nervously. "Well, she can be a bit of a pest. But Ryo-ohki always means well," he added defensively.
"Perhaps," the boy replied, his tone unreadable. "Reminds me of a zalfur."
The older teen blinked, confused. "What's a zalfur?" he inquired with genuine interest. They were now walking back to the house to clean up. Tenchi was glad to be making small talk, seeing it as progress towards reforming the boy warrior.
"A small, ferocious rodent native to Kagewa-sei," Vegeta answered. He sounded like he was explaining something very simple to someone very ignorant. "They are imported as pets for Saiyajin infants when not sent on a purge assignment. Wrestling with it helps develop motor skills and survival instincts."
Tenchi tried not to take offense at the prince's condescending tone of voice. He also didn't want to think about what the boy meant by 'purge'. "Did you have any?"
"Three."
"Ah, oh." By now, the two were sufficiently cleansed of dirt and the tools had been put away. Tenchi picked up his bokken--having set it conveniently aside earlier--and closed the shed door. "Well, I have kenjutsu practice with jiichan now. I guess you can come and watch."
Silently, Vegeta followed Tenchi into the forest and up the many stone stairs to the Masaki Shrine. It was unimpressive to say the least, but there was a feel about the place that tingled the prince's senses. Something about this place seemed different than the Masaki home. It had a distinct odor he couldn't quite put his finger on...
"Jiichan!" Tenchi called, leaning on the stairs of Katsuhito's small house. "Jiichan, I'm ready for practice now! Jiichan!!"
"Hai hai!" came the old man's voice from within. He slid open the door and stepped out to glare at his grandson. "Young people these days need to learn some patience, I think." While Tenchi had the decency to look abashed, the shrine master eyed the teen's companion. "I see the prince has decided to join us today?"
"Not of my own volition," Vegeta responded irritably.
"Well, perhaps you will learn something all the same. I may not look it, but I know quite a bit about the art of war."
"I doubt there's much you could teach me, old man."
Tenchi looked between the two, befuddled. Elderly man and youthful boy alike had an aura of strength about them, their opposing spirits clashing in a battle the teen could not yet comprehend. At last, Katsuhito gave a small grin. Vegeta's brow twitched, but his posture relaxed ever so slightly and he followed without a word as the man lead his grandson out back to the training ground.
Staring into that man's eyes, Vegeta mused, was like staring into the very sun. He could almost feel the heat. Katsuhito didn't smell of decayed flesh and life-sustaining medicines like the elderly tend to. Vegeta was thankful for his own race's natural longevity whenever he encountered such people. This kind old fellow was definitely more than he appeared to be, that much the Saiyajin no Ouji could be sure.
Behind the shrine, Vegeta saw a patch of dirt in which many wooden pegs were buried, end up. Hanging from a branch over head was another peg on a long rope. Elsewhere, the boy noticed something he recognized. There was a wooden device with three levels of rotating arms. He once remembered seeing low-class warriors training with something similar, though made of sturdier metals of course. The practice of sparring with programmed Saibamen was implemented only recently. With a chuckle, the prince took a swat at the wooden arms and sent it spinning wildly.
"Vegeta-ouji," Katsuhito said in a loud, obvious voice. "I understand this all may be a novelty for you, but please try not to break anything. You are quite a bit stronger than us," he added with a smile.
The boy warrior nodded, amused by the elder's words and manner. For the first time since arriving on this backwater dirtball, Vegeta felt he finally found something worth sticking around for. He was curious to see if he could uncover the old man's secrets. The prince was interested in anything that had the possibility of helping him defeat Freeza.
Unfortunately, no such opportunities arose that afternoon. Vegeta almost fell asleep once, finding no interest in watching silly humans practice their stick-swinging. At last--at last!--dusk came. Though the prince felt as energetic as always, the hours of training had taken a toll on Tenchi. The lanky youth dripped with sweat and was practically dragging himself down the long flight of stone steps.
"It's been a while since jiichan pushed me that hard," Tenchi said at one point, trying to make conversation. "I had forgotten how demanding kenjutsu was." The teen laughed wearily, but Vegeta's lack of a response made him quickly shut up. For the rest of the walk, the only sound was that of a few eager crickets.
At Tenchi's insistance, Vegeta grudgingly joined him in the onsen for a bath. Saiyajin often went days, even weeks without so much as a cursory rinse. The prince made that point that Tenchi was the one all dirty and sweaty, not himself. But to no avail.
About the same time, Noboyuki had stepped--or rather, collapsed--into the house. The project supervisor had consented to giving the team half a day off and the exhausted patriarch decided to come home for a decent meal (for once). Sasami, a little put off by his odor, directed him immediately to the bathroom.
"So, did you have fun today, Vegeta-san?" Tenchi inquired cordially, after they were all cleaned up. The Saiyajin boy gave him a withering look and continued dressing. [You can't say I didn't try,] the older boy thought to himself with a sigh.
Tenchi opened the door just before his father and for once, Noboyuki got to see the inside of the onsen. It was breath-taking to the older man, for it held a natural beauty he never before had the opportunity to appreciate. Noboyuki's architect mind immediately analyzed and memorized the construction for use in future projects and would have pushed his son to inspect the onsen closer had he not noticed the young boy putting his clothes on.
Noboyuki's face immediately took on a dark, grave air that startled his son. "May I speak with you a moment, musuko?" he intoned dourly. The father wrapped his arm around Tenchi's shoulders and directed him into the hall. "I must say son, your kaasan would be very disappointed. All these beautiful girls in the house and you...iie, I should support you. It's your life after all, your choice."
Tenchi hastily waved his hands and shook his head furiously. "Oooohhh nononono!" he stammered. "It's not like that at all! That's Vegeta-san, he's uh...uh, Washuu-chan!"
"Son. Washuu is that strange little redheaded girl. _That_ is definitely a little boy. I thought you were old enough to know this already, but I guess we need to have a little chat. Boys have a doo-doo and girls have a hoo-hah. In Spring, they rub them together and--"
"Gyah!" Tenchi cried. "I don't mean _he's_ Washuu-chan! I meant he's Washuu-chan's new _experiment_!"
"Aaaahhh," Noboyuki nodded in understanding. He found this much more acceptable than the explanation his own mind had frabricated. "Heh heh! Sorry about that, son. Didn't doubt you for a second," he chuckled foolishly. "Now then, I could really use a nice relaxing bath in those hot spri--"
The man was cut off to find that Vegeta, having finished dressing, closed the door to the onsen behind him. The prince was a little surprised--and a bit disturbed--to find the older fellow hunched over before him, mouth hanging open in horror. "Nani?" he said.
Noboyuki grasped the wooden handle and yanked the door open again, only to find the simple tiled bathroom he was woefully accustomed to. Paradise had eluded him once again. The man fell to his knees, scratching at the door while moaning in a low, morose tone.
"Nani?" Vegeta repeated, irritated.
"Nanimo," Tenchi muttered, shaking his head. "Let's go have dinner."
