Rage flamed inside of him. He pressed the wound until his blood ran down his arm. Rage and hatred for those little filthy boys and girls. Painfully, the wound burst open, the sharp splinter embedded there coming out. His lip curled. He could still see the faces of those kids laughing at him as they hurt him. His body still hurt where they had beat him. Tozai's smile haunted him. He had always though no one would dare touch him.
He was so small. He gritted his teeth as he rubbed the wound with alcohol. So stupidly small. If he was a bit taller, those kids would not have dared touch him.
He leaned back on the pillow closing his eyes. The window next to his bed let in the night air. What had that mattered before? Bigger opponents had fallen to his will. He was the best fighter in the palace. Being small had never stopped his skills. There is something else driving those street boy's bodies. Their energy levels had been ordinary. He put a cloth over the gash. He needs to stop thinking about these things.
The lights from other rooms in the castle danced on the wall as they came in through the window. He let his tired body rest on his bed. It felt warm and safe beneath him. He gritted his teeth. Reality hit him savagely. He was a prisoner! That was the difference between those boys in the street and him. He gripped the covers of the bed. * They train every day! Moulded to survive! In their bitter world, they learn things I will never be able to learn. There is no difference other wise. The need to survive makes them strong.* He released the covers, letting his eyes close again.
There was always some ceremony where he needed to be. As prince he had to be at countless of boring conferences. There was hardly any time to spend as he liked. He was so tired of being pampered by his teachers. He was sick of the ever lasting presence of his courtiers. He was tired of being a prisoner. Slowly, he was becoming what those boys had said he was. He snarled, tossing the alcohol bottle to a corner. * I am not a weak snob! That is a lie!*
The night air was cold. It made his wounds sting. He heard the trees sway in the night breeze. The world outside. Always outside his window.
"I was born to be the greatest Saiyan warrior," he said.
The air in his empty room answered back with silence.
"There is something in your head," the big warrior yelled at him. He delivered a high kick straight at the young prince's face. "It's blocking your excellent concentration!"
The prince ducked, the attack barely brushing him. Nappa caught his swinging leg, tossing him back towards the wall. The young prince landed on his feet, breathing heavily. He sprung to attack again. He was fast, dodging, as his trainer handled him several perfectly aimed attacks. His eyes held no sign of thoughts as he concentrated on the fight. His body had heeled completely from the heavy beating he had taken the day before.
"Not so-" Nappa said, catching a flying kick with his arms. " There is something in your mind"
The prince broke away from him, silently waiting for the big guy's next attack. He refused to talk watching the big guy's movements.
"You think I wouldn't be able to tell...?" Nappa was grinning as he launched at the little boy, only an insect next to his huge body. His huge arms gripped the little one's body, crushing it in their strength. "Well?"
Vejiita clasped his hands together, summoning his energy, his mind working out his attack. The blast will fry his tutor. That will teach him not to be so nosy. The prince smiled malevolently as he raised his palms, realizing his power.
He growled in pain as he felt Nappa's locked fists smash on his back, sending him crashing to the floor. The big guy had not even been touched. Nappa chuckled as the smoke cleared.
"Careless," he said.
Prince Vejiita lifted his body slowly from the floor. His back hurt terribly. He closed his eyes. His head was spinning. Tozai's face mocked him in the darkness. He felt the beatings of the boys. They were laughing at him. He was bleeding again. * Yamero!!* He snarled, blood spluttering into the floor.
"The lesson is over," he heard Nappa declare.
They were in his room. His back felt a lot better now, after Nappa had treated it. It would not take long to heel again. He had bathed and was wearing fresh clothes. He felt his trainer tense behind him. He did not turn to look at him. He could almost feel the big guy's disappointment.
"You want to what?" the big guy whispered, his voice even.
Vejiita shrugged at his disgusted tutor's feelings.
"You heard me," he said." this place is no longer to my satisfaction. Here, all my opponents are less than worthy. There are no real fighters here that can meet my needs."
"The streets are no place for the prince of Vejiita-sei" Nappa said.
"Who is anyone to say where I go?"
Both of then stood silent. The air grew heavy.
"You have met better warriors out there?" the big warrior asked.
The young prince drew away from his side. He walked to the window. He caught sight of the palace guards drilling in the courtyard. Their shiny armour sparkling in the evening sun.
"For years Nappa," he said, " I have looked at the city from this windows. I have wondered what lies behind those towers. What they do inside those buildings. What the grass is like beyond the courtyard. I've seen the people from here, wanting to be among them, but I never can. Those are not my people." He lifted his gaze to the red sky. " I am prince," he said, " My courtiers leave me no time for myself. The fools do not let me walk alone as I please."
"You are not an ordinary child," Nappa said, "you cannot expect to be like those in the city"
"I know Nappa," the prince said," I know"
His caretaker thought he heard something strange in the little one's voice. He stared at the little boy's face when he turned to look at him again.
"Let me go, Nappa," he said, "I am prince, but I am a child as much as any of those in the city"
Nappa reached to touch his shoulder, the young boy let himself be touched by his tutor. There was a familiarity in his touch. Nothing he'd call affection. The big guy is like a father to him. Only to this man would he ever ask permission from. This man was the only one he went to when he was tired, when he was hurt. He made sure that he always looks his best, trained him to be perfect, helped him take his first steps. No one in the palace held the big guy's place. He tried to shake off the words his soul was saying. Nappa was too old now, too slow. He had found a better warrior, a better challenge. He felt sad, yet his eyes betrayed nothing. The big warrior understood the things inside the little boy. He knew of the boy's pride, of the fire he felt consuming him, so like his father's, yet even stronger. Vejiita smelled the familiar scent of his trainer. He felt the big guy's affection what others call feelings.
Vejiita ran his palm across his eyes, brushing away the tears that ha silently welled there. His face was steady once more. His breath perfectly normal. Perfect decorum. The boy was a child, but he was old inside. The big tutor released his shoulder, chuckling. He knew this day had to come. Vejiita had been born to outbest anyone in their race.
"You show them what my little boy is made of," he said.
Vejiita looked up at his face. There was pride in the big guy's eyes. He grinned at him. There were so many things no one knew. Only both of them held those secrets in their close bond. He nodded. Their thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock on the door.
Prince Vejiita turned his head to regard the saluting guard that came in. He already knew what he had come to say.
"Denka," the guard said. " You are requested. His Majesty."
Nappa and Vejiita exchanged looks. The big guy nodded his head and bowed, rising his hand over his chest in respect. He watched as the young prince exited the room excorted by the guard. The young boy did not look back at him. He kept on walking following his destiny.
Nappa
felt a strange sensation in his throat.