“Go, Son-kun!” a girl cheered from the bleachers as the dark-haired teen went to score another shot.
Piccolo blew his whistle, marking the end of the game. “That’s it!” he said, giving a warning look to the group of boys still trying to continue the game. “Son’s team wins.”
“Woo hoo!” Gokuu exclaimed, sharing high-fives with all of his team mates. Then he went to the losing team and started to shake their hands. “Good game, eh?”
“Sure, Son,” a boy said as he shook his hand. “It was loads of fun watching you get the ball nearly every time--we had no chance out there!”
Gokuu just scratched the back of his head and laughed. More of his team mates then came and surrounded him, chanting his name. Many people on the bleachers joined in as if Gokuu were a rock star. Bulma and Chichi were among the loudest.
“Son-kun sure knows how to play well,” Bulma commented to her loudly cheering friend.
“Of course,” Chichi said confidently. “He never loses in sports.”
“Sou da, sou da.”
Piccolo blew his whistle again. “Okay, everyone hit the showers!” he commanded, throwing his arms out toward the locker rooms.
Everyone who had been playing, along with the other students who had been sitting on the bleachers, began to move to the locker rooms. As if on cue to class ending, Yamcha entered the gym, yawning as though he had been in class. A vein began forming in Piccolo’s forehead.
“Skipping again??” the gym teacher growled.
“I wouldn’t call it skipping, “Yamcha said, shrugging, “I’d it call not wasting my time.”
“Grr…” Piccolo growled, clenching his fist. “Go to Kami-san’s office, right now!!”
Yamcha yawned again. “Okay, whatever,” he said, turning to go toward the principal’s office.
“Sometimes I hate this job…” Piccolo muttered, rubbing his temples.
“Who does Yamcha think he’s impressing?” Bulma said, frowning after she had seen and heard the whole episode.
“Obviously one person,” Chichi said behind her. “I seem to remember not too long ago, you were going on and on about how cool Yamcha was.”
“Urasai yo!” Bulma said, turning on her. “I told you never to bring that up again!”
“Don’t get mad at me because you dated the wrong guy,” Chichi said as she walked past her. She shook her head and went into the girls’ locker room.
“Oh, so now you think you’re an expert?” Bulma stormed angrily into the locker room after her.
“I’d never date a person like Yamcha,” Chichi said, nearly snootily.
Bulma strode up right next to her. “At least I have dated someone.”
“What did you say??”
“You heard me!”
At this point, the two girls engaged in a fierce staring battle, lighting sparking between them. The other girls in the room watched on pensively, wondering if they would have to call a teacher in soon. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence between the two friends, so all the girls knew what to expect out of them. Bulma and Chichi soon broke their battle and turned their backs to each other.
“What a silly thing to argue about…” Chichi said, starting to change out of her shorts.
“Hontou da,” Bulma agreed. She began spinning the combination to her locker. “I’ve broken up with Yamcha, and I don’t think of his as cool any more.” Her locker opened with a little click. “I should concentrate on nicer boys like Son-kun.”
Chichi pulled up the dark green skirt of her school uniform. “Hmph, everyone knows Gokuu doesn’t think of us any more than friends,” she remarked. She pulled off her shirt and put on her white blouse.
“You never know…”
Chichi turned back and frowned at the optimistic smile that had followed her comment. Just as Bulma was about to look at Chichi with this expression, her friend walked away from the direction opposite from her. The blue-haired teen lost her smile and watched with mild confusion Chichi leave.
“Attention class,” Kame said, somehow managing to have an authoritative manner while appareled in what seemed more suitable for a day out to the beach. “Today we have a new student from Saiya--can anyone tell me where that is located?”
The rows of students all looked terribly clueless to the whereabouts this country. Gokuu, however, was the only one sleeping during this time. No one around him bothered to wake him seeing as he did this on a regular basis in history class.
“Son-san,” Kame said, causing his student to snap his head up from his desk. “Can you tell us where Saiya is located?”
“Eto…” Gokuu said, fumbling around for an answer, “somewhere far from here?”
Kame sighed and shook his head. “I guess this should be expected from you…” he said. He soon got over his disappointment and continued with his introduction. “Class, I’d like you all to say hello to your new classmate, Vegita, prince of Saiya.”
“A prince?” Bulma remarked, quirking a thin eyebrow. “Why would a prince come here?”
As the murmurs of royalty in the class went on, a short, angry-looking teenager entered the classroom with his arms tightly crossed on his chest. He gave everyone such a contemptuous glare that none bothered to give him the traditional Dragonball High greeting. Everyone, excluding one enthusiastic student, looked at Vegita nervously.
“I thought a prince would be more…more…” Chichi couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“He’s certainly…short…” Bulma commented. “I wonder how his hair stays up like that…”
The only student brave enough to say anything was none other than DB High’s star sports player, Son Gokuu. “Welcome to our school, Vegita!” he said grinning shamelessly. “I’m Son Gokuu.”
“Hmph,” Vegita said, staring at the grinning fool. He looked to Kame. “Where do I sit?”
“Let’s see…” Kame said, scanning the rows. He viewed Gokuu waving his hand to indicate a seat empty behind him. “Ah, yes. Take the seat behind Son-kun.”
Vegita narrowed his eyes a little at the person he would have to sit behind and slowly made his way across the blue carpet to the seat he would have to now sit at. Chichi attempted a polite greeting to him as he passed Bulma and hers row, but the haughty prince stepped by as if she hadn’t said anything. Chichi and Bulma exchanged glances of disbelief.
“Well, that was rude,” Bulma said lowly.
Chichi waited until she saw Vegita sit down before facing the front again and replying to Bulma. “Hontou da,” she said, very insulted. “He’s not in Saiya, wherever that is, anymore, so he shouldn’t treat us as if were gum underneath his shoe.” She received a nod from her friend in confirmation.
Gokuu turned in his seat and extended his hand to Vegita. “Nice to meet you, Vegita!” he said amiably.
Vegita’s black eyes looked at his hand then back at his smiling face. His arms remained folded as he continued examining him. As Gokuu blinked and slowly retreated his hand, the prince from Saiya had a faint sense of deja vu.
“Kisama…” Vegita muttered, staring at him hard. “I know you…”
“Eh?” Gokuu put on his confused look again. “We’ve never met before today…”
“It’s possible,” Kame said, catching everyone’s attention. No one had known he was paying attention to the students conversation while he was writing notes on the chalkboard.
“Nani?” Gokuu asked, wide-eyed. “How?” Behind him Vegita waited for an explanation as well.
Kame set down a piece of chalk and dusted off his hands. “Gokuu, you do not originate from here,” the old man declared.
Some students gasped at the information and Gokuu’s eyes were beginning to look close to popping out their sockets. “I wasn’t born here?” he asked in amazement. “Where was I born?”
“Saiya,” Kame said, causing more surprise in the classroom.
Gokuu scratched his head. “So, Ojiisan and I moved here after I was born?” he guessed. “I wonder why he never told me…”
“That is because…Son Gohan is not your real grandfather.”
“Na-nani??”
Kame leaned against his cluttered desk. “Listen to what I am about to tell you, Gokuu,” he began, getting ready to tell him the whole story. Everyone in class, for once, was all ears in history class. “The day you were born, Son Gohan had made a trip that passed through the country of Saiya. While he was there, he witnessed a terrible crisis in which the country was nearly in ruins. He managed to find you next to a dead body, well protected and alive. Son Gohan did the only thing he could do, taking you back with him to his home here. He raised you as his grandson, never telling you the truth about your true identity.”
Gokuu mouth was wide open. “So…Ojiisan saved me…” he realized, finally closing his mouth. “Demo, I guess it doesn’t really matter where I’m from…”
Kame nodded and then tried to prevent some of his students from going on longer with this conversation. “Okay, today will talk about the Kings of the Ligo House…” he started to drone. “The first one was born in…”
“That’s it…” Vegita muttered above Gokuu’s head, “You’re Kakarotto.”
“Kakarotto?” Gokuu repeated. “My name is Son Gokuu.”
“Hmph, I remember reading the remnants of the birth records on Saiya not too long ago,” Vegita recalled. “Your name was under the list of the last person born in our country before it was destroyed.”
“It was destroyed?” Gokuu asked, turning to around in his seat. “Is that why you’re here?”
“That’s none of your concern,” Vegita said obscurely. “Besides, the destruction of Saiya was a long time ago.”
“Sou ka…”
“Gokuu!” Chichi whispered three seats down in his row. “If you don’t take notes, you’ll never pass the next test.”
“Demo, Chichi…” Gokuu said, smiling sheepishly, “Bulma always lets me copy her notes…” He looked to his intelligent friend to Chichi’s left who made a pitiful nod in agreement.
Chichi nearly fumed. “You’ll never get anywhere with an attitude like that!” she snapped.
“Demo…” Gokuu was beginning to perspire now.
“Is there a problem?” Kame asked, stopping his writing.
Gokuu shook his head with an embarrassed grin, while Chichi blushed and picked up her pen to continue her note-taking. Kame stared at them a moment before going back to face his chalkboard again. The newly-realized teen from Saiya then took that moment to catch up on his nap again. Vegita frowned at the lowered head in front of him.
Kakarotto… I can’t believe I actually found someone who survived other than Nappa and I. I wonder if there are any other Saiyajins alive I don’t know about. No matter; I’m not looking for any lost Saiyajins floating about.
The rest of the class, despite the very interesting news about Gokuu’s origins, dragged on with a huge lull.
“Yeah, lunch time!” Gokuu said, holding a tray stocked high with food. “This is my favorite class!”
“If you haven’t noticed,” Kuririn said, following him with a tray considerably stacked less, “this isn’t a class.”
“If it were, I’d surely get an ‘A,’” Gokuu said, waving to the lunch lady. “Konnichi wa, Lunch-san!”
“Konnichi wa, Gokuu-san,” the kindly woman greeted as she began to put pepper on the new batch of tuna salad. Some of it began to float about her nose.
“Abunai!” Gokuu shouted, taking some steps away from her. Kuririn did the same but took a few extra steps back.
By then Lunch had already sneezed, and the affable lady’s blue hair turned blonde and her good-nature turned into ill-natured. The two teens had already scattered by then, barely escaping the angry shouts and the barrage of kitchen utensils. However, Gokuu hadn’t taken well notice of where he was going.
THUD! Next thing Gokuu knew he had fallen hard onto the floor, his tray landing on his lap. Most of the food remained on it, surprisingly, but a good bit had gotten onto the floor. The constantly hungry boy didn’t pay as much attention to the person he had hit as he did to his food.
“Aw, man…” Gokuu moaned, debating whether to eat the food anyway.
“Son-san,” said a gruff voice above him. Gokuu blinked and looked up to three eyes. “Te-Ten-san!” the embarrassed student said, getting to his feet. “Go-gomen nasai!”
Tenshin Han smoothed out his suit and looked at him sternly. “Where are you going in such a rush?” he asked, watching him replace some of his fallen food back onto his tray.
“Um…” Gokuu said nervously. “Lunch-san sneezed…”
A nearly unnoticeable drop of sweat formed on the teacher’s bald head. “Okay, I’ll handle it,” Tenshin Han said, walking past him and Kuririn.
Gokuu nodded and got back on his feet and looked to his short friend. “I’m going to get another dessert, so you can go ahead and sit with the others,” he said, heading back toward the area where desserts were.
“All right,” Kuririn said, heading to the table where their friends were already gathered.
“Hey, where’s Gokuu going?” Bulma asked as Kuririn sat next to Yamcha.
“He needed another dessert,” Kuririn answered, lifting up his sandwich to take a bite of it.
“I’ll never understand why he eats so much,” Chichi said, daintily picking up her lunch with her chopsticks.
“Gokuu’s a strange kid,” Yamcha said, shaking his head. “Even in kindergarten.”
A bead of sweat rolled down the side of Kuririn’s head. “Aa,” he agreed. “Remember when he got rid of that Red Ribbon Gang all by himself?”
“Maybe it’s got something to do with him being from Saiya,” Bulma said, sipping her soda for a moment. “Maybe they’re all some kind of breed of super strength humans.”
“Come on,” Chichi said sourly. “You sound like one of those science fiction books you read. Gokuu’s a little…odd, but he’s no freak.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say--” Yamcha didn’t get to finish the sentence without getting an evil look from Chichi. He went off in a series of nervous laughs, well aware of what happened when you contradicted the fiery brunette.
“Yoshi,” Gokuu said as he finally had the right amount of food on his tray. He had learned well how to keep the food balanced on it unless someone ran into him.
Instinctively Gokuu veered in the direction of his friends’ usual table, but as he drew closer to one nearly empty table, the star sports player turned another direction. He viewed Vegita, with about as much food as he had, sitting at a table by himself. It never occurred to him that the prince might want to have kept it that way.
“Oi, Vegita,” Gokuu said, standing by his table. “How come you’re sitting here all alone?”
Vegita at first gazed at Gokuu with mere astonishment of his failure to comprehend his desire to be alone. Then it dawned on him that his fellow Saiyajin was a moron.
“Why would I want to sit with these…kinds of people?” There was no mistake of contempt in Vegita voice.
“Nani? What’s wrong with us?” Obviously Gokuu had missed the hint of arrogance.
“Just go away!” Vegita snapped, annoyed by his presence. Assuming Gokuu would now get the hint, he returned his attention back to eating.
“There’s no reason why you should eat alone,” Gokuu said, taking a seat next to him. He smiled at him as though they were old friends.
Vegita pulled his head up slowly, his face of mixture of disbelief and vexation. “Kakarotto!” he snarled. “What part of ‘go away’ don’t you understand?!?”
Gokuu nodded understandingly. “I get it.”
“Well, if you get it then--”
“You’re just afraid that people here won’t like you because you’re a prince,” Gokuu interrupted. He waved a hand. “Daijoubu; no one here cares about such a thing.”
“Grr!” Vegita finally reached his limit of tolerance. He picked up his tray and left the table haughtily. Gokuu called after him, but the great prince paid him no attention.
Gokuu watched him for a moment as Vegita left to eat outside of the cafeteria. “I wonder what that was about…” he murmured to himself.
Gokuu shook his head and picked up his tray again. He reached the table where his friends were waiting for his arrival. “Yo.”
“What were you doing, Gokuu?” Bulma immediately asked. “I saw you with that high-and-mighty prince.”
“Vegita seemed to not want to make friends with anyone,” Gokuu said with a tone that suggested it was a mystery to him.
“Well, he won’t have to worry about that with his attitude,” Chichi said with a “hmph”. Everyone but Gokuu agreed on that.
“I think he’s just not used to living here,” Gokuu said positively. “I bet after a few weeks, he’ll want to join us for lunch.”
“Yeah, and maybe I’ll grow six feet tall,” Kuririn said pessimistically.
“Or Yamcha will become an honor student and be awarded ‘most punctual’,” Bulma added.
“Oi!” Yamcha said resentfully. “I could be on time if I wanted to!”
“Sure,” Bulma said, folding her arms over her chest. That soon lead to a verbal battle between the two friends and a series of head shakes from Chichi and Kuririn. Gokuu however was lost in thought.
I don’t get it… I would have thought Vegita would have been more comfortable with a person actually born in the same country as him. I guess there’s a lot about Saiya that’s different from here. Hmm…maybe there’s some way I can convince Vegita that this place is a pretty nice place to live if you give it a chance. Yeah, I bet then he’ll be a whole lot friendlier.
Gokuu didn’t have much more time after that to think about the strange new student at Dragonball High as his friends sucked him into a conversation about sports and his past experience with gangs that seemed to always attack the school. Only Son Gokuu could effectively stuff down all the food he had stacked onto his tray and manage to still engage in the five’s normal discussion.
*Author's note: Okay, I have to admit that while I like the idea of this fanfic, it's really not written well. Still I'd just like to finish it, or get to a good point where I can't let it die in peace. Anyway, if you have suggestions or comments, don't hestitate to e-mail me! ^_^