Dragonball: Rewritten

Chapter 6

Vegeta knew this was bound to happen. He was Raditz's little brother, after all. Kakarot was due for puberty. The problem was that Kakarot had no idea how old he actually was—maybe 15, maybe older, maybe younger—so Vegeta wasn't sure when it would happen. But then Kami and Mr. Popo celebrated his birthday in a month called April, and Vegeta took note of how old Kakarot was supposedly: 16. The age of puberty for every Saiyan.

As the weeks went by post-birthday, he monitored Kakarot from afar. He learned the Earth calendar system and checked off the days instead of the sols in his head, waiting for when the first sign of Kakarot's puberty. When he himself turned 16 ages—years, here on Earth—Nappa was the one who guided him through the tumultuous time of his life. While his scent did change to signal his puberty arriving, Nappa told him later on that he knew much earlier for one reason alone: his increasing, dying thirst for deadly combat, without regard for his own physical health. Apparently, the King suffered the same kind of affliction growing up, and he warned Nappa about this possibly happening to either of his sons.

The probability of Kakarot enduring the same affliction was zero. Vegeta had been around the Saiyan long enough to know he was a true child of Soli—too sweet and forgiving, too kind and merciful—to have that kind of sadistic, reckless streak in him. What worked in Vegeta's favor was the fact that he had his excellent olfactory senses. The moment Kakarot's scent changed, Vegeta would know what to do.

He'd stay the hell away from him, force Kakarot to sleep in his own room finally, not with him anymore, only interact with him should he desire a spar, and that was it.

He couldn't do anything more than that. Kakarot broke through so many of his walls, to the point where he mentally considered him a friend, and ignored whatever other feelings popped up here and there. Especially when Kakarot smiled at him, or looked up at him with those big eyes, or praised him like no one else could, stroking his ego and boosting his confidence at the same time, because Kakarot truly believed he was the best and that he could do anything. It was positively addicting. How could he resist that praise and blind belief in himself, as if he was a god on Earth to Kakarot?

But there was no chance he would guide Kakarot through this period of his life like Nappa did. Absolutely no chance. Kakarot would go through this phase of his life alone and handle it like a strong Saiyan would, regardless of the fact that Vegeta himself had help. Kakarot had to toughen up anyway.

That all went to hell one day, a year and a month after arriving on this planet, when Kakarot told him after working on his ki techniques with Mr. Popo, "I'm scared, Prince Vegeta."

His brain screamed, Oh no. His guts yelled, Danger, run away.

He took in Kakarot's terrified look, and he asked, "What of?"

Kakarot's tail hung limp behind him, his gaze drifting down to the floor. His hands wrung together, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth.

Vegeta almost missed Kakarot's whisper. "Me."

He sniffed the air for a brief moment. No change to Kakarot's scent. Something else must've spooked Kakarot to tell him this. His brain told him, Ignore it. Not your problem. His guts agreed.

Kakarot broke the silence first, muttering, "Nevermind. I'm sorry." He shook his head, turning away. "I'll see ya later."

His body moved before his brain caught up to the action, his hand grasping Kakarot's wrist, keeping him in place.

What in Tor's name am I doing? He froze, panic rising, suffocating his lungs. What am I even thinking?

All the doubts disappeared when Kakarot turned back to him with a shy, scared smile on his face. Scared, and hopeful.