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It was at one of the Dragon Team’s monthly picnics, just a few months after the Tournament of Power, that Vegeta felt it. A number of little bursts of ki coming to life in the far distance, somewhere high above them.
“Vegeta?” Bulma questioned, noticing Vegeta's sudden tension. Bra’s tiny fingers tugged at a strand of her hair insistently, but she took no notice. “What is it, what’s going on?”
Vegeta’s eyes met Goku’s. At that distance it was unlikely that any of the other Dragon Team members would have been able to sense what they did.
“Is it an enemy,” 17 asked, coming to stand beside them. Vegeta remembered then the androids couldn’t sense ki.
Vegeta shook his head. “No.”
“We’re not sure,” Goku corrected. “It kinda feels like a lot of... people... have just been brought to life.”
Bulma frowned, immediately picking up on Goku’s uncharacteristic hesitation. “What do you mean by people ?”
Vegeta drew a deep breath. Let it go, with the foreboding sense that his entire world was about to change. “Saiyans. He means Saiyans.”
***
“Yes, you are correct.” Whis confirmed. “The Saiyan race of Universe 7 has been brought back to life a little over an hour ago, in Earth terms of time measurement.”
Vegeta’s mouth felt too heavy to move. Something felt like it was pressing down upon his lungs. Goku asked the question. “Who brought them back?”
Goku’s tone is curious, light, like they’re discussing another tournament. Perhaps he didn’t yet understand the implications of this. Perhaps he did, and he didn’t care. The latter was far more likely.
Whis studied his staff as if it held the answers, manner unaffected. “It appears our OmniKings enjoyed your and Vegeta’s performance at the Tournament of Power, as well as those of the Saiyans from Universe 6. Specifically, they admired your courage, greatly enjoyed your spirit, and the progress you made in the 48 minutes the Tournament ran. Enough that they decided to grant the Saiyans another attempt at life and growth.”
“So, for their own entertainment.” Vegeta was proud of how flat his voice came out.
Whis considered him, and smiled. “If you prefer to view it from that lens, Prince Vegeta, all living beings are entertainment for the gods.” His purple lips curved up as Vegeta scoffed. “Might I suggest you can adopt a more optimistic view and see this as an opportunity?”
“Opportunity for what?” Goku asked, even as Vegeta’s frown deepened.
“To begin again.”
***
Usually, when they Instant Teleported somewhere, the moment they reappear at their destination, Vegeta would be quick to drop or wrench his fingers from Goku’s. Often they would already be facing an enemy the moment their feet touch new soil.
This time, as the greens of Beerus’ planet were replaced by the barren landscape and reddish sky of new Planet Vegeta. Goku’s hands stayed warm in his.
Vegeta didn’t recall there being so much mist, though. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision.
Goku gave his hands a gentle squeeze and an even gentler smile. He carefully looked at Vegeta’s forehead rather than his eyes.
“You okay, Vegeta?”
“Why wouldn’t I be,” Vegeta scoffed. If his voice cracked on the last word, both of them decided not to notice.
***
There are difficult conversations ahead. Vegeta had no fear in facing them alone - he’d faced through much worse- but he was glad for Goku’s solid presence by his side.
***
For various reasons, hanging around the Dragon Team was one of the wiser decisions Vegeta had made in his life. One such reason was that it gave him ample practice for etiquette on how to speak to the people he’d killed in the past who had been brought back to life.
It didn’t make such conversations any less awkward, however.
“Prince Vegeta.”
Vegeta lifts his eyes and meets those of his former commander.
“Nappa.”
Nappa looked back at him with unreadable eyes. Unlike the last time they’d seen each other, when Nappa’s eyes had bugged out with utter terror and horror up as his prone form stared up at Vegeta from the ground. Vegeta remembered his own younger face twisting into a cruel smirk, laughing as he threw Nappa into the sky, laughing as he let out a burst of lightning that rendered the man into oblivion.
Vegeta wasn’t sure if the thing that was prickling in his gut was guilt. Logically, he knew he owed Nappa an apology. But that wasn’t the Saiyan’s way. What words would be enough anyway, to ask for forgiveness for such things? It implied forgiveness could be sought.
Nappa cuts into the time Vegeta is thinking.“Your eyes are different.”
Vegeta quirked an eyebrow. That was not exactly what he was expecting. “Care to elaborate?” he asked. The old Vegeta would have demanded, or outright scoffed at such a comment.
Nappa tilted his head, his hulking form towering over Vegeta as always. Vegeta got the sense that he was being scrutinised. “Have you found happiness, Prince Vegeta?”
Vegeta pondered this for a moment. Once he might have snapped at such an inane question. What use do Saiyans have for happiness? Our happiness lies in the battlefield!
But enough years had passed and enough tears shed for him to recognize that happiness wasn’t a triviality, but a right. “It’s not all bad,” Vegeta allowed. “This little mudball had their own surprises.”
The way Nappa’s lips quirk upward told him he heard what wasn’t said.
“It’s good to know you’ve been fighting well, my Prince. I’ve heard quite some stories.”
It wasn’t forgiveness, but it wasn’t hatred. Vegeta was happy to take it. When they part ways a little later, it felt like something in his chest had loosened.
Goku met him out afield. “How’d it go?”
Vegeta shrugged, not wanting to say much. “We’re both still alive,” he snarked.
He was rewarded by Goku beaming. “That’s great, Vegeta, I’m so proud of you!”
That was Goku’s ability, to pull meaning and clarity from the discord of things Vegeta wanted to say, but wouldn’t allow himself to.
Vegeta looked away. “I don’t need your pride, I’ve got my own,” he muttered. But as Goku laughed at him for the nonsensical retort, Vegeta had to acknowledge it was a fight to keep the smile off his lips.
***
Hair that proudly defied gravity, ensconced into the shape of a flame. Red highlights barely there, enough to make the uninformed eye believe it was a trick of the light. Sharp eyes perpetually narrowed, a severe gaze that spoke of judgment and pride.
Once upon a time, King Vegeta III had been all that Vegeta had wanted to look and be like.
Would I have made the same choices now, knowing what I knew then?
Vegeta hadn’t expected to reunite with his father again, but then it seemed the universe had a track record of proving him wrong.
“Father.” The Saiyan word fell from his tongue, strange with disuse. A salute with three fingers for the three prongs of the Vegeta house. Right fist over left heart. A tip from the beck, the greeting of noble class to the other.
“It please me to see you still observing Saiyan etiquette, son.”
Vegeta refrained from mentioning that this was the first time in over thirty years that he’d performed such a gesture. King Vegeta wouldn’t understand the Earth’s calculations of years, anyway. “I am the prince of all Saiyans. That remained even after each and every one of our people were obliterated, Father.”
King Vegeta inclined his head. His smile was more foreign than any of this was strange and how was it that after all these years it still had the power to make Vegeta feel warm? “You lay claim to many great deeds.”
Vegeta’s brows drew together. “How much did you see? How much do you know? You were dead for most of those years.”
“I do not remember much. Death felt like a dream I’ve only just woken up from,” King Vegeta answered. “But I saw enough to understand how strongly you held on to what little you knew of our principles.” The next words were laden with unmistakable pride. “How you became the next legendary. “Well done, son.”
How things evolve and change. “Super Saiyan is no longer an unattainable legend. There are levels beyond it, and I have come to believe there is no true limit to a Saiyan’s power.”
“Spoken like a true visionary and leader.” His father’s hand landed upon his shoulder, every bit the approving monarch, and Vegeta became aware of his heartbeat slamming against his ribcage. “Thank you, son, for avenging our race.”
King Vegeta’s red cape blew around him in gentle wisps carried by the wind. Vegeta remembered having to wear a similar cape as a child. Remembered hating it.
He also remembered how his father’s approval -this- was his one secret desire and dream. Once upon a time upon a cold and lonely ship full of enemies, this was the only thing he’d wished for.
Once upon a time was not now. It was time for some truths.
“Don’t mention it,” Vegeta said. King Vegeta opened his mouth, but- ”Really, don’t mention it.” His father frowned slightly at the very informal, very Earthling turn of phrase, and Vegeta would be ashamed but this was who he was now, a Saiyan of two planets. Earth had shaped him as much as Freeza’s base had, maybe even more than Planet Vegeta had.
The thought momentarily stunned Vegeta. So much that he almost missed his father’s next words.
“Tell me about your chosen companions,” King Vegeta requested. Vegeta followed his gaze toward where Nappa and Goku were.
“That is Kakarot, son of Bardock, am I correct?”
Goku was animatedly talking, his smile the patient one Goku recognised from years of watching him teach their children. Goku slid into his snakelike kata stance, and gestured for Nappa to follow. Nappa quirked one eyebrow, looking very amused.
It figured the two idiots would get along.
“Kakarot is an insufferable idiot with startling moments of genius.” Vegeta tried not to allow too much fondness to show in his smile. “He should never be underestimated on the battlefield.”
“He is a third class,” King Vegeta stated.
“He is.” Vegeta felt a confusing mixture of defensiveness and irritation, at who or what, he couldn’t tell. But King Vegeta’s tone has been more curious rather than indignant, so he fought to tamper it down. When uncertain, it was always best to stick with the truth. “He is also the first among us to have fully realised the legendary Super Saiyan state, and the levels beyond it.”
“First among -? There are more of you?”
“We both have sons.” Because Future Trunks and Trunks counted as two different people. Vegeta watched his father’s face carefully. “I have a daughter.”
Vegeta didn’t know his father well enough (did he ever?) to understand every emotion in those eyes, but he could still see the moment that the royal mask settled back into place.
“You have clearly made a life for yourself,” King Vegeta stated, finally. “I am… surprised, but it pleases me to hear.”
Vegeta squinted at him. King Vegeta looked greatly amused.
“We are more than destruction, son. I never managed to show you a life beyond the war.” King Vegeta’s eyes locked on where the two figures were now darting about each other. ”I am glad you found your own way to meaning.”
Goku was still in base form. Nappa appeared to be copying his movements. Prior to Planet Vegeta’s destruction, it would have been unheard of for a third class and a royally chosen General to mix.
Vegeta turned his full attention back to his father. “What next?”
It was King Vegeta’s turn to look ever so slightly wrong-footed. “Excuse me?”
“What are your plans for our revived race?” Vegeta asked. “We were a people built entirely around war and displacing others. Who were we before the Kolds enslaved us, father? Before we became our destroyers?”
“Saiyans have been driven by battle for generations-”
“-driven by battle, yes,” Vegeta interrupts. “I’ve come to realise that doesn’t necessarily entail violence, or genocide.”
King Vegeta looked perplexed. Vegeta understood his confusion - the weight of the terms he just used weren’t something Vegeta himself had considered significant, until after he’d met a certain orange-clad idiot.
“We Saiyans are no more than space pirates. When our planet was destroyed, a good many of the universe’s population were happy to see us disappear.”
“Saiyans have never cared about being hated-”
“-I don’t care about being hated,” Vegeta snapped. “I care about being better.” He thought of the Saiyans from Universe 6, how they served life in battle as defenders. Cabba ‘s pride a mirror of his own, possibly more justified. “In a universe that mirrors ours, we Saiyans were protectors of the weaker races, rather than the aggressors.”
“Mirror uni- never mind.” King Vegeta’s eyes went from shock to searching. “What is it that you ask of us, son?”
“I want the Saiyans to stop following the past and build a new future,” Vegeta said. “One where we live up to every bit of our honourable name and potential, rather than cower behind the shadows of our oppressors.”
“Will you ascend the throne and rule, then?”
Vegeta shook his head. “My place is with Earth. I will do more good being your bridge to the outside world.”
“I never thought of you as a diplomat, son.”
Veegta smiled wryly. “I didn't either, until a few days ago.”
***
“Let me get this straight,” Vegeta said slowly as he looked at Bulma. “You’re saying you want me to be the representative diplomat for Earth?”
“Yup!” Bulma grinned at him. “No one better.”
“And… have you considered my track record in diplomacy and peacemaking? In that I don’t have any?” Beside him, Goku chuckled.
“Yup, in not as many illustrative words.”
“This is ridiculous,” Vegeta said firmly. It didn’t help that he was in the presence of people who had spent long enough with him to find his fiercest scowl less of a threat and more of an endearment. I’m more likely to start a war than broker an agreement, and I probably won’t even realise I’m doing it. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Find someone else.”
Bulma sighed and rolled her eyes. “Who would you suggest? Goku?” Vegeta grimaced. Goku laughed at him a little more. “You’re probably the one with the best understanding of both people’s customs, and you’re a more known face in the universe-”
“You’re right woman, I have a big reputation in the intergalactic world, and most of it isn’t good.”
“Most?” Goku asked interestedly, because of course he would latch on to the good part. “How about the ‘not-most?’”
Vegeta glared, refusing to be distracted. “I’m a warrior prince, not a peacemaker-”
“Why can’t you be both?” Goku asked, the traitor, and Bulma agreed with him, and that was when Vegeta knew he’d lost.
***
The first roundtable intergalactic discussion did not go well.
Vegeta could feel the Arlian diplomat’s glare at him from the start of their discussion. Every time he spoke, every overture of decision he made, he could feel the insectoid’s hostility intensify.
Calmly finishing off his last sentence -Bulma would be proud- he turned to the Arlian’s direction. “Is there a problem, or something particularly interesting about my features? Seeing as you’ve been gazing at me very intently for almost this entire meeting.”
“Don’t you think it’s hypocritical for you to be here?”
“Of course it’s hypocritical,” Vegeta acknowledged. His honesty shocked the Arlian diplomat into silence. “I’m well aware of what it looks like. It doesn’t make it any less of the right thing to do. Nor,” his steeled his voice, “does it make me any less of the best person to do it.”
Vegeta had never understood the Earthling term ‘pindrop silence’ until then.
“I am your best shot at making this happen,” he told the group at large, a little bit of haughtiness returning, “and you know it, don’t you?”
“You presume so much,” the Arlian woman said finally, finding her voice. Vegeta didn’t drop his eyes. He’d stared down Frieza as a child, looked upon Gods who could wipe him with their little finger. This was just another battlefield.“You presume we would be willing to accept you, to offer your people forgiveness-”
“You don't have to forgive us-” You have a right not to , but he was just prideful enough that the words didn’t quite make it out of his mouth. “You don't have to forgive us,” he repeated, “but give my people a chance to change.”
My people.
Goku was smiling openly at him.The Arlian looked scornful, but she didn’t push further. “The road to recovery, and to do good, is not a linear process,” she said cryptically. “It would do you good to keep in mind, Prince.”
Vegeta was absolutely not interested in hearing anymore of this nonsense. “Do you have anything important to add to the issue at hand?” he asked, keeping a grip on his temper. When the Arlian indicated a negative response, he turned back to the others present. “LEt us adjourn.”
Through it all, Goku’s warm smile stayed constantly trained upon Vegeta. That alone made it almost worth all this hassle.
***
Almost was the keyword. The moment they’d ended the talks with the stupid silvertongues, Goku wordlessly held out his palm to Vegeta, and suddenly they had materialised on some godforsaken planet where no one would be able to bother them.
Vegeta let go of Goku’s hand and followed it up with a punch to his face. Goku easily caught the punch, grinning.
“You’re welcome,” he told Vegeta, and then they were at it.
There was no talking for the next hour, just the way Vegeta liked it. Vegeta lost himself in the familiar rhythm of it all: fist meeting fist, knee striking knee. Goku’s smirking face, lit first in gold then all the way to blue, cycling through all the stages of their Super Saiyan forms.
Much later, when they were both utterly wrecked and panting in the sandy ground of the planet, Goku heaved his body toward Vegeta with some effort.“Vegeta?”
Vegeta groaned. “No, Kakarot.”
“I didn’t even say anything yet,” Goku protested.
Vegeta snorted. “You didn’t have to. I already know I’m not going to like it.” Years of fighting against, then alongside, then with Goku meant he knew that tone well. It was the specific lilt to the light-hearted tone Goku adopted when he was going to ask something difficult. So readied himself. “What is it.”
“If it came down to a war between the Saiyans- and the Earth, which side would you choose?”
It was such an unexpected question that for a moment, Vegeta could only blink. “What-?”
Goku’s eyes were serious. “If it happened at some point in the future. Which side would you be on?”
They were both curled up on their side, facing each other by this point. Close enough that their fingers were almost brushing.
Vegeta stared. Narrowed his eyes. “Why, Kakarot?” His voice took on a sardonic edge, even as he knew better. “Is this your version of a threat? Am I-”
“NO.” Goku’s guileless eyes met his. “I want to figure it out in advance, so I know what to expect.”
The two Saiyans stared at each other for a few beats longer. Once, they had been on opposite sides of the battlefield. Once, they had been the last two saiyans alive. Once -
“It wouldn’t come to that,” Vegeta said. “I wouldn’t allow it.”
Goku nodded. “Okay.” His one good eye (Vegeta had gotten the other one nice and swelling) tracked the crescent moon above them. “We’ll make sure of that together.”
Veeta followed his gaze up towards the heavens. Something in his chest eased.