Abandoned and Homeless - Written by Vegeta-Saiyajin-no-ouji

A young man, covered in dirt, grime, cuts and bruises, dug through the remains of old and mouldy materials, and decaying food and wrappers of all sorts. His legs hung out of a large dumpster in the ally where he had lived all of his life. Ever since he was 5 years old. He had taught himself to forage for food, even if it wasn’t in the best conditions. More often then not, he would go to bed not having anything to eat at all.

The city was large, and he was confined to a muddy little ally next to the bakery and an old building, which he lived in the crawl space of. Well it was more like a basement that nobody used. He had very few posessions, most of which had come from the dumpsters and rubbish bins in his ally. His clothes were tattered and torn and mud was stained into the fabric. All he had on was a pair of loose cotton pants, and a scrap of material that could hardly be called a shirt.

His hands pushed the rubbish out of the way, as he sorted through cartons, looking for something edible. There had to be something in here. All he had yesterday was a half eaten apple and a few mouthfulls from a nearly empty can of flat Coca Cola that he found in a bin. He was smeared with dirt and his feet were covered in cuts and bruises. He didn’t have any shoes. His hands were covered in cuts as well, he walked around like a gorilla. His mannerisms were like that of a gorilla as well. When he ate, his upper lip moved in that funny way. Instead of putting the food into his mouth, he would sniff it first and then use his lip to pull it in.

There. Finally he found something that looked promising. He might get something today after all. It was a polystyrene carton that was used to hold burgers. He took it out and dropped to the ground. He crouched down, and sat the carton on the ground in front of him. He licked his lips and his fingers wiggled in excitement. Burger cartons were probably the most promising thing for a very small snack. He opened the lid of the carton and looked inside. In there, was a half eaten cheeseburger, with maggots crawling in and out of the bun. He could smell the rancid scent they gave off. He quickly closed the lid and threw it back into the large dumpster. He sighed. At least Joe, the hot dog vendor out the front might have a few sausages to spare at the end of his shift.

A thin and scruffy female cat lept from behind a stack of old yellowing newspapers. It went over to the man, and started to rub itself on his leg, purring. He absentmindedly scratched it’s head while he thought. He picked up the cat and sat it on the newspapers. He walked through the muddy little puddles and over the grime on the ground, the mud squelching between his toes, as he went and sat down on a wooden crate near the entrance of the damp ally. It was his favourite place to sit. He brang his feet off the ground and rested his chin on his knees, wrapping his scrawny yet strong arms around them. It was getting colder now, it was nearly winter. He sadly looked out at all the people passing by. None of them even gave him a second glance. Well to be more accurate, none of them even took a first glance. They just ignored him and went about their busy lives.

He wasn’t surprised. Who would want to take time to care about some homeless guy whose abusive parents dumped him in an ally when he was 5 years old? They had more important things to do.

He had people from shelters come to him all the time trying to get him to go with them. One time he went with them, but ran away again, because he found that the rules at the shelter were very strict, and he could not express himself well. He preffered to be alone. But there was this one time he remembered. When he was young, he met a little blue-haired girl, who was not much younger than he, in the park across the street, crying. Apparently, the girl had her ice cream stolen by a bully. He found this bully and beat him up. Sadly, it was too late for the ice cream to be saved. Time passed and they became very good friends. Vegeta was 18, and Bulma was 16, when she found a boyfriend called Yamcha. She spent a lot of time with Yamcha, so she didn’t come to see him as much. Soon more time passed, and Bulma barely came to see him at all. Eventually she stopped coming altogether. She just forgot about him. The first time was the hardest. Vegeta remembered it all clearly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~FLASHBACK ~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He was so excited. Today was the day when he was finally going to see Bulma again. He walked over to the crossing, and crossed the road. He walked into the Greenview State Park. It was a nice day, the sun was shining and he walked over to the bench where he always met her. A few minutes passed, and he wondered where she was. She was probably just stuck in a meeting that went a bit over time.

The minutes turned into hours, and still no Bulma. ‘Just a bit longer…I know she is coming…She’d never forget me.’ He thought to himself.

As if on cue, there was a clap of thunder, and rain started to pelt down, the clouds turning a dark grey, as he came to the realization that she forgot him.

The rain continued to soak him in its thunderous glory, as a single tear rolled down his face.

She forgot…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~END FLASHBACK~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That memory hurt more than anything else in the world. Vegeta rubbed his itching eyes with what was left of his sleeves, they were prickling with unshed tears. He could smell the scent of the hot dogs Joe had in his cart. Maybe he could weasle one out of him before his shift was done. He looked around the corner. Nobody was coming. He jumped off the crate and went over to the vendor. “Pssst…Pssssst!! Joe!” Joe turned around. “Do you think I can get one now? I’m really hungry…” Joe sighed. “Sorry…You know I can’t do that. These are all for the paying customers.” He chuckled. “Pffft…Where are these paying customers then?” Joe looked around. “Fine. Just as long as my boss don’t find out…”

He leaned into the cart and pulled out a fresh hot dog. He put it in a bun and asked him what topping he wanted. Plain tomato sauce and mustard was his answer. “Here ya go buddy. You’re just lucky I’m a kind hearted guy.” “Thanks…” He smiled and ran back into his ally.

He sat back on the crate, and called over the cat, which he named Mushi . It was a black cat, with white on it’s paws, tummy and neck. It’s whiskers were also white, as well as the hair inside it’s ears.

He broke off a piece of the sausage, and fed it to the cat. The rest he ate himself. He licked off the bit of mustard that dropped on his hand. But he was still hungry. Mushi mewed. She was hungry too. “Sorry little one…I ain’t got no more food.” He patted her on the head. Mushi lept over to a puddle and lapped up some of the muddy water.

The young man looked up to the sky, praying that someday, someone would come and take him away from this miserable thing that he called a life.

~This was the life of a young man named Vegeta Kazama.~

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She typed away furiously at the computer. The report on her newest project was due the next day, and she was swamped with work. She clicked on the button and saved the work, and then turned off the machine. She got up and massaged her tired shoulders, and then fell onto her nearby bed. “Nnnnggggghh…” She groaned. She was up most of the night working. Maybe a nice hot bath would do the trick to loosen her tired , overworked muscles.

She managed to get up after lying on her bed for a few more minutes, and went into the bathroom. She stripped down to nothing while the hot bath water ran, and filled the large tub. When it was filled, and the bubblebath was put in, making the water foamy, she got in, and sunk down until the water reached her chin.

She stayed here longer this time. Just relaxing. Her eyes were closed, and she had a smile on her face, as the stress of all the work and late nights just seemed to wash away.

When the water started to get a bit chilly, she got out, drained the tub, and wrapped a towel around her body, and got another one to dry her hair with. She hummed a little tune to herself, as she toweled off.

The woman looked into the mirror over the sink. Damn. She looked awful. Her eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark bags under them. “Damn stupid reports…stupid project…grrrrrr…” She grumbled to herself. She grabbed a brush, and started to brush her hair, getting all the tangles out. Then she brushed her teeth, and went back out into her spacious room. She walked over to the cupboard, and sorted through a bunch of clothes, finally deciding on a white tank top that showed her stomach, a pair of baggy blue jeans and black combat boots to top it off. She took out a necklace that her boyfriend bought her for her last birthday, from a little jewellery box, and fastened it around her neck.

She sighed. Lately, things were getting a bit rocky between the couple. He was cancelling dates. And sometimes he reeked of other womens perfume. But she wouldn’t let this bring her down, she had more important things to worry about. Today, she had finally wracked up enough nerve to get her navel pierced. She was thinking about getting a big diamond set in pure silver. After all, diamonds are a girl best friend.

She trudged down the stairs and grabbed a banana from the bowl on the table. “HEY MUM!! I’M GOING TO GET THE PIERCING DONE NOW!!!” She screamed. She heard a faint, “Okay honey!” in reply, then munching on the banana, she grabbed her keys and her capsules, and proceeded to the driveway, where she popped on of the capsules open, and there stood a shiny, new, silver Mercedes convertible.

She got in the car and drove down to the outskirts of the city, where the only good piercing place that she trusted was. Her cousin owned the place and did the piercings. Unfortunatly, the place was in the…to put it nicely, poorer side of town, where a lot of industrial building were, and lots of thugs, drug addicts and other random weirdos liked to hand out. She used to come here a lot when she was little, and when it was not so bad because there was a park across the street where she used to play with her friends. Well, more like friend. There was only one little boy that she used to hang out with. Everyone else at her school just made fun of her, because they thought she was a rich, and spoilt little snob. Nobody wanted to play with her, she was always excluded, from games and things, until she met this little boy.

He didn’t care that she was rich. He was a little orphan and lived on the street. Bulma could barely remember what he looked like, except for one feature. His hair. It swept upwards, like a black flame, defying all laws of gravity. And he didn’t even use gel. Not that he was able to afford it anyway. He saved, or tried to save her from a bully. Okay, so it was the ice cream he tried to save, but he did show the bully a lesson. He beat him up. Even though he was seriously lacking in the weight department, he beat the other guy into the ground. That boy was extremely strong for a scrawny little orphan.

She wondered what he would look like now. He was probably dead by now anyway. Nobody lived very long on the streets. She kinda felt a bit sad. She remembered that when she was a teenager, she saw less and less of him. Then she never saw any of him because of her new boyfriend. She just forgot to go.

A quick memory flashed by of the first time she never showed up. She was supposed to meet him in the park at the bench like she usually did. But she never went. Now the young woman felt really bad. Now she felt like she was acting like her boyfriend acted. Hell. She couldn’t even remember the boy’s name! For all she knew, that little boy could have died a few days after she stopped going to visit him.

She pulled her car into a free space a few metres away from the bakery. She had to park it here, because there were no parking spaces down further. She decided to leave her car decapsulized just in case she needed a quick getaway. She wasn’t worried about leaving it out in the open. Her father had made modifications so that it was protected from car-jackers and other types of criminals. She got out of the car, locking it, then started a quick walk down the street.

She smelt a wonderous smell, coming from the bakery. It was pies. Seeing as she missed out on breakfast, she decided to go in and get a pie.

She came out with a big meat pie with tomato sauce. She walked past an ally, when all of a sudden, a big Doberman jumped out from nowhere, and snatched the pie out of her hand. Amazingly, it didn’t bite her hand off as well. “ARRRGGG!! GOD DAMMIT!!” She screamed to the sky. “That was a really good pie!!” The enraged lady chased after the dog, who had ran into the muddy ally. It slowed down near the end, and pushed through a flap in the side of a building. It looked like a basement window. ‘Hmmm…I wonder what’s in there…’

She poked her head in the flap, careful not to get her clothes dirty with all the mud. Inside, she saw a man with spikey black hair, wearing nothing more than rags, sitting on the cold concrete floor. He was covered in dirt and grime, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. No way she’d ever be caught looking like that. Although, when she came out of the lab after working with things with oil, she didn’t look too flash herself.

Something about this man was strangely familiar. But her brain stopped thinking and told her ears to listen when the man started speaking to the dog.

“Hey boy. What did you get? A pie? This is still a bit wrapped up and eaten. You didn’t steal it did you Shinigami? We may have nothing to eat, but that’s no reson to steal.” Vegeta scolded. Shinigami looked sorry. He went over to a corner, and curled up in it.

Vegeta put the pie down on the floor, and sat there staring at it. “I can’t exactly give it back. A hot pie…I wanted one of these for so long. The bakery toments me with it’s wonderous smells.” Vegeta growled to himself and then sighed.

Bulma pulled her head out of the room after witnessing that sad sight. She stood up and brushed her pants off. She never realized how lucky she had it until now. She decided to let him have the pie. He looked as if he could use it. That guy was as skinny as a rake.

She turned around, and noticed a whole heap of scribble on the wall near an old box of aerosol paint cans. It seemed to be written in chalk, or something similar. When she got closer, she saw that it wasn’t scribble at all, but complex, mathmatical equations. This was stuff that she could barely keep up with. Even her father had a bit of trouble with it. At an even closer look, she could see there were no smudges, indicating that something had been erased. Whoever did this was some kind of genius. She suspected it was that man she just saw.

This mathmatical genius, was also a very dedicated artist. For the first time, she noticed that the walls of the ally were covered in pictures of all sorts, some depicting stories, and others seemed to make no sense at all. There was a bit of writing in another language, done with the red spray paint over the top of a lot of things. Everything was drawn in spray paint. Some people would call it graffiti, while others would call it art. The best part about it, was that it was all done freehand, as you could see the edges were fuzzy, showing that no template had been used. It was a shame that his talents were confined to this dark and wet little ally. The woman decided to herself that she had better get going, as she would be late.

~*~*~*~

30 minutes later, she was back in her car, with a nice big, diamond set in pure silver as her navel piercing. It really went with her current outfit well. She started the ignition, and sped off, forgeting completely about the man she saw before.