Different Days

by scoutergreen

Saturday Evening

"Hey, mind if we discuss something really quick before they arrive?"

"Mm," a disinterested voice responded, far more concerned with getting ready than having a discussion.

"I know you've, well... had some issues with one of our guests in the past, but maybe we can use tonight as a way to move past it?"

A low, bored sigh. "I'll consider it."

"Please, don't start any fights... even if they try to needle you into reacting."

"No promises."

Krillin rubbed his temples and tried not to sigh audibly. "Eighteen... please don't get into a scrap with Vegeta. Please? I promised Bulma that you'd be civil, and she promised that Vegeta would be on his best behaviour."

Eighteen studied herself in the mirror, pleased with how she looked. She'd decided on a flared blue dress and powdery pink flat shoes, a simple strand of pearls around her neck, and small silver hoops in her ears.

"Oh, Krillin. I can't say no to such a polite request, can I?" She bent slightly at the knees to kiss her husband on the cheek and smoothed his short, dark hair.

Krillin allowed himself to sigh with relief and admired his wife's new outfit. "You look beautiful. Uhm, so I guess they'll be showing up any minute now..."

Vegeta and Bulma Briefs turned up at exactly 6:35 PM, just late enough for Bulma to consider their arrival fashionable, but still close enough to the time in the invitation to keep Vegeta from getting angry due to real or perceived tardiness.

It had been a little more than four years since the Cell Games, and both couples had been living their respective lives, striving for some kind of normalcy. Krillin had heard through Bulma that Vegeta had been struggling tremendously with depression, and he wasn't entirely sure what to expect when he answered the door.

When he laid eyes on Vegeta standing on his doorstep dressed in dark jeans, a white t-shirt and cognac blazer, Krillin bit his lower lip to stifle a shocked laugh. "Whoa, hey, Vegeta! Lookin' sharp!"

"Yeah, yeah," Vegeta crossed the threshold into the house, "Bulma's getting her dessert out of the back seat. She doesn't trust me to do it."

"Smart woman," Eighteen strolled into the front hall where Krillin and Vegeta stood and smirked, "hello, Vegeta."

"Mm," Vegeta acknowledged Eighteen by raising his head slightly and clicked his tongue, "hello, Eighteen."

Bulma entered the house, carrying a large silver tray of pastries. "I'm here, at last! You can't leave Vegeta alone with eclairs or fruit tarts- last time my Mom made some he decided to sneak down the stairs during the middle of the night and he a-"

"Bulma! Please!" Vegeta's face was bright red and he avoided everybody's eyes.

"Oh, right... well! Where can I set this, Eighteen?"

"Come with me," Eighteen eyed the embarrassed Saiyan and smirked, "let him collect himself..."

Vegeta rolled his eyes again and then locked his gaze on Krillin. He hadn't seen the human in a few years, and he didn't know what to make of the man with a full head of black hair. The short man wore khakis and a white linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

"Hi."

"So, long time no see, hm? What have you been up to?"

The Saiyan rolled his eyes and took a moment to look around the entrance and living room of the modest house. It not only looked impeccably clean, but it smelled clean too. No lingering notes of cigarette smoke nor the mouth-watering scent of gourmet cooking and fresh baking, two scents he'd actually grown attached to.

Finally, he replied, gaze fixed on a small Buddhist shrine in the corner of the living room: "not a hell of a lot."

Krillin nervously cleared his throat. "Uhm, we should go check out the barbeque and see if it's heated up yet. Hey, do you like ribs, Vegeta?"

The Saiyan shrugged in agreement and followed the man out to their modest backyard patio. Anything to get away from that robot and his wife, who had thoroughly embarrassed him despite knowing that it was one of the most surefire ways to trigger a negative reaction. He'd been married for a few years by that point and wouldn't trade it for the world, but some of his wife's behaviour bothered him.

"So, how's this so-called peaceful life treating you, human?" Vegeta sat in one of the sturdy woven chairs around the patio dining table and absentmindedly picked at his nails.

"Well Vegeta, you could say things are pretty great! My wife and I have a young daughter, oh, she's with a babysitter tonight, we needed a night off, and we bought this hou-" Krillin opened the barbeque lid and immediately noticed a serious lack of heat, "and my grill isn't hot, at all... despite turning it on twenty minutes ago..." the man knelt down to check the propane tank and groaned when he realized it was empty.

"Well, crap."

"What now?"

Krillin wasn't facing the Saiyan, but he could practically hear his signature eye-rolling and derision in his voice. It sent a chill down his spine and made him feel sick to his stomach. "Uhm... we're, well, I'm gonna have to the store and get some more propane. You can come along, if you want to."

"I think I have to," Vegeta rose from the chair and watched Krillin disconnect the fuel tank, "because the idea of being stuck here between my wife and your wife makes me want to tear my fucking hair out."

Nervous laughter spilled out of Krillin, ad he motioned for Vegeta to follow him back through the house with a slight tilt of his head and a forced smile.

On his way out to Krillin's waiting vehicle, Vegeta pulled a bottle of beer out of the refrigerator and kept moving, ignoring Bulma's rising voice and line of questioning.

"Go, go," Vegeta practically threw himself into the front passenger seat of Krillin's car, "before she gets outside and gives me shit."

Krillin sped away as per Vegeta's request, and only realized the contents of his passenger's drink after he'd popped the cap off.

"Hey, you're not supposed to drink alcohol in a car! What if we get stopped by the cops?"

Vegeta shrugged and took a long sip. "Then claim innocence and I'll deal with them, if you're so damn afraid of them."

Krillin realized there was no stopping the headstrong Saiyan. As they merged onto the freeway, Vegeta periodically sipped his beer and gazed out the window.

"What gives? I've seen you have a drink before... just not... sneaky drinking..." Krillin's voice drifted when he suddenly wondered if there was something seriously amiss with his passenger.

The Saiyan was actively watching for any sign of law enforcement and took a small sip. "Hmph. I'm not supposed to consume alcohol if I take these pills Doctor Sharma prescribed for me."

"Uhh, who is Doctor Sharma, and what kind of medication are you taking? You could make yourself really sick if you mix certain medications and alcohol."

"I'm not," another sip and the bottle was almost empty, "taking any pills, that is. Doctor Sharma is the head doctor at Capsule Corp's in-house medical team. I haven't been sleeping well lately. Worse than usual. Doctor Sharma prescribed these pills that are supposed to make you fall asleep and then stay asleep, but I stopped taking them after a week and a half."

"Why?"

Vegeta's face went red and he finished his beer, then tossed the bottle into the backseat area where it hit the empty fuel tank with a piercing clang. "You tell anybody about this and I will murder you, understood? The pills make me fall sleep, but they also make me do weird shit while I'm sleeping. One night I got out of bed and took a shower. In my sleep. Still wearing my night clothes. Then I went back to bed, sopping wet. A few nights later, I woke up in the middle of eating a sandwich while standing in the middle of my father-in-law's garage."

"Geez, Vegeta. Why haven't you told Bulma? Or your doctor?"

Vegeta shrugged. "I'll tell Doctor Sharma when I see her in a week or whatever it is. Both the doctor and my wife can learn of my decision to stop taking the pills at that time."

Krillin couldn't think of any way to respond to what Vegeta had just told him. One thing the human had learned about the Saiyan was that when he did speak about his personal life, there was always a great deal of information that could be extracted from what little he said out loud. Krillin knew that many people struggled with bouts of insomnia, including himself, but for Vegeta to admit that he'd been taking a prescribed drug in a bid to get some good sleep set off alarm bells in his head. Insomnia could be a symptom of major depression or other serious health issues, and considering it had taken five attempts to get Vegeta to come over with Bulma, it all almost sounded like an admission that he wasn't doing well.

It had been four years since Goku had sacrificed himself to defeat Cell, and everybody knew that the entire experience had devastated Vegeta. The Saiyan had grown very reclusive, and according to Bulma, he'd slid into a very deep depression. She never delved deep into her husband's issues, but she told those closest to her that there were times when she worried Vegeta would completely lose his will to live.

Several minutes passed in silence before Krillin worked up the nerve to probe a bit further into Vegeta's mental state in the most indirect way he knew possible: "how is your training going? You still use that incredible gravity chamber Bulma designed for you?"

The Saiyan sucked his teeth rather loudly and shook his head just once. "Why bother?"

"Well, it is good to get into a sort of maintainence program. Keep up what you worked so hard for, you know?"

Vegeta glanced over at Krillin and gave him a particularly chilling expression: his mouth hardened into a tight line and he narrowed his eyes, sharply exhaling through his nostrils as it all culminated with a dramatic raising of his sharp eyebrows and tipping of his chin. "So what are you doing, then?"

"Oh, well," Krillin signalled and glanced over his shoulder before merging into the exit, "I teach tai chi and qi gong at a nearby community centre a couple nights a week, run most mornings, have a gym membership... I keep busy and active, you know? I have to. If I don't, my mood really takes a dive because things just aren't the same without Goku. He and I have been best friends since we were kids... life is a lot harder with him gone."

Vegeta shifted in his seat and recognized a familiar collection of bright store signage. They must have been heading to one of the stores that specialized in home wares and camping supplies.

"You know," Vegeta felt a smirk creeping across his mouth as he began speaking, "you've always had very good form in battle. I like that about you- you're a good tactical fighter in spite of your pathetic power level."

"Oh, thanks..." Krillin felt like he'd been slapped in the face and grimaced as he brought the car to a stop.

"I mean it, baldi- right, you grew your hair out... you're not too bad at what you do. Come train with me sometime. I need a sparring partner who can hold their own. And you can show me this tai chi, I suppose."

"Uh, Vegeta, that's really nice and all bu-"

Vegeta slapped the dashboard and groaned with annoyance, "ugh, I won't break your bones or anything! I know how to be fucking reasonable, alright?!"

With considerable (and understandable) reluctance, Krillin began to agree to Vegeta's proposal when his phone rang. It was his wife, first wondering if things were fine, and then asking if the two men could pick up a pint of vanilla ice cream and a couple cloves of garlic. Krillin never expected Vegeta to actually offer to pick up the items, but with a grocery store directly across the parking lot from the large home ware store, it did make sense.

Twenty five minutes later, Krillin suppressed a laugh as Vegeta emerged from the grocery store with a large bag of groceries in one hand and a grilled sausage in a bun in the other. "Don't laugh at me," Vegeta muttered as he got back into the car, "I'm hungry. I haven't felt so hungry in months."

Vegeta was more focused on eating as they merged back onto the freeway. Five minutes later, after devouring his grilled treat (the smell made Krillin's stomach rumble) Vegeta cleared his throat and looked Krillin up and down, as though physically inspecting him for proof of any lies or deceit.

"So you agree to train with me, then?"

The sudden questioning from the Saiyan startled Krillin and he nearly shifted the transmission into second gear when he meant to downshift into fifth. "Uhh, I guess? Do you really wanna learn tai chi?"

"I may as well learn a new skill. As you say, you have to keep busy and active. Come over on Tuesday morning."

"Uhh... okay, Vegeta. I will."

Sausage devoured, Vegeta pulled open a bag of cheddar cheese popcorn and began munching. Krillin waited for the Saiyan to speak, but there were no words from Vegeta for several minutes.

Finally, mouth free for a few moments, he spoke: "and don't mention it at dinner," another mouthful of popcorn, "I'll tell Bulma myself when the time is right."

At half past ten, Bulma pulled out of the short driveway outside the small house Krillin and Eighteen shared, unlit cigarette clamped between her teeth. The dinner had been quite enjoyable, but neither Krillin nor Vegeta spoke about their spontaneous trip for the entire evening, and not knowing what had happened left Bulma feeling very aggravated.

"Just what the hell was that earlier this evening, running off like that?"

"We needed propane. Baldie forgot to fill his tank, the idiot..." Vegeta leaned back in the leather car seat and yawned, "besides, it seems like you and the fembot were busy enough without us around."

Bulma lit her cigarette before shifting into gear and proceeding down the street. "I can't believe you, Vegeta! And drinking? You know that Doctor Sharma specifically told you not to consume alcohol with the medication to help you sleep!"

"Eh, stopped taking those pills about a week ago."

Bulma's grip on the steering wheel went white-knuckled tight. "WHAT?!"

Vegeta shrugged. "Don't worry. I'm going to try tai chi as a new alternative. Doctor Sharma said I should "explore my options", the Saiyan derisively waved his hands, "she suggested things like yoga and tai chi and "meditation", whatever the fuck that is..."

"Tai chi? Seriously, Vegeta? You expect me to buy that?"

"I am quite serious," the Saiyan reached down to pick up the half-eaten bag of popcorn he'd purchased earlier in the evening, "baldie and I discussed it. He's coming over on Tuesday."

They drove in tense silence for several minutes. Bulma smoked her cigarette almost down to the butt and Vegeta munched away, thoughts drifting toward real hunger despite having just eaten.

"You gotta keep busy, after all," Vegeta broke the silence, "no point in mulling over shit I can't ever change."

Bulma felt a small smile forming on her face. It was a tiny step in the right direction; Bulma had learned to listen for little clues in her husband's words. She had learned that there was always more to what he did say, and with gentle and patient persistence he may just open up a bit more.

"Say," Bulma spoke up again as they pulled into the driveway, "do you want to go have a glass of wine out on the balcony? It's a gorgeous night..."

Another mouthful of popcorn. "Yeah, I would. We haven't done that in ages. How long has it been?"

"Far too long," Bulma turned the car engine off and smiled at her husband before snatching the bag of popcorn from his hands, "you go get the wine, and I'll meet you on the balcony."

"Hey! That's my popcorn," Vegeta moved to take his popcorn bag but Bulma pulled it out of reach, "give me that!"

The woman winked at Vegeta and ate a few kernels. "Maybe I want some too, cutie. Now, I'll see you upstairs," she exited the car and was quick to get out of the garage, "now go get the wine and meet me upstairs! And don't waste any time!"

With a genuinely amused chuckle, Vegeta got out of the car and walked to the kitchen. He didn't plan to drink any more alcohol, but he was happy to keep his wife's glass full if that's what she wanted. For the first time in years, it finally felt like things were moving again.

It was good to keep busy, he decided, I should make a point of staying that way.