Moments before, a young man wearing a red Chinese shirt, black pants and his black hair in a pigtail had fallen into one of the Jusenkyo's cursed springs.
Now, hovering above said spring, a crackling blue aura of power surrounding him, was a rather different man.
Gone was the old outfit, replaced by a set of white/yellow armour, worn over a blue bodysuit. White gloves and boots covered his extremeties. In terms of physique, he hadn't changed overly much, other than the formerly pigtailed hair was now much shorter and sticking straight up.
The most significant change, however, was perhaps one of the most subtle: the boy who had fallen into the spring was a martial artist. The young man who'd come out was a warrior.
The young man smirked nastily at his father. He was aware that the old man was, at least in part, responsible for his transformation, and the power that was now flowing through his body.
Of course, he ould hardly let such a good deed go unrewarded, now could he?
***
Genma was many things; lazy, petty, greedy, hypocritical and prone to the more than the occassional bout of stupidity. However, he was a good martial artist, and more than a little skilled in reading ki... which was why he was barely staving off shock.
The power his son was radiating was overwhelming. The only time he'd sensed someone with that much power was the Master!
Genma was overjoyed. His retirement was guaranteed! If his son was this powerful now, how good would he be in a few years? His son would be the best! His son would be able to beat the Master! His son...
Was looking decidedly malicious at the moment. The rather powerful ki blast in his hand was doing nothing to reduce that image. Particularly as it was pointed square at him.
Genma started to sweat. He'd be safe, right? This was his son. The one he'd spent the last ten years raising, training... mooching food off, putting through harsh regimens, dragging through all manner of unpleasant territory.
Well shit.
Booooom!
***
The hovering young man snorted as he watched his father go flying off into the distance. Served the old man right, after...
Wait, that wasn't right. His father was dead, after Freiza-
Freiza? He didn't know a Frieza. His pops had been training him for the last ten-
No, he'd spent years travelling the galaxy, conquering worlds and kill-
No! That wasn't him! He wasn't a killer! He was a martial artist!
No, he was a proud Saiyajin warrior, prince-
He was Ranma Saotome!
He was Prince Vegeta.
Ranma/Vegeta grunted in pain and grasped his head. Growling, he launched himself up into the air, seeking a place where he could work out all this information in his head.
Author's Note: The Vegeta in question is the one who landed on Earth at the start of DBZ (in terms of power).
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(Posted Fri, 24 Sep 2010 20:33)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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