The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast long shadows across the luxury suite as Toji settled against the plush pillows, diary in hand.
Across the room, Vegeta had assumed a meditative posture on his own bed, eyes closed, seemingly focused on some internal exercise.
Toji turned his attention back to the worn leather-bound journal, continuing to read through it. The handwriting was neat but cramped, as if trying to conserve space on each page:
April 3rdMom's coughing got worse today. The doctor says it's just a cold, but I don't believe him. She can barely stand after her shifts at the Mizuno household.
I should be focusing on my entrance exams, but how can I when she looks so pale? Started looking for part-time work today.
April 17thFound a job stocking shelves at night. The pay is terrible, but it's something. Mom tried to refuse the medicine I bought - said I should save money for university.
As if I could study knowing she's suffering. The Mizunos worked her twelve hours today even though they could see how sick she is. Rich people really don't see us as human.
May 2ndMom collapsed today. The hospital bills will destroy what little savings we have, but what choice do I have? While waiting in the emergency room, I saw a broadcast about the World Martial Arts Tournament.
Some strange fighters with impossible moves. Must be camera tricks or something. Can't focus on that now though. Mom needs me.
Toji's eyes narrowed slightly as he realized the original Toji had unknowingly witnessed ki users fighting.
He continued reading, flipping through pages.
August 15thIt's official. Mom has stage 3 lung cancer. The doctor had the nerve to ask why we didn't come in sooner. As if we could afford regular checkups! The treatment plan costs more than we'd make in three years.
When I mentioned my name- Toji Zenin - the doctor's expression changed. He asked if I was related to the Zenin family. I said no. The lie tasted bitter. I'll never use my father's family name again.
August 20thTook a third job today. Sleep is becoming a luxury I can't afford, but neither is her medicine. Saw my father's face on a business magazine at the convenience store. "Takehito Zenin Expands Global Empire."
There was a photo of him with his wife and two children at some charity gala. The article mentioned their generous donation to cancer research. The irony makes me want to scream.
September 7thI did something stupid today. I went to the Zenin corporate headquarters. Waited three hours to be told Mr. Zenin was unavailable.
Left my contact information with his secretary. I know he won't call. But Mom needs the specialized treatment only money can buy. Pride won't keep her alive.
September 8thA lawyer came to our apartment today. Didn't introduce himself, just handed me an envelope with 100,000 zeni and a document to sign.
A non-disclosure agreement promising I'd never contact the Zenin family again. No note, no message. Just cash and a legal threat. I signed it. Mom's treatment starts next week.
Toji's jaw tightened as he read, but he continued through the middle entries,
January 23rdMom's responding well to the first round of treatment. The money's almost gone though. I dropped my classes at the community college.
No time anyway between the three jobs. So tired all the time. Sometimes I think I hear voices or see shadows moving when nothing's there. Sleep deprivation is no joke.
March 5thThe landlord raised our rent again. Had to move to an even smaller apartment in the bad part of town. There was a robbery next door last night.
Started keeping a baseball bat by the door. Not that I know how to fight, but it's something. Can't afford to get mugged - every zeni goes to Mom's treatments.
June 18thMom caught me practicing with the bat today, just basic swings in case I ever need to defend us.
She laughed for the first time in months, said I looked like I was playing baseball. I didn't tell her about the gang activity in the neighborhood. She has enough to worry about.
October 30thFound out one of my coworkers has been spreading rumors about me. Says I'm the illegitimate son of Takehito Zenin- how he knew that I have no idea.
I got fired today. Manager said they can't have "complicated situations" affecting workplace harmony. That's three jobs I've lost this year because of who my father is - or rather, who he isn't to me.
As Toji turned to the final year's entries, his expression darkened further:
February 13thMom's cancer is back. Doctor says the treatment isn't working anymore. When I asked about alternatives, he looked at me with pity.
Said there are experimental treatments overseas, but the cost... I called the number on that lawyer's card from years ago. The line had been disconnected.
April 26thHaven't slept in three days. Taking extra shifts wherever I can find them. Mom doesn't know I've stopped taking my pay home - I'm sending it all to that specialist in West City.
He says there's a chance with this new procedure, but we need to act fast.
I won't let her die because of money. Why is there so much focus on improving technology and still a disease so old hasn't been cured yet? Sometimes I'm thinking they don't want a cure to exist.
July 8thSo exhausted I can barely think straight. Dozed off at the construction site today. Nearly got hit by a falling beam. Foreman sent me home - said I'm a liability.
Can't afford to lose this job too. Mom's getting worse. The treatments aren't working. I'm losing her and there's nothing I can do.
September 19thMom's hospital room overlooks the Zenin estate. She can see his mansion from her window. The irony is unbearable.
Yesterday, I thought I saw him visiting someone in the hospital. I followed, but lost him in the crowd. Was probably just my imagination. Why would he be here?
November 2ndFound a strange note in Mom's personal things. An old love letter from him. She kept it all these years.
In it, he promised to marry her too, to acknowledge me as his son. All lies. Mom caught me reading it. She wasn't angry, just sad.
Said he wasn't always the cold man he became. Said the Zenin family threatened to disown him if he didn't cut ties with us. Said she never told me because she didn't want me to hate him. Too late for that.
December 24thChristmas Eve in the hospital. Mom's barely conscious now. The nurse brought us a small cake. I couldn't eat it.
Found a gift box at our door when I went home to shower. Inside was a watch - expensive, designer brand. No card, but I know who it's from.
I wanted to throw it in the trash- but I'll sell it, for the money. I still hate him- It's far too late for guilty conscience gifts to change anything.
The final entries made Toji's hands tighten around the diary's edges, the leather creaking under his grip:
January 15thMom died at 3:17 this morning. I was holding her hand. Her last words were "I'm sorry." What was she sorry for? For loving the wrong man?
For giving birth to me? For leaving me alone? The hospital administrator came by with the final bill. I laughed until I started crying.
January 18thBuried Mom today. No one came. Not even him. I have nothing left. The apartment will be foreclosed next week. Found a bottle of sleeping pills in Mom's medicine cabinet. They look peaceful, like little white promises of rest.
January 20thSaw a news report about two fast moving objects heading to earth. People think its aliens. The world is going crazy. Or maybe I am. Haven't eaten in two days. Can't remember the last time I slept properly. What's the point anymore? Mom was everything.
January 21stThis is it. No more jobs, no more apartment, no more fighting. The pills are lined up on the bathroom counter. Mom, I'm sorry I couldn't save you.
Maybe we'll see each other soon. I wonder if he'll hear about my death? Will he even care? Doesn't matter now. Nothing does.
And that's where it ended.
Toji stared at the final entry, written the very day he'd arrived in this body. A wave of white-hot rage surged through him, his ki fluctuating violently with his emotions.
The injustice of it all – a young man working himself to death to save his mother, abandoned by a father who had the means to help but chose not to.
Across the room, Vegeta's eyes snapped open, his meditation broken by the sudden surge of power. For a split second, his - newly developing - ki sense, that he just got the hang of, was overwhelmed.
The Saiyan prince felt as though death itself was lounging across from him, a star of fury ready to explode and consume everything.
But as quickly as it had flared, Toji's ki receded, pulled back under tight control. His expression, momentarily contorted with rage, smoothed into forced calm.
He tossed the diary aside on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling.
Vegeta remained perfectly still, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Whatever had triggered that reaction, he knew better than to mention it.
The book – whatever it contained – had clearly touched a nerve in the monster.
Toji sighed deeply, thoughts churning. He could easily track down the Zenin family, make them pay for what they'd done to the original Toji and his mother.
With his power, he could reduce their mansion to rubble, force that coward of a father to face consequences for his abandonment.
But what would be the point? He wasn't really Toji Fushiguro – just someone who'd taken over his body after death.
Getting emotional over every person dealt a bad hand in life wasn't sustainable, no matter how much he saw himself in this Toji's story, in his devotion to his mother that mirrored Samael's own love for his parents.
If he truly wanted to be some kind of warrior of justice...
Toji's eyes drifted toward Vegeta, who immediately froze under his gaze. The Saiyan prince felt like an ant under a microscope, a tiny insect being examined by a child contemplating whether to crush it or let it live.
The thought disappeared as quickly as it had formed.
Vegeta was far too useful to eliminate, and if Toji's memories of the series were correct, the prince would eventually redeem himself.
The predatory feeling dissipated, and Vegeta released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Toji sat up abruptly, needing to take his mind off these dark thoughts.
"Hey Vegeta," he called across the room.
The Saiyan prince turned, his composure mostly recovered though a thin sheen of sweat still glistened on his brow. "What do you want?" he asked coldly.
"What happens if we kill Frieza?" Toji asked, his tone conversational as if discussing the weather.
Vegeta's eyebrows rose slightly at the unexpected question. After a moment's consideration, he answered, "Besides the fact that I will personally spit on his corpse and feed it to the Saibamen?"
A cruel smile crossed his face before fading. "His family will come. Cooler, his older brother, will seek revenge for the humiliation of their bloodline. And King Cold, their father, will want to reclaim the empire."
"Frieza's the current head of the empire, right?" Toji asked.
"Yes," Vegeta confirmed. "Cold abdicated some time ago, though he remains influential. Cooler rules his own smaller empire in the Eastern Galactic Quadrant – the Cooler Force, they call it. He's always been jealous of Frieza's greater power and larger territory."
"And if we kill all of them?"
Vegeta scoffed. "Then the universe descends into chaos. A power vacuum that size would trigger wars across every galaxy as various forces scramble to claim the title of Emperor. The Galactic Patrol would be overwhelmed. Entire planets would be destroyed in the conflict."
Toji leaned back against the headboard, contemplating this information. "So in a way, Frieza is necessary for universal peace, despite how despicable he is."
Vegeta's head snapped up, alarm in his eyes. "You're not having second thoughts, are you? Frieza needs to die. We can't let him obtain immortality. If he does, he'll eventually come to Earth and destroy it, along with everyone on it."
"I know that," Toji replied casually. "Don't forget, my primary reason for wanting to fight Frieza isn't because he's evil. It's because I want to use my full power against someone who can take it."
Internally, Toji's thoughts ran deeper.
He remembered the "mortal level" concept from Dragon Ball Super – how Universe 7 had one of the lowest ratings, putting it at risk of erasure. If Zeno existed in this universe (and Toji wasn't certain of anything yet), that risk might still be present.
The low mortal level was likely due in part to Frieza's tyranny. Rather than fostering advancement and civilization, he destroyed and subjugated worlds for profit and pleasure.
Someone needed to take his place – someone who understood the need to raise the mortal level.
Someone like him.
But Toji didn't want to devote his entire existence to running an empire. He wanted to enjoy his life, to experience this new world fully, while still reaping the benefits, respect, and glory of being Emperor.
He'd need a... Regent.
"Vegeta," Toji called out again, watching as the prince rummaged through a small refrigerator in the corner of the room.
"What now?" Vegeta asked irritably, pulling out a juice box and puncturing it with the attached straw.
Toji grinned broadly. "How would you like to be my Grand Regent?"
Vegeta froze mid-sip, juice box suspended in front of his face, confusion evident in his expression.
"My plan is to take over Frieza's empire after we defeat him," Toji explained, watching Vegeta's reaction carefully.
"But I'll need a second-in-command – someone who can rule in my stead when I'm not in the mood or have other things to do. A Grand Regent. And who better than the most powerful being alive other than me and the Cold family?"
Internally, Toji knew about Beerus, Whis, and other immensely powerful beings, but he wasn't counting them in this of course, since he isn't supposed to know, and they aren't really options either.
Vegeta lowered the juice box slowly, his expression incredulous. "Have you gone mad? You want to take over Frieza's Empire and make me your... steward?"
"Yep," Toji confirmed cheerfully. "So, do you agree?"
Vegeta opened his mouth, clearly ready to refuse, but Toji quickly interrupted.
"If you don't want to, I can always ask Nappa instead," he said casually, examining his fingernails. "Though I imagine he'd enjoy having higher authority than you, plus my personal protection..."
"I'll- I'll do it," Vegeta snapped immediately, the thought of Nappa outranking him clearly unbearable.
"Excellent!" Toji clapped his hands together. "Then it's decided."
Vegeta will probably want to eventually try to take it for himself eventually- but Toji knew he had enough time to put him in his place and show why that thought is a delusional dream.
Outside the window, the last traces of daylight had faded, leaving only the glow of West City's lights against the night sky. Toji rose from the bed and pulled the curtains closed.
"We should sleep," he announced, returning to his bed and pulling the covers over himself without bothering to change clothes. "Tomorrow will be a long day. We need to prepare as much as possible before heading to Namek."
He settled into the plush mattress, sighing contentedly. "Wake me up in the morning, would you?"
Vegeta scowled. "Why should I? Why not wake yourself up?"
"Because I want you to wake me up," Toji replied without opening his eyes. "Shut up and do it. It's your first duty as my future right hand. If you don't, I'll beat you up."
The real reason, which Toji kept to himself, was that this body was severely sleep-deprived after years of overwork and stress. He couldn't be certain he'd wake naturally, even with an alarm.
Vegeta's scowl deepened, but he offered no further argument as he climbed into his own bed.
Despite his irritation, he silently decided he would indeed wake Toji in the morning – not out of fear, he told himself, but because it served his own interests to stay on the human's good side.
As darkness settled over the room, both men drifted toward sleep – one planning an interstellar empire, the other plotting how to eventually claim it for himself.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
Do tell me how you found it.
I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)