After one last battle with the help of Goku, taking place in the afterworld, Vejita gives a sad smile to the one he always called his enemy, yet knew inside was his friend, before his soul was to fade into amnesia and rebirth.
A doujinshi artist shows Vejita's memories in the form of photographs, both cheerful and serious. He grew up with many, though no true family. Even the cutest of portraits were encompassed by the bitterness of his situation, and so many of these happy relationships ended with him accepting their deaths, or killing them himself.
The Prince, having sacraficed himself for his loved ones and all the Earth, flies past the Serpent Road with an expression of desperation and determination, in search of someone pivotal to the fates.
The bent posture, the half-curled body position, and the wary, weary face bring to mind images of an exhausted soldier in the trenches at war. His eyes are glazed in exhaustion yet still burning determined past the hidden fear. Even in trying to relax, he is curled protectively around himself, possibly holding wounds he wants nobody to see.
This is not showing the usual desire to fight, but the resignation of fighting because he has to.
It takes a strong wind to flex a Saiya-jin's hair, yet this gust rises to the challenge and proves worthy of his approval, accentuating his sharp features and earning his silent respect.
Upon finding out that the Legendary Super Saiya-jin had been found, it not being him, Vejita considers whether or not he should go forth to defeat the dangerous man bearing the title he was supposed to posess.
The Prince sits on the balcony of his home, making use of the quiet to think his many thoughts, clearing his mind to take in the colorful sky and fresh air.
The customer only wanted a half a head of lettuce, and insisted the stock boy check with the manager before denying his request.
The boy approached his boss. "Some moron wants to buy half a head of lettuce," he said. Just then he saw that the customer was standing right behind him. "And this gentle-man," he added quickly, "has kindly offered to buy the other half."
Later the manager said, "That was some pretty quick thinking. Tell me, where are you from, son?"
"Canada, sir," the boy replied.
"Really? And why did you leave?"
"Because there's nobody up there but tramps and hockey players."
"I see," said the manager. "You know, my wife is from Canada."
"Really?" said the boy. "What team did she play for?"
-Peter Stone