The King of the Vagabonds
“Damn Saiyan”, Bruce murmured, feeling the blood from his wound still soak through his shirt. Why wasn’t it closing? He wrapped the blanked tighter around himself. He was careful that it hid his ears and most of his face, but couldn’t avoid the homeless staring at him nevertheless. Well, it did look like he was wearing a cat-ear-hat beneath the blanked. He shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing to do about it, was there?
“You said something?” The homeless next to him asked. They stood around burning barrel, together with another homeless.
“Nothing.” Because he’d been in thought, Bruce just then noticed the man’s wound on his wrist. It looked like it was about to get infected. “Just - Will you look at this: it’s a bandage and some antibiotics.” Bruce searched for it a second, then showed the man the items. “I don’t need those.” He threw them to the ground.
“Idiot!” the man laughed. Collecting the items, he made a run for it. Bruce turned back to the barrel, warming his hands. Looking up a little to see how the other homeless would react, he found a blue mans face looking back at him.