The Light to my Darkness

BY : SaiyanPrince541
Category: Dragon Ball Z > AU - Alternate Universe
Dragon prints: 5288
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN DRAGON BALL Z, OR ANY OF THE PRIMARY CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY!! THOSE ARE ALL TORIYAMA'S!! THIS IS A NON-PROFIT, FAN-MADE STORY!!!

Chapter 38: Nightmare

An entire diddling week went by at snail-pace for the weary Saiyan Prince, before his obnoxious, blue-haired vixen had finally given him the green light to go ahead and train.

'Tch, foolish woman.' Vegeta thought to himself. He'd mastered the ability to track her minute Ki signal, no matter where it was. Thus, she hadn't the slightest clue that he had, in fact, been training for days during her absence, mostly working on a vast array of strenuous leg exercises. It wasn't that he entertained her counsel, but he did seriously heed her threat to put the gravity machine on lockdown for three whole months. In his experience, someone as stubborn as her scarcely made idle threats, though he'd never met anyone quite so stubborn.

Now, here he was, in the courtyard, done with his warm up and engaging himself in a traditional Saiyan Kata, consisting of fluid counterattack maneuvers. He'd learned the set from his father, when he was just a young boy.

"Hey there, handsome."

Vegeta turned towards the intruder's high-pitched voice and scowled, as he saw that crazy, scatter-brained blonde, clasping her hands together.

"What the hell do you want?!"

"Well, breakfast is ready, sugar cake and I just wanted to let you know." The middle-aged woman winked and let out a girlish laugh upon seeing his flustered face, before heading back inside the compound.

'Sugar cake?!' Vegeta cringed inwardly, disgusted by her schmalzy vernacular. He was highly tempted to blast her to smithereens, but if he did that, he'd probably get more than an earful from that highly capricious daughter of hers.

He followed Mrs. Brief inside and his mouth watered at the range of delicacies, gleaming before him, on the long, fine oak, trestle table: sausages, omelettes, fried eggs, brownies, an array of exquisite sandwiches, each sliced diagonally into four trigonal pieces of paradise, apple pie, krapfens, pretzels, waffles, chocolate croissants, mediterranean sweets, pancakes, a bowl of maple syrup, several jugs of fruit juice and an ornate, marble kyusu, filled to the brim, with fresh green tea. He was hardly able to keep himself from devouring everything, on the spot!

"Vegeta, you're drooling." Bulma giggled, handing him a handkerchief. "Here."

The Prince growled and snatched it off her, immediately wiping his lips clean and taking a seat.

"You're welcome, ass!"

Dr. Brief forked a waffle and took a small bite, warily eyeing Vegeta from time to time, as breakfast continued. If the Prince noticed his ganders, he didn't pay them any heed. Bulma and her mother prattled on, during the course of the meal, though ninety percent of their inane blather was ignored by the males present. The Saiyan could not get enough of Panchy's perfect cooking (A/N: I just learned that Mrs. Brief's canonical name is Panchy)!

"So how's your training going?" The heiress smiled. No response. She scowled and punched Vegeta in the arm. The Prince swallowed and gave her an indignant glare.

"What are you doing?!" He snapped.

"I asked you how your training's going!" She said, expression unchanged.

"It would be going a lot better, if you'd activate the damn gravity room!" He promptly replied.

"Hey, you're not well enough for that!" She retorted. "Just give it a little time! You're healing really fast, anyway! It shouldn't take that long!"

"Tch, whatever!" They'd been through this at least a hundred times and he just couldn't be bothered arguing with this obdurate female, any longer. It was her prerogative for now, but soon that would change, once he figured out how to operate that accursed contraption, for himself.

"I'm glad you're so understanding." She drolly remarked.

"Shut up."

Post-breakfast, Vegeta was preoccupied with training and Bulma took the time to clear out her room of all the scientific tools and other paraphernalia, she'd been keeping inside, while her Saiyan was bed-ridden. Strange, as it was, she was already feeling nostalgic, as she laid eyes upon the large, empty bed, where she would often find a grouchy, or better yet, napping Saiyan. Whenever she would feed him, the butterflies would hymn sweet love songs in the base of her stomach and gods, his sleeping face was to die for. She'd taken several pictures and stored them on a private online gallery, not that he had the faintest clue. If he did, then she'd probably have to seize the spaceship and fly as far away as possible, in order to avoid his hellish wrath.

The heiress donned a formal business outfit, tied her hair back into a ponytail, with bangs fashioned on the front and twirly tresses, falling on either side of her face, before putting on hot pink lipstick and applying some makeup and mascara. She then drove to the central headquarters of the company, a few blocks down and proceeded to make her way inside her office on the top floor, in order to catch up on some administrative work that she'd been delaying, for a while. She hated being cooped up in that damned office, but it had to be done sometime. After all, she was Bulma Brief, vice-president of the world's most successful organization. Before long, her father would spend his days, dillydallying in retirement and she'd be at the forefront of Capsule Corporation, not that she looked forward to it, not in the least, but it was a responsibility that came with being as incredibly brilliant and talented, as she was.

At around four in the afternoon, Dr. Brief took an early day off, saying that he needed to take care of a few things, leaving poor Bulma in charge, for the two remaining hours, of operation.

XXXX

Vegeta was training in the courtyard, when he sensed yet another encroacher, heading his way. He frowned, as his dark eyes were greeted with the sight of the old man, who hadn't said a word to him, since his arrival. The doctor was a good seven feet or so from the Saiyan, when he abruptly ceased his traipse and surveyed him, for a moment or so.

"Is there something I can do for you?!" Vegeta asked, peevishly.

"Yes, there is." He responded, adjusting his glasses a little. "Would you mind sparing a minute of your time?"

"Yes, I would mind!" He rejoined in dismissal and paid him no heed, as he continued his leg combinations. Dr. Brief remained unmoving and after a few minutes Vegeta grew weary. "Why're you still here?!" The Prince growled, starting to feel nettled.

"This is my house." The doctor replied, tone level-headed. "And I would like a minute from you, so I'll stay right here, until you-"

"Dammit, just say what you've come to say!" Vegeta interjected. "One minute and not a second more!"

"Right." Dr. Brief nodded. "Well, let's get straight to it then." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, before broaching the subject that had put a severe strain on his mind for days. "I've never been very strict with Bulma, since her adolescent years, always letting her take off on adventures and explore the planet, on her own accord. Nonetheless, she is my daughter and the most precious thing I have in this world."

"You're afraid, I'll harm her?" The Prince asked, knowing exactly where this discussion was headed.

"Do you blame me?"

"Of course not." Vegeta smirked. "After all, I am probably the single most dangerous person in the entire Universe, now that Frieza's dead." Dr. Brief narrowed his eyes. "But, bringing me here was her decision." The Saiyan snorted thereafter. "She's a foolish girl."

"Careful, boy."

"Or what?!" Vegeta sneered. This old geezer had some nerve! Everyone that had ever called him 'boy', were now dead and in ashes!

"Bulma would've fought tooth-and-nail, saving your life." The good doctor stated, purposefully ignoring the Saiyan's challenge. "I still don't know what she sees in you, but her choices are her own and I'll always respect them." A brief pause followed. "All I ask from you is one thing."

"And what's that?"

"A promise." He replied, gravely. "Swear to me that you'll never hurt my little girl, in any way."

Vegeta pondered a moment. He still loathed this weakness he felt around Bulma, but he accepted that it was a deep-seated part of him that wouldn't go away any time soon, if ever. His gut tightened at the thought of someone, so much as laying a finger on her, especially himself. She was his woman and he would always safeguard her, from anyone and everyone.

"You have my word." He assured in an even tone. Though he didn't meet the doctor's eyes, he sounded thoroughly sincere. "I believe it's been longer than a minute."

"It has."

"Good." Vegeta grunted. "In that case, leave."

"Very well." Dr. Brief sighed and went back into the compound, sitting on the love couch and musing to himself. While that Saiyan was aloof, taciturn, outright impudent and not very talkative, he was upfront and forthcoming, never beating around the bush. Bizarre as it seemed, he felt a smidgeon of reverence towards that boy, if only for that. Truth be told, his curt vow was extremely unexpected, but for some odd reason, he believed him. Malicious as he may have been, he could tell that Vegeta cared for Bulma, though he was doing his utmost not to show it.

Night approached and the Prince was in the midst of another Kata, when a certain blue-haired female came by, donned in a hot-pink, spaghetti-strapped singlet and lime green, flannel shorts, with wavy white lines across it.

"Vegeta?"

"Ugh, can you people never leave me alone?!"

"Hush up!" Bulma planted her hands on her hips, staring pointedly at him. "You've been training all day and it's eleven o'clock now! I wanna get some sleep!"

"Then go ahead and do it!" He growled. "I'm not stopping you."

"Come on Vegeta, I'll sleep a lot better if you're there with me." She smiled coyly, rubbing her sheeny, milky, toned thigh up and down with one hand and sensually massaging her breast with the other.

Vegeta immediately froze, his shaft steadily rising and pointing in her direction, as if that's where he needed to go. Bulma drank in the sight of his large phallus, protruding from those tight spandex shorts and licked her lips. The Saiyan snarled, growing jealous of her touching herself. How dare she?! That was his job!

Half an hour later, the pair were in bed, breathing raggedly on each other's shoulders. Bulma was on top of Vegeta, following yet another mesmerizing tryst, only a sheet covering their nude bodies. The room was rich with the spicy, intoxicating aroma of sex. As usual, the heiress was playing with fistfuls of her Saiyan's hair, as his hands roved up and down her back, before finally settling on her voluptuous behind.

"Perv." She teased, moving her face up and kissing his balmy lips, earning a slow and lengthy grunt in response. "But I suppose, I'll let you off the hook just this one time." She smiled and kissed him again, before moving her lips to this ear. "Next time, you'll have to pay though." She whispered, whereby he shuddered, a rush of pleasure running through him.

"No, you will!" He growled and immediately turned their positions around, entering her once again, as a new bout commenced. Another twenty minutes passed, as the feisty duo panted into each other's mouths, bodies pressed together firmly.

"You know Vegeta, I've been wondering." The heiress said.

"About?"

"About you." She replied. "I mean, you've obviously got tons of experience, so tell me something: was there ever someone special, in your life, before I came along?"

"Tch, there's nothing special about you." He scoffed.

"Hey!" The heiress growled and punched him on the shoulder. The Prince smirked. Grating her nerves was much too easy, not to mention, amusing as hell. He would never grow tired of that blazing, blue fire that lit her eyes, every time he ruffled her feathers. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Was there another woman in your past? Someone you cared about?"

"No!" He seethed. "And I don't want to talk about it!" Other than herself, every woman he'd screwed was now dead, by his own hand (A/N: Refer to Chapter 13)! He didn't want to be reminded of that, especially with her bare form, right below his own. His chest tightened at the thought of treating her to the same fate, as he had the others.

"But-"

"Enough!"

"Fine." Bulma's shoulders slumped. Why was this such a sensitive issue?

A few hours passed by, as the odd couple lay in each other's arms, bare limbs tangled beneath the sheets.

Warning: The following scene is extremely graphic and likely to be a little too strong for young and/or ideologically sensitive viewers:

Vegeta had the silver-haired, lavender skinned beauty bent over, as he thrust his erected shaft inside her centre, again and again. She screamed for more, relishing in the sensation of his groin striking her sheeny, voluptuous butt cheeks, each time he ploughed into her. He firmly gripped her on either side of the pelvis, as he continued pleasuring her. As her climax erupted, so to did the Prince’s.

"Wow- that was- amazing." Sheela laughed merrily, between pants. "We should- do it again, some-"

KHRISHHH!

She hadn't said another word, as Vegeta grabbed her hair, roughly pulling her back towards his Ki-infused arm and lancing it right through her petite midsection. Her eyes bulged, tears streamed down the exotic woman's cheeks, her lifeblood draining through the spacious, flesh encrusted perforation.

"Wh-Wh-Why?" She cried, tone riddled with hurt and betrayal.

"Did you not think to ask who I was?" He malevolently breathed into her ear.

"Wh-Wh-What?" Sheela coughed out a glob of blood.

"I am Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans and I'm on a mission to eradicate every bit of life, on this wretched planet." He smirked maliciously. Anguish, sorrow and regret coiled through the beautiful young gem, as an ocean of tears flooded out her emerald eyes. "However, it never hurts to have a little pleasure on the side."

Two seconds later, her limbs dangled lifelessly and Vegeta retrieved his hand, unceremoniously letting Sheela fall into the grass, face-first.

 

"I have to admit, you're the best I've had so far." He chuckled evilly. As he always had, he knelt down and turned the woman around, to drink in the relishing sight of her dead emerald eyes, only- they weren't emerald. They were sapphire. And her skin was no longer lavender, but porcelain. Vegeta narrowed his eyes, taken aback at the anomalous change. Suddenly, as he witnessed her silver hair turn blue, his eyes widened, as a wave of memories shot right into his mind, like a rifle bullet.

"B-B-B-Bulma?" He whispered, his sinewy frame going limp in a trice. A terrifying bolt of thunder, struck his heart. Unprecedented shock, grief, pain and regret surged through his limp figure, upon recognizing the inanimate, yet everlastingly beautiful face of his little woman, her azure eyes lifeless and deluged with searing horror and excruciation. He felt as though a million knives were slicing up his stony heart, again and again and throwing each piece into a barrel of nitric acid, one by one. Chills of resentment, guilt, fear and self-loathing rushed through him.

"N-No, wh-what have I done?!" He uttered in abject despair, as droplets of contrite, doleful tears fell, one after another. He killed her! With his own accursed hand, he'd ended the blissful existence of the only being that had ever cared for him, since his planet's destruction! He betrayed and murdered her brutally, the woman he'd sworn to protect, the light of his life! How could did this have happened?! He fell onto her chest and screamed aloud, as a sea of tears rushed out his dark eyes.

"Vegeta, wake up, wake up!" A solicitous Bulma shook the Saiyan's shoulders. Vegeta's screams only mounted and he unknowingly grabbed his female's wrist, squeezing it, in an excruciatingly tight grip. The heiress cried out in agony, prompting the Prince to finally awaken.

"B-Bulma?" He asked softly, heart decelerating. He released her from his deathly grasp and the heiress shrank back, in fear. She whimpered and clutched her arm, looking upon her swollen wrist, with teary eyes. Vegeta gazed at her incredulously. Only moments ago, she'd been dead at his feet. He took in his surroundings and quickly realized that he'd had a nightmare, or more accurately, a flashback. Sheela. She was one of his earliest victims, a hapless girl, who'd so tragically fallen into his snare.

"Vegeta?"

The Prince stared blankly at Bulma, ebony eyes flooded with relief, yet a strong undertone of guilt and contrition.

"Wh-What happened?" She asked, eyes watery.

"I- I- killed-" His words caught in his throat. A mere second later, his expression hardened. He brusquely leapt off the bed and fossicked his side of the cupboard at super-speed, till he was able to dig out a pair of black, spandex shorts.

"Wait, where're you going?!" Bulma shot up, forgetting all about her pain, as she dashed forward and stood in front of him. "What did you mean?! Who did you kill?!"

"Move!"

"No!" She protested. "You were having a bad dream and then you started screaming all of a sudden! Just tell me what happened!"

"I can't!"

"Yes you can!"

"I killed you!" He blurted out, not looking her in the eye and immediately shooting past her, into the bathroom, opting to take a quick shower, before clearing his mind, via training. His entire body was trembling, his mind addled and his lungs struggling to capture some much needed air, in the aftermath of that bloodcurdling nightmare. He could still see her, dead eyes brimmed with tears that acidified right through his heart, an expression of unprecedented pain and betrayal! The Prince tried shaking those images out of his head, but they just wouldn't go!

Bulma was transfixed for several minutes, eyes widened, as she placed a hand on her skittering heart, refusing to believe what she'd just heard.

'Relax, Bulma, it was only a bad dream.' She tried reassuring herself mentally, but it did little to root out the trepidation that was plaguing her heart and mind. Vegeta could never hurt her, let alone kill her! She knew that, for a fact! He'd cried over her dying form, back on Namek, for heaven's sake! There had to be some plausible explanation behind the nightmare, she convinced herself! A moment later, her Saiyan came out of the bathroom, clad only in lycra that only covered his pelvic girdle and thighs, a few inches above the knees.

"Hey Vegeta, can we talk for minute?"

"No, I need to train." He replied, as phlegmatically as he could and headed out the door, ignoring her shouts that it was too early for training and that she wanted him back on the bed, by her side. Bulma huffed and folded her arms. She supposed she'd skip work today, perks of being vice-president. Thank God, she was up-to-date with all that administrative garbage. Nothing ticked her off more than that! She loved dabbling herself in the practical, inventive and creative side of the job, especially when she worked alongside her fabulous team, but negotiating with suppliers and clientele, signing contracts, dealing with negligent employees and managers and all the rest of it, never sat well with her. The business end of things was always such a darn headache! It only made Bulma loathe the idea of being President, that much further. And so she lay on her bed, hair unkempt, as she restlessly stared at the ceiling, pondering for several hours, until the sun finally rose up.

The heiress hopped off the bed and took a shower, being careful not to further damage her wrist. Afterwards, she dried herself, put on a pair of baby blue panties and matching bra, clambered into a cap-sleeved, floral sundress with a modest, U-neckline, over which she wore a casual, powder pink vest. Bulma subsequently applied some ointment on her wounded zone and bandaged it up, before taking a deep breath, stepping into a pair of white flip flops and heading towards her hotheaded Saiyan, taking a detour through her lab.

Not surprised in the least, she found Vegeta training rigorously in the courtyard, wreaking havoc upon the hapless concrete walls and ceramic tiles.

"Leave!" The Prince ordered brusquely, sensing her Ki, without having to look at her. He wanted to see her and touch her, he truly did, but he was afraid he'd hurt her, like before. And that pissed him off, more than anything! He would not be able to grow stronger, with that 'fear' lingering in his jumbled mind! That was truly unacceptable! He needed space, till he could sort out all the mess within his cursed system. One thing was certain. He couldn't sleep on the same bed as her, not after the earlier debacle. She'd be a fool to ask him otherwise!

"Vegeta, I'm not here to-"

In a flash the Saiyan was upon her, grimacing deeply. She almost fell over, until a pair of calloused hands held her from either side of the waist, to keep her stable.

"Go, now!" Vegeta demanded, releasing her, after she regained her footing.

"No!" She scowled. "I don't know what the hell your problem is! I'm just trying to help you!"

"I don't need anyone's help!" He loured indignantly.

"Can you just listen to me for one second?!"

"No! Leave!"

"Fine then!" She retorted furiously. "I'll just shut off the gravity room for good! Let's see you catch up to Goku then, you goddamn-"

The very next millisecond she was pinned against the wall, Vegeta's hands pressed against her shoulders, tight enough to hold her in place, without causing any damage. He could never hurt her, no matter what she did or said! But he still had his limits and he wouldn't allow her denigrate him, in such a vile and uncouth manner!

"Never mention me in the same sentence as that foolish, third class, birdbrain!" He curled his lips, in the most feral of snarls. "I am the Saiyan Prince and the first among my race to reach Super Saiyan! I defeated Frieza, with my bare hands!"

"You did all of that, because of me, don't forget!" She rejoined, fervidly. "I'm not your enemy! All I want is to talk!"

"Why?!" He asked, vexedly. "You want me to pry inside my godforsaken head, is that it?! I don't need a damned confidant! No matter what silly threats you make, you'll never hear anything from-"

"No, that's not it!" She interposed, vehemently, before taking a sigh, and looking upon him squarely, features softened, as she took hold of his wrists with her small hands. Every time she touched him that way, Vegeta's heart would fly and his urge to protect her, would soar. He let go of her shoulders. "I won't lie to you. I want to know what's troubling you, but I won't force you into telling me. You don't have to say anything, unless you're good, ready and willing."

"Then what do you want?!"

"I've come up with an idea, to keep you calm, just in case you have anymore nightmares."

"I don't have nightmares!" He growled.

"Can you just shut up and listen to me?!" She frowned, peevishly. He ground his teeth, but after a moment, grunted for her to go on. And so, she did. "Anyway, many years ago, Goku came over to Capsule Corporation, a little while after he married Chi-Chi." The Prince creased his brows at the mention of the younger Saiyan. "He asked me if I could build a device that would help him train, without Ki. He told me that having a strong foundation would help his power grow naturally and make his real training, a lot more fruitful. He was there to guide me of course, on how Ki works. It took me a few days to finally come up with an idea and a little while after that, I made a prototype of these." She pulled out an identical pair of what looked like manacle bands, from her vest pocket.

"What are these?" The Prince dubiously touched the unlinked contraptions.

"They're Ki restraints." She replied. "It takes about five minutes for them to boot, but after that, they absorb a user's Ki, while he or she, wears them. Ever since Goku learned how to suppress his Ki, he no longer needed them and gave them back to me."

"Your point?"

"These things are gonna help." She stated.

"Forget it!" He scrunched his brows, in resolute objection. "I'll never wear these!"

"Why not?!" Bulma frowned. "Goku used them and nothing bad ever happened to him. It's only during nighttime."

"It's useless." He shook his head. "Kakarot was a weakling back then. Surely, my power level's too high to be contained and it'll only accelerate, with time."

"Then suppress it, dumbo." She stated, as though it were obvious. "Not only do the restraints absorb Ki, but they send electric waves through your body that prevent you from raising it again, right until you take them off, of course." The Prince creased his eyes, for a moment.

"Suppose you're right." He somewhat entertained her idea. "How exactly are these stupid things going to help?"

"I did a lot of research, while I was making them." She responded. "There's a direct correlation between Ki and loss of sound judgment and control. That's one of the reasons why Goku's such an oddball. He always thrives for a challenge and the opportunity to test his abilities. With his increasing power, that urge only grows stronger." The heiress then scowled. "That also explains why you two knuckleheads decided to stay on Namek to fight Frieza, instead of coming back here."

"I didn't decide anything!" The Prince adamantly objected. "That was all Kakarot!"

"Oh?" Bulma asked innocently, pressing an index finger to her lips. "So if you were given the option, you'd choose otherwise?"

"Hell no! Frieza needed to die, by my hand!"

"And there you have it." The heiress smirked. "No matter how strong you Super Saiyans are, you're still the biggest idiots in the entire Universe."

"You-"

"Look, point is that with your Ki repressed to zero, your mind will be a lot more relaxed and in the rare event that you have another nightmare, you won't react so strongly." She stated. "Even if you do, which I highly doubt, you won't cause nearly as much harm. It was lucky that you snapped out of it quickly or I'd probably have a robotic hand, by now." Vegeta gazed at her bandaged wrist and his dark, ebony eyes instantly flooded with remorse. He must've hurt her worse than he'd thought.

"I- I never meant to-"

"Hey, it's alright, I know." She smiled, placing her dainty fingers on his mouth. She gently embraced him, sighing into his neck, loving the musk of his rich, masculine scent and the feel of his bare, chiseled torso and firm hips, pressing against her petite body. "You don't have to tell me."

"Foolish woman." The Prince breathed into her ear, in a gravelly voice, girding his arms around her waist, as his tail wound itself around her slender thigh, making her legs tingle. A solacing warmth ran straight through her.

"Crazy Saiyan." She mumbled back. For long moments they stood together, relishing in the comfort of each other's arms, till Bulma broke the companionable silence. "So what do you say?"

"Are there any side effects?"

"No, none."

"Fine, I'll do it!" He eventually huffed and gave in. "But only while I'm sleeping!"

"Sure."

Vegeta was still strongly repentant that he'd harmed her. He wanted to apologize, he really did, but his pride was the only thing that prevented him from it. He'd never done so before, ever and he couldn't now! It just wasn't him!

The next day, Bulma's cell phone rang and on the other line, was the last person, she would've expected to hear from, at this time.

"Hello."

"B-Bulma?" A dejected voice replied. He strongly considering to hang up there and then.

"Y-Yamcha, is that you?" An astounded heiress asked.

"Yeah." He murmured faintly. A few seconds of tense silence followed. "Hello?"

"I'm still here."

"Oh- okay, uh- well- I just wanted to apologize for the way I've been acting, since I came back." He mumbled, shamefacedly. "I mean, after everything you'd been through, it wasn't right for me to just-"

"Hey, it's alright." She replied, kindly. "You don't have to-"

"Please, just let me finish, Bulma." He interrupted. "I'm not gonna be a hypocrite anymore. I never told you this, but I had a few- uh- involvements myself, after we broke up."

"I know."

"Y-Y-You do?"

"Yeah, Krillin told me." She affirmed. "But it's alright. Let's just forget about the past. Listen, I'm kinda in the middle of a project right now, so could you run by here tomorrow afternoon. I'd really love to catch up."

"So would I." The scar-faced warrior genuinely replied. "It's just- I don't want to see, you know-"

"Yamcha, just forget about him." She sighed, pressing the base of palm against her forehead. "All he does is train all day long. He probably won't even know you're there."

"I still don't get why you would ever-"

"Enough about Vegeta!" The heiress growled, causing Yamcha to flinch on the other end. She took a moment to collect herself. "Look, I won't lie to you. I love him, I really do but I love you as well, just- not in the same way."

Another taut moment passed.

"Yamcha, you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Well, uh- I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah okay, bye." He said quickly and hung up, before she had a chance to reply.

"Bye." She responded anyway. A huge weight had finally been lifted off her chest, after that phone call. For nearly two weeks, her ex had been distancing himself and by doing so, only deepening the wound in her heart. She really looked forward to spending some time with him. Perhaps he hadn't explicitly forgiven her yet, but if all went well, hopefully that would change and life would merrily go on. They would remain friends, until the end of their days and travel their own paths through life. She prayed that one day, Yamcha would find someone that made him happy the way she never could, just as Vegeta had done, with her. After all his misfortune, he truly deserved that much.


You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story