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Flawed Perfection	By : Not_Bulma06 Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female > Vegeta/Bulma Views: 3422 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any part any part of Dragon Ball Z, or any part of the Dragon Ball series or the characters involved. No profit comes from the creation of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
I do not own DBZ or profit from this fan fiction.
Her eyes were heavy as she struggled to keep herself awake. Her body was drained of all energy and will to move forward any further in her travels for the day. Not sure how long that she had been running and living in the shadows, at least months, surely she could stop and rest for a while. Bulma stumbled, catching herself against a wall of what appeared to be an abandoned home. The plaster wall felt cool against her sun burned skin. She shook her head violently attempting to regain her wits. Her eyes peered into the shattered window, no sign of life stirred with in the building. This would do for the night.
The door wouldn’t open easily, ramming her shoulder into it with all force she could muster. Finally it gave way enough for her to slide in quietly. Pushing the door shut behind her, pulling a pen light from her pocket to survey the room. The room was trashed; however it wasn’t of a real concern for her. Pushing through the mess she made her way to a door in the rear of the room. Cautiously cracking it open to see a small bedroom still in relatively good shape.
The air was stale; obviously no one had been here in some time. This would be perfect, a night of sleep in an actual bed would be heaven sent. Setting her ruck sack down, tossing herself down into the bed. The musky smell made her gag for a brief moment, before she finally succumbed to her need for sleep.
The sensation of burning pain ripped through her body ripping her from sleep. Faint whispers of light crept into the window above the bed, her senses bombarded with the scent of smoke, the pain which seemed to originate from her head, and the murky twilight not allowing her eyes to fully see.
“Well… well what do we have here?” A rough male voice came from behind her, sending waves of fear through to her core. Her immediate thoughts jumped to being found by her former husband or his guards. Finally clarity came to her disheveled mind realizing that this voice was not familiar to her.
“Look I am sorry if this is your house, I just stumbled across it last night and no one was home.” She whispered softly, finally feeling him release her. She rolled over to see a large man looming over her. He was middle aged, red hair pulled back in a ponytail with the sides of his head shaved. He looked her up and down with amber eyes, his expression unreadable. She thought he favored android 16.
“Well what is a pretty little thing like you doing in the middle of this hell hole?” He laughed a gentle smile upon his face. She wanted to relax and trust this person, but she knew better than to trust anyone in this new world.
“You know how it is, just trying to find a place to sleep. Keeping away from West City as much as possible, everyone there has literally gone insane.” She sat up, swinging her feet off the bed. Moving to stand, hopefully she could get out of this social interaction in one piece.
“Yeah since that ‘King Vegeta’ took over, nothing has been the same. You should come with me to my camp, just a rag tag group of us trying to survive.” She reluctantly agreed, not wanting to provoke him in any way. At any time once she wasn’t cornered in a room she could escape.
“So what’s your name little lady?” He handed her the tattered bag. “My name is Yajin Lee, I know now a days names are a formality that don’t really have a place, but I still think if I can hold on to a piece of my past it will keep me sane.”
Bulma looked into his face, hardened by this world but his eyes were still soft. She smiled, getting to her feet, “I really can’t say. I don’t really remember much of my past. I woke up a few weeks ago with a nasty gash on my head. I can only remember bits and pieces, important things like where not to go, like West City.”
Yajin accepted her answer. In the world they lived in now, privacy was the last human treasure anyone really had left. He moved to the door, “Well come on. You look hungry, let’s head to camp. It isn’t much but we have food, water, and even a little booze.”
Bulma followed him, not sure what would come of all this. She was not far off from the first Dragon Ball. Maybe she would find safety in numbers for the time being. At this point she have no other choice, it had been almost a week since she last ate.
Her skin was cracking, sun burn blisters oozing precious fluids further dehydrating her. Bulma’s eyes felt dry, sunken in. Each blink felt as though glass were raking over the thin surface. Yajin looked over to her as they walked down the hard clay path. Whatever she had experienced so far seemed to have drained the life from her. She stumbled, her ankle rolling inward.
She sucked in a raspy breath as righted herself, placing very little pressure on her now throbbing ankle. Her brow furrowed, this was the last thing she needed was to be laid up with something like this, it took her nearly a month to recovered from the trauma to her abdomen. She felt herself lift from the ground, looking to Yajin with uncertainty. She attempted to pull away, uncomfortable with his proximity to her.
“Calm down, you can’t keep up and we need to get back.” He said flatly, almost laughing his tone changed. “You aren’t my type anyway.”
Bulma looked to him, puzzled further at his words. She hoped they would be there soon.
“Look, it isn’t that you aren’t pretty…” He paused, a tinge of sorrow, “When the government fell, my partner was killed. He was part of the military force that tried to stand against the assholes that tore the place up.”
Bulma now understood, another life ruined by Vegeta…by her actions.
“I’m sorry…I once had a husband and a son. I can’t remember their names, just can see their faces and know that they are gone.”
Silence surrounded the two as they made their way into camp. Nothing but rugged, dirty men sat around a fire. Bulma could smell the tempting aroma of meat cooking. Damn she was starving; she had forgotten her hunger pains some time ago. Yajin sat her near the flames; they were reaching up to barely lick the hunk of flesh that was roasting.
“Hey Garen, found this one. I lay claim to her.” Bulma was in shock at what she heard, looking to Yajin for clarification. He paid her troubled look no mind. Her stomach dropped, feeling she had made an error in trusting this man.
“That’s fine Yajin, you haven’t gotten your stick wet since you joined us. It is about time you had a little fun.” This Garen fellow was sleazy, the smell of cheap cologne waft her way from him. Apparently he was vain in his appearance. He had his hair greased back and wore a faded suit. He seemed to be the “brains” behind the group.
“Thanks Garen, well if you will excuse me.” Yajin plastered a smile on his thin lips. He picked Bulma up, slinging her over his broad shoulder. Remembering the treatment at the hands of Goku and Gohan, rage boiled up with in her. He brought her into a tent, setting her down on a mound of blankets. Quickly she lunged forward, her fist ready to punch him square in the dick.
He caught her shoulders, holding them firmly. “Calm down.” He was stern, his eyes gentle meeting her rage filled green orbs.
“Look if I don’t pretend that you are now my property, they will tear you up. Just play along for now.”
She relaxed, sighing before clearing her throat. “Look I just don’t like the idea of anyone touching me like that. It is revolting.”
Yajin knew what kind of treatment befell most women in this new dystopia. Not wanting to pry further into what had happened to her. He sat down facing the pallet, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He looked to her, offering. She refused, laying down.
“I haven’t smoked in years, thanks though.”
He smiled, lighting up. He brought it to his lips, taking a long drag. He held the smoke a moment before breathing it out.
“Now get some sleep, don’t worry no one would dare come in and bother you.”
Her dreams a rush with different images. Since this new life had started, when she did dream it was utter chaos. Memories of her family, friends, and happiness only caused her sadness. If only she could have known better and prevented all this from happening.
Yajin watched the small woman, curled up sleeping. He could see her flinch as she dreamt, as if recoiling in fear. He lit another cigarette; the soft glow illuminated the tent enough he could make out the outline of her face. Tears, rivers of tears ran down her face as he saw her twisted expression of pain. She began to whimper, soft words coming from out. Choppy at first and the words unidentifiable.
“No….Vegeta..”
His heart stopped, never had he heard anyone refer to him as anything but King Vegeta. Everyone feared to address him as otherwise even in casual conversation for fear of being slaughtered. He began think back to the bounty messaged that would come across the wire. Could she be the one King Vegeta had promised a large sum for returned to him alive?
He shook her awake, bringing her out of her nightmare. She could see Yajin, his face appeared troubled.
“Are you Bulma Briefs?” He asked in a hushed tone, his grip tightened on her arms.
She hung her head, well now she was caught. It was over. She would be packaged up and returned to Vegeta. Bulma couldn’t bear to think that he would do to her.
“Yes, I am.” She began to cry, “He is my husband. I have been running, searching for a way to fix everything.” He let her go, going to a storage chest.
“You need to disguise yourself more. Stay away from people all together. You need to assume yourself as a man; you will receive a lot less attention this way. Here wrap your chest with these.”
He handed her wads of elastic bandages, before turning away. She lift her shirt and began to wrap her breasts tightly. This made it difficult for her breath deeply, but for the time being she would have to deal with it.
Yajin stuffed rations into her bag along with a long buck knife. “Look you must slip away soon. We are a group of bounty hunters and cannot risk having you here. Look I am just trying to survive; I never wanted to actually help that king.”
Bulma leaned forward, hugging his neck. “Thank you.” She hurried to her feet, her ankle was able to bare weight.
“How’s the ankle?”
“It’s fine. Still hurts but nothing unbearable.”
Garen burst into the tent. Yajin and Bulma, jumping back from the intrusion. His narrow finger pointing to Bulma; staring daggers at Yajin Garen sneered.
“You were gonna let this bitch go? This is the pay day we had been waiting for. King Vegeta will make us all very rich men once she get her back to him. Well all except you Yajin, he will have you killed for conspiring to help her.”
Yajin leapt forward, taking the much smaller Garen down with ease.
“Run.”
She slipped out the back of the tent, hearing the scuffle from behind her. Gun shots echoed from the camp site. Then it was silent. Again like that night she first started running, she never looked back.
Vegeta sat on the balcony, overlooking what remained of West City. He was ready to locate Bulma, place her back under surveillance and move forward with rebuilding this world in his own image. He felt Kakarot behind him.
“My king, we have an update from a band of bounty hunters from North of North City. We have brought the leader here.”
Vegeta motioned to bring the human to speak. Garen was shoved forth, dropping down to his knees. He was careful to advert his eyes.
“King Vegeta, a week ago one of my men located a woman. He laid claim to her and we presumed took her back to his bed with her. Late that night I went to check on them and overhead her admit to being the one known as Bulma.”
Vegeta snarled, glaring at the weak human male. “So why isn’t she here?”
“The one who laid claim to her helped her escape. She has altered her appearance from how the bounty described her, now my King a little monetary compensation would help me with my memory of what she looked like.”
In an instant, Vegeta shot a ki blast, erasing Garen from existence. Kakarot stood in shock.
“My King, his manners were obviously lacking but had you given me a chance, I could have forced him to provide the information.”
Vegeta turned to Kakarot, threatening a second blast. Kakarot dropped to one knee, “Forgive me my King.”
He lowered his hand and left Kakarot to clean up what little dust remained of the fallen human. He knew enough; he knew she was alive.
I am wrapping this fic up, one more chapter and I will be moving on. I am starting another fan fic that will take place after the events of this story. The next story will be more centered around Vegeta's POV (don't worry he isn't an insane bastard). As always thank you for reading, feel free to review/ C&C.
- 6
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- 8
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Flawed Perfection