"Your mother knows me? Am I going to meet her or do I already know her now?"
He looked down a little bit. He was blushing a curious shade of crimson, "Now."
"Oh, wow. I know your mom, huh? That's bizarre. Does she live by me or something?"
"She's standing right there." He pointed.
"Ah!...Bulma's your mother!" Intense surprise, "Wow! Bulma and Vegeta, huh? Unbelievable. I thought Bulma was going to end up marrying Yamucha. But man.. Vegeta?"
"They... don't stay together long. It's uh... more of a passion kinda thing. You know how stubborn they are."
Soft laughter.
"Yamucha and my mother are going to break up. He finds someone else, and my mom? She falls in love with my dad. Of course he can never admit that he loves my mother."
"No shock there. I know them, and man oh man, they're the feistiest two people I know."
"I don't remember my dad, so it's really great to get to see him. He's a bit irate, but it's great to get to meet them... I know it's bizarre, but they will find their way to each other."
What's Love Got to Do With It?
It's just the way you feel sometimes, that empty feeling when you look at the man that you've loved your entire life and realize maybe he's just not the one. Or, she sighed a little bit. She supposed that she really always knew that the moment would come. The woman bit her lip a little bit. 'Perhaps I'm just a tad bit restless...' But she knew better. It was over, and it had been over for a long while. His infidelity didn't really matter. Or perhaps he had been loyal since the last time they decided that they were serious again. She instantly regretted the decision. 'Oh yes, great idea it is now... I thought we were going to get married.' She mused.
"Oh, man." Bulma rubbed her head. She could absolutely feel the headache coming on. He'd been quite successful recently to be honest, the whole baseball thing took a good turn, lots of opportunities, money and fame were coming his way, that was for sure. But it wasn't enough. The spark was gone. It was cruel and harsh to claim she was bored, but more than apparent that she was ready for something new and had in one way or another overlooked it. She then let out a groan in frustration, it really wasn't fair. She looked at the object in her hands with some sort of disdain, 'And a certain rude prince doesn't help my situation very much.'
Her heart squeezed a tad bit, the woman let a few tears cascade out of her lovely cerulean eyes. Things had been going very well lately, she admitted to herself. But something felt as thought it were missing. And this seemed to be a very great and tragic thing to her for a reason she could not place. Inside, she chastised herself. It was good that they could go weeks without fighting, they could speak with civility and not bicker over petty topics. 'It's time to be a big girl. My gut keeps telling me it's over. Just stick with it and be strong.' One of the hardest choices of her life, no doubt. It left her feeling cold on the inside. Even so, a relationship that she'd spent so many tears and nights and just so much effort-it should surely get the extra chance, 'I mean, all relationships have moments like this, don't-'
"Onna! Servant woman! Ugh!"
She flinched at that familiar barking noise. The prince's raspy call, no doubt. She sulked a tad bit, sighing to herself. As she heard him stomp all the closer, Bulma quickly moved to wipe her face with the side of her sleeve. Of all of the irritating...
"Servant woman, respond!"
"What is it, Vegeta?" She snapped, rising from her seat. Could he not treat her with dignity and respect? With annoyance, she blew a lock of hair from her eyes. The curls bounced back. 'I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him...'
"The Gravity Chamber! It needs to be repaired, Woman!"
Bulma huffed a bit. Oh, but doesn't it always? She bit her lip. Since the prince decided to commandeer the machine, all she'd manage to receive in return were many sleepless nights, numerous headaches, and countless fights over how he treated her equipment. It simply baffled the woman as to how he could damage a machine built to withstand awesome power. And even if it was indeed a crazy monkey prince trying to obtain the power to kill Son Gokou, even if, she was irritated to see how quickly the updates fell behind him. His progress was either astonishing or annoying, or perhaps both, but all the same he was constantly griping that it was not enough. She, in her own way, welcomed the feeling of being useful: she provided the updates to train the prince who would save her life. Since the unexpected and unwelcome appearance of a certain Son Gokou's brother, she had been fighting the feeling of uselessness: all of her brilliance seemed to prove to be somewhat unnecessary compared to brute training.
But Vegeta seemed to be quite used to utilizing technology. His appreciation, if you could call it that, was not overlooked but all the same he seemed to be used to a certain standard that he believed she was not living up to. No, of course it had nothing to do with the fact that his power was multiplying by the day or so it seemed, it was simply her fault. It never seemed to register that the creations used while he was in outer space accommodated him well due to a clear difference in his own power. Her machines could have withheld for months or longer if he were on the same level he'd reached before these recent intense training sessions.
It didn't really matter either way. Vegeta's concern was solely becoming stronger and there was no real use in arguing over it. If he needed an update, he did. The problem lied in the fact that the prince wouldn't tell her she needed an update, no he would come barging in after blowing up some sort of crucial circuit to the machine, making the entire process more difficult and time consuming than it ever had to be in the first place. His sheer lack of concern or common sense was beyond irksome. To Bulma's intense disgust, she learned from his ranting that once again the entire machine had been devastated. She would have to work from scratch, meaning another all-nighter.
She felt emotionally drained. Tired, and needing to prepare herself for the on-coming talk with Yamucha. "Perhaps if you could just learn to behave, Vegeta, these things wouldn't happen!"
"Perhaps if you just did as you were told and fixed the damn machine-"
"Perhaps if you would stop breaking-"
And so the fighting would ensue:
"Vegeta, I don't understand why your small little mind can't treat me with just a little bit of respect!"
"Respect! Why would I bother to ever give a weak Earthling servant woman such a-"
"Weak. Earthling. Servant. Woman?" She shrieked, balling her fists.
Vegeta smirked, giving his head a haughty jerk to the side, "Of course. A lowly creature. Unworthy of my-"
"Unworthy! Ooh, you make me so angry! We'll see how unworthy I am when you haven't got any place to stay and train! You just remember you're here because of my good graces and-"
"Hah! Woman, if you were even capable of anything that isn't propelling that terrible squawking noise that comes out of your mouth and preparing my machines, I would be stunned. You're just lucky I haven't decided to waste my energy killing you yet."
"You should count yourself lucky, Vegeta! If we didn't need you to team up to face this threat, you'd be dead meat!"
He glowered in irritation. Oh, one day the woman would come to fear him. He licked his lips in anticipation of the beautiful moment that those large eyes would widen in fear and distress and he would be able to personally extend the news that Kakarotto had been so tragically murdered, at his own hand of course, and now it would be her turn. But he had no time to gloat at the moment, his purpose seeking her out was clear: "You will complete my machine, woman!"
She opened her mouth to continue the argument, but a voice sounded over the both of him. Her blood ran cold, the color drained from her face a little bit as she heard the man lumbering up the stairs to her lab. He'd entered at an awkward moment, Bulma standing with her fists balled at either side of her legs, one dramatically put out, she was leaned towards him. Vegeta's arms were crossed over his chest, he leered at the excited woman before him. "And I thought that it would be... babe?"
The two were quite literally growling at one another from polar sides of the room. She tore her attention from the Saiya-Jin to look at her boyfriend, "Oh. Hey." That was all she could manage towards him. Arguments with the short, irritating man seemed to be by far more productive than the conversation that would take place the second the had a moment alone. She became quiet, shuffling herself together, and Vegeta noticed. His smirk was not missed, at least not by Yamucha.
He flinched a little bit to himself. The human was entirely sure that beneath the air so thick with tension he could practically cut it, there was something going on between the two that he did not like at all. The man projected a smile, "Well I thought we could go to dinner, eh? What do you say?"
Shy and sheepish, she preferred to throw herself into work to avoid him. "Oh, I have..." She glared a bit at the prince, "A lot of work to do. It'll be an all-nighter if I'm lucky." With a smile meant to be apologetic, she shook her head a little bit, "I really can't." And for once she was really rather grateful for the load of complicated work he'd so annoyingly set before her. Vegeta looked as though he were ready to leave, brat that he was. But indeed it was no shock that he easily picked up her discomfort, how readily she accepted the excuse to stay away from him.
'He's going to try to seduce her! I can't believe she doesn't see it! It's so obvious that he's always breaking these machines just to get her attention!' Yamucha, infuriated, sulked to himself. It was so rarely that he got to take her out, and due to her working around the clock to accommodate Vegeta's dangerous needs.. Needs... Yamucha flinched to himself at the very thought of his girlfriend tending to the dark prince's other dark needs. While he had never feared when it came to Gokou, not much of a sexual being at all, something dangerous and masculine about Vegeta's mannerisms gave it all away: he was very much the opposite. He gave the man a glare, and then exited the room. He hated the idea of leaving the two alone, but the look on Bulma's face seemed to be just waiting for him to leave. Only her frustration with Vegeta calmed his nerves.
'It's nothing. Really...'
His lips were teasing her, rubbing up and down, tantalizing, terrible. It sent shivers over her entire body: girlish. Gasping. His teeth brushed against her neck. Arm around her neck. Possessive. Protective. She felt light, weak in his grasp. He was so strong. There was something so infinitely masculine about him. Those muscles, tanned skin, handsome jawline and intense eyes. She felt her knees jerk a little bit. He made her want to give him everything. A kiss, a very soft one. Or at least it was soft at first. But this was him, he was dark and evil: it became more passionate and he let out a growl thick in his throat, that low rumble that had such a great effect on her entire body. Oh, it was so amazing, and his hands were moving, one to cup her breast and the other pushed her closer. Closer closer closer, that was all she cared about. He was giving her this feeling, she was whole now: no, no she was herself but a better version of herself because now she was in his arms, and he made her a bad person, which felt like such a good thing. Oh, she felt him, his tongue flicking against hers, his sharp teeth, his surprisingly soft lips and oh she wanted so much for their clothes to-
She yawned a bit, waking with a jolt. Oh, they always end when they get good, that's the terrible part about dreams. She stretched a bit, checking the clock, cracking her knuckles, "Alright, Vegeta... Let's see what you've done."
Despite the look of competence and control on her face, her mind was still flooded with convoluted thoughts. So confusing. There is always a logical reason for everything, she reasoned, and perhaps this was nothing more than mere symbolism: Vegeta representing, of course, her desire for something dangerous and new, and the softness to him... well, clearly that was her desire to tame a beast, and the kiss... well, she wasn't particularly interested in a relationship, so a kiss couldn't mean any sort of romance. But... she sighed a little bit, but it was heavier than it meant to be. Thinking about him, she felt a somewhat confusing jolt in her chest, but she brushed it off.
She hated Vegeta. It was quite apparent. He was arrogant, irritating, self-absorbed, rude, a murderer, vindictive, cruel, obsessive, ridiculous, impatient, and above all else he seemed to believe that she was his personal servant.
Yamucha was glowering at the prince. It was one of the few times that he had the pleasure of seeing the Saiya-Jin with his hair down. He'd showered and was sitting at the table. His appetite was Saiya-Jin, sure as Hell was, but there was something much more alert about his mannerisms as he ate. He was very tense, as if prepared to stop at any moment. He was listening, to everything. 'Paranoia.' Yamucha scoffed. Vegeta glared up at him, the human flinched, coughed, and looked to the side. He crossed his arms around his chest, leaning against the wall. What an awkward moment.
"There's something about Bulma, huh?" He began, as though speaking to an old friend, "She's so loyal to me. After all of these years, I am the only one she will ever care about. You know when I died-"
"You mean when my little green lackeys killed you." Vegeta snorted.
"She went to the planet Namek to get the Dragon-balls just for me. It's crazy, that a girl would go to the other side of the universe just to save my life. Makes you feel like a real man. I think I might ask her to marry me one of these days... yeah, I'll have her marry me." He was half-talking to himself at this point, "We'll have a family and everything. She loves me, it's apparent."
An unconcerned Vegeta remained silent, more or less irritated. He was glaring at his food, he seemed to be twitching in some sort of intense anger. What was most surprising was the fact that he had not yet moved to kill him yet. Vegeta didn't care about those petty human affairs. He didn't want to be friends. A low growl came out of his throat. A warning, of course. Leave, it seemed to shout. He clearly despised Yamucha. Found him weak and irritating. An ant compared to him. Useless, unworthy of his presence. And yet he was enduring the moron's prattling on about things that he did not care about.
Yamucha made haste to get to his point, "I want you to stay away from her, Vegeta, at all costs." He'd half blurted this out, a quick sentence, he used one breath and then held the oxygen in his lungs. He wanted to squeeze his eyes shut, but he was already blinded by fear as Vegeta seemed to be blinded by outrage and anger.
But he became very suddenly, frighteningly calm. Vegeta, quite amused that Yamucha was so absurdly, stupidly jealous that he scoffed. Yamucha glared, cocking a brow at the prince who responded with a slight laugh, "I have no need and no desire to be with such a stupid woman."
"Bulma is a wonderful person!" Yamucha shot back, balling his fist and clinching his jaw. Vegeta would not insult her. He wouldn't let him. He wanted to bring up Gokou, say that he would pulverize him completely and totally. No one, absolutely no one would approve of any sort of interaction between the two. And she? She wouldn't know any better. Yamucha knew Bulma. The woman loved a challenge, she loved the dark side of things and she tended to go to places that a beautiful young woman ought not venture to. Things would get out of hand, and no amount of money or brilliance could save her from a monster like Vegeta.
Vegeta made it clear that he was completely and totally disinterested in the discussion, and he would not insult himself by wasting time and energy fighting over such an idiotic, confusing little woman. "I'd hate to be rude, but I'm not interested in bonding with you, you fool. If anyone needs to stay away from anyone, perhaps it is you that should steer clear away from me. If you irritate me..." He punctuated the thought with a growl, snarling at the man standing before him.
Slightly afraid, Yamucha exited. Vegeta continued eating. He would have to tell the stupid woman that she had better keep her irritating little mate away from him or he would kill the both of them just for wasting his time.
The following morning, he returned and immediately he could hear the battle cries that were Bulma and Vegeta fighting. It was slightly ridiculous that the two always had to cause such an uproar. Some part of him resented the fact that at least Vegeta inspired some sort of feelings out of Bulma. It seemed that as the days passed the woman offered less and less attention and affection. And what was worse, she was concerned about him:
"You're not talking care of yourself, Vegeta!"
"Stay out of it, Woman!"
"You don't sleep, you're not resting, you're not eating properly or consistently-you'll die before the androids even get to you if this keeps up!"
"Onna!" He bellowed.
"I'm not going to keep letting you do this to yourself! If you die before they get here, this entire ordeal will have been of no use to me! You numb-skull!"
Vegeta growled, "Woman, you will address me with-"
"I can't believe that you can be so immature-"
"-or I will kill you-"
"You wouldn't d-"
"You weak little Earthling woman-"
"Weak. Little. Earthling. Woman!" Bulma shouted in outrage, curling her first, red in the face, "Well this weak little woman has only kept you here out of her good graces and you should remember that! You don't have anywhere else to go! You're living off of charity, Buddy, and you had better remember it!"
Naturally, any pure-blooded prince would resent being referred to as charity work. Vegeta's jaw clinched dangerously tight, it was one of the moments where the room got too quiet and it was all too apparent to the on-looking Yamucha that Bulma had crossed a line: his pride. That was the button you could not push. That was the place you could not touch. Even so, in her state of indignation... it baffled Yamucha, how she seemed to not care at all. Although she knew full well that in the time that Vegeta had managed to maim and murder her, Gokou would just barely be learning of the brutal ordeal. He could kill Vegeta or worse, it was true, and he could even wish the woman back, but he could not turn back the hands of time.
Vegeta didn't have to say anything, but though her mouth was quieted, she had not yet backed down. Yamucha bit his lip and trudged in, if nothing else figuring he could provide something of a distraction, "Bulma.. hey, Bulma? Do you want to go to lunch or something?"
The room was so full of tension he could have very well cut the air with a knife. Inwardly, he sighed. This was the way that his life had to be, breaking apart their fights. Bulma bit her lip, snorted in Vegeta's direction, and turned away from both men. Vegeta's glare sharpened and faced Yamucha's direction. There was a very sudden moment when each understood the other's methods very clearly: Yamucha had taken away Vegeta's temporary entertainment (as annoying as she was, the verbal bouts were really something, and the woman-though confusing and irritating and stupid, was quite amusing when she was angry) and the man cringed, knowing that in one way or another the shorter man would do anything he could to pay him back for interrupting the show one time too many.
He had been humiliated for the very last time. He grinned a bit to himself, flexing his gloved hand, and after all, he had made Kakarotto a great promise, a vow, a prince's word and he could not and would not break it. No, he would take everything away. He would destroy everything of any sort of significance to him. He would not be bested. Vegeta grit his teeth as he thought back to that day, the fateful afternoon where the sun glared down at the two in defiance and their destinies would forever become entwined. Infuriated, sick with hatred and anger, Vegeta was nearly blinded by his own rage. It made him sick that some third class fool, no tail (which was such a crucial thing on the planet, some women even rejected certain mates due to inadequate tails) that rejected his own heritage and yet decided to attribute his strength to petty Earth training. It so baffled him, completely and entirely, how he, the prince, the great and chosen one, could be bested by third class swine.
It was almost devastating that such a fool... he rejected the greatness of the Saiya-Jins! Vegeta, born and bred to feel intense pride, to acknowledge the accomplishments, the strengths, that glory and make it his own! And then a fool that had barely been formidable to a weakling... It made no sense to him at all. He had been trained among the elite all of his life. The fool was playing around with Earthlings and their planet with its ridiculously low gravity level... how could this have ever happened?
He needed to feel blood. He absolutely had to taste Kakarotto's blood. Oh, he would indeed, he would kill him and he would love every second of it.
The fact that he could catch up, could surpass, it drove Vegeta to breaking point. The prince would not accept this defeat. He would not be broken, he would not allow the fool to win this. The fight would be epic, and the victory would be glorious. The androids would only be an extension of his training. The woman would never understand this. Insipid creature. The only thing that Vegeta could truly sport was the fact that he had more stamina than the third class fool had, for after the dramatic clashing of their power waves, both were alive, but one had no energy at all. Had he attacked him head on, risked the death for he too was nearly to that point instead of seeking the power of the transformation, he would have won the fight.
Next time... He grinned to himself, a maniacal, cruel grin and his body shook with glee, next time he would fight. Both had surely become stronger. He would have to surpass. He would have to learn to handle more physical stress than ever imagined. It was his duty and responsibility and birthright to be the last man standing. Oh, punishment would be slow and he would not stop until he heard the high pitched squeal that Kakarotto would so rarely let out when in intense agony..
One would emerge victorious.
He sighed a little bit to himself. She was standing there with some sort of complex device of technological glory by her. He was a bit amused to see her grunting between grit teeth about "stupid monkey" this or "arrogant, cocky bastard" that. Her hand was practically shaking, making the movements of the screwdriver seem far more dangerous. Inwardly, he flinched to notice that whatever it was (and while it looked highly complicated he was so sure that it was very simple in its nature) it belonged to Vegeta. One of his many training aids. He envied those. He had to beg her from time to time to build him training supplies. No, she was always too busy, too this or too that, or she was angry at him and refused to out of spite. But regardless of the fights, Vegeta's updates came. Regularly.
And the Gravity Chamber.. why, he wanted so badly to play with it. To feel what it would be like. So crucial, to Gokou's, to Vegeta's, even Piccolo's strength! That weight could make all the difference: heighten his speed, technique, his sense and make his blows keen, sharper. Didn't she want him to be successful as well? The man sighed to himself and quieted the complaints. It was unfair to blame Bulma, when thinking about it. Yamucha was responsible for his own training, and he would train with Krillin and Roshi at the Kame House on the island.
Immediately upon seeing Yamucha, Bulma let out her arsenal of insults, "I cannot believe how stubborn he is! Of all of the idiotic, selfish, arrogant villains we have come across in all of these years not only is he the most careless, but he's also just flat out rude!"
'Did you expect him to be... well, prince charming?' Yamucha entertained the thought but hid the small smile from his face as she continued to prattle along about the many faults and flaws of his pal Vegeta.
"And he's not even half as sinister as he pretends he is! He's just a big baby! A spoiled child! It's so ridiculous, that no one ever stands up to him. Why can't you stop being such a pansy?" Yamucha flinched a little bit as she tilted her head at him, but she had already moved off of that topic, "I mean, it's just so absolutely insane. And it's so clear that he's living off of Gokou's good graces as well as mine. I mean, he expects me to bow down to him and call him master but all the same how many times have we all saved his scrawny ass?"
"Well, I, uh, I dunno, Bulma..." The man traced circles in the air with his fingers, avoiding her hard blue gaze. He could stare tyrant and villain and so many other powerful foes straight in the eye but something about the way that she glared at him sent a chill down his spine and he felt so insanely unsafe, unstable, so fearful for a reason he could not entirely place. She was clearly a powerful woman in her own right, but for the most part all she could do was yell and that was known to all. Even so, it never felt that way. She had some control over all of them, and even, of course, to some extent, Vegeta. He could practically envision her putting a leash around the arrogant Saiya-Jin's neck and walking him around like a puppy, some sort of exotic pet. Heh. Heh. The assertiveness, that aggression in her nature, it was daunting.
To Yamucha's dismay, she had mentioned the very thing that he feared most. "...But he is a great kisser."
"Eh!" He let out something between a grunt and a yelp. His eyes widened in horror, his mouth open wide. He stared, dumbly in her direction.
She began, as she would from time to time when she became nervous, to twirl her curly cerulean locks about her pale, manicured fingers. She would not look at him, instead she watched a monitor off to the side vaguely, and quickly after his interjection she amended with a slight stammer to her tone, "Well, or at least I would think he would be. At least, in dreams he is."
His jealousy was nearly blinding, "You've been dreaming about... about that monster? Bulma, this isn't a romance novel! He's dangerous!" His voice was unnaturally high pitched. "I mean, aside from the fact that he's small and ugly and he's practically Gokou's rag doll, I mean, look at his hair! It's ridiculous! And all he ever does is train, I'm sure that doesn't smell pleasant! Besides, he's, oh, I don't know, killed me and he'd do it again if he had half the chance. He's sadistic as can be, he's worse than any of the others that we've ever met! I mean, the man is pure evil. There is nothing that would delight that maniac more than to see us all dead and the whole planet along with it! And I for one, Bulma, am not going to let that happen! I would choose to stand and protect you, even if I would lose, just because I guess I'm not the pansy that you think I am! But you, you taunt him and you just want to ensure that he kills you in the most terrible way possible! I'm sure he'd rape you and then dismember you if he could, just to hear your screams! I mean, do you remember how things were when we first met him? I was there, Bulma! There's that look in his eyes, it's always there, that look that says he's just waiting for the perfect moment to wreck havoc! People like that don't change. I don't know what's up with Gokou, but trusting him is such a terrible idea. And you, you let him into your house! Every single day you push aside your personal safety. We're all at risk. And gods forbid, what if he does become stronger than Gokou due to all this training you let him go through? And furthermore, Bulma, I mean oh, I don't know, aside from the fact that he's evil which must be truly alluring I'm sure, he's arrogant and he's got the greatest case of inferiority complex I've ever seen in my entire life! How could you ever possibly care about someone so insecure he's got to constantly treat the people he's around like shit just to elevate himself to a higher level. Real mature." He was twitching now, scoffing, and part of him as every word came out was waiting for her interruption. The delivery was awkward as he choked and stuttered on words, between trying to reason him out and trying to insult him.
"Hn... I think he's just lonely.." She said, quite wistfully indeed. It was so odd of her. He'd just gone off, shouting and carrying on and she was not in the least bit angry.
"No, Bulma, he's not! He's-"
"And what's up with you anyway?" Bulma cocked a brow at him, "Why do you care?"
"Bulma-I-really-need-to-know-right-now-if-you-love-him." There. He said it. He'd blurted it out in half a breath, not even able to look in the general direction of the woman that was once his lover. He stuffed his hands in his pocket, blushing violently. They could be so much more. He was intending on tying the knot with her, at some point... one day... maybe even a family somewhere in the distant future...
His trail of thought was cut off by Bulma's bitter laughter. And then, she sighed a bit, placing her hands in her lap after setting the object in her hand to the side. It was still, disregarded, and so she began with a deep breath. Now or never. "Yamucha... we've been together for a really long time, huh? I mean, even when we'd broken up or we were fighting, I mean I don't know about you but we'd always still felt to claim some sort of possession over one another. Am I right?" He gave a little nod, unnerved at the course of the conversation. He could feel it in his bones and he knew that it was not good. The man braced himself for the coming words, "I just think that... well, I've given you something really special. A very important part of my life and my heart belongs to you. But all the same, I think that..." And then he heard soft sniffling.
"Hey," He said in a gentle tone, stooping over to give her a hug. She returned, holding him to her as tightly as she could. He could feel her body racking and her chest heaving up and down through the tears. Some part of him registered the fact that tears meant hesitance which meant that some part of her was unwilling to let them go which meant there was still a chance.. still a chance... "Don't cry. I'm here for you. You know it... I mean..."
"I'm so sorry..." She managed through her sobs, "I just think we should be friends."
"I'm not going to let this go! I'm going to be strong for both of us. Yeah, sometimes we have our fights and our doubts, but I mean-"
She let out a groan, like an animal in some sort of great pain. The decision was hard. She wanted very much to look him in the eye and actually feel the things for him that he had once before. There was something pained and desperate about his eyes, wide and whole. His mouth formed a little "o." Neither missed the fact that he was shaking.
Numb, numb, numb.
"Bulma, hey... if you're crying... I mean, doesn't that mean that-something? This is your choice. You're doing this to yourself. Come on, stop being silly now. I love you."
She shook her head, pushing him away a bit. His heart wrenched at the feeling as he watched her, confused, hurt, even a tad bit angry, "It's just not easy!" She exclaimed, hugging herself a little bit. She bit her lip, looking to the side, "I need..." And then she summoned all the strength and courage that she could, "I just think I need to be single for a little while."
"If... if that's how you feel, Bulma. But I'm not going to let this go. You're the most important person in my life. You're the one I'm fighting for, don't you see that? I don't care about the planet! I don't care about what happens to me or to Gokou or the world as we know it! I love you. I'm fighting for you, to protect you and our future! To preserve this! You can't let this die! I think I'd go insane if -"
"Stop..." Her voice was very soft. She let out some sort of sigh once again, "Yamucha, no. There's no more... I mean... I don't..." She looked to the side, "Please, just go." Her voice was a hoarse whisper. And Yamucha, feeling a deadening feeling deep in his chest, knew it to be true.
There was no next round to rely on this time. Both felt... numb.
There will be five parts to this story.
-CL