Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ A Dark Heart ❯ A Defeated Warrior ( Chapter 1 )

Bulma entered the bath tub slowly and laid down, closing her eyes and sighing in relief. This was just what she needed after a long day filled with obligations in the lab and taking care of her little boy. A soft smile played across her lips when she thought of how big Trunks was getting. He was already crawling all over the place, proudly displaying the evidence of his Saiyan heritage through his unusual strength. The heiress was sure that her child would be walking in no time.

Time really did fly…

As she allowed the hot water to work its magic and relax her exhausted muscles, she couldn't help but frown slightly…

Mirai Trunks.

He'd departed only a week ago, and the image of her son from the future remained still freshly imprinted in her mind. Deep down, she wasn't extremely concerned about his safety, knowing how much stronger he'd become during the time he'd shared with them, fighting alongside the Z Warriors and training with his father in the Room of Spirit and Time. Still, a mother's love was a mother's love, and she couldn't help but feel a tinge of worry within her heart. She exhaled shakily again, reminding herself that she was just being silly, and that everything would be all right in the end.

She grabbed a sponge and a vanilla scented soap bar and delicately lathered up her legs as she softly hummed Trunks' favorite lullaby, smiling as she did. Who would have thought she'd end up becoming a mother? Bulma Briefs, the precocious little genius who'd been seeking adventure all over the world since she was a young teenager, was now facing motherhood, the greatest challenge of her life. Even though she desperately hoped she was doing a good job, she still couldn't help the doubts that crippled her mind at times, especially considering she was practically on her own. She knew she had no right to complain, after all, she had her parents, who were spoiling that boy rotten and, of course, she possessed more money than she could spend in a lifetime. Nonetheless, there was an essential figure that was missing right now in Trunks' life: a father.

Vegeta.

Where the Hell was he?

Every time she thought she knew what to expect from him, he'd surprise her all over again.

Bulma painfully recalled Vegeta's behavior on the day Mirai Trunks left, taking a deep breath as her eyes burned with unshed tears, barely managing to refrain from crying over that selfish bastard again.

She could still remember the private moment father and son had shared. The proud Prince, dressed in human clothes, silently saying goodbye to the younger warrior. Her curious mind couldn't help but wonder about the meaning behind the mysterious hand sign they exchanged. Was it perhaps a Saiyan symbol? She knew Vegeta would never tell her, and yet, in that instant, she'd been incredibly happy to see some kind of intimate connection between the two people who meant the most to her in the entire world.

Bulma could only hope that their child meant something to Vegeta. Of course, at the beginning she'd had her doubts, but then Yamcha had related the story of how angry the Prince had gotten when he'd witnessed his son die, and how he'd attacked Cell with a fury her ex-lover had never previously seen in the Saiyan warrior. It must have really been something if the scarred-faced fighter had chosen to disclose that information to her. After all, she was well aware of the fact that Yamcha had never been too fond of Vegeta to begin with.

She dropped the sponge and laid her head down wearily once more.

As it turned out, poor Yamcha hadn't been the one for her, after all. Now it was almost hard to remember how damn sure she'd been when she was younger and she'd wanted to wish for a perfect boyfriend using the Dragon Balls. Her first encounter with the desert bandit had felt like destiny back then, and they'd certainly tried hard to make things work through the years. She'd been so close to marrying him after Goku opened his silly big mouth on the day of Mirai Trunks' first visit. He'd wished her a `healthy and strong child' and her ex-boyfriend had taken it as a sign that perhaps they should settle down and have, in his own words, `a couple of kids together'. After giving it some serious consideration, Bulma had given in to his wishes, rejecting his marriage proposal, but agreeing to the idea of conceiving a child.

Not only it didn't happen, but during the first of the three years they'd been waiting for the arrival of the deadly androids, she slowly found herself falling for Vegeta.

Bulma sighed in despair again.

She really knew how to pick them, didn't she?

Then again, it made perfect sense somehow. He was a proud Saiyan Prince, and she was a strong woman who was practically royalty herself in her world. It was madness, but it worked, or so she'd thought at one point.

The day Mirai Trunks had returned to his timeline, Bulma had truly believed, if only for a fleeting moment, that Vegeta was going to stay on Earth. It'd given her a glimpse of hope seeing him saying goodbye to their son, dressed in human clothing and silently staring at their baby boy when he thought she wasn't looking but, merely a couple of hours after her son's departure, he left without so much as a goodbye.

That had been a week ago, and there was still no sign of him.

The space ship remained firmly planted on Capsule Corp. ground, so there was no way he'd gone into space or, at least, that's what she desperately wanted to believe. Her man was so full of surprises that he might as well have some secret ship of his own hidden somewhere. Still, Bulma thought it was very possible that her Prince was just brooding somewhere on the planet, perhaps trying to come to terms with the fact that he was now one of them. Not just a warrior, but also the father of a lavender haired baby boy who needed him and the guidance only he could provide.

Bulma stood up slowly and proceeded to rinse herself, carefully getting out of the tub and grabbing a warm fluffy towel, wrapping it around her naked form. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror, gently combing her wet hair and allowing herself a brief moment of vanity.

`Not bad Bulma Briefs,' she thought melancholically to herself. `You can still have any man you want'. But she knew, deep down, the undeniably painful truth: she didn't want just any man, and she wasn't even sure if the man she wanted, the man she'd fallen in love with, wanted her back.

She swallowed a thick lump in her throat as she left the bathroom, turning the lights off and walking in the dark, humming her little boy's lullaby again as the city lights dimly illuminated her bedroom from the distance. Bulma visited Trunks' room one final time, just to make sure everything was okay, and she stood by the baby's crib, clad only in her white towel, and staring at him. The entire house was asleep, and all she could hear was the soft breathing of her little love as she caressed his cheek delicately, smiling when his tiny lips pouted sweetly in his sleep. After making sure the baby monitor was working properly, she walked back into her bedroom.     

And then she saw him.

As she entered the room, she quickly had to refrain from yelling in a brief rush of panic. There, sitting on her bed, was the figure of a man. He was hunched over, his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground.

An image she'd never even thought possible...

Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, looking like a defeated man.

“Vegeta?” she whispered.

There was no reply.

Carefully, she started to walk towards him and, all of a sudden, she perceived some movement.

The warrior raised his head slowly and looked right into her eyes.

She looked back and, what she saw, shattered her heart into a million pieces…