Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Another Life ❯ Bulma's Story ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or any of the characters seen in the show, manga, movies, etc. But Vegeta is just a little obsession of mine…(lights candles on shrine and takes out the goat's blood)

A/N: Hey guys! Alright, here is Bulma's story. You guys have been real patient with me about the way I'm organizing the chapters. I know, I know….where's Vegeta, right? Well, I promise his story is coming up next, and then everybody's lives will start to merge and…well hopefully we'll get some good old fashion angst in here! I just want to remind you again, this is a B/V so just be a little more patient with me and I promise it will be worthwhile. Oh and by the way, I have spring break coming up, which means I won't be near a pc with the net for some time so…I'll make a deal with you. I'll post two chapters when I get back if I get enough reviews while I'm gone. I am a total review whore, so I want reviews, I need reviews, I LOVE REVIEWS!!!! If I don't get a lot of reviews, I'll still post, but just not as quickly (vengeful little bitch, aren't I?). But I do appreciate the reviews I've already got. Thanks for the support, guys! Well, if you haven't already fallen asleep yet, enjoy…

** Words in Saiyago (Saiyan Language)

Chapter 2-Bulma's Story

Bulma sat with her legs pulled up against her chest, her head resting atop her knees while she watched the exotic birds move about the shore of the shimmering, sunlit lake. This was one of the only beautiful things left in her life. The lake had become her refuge when the agony of her newly acquired life became too much for her to bear. It was so unfair, she thought to herself. She had been one of the richest and most prestigious women on her planet, and now she was reduced to a lowly house slave. "Life sure is grand," she said dryly to herself, tossing her long aqua-blue hair out of her face and gazing up at the clear, azure sky. This planet almost reminded her of her home planet Chikyuu. Its skies were just as blue, and the terrain was more or less the same with its equal mixture of rolling hills, ice-capped mountains, and vast, wide plains. The only difference was that this planet seemed so…untouched. Since she had been here, she had seen nothing but forestry and land. Besides the house she resided in, the surrounding wilderness seemed to be unadulterated. She had no idea how far the nearest town was, or if there was even a town close by at all. She felt cut off and utterly alone, even while living with the numerous other servants and mistress of the house.

Bulma had lost track of the days. She wasn't used to the way this planet counted their time. Their days were much longer than that of Chikyuu and she had been told that there were certain days where there would be no night at all. It was all just so confusing. Under normal circumstances, she would have been thrilled to learn about an alien timetable and calendar, but now that her life had become a living hell, she had barely paid attention to such minor details.

Bulma stood up reluctantly and looked over the water one last time. She had better get back before the guests for the party arrived. Mistress Drudilia had ordered every servant to be present exactly a half an hour before the party was scheduled to start. The kitchen slaves had slaved (no pun intended) away for most of the day preparing the extravagant menu that the Mistress had been so adamant about having. Bulma did not envy them. She had been assigned to kitchen duty shortly after she had arrived as a slave to the household. After several days of beating the blue-haired slave for disobedience, the Mistress soon realized that Bulma's lack of skills were not due to stubbornness. Bulma had managed to set fire to the kitchen at least twice in the few days she had been a kitchen slave, while also accidentally serving soup with enough spice in it to send the Mistress into a coughing fit. Bulma just had a natural aversion to cooking. When the Mistress was able to speak again, she ordered Bulma out of the kitchen once and for all. Her duty now consisted of cleaning the Mistress' rooms, serving dinner to the Mistress and her guests, and unpacking the boxes left by the supplies ship. She enjoyed the last duty more than the others because occasionally she was able to steal a few items for herself. She hid them away in a spot near the lake, waiting for the day when she would be able to prepare a more organized escape plan.

Walking languidly back in the direction of the house, she began to think back to the unhappy day when her life had changed forever.

Flashback

She had just gotten back from a board meeting with the heads of various departments who worked at Capsule Corporation, her multi-billion dollar science research and technology company. Capsule Corp. had been behind every major scientific development on Chikyuu since her father had started running it. When he had turned the reins over to her, she had made it into a prosperous and profitable company that had made her and her family rich and famous worldwide. She had been the youngest billionaire to date. Her life might have been hectic and a little empty without the time or patience for friends, but she had financial security and success that was unparalleled with anyone else on the planet.

Even Yamucha, the man she had paid to pose as her stand-in boyfriend, had had to make an appointment with her secretary to break off their "relationship" because he couldn't handle her stressful and strenuous schedule. Bulma had been greatly upset at Yamucha's resignation. She had liked the guy and he had made her laugh, something not many people could do. But she had to admit, she had noticed significant changes in him since their first meeting. Where he used to be fun and out-going, he became closed off and possessive. Twice she nearly had to fire him for losing control his temper; once because Bulma had invited an old high school flame to spend the night in her room one evening and a second time when Bulma had a one-night stand with the head of a once rival company that Capsule Corp. had decided to merge with. She realized that Yamucha's feelings for her had taken on an almost obsessive nature. She had distanced herself more and more from him, not really having the heart to fire him because they had had so many good times together. Then Yamucha came into her office with a signed resignation stating that he could no longer be her puppet and that if he were to ever live a normal life, he would have to leave. She had accepted his resignation in the end, treating him like the employee he was and ultimately and irrevocably breaking his heart. She would not allow herself to feel bad.

Bulma allowed the warm water to course down her back as she rested her forehead against the cool tiles of the shower wall. Her board meeting had been excruciatingly long. A bunch of aged yuppies trying to tell her how to run her company. She was tempted to just fire them all and hire monkeys to take their place. At least monkeys wouldn't tell her how to do her job. Bulma shut off the shower and grabbed a towel. First she would get a quick bite to eat, and then she would call her parents to see how they were doing. She thought about it for a second and decided against it. Her mother was probably doing a photo shoot. Mrs. Viviane Briefs didn't let the married life interfere with her active modeling career. Bulma's youthful-looking model mother was always on the go, her homely looking husband always trailing behind her. Since he had given Bulma control of the company, he had been tagging along with her mother to her shoots, helping her with this and that and keeping a wary eye on her open admirers. Bulma chuckled to herself as she thought of the unlikely couple. Her mother was tall, graceful and utterly beautiful, with a head full of luxurious blond hair, cobalt blue eyes and the IQ of a toaster. Her genius of a father was short and stocky, with thinning white hair and cheerful brown eyes. Bulma was grateful for the traits each had given her: her father his intellect and her mother her beauty. She still had trouble believing sometimes that these complete opposites were her parents. They loved each other immensely, but Bulma frequently noticed her father's agitation at his wife's stupidity. Bulma made a mental note never to marry anyone based on looks.

Bulma sighed deeply and fell back gracelessly onto her sofa. The shower had been relaxing, but her mind was still reeling from all the numbers that had been thrown at her during the board meeting. She would make sure the rest of this afternoon was uneventful. She had just situated herself on the couch and was reaching for the TV remote when she heard the low, wailing scream of the warning sirens. She sat up and glanced out the window, a confused look crossing her features. The midday sun was out and the blue sky was flawless, with not even a shadow of a cloud. Besides, they didn't get tornadoes in West Capitol, so what was the deal? She was just about to move towards the phone to find out what the commotion was about when she felt a resounding rumble shudder through the house. At first, she thought that there must be trouble in the lab, seeing as though her house was connected to side of the Capsule Corp. laboratory. But the rumble had come from the far unattached side of her house. What was happening? She got her answer when a gaping hole was blasted into the ceiling of her living room. Bulma ran to dodge the falling debris as large chunks of ceiling and dust rained down on her. She quickly made her way to the undamaged side of the room and looked up at the bright sunlight that streamed through her once unbroken ceiling.

Through the dust, she could see figures poised at the edge of the hole. They were men; of that she was certain because they were of gigantic proportions. Bulma ducked under a covered table when it looked as though one of the men was about to jump down. She huddled into a ball on the floor, trying to make herself as small as possible and listened for the sound of feet hitting the floor. It never came. She peeked out from under the cloth on the table and nearly gasped aloud in shock at the sight she saw. The man was hovering in the air! There were no cables or ropes connected to him. How was this possible? The wheels in her mind turned at breakneck speeds as she went through every possible way the man in front of her could keep himself suspended in the air. Her thoughts were interrupted as three other men floated down into the room.

The first of the four men towered over the others, his long hair falling down his back in a mass of black spikes. The hard line of his jaw and sharp, angular features demanded respect, not to mention his massive chest and tree-sized biceps. He looked about the room as the others joined him. He seemed to be taking in every detail, his eyes resting on one thing for only a second before darting over to something else. The other men who joined him had similar black hair and faces, although they were not nearly as big as the first man.

At the moment, the observant intruder was looking in Bulma's direction, but didn't seem to see her. Bulma barely breathed, her mind racing to figure out some sort of plan before her hiding place was discovered. Her ki blaster was upstairs, but there would be no way to get to it as long as they invaded her living room. She wasn't even sure if her ki blaster would work on these seemingly super human giants. I wonder if these men were the reason the sirens went off? she thought to herself. There might be more of them outside. She decided right then and there that if she were given the opportunity, she would run for it and take her chances outside. She didn't like to be cooped up, and she knew that eventually, if the men started to look around, they would find her.

The first man, whom Bulma assumed was the leader, began yelling at the others in a strange language. The other men mumbled something to one another, and began walking in different directions. Bulma watched the men heading off into to different wings of her house. What were they looking for? The tall, authoritive man stood with his back straight and his arms crossed over his chest, still observing the room. Bulma stayed as still as possible. With the others gone, the room was practically noiseless except for the sound of distant explosions in the background. She wondered if more men like these were blasting into other people's house and terrifying the living daylights out of them. She didn't know why, but she was sure that if she was found, something terrible was going to happen.

Bulma tried to moved into a sitting position that was more comfortable, considering that she was unsure of how long she would be staying there. As long as she didn't make a sound, she had a chance of escaping when that big boar of a man standing in front of her left. As if on cue, the clasp of her bracelet caught onto the linen covering the table as she moved, pulling the cloth down along with everything else on top of the table. The man's head snapped over to her direction, and he was on her before she could even scramble out from under it. He flipped the table over to the side, splintering it from the force he exerted on it, and exposing a scared and shaking Bulma curled up against the wall.

"Please," she pleaded. Maybe the man would have pity on her and let her go. The man swiftly reached down grabbed both of her wrists with one hand and yanked her off of the ground, her feet dangling in the air before she could even blink. She looked into his dark eyes, unaware of the tears trickling down her face. "Don't hurt me."

The sudden look of surprise on his face didn't confuse her as much as what he did next. The man reached out and touched her cheek with the pad of his thumb and pulled it back to examine the moisture that clung to it. She had tried to pull away from his touch, but she could barely move while he was holding her in the air like he was. She shivered as he mumbled something in that deep voice of his, the sound of his rich foreign language reverberated in her ears. She stared at him wide-eyed and her mouth open, slightly shaking her head to let him know she didn't understand him. All of a sudden he tilted his head back and bellowed something to the other men. They came in a matter of seconds, stopping short when they saw what their leader was holding. Two of the men looked at each other and snickered, while the other allowed his eyes to travel up and down her form with open interest. The man holding her called out an order of some sort and the men, with obvious looks of disappointment, turned back around and left the room.

Her captor let go of her wrists and set her on the floor, looking down at her with a sort of half smile playing on his lips. She looked at him warily, trying to decide if his smile held a hint of malice. Before she could think further, he grabbed her around the waist, pulling her close and lifted into the air, flying directly through the hole in the ceiling. Bulma struggled at first, trying to free herself before he took her too high in the air. Her attempts were pitiful in the least, and the man's hold on her never loosened. She quit shortly after, drained of her strength and too afraid to try anything else this high up. She looked down and gasped as she saw parts of the city on fire and rubble everywhere. Half of West Capitol was destroyed and there were even more "super men" rounding up groups of people and ushering them into strange hovercrafts of some kind.

After what seemed like a half an hour of flying over the ruined city, the large man swooped down and landed next to a large spacecraft. Who were these people? She had never seen anything like the machinery exhibited in the ship and although it piqued her curiosity, she was even more concerned with the reasons of why she was there. Bulma resumed her struggling as the man who held her prisoner started to drag her towards the ship. She was concentrating so hard on freeing her hand that she didn't notice him pull her through the automatic sliding door and down a series of hallways until it was too late. When she regained her senses, she noticed that the room they had stopped in resembled a laboratory. She spotted a man bent over a complicated mass of metal and wires and noticed one of her company's products lying next to it on the table. A capsule. The invention her company was named after. It looked as though it had been taken apart and carefully studied, judging by the organized way the parts had been laid on the table. But why? Anyone on Chikyuu could simply buy the manual and read about the components that made up the tiny capsule for themselves. Why not watch the free video that came every Capsule Corp. capsule?

The older man sitting at the table looked up, his eyes meeting Bulma's blue ones and then glancing expectantly at the man next to her. He was just as handsome as her captor and just as big, but his eyes held a hint of higher intelligence in them. I'll have a better chance explaining myself to him, Bulma thought. If only she could get him to understand her. The older man stood from his place at the table and walked up to them, stopping directly in front of Bulma and looking down at her. He gave the man next to her a questioning look.

* Where did you get her? *

* I found her in the place we were told to look for the capsule technology. She was hiding. * The younger looked down at Bulma as he spoke and gave her a lopsided grin.

* Well, what is she doing here? *

* I came to ask you if I could keep her. *

* Out of the question. *

* Why? *

The man standing in front of Bulma sighed rather loudly and glared down at her. Bulma cringed and took a step back, unfortunately right into the hard, expansive chest of her kidnapper. He pulled her up against him, holding her arms on either side.

* You know the rules. All slaves must be taken to the loading ships and left for the higher officers to distribute. We've never gotten to keep any of the slaves we've found on any of our other missions. I don't know what makes you think we can now. *

* But dad, look at her. She's not like any of the other slaves we've captured. She's exquisite, and this time I don't think the elites should get first picks. I can sneak her out real easy, and no one would even know I'm gone. *

The younger man reached up and stroked Bulma's cheek. For a second time that day, Bulma tried to jerk away from him, but failed when she felt his grip on her arm tighten.

* No, Radditz. I'll not have our squad be punished for your lust and stupidity. And in the future, don't ever question my authority again. Take her to the loading ships and get back to the site. I want to get all the samples I can get of this new technology. This will revolutionize the Saiyan Empire. *

The man holding Bulma sighed and looked at her regretfully. * It's a shame something so beautiful will be wasted as a common slave. She almost looks Saiyan, doesn't she? *

* Yes. Now, quit wasting time and take her to the ship. I mean it, Radditz. If I find out you have her stashed away somewhere as your personal pet, I will blast you into the next dimension for disobeying me. *

Bulma watched the exchange between the two men with interest. It seemed they were having an argument of some kind, most likely about her, she concluded, observing the way the older man kept glancing at her. He then turned away from them and went back to the table.

Her captor grabbed her once again and wrapped an arm around her waist, nearly crushing the air out of her. He was muttering something under his breath and almost didn't hear Bulma's squeals of pain. His arm loosened a bit, but just as she was catching her breath, he threw her over his shoulder and stalked out of the room. Bulma noticed something else about her captor that she hadn't paid enough attention to before. He had a tail. It was twitching angrily in the air, whipping around and many times barely missing her. Bulma kicked, screamed and clawed, but it seemed to do nothing but draw attention to herself. She became even more alarmed as she felt her carrier's hand slide further and further up her thigh, well under the material of her skirt. Bulma screamed every obscenity she had ever heard, and of course, they had no effect on him. She didn't even realize they were outside until she felt the breeze blow the hair covering her face to the side and she noticed the ground was getting farther away.

About twenty minutes later, they arrived in front of another large spacecraft, this once twice as big as the first. As Bulma was set down right side up again, she heard moaning and wailing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes as she beheld the sight before her. There were hundreds of women and children being herded towards the ships entrance. Most of them appeared broken and dirty, most likely a result of the destruction of the city. Where were all of the men? Bulma didn't see a single one among the sea of faces being filed into the waiting ship. She looked towards her "escort" questioningly, and he gave her a light push in the direction of a nearby crowd of women and children moving slowly towards the massive ramp that led inside the ship.

Bulma understood what he wanted her to do, and she had to stop herself from nearly running into his arms to try and prevent her joining the dismal mass of people. Between him and the unknown, he definitely seemed one of the lesser evils. She shook her head no to maybe get him to change his mind. His expression was not completely unyielding, and he gently stroked her cheek for a final time before he called out to a nearby guard who had been busy watching the people funnel in. He motioned to the guard and Bulma was suddenly dragged away to join the multitude of people.

That was the last time she ever saw Chikyuu's blue skies.

The large cage-like cells inside the ship were evidence enough for Bulma to deduce that this was a slave ship. The dark, towering guards were shoving women and children into separate cages. Bulma's ears hurt from the constant sobbing and sniveling of the people being crammed into cages. She was pushed unceremoniously onto the floor of one the cells by a sneering guard with hateful black eyes. She would have lost her temper if had not been for the woman she had fallen over. The woman looked so utterly afflicted that couldn't help but apologize and try and comfort her.

The trip was unbelievably long. Every day was exactly like the next. They were barely fed, and sometimes not at all. No one knew exactly where they were going, but they did know that they were in space somewhere. The stories the women shared with each other were the same: they had all been going through their every day routine, when their lives had been disrupted by these giant men who had the ability to shoot energy out of their hands. Husbands, boyfriends, and brothers had been killed brutally in front of them and they had been brought here in shuttles.

Bulma listened to the women talk about their past lives and suddenly felt a little empty inside. Almost all the women in her cell had someone in their lives that they missed and loved, but she found herself missing the melodious whirl of her cleaning bots. She had no one in her life besides her parents that she could say truly loved her. Her parents. The thought popped into her head that she would never see them again. True, her mother might have been put on one of these ships. But if she knew her mother's temper well, then she knew her mother probably went into a rage after they had harmed her father and kept yapping until they were forced to kill her as well. She allowed a tear to slide down her cheek before she wiped it away and forced herself to think about the situation at hand. How was she going to get out of this?

The guards had begun a ritual of picking a handful of captives from each cell and leading them out of the uncomfortable confinement of the room to the unknown. They never returned. The daily pickings started a panic among the women and children and the ones chosen by the guards did anything to try to keep from being taken. Their numbers diminished considerably and the remaining prisoners started to wonder if their captors had just changed their minds about keeping them and had decided to kill them instead.

Bulma was looked reasonably calm when her turn to leave came. She kept her head up and her back straight as she walked out of the cell. She put on such an impressive display that she was sure it would distract from her quivering knees. She followed the line of women and children out of the room without even looking back.

They were led into a sterile looking room that contained two flat metal tables with padded head rests and two smaller matching tables set up beside them. And beside each table was a person with a very large needle. The group's collective gasps resounded throughout the room. One of the guards pulled the first person in line, which happened to be a child, onto the first table. The guard then proceeded to strap the child onto the table face down. The child began to whimper and the guard pulled the strap around his head tighter to shut him up. The man standing beside the table immediately plunged the needle into the little boy's neck. The child's screams frightened the other women and children into a deathly silence and Bulma shuddered as she watched youngster twitch in pain on the table. The guard then released him from the table and barked out a command. Surprisingly, the child moved to the other end of the room and stood with his back against the wall, his face filled with wonder and amazement. The guards began dragging the women and children towards the tables, repeating the process again and again, their ears deaf to the protests of the unwilling captives. And for some reason, after the process was done, each and every person had an astonished look on their face.

It was Bulma's turn next. She braced herself for the pain and held her breath. It was probably the most agonizing pain she had ever experienced, but it was over in a matter of seconds. When the guard let her up, she became dizzy for a second and almost didn't hear the guard shouting at her.

"Get up and stand by the others against the wall."

Bulma nearly did a double take. She had just heard everything the guard had just said and understood him. The guard got tired of waiting for her to respond and impatiently shoved her towards the wall. Bulma stood against the wall dumbfounded. How was this possible? One shot and now she understood the ogre?

When the last person had received their shot, the group was led down a long corridor and into what looked like a docking area. They were collectively put into a smaller spacecraft with a couple of guards and had launched out of the larger ship in a matter of minutes. Bulma's mind was teeming with questions. How was it they were able to understand the guards? And where were they going? Would it be another planet be like Chikyuu? Or would it be so bizarre they would stick out like sore thumbs? And what were they expected to do when they got there?

Their ship landed hours later in a large crowded spaceport on a red planet with greenish skies. They shuffled behind the guard leading them through the mass of people, their newly chained hands attached to the person in front of them. Surprisingly they didn't gain an audience. This sort of thing must happen often here, Bulma thought. They finally stopped after twenty humiliating minutes of being dragged through the street in chains, and came to an open arena that reminded Bulma of the ancient coliseums back on Chikyuu. They were led to a large platform in the middle of the dirt floor and told to use the large vat of water beside the stage to clean up. For a moment the group perked up. None of the prisoners had been able to bathe since they had been thrown into the cells. It had resulted in very smelly and grimy faced women and children, and may have been the reason none of the guards had bothered to touch any them. They began to wash, taking turns and allowing the children to go first until the guard shouted at them to line up in a row on the platform. He ordered the children on one side and the women on the other. One of the women thought to ask a question about what was happening, seeing as though they hadn't been understood until now. The guard barked back at the woman and told her keep quiet and do what she was told. The woman complied, moving quicker than normal after seeing the dark scowl on the guard's face.

"Let them in," the guard yelled at his colleague by the door. The large wooden doors opened and an odd assortment of people filed in. Each was different in their own way, some having smooth sea-green skin with hair to match, while other had purple, fat, bloated faces and rounded bellies, and still others had blue scaly reptilian faces with gleaming white teeth. There were so many different types of people in front of her that Bulma had lost count of the different races taking the seats facing the stage. The curious group of Chikyuuians watched them warily, beginning to wonder what type of show they were about to participate in. Bulma personally kept a nervous eye on the creature sporting several tentacles near the front of the platform.

The guard standing in front of the captives onstage cleared his throat and the murmuring in the crowd died down. "Ladies, gentlemen, and androgynous company. You are all here today to see the best merchandise that this universe has to offer. I present to you the women and offspring of Chikyuu, a recently purged world full of weak but beautiful humanoid people. They might not be strong, but I assure you, they can be used for many other purposes that don't involve strength." There was a rumble of laughter echoing through the crowd and the guard waited for the crowd's silence again before he continued. "They've all been fitted with a Universal Translator Chip for your convenience, of course. Remember, the aren't any creatures in the universe quite like these beauties, and I guarantee you'll be satisfied with what you pay for. So…who will be our first contestant?"

The guard looked back at the terrified group women, his eyes resting on Bulma's wide-eye gaze. With a smirk, he reached over and pulled her forward so that she stood near the edge, and in better view of the aliens sitting in the seats before the stage.

"Let us start with the best of the lot. This blue-haired beauty could be just the remedy you need to warm you during those cold nights. Let's start the bidding at 20,000 duckets…"

End Flashback

Bulma opened the back door of the kitchen and slipped in unnoticed by the bustling cooks trying to finish the elaborate dinner before the guests arrived. She dreaded this evening. It was not so much the humiliation of serving others anymore as it was the company she was serving to. Most of Mistress Drudilia's friends had husbands with wandering eyes, particularly with a preference for blue-haired servant girls. Bulma would have to suffer through the evening receiving lecherous glances and the occasional lingering brush of fingertips from the various men she would be forced to serve. Of course, they wouldn't approach her openly. That would disrespect their wives and host. But that didn't mean they couldn't do it privately. Bulma had yet to be cornered by any of them, but she didn't put it past them try sometime when the other guests were preoccupied and paying little attention to what was going on around them. She was lucky, Bulma told herself. That's the only reason she hadn't been approached yet. Kami only knew what she would do when one of them finally decided to try something.

Bulma went to the women servant's shared quarters and changed into her formal serving dress. It was getting a bit tight, seeing as though she had to wash so many food stains out of it. She couldn't believe how sloppy some of the guests got after drinking only a few glasses of wine.

Bulma wondered where Damien was. He was probably kissing the feet of the Mistress right now, or telling her some incriminating secret about one of the slaves. Lately, she had avoided Damien like the plague, still feeling the lingering scars that his favorite belt had made across her back. The man could find any reason to beat her. She hated him with a passion stronger than steel and she swore to herself that if she never found a way off this planet, she would find a way to destroy the egotistical head servant if it was the last thing she ever did. Granted, she might deserve some of her beatings. She was never one to just take orders. In her old life, she had been the one giving out orders. But now she was simply a house slave. So she compromised. Whenever she felt she was being dealt a severe injustice, she would speak her mind and take the beating. Any other time she would keep quiet. As of late, she had been getting more and more restless, and had been constantly daydreaming of another life. She knew she couldn't go back to her old one, but she was positive that Kami couldn't be this cruel to her. No, there had to be something else. She just needed to find it. Maybe then she could fill the void that she had felt her whole life.

Next Up: Our favorite angsty Saiyan no Ouji. Will a bit of merging happen as well? Wait and see!!

R E V I E W ! ! !

Any questions? Email me at let88b@mizzou.edu