Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Fathoming Love ❯ Chapter 23 ( Chapter 23 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

“So tell me more,” I said excitedly, resting my chin on my hand. “Tell me more about Bulma and you, how you became married and the like.”

“Oh Tazial,” He laughed. “It isn’t a short telling, as no good story ever is. You’ll have to provide more tape then you can imagine and be as patient as you’ve been before to endure it. But I’d have to say, if you’re a sucker for romance and love and all that pansy, pussy stuff, I’m sure you’ll simply love it.

“So, as you’re probably aware, it basically started off like every other romance. Kakarot was still dead, as they told me and they intended to wish him back, (as they LATER told me, good thing for them I might add) within a year or so. In that year, I basically sat around and tormented Bulma. It was an easy existence, you probably could have guessed that. But it was such a different existence. Let me explain.

“In my former life, and I call it that because it only seems logical to me, I had always been told what to do. There weren’t moments where you just simply sat back, crossed your arms while watching a dirty movie on Showtime and pondering to yourself, ‘hm, now just what will I do with myself today?’. It wasn’t like that. We had missions, we had things we were constantly forced to do and we didn’t have the option of saying no. I was having a hard time adjusting to the fact that there was no punishment for simply letting myself sit for a moment.

“I think that alone could have made Bulma insane as she constantly scolded me for being so mindlessly driven.

“ “Give it a break, Vegeta,” she’d plead in her irritated voice, which was, let’s face it, the only voice she used with me. “You’re driving us all nuts! Don’t you ever just give it a rest?”

“But I didn’t even understand these concepts. Under Frieza’s control, I was either purging, or I was training to purge. Working out and making my body stronger wasn’t exactly just a cute little hobby I’d picked up to “score some babes” or look better. It was how I SURVIVED. While these humans slept something like 8 hours a day, I was lucky if I could force myself to endure an entire 3, waking up in the middle of the night convinced that I’d committed the unforgivable sin of showing up to a purge late.

“And the dreams?” He suddenly became dead serious. “The dreams were like nothing I’d ever seen. I’d been to Hell and back and I’d still never been so scared as when I’d have a dream about Frieza. I guess he’d been my biggest fear my entire life and I’d always just been too proud to admit it. Plus, until the day he’d killed me, I’d never really understood just how powerless I was to stop him. And I had this awful fear that he was still very much alive and pissed beyond forgiveness at the fate that had befallen him.

“Sometimes, I’d wake up to someone screaming only to realize it was me. I’d collapse on the pillow, dead silent listening to be sure that no one else had heard the pitiful wails, embarrassed that it had happened at all. I felt like a car accident victim in the aftermath, suffering the dreams. Like I was sitting always in the back seat or something, holding onto the bar and knowing that any second the vehicle would collide with something awful and my body would burst on contact. Always the dreams of Frieza.

“Psychologically, I was fucked. Saiyan or not, I don’t think any creature can really endure some of the things I did and come out flawless. Maybe that’s why so many warriors died so young. It wasn’t that they weren’t strong enough. Maybe it was because their will isn’t strong enough.

“I remember reading a book when I first came to this planet, a book called “Man’s Search for Meaning” by Viktor Frankl. He was apparently a survivor of this thing you call a Holocaust. He had lost his entire family to the concentration camp and had barely survived himself. But later on, (I can so easily remember this part), he had written about the condition of those who lived and died.

“They were all given tasks to do and if they didn’t show up or refused to do them, they were sent to the gas chambers. Well, the thing that this man realized quickly, is that sometimes, even the most healthy looking people, the ones with fat still on their bones, their color intact, would not show up to work and be sent to die, whereas sometimes the most sickly, skinny people who looked as though they could collapse at any moment, would report for work on time and fulfill their tasks throughout the day.

“The reason that some lived and some died, is because some, had more to live for. He stated the theory that in order to continue living, man must have a reason, a goal to strive for. A reason to awake up in the morning. And the only thing that I could think of when I meditated on this, was that Bulma, was the only reason I gave a damn about anything.

“It got to the point that I would sometimes go out of my way just to bump into her in the kitchen, and I’d even adjust my schedule at times to eat with her. Some days, she loved to talk to me, getting frustrated as I would merely listen and never divulge anything about myself. It just didn’t seem right at the time. Or later, as I accept now, I was too cowardly to discuss my former life with her.

“I’ve never been rejected by anyone for my looks, but if I was, I could forget it and pass it off to simply preference. But if I was to open myself up, I mean really reveal who I was on the inside and be rejected for that? I’d be inconsolable. Because you can’t change your past anymore than you can predict your future. And to be denied for the person you are in your heart? That’s the ultimate rejection.

“So she would often talk and I would listen, staring at her blue hair, at the way it would some days be pulled into a tight, boring pony-tale (as I believe the phrase is) or how she would sometimes leave it be and it would be a mass of part crinkly, part wavy, part straight hair. She always complained that those days were her worst and though I felt compelled, I would never tell her that to me, I thought she looked most beautiful that way.

“Most times, I would pretend that she was boring me, going on and on about something her pathetic boy toy had done or her recent trip somewhere or something or the other. But honestly, I hung on every word she said. I’d even think about it later, pissed that I hadn’t told her straight out what a loser she was dating. The greatest comebacks always came about an hour too late and I forced myself simply to get over these facts and commend my mouth for staying quiet and not betraying too much.

“But I believe, all in all, Bulma wanted me. In fact, I knew it. It was just easier NOT to contemplate that simply because the temptation was there. I wanted her. I wanted to BE with her. But I didn’t just want to fuck her and therein was really the problem.

“I wasn’t USED to this Tazial! Here I was, the ruler of my own existence, controlled by no one and nothing but myself, the strongest known being alive and a veritable GOD to any species with sexual tendencies. I could be humble about the entire thing but let’s face it Tazial, you may be fucking old, but you’re not blind.”

“Uhh… Thanks?”

“Forget it,” he chuckled. “Of any species in the galaxy, I could bet you that the earth creatures appreciate me the most. I can go anywhere on this world Tazial, and probably get anyone I want. It has nothing to DO with preference here or taste or type. Tazial, I’m EVERYONE’S type.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t very well disagree with him. He certainly shocked me the first time I saw him and he was undeniably the most beautiful man I’d ever seen, on screen or not.

“But she could make me feel insecure!” he laughed. “This woman, this tiny, puny earth woman could make me feel inadequate. I’d never in my life really cared what I looked like or what I wore. I’d always been completely at peace with the fact that my beauty alone was what really kept me in Frieza’s good graces and that my strength kept me alive. But now, I found myself actually taking a look at the clothes I would wear, something I’d NEVER had to do since Zarbon was basically my clothes coordinator my entire life. I was quick to decipher what women on this world liked, and that was namely, homoerotic, tight fitting clothes.

“Leather pants could make them swoon, completely forgetting their lady-like manners that the unspoken earth rules demanded they adorn themselves with, and became the epitome of the stereotypical construction worker. A tight fitting shirt clinging to a man’s pectorals was like a woman with huge, silicone ones. People just HAD to look!

“Of course, I had an unlimited amount of money as the Briefs (Bulma’s last name fyi, sorry about that Tazial) was the richest in that country. I had a credit card with no limit and by God, I USED it. Even Bulma was disgusted with the amount of material possessions I adorned myself with. She’d often call me a bigger girl than she was, in which case, I’d simply comment that, that in particular, wouldn’t take much.

“Some days, I guess just like humans, I felt much more vulnerable than on other days. I was becoming moody, something I swear has a lot to do with the weather on this planet. On rainy, cloudy days, when the sun didn’t really shine or the sky looked like one big blanket of grey, I’d think about Zarbon.

“Maybe it’s selfish of me to say that I didn’t really think much of Faraque after this. I had someone else and though I feel an amount of guilt for it now, I wouldn’t allow myself then. But there were days when I would remember Zarbon and those times were the hardest of all. Because besides Bulma, I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I hadn’t even realized I felt the NEED to talk to others until I was faced with loneliness like this. But when she was out or when the sun refused to shine or when I’d just trained enough that I could handle no more, I would see his face.

“ “You want to know brat Prince?” I heard him say one day, as I sat alone by the pool on a cold day in November. I had stared at the sky, covered grey and ugly.

“ “You really want to know why I kill them so swiftly? Where I get the strength to do it without flinching? Because I ENVY THEM! I envy that they can die. That they can be with those lost along the way. Everything I’ve ever loved has died Vegeta! Everything I’ve ever believed in eventually crumbles, and falls, and leaves. And I, I who cherished it more than anything else am left to mourn its passing, while I wait for my own. Everything will die some day.”

“Not me.” I whispered, exactly as I had that day when I was only 10.

“ “Ahh but yes, even you brat Prince.” He’d said. “You will grow, and you will leave or you will die. And I will remain. I’ll be here to miss you. To remember you. To love the memories of you that only I possess. But you’ll be free and I’ll be lonely, empty, dead as I am now.”

“And I laughed aloud at the irony of it. Because it hadn’t turned out that way at all. The pupil had surpassed the master and in that accomplishment, had learned his darkest lesson. That now, he was alone; truly, wholly, and inescapably.

“It was in these dark, self pitying moments that Bulma had chanced upon me, apparently having watched me from the window for quite some time. I’d heard her coming, listening to her footsteps as I could tell them apart from anyone else’s these days. She’d quite simply sat down right next to me and joined staring up at the sky. I thought she’d say something, because she always seemed to have something to say, but today, she didn’t. She just looked with me and sat with me for what must have been a full hour.

“It was suddenly a very peaceable moment, even as I fought with my memories and my past. I guess just because she was there and even if she didn’t know what I’d seen or who I’d been or even really who I was now, she was sharing this with me and the loneliness seemed like a small glimmer in the background of a memory.

“ “Why are you here?” I felt compelled to ask suddenly, turning to look at her as I hadn’t allowed myself to.

“She seemed surprised that I had even spoken, as if she really had no intention of conversation by coming out here. Like she would have been perfectly content just to sit quietly next to me for another hour, if not for more than that.

“She finally shrugged, having not answered my question for several moments. It occurred to me that maybe she was weighing her options on whether to answer me at all, like it might have some consequences if she was honest in her reasons. I hated quite abruptly that she should feel like she had to tip toe around me. Most people? I’d rile in the fact, point in case, I’d EXPECT it but with her, it seemed so… dishonorable or something.

“ “You looked lonely I guess,” She said quietly.

“ “That’s stupid,” I answered tritely. “I’m never lonely. I’m perfectly content this way. There’s no need for you to bother me with your presence. I’m not weak like a human, you know.”

“ “I know.” She said softly, still staring off into the distant sky. “But I think sometimes, anyone can get a little lonely.”

“There was a long pause between us and the fact finally dawned on me that maybe she wasn’t here to pity me or even keep me company. I might have even been being self centered to think so. Maybe, in her own way, she was lonely too.

“ “Do you….” I stopped, wondering if I should really ask this or if my boys just might shrivel up and fall of if I did. “Do you ever… get lonely?”

“She smiled slightly.

“ “Yeah, sometimes I do.” She answered. “It’s funny, sometimes, you think you’re so strong ya know? Like, you really don’t need anybody, that you’re almost like this rock hard, indestructible person. And then,” She looked up thoughtfully. “Then there are days like this when you almost regret being the type of person that never needs anyone. Because eventually, other people buy the act and leave you alone. That’s when my loneliness sets in.”

“She looked at me.
“ “When you’ve finally convinced yourself that you’re strong enough by yourself, only to realize in the end, that’s all you have and that ironically, you got your wish. You’re entirely by yourself.”

“I must have gawked at her logic, feeling almost that she’d described ME with those words when honestly, she’d been speaking of herself.

“ “And then…” She started, shutting her mouth before continuing.

“ “You might as well just finish woman, it couldn’t possibly lower my opinion of you.”

“ “I don’t know if that’s a compliment coming from you Vegeta,” She laughed. “But I’m almost certain it’s not. And I don’t really know what I was going to say. It doesn’t matter now anyways.”

“I gave her a look that basically said all on its own that she’d better finish her thought and she sighed, throwing up her hands.

“ “I was just thinking that,” she paused, gathering her thoughts. “How do I say this? I think that sometimes, even when I’m with people, I still feel alone.”

“I looked into her eyes, nodding solemnly.

“ “I can be in a crowd of people and I swear,” She said sadly. “I swear I feel more isolated and different from everyone than ever. I hate crowds because I feel suddenly, like…. like I’m at odds with everything around me. Like I don’t fit in. And sometimes, even when I’m with Yamcha, I’m the most lonely girl in this world. The loneliest times I can remember have never been on nights that I spent alone.”

“I think I smiled a little bit at her, something I wasn’t very good at at the time.

“ “I guess you must kinda know what that’s like,” She said. “You’re kind of isolated away from your own kind or at least the people you used to know. Must kinda be like… losing a family or something.”

“I gave a good laugh at that little comment.
“ “Not exactly,” I answered. “Unless your family threatens to kill you on a daily basis.”

“ “You ever met my mom?” she joked.

“I smiled at that thought, her mom was by far the kindest person I’d ever met but you had to admit, the woman could show one hell of a temper when you REALLY went too far, and me and Bulma seemed to have a formidable talent for this.

“ “So…” she pondered aloud. “Then, you must really feel strange here.”

“I looked at her confused.

“ “I mean, everything and everyone you’ve ever known is gone, basically. You’re with a lot of people that you don’t really understand and, who … . don’t really understand you an-..”

“ “Just what are you getting at?” I interrupted. God, I felt like I was on the couch in a therapist’s office suddenly. Like my past and my private feelings were being jotted down in some God awful notebook to be placed in a scrap heap with the rest of the doodles.

“ “I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I guess I’m just trying to see things the way that you must. It’s easy to judge someone by how they act and behave, but it’s harder trying to understand why they do it. I think there’s a lot more to you then you let anyone else know and what’s worse…. I think you really try to hide it from me.”

“I huffed, turning away from her prying eyes.
“ “Don’t be mad,” she said in an irritated voice. “I’m just saying that it’s OK if-…”

“ “If what?” I snapped. “If I wanted to ‘share my feelings with you’ or ‘have a shoulder to cry on’ Princess? Well I SINCERELY DO NOT THINK SO!” I pronounced every word as if it were a sentence on its own.

“ “And what’s more,” I added rudely. “How dare you insinuate anything about me?! I’m not lonely! I just don’t feel the incessant NEED to share every single stupid thing that pops into my head LIKE SOME PEOPLE. And IF I decided to keep secrets from you, then I damn well will! They’re MINE to keep!”

“ “God, Vegeta!” She yelled. “You’re SUCH a DICK! You know, you’d think that when someone’s ACTUALLY trying to have a civil conversation with you, the LEAST you could do was to keep your savage, ape-man ways to a low key but ohhhhh NOT YOU! Not the GREAT ALL MIGHTY KING BUTT MONKEY VEGETA!”

“ “Oh and the riveting intellect just KEEPS ON COMING!” I hollered, raising my arms out to the side. “Well come on woman, don’t keep me in stitches forever! Please, entertain me with more of your sarcastic wit! Or better yet, tell me MORE about myself Princess! I’m just DYING to hear what you come up with next. Please, please, let’s have a little chat about my father shall we? OH CURE ME CURE ME DOCTOR BRIEFS!” I clutched my hands together, being overly dramatic. “Daddy used to touch me in the BAD PLACES!”

“ “Yeah, like you’re WORTH the time I spend thinking it up,” she growled.

“ “That it?” I challenged. “That all you got? Well good. Trust me sweets, that bit went fucking stale a century ago.”

“We spent the next ten minutes in frustrated silence, neither one willing to get up and leave for fear of looking like a coward and running away; yet neither one was prepared to talk to the other due to a big round of ‘pissed off’ that had been evenly distributed.

“Finally I caved, curiosity getting the best of me, as it tends to do quite an amount.

“ “So,” I breathed. “Why DO you talk to me really? I mean, you’re not like the others. You don’t look at me like I’m some patient in an asylum somewhere. Like I’m going to snap at any moment. And you don’t talk to me like the others do either. You’re…” I paused. “You’re different. Why?”

“ “I guess I just see you differently,” she shrugged, seeming to get over our little spout. “Everyone else is too caught up in being afraid of you to really see if there’s more to you than that.”“ “Yes, but I like when people are afraid of me.” I smiled.

“ “I know you do,” she laughed. “And that’s why I don’t tell them any differently. But I know there’s more to you, I see it in your eyes.”

“ “What?” I looked at her.

“ “I don’t know,” she shrugged again. “With some people, it’s like you can look at them and tell that not much commotion is going on in the house. Like the lights are on but the people left a long time ago or something.”

“ “Oh, so we’re on the topic of your boyfriend again.”

“ “No!” She laughed aloud, smacking my arm playfully. “I just mean, there’s depth when I look in your eyes. Like you’re constantly thinking about something and some day, I’m going to figure out what it is.”

“ “Now, I highly doubt that.”

“ “I figured you would,” she agreed. “But hey, a girl can always hope right? I guess I just view and see you differently than the others do.”

“I pondered on this for a moment. It almost made me sick thinking of it. When she looked at me, she saw intelligence and no doubt a bit of goodness or at least someone she could trust. And in this fact, I realized very much that while I basically had her figured out, she saw me as something I completely and utterly was NOT. She saw the man in me that she wanted to see, not who I really was.

“ “And what do you see when you look at me?” I whispered, staring straight ahead. I wanted her answer to be something even remotely along the lines of who I was, but I didn’t really have much hope that it would be.

“ “Hmm……” She said smiling, sitting up and looking right into my face. “I’ll tell you what I see. I see a big, annoying brother type person who is ABOUT to be very very wet.”

“The pervert in me took this the COMPLETELY wrong way which in turn, surrendered me to her hands as she pushed me with all her might into the freezing cold pool. I went ENTIRELY under, barely able to breathe it was so cold.

“Using my super speed, I burst out and grabbed her before she could escape, pulling her right in with me.

“ “Vegeta! Vegeta NO!” she laughed, going right under with me. I looked through the bubbles that flew in front of my face, suddenly seeing her staring right back at me beneath the water. We were holding onto each other and I felt myself smile, not a smirk, not a grin but a real smile. She, with her arrogant, horrible, teeth clenching personality had made the ugliest, saddest day I could remember, positively hilarious and for the first time in SO SO long, I was having fun.

“It was beneath that water that I remembered a direct quote from Viktor Frankl and I can apply it perfectly now and understand why I had recalled it when staring into her eyes.

“ “For the first time in my life,” He had written in his book. “I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth--that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love.

“We spent the rest of the day splashing each other in that pool.