Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Friends ❯ 06 - brutal ( Chapter 6 )

Friends - an AU Vegebul Highschool Fanfic by LadyVegeets

Ch.06 - Brutal

Bulma sat up in the bleachers as her friends practiced martial arts down below. Yamcha had been shocked to see her there at first, and Bulma in turn had felt a maelstrom of emotions at the sight of him - her wound was still raw, but she knew in time she and Yamcha would be able to move past their awkwardness. Yamcha was soon too busy training to pay her any attention.

Vegeta was also sitting on a bench, right in the front, forced to be a spectator due to his injuries and his Father's request for his son to sit out of sports until his ribs had healed. Bulma sat several rows behind Vegeta; it reminded her of class. From this position she could surreptitiously watch Vegeta's back while pretending to watch her friends train. Although Goku and the others were currently not training, instead goofing around, taking advantage of the fact that Coach Piccolo had stepped out to take a call.

Her phone suddenly buzzed. Vegeta had messaged her. Why are you friends with these people? They all seem like idiots.

Bulma rolled her eyes at Vegeta's arrogant words. They are not. They just don't have a stick up their butt like someone I know. [Scowly face]

She watched as Vegeta checked his phone. He turned around and glared at her over his shoulder. Bulma ignored him, raising her phone and pretending to primp in front of it, using it as a mirror.

It buzzed in her face. Says the self righteous bitch.

Bulma scowled at his message. She angrily typed back a reply. Says the mightier-than-thou jerk. [angry face]

Ooh, terrifying. Really though. You're leagues above these people.

Bulma paused in typing her reply. Vegeta was really pressing the issue. It was unusual for him to show such a serious interest in her life. Didn't realize you thought so highly of me, [winky face], Bulma finally wrote back.

Being better than a bunch of idiots isn't high praise. Don't let it get to your head.

Bulma scowled at the back of Vegeta's spiky-haired head before replying. Hey, they're good people. They help me and support me in both good and bad times. I've known them for a long time, Goku especially. [Hearts] [group of people]

Goku? The big one? God, he's the dumbest one here. Down on the gym floor, Yamcha suddenly cried out as Krillin knocked him over. She saw Vegeta shake his head and he sent a follow-up reply. Scrap that, your ex takes last place in the moron food chain.

Bulma tried to frown, but found herself fighting back a laugh. She was still bitter enough about Yamcha cheating on her that having Vegeta call him names felt good.

Yeah, well, I wish I'd known that before I started dating him. [Eye-rolling face]

You clearly have poor taste in friends.

Is that why I've befriended you? She teased, with another winky face.

I'm the first smart choice you've made in a while.

Bulma snorted audibly. Well, better than Yamcha, at least. [Thumbs down]

It's a miracle your ex can function with such poor coordination.

Especially now that he doesn't have me around to help. [Angel face]

He's lucky that's all he doesn't have.

Bulma's eyebrows rose. What's that supposed to mean? [confused face]

Where I come from, if a guy treated his girl the way he did you, he wouldn't have the parts left to be called a man afterwards.

Bulma winced at the implication. Brutal. I couldn't even take our cat to get neutered. [dismayed face] I suppose Yamcha's lucky to not be where you're from.

Want me to beat him up in lieu of a neutering?

Bulma hesitated in replying. A moment ticked by, then another. Soon an entire minute had gone, but she couldn't make her fingers answer Vegeta's text, her mind conjuring images of Vegeta enacting revenge on her behalf.

When he didn't get a reply, Vegeta turned in his seat to look up at her. He cocked a brow, surprised by her hesitation. Intrigued. Something dark flashed in his black eyes.

Bulma blushed, feeling naked and ashamed that she was even considering his offer. She shook her head and lowered her eyes.

Don't.

Vegeta glanced at the message, then turned back away to face the gym.

Bulma swallowed, her throat dry, her heart pounding. She hadn't really wanted Yamcha beaten up, she wasn't that bitter at him. But the thought of Vegeta offering to pummel someone for her… It had sparked something primal within her. In that one, brief heartbeat, Bulma had tasted power, to control Vegeta, to hurt Yamcha… and she was utterly terrified by how much she'd liked it. Disgusted with herself, she didn't use her phone for the rest of practice.

When training ended, Bulma decided to leave while her friends showered and changed. Vegeta didn't need to change, having only sat on a bench the whole time, but the coach took him aside to talk to him about ways to start easing into exercise with his injuries. Vegeta looked irritated by the inconvenience. Bulma had to hide a smirk; she doubted the coach knew that Vegeta was already going on morning runs, to hell with `easing into exercise'. She left, knowing Vegeta wouldn't be too far behind her to study at her house as they'd planned.

When she got home she barely had time to clean up before the doorbell rang. She let Vegeta in and they went to her room.

“So, I had a couple ideas for our project,” Bulma said, excited to be talking science. They sat on cushions at a floor table in her room. “It's something my father and I have talked about before. We could invent a device that is able to store large items in a small container, like a capsule.”

Vegeta scoffed. “That's ridiculous. We'll be laughed out of class with something so science-fiction as that.”

Bulma shook her head. “No, really. I know it's far fetched, but if we consider-”

“Knock knock!” A cheerily sweet voice interrupted from the door. Vegeta visibly stiffened.

Bulma was less alarmed, knowing the voice. “Come in, Mama.”

Mrs. Briefs let herself in, beaming at the two in the room. “Bulma honey, you have a guest? I don't believe I've met this strapping young gentleman before.”

“This is Vegeta, Mama,” Bulma introduced. “He's new to school, and my partner for a project in advanced skills.” Bulma turned to Vegeta. “Vegeta, this is my mother, Panchy Briefs.”

Mrs. Briefs beamed at Vegeta and held out her hand. Vegeta took it with an uncertain expression. “Uh… Thank you for having me in your home, Ma'am.”

Bulma barely kept her mouth from dropping open, seeing Vegeta be so polite.

Mrs. Briefs tittered as they shook hands. “You're most welcome, Vegeta dear. My, you're in advanced with my daughter? So you're smart as well as cute.”

“Mama!” Bulma cried out, appalled. Vegeta looked like he wanted to flee, color rising to his cheeks.

“And you're in the fight club too, I see,” Mrs. Briefs continued unashamedly, commenting on Vegeta's fading bruises and cuts.

Bulma hastily answered. “Yes! With Goku and the others.” Her mother didn't have to know that Vegeta hadn't technically received his injuries from gym. Vegeta flashed Bulma a raised eyebrow, but didn't call her out on the lie.

“So Vegeta, are you single?” Mrs. Briefs inquired.

“MAMA!” Bulma shouted, standing up. She started pushing her mother out of her room. “We need to study now, thanks for visiting!”

Mrs. Briefs laughed. “Okay darling, I know you kids want your privacy. Are you hungry, shall I prepare a snack while you study?”

Bulma was about to say no just to get her mother to leave, but thought better of it. She was hungry, and Vegeta always seemed to be too, so she replied, “Yes, thanks. Can you make some dinner for us? We're starving. Thanks, Mama. Now go.”

Mrs. Briefs grabbed the doorway before she could be pushed out and smiled at Vegeta. “Vegeta, honey, is there anything you'd care for? Do you have any allergies?” Vegeta shook his head, dumbstruck in the face of Mrs. Briefs' motherly attention. “Alright then, I'll whip something up for you two. Be back soon. Work hard!” Mrs. Briefs called to them, and with a final push, Bulma shoved her mother out and shut the door.

Bulma glanced at Vegeta, embarrassed. “Sorry about that. She's always been kinda kooky.” Vegeta grunted, saying nothing else about the matter, still looking embarrassed. Bulma sat back at the table, wishing away the blush on her cheeks. “Well, um, where were we?”

“Science-fiction capsules,” Vegeta grunted, not looking at her.

“Yes. I mean, no! It's not science-fiction.”

They debated for a while about the possibility of capsule technology. Vegeta finally shot it down and said he'd rather invent armor that could stretch to be flexible in battle and fit any body type, but still be strong enough to resist weapons and attacks. “Now who is living in a sci-fi world?” Bulma snorted.

Their argument was finally broken up by Mrs. Briefs returning with their dinner. The food instantly caught Vegeta's attention as he was unable to look away from the feast she had prepared for them. Their little table was quickly ladened by steaming hot chicken, mountains of roasted vegetables, and brown gravy. There was also cold water, juice and steaming hot buttered bread. Vegeta murmured his thanks to Mrs. Briefs, surprising Bulma once again with his ability to use manners.

As soon as Mrs. Briefs excused herself, Vegeta didn't wait to be told to start eating. Bulma joined him and they happily consumed the delicious food. There was so much of it in fact that despite Vegeta's best efforts, even he couldn't finish all the meal. He glared angrily at the last bits of chicken, as if annoyed that he couldn't find room in his belly for them.

“You can take the left overs home,” Bulma suggested.

“Tch, what am I, a stray dog?” he said, looking away from the food as if it suddenly didn't interest him anymore. Bulma sighed at his fickleness. “Your mom is pretty nice, even if she is a busy-body like you.” He announced as if to change the topic.

Bulma shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose.” It occurred to her that she'd never heard Vegeta mention his mother. Not that he ever really spoke about his father, or anyone really, but Bulma at least knew that there was a Mr. Saiyan. Did Vegeta even have a mother around? She bit her lip. She knew it would be impolite to ask. There was so much about Vegeta that she still didn't know.

After dinner they returned to their school project. After more arguing and insults, they finally agreed on `inventing' a polymer for improved gym clothing, something that would be comfortable to wear for training, and be supportive to muscles and joints while helping protect against impacts and injuries. `The ideal training gi', Vegeta called it. They divided up tasks of who would research and write what, and by the time that was sorted, it was quite late in the evening.

Vegeta swung his backpack over his shoulder, wincing as it aggravated his ribs. “I should head home.”

Bulma saw him grimace and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Have you been taking the pain medication the doctor prescribed you?”

“Tch. I don't need that crap.” Bulma glared at him. Vegeta scowled back. “The bruising is almost gone,” he said and lifted up his shirt to show her. Bulma caught a glimpse of ugly purple bruising on Vegeta's slim yet muscled abdomen before she whipped her head around, outraged.

“Don't show me that, you pervert!” she cried out, feeling heat rushing to her cheeks, her heart suddenly pounding loudly in her ears.

“Seriously? You're shy?” Vegeta asked, half shocked, half amused. “All your friends are male, and in MMA. Surely you've seen this before.”

“They don't fight naked!” she protested, adding `usually' in her mind. Bulma knew she was overreacting, she had indeed seen her male friends topless plenty of times, and had even appreciated seeing Yamcha topless more than once. But having Vegeta reveal himself when she was still conflicted about her feelings for him wasn't doing her any favors. And this wasn't the gym, this was her bedroom, and they were alone. It was too much.

Bulma heard Vegeta laugh. It was soft and low, a chuckle really, and it stirred something in her lower belly that made her blush even harder. She glanced at him over her shoulder. He had his hands crossed in front of his chest, giving her a smug smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Didn't take you for a prude, Briefs,” he teased.

Oh great, Bulma kicked herself mentally. She'd given Vegeta something to torment her with, and he was jerk enough to know it, and use it. “I thought you were leaving,” she snapped back.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm out,” Vegeta replied, still smirking, and fixed his bag over his shoulder. “Later.”

“Hmph,” she said, turning up her nose and looking away from him, not trusting herself to even look at him right now without blushing hard.

She heard the door click closed and she looked to see her room empty. Bulma sighed, feeling the tension ease from her body. Her phone suddenly buzzed.

Bulma picked it up, seeing Vegeta had messaged her a little flexing emoji figure.

Bulma scowled. Dick, she typed back.

I don't know you well enough to show you that.

Bulma felt her cheeks explode in heat. YOU PERVERT. I'M TURNING MY DAMN PHONE OFF.

No you won't.

Bulma fumed and pressed the power button on her phone. Then she threw it onto the pile of cushions on the floor and stormed out of her room.

The next morning when she turned her phone on, Bulma was a little disappointed to find she hadn't received a slew of messages from Vegeta. In fact, he hadn't sent a single damn one. That's when she realized she'd fallen into his trap - he'd wanted her to turn off her phone to spare himself from her usual barrage of texts. By turning off her phone, she'd only punished herself.

“Ugh! I hate him,” she grumbled at breakfast to the kitchen counter.

“Who do you hate, dear?” Mrs. Briefs asked sweetly.

“Men,” Bulma spat back, pushing her fruit about on her plate.

Mrs. Briefs beamed at her. “Sounds like someone likes someone.”

Bulma blushed furiously. “I do not, Mama! Didn't you hear me? I hate him! He's a jerk, a big, mean, annoying, smug, egotistical jerk!”

Mrs. Briefs tapped her lip, cocking her head. “Are you talking about Yamcha, dear?” she asked, a twinkle in her eye.

Bulma grumbled, not replying. “If he thinks he's so clever, he can make his own damn lunch,” she said to herself.

Mrs. Briefs left her alone to her own mumblings.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___ ~___X___~___X___~

Bulma ignored Vegeta all throughout advanced class. Or she would have if he bothered to pay her any attention. It was hard to ignore someone when they were ignoring you first.

During PE she made a big show of hanging out with her friends, pointedly ignoring Vegeta, hoping to… well, she didn't know what she was hoping to do. To make him jealous? Annoyed? She was still puzzling out her motivations when class ended. It was her turn to help put away the equipment in the sports shed out the back of the school yard.

She was carrying some balls outside to the storage shed when she met two boys coming from the opposite direction, smelling of cigarette smoke. One was broad, the other skinny and rattish. She tried to ignore them but the way their eyes lingered on her short gym outfit told her she was in for some trouble.

“Looking good, girl,” the broad one called out to her in a suggestive tone

Bulma scowled and ignored them, heading to the shed to deposit her equipment. When she turned to head out, she saw the two boys standing in the door, blocking her exit. Bulma felt a small flutter of fear.

“What do you want?” She asked testily, using anger to mask her fear.

“Hey, my friend here paid you a compliment. The least you could do is thank him,” the ratty boy said, leering at her.

Bulma glared at them both, saying nothing.

“Aw, c'mon girl, don't be like that,” the broad one cajoled. “Hey, you're Bulma Briefs, right? I heard what happened to your boy in the toilets. So you're single now, right?”

“Dream on,” Bulma spat, and tried to push past them. The ratty boy gently pushed her back inside the shed, not letting her out. The fear in her belly intensified. “Let me past, pea brains,” she snapped at them, her voice coming out too high. She fisted her hands to hide their trembling.

“Move,” a gruff, familiar voice instructed from behind the two bullies.

All three of them turned to look. Vegeta was standing there carrying an impressive amount of sports equipment in his arms. The two boys traded an uncertain glance, then moved to let Vegeta past. The ratty one stepped to the side so that he was still blocking in Bulma.

Vegeta walked by without even glancing at her. He dumped his load in the shed, then exited and started walking away.

“Vegeta…” Bulma called out to him in a small, helpless voice. She couldn't believe he was just going to ignore her. Had he not seen her there?

Vegeta stopped. The two boys tensed, staring at him, waiting to see if he'd intervene.

A strained moment ticked passed. Then Vegeta spoke, his back to all of them. “I've been told not to get involved in fights.” And with that, he walked off.

Bulma's mouth parted in disbelief as she watched him leave, betrayal stabbing her deeply. She felt tears burn the backs of her eyes. Fearfully, she turned her gaze back on the two boys.

They smirked at her, sensing her fear and their victory.

“What say you, Briefs? Why not give us your number? We know how to treat a girl right,” the ratty boy said, placing his hand on Bulma's waist and thumbing her hip possessively. It made her skin crawl.

Bulma felt her whole body flood with fear-fueled adrenalin. In a panic, she reacted before she could think her actions through. She punched the boy square in the nose.

He howled and staggered back, clutching his face. Once he got over the shock he glared at her, taking a threatening step forward.

With no help coming, Bulma knew she was going to have to get herself out of this one. She was no fighter, she was also no quitter. Bulma mustered up every ounce of anger and arrogant, entitled teenage strength she had, drawing herself up to full height as she pointed a finger at them.

“You'll get out of my face right this instant or I'm going to scream so bloody loud the whole school will come running out here. Then I'll sue you both for sexual harassment until your families are so disgraced and bankrupted they'll be begging on the streets for the next five generations. And if you continue to bother me, I might even hire someone to pay you a visit one night, when it's dark and you're alone, and accidentally break your knees. I'm a Briefs, so you know I can do it with the spare change in my designer gym bag. Do I make myself clear, boys?”

The two boys stood stock still, letting the weight of her words sink in. They were pissed, the ratty one with the bruised nose especially, but they also looked worried, knowing she could easily carry out her threats. The Briefs fortune was no joking matter. The injured boy finally huffed and shoved her hard against the wall, knocking her down onto her butt.

“Bitch,” he spat, and the two walked off leaving her on the ground.

Bulma remained sitting on her backside for a few minutes, trying to calm down. She was trembling like a leaf, her anger quickly subsiding in the face of fear and relief.

After what felt like an eternity she pulled herself up on shaky legs and started walking slowly back towards the school. As she turned a corner, she nearly bumped into someone.

Vegeta was leaning against the wall, staring at his shoes. He cast her a sidelong look.

Seeing his face, Bulma saw red. She stomped up to him, planted her feet, and slapped him hard across the face. Vegeta took it without even attempting to stop her. Bulma glared at him, still trembling from her ordeal.

“Feel better?” he asked her flatly.

“You just left me with them!” she said, her voice low, shaking with rage.

“And?”

“How could you?” she asked, feeling unbidden tears rise.

Vegeta said nothing in his defense, just staring at her somberly.

“You jerk!” she shouted, and hit his shoulder as tears started to fall. Vegeta took the abuse without complaint. “Some friend you are!”

“You're the one who insists we're friends, not me.”

Bulma hit his shoulder again, and again. “You asshole! I can't believe you would abandon me like that. I was… I was so scared,” she confessed, curling her fingers in Vegeta's shirt and to her horror she started sobbing.

“Yet you handled it, all by yourself,” he pointed out calmly, undaunted by her tears.

Bulma cried, taking a while to process his words. She wiped at her eyes and finally looked up at him, hurt and confused.

He met her gaze unflinchingly, then gave her a small smile. “You handled them better than I would have given you credit for. You're pretty feisty when cornered.”

Bulma stared at him in disbelief. As the initial panic wore off, she started putting the pieces together. She thought Vegeta had abandoned her to the nasty boys, but he hadn't really left her, he'd been around the corner the whole time. Close enough to intervene if need be.

He'd given her the chance to save herself, and she had.

She still wasn't ready to forgive him. Bulma pulled herself together, mustering her fiercest scowl yet. “You still could have helped!”

Vegeta folded his arms. “You're the one who said I should stay out of trouble.”

“Not at the expense of my safety!” Bulma shouted back, feeling better to be fighting rather than crying.

“You weren't in any danger,” Vegeta told her scathingly.

“Well I'm glad you were so sure of that, because I had no idea! I thought they were going to rape me!” Bulma spat back.

The lunch bell rang, interrupting their fight.

Bulma gave Vegeta one more glare, then flipped her hair over her shoulder and started walking off to change out of her PE uniform. Vegeta followed a few paces behind. Before she could enter the gym, Vegeta slapped his hand across the doorway, blocking her entrance. Bulma glared at him. “What now?” She snapped at him, still feeling emotionally shaken and raw.

Vegeta glared back at her, only inches away. For a moment Bulma was't sure what he was going to do, but then he lowered his arm and took her hand in his. She tried to yank it away, but he tightened his grip and tugged her closer so that he could see her hand better.

“Keep still,” he snapped at her, and Bulma stopped struggling. Vegeta ran his thumb over her knuckles, and then put pressure on them. “Does this hurt?” he asked.

Bulma winced and nodded, biting her lip in pain. “Ow, yes.”

“Make a fist,” he told her, and she did. Vegeta grunted. “It's not likely broken. You should get some ice on it though so it doesn't swell.”

Bulma just stared at their hands, unable to bring herself to look at him. His hand was so much bigger than hers, his skin tanner, his own knuckles roughed up from fighting. He ran his thumb over her knuckles one last time before letting her go. Bulma felt something break inside of her as he did.

“I'd never let them hurt you,” he said gruffly, looking away.

Bulma swallowed thickly. “Why?” He looked back at her and she met his gaze. “We're not even friends, remember. So why would you even care?” She pushed past him and went inside the locker rooms to change, leaving Vegeta behind.

~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___~___X___ ~___X___~___X___~

AN:

Uguu :(

So friends, are there any cool DBZ or Vegebul fandom websites I should know about, or is FanFiction pretty much the main squeeze? I remember LiveJournal used to be the hip and happening place many years ago, but I think that's gone the way of MySpace. I hear tumblr is big, but I've also heard mixed opinions about that. I have twitter but that's about it. Anything you guys recommend that I should check out? Let me know, and be sure to leave a review! ^_^