Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Miscalculation ❯ Division ( Chapter 1 )

Could it possibly be possible? Could it truly be true? Yes, I'm writing another fanfic. It's been a couple of years, so I might be a bit rusty at this, but I'll give it my best shot ^_^ And, shock of all shocks, it's not yaoi! I've made the incomprehensible choice of writing about a heterosexual relationship, which is what I have experience with, rather than spinning tales of hot guys getting it on with each other, which I could never experience….fancy that :P

 

So, what's the story behind this fic? Well, I'm a long time Dragonball fan (since about 1998), and ever since I heard that Vegeta and Bulma got together, I wondered what happened to start that relationship off, since it seemed so random and not very thoroughly explained (Future Trunks just said Bulma was pissed at Yamcha for cheating on her, and Vegeta was lonely, and then “something happened”). I came up with a vague idea of my own version around the year 2001 or so, and it's been percolating in my mind ever since, with bits and pieces gradually being added and fleshed out. Now, I feel I've just got to get it out there before I get sick of thinking about it :P I know there's already five bazillion stories out there about how Bulma and Vegeta ended up conceiving Trunks, but I hope my version will be entertaining enough to stand out. Enjoy!

 

Chapter completed: 2007.06.07

 

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Miscalculation

 

Chapter 1: Division

 

Author: Sailorspazz

 

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“Who is she?” Bulma asked quietly as she took a bite of her salad.

 

Yamcha gave her a blank stare over the dim, candle lit table. “Who is who?”

 

“The girl you've been seeing.”

 

He nearly choked on his mouthful of steak. “What? What makes you think I'm--”

 

“Don't…” Bulma cut him off, “Please, don't play dumb with me. We've been together how long? I can read you like an open book. You never take me out to a fancy restaurant like this unless either it's a special occasion, or you've done something wrong. So unless there's some special anniversary or holiday today that I'm not aware of, you must have done something you're feeling guilty about.”

 

Yamcha placed his elbows on the table, seeming to try to hide his face behind clasped hands. “Bulma…I'm sorry.”

 

“You're always sorry. What's your excuse this time?”

 

Even with his hands covering his face he could still feel her glare boring into him. He shook his head. “There's no excuse. I was just stupid. I won't ask you to forgive me, but if you can, I promise I'll never--”

 

“Don't make me promises you can't keep. You've made the same promise never to cheat again several times before, and you've broken it every time. So don't waste your breath, because I know you won't change.”

 

He dropped his hands to look at her and was surprised to see that her expression was quite solemn and serious rather than the fiery anger he usually saw from her when they argued. Maybe she didn't want to cause a scene because they were in public. “Fine. You're right, I can't promise anything.”

 

“Don't you think there's something wrong with that? After sixteen years, you can't promise me anything? After sixteen years, you continue to chase after other girls? After sixteen years, we still don't know where the hell this relationship is going? Are we going to get married? Have kids? What's the point of all this?”

 

Yamcha looked down at the table, not wanting to meet her eyes. “I…I don't know. What do you want from this?”

 

“I don't know, either. And that's the problem.”

 

There was a long silence following her sobering statement. Yamcha raised his head to look at her once more. “No one knows what will happen in the future. Maybe we'll get married, maybe we won't. I thought we were okay with just staying together and seeing where things went.”

 

“But we haven't really stayed together, Yamcha. Everything's fine when times are good, but when things get rough we blow up at each other and break up. Once we've calmed down we always patch things up and get back together again. That's not a good cycle to go through. If we're seriously considering spending our lives together, we need to be there for each other through both the good and the bad, but we've proven time and time again that we can't do that. We can't say that we'll still be there for each other one, or five, or ten years down the road.”

 

“We've been together this long, Bulma, I'm sure we can stay together for many more years to come.”

 

“We can, but that doesn't mean we should. If we're just forcing ourselves, what's the point? I think…I think we should let it end, before we end up hating each other.”

 

Yamcha looked alarmed. This was very different from the breakup threats she had issued in the past. Her words were very calm and calculated, rather than thoughtlessly screamed during a passionate argument. He was afraid she might be serious. Yamcha grabbed her hand across the table. “Bulma, I love you. I could never hate you. Maybe we don't have the best relationship in the world, but I still think it's worth saving.”

 

“I don't. Goodbye, Yamcha.” She yanked her hand away from his and got up from the table.

 

“Bulma, wait!” He jumped up from his seat and started to go after her. The other restaurant patrons couldn't help but notice the scene going on between them now, but he didn't care. He couldn't let her go. “Come on, we can talk about this! Just come sit down and--”

 

“Don't come back to Capsule Corp. tonight. You still have that apartment, right? I'll have your things sent to you.” With that, she swiftly exited the restaurant, leaving a bewildered looking Yamcha standing slack jawed next to the table.

 

He grabbed a fork from their table and threw it to the floor. “Dammit!” The other diners gawked as the fork sliced cleanly through the floorboards. He flopped down into his chair, wondering what he should do. This wasn't right. After all the time they had spent together, it couldn't be over just like that. Sixteen years couldn't be undone with just one conversation. He didn't blame her for being angry with him, but he was still shocked that she would break up with him so harshly.

 

`How do I fix this?'

 

He definitely wasn't going to follow her home tonight. She would kick him out for sure. It would probably be wise not to contact her for a few days. `Maybe I shouldn't contact her at all…I'll just wait for her to call me.' That would be the best way to avoid upsetting her before she had a chance to cool down. She would come back on her own terms, Yamcha would apologize some more, and everything would be fine again. That was how it always was between them. No reason this time should be any different.

 

`She'll come back to me. I know she will.'

 

As Bulma drove her air car away from the restaurant, she felt so many emotions jumbling around in her head that she was left feeling numb. She didn't know whether she should cry, scream, laugh, or let out some manic combination of the three. She had just broken up with the man she had spent half of her life with, how was she supposed to react? After a brief struggle, the tears won out. It had been difficult. She had tried to make the breakup quick and painless, but after so many years together there was no way it wasn't going to hurt. Despite their problems, she still loved him. However, love wasn't enough to sustain a relationship lacking in trust and reliability. She had found herself beginning to resent him for their problems, and that was her cue that things needed to end. Yamcha's indiscretions had merely acted as a catalyst for what Bulma saw as the inevitable end to their relationship.

 

Now she had a new problem on her hands; though Bulma may have seen the end signs of their coupling, she was sure Yamcha had not. His reaction to their division had shown her as much. Now the problem was how to let her ex-boyfriend know that she intended to keep him that way. Even if he had realized she was serious, he was surely in denial. She was certain he was already plotting ways to try to win her back. Moreover, she was afraid, there was a part of her that wanted to be won over again. Logically, she didn't want to go back to him, but she had a feeling that if he used his charms just right he would be able to pull her back into the roller coaster ride of a relationship they had shared. She didn't want to give him the opportunity. But how could she prove to him that she wanted to move on?

 

`How can I make him not want me back?'

 

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`I must surpass him. I must surpass him.'

 

Vegeta sent punches and kicks flying into the air. Though there was no visible opponent he was sparring with, in his mind there was a particular person on the receiving end of his blows.

 

`Kakarrot…Damn you.' The Saiyan prince made his way over to the control console for the gravity machine and raised the level from 250g to 300g. It disgusted him to think of how Gokuu had achieved the level of Super Saiyan after training in 100 times Earth's gravity for six days, and yet after a year and a half of training at three times that level Vegeta was yet to reach his goal. Granted, there was more to achieving the transformation than just the amount of training one had undergone. However, if Gokuu had been able to do it, then surely Vegeta must be capable of attaining that level of power. He had to.

 

All of his life, Vegeta had strived to become the strongest. As the prince of the Saiyans, he believed it was his birthright to be the most powerful member of his race, if not the universe. He had realized early on that his strength did not exceed individuals such as Freeza, but he knew that his power was always growing, and eventually would surpass all beings of all races. The fact that he now found himself outclassed by a low-level Saiyan was unbearably frustrating and infuriating. Someone whom for most of his life did not even know of his Saiyan heritage achieved the legendary power that had not been seen for a thousand years. And that kid from the future…from the looks of him, he wasn't even a pure Saiyan, yet at only half Vegeta's age, he had accomplished a level of power that Vegeta had not yet reached during his lifetime of training.

 

`It's not right.' Vegeta activated equipment that would toss energy balls around the room to simulate the attacks of an opponent. He flew up into the air and began dodging and weaving throughout the room. He was hit by the energy balls a couple of times, but he didn't stop. He had to remain focused. He had always prided himself on his laser-like focus on realizing his full potential. Ever since he was young, he had seen those around him hindered by distractions that prevented them from achieving true greatness. Seeing Nappa get drunk off his ass and Raditz trying to get laid in lieu of training made Vegeta decide from a young age that he would abstain from alcohol, drugs, and sex in order to ensure that he would never allow such disturbances to distract him from his purpose. He had essentially taken a vow of chastity, though not for any of the usual moral reasons. There were occasions when there were temptations to break his vows: more than once when he was about to wipe out a planet full of people for Freeza, the officials from some of the planets would offer him their virgin daughters in exchange for the safety of their people. Of course, he would never fall for such a ploy, instead choosing to kill the daughters then and there before proceeding to eradicate every last being on the planet. When he compared the temporary pleasures of giving into his desires against the possibility of becoming the most powerful being the universe had ever seen, the choice was clear. It simply wasn't worth it.

 

Vegeta continued training for several more hours until he was completely exhausted. Needing to replenish his energy, he headed to the kitchen to get a snack…of course, a snack for a Saiyan was about the size of a seven course dinner for five Earthlings. As he was waiting for his food to finish cooking, a dejected looking Bulma entered the dining area. She looked over Vegeta's body and sighed. “Would it kill you to bandage up your injuries, or is bleeding all over my kitchen a necessary part of your training?”

 

Vegeta looked down at his body. There were a couple of open wounds on his arms and legs, but nothing severe enough for him to have even noticed. “These are nothing. And a couple drops of blood here and there are hardly anything to get worked up over. Just have one of your robot maids come clean it up.”

 

He expected her to start yelling at him, but was surprised to see her silently grab a paper towel and start wiping his blood off the floor. Once finished, she stood up and began to leave the room. “I'm going to go get the first aid kit. Try not to touch anything until I get back.” Vegeta was a bit puzzled at her unusually dispirited behavior, but decided to pay it no mind as he sat down to devour his meal.

 

When Bulma returned, she came over to the table and began bandaging Vegeta's arms as he ate. He was slightly irritated at this, but since it didn't interfere much with his eating, he made no attempt to stop her.

 

“Scoot your chair out so I can take care of your legs.”

 

The prince glared at her. “Don't order me around, woman.”

 

She matched his glare with an icy stare of her own. “Just do it.”

 

Vegeta was so surprised at how fearlessly she defied him that he complied with her demand. He had a slight amount of admiration for the way someone like her with no fighting ability whatsoever would dare to go face to face with someone who could kill her with a thought. He winced as she roughly wrapped bandages around his legs but she didn't seem to be in any mood for him to make a snippy comment, so he continued eating wordlessly.

 

Bulma knew she was being a bit rough on Vegeta, but she had just come home from breaking up with Yamcha and felt the need to get out a little aggression. She had quickly passed on to the anger stage of grieving for her relationship, and Vegeta was the perfect recipient for her abuse, since nothing she could do would actually harm him. It wasn't really fair to use him that way, but Bulma figured that if Vegeta did nothing around the house but consume resources, then he might as well serve the additional purpose of being her personal punching bag. Come to think of it, he might even be useful in solving her newfound problem with Yamcha…

 

“Hey, Vegeta?” Her words sounded suspiciously sweet, especially in contrast to the callous tone she had used moments before.

 

“Hmm?”

 

Bulma took a seat across from him at the table. “I'd like you to do a favor for me.”

 

“Why should I?”

 

She fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously. “Don't you want to help out a beautiful young lady in need?”

 

“Not particularly.”

 

“Well, fine,” she huffed. Obviously, such tactics weren't going to sway a guy like Vegeta. “But hear me out, anyway. Tonight I broke up with Yamcha. For good.”

 

“Uh huh.” Vegeta had heard that line before. He would hear them screaming and arguing one night about how much they hated each other, and the next night they'd be screaming with passion from their boisterous lovemaking. They were far from discreet, so Vegeta always had an idea of what was going on between them, even though he didn't want to.

 

“I'm serious! It's really, truly, finally over between us.”

 

“So what does this have to do with me?”

 

“Well, even though I know it's time to move on, I'm sure Yamcha hasn't gotten it through his thick head yet. He…he really hurt me, and I want to hurt him back.”

 

“Oh, really?” Vegeta perked up at this. He had always thought Yamcha was in need of a good beating, and he would be more than happy to administer one, even without Bulma's permission.

 

Bulma could tell by his eager expression that Vegeta was getting the wrong idea. “I mean emotionally, not physically.”

 

“Hn.” Vegeta's enthusiasm quickly drained away. What was the fun in that?

 

“So here's what I'm thinking: next week, a couple of friends of mine and Yamcha's are going to be getting married. Originally, Yamcha and I were going to attend the wedding together, but that obviously isn't going to be happening anymore. I'm sure he'll be there with his latest floozy, and he'll expect me to be so overcome with jealousy at the sight of him with another woman that I'll run into his arms, begging him to go out with me again.”

 

“How exactly do you know all this?” Vegeta said with disinterest as he took a sip of water.

 

“I've been with Yamcha long enough to know how he thinks. Little does Yamcha know that I'm not going to be there alone. I'll be there with you as my date.”

 

The water he had been drinking came spraying out of his mouth. “Me?!”

 

“Yes, you. I need to have someone there with me to show him that I've moved on.”

 

“But why should I have to do it? You're rich. Can't you just hire some guy off the street to go with you?”

 

“Ah, but Yamcha would expect that. If I show up with some random guy, it would be way too obvious. But if it's you, Yamcha won't know what to think. He'd think that you would never do a favor like this for me.”

 

“And he'd be right. What's in it for me?”

 

“Well, you can see it as an exchange for the fact that I allow you to live here rent-free while consuming more resources than is humanly possible.”

 

“But I can continue to do that without doing you any favors.”

 

Bulma stood up angrily. “You unappreciative…!” she started to rant, but quickly calmed herself down. Vegeta's temper was about as short as hers was, and if she pissed him off now she might lose her opportunity to convince him. She coughed gently and took her seat again. “How about I work on making you some new equipment to use in the gravity room?”

 

“If you can be making me new equipment, you should already be doing it. I shouldn't have to do anything special to get it.”

 

The Saiyan prince was starting to get on her last nerve, but she was determined not to lose her cool. “I promise I'll spend an entire week dedicated to researching, developing, and creating all new equipment for you to use. You'll become a Super Saiyan in no time!”

 

Now she was speaking his language. “Well, why don't you get started on that and I'll think it over.”

 

Bulma shook her head. “No, I won't start on that until after you've held up your end of the deal. I'm not dumb enough to think that you won't skip out on the date if you've already got what you wanted.”

 

Vegeta shrugged. Guilty as charged.

 

Bulma leaned across the table and grabbed his hand. “Vegeta, please do this for me. I promise, I'll never ask you for anything else ever again.”

 

Vegeta looked at her and noticed that the way she was leaning over made her cleavage quite visible. He blushed and shook her hand away. “Fine. You've got a deal. But I might change my mind, so don't get your hopes up.”

 

Bulma didn't seem to be listening as she gleefully stood up and threw her arms around him. “Oh, thank you, thank you! I promise you, this'll be totally worth it.”

 

Vegeta's blush deepened and spread all the way out to his ears. “Don't touch me!” He struggled to escape her grip, but it was futile; in all his years of combat, he had no experience untangling himself from the clutches of a friendly embrace.

 

Bulma backed away and giggled. Vegeta's apparent shyness towards women reminded her of when she had first met Yamcha. “You'd better get used to that a little. At the wedding we're going to be sitting with each other, dancing together, maybe holding hands…”

 

“I didn't agree to any of that.”

 

“Well, it's all part of a date, so technically you did.” Before Vegeta could continue his protest, Bulma started heading out the door. “Well, I'm going to call my friend Mulai and let her know there's going to be an extra guest. I'll talk to you later!”

 

Vegeta put his head in his hands. `What the hell have I gotten myself into?' It was disturbing to think that, despite the fact that he hadn't been planning to agree to Bulma's proposal, as soon as he caught a glimpse of her tits he found himself accepting immediately. So much for self-constraint. Even more unsettling was the fact that when she had told him about the close physical proximity the two of them would share on their date, Vegeta had found the idea almost comforting. He was firmly dedicated to his solitary lifestyle, but repressed desires were always simmering beneath the surface; he was worried that they might be set loose by this type of provocation.

 

Vegeta shook his head. No, he wouldn't let that happen. In fact, he reasoned, this could serve as a good exercise to test himself. How else would he know how firm his resolve was if it wasn't put on trial once in a while? If he never directly faced temptation, there was no way to know whether he could resist it or not. With his years of dedicated training, there was no reason why one mere woman should cause him to waver.

 

Still, despite his best efforts to convince himself, there was still a voice nagging in the back of his mind.

 

`I think I'm going to regret this.'

 

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Whee! After having this story in my head for so long, it feels good to finally have the first chapter finished! What did y'all think? I definitely feel a bit out of practice since it's been awhile since I wrote my last fic, but maybe it's turned out OK so far. Perhaps people might think it's unrealistic for Vegeta to still be a virgin, but come on! Why do you think he's so pissed off all the time? ^_- Anyway, I'm a busy girl so it might be awhile until I finish the next chapter, so see you whenever!