Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Night Prowler ❯ Chapter 4

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Chapter 4

Vegeta went through the motions of his training regiment, but his mind was elsewhere. He knew he would have to leave Bulma again tonight. He hated doing it, but he couldn't seem to stop either. What started out to be a one time thing quickly became an addiction. A necessity. Almost an obsession.

Bulma was beginning to suspect something. He could understand why. Since she was human, and a female one at that, it was only natural for her to be concerned about how much he had changed. He thought it was a waste of time, but was used to it by now.

He fought so hard against it all week that it took a toll on his physical, as well as mental, well-being. When he could deny himself no longer, he had to admit defeat and give in to it. His need outweighing his guilt every time. His only consolation being that, afterwards, he would again be able to feel normal and devote all his energies toward his training . . . and Bulma.

"Computer. Lower to one times gravity," Vegeta ordered. His voice was hoarse from the dryness of his throat.

Even though his training time wasn't even half over, he could stand it no longer. There were too many demons in his head to continue the same old routine. Instead, he paced back and forth within the gravity chamber, alternately looking forward to nightfall and dreading it. While he waited, he ran through his plans over and over to make sure he had not forgotten anything.

He had an extra pair of clothes hidden in an old hollow tree. He didn't want to risk Bulma finding any traces of what he had been doing. Like when she discovered the spot on his shirt. He would stop there on the way and change.

He would have to keep to the forest until he came to the edge of town so he would not be seen. Sooner or later Bulma would think to have him followed. Unless she talked one of the other fighters into doing it, which he doubted would happen, he was certain he could evade any followers.

Afterwards, he would go down to the river and take a quick dip while he flew over it. The first night he had been lucky that he was able to keep Bulma at arm's length. He got in the shower without her noticing anything unusual. Luckily, she didn't have the keep senses of a Saiyan. Now he made sure to wash any evidence off before returning home.

Once he was clean and redressed, he would race back to Bulma's waiting arms - the demons exorcized once more. He would be able to train again. He would be able to sleep soundly again. He would feel normal again . . . for a while at least.

He stopped his pacing and looked down at his hands. They were shaking. No amount of willpower he was able to exert could stop them. Anxious to get going, Vegeta shut down the chamber and headed into the house. Bulma was standing in the doorway waiting for him. He tried to slip passed her, but she blocked his attempt.

"Vegeta, I want to talk to you." Her calm voice got his attention. He was used to her yelling moods and her worry moods, but this was different. She was deadly serious!

"What?" he asked, even though he already knew what was on her mind. He fought the urge to knock her out of his way and kept his arms folded to hide his shaking hands.

"I need to know where you go whenever you take off at night." It was not a question. It was not a request. It was bordering on a direct order.

"No. You don't," he said and tried to pass by again without touching her. She held out a hand and grabbed his shoulder to stop him.

"Vegeta."

His first reaction was to pull away from her touch, but the pained look in her eyes tore at his heart. She did deserve some sort of explanation, but he knew he couldn't tell her the truth. She wouldn't like it. He didn't like it himself.

"Are you seeing another woman?" she blurted out.

"What in the world have you that idea?" he laughed. His shocked expression helped to ease her fears and the laugh made her feel silly for even thinking such a thing. To Vegeta, the laugh was out of pure relief. He had been so afraid that she would guess his secret, he never saw it from her point of view.

"But if it isn't a woman . . . where do you go?" she asked again, now slightly embarrassed for doubting his feelings for her.

"I just need to get out every now and then," he answered, looking Bulma straight in the eyes. The half-truth slipped easily off his tongue. "I'm just not used to being cooped up like this, you know. Without anyone to fight, I feel caged." Without any further explanations, he walked into the house. She let him go.

Bulma let out a sigh of relief. She thought she was beginning to understand him now. He was just a warrior without anywhere to go or anyone to fight. If Goku were still alive, he would at least have someone to spar with. It was like taking a mighty tiger from the jungle and putting him in a zoo.

"Well," she thought, "at least I know he isn't having an affair with another woman! He just needs to get out every now and then to release some pent up energy. And since he always comes back feeling better . . . he can't be doing anything really bad."