Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Oiran ❯ Part II ( Chapter 2 )

A/N: Here is the second part. Enjoy!

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Vegeta felt as though he could have blasted her right there and then for ignoring his need of her. Closing his eyes, he inhaled the heavily intoxicating body scent that hung in the air from the previous nights endeavour.

He had never been so affected by a female before and it was rather unbecoming for him. He hated having these unexpected feelings. Growling with inner turmoil, he phased out of the bed and threw on his blue gi that had been tossed carelessly to the floor.

He had to get back to his Royal quarter and check on the Saiya-jin camps. He was glad to be returning to Vegeta-sei that very evening, maybe then the cerulean eyes that haunted him would disappear. This was ridiculous as he already wanted to feel her soft skin yet again.

But as he paid his fee and made his way out of the six story Inn, he couldn't help but take a final glance at it, hoping to catch a glimpse through the windows of the female that had enticed him so much.

Smirking, he rose off his feet and blasted off towards his Royal quarters. All the while thinking one thing;

'I'll be back for you, little one.'

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The day always passed without much event for an Oiran. Today was no exception. It was only when nightfall came, that the fun would begin... Of course, being an Oiran was never fun in Bulma's eyes. An un-lady like snort exited Bulma's mouth. Evening was the time she most feared. For her, nightfall meant that she had to spend the hours behind a facade of herself. Once the sun had set, she would no longer be Bulma but a completely different person. A shell of her former self.

A ray of moonlight pierced through the gauze curtains by her dressing table, illuminating the part of the room in which she sat. Bulma stared miserably at her reflection in the large oval mirror above her dressing table. It was true, she earned much money being an Oiran and got the added luxuries that came with it. Whilst most Chikyuu-jins were living in poverty, she and the other Oirans were bathed in gold milk as a Goddess would be and clothed in the finest silks that money could buy, all gifts from their Saiya-jin patrons of course.

She blinked a few times, fluttering her thick eyelashes that needed no ounce of mascara. Taking a glass handled hair brush from the table, she ran it gently through the lush curls of azure locks that fell gracefully around her delicate shoulders.

In the pale moonlight that bathed her, she looked like a haunting angel that had been left to roam the lands of Chikyuu-sei, a mourning and ethereal beauty of a planet that had been swindled and dwindled to nothing from the great austerity it held prior to the barbaric Saiya-jins arrival. In the past five years, Bulma had acquired everything she needed to survive amongst the Saiya-jins.

But there was something missing.

Perhaps it was love. Not the love of a man, but just the pure essence of love in general. The very meaning of the word had been lost upon her for five years and she yearned, she ached to have it spring back into her life as if it had never been gone in the first place, as if it had never left her in the current desolate state she resided in. Sighing as she looked at her cherry pouted lips in the mirror, she gently but lifelessly placed the brush back onto the table in a weary manner. Even though the brush weighed nothing but a lightweight feather, she felt as though she had just placed the whole weight of the world back onto the table, such was her emotional state. With each passing day she could feel her spirit and fire wear away like a ragged pair of shoes. Worn and tattered, but still there. She was tired. So completely and utterly exhausted.

It demolished her pride to have to spend her evenings with the brutes that killed her family and... Her friends. Drawing her lips back into a semi- snarl, she glared sharp daggers at her very own reflection. Curse her beauty! The snarl drooped mildly, and instead her lower lip began to quiver from the utter emotional exhaustion she felt.

Pounding music rumbled on in the background. She could distinctly hear the music floating up six stories to her very own room. She had earned enough in the past five years to have her own room. But even that wasn't enough for the blue-haired wonder. Her existence was mundane, she wished for some form action and adventure. She had that five years ago, but just look at where it brought her now.

Using her body as a means to stay alive.

In her eyes, it was truly pathetic. Not disgusting in a sense, because she was not ashamed of the fact that she used her body to survive, she could never feel disgusted by being an Oiran, partly due to the fact that it was the only reason she was alive. It was pure and brutal disappointment she felt within herself. She knew that she could do so much better, if given the chance. But Bulma knew that it would never happen... Unless she was whisked away from her pathetic existence by a Prince Charming, one that would save her from the living nightmare in which she resided at present.

A short burst of laughter escaped her mouth. Her eyes twinkled merrily in the moonbeams that reflected upon them. That would be the day... Prince Charming indeed! She had often contemplated the thought, but in the end she chose to always brush aside her whimsical fantasy and reveled in the reality she was thrown into. If anything, she prayed to the non-existent Kami to allow death to come to her sooner, rather than later. At least it would end her prolonged suffering.

A tap on her door drew her from the morbid revelations that were occurring in the genius woman's mind.

"Come in," she called out softly, knowing it was probably one of the other Oiran's.

As if on cue, her fellow colleague and friend entered the room. "Bulma!" Kira cried in exasperation.

Bulma swivelled in her chair. "What is it?"

"Have you forgotten that you're performing tonight!?"

Bulma cringed inwardly. Kira was in fact right, it was her turn to perform on the tangible Oiran stage and she could already hear her name being echoed through the main room on the ground floor level.

The Oiran's would be on a rota every week as to who was going to perform and she had the unfortunate disposition of performing tonight. But at least she wasn't forced to give herself to any of the Saiya-jins tonight, the performance would mean she was free for the night but that she would still be paid.

"I'm sorry Kira, it slipped my mind for a second. Give me a second while I change my clothes."

She had been so caught up in her thoughts that it had slipped her mind completely. Bulma stood up and walked quickly towards her cupboard full clothes, Oiran clothes. She was about to open the door when a shiny piece of blue fabric caught her eyes. Draped over the chair was the dress she had worn the previous night whilst in the company of the Saiya-jin soldier.

She couldn't remember a thing about him except that he looked resolutely handsome in the morning after... Her thoughts lingered on the taught muscles she had seen as he sat up in bed to reprimand her. Had she given him the jolly pill? She couldn't remember for she had taken one herself.

Delicately fingering the newly washed and pressed dress, she picked it up and began to change into it. The dress had certainly become one of her favourites and if she could, she was going to wear it at any possible chance she got, before it got ripped by one of the Saiya-jins's clumsy large hands, of course.

Smoothing out the wrinkles she twirled in front of her friend. "Well?"

Kira grinned devilishly. "You're gonna knock 'em dead, kid!"

Bulma chuckled and looped her arm through the elder woman's. Together they descended a hidden stair case in the many secret passageways of the Inn, the pair came to a halt just outside the door that led to the centre of the stage.

A raucous noise could be heard from the other side. Her audience were certainly becoming a rowdy little bunch of men. Bulma's stomach began to churn unnecessarily. She hated getting on that stage and performing before the crowd of men. It was so degrading and embarrassing and yet she would rather do that than spend the night unwillingly in bed with another Saiya- jin.

"Kira.." She hissed under her breath, feeling slightly woozy.

Just as Kira was about to open the door, she stopped and looked at the goddess in blue. "What is it Bulma?" She noticed the pale shade her friend had turned, but she did that every time she had to perform anyway. Kira chuckled inwardly, bless her little blue head! "Don't worry honey, you've done this a thousand times. You'll be ok." She offered a wide smile, knowing that it might help.

Bulma smiled back shakily. "O-ok... I can do this." The chanting demands of the Saiya-jins had rendered her immobile again. "Shit." She swore under her breath as the crowd seemed to grow louder by the minute.

Kira smirked to herself evilly. She flung the door open and just as she was about to push Bulma onto the stage, she spoke in a hushed tone into her ear.

"I hear that the Saiya-jin no Ouji is also amongst the crowd this evening Bulma. Do your best to please him, he might even be in the front row. It's just a hint if you wish to kill him during your performance." She outwardly laughed at her friend's shocked and angry expression at the comment.

Kira knew her friend's hatred for the monarchy of the Saiya-jins. No doubt that this little bit of information would calm Bulma's nerves considerably and replace them with rage. This was the exact effect it had on Bulma. Without a moments hesitation, Kira pushed her roughly onto the centre of the stage.

Bulma cried emphatically as she stumbled on to the stage clumsily. She glared at the closing door that Kira stood behind. Why did her friend have to be such a bitch! It was a crude thing to think, but it was so true. Kira was undeniably a bitch.

The atmosphere had gone eerily quiet.

Once Bulma's initial shock and anger had subsided, she realized she was standing completely alone on the stage, with a large room full of Saiya- jins that were eyeing her hungrily as a child would to a piece of chocolate. In essence, chocolate was bad for you but oh-so tasty. Bulma gulped, her throat began closing up in fright. Her eyes skimmed the front row of the Saiya-jin crowd, which was slightly detached from the others. The VIP section.

It was in that instance that Bulma's eyes landed on something that shocked her very core.

*****

Vegeta folded his arms irately as he sat quietly in front of his extremely loud and annoying Saiya-jin subjects. Were they all intellectually challenged? He wondered secretly to himself, thinking that he was one of the only Saiya-jins with a brain. But of course the Saiya- jins sitting behind him were of third-class and so they were highly susceptible to stupidity. It was a known fact.

He growled, ready to blast each and every one for the noise they made.

A scowl wove its way onto his lips as he stared at the empty stage. He wondered why on Vegeta-sei's name the hostess of he Inn had seated him and his comrades here. Was there supposed to be some form of special show on? It seemed that way.

But if that was so, then where the fuck was the entertainment? His mind swam in thoughts that were plaguing his mind. They were leaving for Vegeta- sei soon and he had no clue why he had agreed to the baka third-class Radditz's idea of coming to the Inn for one final time.

Secretly, Vegeta knew why he had allowed himself to be persuaded. It was so that he could catch a glimpse of the female known as Bulma, the sultry woman he had spent the previous evening with.

Much to his protest, a shiver raced down his spine at the memories. His tail curled tightly around his waist at the thoughts that assaulted his mind. He couldn't believe that he had actually entertained the idea of taking her back with him to Vegeta-sei as his concubine.

She was breath taking in every sense of the word. She was like nothing he had encountered. In the following day, his thoughts did not seem to linger far from the piercing blue eyes that were etched into his memory. It was the opposite.

The more he tried not to think of her, the more he would. It was a continuous torturous cycle. There was still a furious debate raging within the Prince as to what he should do about the ever growing thirst he was acquiring for the mysterious woman. He snarled at his weakness for the pleasure she offered.

So here he sat, a few hours before lift off, sitting in the Inn with the most annoying bunch of Saiya-jins that had ever graced his presence, staring at an empty stage.

Sick of looking at absolutely nothing, Vegeta made the motion to close his eyes thus heightening his senses in return. In the middle of the boisterous noise, he picked up titbits of conversation.

"What's going on?!" A deep voiced Saiya-jin growled from an unknown position in the background.

"Calm down Brocco! It's the weekly performance from one of the Oirans." Another Saiya-jin with a higher pitched, cracked voice answered. Vegeta smirked. The Saiya-jin was obviously just hitting puberty. He shook his head in disgust, third-class Saiya-jins were always late in developing.

Brocco growled, "Do you know which one is performing tonight? It better be that red-hed." Brocco was know for his temper. But then again, wasn't every Saiya-jin?

"I doubt it. If my calculations are correct, it's that blue-haired one this week. They're on a rota remember?"

"Even better!" Brocco seemed elated at the news. He had almost forgotten about the blue-haired Oiran. He had her once, hadn't he? He shook his head, not being able to remember, an obvious effect of the jolly pill. Brocco, didn't seem to notice his lack of forgetfulness though.

Vegeta ears twitched at this information. He continued to hone in on the conversation, eavesdropping. So... His blue-haired minx was supposedly performing that evening.

This, he couldn't wait to see.

A silence fell over his loyal subjects. The atmosphere seemed tense and rigid. Vegeta slowly opened his eyes, almost lazily to see what the hush was about. His gaze froze on the beauty that was center stage, glaring at someone from behind the curtained part of the stage. It was the woman he had spent the previous evening with. His woman...

Vegeta raised one eyebrow as she fearfully looked out at the quieted audience. Every Saiya-jin man in the room was watching her, eyes glued with drool leaking from the corner of their mouths. Vegeta sneered in disgust at the actions of the other men. He returned his attention to the more deserving female that was stranded in the centre of the large stage. She had finally caught sight of him and he could visibly see the colour drain from her face. He chuckled inwardly; it was almost as if she were meeting him for the first time. She looked adorable with the 'lost little girl' look splayed across her features. He silently willed for her to continue with her performance, wondering what she would exactly do.

Vegeta found the perfect excuse to smirk at her deviously, and he watched as the colour from her face drained even more than before.

*****

Her stomach churned in a sickening delight. The Saiya-jin warrior she was with last night, smirked at her. It hit her at that moment, just how handsome he actually was. She had not paid attention to his chiselled features in the morning due to many reasons, one being panic. She had panicked upon finding herself still in bed with the Saiya-jin warrior and so she had left the room in a flurry of haste. The other males in the room had faded away to nothing, and Bulma's entire being was focused on the man that sat proudly in the front row. She knew he was an elite soldier from his position, and the way he carried himself. It was almost princely, but to Bulma it didn't seem too princely because of his somewhat uncaring attitude and so dismissed the idea from her head.

She stared in fascination at the abnormally large muscles that quivered beneath his tight fitting spandex armour, especially manufactured on Chikyuu-sei for the Saiya-jins. They seemed to have their own mind as they rippled with a great pride under the tightness of his armour.

Snapping her eyes away, she looked over to the back portion of the Saiya- jins. The vulgar manner in which they behaved clearly stated that they had nothing to do with the elites and were therefore classed as being third- class. She frowned inwardly, noting to herself to ask Toshio if she had ever been with a third-class Saiya-jin before. If she had, then it was definitely a cause for concern.

Composing herself, her eyes once again landed on the handsome man she had supposedly been with last night. At least he was more stoic than the other drooling little Saiya-jin fools around him. The smirk on his face, however, still remained and in fact seemed to have deepened with great sadistic amusement. She glared back, angry that her skin was starting to feel prickly and heated under his scrutinizing gaze. She let a lazy and seductive smile play on the corners of her lips. Trying to hold back the peals of giggles she felt that were about to erupt within her, she winked at him slyly.

She wanted to chuckle out loud when his strong smirk drooped slightly. Score one for Bulma the Oiran!

Vegeta let the smirk drop from his face, feeling more and more enticed by the amusing female. She certainly was full of surprises. Too bad for her, that the small gesture of a wink would cause her entire world to be turned upside down, if he had his way. Tonight would be the night of reckoning and she wouldn't be able to escape him, ever again. He let her have victory for now, but Vegeta vowed to himself that he would come out the victor in the game of cat and mouse. He cursed the Saiya-jin deities for allowing himself to be intrigued by the female. It was just another form of weakness, a weakness that he did not need and certainly did not want. But that could not outweigh the desire he felt and so he was forced to succumb to it.

Finding her nerves at ease, she continued to carry out her performance with an ease and grace that only she could possess. It had definitely been an interesting evening for the blue-haired Oiran.

*****

Bulma left the stage breathlessly, finishing her singing performance, and running straight into Kira in the secret passageway.

Kira looked at her friend in a puzzled manner. She had never seen Bulma look so flushed before. "How did it go?" She asked, suspiciously eyeing her friend up and down.

Before any form of words exited her mouth, she burst out into an uproarious laughter. "You should have seen his face Kira!!" She exclaimed, grabbing her friends hands whilst jumping up and down like an energised bunny.

Now Kira was completely confused. "Who? What?"

"The Saiya-jin soldier I was with last night. He was in the audience tonight and he thought..." She broke off into another round of laughter. Wiping a tear from her eye, she tried to speak once more. "He remembered who I was and sent me the most evil smirk!"

"What's so funny about that?"

"He thought he had the upper hand on me! It was a battle of will. You should have seen it! As soon as I winked at him, it wiped his stupid smirk straight of his face!" She sighed happily, it always pleased her to have one over on the Saiya-jins. "He thought he could frighten me with that knowing smirk, but I sure showed him!" She was extremely proud that she was handling the situation like an... Adult. If you counted an adult being like a jumping toy on hopped up batteries.

Kira smiled. "Care to show me which Saiya-jin you're talking about?"

Bulma nodded, tossing her hair back. Grabbing her friend's hand, she manoeuvred herself onto the stage, just behind the velvet red curtain. She looked back to make sure Kira was still behind and coyly peeked out the side of the curtain. Sure enough, the handsome Saiya-jin was just making his way back to the seat he had previously sat in, looking more annoyed than usual. Bulma wondered where he had just gone and why he was looking so agitated, curiosity was always a strong point in her. "There he is!" She whispered, pulling Kira in front of her but making sure she was still behind the curtain.

Kira looked down at the front row from her hiding place. "Which one?" She hissed, trying not be loud even though she was sure they would not be heard. But you never knew with Saiya-jins. They were sly creatures and untrustworthy. There were too many soldiers in the front row, surrounding the Prince of all Saiya-jins who had just sat down. Perhaps he had missed Bulma's performance, the abstract thought crossed Kira's mind. Of course it never once entered her mind that he was the one Bulma had excited herself over.

The loud chatter of the Saiya-jins miraculously hid away the two women's presence. Bulma craned her neck around the curtain, still making sure her she was hidden from view. "The one with the funny looking hair, the flame hair," she found herself murmuring into her friend's ear.

Kira gasped, whirling around. She knew exactly who Bulma was talking about! Pushing her out the side door, she shook her head profusely. "Bulma you can't mean him. He's the-!" But her sentence was never allowed to be finished.

A manly voice cut through their conversation. "Bulma, I need to talk to you." Toshio looked back from his two favourite Oirans. A saddened expression crossed his face as his eyes danced across Bulma's rose-tinted cheeks and pouted lips.

Bulma tore her gaze away from her friend's, confused by her sudden outburst. "Sure Toshio. I'll be with you in a minute."

"No," he took hold of her upper arm and towed her away from an open-mouthed Kira. "I'm sorry Bulma, but I need to talk to you now. It's important."

Bulma looked behind her and frowned at Kira as she was pulled away by Toshio. She mouthed 'Sorry' to her friend, shrugging. Toshio was certainly acting strange, but he had better have a good excuse for pulling her away from Kira. After all, they were in the middle of a serious one to one conversation. She wondered what Kira had been talking about of her Saiya- jin soldier. Shaking her head, Toshio silently led her to his office through one of the many secret passageways in the Inn.

Why was everyone acting so strange all of a sudden?

*****

Vegeta sat still as he glared at another singing Oiran on stage. He cringed inwardly. She seemed to have the most hilariously awful voice he had ever heard before in his entire life! What drab entertainment! He sneered as the out of tune voice drummed through his sensitive ears. He was thankful that at least the blue-haired Chikyuu-jin could sing much better than this warbling, cockroach sounding creature.

Once again, his thoughts seemed to have returned to the blue beauty.

He smirked.

It would be a shame to let her slip away. Besides, he had no choice but to take her.

*****

Bulma felt her heart break as she stared at Toshio. Her knees felt weak and unstable, causing her to slump lifelessly into Toshio's office chair. "Why?" She croaked out lifelessly, no longer sounding like herself. She sounded dead. Hollow. She had never felt such heart ache since the day that the Saiya-jins had took everything away from her. She let her lifeless gaze slide over to the extremely large, bald Saiya-jin standing stoically but uncomfortably in the small office.

"I had to," Toshio crouched down next to the slumped woman, his friend. "I'm sorry... Bulma...?" He gently stroked her hair, causing her to have an ounce of spark back in her crushed demeanour.

Bulma jumped up, wrenching away from his touch. "You bastard!" She screamed, tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. But she wouldn't allow them to. She was sick of crying, sick of being an emotional, simpering fool. "How could you do this to me? After everything I did for you, this is what you do?!"

He reached out to touch her face, to calm her. Toshio was becoming extremely worried, but how could he console her? He didn't think he could and so he let her rant away.

She roughly slapped his outstretched hand away. "Don't you fucking touch me," she spat with all the venom her voice could muster. "You..." She screeched, knocking over the chair, causing the bald Saiya-jin to hide a smirk of amusement. She was definitely going to be a challenge. "You complete asshole.. You mother fucking son of a bitch!! How dare you sell me off as though I were a piece of property and for what? Money?! If you wanted it so badly, I would have done double the work if you had asked... But to sell me off...?" Her voice had already lost the rage, she only felt hurt and betrayed. Letting out a cry of defeat, she fell to the floor and landed roughly on her knees. Bitter tears seeped out onto the floor.

"Please forgive me..." Toshio gently pulled her up and carefully wiped the tears away. How could he tell her that he didn't have a choice in the matter? That he didn't want the large amount of money that was offered for her. How could he tell her that if he refused, he would have been tortured and killed? It was a dog eat dog world and even though she was a friend, he had to think of himself too. He knew she would be fine, if she would just get over her hatred for Saiya-jins. He dreaded to think what her reaction would be like if she knew to whom she was being sold.

Bulma looked down at the floor, not daring to look her 'friend' and employer in the eye. "I hate you..." She whispered, once again pulling out of his grasp.

Toshio stared blankly at her, but winced inwardly at the harsh words. The damage had been done, and he couldn't do anything to reverse the pain she felt. "Pack your things, you can take anything you want within limit of course." His voice had hardened and become cold, unlike any other she had heard before. "Once you are ready to leave, this elite soldier will escort you to the ship that leaves for Vegeta-sei tonight." He waved to Nappa.

She hardened her stare on her so-called friend. "Can I ask to whom I am being 'sold' to?"

The rough tone of her voice caused Toshio to falter in his fake resolve. Shaking away any protective feelings he felt for her, he glared back. "The Saiya-jin no Ouji."

Bulma looked back, as though she had been stabbed repeatedly by one of her own siblings. Whirling around, she wrenched the door open and ran towards her room. If he wanted her gone then fine! She wasn't going to stay another minute in this hell hole. If he didn't care, then why should she? She would surely be treated much more better if she belonged to a Prince.

Of course, Bulma knew she hated the monarchy of Vegeta-sei with a passion, so she didn't know how she would react to the Saiya-jin no Ouji... She wasn't going to allow her body to be defiled by the very own Saiya-jin monarchy that had caused the ultimate downfall of Chikyuu-sei. She would rather die than allow that to happen. She would give Toshio what he wanted, she would leave and she would never return. As soon as they landed on Vegeta-sei, she would find a way out of her untimely predicament and leave all of her ghosts behind. She would make a new life for herself.

Her feet pounded against the rough wooden floor as she made her way to her room, a trail of tears left in her wake.

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Bulma clutched the small satchel of capsules to her chest. They contained her entire world and her soul. Pictures of her friends and family, odd but valuable bits off the mantelpiece in her father's study, a few tapes and walkman, books of all kinds and some other trinkets she had gathered before the Saiya-jins had managed to destroy her home...

She struggled to keep up with the large bald man ahead of her as they made their way through the winding corridors of the large ship. Upon finding herself short of breath, she decided to speak up. "Nappa-san!"

The elite soldier came to a halt. He frowned and turned his head slightly. "What is it?" He noticed her lack of respect as she stared directly at him, so he snarled.

"Can you please slow down," she lowered her head. Bulma had never submitted herself to anyone before the Saiya-jins arrived. She had always been head strong and extremely stubborn. But five years of hell could change a person.

He stared at her emphatically. He rolled his eyes, she clearly needed a little toughening up! Little did Nappa know, was that the small female that stood next to him, could chew his ear off with her nagging if she wished to do so.

A grunt was the only response she received and Bulma was shocked to find him slow his pace. A smile played on her lips, he seemed like a giant teddy bear! He was a bit rough on the edges, but she was sure that if she delved deeper, she would find a soft centre to him. It was too bad she wouldn't be sticking around to help him develop his emotions.

She was brought away from her thoughts as he stopped walking once again and began punching his stubby index finger into a computerized console. She watched in interest as the large double glass doors buzzed and slid open. They were once again walking down a large hallway, which somehow seemed as though it didn't belong in the ship at all. The rest of the ship seemed to be dull in comparison to this hallway.

If she squinted with her eyes and looked closely, she was able to see something like silver and gold water running through the swirls of designs in the wall. Her eyes widened. Was that a real form of liquid that was flowing through the thin swirls and curves on the walls? It seemed so... But how was such a thing possible? She dared to ask the silent Saiya-jin. "Nappa- san, would you mind me asking a question?"

Nappa merely grunted and waited for her question as they walked down the long hallway.

"Is that some sort of real liquid running through the swirls in the walls?"

He had to smirk. She was certainly a curious little thing. "Yes."

"It looks very pretty, I didn't Saiya-jins liked to have such plush interior decorating."

Nappa chuckled, "Silly Chikyuu-jin. It has nothing to do with prettiness."

Bulma frowned and tilted her head as she ran her hand across the swirls in the wall as she walked past. To her surprise, it didn't seem wet at all. "Then what is it?"

Nappa shook his head whilst rolling his eyes. He was beginning to get a little irritated with her questions. "It is regenerative fuel for the ship. Because Saiya-jins are in constant need of ships, it is the best way to keep our reserves to a full level. Without it, we would find the need to stop for fuel on every other planet we visit."

She nodded, thinking it was an ingenious idea indeed. "Why is it that I could only see it when we came through this hallway?"

"You ask too many questions, but if you must know, it was the King's desire for the Royal ship to have the fuel's pattern on view in the Royal quarters. He does not like things hidden from him and for some reason... Enjoys the pattern and colour of the fuel. So he had ordered that the Royal wing of the ship be decorated in such a way. No other Saiya-jin is allowed to enter this part of the ship, so I would consider yourself lucky to have the privilege." Nappa almost cringed in shame at the thought in interior decorating. How could a Saiya-jin even contemplate the idea of having such a joyous luxury? They were a warrior race, not a bunch of interior decorators. So, for the first time, Nappa had to admit that he couldn't wait for the Prince to ascend as King so he could abolish such trifle things. He came to a halt outside another set of large double frosted glass doors.

Bulma gaped at the contents of the room as she stared through the glass doors, she had to look very closely as the doors were frosted in what seemed like dry ice. Everything inside was most certainly fit for royalty. Through the doors, she could see the large room was almost like a miniature house.

They stepped inside and Bulma looked around the room in wonder. The walls still had the strange silver and gold liquid running through the thin swirls and cracks, and they looked much more beautiful in the dark yet brilliant room. In the centre of the room was a very large bed that could probably house at least five people. Five Chikyuu-jin people, mind you. The bed was draped in beautiful black satin sheets and donned with a set of largely, square and round black satin pillows. It looked fit for a King.

Her eyes took in every meticulous detail. From the plush cream carpet beneath her feet to the hidden fireplace beside the bed. There was a strange looking sofa on the far side of the room, which was twisted in a pretzel shape and beyond it was what seemed to be a large television. Everything about the room screamed Royalty as she stared impressively at the twisted yet artistic marble statue of a woman clutching a strange looking bundle to her chest. At the foot of the statue was an inscription in strange looking symbols, to which Bulma assumed was written in the Saiya- jin language. It was placed in one of the corners of the room, surrounded by long stalks of ivy and a few odd looking white flowers. She couldn't help thinking of how it reminded her of the young girl that had been killed viciously by the Saiya-jin soldier. Beside the statue was what seemed like an endless book case, filled to the brim with leather bound books, much to Bulma's joy she found that some of them were in her native tongue.

She looked to her left and saw another set of glass doors. This time, they weren't frosted and she could see right through them. It was without a question the bathroom. Even that looked awe inspiring with its large round black tub set into the floor with gold plated taps. She noticed a shower stall on the other side of the tub and she thanked Kami. She had gotten so tired of taking baths! She had missed her showers so much and was glad for the change. She turned slowly to the large Saiya-jin. "I-Is this my room?" She asked hesitantly, afraid that he would laugh in her face and say it was not fit for the likes of her.

But he did no such thing.

Nappa simply nodded. "For now, yes. It is for the Prince to decide whether or not he wants you to remain in his room."

Bulma frowned. "This is his room?" Nappa nodded again. It did explain the lack of colour. She had heard many rumours of the Prince being cold and unkind, cruel and merciless. She wondered if he would be that way with her. Most probably.

"He told me to bring you here. He is currently making his way to the ship and will join you soon. In the mean time, I suggest you stay put and don't touch anything. After lift off, we will arrive on Vegeta-sei after approximately three Chikyuu-jin days." Without waiting for an answer, he exited the room leaving her all alone. He had other matters to attend to and didn't have time to look after an annoying Chikyuu-jin female.

As the frosted glass doors shut behind him, Bulma turned back to face the beautifully decorated room. Slowly walking to the large bed, she softly climbed on top and huddled into the corner of the bed. She felt so alone, so frightened. She hadn't felt this way since the Saiya-jins had first invaded Chikyuu-sei. Resting her forehead against her knee caps, she closed her eyes and hummed a soothing tune.

It always helped her to sing, it would always calm her nerves. But at that moment, it only made things worse. She wouldn't allow the tears to exit her eyes, even though they remained there. She felt completely bitter and hollow inside. Bitter at Toshio for pretending to befriend her and hollow to come to terms with the idea she was leaving her home planet for good. She wished so many times that she could join her parents and friends in Heaven, but there was no way she could lower herself to commit suicide... Could she?

A shudder coursed through her small body and a hazy aura filled her consciousness as she felt her eyes droop, lulled into sleep by the haunting tune.

*****

Vegeta stepped wearily into his large bedroom. He was surprised to find his little Oiran curled up into a ball and already asleep on the large bed. A scowl wove its way onto his face. He walked up to her as she slept and was about to shake her awake, when he paused and contemplated his actions. Pulling his hand back, he glowered down at her sleeping form and simply spoke.

"Wake up!" He snapped, for some reason he wished his voice didn't sound so harsh.

Bulma gasped at the sudden outburst and snapped her eyes open. She sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes, blinking away the sleep. When she finally became coherent enough, she gaped at the Saiya-jin soldier before her.

Her eyes widened in realization and she jumped off the bed, backing away from the man that had a cruel expression across his features. "YOU!" Why on Chikyuu-sei was he here?!

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