Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Colours Within ❯ Solution of the Accused ( Chapter 4 )

A/N: So sorry for the long update. I've been busy and had a lot of trouble writing this chapter for some reason. I hope it's still up to the standards v.v It's shorter than the others but I feel that I ended it in a good place. I think that if I had written the next scene it would have ended up being the longest chapter in the history of stories since I'm not sure I could have ended it immediately afterwards :P

 

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. :D Special thanks to pitkat for your two cents. I tried to keep that in mind for this chapter (and will for future chapters too, of course)

 

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four. solution of the accused.

 

Puar hovered around anxiously. His eyes swept over towards his friend at regular intervals, but he refrained from staring openly and pretended to be more engrossed in the infomercial advertising a food processor. Yamcha made no attempt to pretend to be interesting in the food processor, and openly fumed as he sat stiffly on the couch with his arms folded, a very Vegeta-like expression on his face.

 

Puar cast another inconspicuous glance towards Yamcha, and wondered if he dared ask. He knew that asking could unleash a torrent of anger that would be better kept in check until more time had passed. At the same time, Puar knew that it would help if Yamcha talked about it. He decided to dare.

 

“Yamcha…” he began hesitantly, “is something wrong?”

 

The corner of Yamcha's mouth twitched as though he wanted to speak, but he kept his mouth shut and said nothing.

 

“Are you mad about something?” Puar pressed.

 

“Mad?” Yamcha echoed.

 

There was a brief pause before Puar realized that Yamcha had finished talking. “Yeah. You seem mad.”

 

“No,” said Yamcha. His tone was calm but low and firm. “I'm not mad.”

 

“But… you're acting mad…” Puar said, unsure as to whom Yamcha was trying to convince otherwise.

 

“I'm not mad,” he repeated. “I'm goddamn furious.”

 

Puar regretted asking. No sooner had Yamcha spoken than his fist slammed into the coffee table in front of him, successfully cracking it in two. The contents spilled onto the carpet, and Puar was sure that the Coke would leave a stain if not cleaned up quickly. But Yamcha made no move to wipe up the pop that was seeping into the floor.

 

Puar turned back to the livid warrior, and decided to risk it again. “But why?”

 

“Why?” Yamcha's eyes, narrowed slits of fury, turned to rest on Puar. “You want to know why?”

 

Puar was about to say no, he didn't actually want to know after all, but Yamcha continued on in his growing fury.

 

“Maybe it's because Bulma rushes to help Vegeta and totally forgets about me! It's his own fault that the gravity room exploded - if he wasn't so stupid and didn't push himself so hard to try to prove that he's so strong, it wouldn't have blown up and he wouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place!”

 

“But—“

 

“Then Bulma spends the entire night in the hospital wing with Vegeta for God knows what reason! It's not as if he'll appreciate her concern or the time she put into making sure he was okay! That bastard deserves to rot, and if he doesn't awake from his unconsciousness after blowing himself up then that's not her problem!”

 

“How do you know she spent—“

 

“Her mother told me!” Yamcha roared, clearly agitated.

 

“That's a bit nosy, don't you think?”

 

Yamcha chose to ignore this comment. “I think there's something going on between those two!” he accused instead. “I think that something happened on Namek, that's what I think! And I think that's why Bulma was so willing to give Vegeta a room at the Capsule Corp. and why she was so worried when he nearly killed himself.”

 

Puar thought this ludicrous but chose not to comment.

 

“What can she possibly see in that bastard?” cried Yamcha. “He's a murderous, arrogant, prick! He came to my home and killed me! Do you understand what I'm saying? And now my girlfriend is having an affair with him!”

 

“You don't know that.”

 

Yamcha looked at him pointedly. “I do know that.”

 

“But how? You don't have any proof, Yamcha, just your assumptions.”

 

He frowned. “Who would know for sure?”

 

Puar thought for a brief moment. “Goku might,” he suggested after a moment. “Him and Bulma are close, aren't they?”

 

“Yes,” Yamcha said decisively. “They are.”

 

Without another second's thought, he reached over to the table beside the couch and yanked the receiver from the base. He jabbed the Son's number into the phone so hard that Puar thought that the phone, too, would break in two. The silence was thick in the room for a few moments before someone answered the phone on the other end.

 

“Hi, Chichi? This is Yamcha. … I'm fine, you? … That's good to hear. Listen, I need to talk to Goku for a minute. Is he there? … No, it's nothing to do with the androids. … Thanks.”

 

Puar continued to wait uneasily as another hush blanketed the room. Then Yamcha began to speak again.

 

“Hey Goku. How's it goin'?” he asked, and Puar heard his voice become more strained as he forced himself to remain calm. “Good. I have a question for you.”

 

“Is it about the androids?” Goku asked immediately.

 

“No. Chichi asked me exactly the same thing. It's about Bulma.”

 

“Is she hurt?” Goku demanded next. “Did something happen?”

 

“No,” Yamcha replied evenly. “I need to know if something is going on between her and Vegeta.”

 

Yamcha felt a feeling of dread sink to the pit of his stomach at the awkward, extended silence that followed. Goku knew something, he was sure of it; the issue lay in whether or not Goku would tell him.

 

“Why do you ask?” Goku asked at last.

 

“Just tell me if there is.”

 

“She didn't say anything to me about it.”

 

Yamcha briefly relayed the story to Goku, explaining about Vegeta's accident and Bulma's misplaced concern. “Do you know anything? Did anybody hint at something?”

 

“The only people I've talked to in weeks have been Gohan and Piccolo and I know they haven't talked to her or Vegeta.”

 

Puar watched as Yamcha's face darkened. “So do you think they are then? Doing anything?”

 

“Wouldn't Bulma tell you about it if they were?”

 

“That isn't what I asked,” Yamcha snapped irritably.

 

“No. I don't think they're doing anything.”

 

“I woulda thought that you of all people would be honest with me, Goku.”

 

A small frown came to the Saiya-jin's face. Goku had been honest with him. Vegeta had only moved into the Capsule Corporation three months ago, and Goku reasoned that nothing could have happened between them in such a short amount of time. Neither of them liked one another and, from what he had heard, they were actually rather hostile towards each other. Plus Goku had faith in Bulma's integrity and he was certain Bulma would let Yamcha know, somehow, if she had found someone else - especially since she herself had been cheated on by Yamcha.

 

“I don't understand why you would ask me what I thought if you're gonna think I'm lying anyway,” Goku replied.

 

“Why'd you take so long to answer, then, if you aren't lying?” Yamcha demanded.

 

Goku's brain began running at one hundred kilometres per hour. “'Cause I couldn't understand why you'd ask something like that,” he replied, the lie falling uncharacteristically smoothly from his lips. “Bulma wouldn't lie to you.”

 

“Would you?” Yamcha asked skeptically.

 

“No!”

 

There was a long sigh and a brief pause. “I'm still worried.”

 

“You should talk to Bulma about it. She would know best what's going on.”

 

“I guess.”

 

Goku's tone turned reassuring. “Don't worry about it. I'm sure nothing's going on.”

 

“I guess not.”

 

Puar's tail twitched as he listened to Yamcha say his good-byes and hang up the phone. The warrior sat back in the couch for a moment, before turning to face his friend. “Goku doesn't seem to think anything's going on, but he hasn't talked to Bulma in a while. He said I should talk to her.”

 

“Will you?”

 

“I guess,” Yamcha muttered. “But not now. I want to see if she calls or drops by first.”

 

Goku, meanwhile, sighed in relief miles away in his small house in the mountains. How he had managed to get himself out of that predicament he was sure he'd never know. But he believed it was true what he had said - there was nothing to worry about now.

 

He also realized that something along the way had done a complete one-eighty - since when did he choose to protect a strange boy he'd met but once and an aggressive warrior who had been bent on destroying him over one of his oldest and best friends?

 

It was for Bulma's benefit. She had chosen Vegeta over Yamcha in the future, and Goku felt that she deserved the opportunity to make whichever decision she wanted in the present as well, without being influenced by one side or another. As long as Vegeta was seen as a neutral party, holding no competition with Yamcha, Bulma wouldn't be pressured to drive the Saiya-jin away; as long as Yamcha didn't cheat on her again, or become maddeningly jealous, or grow over-protective of Bulma in Vegeta's presence, Bulma wouldn't feel the need to push Yamcha away.

 

Goku thought vaguely that the future Bulma had more than likely been pushed towards Vegeta in Yamcha's attempt to keep her away from him than she had been pulled towards Vegeta by the Saiya-jin himself.

 

///

 

Muffled sounds reached Vegeta's ears and he strained to make them out, not daring to open his eyes until he knew who or what it was. After a few moments he realized that they were voices but it was a few seconds more before the words made sense to him.

 

“…can't eat right now.”

 

“But why ever not?”

 

“He's not even awake, dear.”

 

“Well, I'll just leave it here for when he wakes up.”

 

“Who knows when that will be! Just take it back, he'll eat something when he wakes up.”

 

“No, I'll leave it here.”

 

There was the sound of something being placed on something else, a sigh, and then footsteps retreating. Another set of feet walked in the opposite direction, nearer Vegeta, and then there was the sound of a chair scraping back against the floor.

 

Vegeta allowed his eyes to open, and he saw that Dr. Briefs was seated at the desk, scribbling away. He shifted, propping himself up ever so slightly on one elbow; hearing him, Dr. Briefs looked up abruptly. He smiled warmly as he saw Vegeta watching him blearily.

 

“Awake, are we?”

 

“Observant.”

 

The smile was instantly replaced by a frown at Vegeta's mocking comment. “Yes, well,” he huffed. “Aren't you interested to know how long you've been out for?”

 

Vegeta shrugged, nonchalant. “An hour? Maybe two.”

 

Dr. Briefs released a bark of laughter, loud and boisterous. “Wouldn't you like to think so?” he mused. “Try three days.”

 

“Three days!?”

 

The doctor nodded. “And two nights. You regained consciousness yesterday evening, but I don't suppose you would remember. You fell asleep almost immediately after.”

 

“You're lying.”

 

“'Fraid not. Today is Friday. Evening,” he added, as an afterthought.

 

“Fuck!” Vegeta swore loudly. “I need-!”

 

“To train?” Dr. Briefs interrupted. “I don't think so. The reason you fell unconscious in the first place was because you over-exerted yourself before you were ready. Your body was still exhausted and trying to heal from the last accident you had. You pushed yourself to the absolute limit and your body - Saiya-jin though it is - couldn't handle the pressure you were putting on it. As Bulma put it, `It crapped out on you.' I hope you'll learn from your mistake and rest for the next little while.”

 

Vegeta scoffed loudly. “And who are you to stop me, old man?”

 

“I won't stop you if you insist on training, but I'm sure you'll realize quickly enough that if you do too much too soon your body will crap out on you again and you'll end up spending more time in the medical wing than you do in the gravity room. But you're free to do as you wish.”

 

The calmness of Dr. Briefs' tone irritated Vegeta. It was very obvious what Vegeta's instructions were - stay in bed and rest - but the doctor twisted them until it sounded as though Vegeta had a choice in the matter. Worse was the fact that he realized Dr. Briefs had a point: If he didn't take things slowly then he'd spend the majority of the next three years in the hospital.

 

Finally, not knowing what else to say, Vegeta demanded food.

 

“You have fantastic timing,” Dr. Briefs praised. “Bunny just brought dinner for you.”

 

///

 

A chill ran down Bulma's spine as Aiko's words registered. Vegeta was awake.

 

“Thank you,” Bulma said into the intercom quietly.

 

“Will you be in to see him soon?” Aiko inquired, remembering how Bulma had rarely left his bedside the first time he'd been admitted to the hospital wing after the accident. Granted, Bulma had spent much of her time in the labs since he'd been readmitted.

 

“No. I don't think I will.”

 

“Is there nothing you feel you should tell him?”

 

“I'll pass a message along with somebody if I think of anything. I'm sure my dad will have told him everything he'll need and want to know. I'm too busy to deal with his ridiculous antics.”

 

The first time Vegeta had landed himself in the medical wing, Aiko had understood Bulma's concern. A guest of hers had nearly blown himself up - it was not something that looked good on the Capsule Corporation's record. Not only that, but Vegeta had greatly injured himself and Aiko was amazed that he had pulled through, and was even more shocked when Dr. Briefs had shrugged it off, saying there had been no doubt that he would. This time she felt the injury could have very easily been avoided had Vegeta had more sense. She was sure Bulma felt the same way, and thus was the reason for her irritability towards him. The president of the largest company in Asia certainly had more important things to worry about rather than a moronic guest who would pull through.

 

“I'll let you know if any other information is sent down,” Aiko said, and disconnected.

 

In her office, Bulma leaned back in her chair, her heart pounding. Vegeta was awake again, and that meant he would be up and about in no time. That meant he and Bulma would undoubtedly bump into each other sooner or later. That meant he might attack her again.

 

Bulma had taken to wearing turtlenecks and scarves the past couple days, which she credited to the cold snap that had taken hold of the city that first week of December. She had no intention of letting anyone see the dark purple bruise that encircled her neck. She had toyed briefly with calling the police but decided against it - the last thing she wanted was more negative attention shined on her because of Vegeta. Besides, Vegeta could easily wipe out the entire planet if he got backed into a corner. It would certainly solve any of his problems regarding the cops.

 

Bulma had felt safe and content only as long as Vegeta had been cataleptic on the other side of the compound, secured in the medical wing. Though she was sure he would spend at least one more night with the medics, he would most likely be wandering about the campus the following day. Bulma had to find something to do that would keep her out of the house for the majority of the day.

 

A smile came to her lips as she thought of the solution: Yamcha.