Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Legend Of the Bond ❯ His bonded...fate's cruel curveball ( Chapter 6 )

A contented warmth surrounded Bulma. Both of her parents were not far from her. She could clearly see her father as he relaxed in his favorite lawn chair, sipping coffee, watching his wife busily fussing over the flowers in her garden. Bulma felt herself lying in a hammock adorned with pillows while a pair of strong warm arms held her tight. She lazily swayed in the shade but could feel the light everywhere around her. The sun was bright, the sky was blue…so very blue. Bulma could hear her mother humming one of her favorite tunes, enjoying her garden and Bulma leaned back as the arms that held her so close became tighter. She felt so safe and happy! But the color of the sky in her happiness was blue…not red…blue…

Bulma woke from her dream praying it was real, but as she looked around the dark room, she realized her prayer was in vain. She was laying on a bed in the medical office and the smell told her that her body was clean, although with rejuvenation chemicals. Obviously, she’d just gotten out of a rejuvenation tank, not quite knowing why she had been placed in one in the first place. Bulma’s experience around the machines had given her knowledge of such things.

Her mind went blank for a moment. Was she…alive?

All she could remember about what happened was that Chili had beaten her for two hours. Her beatings began in the same way. First, she was forced to strip off all her clothing then he would use his cruelest equipment on her. She felt no shame at her nakedness, but the very act was degrading, and Chili liked to humiliate her in every possible way, just to add to her torment. Despite her nakedness, Chili never touched her. Bulma knew he had a thing for women of his own spieces, and was silently grateful for that. Had she blacked out while Chili was beating her, then she was done for. After the first hour passed, she recalled attempting to resist him but was restrained somehow.

Bulma blinked. She was alive! And happy…so happy to simply be alive! The whispers were oddly quiet. It left her feeling lonely but grateful for the peace their absence gave her.

Bulma sat up and looked around again. She was the only one in the dark room, in a soft bed that felt both comfortable and uncomfortable. Sleeping on a hard floor like bed for four years could do that to a person. There were a few other beds but they looked unused for quite some time. Bulma then noticed she felt good, better then she had been for a long while. She looked down at her arms and saw that most of her scars were gone. Feeling the need to relieve herself, she got up from the bed and walked into the adjoining bathing facility. When she was done, she stood and stared into the first mirror she saw. Bulma signed in relief when she saw her reflection. Her face held no scars, no marks and her teeth were clean and all intact, something she worked very hard on for the last four years. She was grateful that she could keep her beauty.

Outside the medical office’s holding room, three Saiya-jins were discussing their next actions regarding their current charge and her future, though all were silent on the Prince’s curious instructions, none of them had dared question him. He was their Prince. He was strong and capable, and to a one held their loyalties. Seripa held onto Bulma’s belongings, including the belt and handmade pocket, but restrained herself from opening it to look at its contents. While Bulma was in the rejuvenation chamber, she gotten her a new slave robe and cleaned the training suit she had given her.

Kakarotto had questions he wanted to ask of the blue-haired slave. “I wish to speak with her and take her back to her chambers,” he said to the other two.

Bardock, seemed to care less. “I don’t think any of us should be here. Let a slave take care of her, as she is a slave herself,” he said. In his mind, they all had other and much more pressing duties to perform.

“Let me at least give her back her things,” a concerned Seripa added, hoping to see her slave. When she had arrived in the Slave Master’s chambers, it was obvious to a disappointed Seripa that Bulma hadn’t fought back and she wanted to know why.

Bardock sighed. “Fine, you may both see to her, but I have important things to attend to, but don’t’ forget to ask her about her abilities.” With that, Bardock left. Inwardly, he was relieved that the girl recovered just fine. When he pulled her unconscious body out of the tank, the cruel scars that had adorned her face were gone and her long hair clung to her figure in a way that outlined her beauty. He was taken aback by what he had seen. Then he realized he was carrying was the female had seen in one of his visions, in which she appeared with his Prince. He remembered seeing that last particular vision around four years ago, when the Chikyuu-jins first arrived. It featured a woman, in her mid-twenties, with long blue hair, leading a Saiya-jin army while holding a young boy in her arms. And now, he was certain that before him was the same person, only much younger. But he wasn’t certain that his visions were for good or ill, so he left it alone. Perhaps it would be best for all of them if the girl was left to fate.

After Bardock had gone, Kakarotto and Seripa entered the room, but when they entered they saw she was not in her bed.

“At least we know she is awake,” Seripa said.

Bulma heard the comment and quickly rushed outside. The Saiya-jins watched with raised eyebrows and a little amusement as the naked, blue-haired sixteen-year-old, ran from the restroom to her bed and wrapped herself in sheets. Despite her situation, Bulma still held a bit of modesty about her.

“Next time, please knock!” Bulma shouted, letting herself be overcome with anger and embarrassment and forgetting for a moment that she was a slave.

“Um…sorry,” Kakarotto said with a blush on his face. Bulma looked at him in open-mouthed surprise. He actually apologized! She couldn’t believe it! No one had ever apologized to her once since she arrived on Vegeta-sei!

“Oh, that’s okay. I guess you thought I was still out cold, huh?” Bulma said a little more calmly.

Seripa scowled and before Kakarotto could speak again she jumped in. “Bulma, I have your things. Dress. I have something I wish to ask you.”

Bulma nodded and jumped a little as Seripa handed her things to her rather abruptly. She moved behind Seripa to change, but she had no need to do so for Kakarotto had already turned and closed his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Seripa?” Bulma looked concerned. Seripa hadn’t acted this way to her in over three years.

Seripa growled, “Why didn’t you fight back when you knew Chili was going to kill you?”

“I couldn’t. I tried, but something forced me still.”

Seripa seemed calmed by Bulma’s answer. “Did you feel anything on you when you started fighting him?”

“Hmm, now that you mention it…yeah, I did. Odd, I don’t remember him putting anything on me.”

“Chili used his ultimate weapon: his Ki chains. In most circumstances, he is a useless fighter but he does know how to use Ki in order to hold people in submission. I’m surprised he used it on you. Normally, he is not allowed to use it, as he is also a slave,” Seripa said emotionlessly.

“Um, whoever you are, I’m fully dressed now. You can turn around,” Bulma half-yelled at Kakarotto. When he turned, he faced Seripa and nodded. She understood.

“Bulma, I have to return to my duties, but Kakarotto has been instructed to escort you back to your chambers,” Seripa said with a little smile. Bulma nodded back and gave her a full smile in silent gratitude. Seripa turned and left the room, passing by a stilled and serious-looking Kakarotto.

Kakarotto and Bulma studied each other for an undisturbed moment, sharing a comfortable but nervous silence, neither without a clue as to what the next moment would bring. Kakarotto had many questions to ask, but he was momentarily captivated by the slave’s beauty. She was the second or third Chikyuu-jin he had met since coming to Vegeta-sei and by far the most beautiful. The slave robe looked somehow out of place on her. Bulma looked at Kakarotto, unsure of what his intentions were, though she sensed this Saiya-jin meant her no harm. He was younger and shorter then her, but he seemed strong and mature in an odd naïve way. Bulma decided she would make the first move. She walked up to him and offered her hand. He readily took it and they cordially shook hands, which surprised her even more. She didn’t know any Saiya-jins knew had to shake hands.

“I’m Bulma Briefs, from Chikyuu.”

“Kakarotto, but please, call me Goku. I’m from Chikyuu, too…well, sort of.”

Now she understood why he, among all of the other Saiyan-jins, knew the Chikyuu custom of shaking hands, and the thought of that simple and familiar action made her happier than she had been in a long time. “REALLY?”

“Yeah, from what I’ve been told, I was sent there a long time ago, even though I was actually born here. And four years ago, when the Saiya-jins arrived on Chikyuu, I was taken back as well.”

“Oh!”

“But Chikyuu was my home and I loved it there! I see myself as more from there than I do here.”

Bulma smiled. “Well, then I guess that makes two of us...I mean, about our love for Chikyuu.”

During their exchange, Kakarotto’s face had turned soft and sweet but then it returned to an expression of deep seriousness and he fell silent. Bulma just looked at him, unsure of what to say or do. Certainly, her day had been odd, very different than any other day she had experienced since she arrived on Vegeta-sei. Suddenly, she remembered what Seripa had mentioned to her. “You said earlier that you wanted to ask me something?”

“Yeah, but about two things…”

“What’s the first?” Bulma asked, biting her lip and hoping it had nothing to do with her “whispers.”

“Seripa told me that you had unusual mental powers and that’s why the Prince ordered your beating to be stopped. Is that true?”

Bulma’s eye twitched, her hopes dashed. Now someone else knew about her secret. She felt an odd emotion pass through her. It felt like rage, confusion, and gratefulness rolled into one, and this feeling was directed to the Prince. He saved me? He stopped my beatings? THAT ASSHOLE! First he destroys my home then he saves me? What a hypocritical bastard! Her jumbled thoughts were cut off by the little Saiya-jin standing in front of her.

“Bulma?”

“Oh, right. Um…I started hearing the voices, which sounded a lot more like echoed whispers, when the Saiya-jins invaded Chikyuu. Then I kept hearing in my head, off and on, and I couldn’t control them. From what I could tell, they seemed to be masculine and sounded rather pissed off most of the time.”

“So how did you know that Radditz wasn’t the one who betrayed the Prince?”

“I heard the voice saying something about suspecting Radditz, but I also got a strong feeling that it wasn’t Radditz…wait a minute, where have a heard that name before?”

“Who?”

“Radditz.”< br>
“My brother?”

“He’s your brother?” She frowned and concentrated. “Oh, I know! I heard Nappa mention his name when we landed.”

“Huh?”

“Was that all?” Bulma hoped that would put an end to the questioning.

“No, I guess I have enough information about your abilities. Do you know if any other Chikyuu-jin has mental abilities like yours?”

“You said you lived on Chikyuu. Don’t you know?”

For a moment, Kakarotto looked embarrassed. “Well, I didn’t know many people there. Just my grandfather…and we lived way out in the country by ourselves.”

“No, Chikyuu-jins usually don’t have mind powers, though some claim to be able to read minds and such, but it’s usually a bunch of bull.”

“Okay. Second thing: do you know Prince Vegeta?”

Disgust ran across Bulma’s face. She never seen the Prince in person, but she imagined him to be a tall, hairy, ugly fighting freak; full of muscle, cruelty and not much else. Had she ever met the man, she would be dead right now, because she would have attacked him as soon as she’d seen him, even if he was…is… the strongest fighter on this planet. Regardless of her certain doom, Bulma would have still attacked him.

“No way in hell did I ever meet that prick of a Prince!” The anger in Bulma’s face and voice was quite obvious.

Kakarotto was completely dumbfounded by her reaction to his question, scratching his head in bewilderment. No one ever talked about the Prince like that; no one was ever allowed to. He didn’t know what to do. She obviously never met the Prince yet she obviously hated him. In a way, Kakarotto understood. Initially, he also hated Prince Vegeta for destroying Chikyuu, but after spending a year with Prince Vegeta as he served Freeza, his hate turned into an understanding and his understanding became friendship. Now, Kakarotto believed that the Prince wasn’t all that bad, and once he turned around, even Vegeta’s soul could be saved.

“Listen, Bulma, the Prince isn’t all that bad,” he said. “I spent time with him. He loves a Chikyuu-jin, I don’t know who. At first, I thought it might be you, but I guess not. He didn’t really want to destroy Chikyuu, but he had to.”

“I don’t care! He destroyed everything I cared about, that ass! And that Chikyuu-jin, whoever she is, is a traitor! He must have pulled the wool over your eyes you too, ‘cause…’cause…” Then her voice died on her as her shock grew. Prince Vegeta loved a Chikyuu-jin? Was it even possible for the man to love? What about her revenge? Could she still kill him? Probably…

“You must be hungry,” Kakarotto offered. “Let’s go get you some food and I’ll take you back to your chambers.”

“Sure.” Bulma felt defeated and confused. Where would she go now? What would be her main goal once she escaped? What was her purpose? As Kakarotto led her out of the medical bay, she put up her hood, suddenly feeling more tired than before. She stayed silent for the rest of the day.

******(2 years later )******

Kakarotto walked around the Royal Science and Technology Division with pride, loving his duties as the protecting officer there. He was much taller now and he enjoyed the new respect he got because of it. Before, he always had to look up, but now he even had to look down at Bulma whenever he faced her. His increased height made him feel as though he could protect her better. Whenever he went to the 3rd-class brackets to meet with the Rebellion leaders, he would always first check on Bulma. Every so often, he would slip her food if she looked hungry or would warn off any lustful males he caught looking at her that they would have to answer to him if they ever tried to touch her. Royal decree or no, to some, Bulma was too alluring to resist.

Kakarotto loved her and protected her as though she was his older sister; he couldn‘t see her any other way. Sometimes, the two of them would talk, but never that much, and when he was with her he would wonder if that beaten, mixed look that was in her eyes had always been there. When he asked Seripa about it, she told him that look hadn’t always been there, that Bulma wasn’t broken, just very lost, although Kakarotto could see very clearly that Bulma was more than just lost, she was lonely. Once, she had told him her whispers had almost completely disappeared over the past two years and only rarely would she hear them at all. He wanted to be there for her when she needed it, but he could only see her once every couple months. Now, he had to deal with his Prince.

Lately, the Prince kept calling on Kakarotto to accompany him while on missions for Freeza. Before, unless the mission was a long one, the Prince would go alone, but nowadays, he summoned Kakarotto nearly every time. Deep inside, he hated watching the Prince as he purged the lifeforms from different planets. Kakarotto would never assist in the purging; he just watched the Prince’s back to keep him safe and unharmed. The younger Saiya-jin didn’t mind though, for he was always allowed to return to this post, in which he loved to protect and serve.

After the tenth time he accompanied Prince Vegeta, he noticed the Prince had the same look in his eyes as Bulma’s. That look told him that Prince Vegeta was also lonely. However, whenever the Prince purged, his dark eyes took on a horrific look of madness that seemed to grow, that was never there before. Kakarotto didn’t know what was wrong with the Prince. But he suspected it might have something to do with the Prince’s connection to his beloved, a connection which seemed coldly absent in the Prince as of late. As lonely as he appeared to Kakarotto, Prince Vegeta still hated his betrothed, Yasai, and couldn’t even stand to be in the same room with her. Truly, the Prince seemed alone in the middle of a crowd.

Kakarotto was walking towards the lower levels of the building to which he was assigned. Those levels were off limits to all but a select few, which included him. They were filled with large unused hangars that had been built years ago. When Freeza came and upgraded the technology on Vegeta-sei, the King ordered the new facilities to be built on top of these levels. The old hangars and labs now went unused and uncared for. The sole elevator still able to access these older levels needed a code to activate it. Now, in the lower levels, Prince Vegeta waited for him. Both Kakarotto and the Prince knew within the next two years, perhaps as early as three, the Rebellion could make itself known and begin its fight for freedom, but they were still missing the necessary technology to assure victory. The good news was that Freeza had been delayed in realizing his plans. That delay had been a godsend, both for slowing the Cold Empire down and keeping the white lizard away from Vegeta-sei. It also gave the Prince more time to return home so that he could perform his duties as Prince and act as the leader of the Rebellion. Kakarotto stepped inside a half-lit abandoned lab in the lower levels. The Prince, now older, was keeping himself in half-shadow. Kakarotto could tell that Prince Vegeta was wearing the “costume,” a simple, sleeveless blue training suit covered by a hooded cape that completely hid his face that he would wear whenever he did business for the Rebellion. Kakarotto almost chuckled, seeing that the Prince still insisted on wearing his white gloves and boots.

“What took you so long?” the Prince asked, his voice just a below annoyance and anger.

Kakarotto knew now how dangerous the situation they all were in, the Rebellion was too big now to keep secret for much longer. “I had to cover my tracks, to make sure I wasn’t followed.”

“Fine. So, did you find anything useful?”

“Sorry, no. There’s no one here who can invent what you ask.”

“This is getting ridiculous! Is the whole division a bunch of weak idiots? This will get the Rebellion nowhere!”

“We still need to meet with Bardock and the others to plan our next move.”

“I know that!”

“You have to make sure no one sees you.”

“Useless piece of shit, low-class…do not insult me! I’m not stupid like you!”

“At what time should I tell the others to meet with you?”

“After 2200 hours.”

“Okay, I’ll let my father know.”

“I may arrive early tonight to discuss something with Bardock. Make sure he is ready by 2000 hours.”

“Okay.”

“That’s all. Now, get the fuck out of my sight!”

“Geee…yes, yes on my way out!” With that, Kakarotto left. As he distanced himself from the Prince, he could tell that Vegeta was losing himself to something worse than loneliness.

The Prince stood against the wall in the old lab, feeling dejected. His plans were always changing, while his mind kept playing tricks on him. The plans for the upcoming Rebellion and the rebuilding of his Empire were coming along great, except for the technologies they desperately needed. Once he destroyed Freeza, he would rule all the galaxies and he would be the strongest. Though politics tired him, he loved being in control; although lately he wasn’t, especially with himself. He had set up a mental and emotional barrier, to cut off any contact from his damned bonded. Unfortunately, the barrier had a serious side effect: the loss of his sanity. As the months passed, he felt as though he was going more insane, and the increasing number of his mad rants alone would have proved it. Despite his desire to make it so, the barrier did nothing to destroy the bond; it only made him extremely lonely. Vegeta knew that if he wasn’t strong enough to destroy a simple bond between himself and the alien female, then he wasn’t strong enough to kill Freeza.
Tonight would be the first meeting that he would have to attend incognito. On the way, he would have to go through the old palace gardens and slip in the window of the slave chambers. The fact he had to sneak around bothered him greatly, but because he had to go into the slave chambers made it worse. In there, he would be able to finally see the bitch he was bonded to and wouldn’t be able to kill her. Perhaps he would encounter her as she slept and break her neck before she woke. But if he did kill her, would he really be free, or would her death cause this madness to overtake him completely? He shook his head. He needed to train, to get his mind back on track, but even an extreme training session would do little to expel this madness, waiting like an unwelcome guest at the doorstep of his mind.

**********

The night was beautiful again, like almost every night on Vegeta-sei before it, seamless in design. The air was cool, but not cold, just right for training. Tonight, however, Bulma was, to her amazement, bored with training. She had finished learning all the steps in the book and had practiced them steadily for some time. Now, all she did was practice the same thing over and over again. Her situation over the past two years had evolved from merely odd to overly weird. Her inventions she created were often big, complex things she had to encapsulate, Chili still beat her, but never as badly as he had before, and her training was becoming tedious. On top of all that, Seripa was growing impatient with her, and those bothersome whispers had become almost non-existent. At least she had “Goku” around to protect her, although as the days passed, she hardly ran into him. Nor would she think of him as a friend…not just yet.

Even when she went around with her slave hood up and covering her long, blue hair, Bulma felt as if she was constantly being watched.

And then there was the confusing matter of the Prince. Bulma didn’t know what to think of him anymore. She still hated him but she didn’t know if she was going to kill him like she had planned. Lately, Bulma felt lonelier than before, devoid of anyone that really cared for her. As attentive as he was, Goku only seemed to protect her out of a sense of duty, which left Bulma feeling hollow inside. She knew she was alone. She also knew she was still too weak to escape, but had never forgotten her promise to Chi-chi. She prayed that Chi-chi was still alive as well. What saddened Bulma the most was she had no idea what her future would bring. It seemed she would spend the rest of her life here, under he heel of that disgusting blob that she was forced to call “Master.”

A growing rage and frustration made Bulma angrily punch the air with both fists and she started to kick furiously, low then high. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted…what did she want? Fueled by her anger, Bulma did a spin kick then did another combo. She was sweating and she smelled and she didn’t know what to think of it. Lost in her rage, she continued changing from punches to kicks until her fury was spent and she became deathly calm inside. She felt her hairs stand up from the back of her neck, but that didn’t slow her down. She continued to train with determination, blocking out everything around her. Then her calmness allowed her to hear something she had missed so much: the whispers were back and they were so clear and so very near.

***********

Vegeta also wanted to scream. Soon he would finally see what the gods had envisioned as his other half. No doubt she would be as hideous as sin. His luck was damned that way and his cursed soul could only be matched by a bitch just as dark and ugly, though as the Prince of the Saiya-jins he deserved a Goddess. Now, all he needed to do was find the path that would lead him to the damned slave chambers. And as much as he hated to admit it, he was also nervous. In the past weeks he had been coming to an acceptance regarding his situation with Yasai, unfaithful whore that she was. Sooner or later, he would finally sleep with her, so that he could lose himself completely, and becoming forever damned. If he could kill Freeza before he was forced to marry Yasai, then he would have the freedom to choose someone else. But he would have to channel whatever kind of luck he still had into building his Rebellion and becoming the Legendary.

Vegeta frowned, his pace slowing as his uncertainty about his surroundings grew. He had purposely arrived here early to talk with Bardock before meeting with the rest of the Rebellion members, but if he didn’t find his way around soon he would be late or even miss the gathering. Certainly, Vegeta had been called upon by Freeza for quite a few spur-of-the-moment missions that his missing one or two of the Rebellion meetings was not all that unusual, but still, he hated to miss any of them. In his absences, he had come to rely on Bardock for his proven leadership skills and he planned to raise Bardock’s rank to second-class when he became King and his world was no longer overshadowed by Freeza’s evil influence.

Cursing under his breath, he stopped and looked around. He thought he remembered everything about this garden; this neglected, ugly piece of land he used to pass through without giving it a second glance. But now it wasn’t so ugly anymore. Now, it looked like a proper palace garden, green, vibrant, and alive. The dangerous, brown, and weed-choked garden he could picture like the back of his hand, but this garden was unfamiliar to him and it was making him unsure of his way around it.

The air was cool, not cold, and Vegeta wished he could train on a night like this. He sighed. Perhaps he should just fly instead of walk, but to fly would increase the risk of someone seeing him. As he let the last bit of air escape through his sigh he heard something that sounded like someone was training nearby on this cool night. He then decided to follow the sounds, get directions from whoever was training then kill him or her, leaving no witness. However, with each step, Vegeta’s resolve was melting and he could sense his barrier crashing down as he heard the voice become more distinct. It was a female voice…strangely familiar, although he couldn’t place it. It sounded clearer, closer, and somehow sad…much more so than before. The hairs on his arms stood up, as he felt tingles spring up all over his body.

Without thinking, he let the barrier down and almost immediately the bond took over his senses. He walked towards his goal as if possessed; the world around him seemed fuzzy and tilted. Vegeta walked until he emerged into a small clearing. The persistent whispers suddenly stopped and alien emotion came over him. In that place, the rest of the world melted away, and he felt at peace, calmer than he had been for years. There, in front of him was a girl about his age, punching and kicking the air, training like her very life depended upon it, although her moves were solid but rough. She wore a patched up old training suit that clung to every curve, while the strands of long, blue hair tied in the back followed her graceful moves like a silk ribbon. Even from where he stood motionless, he could see that the look in her unbelievably blue eyes was a very determined one. She didn’t notice him yet, as she was wrapped up in her actions. He was glad for that, because it gave him more time to study her. She was beautiful. She was perfect…was she his BONDED?