Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Legend Of the Bond ❯ Star of hope... ( Chapter 8 )

Tomorrow had brought more training and idle time sitting on the grass, talking about things in general; their conversations never going any deeper. Their routine became set: every night they would train for hours and afterwards, they would sit on the grass, mostly in silence, gazing up at the stars above Vegeta-sei. In four months’ time, Bulma was slowly showing definite improvement from Vegeta’s instructions.

During a few nights of shared stargazing, Bulma had inched closer and closer, until the barrier of uncertainty and newness faded away and she could rest her head against his shoulder. They would stay in that position for a while each night until it became time for Vegeta to get up and leave. Sometimes, instead of stargazing, they would talk, but as always, their conversations stayed short and genial. In all of this time, Vegeta had not revealed his name to her and kept on his cape and hood.

In this new openness between them, neither Vegeta nor Bulma felt the loneliness or madness that had tormented them before. Now, they both felt as though they had been shown a way, no longer lost or beaten anymore. In four months, Vegeta had come to accept his bond and to release the need to erect the mental barrier to block it out. Each night shared in Bulma’s company made his resolve to kill her dissolve a little bit more and each day, the blackness that once threatened to consume them, faded away as well.

And though neither would admit it openly, each felt a sense of pleasure in just being in the other‘s presence.

This particular evening, a sweating Bulma stood frozen in a fighting stance, while Vegeta was standing off to the side, watching and criticizing her every move.

“Your punch is still too slow. I said you must use your feet and step into your punches to make them faster!”

“I’m trying! I can’t seem to move faster.”

“Weak fool. How many times have I told you, unless you put some speed into your pathetic punches, you won’t even affect a fly?”

“I’m not Saiya-jin, remember?!”

The tension between them that night was heavy and out of place. Vegeta was all too aware of that the tension was coming off of both of them. The unspoken desire they held for each other was obvious, but neither would make any move, nor admit to their secret longing.

During the day, especially when he was alone with his thoughts, Vegeta would often think of her, of being with her…but not as a slave. He didn’t want her as a slave; he wanted her free.

Bulma’s days were also filled with thoughts of him, wanting to be with him in ways that made her body flush with embarrassing heat.

“Now, do it again! Faster this time…don’t make me regret these past four months!”

“I won’t waste your time!” Bulma shouted back as she stepped into her attack, throwing another punch faster than before. But it was still nowhere near what Vegeta wanted from her training session tonight.

“That’s enough! Tonight was a waste of my time!” With that, a frustrated Vegeta turned to leave but Bulma ran up to him and touched his forearm gently.

“Please, don’t go…” The blue eyes that looked at him weren’t filled with pleading, but acceptance. They told him that she knew that if he really wanted to go, no matter what she might say, it wouldn’t make any difference. His heart gave way to that look in her eyes. He relaxed his stiffened shoulders then sighed. Bulma understood him, like no one else did.

“I don’t take orders from anyone.”

“I know,” Bulma said with a soft smile. “I’m asking, not demanding.”

Vegeta sat down on the grass where he always did after her training was finished. But it was still early. They hadn’t been training for more then an hour. He stared straight ahead, deep in thought, feeling somewhat exhausted. Bulma smiled and kept silent, content that he decided to stay at her request. She sat down next to him and watched the wind blow through the trees and bushes. After a long moment of stillness, Bulma broke the silence, though she didn’t know why.

“Sometimes, at night, I believe I’m back on Chikyuu. Our nights seem so similar.”

“Most planets are like this at night.”

“Well, I have only been on two…this one and Chikyuu.”

After a moment when he said nothing more, Bulma spoke again. “How many planets have you been on?”

“217.”

Bulma then remembered what happened to her planet and wondered if some of the couple hundred or so he had visited had come to the same fate. She had also learned that instead of destroying a planet outright, the Saiya-jins would purge it of its inhabitants; but knowing that didn’t explain to her why her planet had been destroyed while others were just purged.

“Did you destroy them?”

“Some.”

“Why?”

“What is with all these unnecessary questions tonight?”

Bulma just shrugged. She didn’t know where these questions were coming from either. Vegeta sighed; just for tonight, he would play along with her.

“It was necessary to destroy them, though some just happened to get caught up in my destructive powers when I got carried away.”

Bulma blinked at the off-hand way he said that. After all of this time on Vegeta-sei, dealing with Saiya-jins, she still wasn’t used to their behavior. Her new “friend” just admitted to her that he had killed millions, just like her planet, but oddly, that didn’t seem to count out here, in her garden. Somehow, when she accepted him, she accepted all of him. Even so, she still didn’t know his name…

“My home was destroyed, you probably heard about it…”

Then, for some reason, the hateful name of “Prince Vegeta” popped into her mind, the man who caused all of this to her. She could feel the man next to her tense and she let out a soft growl before she expressed her emotions. “I will never forget name of the cold-hearted bastard who destroyed it, too! I’ve never seen his face, but when I do meet that fucking Prince Vegeta, I will attack him and try to get revenge for my home! I don’t even care if I’m killed for it!”

Vegeta couldn’t help but feel even more uncomfortable than before. Here, sitting next to him was his bonded, his other half, declaring her fervent hatred for him, totally unaware that it was him she was talking about. True, she had accepted him as her trainer, but not as who he really was: Prince Vegeta. The thought of her rejection made his heart grow heavy, but at the same time he grew angered.

Without knowing it, she had insulted him and was planning on using the training he had given her to try to kill him. He was glad he never told her his name. But would she accept him truly when she finally knew who he really was? In a sense, he was living a lie, here with her, and it caused him to grow even angrier.

“I doubt you would even touch him. You’re a pathetic weakling and wouldn’t last a single minute against him,” he said sharply.

“I know, but…” Bulma immediately felt the angry emotions coming from him, though she still didn’t understand why and it began to upset her.

“Are you insane? That’s suicidal!” he barked at her, her obvious distress at his anger agitating him further. “You would be killed instantly!”

They were now facing each other, sitting still on the grass, the wind whipping by them every so often. “Like you would care! You probably have a home and family somewhere, and freedom, while I have nothing! I’m a slave with no future, so how can you say that like I have something to live for?” Her answer made him more upset.

Vegeta’s face remained emotionless, but felt his heart twitch again. She was wrong about him; he had nothing as well, except his pride. He was slave to Freeza, like she was a slave to Vegeta-sei. He surprised both of them when his hand suddenly cupped her face, touching her cheek gently. The warmth of his touch was like electricity passing though both of them, making them want more.

Remembering her status and what she had just said, Bulma turned her head from his touch and faced away to stare at the ground. Vegeta then looked away as well, but he did not leave nor did he feel rejected. He knew of her true emotions; he felt them through the Bond.

“You’re improving slightly in your technique,” he said just above a whisper. “I will continue your training so that when you do meet the prince, you might last more than a second or two.”

“I don’t plan on throwing away my life, you know. Truthfully, I hope to never meet the man. I only want to escape here, to get away from Vegeta-sei, and live my life.”

“I doubt you have the capabilities to escape or even survive outside of Vegeta-sei.”

He heard Bulma chuckle softly before saying, “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“How could I be wrong?”

“I’ll show you.” With that, Bulma pulled her capsule out of her pocket, clicked the button then threw it to the ground in front of him. Vegeta watched with mild surprise as the little cloud of smoke disappeared and the metal box he had forgotten to ask about appeared in front of him. “In all this time you took to train me, you didn’t realize how much of a genius I really am.” Bulma smirked.

“Am I supposed to be impressed with a metal box that came out of nowhere?”

“It didn’t come out of nowhere. I encapsulated it and it’s not just some metal box!” Bulma said as she grabbed for the box and pulled it towards her. One-by-one, she pulled out her things. Out came the old book, then the clothes she had worn when she was taken form Chikyuu. Next came her inventions; the purpose of each she explained to her “friend” as she pulled them out of the box. “As you can see, my inventions have helped me to survive here in more ways than one!”

Vegeta was amazed by what she was showing him. His bonded had the kind of abilities that he needed for his rebellion! He couldn’t believe his luck, although it infuriated him somewhat that what he needed was under his nose all this time! At least he knew that he could release her from her slavery. All he needed now was the right opportunity. Her words awoke him from his train of thought.

“…and I plan to use this invention to escape, once it’s done.” She held up a small device that looked like something one would wear on the wrist.

“What does it do?”

“It’s a cloaking device.”

“How did you get the materials for that?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Well, I didn’t steal them, if that’s what you mean. One of my jobs is cleaning out the discarded or bad parts from the Engineering Department, where 3rd-class rejuvenation tanks are maintained. I get them from there. I also created my tools from the stuff they wanted me to dispose of.”

“You do realize that it will be impossible for you to escape. You will be killed once they find you.”

Bulma’s triumphant look melted into melancholy. She knew as well her hopes were slim. “I do know that, but I have nothing else to live for but that chance. I’ll be dead no matter what. Chili will kill me one day, I know it.”

“He cannot. He would be going against the prince’s decree.”

“That doesn’t matter to him. He hates me. The post to which I was assigned was made to set up slaves for failure. Those parts that I am supposed to dispose of – if I didn’t know what they were or handled them wrong – would have killed me already. And, even though I survived tending the garden, I still have to feed those dangerous pets everyday.”

Vegeta looked at her, disbelieving. “You have to feed the barrack’s pets, too?”

“Yep.”

“And they haven’t eaten you yet?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Vegeta felt ridiculous, he had asked a dumb question and criticized himself for his own stupidity. He still couldn’t believe it. Bulma, his bonded, was sent to a slave post intended to punish disobedient slaves when she first arrived. But instead of being killed within days, she managed to survive. His respect for her grew, but he could say nothing. The air around them became still again.

They sat in silence, both thinking about what had just been revealed. In time, they laid down to gaze at the stars. After a couple comfortable moments, Vegeta spotted the star of Chikyuu and pointed to it.

“That bright spot is Chikyuu. Because of the time and distance it takes for light to travel through space, you can still see it, even though it was destroyed. While you are on Vegeta-sei, you can look up into the night sky and be able to feel that part of Chikyuu within you. If you leave, then you leave that behind as well.”

Bulma turned her head to the side to look at him and her heart fluttered. She swallowed hard, feeling tears come to her eyes, but she fought them back. She didn’t want to cry in front of her “friend.” “Then I have some hope.”

Vegeta had no desire to see her escape; he wanted her to stay on Vegeta-sei, no matter what. He had given her something to hold on to, so that he could have time to find a way to have her. He decided in that brief moment that he would not kill her…he would possess her. In his heart, the night had never felt so bright before.

**********

Kakarotto sat in the mess hall of the Royal Science and Technology Division, eating to his heart’s content. Another guard had taken up the watch, allowing the hungry Saiya-jin to leave for his lunch break. Sixteen emptied bowls were stacked on top of each other in front of him and Kakarotto was as happy as he could be, filling his stomach with great food.

He had learned that, as of late, Freeza was still occupied with some unknown force and had not needed to call on any Saiya-jins. Kakarotto silently blessed Kami-sama for whatever distractions the deity had sent in the Ice-jin’s direction, for it meant that many sinless individuals would get to live longer on their planets.

He was also happy for Prince Vegeta. Lately, the prince seemed different, almost like he was content. Kakarotto could also sense the prince’s beloved again and had come to the conclusion that Prince Vegeta must have patched things up with her. His friend Bulma seemed happier as well. Since that one meeting five months ago when the prince was late, both seemed happier. Though the prince would never show it, Kakarotto could feel that he was pleased about something.

As Kakarotto scraped up the last of his food, he couldn’t help but overhear another Saiya-jin (one of the few Saiya-jins that actually worked as a scientist) mention that cook responsible for the food preparation was a Chikyuu-jin. Immediately, Kakarotto grew curious. A Chikyuu-jin that could cook this well deserved praise! As a guard, he wasn’t allowed to mingle with the slaves at his post, but he couldn’t help himself. As unnoticeably as he could, he got up and snuck around the corner and opened another door, which led into the kitchen. He had done so many times to steal extra food, but never before had he bothered to check out the people doing the cooking.

He snuck into the main cooking area, where the line chef and the other cooks were busily working. When he slid past one of the prep tables, he turned around in surprise to see that one of the cooks was a girl. She looked about his own age had her long raven hair tied behind her in a bun. She looked back at him with a curious expression of her own on her pretty face. She wore a normal slave robe and suddenly Kakarotto felt sorry for this slave girl who could cook so well. No one else was in the area, relaxed his stance and bowed slightly to her. Still somewhat nervous, he scratched behind his head and gave her a goofy smile.

“I just wanted to tell you that I think your food is really good!”

“You really like my food?” she asked, blushing a little.

“Yeah, it’s really delicious! I wish I could take you home so I can always eat your food!”

Flattered by his praise, she quickly piled more on a plate and slid it towards him. “So, what’s your name?” she asked, a bashful flush on her face.

“Oh, wow! Um…I’m Kakarotto, but I have a Chikyuu-jin name. It’s Goku. You can call me that.”

“Why would you have a Chikyuu-jin name?” she said, her bashful gaze turning into one of puzzlement.

“’Cause I kind of came from there, too…what’s your name?”

“Chi-Chi. Um…Goku, do you know what marriage is?”

“‘Marriage’? Is that some kind of food?”

They looked at each other for a moment more before Chi-Chi blushed and giggled aloud. Kakarotto was thrilled when she handed him yet another plate piled high with tasty food. He liked her and really wanted to get to know her better. Perhaps he could even get her to cook up some of this “marriage” stuff she had spoken of…

Boy, oh boy…he couldn’t wait!

**********

Ever since that night, about a month ago, when her “friend" told her about Chikyuu’s star, Bulma had felt another part of her come alive and it seemed to improve her training. She was faster now and more agile. As she practiced her kicks while he was watching her, she could feel his approval, though his face held no emotion.

At least at night, things seemed normal, almost like her slavery was a dream. With her increased strength and stamina, her daytime chores were easily done and it only took her to the afternoon to finish everything. In her spare time, she started to learn everything she could about Saiya-jins and their culture. Bulma went through the second half of her old book with a fine toothcomb, leaving no detail unturned in her mind. She was doing all this to please him, her new friend…but she wanted him as a lover. Bulma’s longing was something that at times kept her up at night. In truth, she wanted him to touch her, to caress her. She wanted him to be with her, feel the same yearning she felt, to have him, just perhaps for one night, to let everything melt away in ecstasy.

Vegeta watched as Bulma did her routine kicks with ease; though she was still slow by Saiya-jin fighting standards, she was much faster than a month ago. As he continued to watch her move, he felt her mind drifting towards something sensual. He also noted her kick was slightly too high for her body.

Her desires crawled into his mind and he acted without thought, wordlessly coming up behind her. He pressed his body against her back and with his hand he caught her leg in mid-swing. She froze when he touched her leg and her heart started beating fast. His touch was making her feel weak. To stop herself from falling, for she couldn’t judge her strength with him touching her so gently, she leaned against him. Slowly, he eased her leg down, lowering its kicking angle slightly.

“Your leg was too high; lower it to here,” he said in a husky voice, close to her ear.

She slowly twisted her head to the side to try to look at him and he moved his head even closer to her. The tension lay thick between them and their breaths became quicker. Both felt the heat rise between their bodies. Bulma wanted him to kiss her and he felt the same. Ever so slowly he ran his hand up from her leg to her waist as her leg lowered from the kick. He hesitated a moment then kept moving his hand towards her chest. They could feel their warm breaths on each others’ faces. At the same time, they closed their eyes, bringing their lips closer together…almost touching, almost tasting…

Without much grace, Bulma suddenly pulled back. Still trembling with a combination of desire, nervousness, and regret, she took a few steps away from him. There was no question that she wanted him, but she couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t right. Vegeta just stared at her, angry that she would cause him arousal yet suddenly deny him. But understandingly, he felt her tangled emotions as well, and he could guess what she was thinking.

“I don’t even know your name,” she said softly, when she found her voice again.

“You don’t need to know my name.”

Her head snapped around when she heard that. “What? Why…you…you midget Saiya-jin! How dare you! I’m nobody’s whore…and I won’t become some anonymous pleasure slave for you to do whatever you like! Are you just trying to get me into bed and then discard me when you’re through with me? I’ve worked way too hard to let my virginity be wasted on someone who is just like Pota, but more devious!

“You do not know of what you speak.” Vegeta held his annoyance in check while she was venting at him.

“Listen, I don’t care if I’m not someone you wish to spend your life with, but I do want to know your name before I give myself to you…or at the very least let me know you don‘t just want sex…”

He smirked. “If I wanted just that, I would have taken it…”

“Forget it then! I didn’t mean it…I just want to know your name…,” she began to say, then took a deep breath to calm herself. “I know I’m just a slave here and we don’t have a chance in hell to have a future together, but let me know your name.”

I’m not a slave! Bulma’s mind was screaming. I’m only a slave because the Saiya-jins forced me into this! I am a slave in title only, dammit! My heart and soul will never be enslaved! She hated her life, to be denied even love. She looked up to Chikyuu’s star and placed a hasty wish upon it, knowing full well that to cast a wish upon a dead star was the same as letting it fall on deaf ears.

“You do not need to know my name and I will not say that again,” Vegeta said, wanting to put an end to this discussion.

“Fine…”

“We will continue your training.”

“Fine…” She looked at him with blue fire returning to her eyes. Why are you here? Are you my friend?

“I am here because I choose to be here,” Vegeta told her. “I am your ally, but know this: your ally is made of pure evil.”

Bulma stood shocked to her core. Whether she was more stunned that he had somehow read into her innermost thoughts or by the cold reply he had just given to her, she couldn’t say at the moment. Everything was becoming even more confusing now; but she knew one thing, despite what he had just told her, she was falling in love with him. Though she never felt love before, this strong feeling flowing through her heart could only be classified as that.

“If I’m your so-called ally, then why did you want to kiss me?”

“I do what I want,” he answered, “and at that moment, I wanted to kiss you.”

“Whatever I am going to do with you?” Bulma shook her head and then smiled. “So, I’m your ally…always?” There it was again…something she felt only when she was in his presence. Could she be feeling his emotions, although she was unsure as to how that could be; but, at that moment, she felt a sense of uncertainty, craving, and contentment radiating from him. Then she heard them. Her whispers – so clear, their voices so familiar – saying “…accept me…”

“Let us continue then, before I die of boredom,” Vegeta said abruptly, turning away form her and walking off to the side.

“’k, so what do you want me to do now?”

“Your combos, of course.”

“Eh?”

“The harder ones.”

Bulma groaned. “Why now? I just learned those!”

“Because you didn’t let me kiss you,” Vegeta smirked. “Now get to them before I really do die of boredom.”

“Yessir, Your High-and-mightiness! Gosh, you boss me around like you were some kind of stuck-up royalty or something!”

Vegeta muttered under his breath as she started her combos, “What little do you know.”

Now and then, as Bulma trained, she kept glancing over at the man training her, watching her, and couldn’t help but think of her whispers. Over the years, their voices had become clearer to her. His voice was so similar to her whispers. And when he had touched her earlier, it almost felt like the whispers had also touched her mind at the same time.

Then she felt goosebumps break out all over her body. Was he the source of her whispers? Bulma roughly pushed the idea away. The whispers had been a companion in her loneliness, driving her mad and helping her to survive. She didn’t want to believe that they were anything else other than that…what else could they be?