Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Price You Pay ❯ Chapter Twenty-Two ( Chapter 22 )

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The Price You Pay: Chapter Twenty-Two

Bulma could feel an aching in her gut and it worried her. She'd only been in her room for an hour but she could already feel something was wrong. Very wrong.

Anxious to sooth whatever was ailing her mate, Bulma sought out Vegeta's ki signature. The dreams she'd been having did little for her own mental stability. They were making her paranoid.

Vegeta?

Bulma sent out a mental probe as she got out of bed. Vegeta's door was slightly ajar, much as it had been the fateful night his energy had first converged with her body. Pushing the door open, a gentle light greeted her. Quietly, she made her way into his bed chamber and padded along the soft carpet to his bed. The bedclothes were still disheveled. Bulma thought she wouldn't mind if she never saw a made bed again if their activities were the cause of its disarray. She smiled despite herself.

Bulma's attentions were drawn to the balcony and the drapes that gently flowed in the breeze. The glow of the moon pooled around her feet as she approached the open window. Warmed from the summer heat, the smell of cinnamon breeze filled Bulma's lungs. As she approached the open door, she was taken aback by a tingling all over her body. The sensation which had begun in her fingers and toes intensified the closer she came to the balcony. A sudden fear struck her.

"Vegeta!" The Saiya-jin no Ouji, one of the strongest fighters in the universe, lay covered in a thin sheen of sweat on the cold concrete surface of the balcony, completely crumpled. The entirety of his body was consumed in a burning blue flame—all except the mark on his upper back which was a deep black.

Struck by the most terrifying of thoughts, Bulma reached for her mate through the inferno. She screamed.

 

~~~~~~~<(((((|||)))))>~~~~~~~

 

The sky that greeted Bulma upon her waking could only be described in one word: breathtaking. And despite the shock it had caused her at seeing a sky of such a strange hue, for some reason she felt surprisingly at home.

Red, the sky is... red?

Bulma sighed mentally as she blankly stared at the rust colored sky which, by all rights, ought to be foreign to her. Glancing around at her new surroundings, Bulma's eyes slowly began to focus on the strange, raw landscape. The clearing she found herself in was encompassed by thick vegetation and a forest with trees that looked ancient and all-knowing. Mountains could be seen off in the distance and the slow change of the orange-red sky to a deep purple indicated the steady change of day to night.

Where is this place? When is this place?

Bulma's heart began to race as she contemplated her whereabouts, or rather, her inability to distinguish her whereabouts. Bulma racked her brain.

I was on the balcony. There was a burning glow coming from Vegeta...

And then nothing. That was all she was left with, absolutely nothing. Try as she might, her genius simply wasn't enough to help her determine what had happened out on the balcony and what had led her here—to a completely alien world. The smell of the forest filled her nostrils as her senses returned. It wasn't like any other smell she had ever encountered. This was the smell of nature, this was a smell that could never be forgotten. It was rich and in its own sad and glorious way, haunting, like the smell of a lover's cologne lingering on a pillow.

The sore throat Bulma had been ignoring during her observations announced itself as the sound of rushing water filled her ears. A stream, which up until now Bulma had failed to notice, seemed to run along the center of the small clearing.

Wow, icy cold, thought Bulma as she dipped her bare foot into the clear, welcoming water. Despite its shallow depth, the current was strong and Bulma was almost positive that the water fueling this lonely little stream came from a waterfall.

 

Always the adventurer, or at least when necessity called for it, Bulma headed upstream in search of the source. Running water was a valuable commodity for all living creatures and she hoped to encounter someone, anyone, if she made it to the stream's source.

Bulma let her thoughts wander as she followed the stream up a small embankment. It worried her that she wasn't worried. She knew that recent events with Vegeta and her sudden arrival here should leave her frantic, but truth be told, she had never felt more comfortable or relaxed. Something was amiss, and that, more than the fact that she was in a strange place, worried her.

Where's Vegeta? Why am I here?

Thoughts of the last moments in her known reality plagued her as concern for her mate surfaced.

Why was his mark black?

She couldn't put it all together. There were many pieces to this puzzle, but as she'd never been unable to solve a problem in her life, she didn't let it bother her.

The stream she'd been following progressively deepened and widened into a full-flowing river with a formidable current. The embankment which was first just gently sloping became steeper as Bulma climbed up through the underbrush and eventually came to a plateau. At first there was too much brush for Bulma to make anything out clearly, but she continued, following the violent sound of crashing water. A gradual change from soft turf to hard pebbles and stone indicated that she was coming closer, but also reminded her that she was still in her PJ's and wasn't wearing any shoes.

As if her sudden awareness of undress triggered a chemical reaction, Bulma began to feel cold. As she neared the body of water, the warm, comfortable breeze she'd been enjoying dissipated. The closer she came, the more she felt consumed by a sense of calm, absolute stillness, and a chill that seeped into her bones. Pushing the last branches aside, Bulma found herself at the edge of a small pool of icy-cold water. It shimmered orange and yellow in the fading daylight.

Her thirst returning to her, Bulma leaned over and examined the translucent, invitingly cold water. It didn't appear to have anything wrong with it.

But looks can be deceiving.

After contemplating the possible risks to her heath a few moments longer, Bulma finally decided to dip her hand in for a drink. The water was cool in her palm and even cooler and she sipped it and let it sooth her parched throat.

The snap of a twig alerted Bulma of possible danger, and in an instant she raised her head to search for the source of the sound.

"Why, hello there, little one," came a coarse, almost amused voice from the other side of the pool. Bulma's eyes widened as she took in the figure. Gold-tipped boots, a bronzed, muscular torso, body armor, and a twitching, brown tail. Bulma attempted to stifle a gasp as one utterly confused and terrified thought crossed her mind.

Saiya-jins...?