Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Prince and Princess Diaries ❯ Dake Ikareru Makeru ( Chapter 23 )

Chapter Twenty Three: Dake Ikareru Makeru (Only to Lose)

Vegeta knew she was intimidated. He could tell by the slight tremble to her small hands and the easy way she startled when he jumped at her on purpose...just to scare the hell out of her. He was putting extreme pressure on her, and because of this, she was not paying as close attention as she should have been, but all the more advantage for him. He had the feeling this was going to be an easy victory...a very easy victory. All he had to do was apply himself, and it would be over quickly.

He feinted to the right and then dove to the left, catching her off guard as his sword clashed with hers. She barely caught it, and her sword hit his at an odd angle. She was sweating, trembling, and she knew she was going to lose. How could you possibly keep a straight countenance with someone like him? He unsettled her as if it was his job. His stance was perfect; the way he moved oozed of professionalism and ease and grace. He knew exactly what he was doing; he had been doing this since he had first learned to walk, if not sooner.

She was as good as dead. No, worse than dead. She was going to be humiliated forever and ever, then embarrassed even after death, for surely she was going to die of mortification. Vegeta was smirking at her, knowing deep down that he was going to win, and no matter what she did, no matter what trick she pulled, he would see through it, anticipate it, and kick her little inexperienced ass. She knew she should just give in, give him an easy, smooth victory, but somewhere deep inside herself told her to try. Try...just give it a shot, see what it was like to fight someone like Vegeta. See if she would ever be able to beat someone of his stature, of his ability, of his experience. And just maybe, someway, she would win. And then she would leave him to wallow in mortification and humiliation. She liked that thought, but first, she needed some room.

She ground her teeth and thrust him backwards with all the strength she could muster, anything to give herself some space to calm down. She needed to get back into her tranquil state, one where she could think and move without any hesitation and know she would not regret her actions. She was not thinking on instinct; she was thinking on desperation. He kept coming at her insistently, attacking her with ruthlessness deserving of a seasoned warrior. But she was not a seasoned warrior; she was just a stupid unsettled princess that was sweating too much and panicking easily. She needed to calm down now.

She did not want to lose. That was the last thing she wanted in the world. She had to try harder.

She drew in a deep breath as he was shoved away with her strength. He gave her a surprised look, for she knew he had not been expecting that much force to come from a woman, let alone her.

She began trying to collect herself. She started to relax her muscles and clear her mind. She picked apart his body, his position, his manner. He was slightly cocky, and that was to her advantage.

Her only advantage.

She felt her face fall. His stance was utter perfection. She could not find one open spot, not one weak area.

She was done. How in the universe could she beat someone who had literally no weaknesses...except maybe arrogance?

This disturbed her on so many different many levels, but she still tried her hardest to clear her scrambled mind of anything and everything. She concentrated on going in on herself, finding her center, the focus of her very being. She concentrated on the calmness she found there, the tranquility and peacefulness.

Bulma felt herself begin to unwind and loosen up, her mind to vacate of any troubles or concerns. Her muscles relaxed, her form straightened, her trembling hands stilled. Her eye became calculating and measuring, and she smirked at her returned confidence as she picked apart every spec of her husband.

It felt good.

Vegeta watched her slash her sword to the side in a strong, poised manner. Her hands were no longer trembling, and the sweat had cooled on her brow.

It looked as if she had finally collected herself.

"So...how old were you when you began to learn swordplay?" Vegeta questioned, still circling her. He was hoping to confuse her brain by doing two things at once, but it did not look like it was working. She had certainly gotten her act together, for he was now having a difficult time finding open areas in her standpoint. He thought that odd for a moment, for he had never had trouble finding an open area on someone before.

Bulma took quick advantage of his noticeable confusion. She charged him and then sidestepped, causing him to pivot on his feet and catch her sword with his before she caught his exposed side. He growled as she smirked, and she pushed him away again.

"When I was still living on Anausia-sei. I had just turned eleven when I started, and Chichi had been thirteen," she said quickly, dancing around her snarling husband. He looked vaguely pissed that she had caught him off guard like that, but it had felt wickedly good.

"Oh?" Vegeta said arrogantly, snorting. "So you already knew how to fight when I met you for the first time." Great. Nice to know that my wife can kill me in my sleep if she wanted to. Damn, she could have murdered me easily on the night we were married. Maybe I should be a little more careful in my actions from now on.

Bulma shrugged as he kept his wary eye on her. He was still trying to find an exposed spot on her. He did not find one.

"Yes, I did. But not as well as I do now. Your mother provided Chichi and I with the most skilled sword masters, martial artists, fighters, warriors, etc, on Vegeta-sei. We are far more advanced than the majority of the army population. We were even taught bodily anatomy, so we could kill an enemy quickly without even using a sword."

Vegeta chuckled to cover his sudden nervousness. "Is that so?" he said, flicking his sword at her and catching her blade. It irritated the hell out of him that his wife was so...skilled in the deadly arts.

They circled each other with their swords touching, their intense eyes locked. Bulma noticed a flash of desire light his dark eyes, but it was quickly hidden. The corner of her mouth quirked up, and she slowly slid her sword up his in a brash, smug manner until their faces were only an inch apart.

Vegeta cursed his eyes as they moved away from hers and drifted down to her parted lips. The urge to kiss her was intense, but this was entirely the wrong time. Damn himself for letting his mind drift to something else. He was getting too soft.

Bulma knew immediately what his biggest weak spot was. She nearly squealed with the knowledge. It was her! He could not keep his eyes off her if she made any sort of sexual inclination towards him. Right now he was staring at her lips as if they were a delicacy and he was a fat man.

She gave him a crooked smile that made him instantly randy. She danced away from him with a light laugh, noting the reddish tint to his skin as he glared at her. By now he knew what she was doing.

"You damn infuriating woman! Stop teasing me! How can I fight you properly if you do that?!"

She giggled and began to orbit around him. She was surprised that he had openly admitted she was a weakness. "Oh, poor, sweet Vegeta. Are you mad? Do you not think that you deserve it? You have been such a naughty man," she whispered slyly, her eyes lowered seductively. He growled at her, knowing that she was using her lovely feminine wiles on him.

"I do not deserve it!" he yelled, but then thought differently. Why not let her do her thing? She acted as if she had a strong will of her own when it came to him. All he had to do was concoct a quick plan, and he would have her melting at his feet like putty in no time at all, if he knew her. That way he could give her a taste of her own medicine. Oh, and how sweet it was.

Vegeta leered at her as he walked straight at her. She stilled and her smile dropped off her face at his abnormal action. Her sword jerked in front of her, poised for any tricks, and he snorted disdainfully. He flicked it out of the way with his powerful wrist and held it to the side with his own blade. She had a panicked look in her expressive eyes, but she tried to hide it as best she could. She had no clue about what he was about to do. She could not read his mind, movements, or actions.

Bulma blinked quickly several times as the length of his hard body pressed against her softer one in a bold approach to her person. She knew instantly what he was doing and was helpless against it as his lips caught hers before she could protest. She parted her lips immediately at the feeling of his tongue probing for entrance, feeling heat burst deep within her as a small groan reached his lips at her acceptance.

Bulma was completely immersed in the deep, devastating kiss when he suddenly pulled back, sidestepping away from her. She felt confusion and dishevelment for a moment at his clever deception. She could feel her cheeks heating as he stared at her, and she almost felt like his eyes were caressing her, touching her in places that yearned and cried out for his burning touch. She felt her knees wobble at the thought. He was so incredibly desirable....

Vegeta chuckled to himself. "What is wrong, my princess?" He was immensely enjoying the shocked-to-her-toes look on her expressive face. She drew in a ragged breath a moment later, and then, to his surprise, screamed insanely at the top of her lungs and rushed at him. The smile never left his face as her blade connected fiercely with his, making the metal in the weapons vibrate with a high-pitched metallic ring. She looked like the very devil with her blue eyes darkening, turning wild, her mouth twisting into an uncontrolled and livid snarl, and he was enjoying every moment of it. She was utterly, completely beautiful. And she was all his.

He pushed her away, only to have her come back at him with another scream. She began hacking at his sword with incredible speed, and he had trouble keeping up with her. She looked so damn mean when she was this infuriated, and it made his blood thrum with both desire and battle lust. The two feelings combined were almost too much, but he still managed to control her incessant slashing and slicing to keep his head.

She was pushing him backwards, he realized this quickly. She was trying to pin him against the wall so she would have all advantages. It was then that she would disarm him, or put him into a position where he would have no escape except death and he would have to give up. He wanted so very badly to beat her, but he knew she wanted to beat him more. He was tempted to just let her win.

Until he felt something.

He had no clue what it was, but his attention went away from her for just the barest of moments, trying to figure out what it was. It felt like a tingle, but a painful one. He could feel it in his chest, almost as if it was in his lungs, and then it spread and took hold of his whole upper body. It took hold of his arms and reached up his neck, spreading its spider-like fingers down to his stomach, making his stomach clench in agony. He felt his throat close up and he could not breathe. He felt his concentration completely disappear, his hold on his sword loosen in surprise.

Bulma watched with stunned eyes as Vegeta suddenly stopped, his sword hanging in mid-air, poised for defensive maneuvers a brief moment before it dropped to the hard-packed dirt. His dark eyes moved to hers slowly in utter disbelief, and she stared at him as his face completely drained of all blood.

And then he fell.

Bulma's eyes widened to the size of saucers before an ugly, strangled scream ripped from her throat. She threw her sword off to the side and dashed to him, reaching out for his prone form.

"Vegeta!!" she screamed, her hands moving over his body to find any wounds or broken bones or anything that might be causing him to do this. She found nothing. She had no clue if she had injured him or not, or even if he was bleeding internally.

"Vegeta," she cried, her eyes filling with helpless tears as her hands moved to his white face. His skin was always naturally darker than hers, and now he looked whiter than a ghost. The tears spilled down her cheeks as she made soft keening noises deep in her throat, her mind completely unaware that she was doing it. She tapped his cheek, kissed him, stroked her hand through his hair, tried everything that she could think of besides hauling off and slapping him. She doubted that would work, and she did not wish a sick and pissed Vegeta on her hands.

She looked around frantically as he continued to remain still. It was almost morning now, and the sky was just beginning to turn a lighter color from the pitch black that had enveloped them only moments ago.

Bulma looked at him again and moved her ear to over his mouth, praying that he was still breathing. She sighed with relief when she heard him inhale and then exhale, but it sounded weaker than it should have been. She needed to get help now.

The princess sobered up her tears and kissed him one more time, promising him that she would be right back, even though he could not hear her. She stroked his bloodless face one last time with her hand before she jumped to her feet and ran to the palace, her yells and cries for help echoing around her.