Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The True King of Thieves ❯ Corrosion ( Chapter 3 )

True King of Thieves

Ryomi Hayashi

Chapter Three: Corrosion

Bulma woke up the next morning warm and rested, thanks to Vegeta's cloak. She wasn't however, used to sleeping on the floor, and was stiff and sore as a result. She rose and dressed, folding up her nightclothes and Vegeta's cloak. She opened her flap and stepped outside, her foot landing on a ragged patch of dew soaked flowers. Bulma winced as she realized these ugly flowers had thorns, and she reached down to pull out the thorns. Grumbling to herself, she picked the last one out and noted that they had not drawn blood.

Kyrinn saw her and laughed. "I see you've woken up rested, and a little clumsy I'm afraid."

For the first time Bulma just wanted to reach out and slap him, mostly because she had a very minor case of heartbreak. Not only was he a disgusting sadist as she had discovered, but she couldn't have him even if she wanted.

So she forced a sad smile and said, "Good morning Kyrinn." He didn't ask her what was the matter, but instead bid her good morrow and walked off. Bulma sighed, and turned to survey the camp.

The camp in the morning was alive as every, people were in and out of tents and she could smell and see breakfast being made. Food, apparently, was made in alternate locations in the camp due to lack of organization in that area. It was a good thing they made it near her tent that morning, it was hard to find. Sometimes they even made it outside of the camp entirely, and just to prevent fire hazard in the thieves' camp specifically.

Looking around some more, she spotted a boy near her tent, or Vegeta's tent as she had discovered. The person she saw was Warren, a stranger to her, polishing Vegeta's sword. He was a brown-haired; dark eyed teenager, with a childlike face and slightly toned biceps. Had she been ten years younger, she would've found him mildly attractive. Attractive men were a rarity in the camp, something that was surprising to her considering the first two people she met were handsome.

He seemed shy, the way his eyes were darting around, and that was a trait Bulma liked in men. He also was an advisor to Vegeta, because he was caring for his weapons. If he was an advisor to Vegeta, he had to be trustworthy, and thus a good person to meet. Hoping to make a new friend, she decided to introduce herself to the young teenager and walked over to him.

"Hi, I haven't seen you around, are you Vegeta's assistant?" she asked.

He nodded, "Yes mistress, and yours as well."

"You must be Warren, nice to meet you. I'm Bulma." He smiled at her friendliness.

"Nice to meet you too. Would you like something to eat?"

"Maybe later, I'm not hungry yet. Thanks anyway. So, how's working for Vegeta treating you?"

"Well," he said slowly, "He can seem a little harsh at first, but he has a good heart… somewhere in there. He just likes to hide it." She nodded.

"Yeah, but he's one of those guys you have to have patience around. He's always losing his temper, it's amazing."

"But I'm sure he's treated you well, I hope, he does believe in respecting women... to an extent. He considers men treating women too poorly a sign of cowardice."

"Ahh yes," she said, rolling her eyes, "and act of cowardice is beneath him."

They laughed, but Bulma added, "But I guess you're right. He's treated me well."

Warren blushed and looked down. "I hope this doesn't sound strange, but thank you for talking to me, mistress, most people ignore me because… Well, I'm the runt of this tribe."

Bulma smiled. He sure was insecure, but adorable nonetheless. "It's no problem! And by the way, you don't have to call me mistress, you can call me Bulma."

His features glowed. "Ok, Bulma. As long as you don't mind."

Warren ducked his head timidly when Vegeta walked by.

"Good morning, Your Highness," he said shyly.

Vegita grunted in response. "You do remember my little plan, do you not?"

Warren looked at Bulma sadly and nodded. Confusion dawned her features. What were they talking about? Were they talking about her? "Yes, Your Highness, I remember."

This time Vegeta looked at Bulma. "I was postponing it but now I've made my decision. Cancel it."

Warrens jaw sagged open but he quickly shut it. "Your Majesty!"

"Don't speak of it, I've made my decision and it's final."

"Yes, yes Your Highness."

And with that Vegeta turned and left. Warren sighed with relief and smiled.

"Today's your lucky day, Bulma," he said to the confused, blue-haired woman.

"Why? What's going on?" she asked.

"All I can say is this: Vegeta's taken a fancy to you," he said with a wink.

"WHAT? How do you know this?"

He reddened, "I told you, I can't tell you! If I tell you and Vegeta finds out, he'll murder me!"

"This plan has something to do with me, I know that much. When I first came here he kept saying something about how I was some kind of 'hostage' and have a 'purpose' here. Does that have to do with this plan?"

He grinned. "You catch on to things so quickly! I don't have to tell you what's going on, I'm sure you'll figure it out."

She planted her hands on her hips. "I won't keep insisting, but this whole plan thing is really getting on my nerves."

There was a moment of awkward silence before Warren said, "You should probably go eat with the others. You'll be hungry if you don't."

She sighed, nodded, and then said, "Well, I'll see you around, Warren. It was nice talking to you."

He smiled and agreed, and Bulma went off to eat. As she left, her thoughts were riddled with the mystery of the 'plan' Vegeta mentioned. All she knew was that it had to do with her and was cancelled. What could it be?

***

(Note: Things starts getting serious here, if you're offended by suggestive rape with not too much detail, skip ahead.)

By sunset, Bulma was already lost in the woods. She had been wandering on the outskirts of the camp and had seen something that looked like a lake. Thinking some cleaning would do her good; she walked over to the shimmering body of water.

When she reached the water it was already twilight, and the darker hues of the sky were reflecting gloriously on the water. Bulma took a moment to admire this scene, dropping down onto the ground to sit. The stars were starting to show, she noticed, and the constellations were different from the skies of her home. It wasn't exactly proof that she was in a different world; she could still just be in a different country.

Stopping herself, she shook her head. The time travel theory was too simple. If it were true, all she would have to do would be go back to the spot where they had found her and look for a machine. Life wasn't that simple, though she wished with all her heart it was. Maybe she could just go back to the spot they found her and look for a time machine, just out of hope. It was silly, but the circumstances were ripe for some absurd explanation.

Banishing further speculations on how to get home, Bulma stood up and dusted herself off. She'd forgotten how hopelessly dirty her clothes were, and reminded, she sighed in distress. Bulma walked over to the lake, wrapping herself with Vegeta's cloak to keep warm and standing close to the water. She bent over and washed her face and hands, the water ice cold and giving her more shivers. Satisfied, she sat back down by the waters edge looking at the stars and the moonlit water.

Some time passed, though not much, and she decided to head back. She started walking a bit but couldn't see any camp in the distance; no matter what direction she took. She tried circumnavigating the small lake and looking for any sign of smoke coming from the camp fire, but to no avail. They had probably put it out early, as they often did.

With this in mind, Bulma decided to stay by the lake and think of what to do before she got hopelessly lost. So, she sat down, bundled up with Vegeta's cloak, and looked at the stars. Not exactly a serene moment, considering she didn't know where her only hope of food and shelter was, but one without too much panic.

About 45 minutes after she had first arrived at the lake, she heard the sound of a horse trotting. Jumping up, she rushed over to where the sound was before she remembered the Miyanans. Sure, they didn't have to know she was staying with the thieves, but from what she had heard of them, they didn't sound like the friendliest bunch.

The horse sped up its trot and stopped by the waters edge. Bulma looked up at the rider and sighed a mix of relief and sadness. It was Kyrinn, not a Miayanan.

He stepped off of his horse and looked at her, not saying a word. What's with him? She thought to herself.

"I saw you with his cloak," he said, walking towards her, "You've become his new wench, haven't you?"

She paused. He lent me a cloak, big deal, she thought, that makes us lovers all of a sudden?

"Yeah, he gave me his cloak, but I was cold. That's it. Why the attitude?" Bulma glared at him for the implication. She was developing an attitude of her own.

He scoffed. "You can't hide it from me, you know. Vegeta wasn't sleeping in his tent last night, and everyone's been telling me about your little night of passion with him."

Rumor's are a bitch, Bulma thought. "Well they're wrong, I didn't sleep with Vegeta. Why the hell do you care, anyway?"

He laughed. "Of course, Vegeta didn't tell you about his plan. You know, Bulma dear, our tribe is a democracy. Poor Vegeta was so frightened he wouldn't be leader that he kidnapped a wench in the forest and decided to threaten her to vote for him. I see that his plan has changed."

"Yeah, it's changed alright, this morning he cancelled it."

"Of course. He's already seduced you into his bed, why carry on?"

She balled her fists tightly and her knuckles turned white. "How dare you say that! And with no proof! You're just jealous of Vegeta because the girl you tried to seduce like Vegeta more than you!"

He struck her across the face. Hard. "Me? Jealous of that pig! I'll show you something that pathetic coward could never do properly!"

He grabbed her and pinned her to the ground, tearing her dress with his teeth. She fought as hard as she could, swearing and yelling, but to no avail.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, you lecherous bastard!" she yelled. He ignored her.

Now he had already torn off all he needed to, and was fumbling with his own clothes. She took this opportunity to knee him in the groin and as a result he winced bitterly in pain.

Although he was weak for a moment, it did no good. She still was trapped with him holding her against the ground.

Then, she saw him. He struck Kyrinn in the jaw so hard, blood poured from his mouth. He grabbed him by his hair and bashed his head against a tree, bark and blood scattering everywhere.

Finally, he punched him one last time in the temple and his was out cold.

Bulma sat there in shock. Things had happened so fast; she hardly knew what was going. Had she almost been raped? The moments ago seemed like a blur, so surreal she barely understood what had happened.

Tears poured from her eyes as reality hit her and she stood up, trying to keep her torn dress together miserably.

"Vegeta…" she said. He stared at her, emotionless as usual. She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his chest. "Thank you so much."

"Woman…" he started, preparing to give her a lecture, but stopped. Instead, he just stood there, and after a while, awkwardly put an arm around her. She hugged him tighter and the tears flowed stronger.

Vegeta sighed internally with frustration. Bulma didn't know why he had been able to save her so suddenly, but he'd rather she didn't know. She'd probably take him for a stalker, although he was feeling like one. Moreover, the story was unnecessary, he was sure all she cared about was being safe, not about how the person who saved her had found her.

Basically, the story started when he had seen Kyrinn take his best horse and mount it, preparing to leave. Vegeta had wandered close the stables when he caught sight of this atrocity. Wondering why he dared to touch his best horse, he stood there and watched from a distance. Kyrinn then did the unthinkable.

He turned and galloped away with it. Vegeta's eyes narrowed in anger and frustration, knowing he could do was stand there and fume with rage. Finally, when Kyrinn was gone, Vegeta had taken another horse and gone to the lake, thinking that Kyrinn had taken the horse to get a drink. Even though he had left in a gallop, indicating somewhat that he was up to something other than leading his horse to water, he still had to take his horse to drink sooner or later. The lake was closer than the camp, and a place where the thieves took their horses, so it seemed like a safe bet.

Vegeta had waited 10 minutes before he saw Bulma in his cloak approaching the water. He didn't have anything to say to her, so he turned around and waited for the sound of horse hooves. Kyrinn took a while to get there, so Vegeta had inadvertently fallen asleep. He didn't wake up until he heard a female shriek, and then things went on from there.

Presently, Bulma was still crying into Vegeta's tunic. She stopped to look up at him with tear-flooded eyes and started to explain what happened, assuming he didn't know.

"I just came out here," she said between sobs, "And… and I think he followed me."

"I told you to stay away from him."

"I know, I'm sorry…"

"You don't need to apologize."

He took off the top piece of his tunic and handed it to her. Sure, he was letting down his pride for a moment, but he couldn't resist an opportunity to flaunt his physic.

"Put this on before the whole tribe decides to be like Kyrinn."

She smiled weakly, tearfully, pulling it on over her head. Although Bulma thought Vegeta looked incredible with only the bottom half of his tunic, but now wasn't the time to gawk. Instead, she walked over to the horse with him, and he helped her up.

They didn't speak a word as they went back to the camp, but they didn't need to. With Vegeta, less conversation was better, and Bulma knew that. In silence, they reached the camp in a matter of minutes, and Bulma internally chided herself for not finding such an obvious route herself.

Dismounting the horse, Vegeta helped her down once again. Bulma smiled at him and he didn't expect what she was about to do. She threw her arms around him one last time, pressing her cheek against his bare chest. Thanking him in words just seemed so overused, and a simple hug would be enough. This time, out of awkwardness, he didn't hug her back. He didn't even touch her; he just stood there feeling uncomfortable.

Vegeta had opened his mouth to protest, but he had the feeling Bulma was in a bit of a fragile state. Instead, he waited for her to stop, feeling a mix of confusing and strange comfort. He saw her look up at him with big, teary eyes, only this time like she expected something.

He rolled his eyes and put an arm around her, completely reluctant. When he felt the barest move from her to pull away, he slid away his arm in a hurry. It was certainly an awkward moment for him, although she looked pretty relaxed. Especially for someone who had just almost been raped.

Bulma turned to leave, heading back to her tent. She didn't say goodbye, but she didn't need to either.

As she left, Vegeta watched her go, and could almost still feel her in his arms. Everything was falling into place; a tragedy had worked to his benefit. He hadn't expected to have an opportunity to win her favor so soon, and he certainly didn't imagine having the thrill of punching his enemy in the face to lead to it.

He looked up at the stars, feeling less empty than he normally did but still feeling abnormal. He decided it was time to go and walked over to his horse. Grabbed its reigns, he pulled it towards the camp and the horse complied without much work.

He walked back to the camp with the horse and saw the familiar candlelight and tents, all the while thinking of Bulma. Her scent, her eyes, her in his arms, it was enough to drive her into his thoughts and interrupt all the rest of them. It was enough to make him wonder about himself, why he had taken to her so soon.

But above all, he had wondered about irony. Corrosion had led to affection, and this was very ironic indeed. But then again, so was having your most hated enemy drive a beautiful woman into your arms.

Life was ironic, in fact, and it was the first time he could come to say he didn't mind at all.