Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Way I Was Before ❯ Not An Option ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Bulma and the elusive Vejiita have a little discussion about their relationship...interested? ~_^ check it out.
Disclaimer: oh, why would anyone sue me anyway? I have NOTHING!

Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 03.01.2002 | Updated On: 02.27.2012 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.5K | Visits: 2.7K | Status: Completed

Chapter Two

Tonight's meal had been simple; a slice of salmon steak (thin of course) with a side of potatoes and carrots.Bulma did enjoy her vegetables . . .more so than the average meat product. She had long since made the dinner, and Trunks had appeared in the kitchen around six thirty P.M. to eat it.He was always most talkative after a day of training with his father, and he usually looked forward to his meals with Bulma. He would come bounding into the kitchen after being inside the GSR for hours and announce that he was going to take a shower.Trunks was quite independent for his age, and Bulma was quite proud of that.
After a quick shower, he'd come racing back into the kitchen and plopped himself in the chair across from his mother.
"What's for dinner, Mom?" He had asked that evening in usual tone.She had glanced up from reading her book and smiled, eyes brightening,
"Salmon, Trunks . . .you like fish, right?"
Her little boy had nodded, a ravenous look overtaking his soft features.
"Definitely, Mom.So-uh-how was work for you today?"
Bulma quietly got up from the table and went to the stove to check on the fish.Gripping her spatula, she shrugged.
"Oh, you know, sweetie . . .the same old stuff.I did a lot of reading today because of the new business that called me the other day. You remember?" Bulma tried to simplify the plans to buy out the small, Chinese based Software Company Mae-Ling Tech, Co. to her small son.Capsule Corp. had decided, reluctantly, to buy out their stock and lease them rights to produce a small amount of capsules to distribute their products. Over much deliberation, Bulma had finally decided that since they were about to go out of business anyway, perhaps it was a good idea to market the products under the Capsule Corp. logo.She saw Trunks nod out of the corner of her eye.
"Yeah, Mom, I remember . . ." He replied, his voice curiously fading out.That only happened when . . .
Bulma turned slightly to replace the spatula on her spoon rest.A flame of black hair caught her eye, and she turned fully around to see her husband--bending down into the refrigerator. The black of his shorts was all she could see, and she raised an eyebrow as he rummaged around in the appliance.A muttered curse came from behind the door when he dropped something and she rolled her eyes. Finally, Vejiita stood up and shut the refrigerator door, sniffled in what seemed like defiance and took a swig from the water bottle he'd retrieved.Bulma watched as Trunks gazed at his father in some kind of trance-like state.He holds him in such reverence . . .
Vejiita did not make eye contact with her as she continued to stare at him, obvious annoyance filling her oceanic eyes. Suddenly, she felt a bubble form in her chest as he flung open the pantry door and grabbed a protein bar out of the huge supply she'd attained from the vitamin shop in town.Vejiita moved about the kitchen, oblivious to the fact that his family sat before him.His princely arrogance certainly hadn't faded through the years . . .but Bulma's tolerance for it had. The bubble did not dissipate as he continued to ignore every other living person in the room, and Bulma felt her eyes narrow as he turned to exit the kitchen.Her voice exploded from her throat like a fountain of lead.
"Wouldn't you like some dinner,Ouji-sama?"
The title left her quivering lips like a mocking nickname rather than the respectful air it should have contained, and she saw him stop dead in his tracks. The muscles on his back seemed to twitch with supreme ire, and his neck twisted slowly backwards until he was looking at her.Bulma met his gaze with equal intensity and fervor. Trunks had sat between the two of them, wondering who would combust first . . .his father's brows had creased to the point of no return, and his mother's eyes flashed with the look he had seen so many times--right before he was about to be punished.
Bulma watched as Vejiita turned to face her and narrowed his own eyes.Those black, bottomless pits of despair studied her aggravated features and gave her a once over look--from her head to her feet, and then back again. And then, that smirk appeared, and Bulma felt her body quiver with an intense anger she knew would never be equaled again in her lifetime.Vejiita adjusted the waist band of his tight shorts and turned around again.
"No . . ." He muttered, heading back down the hallway towards the GSR.She could have sworn that she heard him chuckle, but she didn't stop to wonder. Bulma growled in frustration and swiveled around to the salmon again, which was on the verge of burning.She flicked off the switches on the stove and removed the hot plate from its burner.A small voice brought her out of her cloud of anger,
"Mom?" Trunks's tone suggested that of fear and confusion, so she turned to face him again, letting all traces of her annoyance leave her face.
"Yeah, sweetie?" Her eyes threatened to brim with tears, but she had cried too many times in the past month for that to happen again.It always seemed as though her eyes had finally dried up, and then the tears would come again. An unexpected blame shot through her brain--damn you, Gohan, for even telling us that there was going to be another Boudoukai!It was bad enough that her husband was already obsessed with training, but now . . .
"Are you ok?" The small voice interrupted her torturous train of thought once more.Bulma smiled weakly and smoothed the front of her sweat pants.
"I'm fine, Trunks." She replied finally, watching as his face softened again to contentment.A quick glance at his face made her shiver;he looks so like his father . . .those angular features, the deep eyes. Regardless of the fact that she shared the same color eyes as her son, the shape, the intensity of them would always belong to Vejiita.
"Why isn't Dad eating with us . . .?"
Her memory of that evening faded as she slowly munched on her dinner.It was now nine o'clock and Vejiita had not left the GSR since he'd returned there nearly three hours ago.Trunks had gone to bed half an hour ago. She felt her throat constrict as she remembered tucking him into bed . . .
"Mom . . .does Dad like us?I mean, when I train with him, I think he does.But sometimes . . .well sometimes it just is like he doesn't like us very much."
Bulma's mouth dropped open and her eyes lost their brilliancy as he spoke.She had swallowed her sorrow and touched her son's cheek.
"Your Father loves you, Trunks . . .he does, very much.Don't ever think he doesn't, alright?" She knew she had told the truth.Vejiita loved his son no matter what he did to hide it. It shown in his eyes as surely as the desire to be strong.Perhaps he did not know how to show it, or even how to admit it, but he loved him.She had watched Trunks nod slowly, drifting off to sleep.
"Ok, Mom.If he likes me then he must like you." And his eyes had shut.Bulma tucked the sheets close around his small form and left the room.
Now, here she sat, contemplating her son's words.She was sure, beyond a doubt that Vejiita loved Trunks.It was his feelings towards her that confused and hurt her.He loved Trunks, but did he love her? There were times when she believed it, and there were times when she was sure that Vejiita would never learn to care for anyone but himself.The last time she had actually seen him and been able to talk to him had been over a month ago. Since Gohan had announced the tournament, Vejiita had done nothing but train . . .and she knew it was so he could fight Goku--and win.
He would get up early in the morning, around five or five thirty, but never any later than that.Training took up his morning and afternoon, but he would occasionally come into the house to get food or drink. Most of the time, she was not here, and so sightings of Vejiita were rare during the day.After an adequate amount of time in the GSR, he'd usually exit around ten at night and head right up to the bathroom.There, he would take a ten-minute shower and get into bed not long after that.On rare occasion, he would come down after his shower and get a drink or sit in the kitchen. Either way, he did not converse with her, and after a few attempts on her part to address him she had given up due to his obvious disinterest in whatever she had to say.
Bulma finished her small meal and placed the plate on the floor beside her chair.She reached for the remote--and found it briskly removed from her reach.The thief seated himself on the coach beside her chair and left her wide-eyed and slightly frustrated.Bulma's nose trailed in the air for a moment, and she shook her head.No matter how sweaty he was, or how dirty, he always seemed to smell good. Of course, he smelled best after a shower, and for a while he'd actually used cologne.But there was an air about him that always seemed to make him intoxicating.Bulma ground her teeth together, her anger towards him returning.She took a deep breath as he began to channel surf.
"How do you do it?" She asked quietly, watching the features of his face twist and change as she spoke.Vejiita turned his head towards her.
"Do what?" he asked, with some measure of ignorance.Bulma leaned towards him,
"How do you shut down your awareness of other people and act as though you are the only person alive who matters?"
Vejiita snorted and chuckled sardonically.
"I may as well be." He replied, that characteristic arrogance seeping from every pour of his perfect body.Bulma seethed beside him, truly disappointed,
"I thought you had changed," she whispered, angry that a choked sob had escaped her throat.She clenched her fists and left the chair, crossing in front of the couch.
Vejiita felt the crease in his eyebrows diminish as he saw the crushing pain on her face.His arm shot out of its own free will to grip her hand. The soft skin of her fingers danced over the palm of his hand and did not grip as he had thought they would.She stopped in front of him, her chest heaving and her arms trembling.Vejiita felt the world spin as he realized he had gone too far. But his ice-cold soul had no intentions of revealing that to any other living being.How long had it been since he'd talked with her, laughed with her in private?How long had it been since he'd even touched her? But the important thing was that idiot, Kakarotto.Beating that impertinent fool to a pulp was all he needed in this world, and all he wanted.Is it . . .? Vejiita felt his insides clench as emotions conflicted, collided and wrecked--he snarled and pulled her arm towards him until she was kneeling on the couch next to him.He leaned into her gaze as she gasped and gained her balance.Anger poured from her face as her jaw clenched and she tightened her forearm muscles.Vejiita brought his mouth to her ear.
"The Saiya-jin no Ouji changes for no one, onna . . .maybe you should have thought of that before you ever came near me."
"Yes . . .?" She whispered in reply, making tiny shivers race down his spine, then, "don't lieBejiita-sama, it is unbecoming of a prince."
Bulma's heart caught in her throat as he growled and pushed her down onto the couch, pinning her body beneath his.His mouth hovered inches above her nose, then her forehead, and the heat of his bare chest nearly smothered her. Unwittingly, a tear caressed the top portion of her cheek.Thankfully, he did not notice as he spoke again, angry amusement in his tone.
"I always have admired your confidence, onna . . ." He whispered harshly, brushing his hot lips against hers.Lust clouded his senses and made his irritation intensify.How weak am I?Can you not accept her even after so long?Bulma struggled to release her arms and push against his chest.
"Do not eventhinkabout touching me right now," she raised her voice only slightly, for effect, and realized that she meant every word of it.She desperately fought back the tears that were brimming at her eyelids, but they rebelled and laughed at her as they spilled down her flushing cheeks.
Vejiita felt his breathing begin to constrict as he watched the woman recoil from his touch and turn her face away from him.The spears that her actions had suddenly thrown into his heart cut him to the back of his rib cage. It seemed he could feel his hot blood spilling over every organ as she continued to struggle against him.Her feeble efforts to pry him off of her didn't budge him in the slightest. But he could feel himself relenting as her tears became more profuse.Vejiita braced himself as he spoke again.
"Why do you hate me now, Chikyuu-jin?You used to like me so much."
Bulma's head lifted slightly off of the couch and closer to his mouth.
"I wish I was capable of hating you, Vejiita.Because you deserve to be hated . . ."
Vejiita tried with all the strength in his body to keep his face trained and nonplussed by her words, hating himself for evenfeelingthe pain she had caused.And yet, what she had said was true. He felt his grip on her loosen.
"That is nothing new to me, Bulma . . ." Her name was a whispered moan on his lips and he sat up, wishing he had never even come into this room tonight. He had hoped to try, in the best way he knew how, to make up for the time he had spent avoiding her over the past month.It had happened before, and he was positive that she would be used to it by now. But he had been wrong of course, as he usually was when it came to her.Vejiita had felt himself rejecting his idea even as he had entered the room, but the smell of her, the sight of that soft blue cascade of hair pulled up into a ruffled bun on her headmadehim keep walking. Her exposed neck was a rare sight anymore, since she kept it covered most all the time to conceal the bite mark that still brandished her tender flesh like a burn mark.Slowly, he repositioned himself on the couch, feeling as if any sudden movement would send him careening off the edge of all sense and into a pit of fire.
Bulma quivered as she too sat up and watched as he leaned an elbow on the armrest of the couch and covered his eyes.She sniffled and touched a few fingers to her lips, then let her hand drop into her lap. Vejiita shifted beside her and made a slight noise of discontent.Her name had left an echo of dripping emotion in the air, thickening the atmosphere and making it impossible for her to breathe normally any longer. Bulma felt his words sink in, knowing he must be used to being hated--it had been part of his life for longer than she could ever know.But she absolutely refused to allow that fact to influence his relationship with her. During the first few years after Trunks was born, Vejiita had been a different man . . .but she could tell as well that perhaps it really wasn't a different man who had manifested himself.Perhaps that man had been inside of him all along . . .perhaps the caring, dedicated man he had become was only who he really was deep inside of his soul.Though dedication had never been a foreign word to Vejiita. Life had demanded of him that he be dedicated . . .but only to himself, and to his destiny.Bulma clutched at the collar of her shirt and leaned forward, dared to reach out and run two fingers down his hairline and to his jaw. She felt him shudder beneath her touch, and she repeated the action upon realizing the red-hot temperature of his skin.Sweat dripped down the side of his face and onto his neck, where it careened onto his chest.Bulma breathed as deeply as possible.
"Must it always end this way?" She asked quietly, wondering just exactly everything she had meant by that.This time he did not look at her when he spoke,
"What way?" He asked, his voice raking the air like a serrated knife.She cringed and looked away from his troubled expression.
"Must there always be this gap between us?Just when I think you're getting closer to me, you pull away--!"
"And I have good reason to!!" He bellowed, this time making eye contact with her.The wide expanses of her eyes dipped into his liquid insides and made him feel like vomiting.And he did have good reason, dammit! There was no way she could ever understand why . . .no way that he would ever understand it either.He stood and clenched his fists, "I'm going to shower and then to bed.I'll sleep in the guest room if you want me to."
Bulma felt her guts hit the floor, and she tucked her knees into her chest.Tears wet her pants and she closed her eyes.
"Vejiita . . ." his name rose out of the deepest recesses of her heart, "why do you stay--if you don't love me--?" "Don't you understand?!" His voice became a ragged, tearing piece of cloth that tugged at her throat and choked her.He grabbed her hand again and drug her off of the couch and into his chest, "don't you fucking understand by now?!Love is not an option for me!Not now, not EVER . . .it can NEVER be!!"
Bulma sobbed aloud then and searched his eyes for some kind of answer, some kind of explanation.
"Why?" She breathed the word against his skin and laid her head on his chest, not caring that she was confused as to why he had not shoved her away, "Vejiita, why?Don't you even care for me?For Trunks?"
To her great surprise, she felt his hand come to the back of her head and lift her to face him.Nodding slowly, he suddenly appeared to her as a small boy.
"Yes," he whispered, "yes I do.And it is the most dangerous thing I've ever done . . .because I don't know what it means . . .and I don't know what it's capable of."
"Then why hide it?!" She retorted, her hushed voice a rich sound of desperation and want. "Why do you hide it from me?"
Vejiita released his hold on her and stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers.He did not know how to respond at first, and then he bowed his head, looked up again into her leaking eyes.Fire entered his lungs as he replied.
"Because all I ever knew in life was pain and fear, until I met you.And even after so long I still do not understand much else . . .I am afraid, Bulma.I am afraid of myself, and of what you do to me.That is all."
Bulma lowered her eyes and closed them to the tortured look on his face.The last of her tears fell down her cheeks, and she sighed, giving in to his words once more.Because they always make so much sense . . .and yet no sense.She opened her eyes and saw him turn to leave.
"You don't have to sleep in the guest room, Vejiita." She said softly, seeing him stop, hesitation in his stance and in his step.He turned to her and nodded once, a silent regard, and continued on his way up the stairs.
Bulma collapsed on the couch once more and laughed to herself despairingly as she realized that the TV was on, speaking to no one.

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