Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Unfaithful ❯ Part Four: 23 ( Chapter 23 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

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________________________~*Part Four*~: War
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Even without using his ability to sense Vejita's ki, Kakkarott would have been able to find the prince easily. After mustering up some much-needed courage, he took the steps required to take him into Bulma and Yamcha's old chambers.

Vejita's presence here was undeniable-- Bulma's vanity mirror had been shattered, her cosmetics broken on the floor, and the scent of a Saiyan's anger and sadness was strong in the air. Kakkarott moved past the ruined vanity, giving the disaster area a dark look before turning to the balcony, where he knew that Vejita would be. And sure enough, the man's slouched figure could be seen from among the broken rock that used to be the railing. Kakkarott paused before going any closer.

After they had made what little plans they could without Vejita, Magdalene had dismissed the others and pulled Kakkarott aside, her voice shaking with worry. Kakkarott hadn't seen her so stirred up in years.

"Go after him," she had ordered. The intensity in her odd-colored eyes had made it difficult for him to keep the eye contact and made him fidget nervously. "He needs someone who was involved to talk to him. To tell you the truth, I am almost afraid to leave him alone when he's like this."

Kakkarott had not been so excited. "It would be unforgivable to invade his privacy right now. And besides that, Vejita's never been a good one for intimate chats. He'll be fine."

"No." Magdalene smiled a melancholy smile. "You do not understand-- Bulma means more to him then we all think. He's taking this hard, and doubtless he's thinking of some dangerous way to exact revenge. Just go, Kakkarott. See if you can at least talk him out of doing something rash. Remind him that his actions could put Bulma in danger as well."

Seeing that he had no choice, Kakkarott had sighed. "I'll try." Then, more quietly, "Do you think that they've developed a-- a..." He hesitated to say the near-sacred word. "Bond?"

Magdalene's eyes twinkled with some sort of maternal pride, for the very same thought had crossed her mind frequently as well. "That remains to be seen, my friend."

"I hope they did," Kakkarott remarked, sounding more like his normal self. "It would be funny to see how Vejita would handle having someone to spoil besides himself!"

"Go on, you fool!" Magdalene chided with a touch of humor in her voice. "Talk some sense into my son, and remember-- don't provoke his temper."

Kakkarott had shuddered. He needed no reminder for that. "I'll do my best."

Magdalene turned somber. "In times such as these, Kakkarott, that is all we can do."

He could not help but think that sometimes, even that was not enough.

So now he stood at the balcony, staring at the broad back of his potential murderer. Vejita must have sensed him by now, he reasoned, so he might as well get on with it. Bravely, he stepped out onto the balcony, wringing his hands together tensely.

Vejita surprised him with his quiet reaction. "Speak up now, Kakkarott, so that I won't have to deal with you any longer than I have to."

Shell-shocked, Kakkarott crossed the space and sat down beside (but with no less than a foot or two between them) him and dangled his legs over the now railing-less balcony edge. "Did the humans leave yet?" Immediately after spitting that out, he mentally slapped himself. What the hell was his problem?!

Vejita nodded. "They'll be halfway to their overpopulated planet by now."

"You know, this wasn't your fault." Kakkarott knew he had pinpointed one of the major problems when the prince snorted to cover up his sudden tensing.

"You of all people should know that I waste no time on self-loathing, Kakkarott," was the curt reply. "It doesn't matter who's fucking fault it was now, does it? All that matters is war-- revenge."

"Bulma would kill me if I let you do something risky," Kakkarott said, trying not to sound too much like a parent. "And getting yourself killed would make things that much worse for her."

Vejita lifted his chin in defiance. "I am not a dumbass. There would be no point in revenge if I did not plan to live to taste the fruits of my labor."

Kakkarott nodded. He was right-- he was not likely to plot something that involved his death. But still... that did not mean that wouldn't try to pull a stunt that would get countless others killed in the process. "I wish that we had just taken Bulma while we had the chance."

"Then you are a fool," Vejita snapped. "If we had done that, Yamcha would make it out to look like we're criminals. Then he would be able to enlist other empires to his aid." He shook his head. "Don't you think that I've thought of that already? Damn, Kakkarott! Sometimes the extent of your idiocy is truly amazing."

Kakkarott, accustomed to such comments from this man, let the insult roll off is back like water. He knew better than to keep on about such a touchy subject for too long, so he quit and moved on. "Some people think that you and Bulma share a bond."

Vejita seemed startled at this. "Some people as in Magdalene, am I correct? Damn her and her sentimental insights..."

"But its true, isn't it?"

Coal-black eyes studied him sharply "Its too early to tell. I have not claimed her yet. For her sake and mine, I am glad that the bond hasn't shown up yet."

Kakkarott nodded. It truly would be a terrible and horrifying experience to have to bear the burden of your mate's problems on top of your own, especially when you were in a situation like Bulma and Vejita's. Vejita was smart to think that way.

"Magdalene sent you here to try to reform my plans into less violent ones, didn't she?" Kakkarott didn't even have to confirm the guess. "That woman is wearing on my nerves. I am thinking of overturning the paranoid bitch and assuming the throne so that this war can be done right."

Kakkarott felt a chill go up his spine. In the grip of his temper and malice, Vejita would not make the kind of king that he wanted to live under. "If you did that," he said quietly. "Then you would be acting just like your dad."

Vejita at first looked shocked at the honest comment, but then his expression turned to one of anger. "My father would have killed Bulma after getting what he wanted, then used it to taunt Yamcha while he sent millions of soldiers to die at the hands of the humans' guns. He was a coward. Do not ever compare me to that son of a bitch again, if you want to live."

Kakkarott's expression was hopeful. "Then you won't do it?"

"I am a different kind of leader," he replied, his monotonous voice betraying nothing. "I would not assume the throne if I did not think it necessary."

"I understand," Kakkarott replied, but he wasn't so sure whether he wanted to accept that answer or not. Vejita was extremely unpredictable-- anything could happen.

"Do you?" Vejita met his companion's eyes steadily and with a bit of a warning in them. "I don't believe you, Kakkarott. If you understood, then you wouldn't have asked me the fucking question." The prince then stood and left the room, leaving Kakkarott to mull over his response.

And the more he thought about it, the higher the stakes rose. Something was going to happen, and soon. If only Kakkarott could put his finger on it...
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"Cowering is not something that queens are supposed to do, but it suits you I think."

Bulma, due to her thought and tears, had not heard Yamcha slip into the room. Afraid for her life, she instantly jumped up, her sore body screaming in protest, and never took her eyes off of her husband, who looked like the cat who had successfully cornered a mouse-- her.

"I should have guessed that you would be pressed up against the glass, pining away for your dear monkey prince," Yamcha continued, noticing her tear-streaked face. He sitting on the edge of the table in the center of the room now, watching her every move. And every tear fall. "Your eyes are red now, darling. That's hardly the state that you should be returned to Earth in."

Cowardly of him not to comment on her bruises and cuts by his own hand, Bulma thought scornfully. Their people would be much more preoccupied over them-- they would wouldn't even notice something so insignificant as red eyes. And even if they did, they wouldn't dare do anything about it. Nobody held even a touch of sympathy for a queen that supposedly had everything.

"But its no matter. People will be much more concerned with the war. I will have no choice but to appoint all able-bodied men and boys to the army." He enjoyed the horrified look on Bulma's face at this. "Oh yes, men and boys. I think that all over age ten should suffice, don't you think? I mean, after hearing the sad tale of Prince Vejita raping and abusing you, they will be motivated to fight for me. I did, after all, save you from his wrath."

"If they will become motivated at that, then how do you suppose they would feel if they knew the roles were reversed?" Bulma asked in a low voice. "What would become of your war plans then?"

Yamcha's calm facade faltered for the briefest moment at that, but then the cool mask was in place again. "I won't even acknowledge such an outlandish statement. My men are loyal to me, even if you are not."

"They are not so loyal as you think," Bulma hissed, not exactly knowing where all of this talk was coming from. Perhaps it was the thought that if Vejita were here, he would have been proud of her. "When you turn your back, they share mockeries and laugh at your drunkenness!"

"Silence!" he roared, lunging at her impulsively. When he was close, gripping the front of her torn wrap, Bulma could see that his face had gone slightly red, and veins stood out in his neck. "You will only speak when prompted, do you hear me? And even then, I demand compliance, or else you shall wear the marks of your insolence on your body." To prove his claim, he grabbed her chin and socked her right in the jaw. Bulma tasted metallic blood as she recoiled from the blow, her face turned away from Yamcha.

"It takes a coward to hit a woman," she finally managed, moving painfully to face him. As she held his angry gaze, she could not help but think how hard it was to be brave. Finally, she couldn't take it any longer. With a stifled sob, she turned away from her enraged husband.

"You don't invoke even the slightest bit of remorse or sympathy in me, you sniveling little cunt!" Yamcha finally spat, his face twisted into an unattractive mask of mixed anger and surprise. Then he turned and called to one of his guards, who entered carrying chains and shackles. At the sight of them, Yamcha grinned, while Bulma felt her heart drop.

Yamcha took the pieces of heavy metal, then dismissed the guard. "I wanted to have the pleasure of putting them on myself," he explained with an excited smile. "You see, you have left me with no choice. I cannot risk you escaping, or committing suicide, for that matter. I can't live without you, can you understand that?"

Bulma could not think of what to do or what she could say to this. All she knew was that there was no way to save herself from this one, and that once those shackles were on, Yamcha could do whatever he wanted with her. The queen was rendered numb and speechless as he began to put the things on, humming a battle hymn under his breath. Unconsciously, she noted that he was singing off-key.

"These smaller ones go around each of your tiny ankles, darling," Yamcha informed her as he put them on. The metal was cold and uncomfortably tight on her skin. "I am going to attach chains to them, you see, so that you cannot run away. Those chains will then be attached to this table here for the time being." Bulma dumbly watched as he attached the chains to the legs of the chairs, with obvious pleasure. Then he approached her again. "And now there's a metal collar of sorts, that goes around your neck and has a chain that I will also attach to the table. When we are on the move, however, it will also suffice as a sort of... leash." The 'collar' was heavy and restricting, and Bulma had to adjust her neck just to hold it up and to breathe. "There we go!" Yamcha annouced. "That should hold it for now. I have other business to attend to for now though, sweets, so any... experimentation will have to wait until later.

Blue eyes never left the ground as he stood, brushed himself off, and looked her over once more before taking his leave.

"Its a shame that I hadn't thought of this before," he commented, almost to himself. "I find the idea of chains and shackles to be quite erotic, don't you think?"

The knowledge that he would most likely test this theory on her later made Bulma want to vomit. Unfortunately, she had neither the nourishment nor the strength to do so. Before Yamcha had even left the room, the queen had fallen into a trancelike state that could by no means be called resting.

For once, Bulma did not have to worry about nightmares, because she was living one.
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Rhapsody~*
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(A/N): Hey all! Sorry about the shorter chapter. It isn't because of laziness or writer's block or anything, its just because there is no way that I could group the upcoming events with all of this stuff. They need a chapter of their own... *evil smile as the readers glower at her almost, kind-of spoiler* But anyway, I would have posted this sooner but school started and all that, so I've been a bit preoccupied. (God how I despise school!)

Also, I have been on the lookout for another good fic lately. I've been having trouble finding one that interests me though. Would it be so large a favor to ask you guys to keep me posted on what quality fics are out there right now? I would appreciate your help very, very much!

And finally, a note on the next chapter... Umm... I think that I can have it posted in no more than five days, seeing that I already have half of it written and the other half outlined. Keep an eye out, because you just never know. Until then... oh yes, and please remember to review! ^_~


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