Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Wish For The Past ❯ Radditz ( Chapter 33 )

He's taking it easy on me, Radditz noted, not sure whether to be annoyed or relieved. On the one hand, it was damn irritating to be thought of as weak enough that the Prince had to pull his punches. On the other hand, he was grateful because he really would rather not end up spending the next few weeks in bed with every bone in his body broken. Narrowly dodging a lazy punch, he pushed aside all concerns about strength and weakness and concentrated only on the fight at hand. He had to admit, it felt good to finally be doing something physical for a change, exercising muscles that hadn't had a chance to be used in over a week.

By silent agreement, both fighters remained firmly on the ground and relied only on their bodies, not using ki blasts of any sort. In this way, their bodies were put under more stress and the odds against Radditz were evened, even if it was only by a little. It also made sure that no stray ki bombs hit the house. The only thing they had to worry about was not hitting the ground so hard that it sunk the island. Or, in Vegeta's case, hitting his opponent so hard that it knocked him through the walls of the Kame house. All in all, it was definitely a challenge on both fighters' parts.

Radditz winced as he blocked yet another kick from the superior Vegeta, gritting his teeth against the pain. Damn it, he's just too strong! Even blocking his blows hurts like hell! He inwardly cursed when his prince smirked and brought a fist into Radditz's gut, knocking the breath out of him and nearly breaking a rib in the process. Wait a minute! He's just completely left his guard down right there, probably because he's confidant I won't be able to take advantage of it because of the pain I'm in right now. Guess it's up to me to prove him wrong, ne? Grimacing through the pain, the older boy swept a leg around the other Saiyan's legs, knocking them out from under him. Sweat dripped into his eyes as he hastily jerked away from Vegeta, who had turned his fall into a roll that brought his feet up towards Radditz's unprotected crotch. That would have hurt if it had been successful. A lot.

Leaping back to his feet, Vegeta grinned predatorily as he stalked towards his prey. He had been holding back the entire time to avoid ending the match too quickly, but that fall proved that Radditz, while pathetically weak compared to him, was at least a fairly intelligent opponent. Even so, I'm surprised he's managed to last this long against me. Radditz had managed to get the better of Vegeta in the fight, even if it was only for a brief moment, and now he would pay, and the young prince would enjoy every moment of it. With lightning speed that Radditz couldn't hope to match, he zipped in past the teenager's defenses and slammed a knee into the boy's stomach. Radditz doubled over the knee in agony, spitting up blood and saliva, though to his credit he did not cry out. Vegeta was impressed. Smirking evilly, he decided to make an... impression... of his own by lacing his fingers together to form a doubled up fist, which he smashed into Radditz's back with enough force to nearly snap his spine. Not quite, but enough that he would definitely be feeling that bruise for days. To his satisfaction, the older Saiya-jin screamed in agony, despite all his self control. Vegeta snagged a handful of his opponent's spiky mane and lifted his head up to eye level.

"You should be proud of yourself, you know," the shorter boy said smugly, laughing at Radditz's pain contorted features. "You nearly made me break a sweat." With that, he disdainfully tossed the teen away and turned his back on him. Radditz's body hit the ground and continued to roll from the momentum of the throw until he came to a stop face down in the dirt at the horrified Bulma's feet. Vegeta ignored them and grabbed his shirt from off the ground, walking into the house so he could get cleaned up before breakfast was served.

For a split second, Bulma was torn between the impulse to attack the stuck up prince in hopes of inflicting some damage to either his body or his stupid pride and tending to the fallen warrior at her feet. Common sense and concern for Radditz quickly won out and she knelt beside the battered teen and, with extreme exertion on her part, rolled him onto his back. Radditz was breathing heavily through his mouth, his eyes squeezed shut in pain as he fought to remain conscious. Bulma gently brushed her fingers across his cheek, marveling at how resilient the Saiyan boy was. She knew that if she had been through the same thing, she would probably be dead at this point. Her nimble fingers trailed down the teenager's defined chest and arms, tenderly probing for injuries and broken bones. As they encountered multiple bruises just beginning to turn purple and several cuts and scrapes, she winced in sympathy, cursing rather fluently under her breath.

"Stupid bastard, why'd he have to pick on Radditz?" she muttered fiercely, pulling a handkerchief from her purse so she could wipe some of the dirt from Radditz's wounds. She lifted her head and turned to face Yamcha, who had silently watched the fight from the shade of the tree. "Oi, Yamcha! Go inside and get a first aid kit from Master Roshi!" she ordered. "And make sure it has plenty of bandages and antibiotic!"

Shaking his head over Bulma's obvious attraction to the teenage Saiyan, Yamcha called back, "Okay, Bulma," and headed into the house to get the medical supplies she wanted. Bulma returned her attention to the object of her affections and smiled faintly, despite her concern. It felt good to put her hands on his well muscled chest, to trace its curves and edges with her finger tips. A faint blush spread across her cheeks, making her glad that she was the only one outside right now. She giggled a bit as she fingered his well defined biceps, imagining the strength that his arms possessed, and how good it would feel to have them wrapped around her. Running her hands through his wild mane of hair, she watched in fascination as nothing she did could rearrange the stubborn spikes. Now there's a hair stylist's nightmare, she chuckled inwardly. Not that he doesn't look good with that hair. And it's so... soft. I wonder what makes it spike up like that. Must be a Saiyan thing, 'cause the others have gravity defying hair like this, too, except for that boy, Trunks. Is that a coincidence, or is there something different about Trunks?

"What do you think you're doing?" Radditz asked curiously, opening one eye. Bulma nearly jumped out of her skin and bit back a yelp of surprise, startled out of her train of thought. She snatched her hands back as though she'd burned them, blushing furiously.

"I-I was just... just checking your wounds," she stammered, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"In my hair?" Radditz asked wryly, arching one eyebrow questioningly.

Bulma opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Damn it! Why can't I think of a good excuse! I'm supposed to be a genius, and I can't think of anything to say! Eyes darting wildly in search of something to distract Radditz from that line of questioning, she latched onto the form of Yamcha as he exited the house, a box with a red cross on it firmly in hand. "Oh, there's Yamcha!" she blurted out stupidly, jumping up and running over to her friend. "Stay right there until I have a chance to tend those injuries of yours." Smooth, Bulma, real smooth. He must think I'm a total idiot now. She grabbed the first aid kit from Yamcha with a quickly muttered thanks, then swiftly returned to Radditz's side, opening the kit and pulling out gauze and rubbing alcohol.

Eyeing her warily, Radditz tried to sit up, only to find Bulma's hands pushing him back down with all the strength she possessed. He raised his other eyebrow. Even injured as he was, he could easily overpower her if he wanted to. She must know that. So why bother trying to pin him? "You're not going anywhere until I've had a chance to clean those cuts," she snapped with all the force of her iron will behind her voice, making Radditz flinch involuntarily.

"There's no need for that," he muttered in annoyance. "I'm not really that hurt. If Vegeta-ouji had wanted to hurt me, I wouldn't be conscious right now, if not near death. As it is, I'll be fine with a little rest."

Bulma scowled and Radditz squirmed under her scrutiny. "Listen, buster, if those cuts don't get cleaned up, they might get an infection, and then no matter how much rest you got, you wouldn't get any better."

"Saiyans don't get sick," he growled. "Or infections, for that matter. Our immune systems are very aggressive."

In the background, Yamcha started grinning. You don't disagree with Bulma, Radditz, no matter how strong you are, he thought smugly. She always gets her way in the end. It's just a question of how unpleasant it is for you until she gets what she wants. Deciding he wanted to be as far away as possible should Bulma pull one of her famous tantrums, he want back inside the house to await breakfast.

True to Yamcha's silent predictions, Bulma's face darkened and her eyes narrowed. "You will let me clean those cuts, or you will regret it, Radditz," she pronounced in a voice deadly enough to make the bravest man quail in fear, never mind the fact that it came from the mouth of an eleven year old girl. "There's a first time for everything, and I'd rather that first time not be this time!" Radditz suddenly felt the urge to wriggle nervously under her glare.

"Do as she says, Radditz," Bardock's stern, commanding voice rang clearly through the air, drawing everyone's attention to the speaker. The tall warrior landed softly on the beach, Goku on his shoulders, and walked over to stand in front of his downed son. The obsidian chips that were his eyes drilled into Radditz in a way that brooked no argument. "Just because Saiyans don't get sick often doesn't mean we don't get sick, and I'd rather not have you laid low by some Chikyuu disease we've never heard of before." Bardock's eyes searched his son's face for any sign of rebellion, almost seeming to see into the teenager's very soul, then nodded once, satisfied, and turned his penetrating gaze on Bulma. He said nothing, but his look clearly told her that if she harmed his son in anyway, she would pay the consequences. Bulma nodded her understanding, a little paler than before, and he turned back toward the house, swinging Goku down off his shoulders before then walked through the door.

Dropping his head back to the ground in resignation, Radditz glared up at the sky while Bulma began rubbing alcohol onto the lacerations that crisscrossed his body, hissing between his teeth at the sting of the liquid seeping into the broken flesh. It was nothing like the soothing comfort that being submersed in a regen tank offered, something that he missed terribly at this point. He forced himself not to flinch as she began to bind the various injuries that covered his body, although he couldn't help the flush of humiliation that tinged his cheeks pink. I can't believe that I'm allowing myself to be tended to by this weakling chibi onna as though I were some kind of... of invalid! Or that I'm even showing my weakness for everyone to see. What a pitiful excuse for a Saiya-jin I am!

"Why?" he suddenly asked her, shifting his gaze from the infinite blue expanse to lock onto her equally blue eyes.

"What?" she asked, startled by the abruptness of the question. She stared into this black eyes, feeling as though she was about to fall into them. She blinked, momentarily breaking the spell he had cast on her.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked bluntly, his penetrating gaze boring holes into her soul.

Bulma was suddenly aware of her heart pounding in her chest, in her ears, even in her stomach! She couldn't stop looking into Radditz's eyes, couldn't think, couldn't breath. The only things she was aware of were his eyes and her heartbeat. Somewhere in the back of her mind where her thought processes were only slightly impaired, her mind was screaming at her to say something before she made a total fool out of herself. "I... I... uhh... well, you're... ummm... Goku's brother and all!" she finally managed to blurt out, feeling her cheeks burning hotly. Mentally cursing herself for an idiot, she finished wrapping the final bandage and hastily stuffed the remaining supplies back into the first aid kit. "Umm... breakfast should be ready! Why don't we... er... go eat?" With that said, she stood up and fled, leaving behind a very confused Radditz.

"What was that all about?" he asked out loud, staring at Bulma's retreating form. He gingerly sat up, being mindful of his injuries, and thought back on the past couple of minutes. Vegeta beats the crap out of me. I nearly lose consciousness. When I regain my senses, that little girl is messing with my hair. Then she insists on cleaning and binding my wounds, with my father backing her up. I ask her why she's so concerned about me, and I'm not certain I believe the answer she gave me.

Frowning to himself, he got to his feet and headed for the house, mulling the mystery over in his head. Why did she care about me? Why didn't she want to tell me the truth? And why were her cheeks red like that? It's almost as though she were... Whoa, wait a damn moment! She was notblushing! No! No way! Unfortunately, the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. She can't have feelings for me! She's, what, ten? Eleven years old? And besides which, we're not even the same species! How could she possibly be attracted to me?!

With these thoughts in mind, it was with no little apprehension that he walked into the house where Vegeta, Goku, Bardock, Krillen, Yamcha, Master Roshi... and Bulma... all waited in the kitchen for Lunch to serve breakfast. Now that he knew what to look for, Radditz plainly saw the rapturous looks the blue haired girl threw his way and recognized them for what they were. He thought that he should be flattered by her attention, but, really, it made him feel slightly sick. I am not a pervert who likes little girls! he wanted to shout at her. And last time I checked, I don't date outside my species. Hoping that maybe she would get a clue, he ignored her and edged to the far side of the room.

Bardock gave his son a once-over, examining him to make sure he was all right without appearing to show too much concern, then returned his attentions to Vegeta, who looked as though he had recently stepped out of the shower. Vegeta's gaze flickered to Radditz long enough to smirk at the older boy, then shifted back to watching Lunch set food on the table. "Woman, how long must I be kept waiting?" he growled petulantly.

"Well, we've got to wait until Trunks and Goten return," she answered simply. "It would be rude to start without them."

"I am the Prince of all Saiyans. I do not see why I must wait for two baka half-breed brats for any reason!" Even if one of them is my son, he added to himself.

Bulma's ears almost visibly perked up at the mention of Vegeta's words and she stopped eyeing Radditz in favor of giving Vegeta a scrutinizing look. "What do you mean, half-breed? I thought Trunks and Goten were Saiyans like you."

"Baka onna," Vegeta snorted. "Goten looks Saiyan enough, but how even someone as stupid as you could mistake Trunks for a full blooded Saiya-jin is beyond me!"

Narrowing her eyes dangerously, Bulma had a hard time deciding whether to pursue her line of questioning or rise to the prince's bait. She was already furious with the ten year old for beating Radditz up like that and implying he was weak, so insulting her was only adding fuel to the fire. However, when Trunks had explained their situation to her, he had not mentioned anything about him being half-breed. Half Saiyan, half what? The enigma was enough to catch the interest of Bulma's scientific side and she literally itched to know more. Finally deciding that she might not ever have another chance to fish for information again, whereas she would have plenty of opportunities to insult his royal pain in the ass, she pushed aside her ire for the moment and concentrated on what was important.

"So if they're half-breed Saiyans, what's the other half?"

Suddenly noticing where the conversation was heading, Bardock reached out and clamped a hand over his prince's mouth, scowling darkly at the boy to let him know not to answer that question. He turned his cool gaze back to Bulma and said, "I don't think we should answer that. Knowing too much about the future can be dangerous." Vegeta glared up at the older man and roughly pulled his head away from Bardock's hand. Unfortunately, Bardock was stronger than him, so there was nothing he could do about that affront to his pride except mutter darkly about training to become stronger and teaching Bardock that the Saiya-jin no Ouji was not someone to take lightly. Bardock ignored him.

Glaring at Bardock, Bulma placed her hands on her hips and drew herself up to her full height, which wasn't very much compared to Bardock. "What's so dangerous about knowing what race their parents are?" she queried, a definite edge to her voice.

A thoughtful look crossed Bardock's face as he stared down at the human girl. "Hypothetically, what if that race were human? And one of the parents was in this room? Or perhaps one of you knows one of the parents? Or might meet them later on? What would happen if that parent somehow found out they later on have a half-Saiyan child? Don't you think it might have an effect on the future?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly at Bulma. He knew that Goten's mother was someone named Chi-Chi, but he had no idea who Trunks's mother was. It really was quite possible that Bulma knew or will know Trunks's mother someday.

Eyeing him suspiciously, Bulma tried to figure out if he was being completely honest about this, or if he was really trying to just throw her off the trail. In the end, though, what he said made too much sense to be ignored. "I guess you're right," she sighed. "Though I still don't quite see how much harm it would be just knowing what race the other parent is. It's not like knowing their race will tell me who the parents are."

Bardock shrugged uncomfortably. She did have a point, but he really would rather not even go into the subject of who the parents were. Better to be safe than sorry, after all. Especially considering that he didn't think Vegeta knew what race his future mate was. Bardock had a fairly good idea that it was human, since Trunks was obviously raised on Earth, but since he couldn't be sure, it was best that he just keep his mouth shut for now.

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