A/N: I entered this fic in Gwendy's contest. I hope you guys enjoy
reading it, as much as I have writing it!
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She walked helplessly through the streets of Wou Dhan. The young woman with luxurious azure hair wandered along the dirty roads confoundedly lost. She had come from her home land, Kyoto, in search of her mother. She prayed with every ounce of her being that her mother was somewhere here in Wou Dhan and not dead, like her father pronounced her to be.
Wou Dhan was a far cry from the considerably large city of Kyoto.
When she had been a young girl, only ten, her mother had disappeared. Because of that, her father had become detached and cold towards her. Bulma yearned and ached for her father to look upon her like he had done many years ago when her mother was with them. It was said that she had represented her mother in every minuscule detail. So much to the part where she had diligently followed in her mother's career footsteps.
She had trained to be a healer.
Now at sixteen, she walked slowly along the cobbled road, hoping that her mother would magically appear. But as we all know, miracles do not occur every day.
With a heavy heart, she trudged through the back alley of a street. Bulma looked down at the tattered piece of cloth in her hand. The directions of her aunt's home had been strategically inscribed on the cloth in watery onyx ink. Bulma realized the writing was beginning to fade. She sighed in frustration as she stepped out into the sunlight, on the busy road. She had only been in Wou Dhan for a few hours and in that short amount of time she had learnt that not every one was as polite as they were in Kyoto. They all seemed to be cold and calculating, wary of strangers. It wasn't like that where she had lived.
Bulma looked up sadly at the blue sky which was adorned with small flecks of white clouds. At least it wasn't raining. She had realized that she had picked the wrong time to venture out of Kyoto, it was the monsoon season and no sane woman would dream of leaving the confines of their home, let alone the city.
She stopped by a vegetable stall, pulling up the heavy satchel uncomfortably from her shoulder. She looked at the young boy behind the sea of vegetables.
"Excuse me," she called out softly to the young man. He seemed like a friendly person, but things are not always what they seem. In truth, she didn't know if she could trust him.
The young man, who was at least seventeen looked up from counting the yen in his hands. His eyes widened as he observed the beautiful young woman before him. Everything about her was unusual. Her hair, strangely azure and eyes as blue as the sky. He became instantly mesmerized by the mysterious woman before him. "Yes?" He managed to choke out.
Bulma had to smile. She always had this affect on men, ever since she had turned fifteen and had grown into the beautiful young woman that she was today. She noticed that this man was incredibly handsome, compared to the other ruffians she had seen in Wou Dhan. He was the first person to actually reply to her plea of help and for this she was indebted. "Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help me." The words rolled of her tongue like glass beads. She was extremely cocky for a sixteen year old.
The young man tried to gather his verbal skills, who was this angel standing before him? He had to find out, "I would be happy to help you, Ms-?"
She radiated a brilliant smile at him, "You may call be Bulma."
"My name is Yamcha, it is a pleasure to be in your company Bulma." He tried not gawk at her.
Bulma couldn't help but laugh. No one had ever behaved so mannerly in her company, it was quite befitting. "Could you please tell me where I may find this place?" She handed him the tattered piece of cloth.
Yamcha looked down, frowning at the words written in Japanese on the cloth.
'Mameha Chiyo, Vejita-han M.A School, Jade Forest, Wou Dhan.'
Bulma saw the frowning expression on his face and took it as if he had no knowledge of the place. She outstretched her hand to retrieve the piece of cloth. "Forgive me. I'm terribly sorry to have troubled you."
"One minute." Yamcha stared intensely at the piece of paper. How did she know about the prestigious fighting school in Wou Dhan? His eyes grew large, could this woman be a fighter?
He looked at her briefly. No, she did not seem like a fighter and besides, the 'Vejita-han Martial Arts School' was known for forbidding women to partake in any form of fighting.
"Actually, I do know where the School is. If I may not be rude, may I ask what business you have there?" Everyone knew that the school was renowned for its brutality in training, he feared slightly for his new found friend.
Bulma was taken aback by the question. Her temper flared slightly at the young man's nosy intention. She had also been know as hot-tempered, like her mother, back in Kyoto. "My aunt is a healer in the school, if you must know." She snapped.
Yamcha's face fell slightly at being so harshly spoken to. He had never been spoken back to, by a woman no less. Bittersweet memories of his time in Vejita-han School entered his mind. His jaw twitched as he remembered how they had ordered him to leave the school, for being too 'weak'.
The azure-haired woman winced as she realized she had let her temper get the best of her once again. Her voice returned to its soft octave. "I beg your pardon. I did not mean to seem rude. It's just that it had been such a long day and I am feeling quite tired from my journey. I just need to reach the School before nightfall."
Bulma tilted her head, hoping he would accept her apology. He was adorable, for a man, like one of the many small pups running about the streets of Japan.
His eyes brightened at her apology, "It's quite alright. In fact, you need not look further. The Master of the school comes here every day to buy my famous vegetables." He began to gloat, "All the fighters' in Vejita-han have very large appetites."
Bulma laughed as he suddenly came to life and grew animated. "Do they?"
He nodded vigorously, "Yeah! You should see what they buy, every day I run out of stock because of them." His true personality was beginning to show.
He was very sweet, Bulma mused. "So, what you're saying is that, he will come here soon?"
"Yes!" He cried enthusiastically.
"Do you know how long I would have to be here before he turned up?"
"He shall arrive before dusk. That is when they start to prepare the food. He always likes his vegetables fresh."
"You seem to know a lot about the school," Bulma contemplated.
A blush rose up his cheeks, "Everyone knows about the school. It's a very prestigious school to enter."
Bulma frowned, "So why did no one help me when I asked for directions!"
"Well," he looked at her bashfully, "You are a stranger to Wou Dhan, that's why. Many people here are suspicious of things they do not know. This is a small town after all."
"Well that's just stupid!" She huffed.
"Move, girl!" A gruff voice from behind her called out.
Bulma flushed in embarrassment, she moved aside from the sea of vegetables and looked pleadingly at her new companion. "Would you mind if I stood there with you? I think I'm getting in the way of everyone who is trying to buy your vegetables." She laughed slightly.
Yamcha beamed back at her, "Sure," he lifted the wooden partition to let her through.
Bulma ducked and swiftly stepped in. She smiled gratefully, "Thanks. For everything."
He blushed again, and she laughed.
For the next few hours she had the most enjoyable time she had ever spent with another being.
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After a few hours of conversing, Bulma smiled compassionately at her new friend. They had laughed and joked, as if they had known each other their entire lives. She had never felt so comfortable with anyone in her life.
If she didn't know any better, she felt as though she were falling for him.
But the happiness was short lived as a tall, graying man approached the vegetable stock. He was extremely handsome for his age. With hair that was upswept unusually in a flame-like shape and a bushy mustache that was considerably gray. Bulma wondered why his countenance seemed slightly grumpy
The man regarded Yamcha coldly, "The usual boy." The Master of Vejita-han School demanded. He regarded the unusual coloured woman standing beside his former pupil. Why did she seem familiar to him?
Yamcha bowed and complied to the older man's request. "Right away Vejita- san."
Bulma raised her eyebrow at the exchange. Hadn't Yamcha said that this man was kind? She saw Yamcha's urging look and cleared her throat as she spoke to the older man. "Excuse me, sir."
Vejita regarded her in amusement, "What is it, girl?"
"I was wondering, does a woman named Mameha Chiyo live at your Martial Arts School?" Something flickered in the older man's eyes.
"Who wants to know?" He asked gruffly.
"I do. My name is Bulma, I am Mameha-san's niece.." She trailed off as the man stared at her openly and chuckled.
Master Vejita chuckled wryly, "Yes I see the resemblance now. What are you doing behind there?"
"Oh, well, the young man Yamcha told me you would come here to buy vegetables before dusk. So I waited here with him, for you."
He quirked his eyebrow, "Indeed. Very well, come along child. Who am I to stop you from meeting with your aunt."
Bulma was now entirely confused. He had been so cold towards her before he had know who she was. Were all people in Wou Dhan like this? Just then Yamcha returned with the paper bags of vegetables.
Master Vejita regarded her silently for a moment. "Well don't just stand there girl, help me with these groceries."
Bulma complied, now utterly lost as to why he was being so friendly. But she soon recovered as she waved good-bye to Yamcha. She had promised him that she would return to visit him when the time was not so umcompliable. Now she silently walked beside the old Master, secretly wondering why he came to pick up groceries, if he was rich enough to have people obtain them for him.
She gave up on such petty thoughts and concentrated on not tripping as she carried the heavy bag. She was only holding one, but the older male was holding four. Were all trainees at the school as fiercely strong and large as the man that walked beside her?
She was afraid to find out.
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Bulma inhaled for air, trying not to gag at the same time. They had been walking for almost two hours, and at an extremely fast pace. Were all fighters this physically fit? If she was honest, she had always been interested in the fighting aspect of her job. She secretly wondered how they maintained such a demanding schedule.
She had seen many injuries obtained from battle in the first year of her job, and she was clearly intrigued by it all. She had always felt the need for power, and fighting gave you that. But she knew that nothing would amount from her secret desire, all she would have done was given her father more grief and that was something she never wanted to give him.
Her father had been the one to mention his sister in-law. Bulma had been grateful for the information and so the very same week she had left for Wou Dhan.
She noticed that Master Vejita had stopped. She looked about her surrounding and gasped in delight. They had entered a forest, a jade forest to be exact. Bulma had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. Just in the distance she could see fairly large huts, all surrounded by leaves of jade. Her chest heaved up and down, why had she become so short of breath so suddenly? Was she that unfit?
Master Vejita noticed the lack of oxygen reaching the younger girl, he smiled secretly and as if reading her thoughts, he spoke. "We have been walking up hill."
Bulma looked up at the larger man in surprise. Had they? If they had, she had not noticed.
"We are halfway up on Jade Land. What you are witnessing before you is called Jade Forest. This is where my school is situated. If you go further up into the forest, the forest abruptly stops and a cliff is present. To the right of the huts is a lake, with a spacious opening. I sometimes train my students there, it is a very peaceful place."
"Why so high up on a hill, no less?"
He shrugged, "The lack of oxygen up here contributes to my students' training. They become stronger that way." He began walking towards one of the large huts. In total there were six of them, some larger than the others but mostly they were alike, all placed strategically in a crescent shape.
Bulma followed him, trying to keep up. He entered the hut, before calling her in. Bulma bit her lip as she stepped across the threshold. She gasped as she saw the interior, which was exquisitely yet modestly decorated. Many fine tapestries were adorned around the large hut and Bulma could see more rooms being branched off from the current room they were standing in. She never knew that fighters could need so much luxury in their life? Wasn't just fighting enough?
Master Vejita began diligently lighting candles all around the room. He smirked as he saw Bulma's expression, "Just because we live in huts and fight, does not mean we live like savages."
"I didn't say anything." She said, confused.
He chuckled, "You did not have to, I could see it on your face."
Bulma placed the paper bag on the large oak table that was placed in the corner of the room. She remained silent, waiting for the Master to speak.
"My son should be returning from his training any moment now."
Bulma looked at him, shocked. "You have a son?"
He laughed, "Is it so unbelievable?"
Bulma shook her head, "No-"
"I think he is about your age.. No, perhaps a few years older than you. How old are you girl?"
"Sixteen."
He nodded, "That is about right. My son is two years older than you." A strange glint formed in his eyes.
Bulma's brow furrowed, what had that got to with her and her aunt? "I don't mean to be rude, sire, but could you direct me to my aunt. I would be ever so grateful."
He snorted, "Children. Always impatient. Very well, come with me." He walked out of the large door towards another large hut that was placed at the end of the other five. He spoke as he walked, "Each hut can house fifteen people. One is mine and my son's, the other three are living quarters."
He motioned to the middle hut, "That is the fighting arena, women are forbidden in there, my son is currently training in there with another student, the rest of the pupils are away on a spiritual mission." His eyes gleamed in amusement.
"Your aunt is a healer and so lives in the medical ward of my school, with four other healers." He looked down at her, something in his eyes softening, "Yes, you resemble her greatly.." A wistful look crossed his face, before it was wiped clean. He stopped in front of the last hut.
"Are you ready to meet with your aunt, girl?" He asked somewhat darkly.
Bulma looked fearfully at the door, this was what she had come here for, right? "Yes," she said softly.
The Master chuckled and knocked on the door.
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Vegeta back-flipped away from his opponent. His chest heaved up and down, a thin film of sweat gleaming in the last rays of sunlight that entered the training arena. He flew back to his opponent, a familiar smirk gracing his dark features.
"Come one, Kakarott!" He said between breaths. He loved a good fight and his only friend was a worthy opponent. He constantly reminded himself that he should tell his father not to have the school situated so damn high. The lack of oxygen was not good for you, no matter what he said.
Kakarott grinned childishly at his life long friend. He took one final swing but came crashing down as his friend's knee became lodged in his gut. He grunted and doubled over in pain. "You dog!" He gasped.
Vegeta grinned devilishly at the still form of his friend on the training mat. "Get up you weakling!" He taunted. It always made him happy to see his strong friend behave so weak in his presence. Vegeta always prided himself on his strength. For some strange reason, he had always felt that he had something to prove to his father. That he would become a true warrior.
And avenge his mother's death, he thought darkly. It was funny how his mother's death always seemed to form like a mist in his mind when he was fighting, and distract him from his goal. He did not know what had happened that cold night so long ago, the night his mother had died in the arms of his father.
All he remembered was that she had been covered in blood and that Vegeta and his father had gone in search of her that rainy night. Sure enough, they had found her lying in a pool of blood in the Jade Forest. Her clothing torn and tattered, a deep gash in the side of her stomach. They had later found out that bandits had been on the loose in the capital of Wou Dhan and were hiding out in Jade Forest. If only they hadn't let her out during the night! Then she would still be with them, coddling him as if he were a child.
Vegeta closed his eyes as he stood perfectly still in the middle of the training arena, reliving the heart wrenching memories. Eight years on and he still could not forget her broken form. His heart secretly ached to be held by his mother, if only for one last time. He was never the ideal son, always causing mischief and always getting into fights, but he knew that she had loved him and that was enough for his heart to turn to stone the day she died.
If he was honest, that was the day that he had closed up his emotions. He had bottled them all up, and mentally threw the bottle away. When he saw his mother dying in his father's arms, it had been the last straw for him. He saw his father's soul as if it had been torn apart and cast into the wind, when his mother died. And so Vegeta promised himself never to give his heart to another.
It would only cause more heartache, wouldn't it?
"What's the matter? Is the mighty warrior tired?" A mockingly sympathetic voice rang out in the empty arena.
Vegeta's eyes snapped opened. He growled in annoyance at the intruder. He turned to face the entrance way of the arena. "What do you want, Niko?" He glared at his long time rival. They had always been competing to be the best student and warrior to graduate from the school.
Vegeta smirked, he new that the school would belong to him once his father came of age. It was only a matter of time.
Niko snarled at the smirking face of his rival. "What's the matter, Vegeta? Thinking about your poor mother? How pathetic, you couldn't even save her." He hated Vegeta, and he wanted him to feel it. Everyone had known about the tragic death but no one had dared to voice the actual event. This was Niko's big mistake as he baited Vegeta.
Vegeta's eyes glinted evilly. Reaching behind him he pulled out his thin bladed sword from its ornate leather casing. The blade glinted in the final rays on sunlight that poured through the large windows. "Say that again," he dared. His voice was laced with hate and anger.
Kakarott had been watching the exchange quietly from the floor. Now he stood up and placed his hand softly on his friend's shoulder. "Vegeta, let it go."
Vegeta shrugged off his hand, "Shut up Kakarott! This had nothing to do with you. This is between me and him." He glared at Niko, still taunting him.
Niko pulled out his own sword and lunged at the experienced fighter.
Kakarott watched helplessly. He knew the outcome would not be good.
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Mameha smiled as she stroked her niece's silky azure hair. She sighed, "I'm so happy you are here Bulma.." The two sat in Mameha's private chambers in the medical ward. The reason why the room was in the ward was simple, it was because Mameha was a healer and her job demanded dedication. She was in charge of the other four healers as well.
Bulma exhaled in relief, like a child she rested her head on her aunt's lap. "I've missed you Aunt Mameha. Why did you leave Kyoto?"
The older woman chuckled, "Everyone needs a change. Why did you come here?" She retaliated.
Bulma laughed, "I see you're point." She smiled up sleepily at her beloved aunt. "Thank you." She added.
"For what?"
"If it weren't for you, Master Vejita would have never allowed me to work as a healer in his school."
Mameha smiled, "You're quite welcome. Anything for my precious niece." She looked down worriedly, "Any news of your mother?" She asked softly.
Bulma shook her head regretfully, "No. Like a fool, I thought she might have come here to Wou Dhan, to see you..."
"Well, as you can see, she is not here." She smiled sadly, "She'll turn up.."
Bulma felt a tear run down her temple, "I hope so." She laughed bitterly, "Father thinks she is dead. Maybe he is right."
"Hush now child! Do not say such things." She continually stroked the young woman's hair.
Bulma felt herself being lulled into a deep sleep..
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Master Vejita looked up from his book as he heard perpetual crashes coming from the training arena. His son and friend sounded as though they were partaking in a battle of some sort. Letting curiosity take over, he made his way leisurely to the arena.
*****
Master Vejita was shocked at what he saw in the arena. The slick wooden floors were partly covered in blood. The two fighters stood on opposite ends of the arena, glaring at each other. Vegeta was clutching his arm, as he held his sword out in front of him. A shallow cut had been diagonally slashed across his chest and another on his cheek. Another of his students, Niko, stood with numerous cuts and bruises, panting heavily. Kakarott looked at his master in earnest.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" He bellowed. His voice echoed around the bare room, causing the two fighters to look up from their arduous battle.
Vegeta looked at his father. Damn. He sent another death glare to his rival.
Niko was about to lunge towards Vegeta again, before Vegeta's father intercepted and chopped the back of his neck, rendering him unconscious.
"You should have let him. The fool has a death wish," Vegeta spat.
Master Vejita looked at his son in disappointment, he was always causing trouble. "Can't you stay out of your petty rivalries for one night?" He demanded gruffly. "You could have killed him."
"Good," Vegeta snarled. "He had it coming."
Master Vejita rolled his eyes in disgust. "Have you not learned anything from my teachings?"
Vegeta smirked, "Only how to fight."
Master Vejita saighed sadly, "Then you shall truly lose Vegeta, you shall truly lose." He spoke cryptically. He looked at Kakarott. "And you! You could have stopped this, but you remained on the sidelines."
Kakarott bowed, "Forgive me Master. But as your teachings say, a fighter must not interrupt in another man's battles. It is forbidden."
"At least one of you is learning something," he grumbled, glaring at his son. "Take yourself to Mameha. She will fix you." He turned back to his other pupil, "Kakarott, take Niko back to his quarters. He does not need any medical attention."
Kakarrot bowed and complied.
Vegeta breathed something into his friend's ear, "Teacher's pet," he muttered.
Kakarott held back a smirk as he picked up the still body of Niko and began making his journey to their living quarters.
Vegeta glanced at his father for a moment. An unfamiliar emotion flashing across his eyes. He threw Niko's sword down on the floor before his feet, still with a hue of blood gracing its sharp tip. The thin sword clanked heavily on the ground. He placed his own sword back into its intricate casing, behind his back. As Niko's sword rattled against the wood floor, Vegeta turned and made his way to the medical bay.
Vegeta's father stood alone in the arena, staring at the thrown sword. He crouched down on the floor beside it and picked it up in his firm grip. He looked at the precise detail on the sword and sighed. He could never understand the way his son thought. They were alike and different in so many ways.
Looking at the door sadly, he spoke to no one in particular. "What am I going to do with you Vegeta? What am I going to do.."
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Bulma woke up abruptly as her aunt's lap jerked. "What is it?" She asked fearfully.
Mameha put her index finger to her lips, "Shh, someone is in the medical bay."
Bulma sat up from her comfortable position. She looked out of the window, nightfall had already descended upon Wou Dhan. She looked at her aunt walking out of the door. Scrambling out of the bed, she followed. "I'm coming with you." She whispered.
Mameha walked into the medical room and sighed in relief as she saw the back of Vejita-san's son. "Vegeta, what are you doing in here?" She asked quietly.
Bulma stood closely beside her aunt, mesmerized by the rippling muscle in the stranger's back. She looked intently at the long sword casing that was draped across his back. She frowned, had he aunt just called him Vejita?
Vegeta rolled his eyes as he looked down at the loose bandage on his wrist. He was finding it much difficult then he would have bargained for. Some things were best left to the professionals. He slowly turned around as he heard Mameha's voice. As he turned around he caught sight of an azure- haired young woman standing beside Mameha. They resembled each other, but the younger woman's beauty was in a league of its own. He froze, not being able to tear his eyes away from her pretty features.
"I was training too hard," he spoke softly as he stared at the young woman. "I didn't want to disturb you."
Mameha chuckled, "You know it's my job Vegeta."
Vegeta simply grunted, not taking his eyes off of the beauty. He smirked inwardly as she looked away, her cheeks graced with a raging blush.
Bulma blushed intensely and looked at the floor. She could still feel his piercing gaze upon her petite form.
Mameha held back a smile as she observed the interaction between the young couple. She cleared her throat, "Bulma, this is Master Vejita's son, Vegeta. Vegeta, this is my niece, Bulma."
Bulma looked up for a split second, finding herself being pulled into his obsidian eyes. Her eyes traveled down to his bare chest, gleaming with a mixture of sweat and dried blood. Was this the result of being a fighter in the school? She tore her eyes away and resumed looking at the floor. "Nice to meet you," she mumbled.
Vegeta smirked at Mameha and raised his eyebrow at her, "Pleasure." He said somewhat sarcastically.
"Well now that the introductions are over, Bulma would you like to tend to his wounds?"
"She's a healer?" He asked Mameha incredulously.
Bulma looked at her aunt pleadingly, "No really, I'm still very inexperienced."
"Nonsense!" Mameha cried. "If you're going to do this for a profession, you might as well start getting experience. Everything that you will need is on the counter, I trust that you will look after the Master's son. I shall be in my room if there is a problem." She made a hasty exit. She giggled like a teenager as she made her way back to the room. She loved to play matchmaker, and those two made an incredibly cute pair. She just hoped that Bulma's charms would be enough to win over Vegeta's cold persona.
*****
Vegeta stood awkwardly against the counter. The silence between the two was deafening.
Bulma took a deep breath. She was not going to let his cold countenance scare her away. She had gotten the feeling that he wasn't a very sociable. "Ok, let's get this over with." She muttered.
Vegeta raised his eyebrow. "Very well." He said gruffly. He walked towards the high bed that was on the opposite side of the room and sat down softly.
Bulma turned her back to him and began placing all kinds of different lotions on a small round tray. She grabbed the roll of bandages and made her way to the seated patient. Avoiding his gaze, she took his wrist and began unraveling the poorly wrapped bandage, of his own concoction. Bulma stood slightly further away than needed, causing her to struggle. Her mother had always told her to be cautious of handsome men.
Vegeta stared at the side of her face, drinking in the fresh smooth creamy skin that God had graced her with. He took in every detail about her features, from her dainty nose to her rosy cheeks. To the fine silky presence of her azure hair. He yearned to look deeply into the cerulean eyes that had just glanced at him briefly. He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? He sounded like a pathetic sap, just like his friend Kakarott.
He remembered the promise he had made eight years ago.
He kept repeating it in his mind like a mantra.
"Can you please stop moving!" She snapped. Her mood had soured considerably, ever since her aunt had left her alone in the room with a perfect stranger.
Vegeta snapped out of his trance, not realizing he had been moving. He narrowed his eyes at her blazing face. "Watch what you say and who you are saying it to, girl."
Bulma couldn't stand his cocky manner, "Well then I guess I shouldn't worry about you!" She spoke back. She didn't know what it was, but he just made her so angry! And that was not good for her short temper.
Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle wryly. This small woman was telling him what to do? A large fighter who could snap her neck at any time, it was positively hilarious. True, he was small compared to the other fighters, but he was much larger than her.
Bulma furiously dipped cotton wool into the burning liquid. She yanked his wrist up.
Vegeta growled, she was purposely causing him pain. "Watch it!" It was his turn to snap.
Bulma took in deep breaths, calming her wild temper. "Sorry," she said softly. "It's just my aunt can be such a busy body sometimes!" She gently wiped the piece of cotton wool on the cut in his wrist.
Vegeta flinched slightly at this. He was totally surprised by her sudden mood swing. What was she, a walking hormone bag? He merely snorted in reply as he continued to watch her work expertly on his cuts and bruises.
She gently wrapped a bandage around the cut wrist, as tightly as his limit of pain would allow, which was extremely high in his case. "If you had been cut any further, you would have bled to death." She commented, somewhat lightly.
"Nothing can hurt me," he spoke supremely.
Bulma looked at him strangely for a moment, before examining the cut the was slashed across his chest. She curiously reached out to touch it but her hand snapped back as she heard him inhale sharply. "Sorry," she muttered. Taking a cloth, she poured more healing ointment onto its soft fabric and leaned down to gently dab the harsh slash.
Vegeta leaned back slightly, uncomfortable with the closeness of the young woman. He looked down as she gently tended to his wound, something in his heart began to stir. He could see the fire and passion burning in her eyes, it reminded him so much of his own self that it was frightening. Closing his eyes, he inhaled softly taking parts of her delicate scent into his nasal cavity. Unaware of his actions, he growled. What the hell was she doing to him? He tried to push away the impure thoughts that had just flashed through his mind.
Unable to stop himself, he had to ask. "How old are you?" He breathed softly into the top of her head.
Bulma was completely oblivious to the change in his manner, "I'm sixteen. I'll be turning seventeen soon." She didn't know why she had added the last part. "How old are you?" She looked up inquisitively into his eyes as she skillfully wrapped the bandage diagonally around his chest, once again taking no heed of his shallow breathing.
Vegeta held back a smirk. They were very close in age. "Eighteen." He saw her stiffen slightly, and was confused by the change in her demeanor.
"Right," she said uncomfortably. "H-how did you get hurt?"
Vegeta's brow furrowed, "You seem smart enough, must you ask?"
"Hey, I was just being polite!" She now looked at the large bruise on his forehead. She began dabbing more healing oils onto the cloth, once again cleaning off the wound.
"If you must know, it was during a duel with a rival." He sneered as his thoughts returned to Niko. He would get the fool later. He would have killed him there and then had it not been for his father's interruption.
"Do you always get yourself into those predicaments?" She asked playfully.
Vegeta felt as if he had been stung. This was certainly a change for the young woman. "Yes, I always seem to do," he mused drily.
"You should be more careful," she joked as she began wrapping the bandage around his forehead. She had to stand up on her tip toes to reach his forehead, as he was perched on the high bed, causing him to be further away than she had bargained for.
He sensed something in him awaken, as if it had been slumbering for the past eight years. He didn't know what it was, but he realized it couldn't lead to anything good.
Bulma looked at the final cut on his cheek. She firmly placed the oil covered cotton wool against his cheek.
"Watch it!" He hissed as it stung to the high heavens.
"Calm down!" She retorted. "I thought you were supposed to be a warrior." A hint of teasing in her tone.
He snarled at the comment, "What are you implying?" How could this woman have him totally hypnotized one moment and the next he felt like crushing her prim and proper skull? He shook himself out of the reverie.
"Nothing!" She said gaily and laughed at his murderous glare. "Relax, I was only joking."
Vegeta calmed down visibly. She was such an odd person, he thought secretly. He watched slightly cross-eyed as she placed the plaster on his cheek, cupping his face gently. She paused momentarily as she looked up into his eyes, which were searching her own.
Vegeta looked down into the startling blue eyes. He had never seen anyone in Wou Dhan with blue coloured eyes. "Your eyes.." He breathed. He felt something take over his mind, as if thinking for him and acting for him.
Bulma felt her heart thud in her chest. She swallowed, trying to create some sort of moisture in her dry throat as she gazed up into his dark obsidian eyes. Her cheeks were graced with their normal hazy rose when she was either embarrassed or excited. She didn't know if this time she was both embarrassed and excited at the same time. She had never been with a man before, of course she had with a boy of her own age, but never a man who was older than her. This scared her somewhat.
"What about my eyes..?" She whispered hoarsely.
Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "They remind me of a lake in Jade Forest." He murmured back. He had gone to that lake many times with his mother, but he hadn't been there since.. Since she had died. He tried to push away the morbid thoughts and concentrate on the small female that was cupping his cheek. In one swift move, he brought her up into his lap.
Bulma gasped, her breathing becoming construed. She grew mildly afraid of what he was doing. But he didn't do anything. He just stared deeply into her cerulean eyes, as if under a spell. Bulma sat comfortably in his lap, her eyes darting back and forth wildly. Her reasonable conscience screamed at her, to push him away, to run out of his comfortable embrace and back into the safety of Kyoto and all that she held dear to her. Every fiber of her being caught on fire as his hands trailed up the large sleeves of her kimono, rubbing her ever present goose pimples lightly, causing them to strain against her skin.
Vegeta brought his lips down to capture hers in a heated kiss. He just couldn't help himself, even though every signal from his brain cells to his nerves notified him to push her away. It was unbelievable what hormones could make one do, and Vegeta's were crackling maniacally around his aura.
She tilted her head back into a more comfortable position. Placing her hand on the back of his neck, she found herself kissing back more urgently than needed. She moaned pleasurably as his lips caressed her own, causing a shiver to travel up her spine.
After a few more moments of exploring, she began to pull back in fear. What the hell was she doing? She couldn't do this with a perfect stranger. Her subconscious argued with her, of course she could do this! Who knows, something good might even come out of it. She shook her head, looking at his frowning face in sorrow.
"I'm sorry, I-I can't do this..." She quickly extracted herself from his arms and back away slowly for him, running out of the door. Her feet didn't pound against the floor, for fear of disturbing people. She swiftly made her way out of the hut and ran through the Jade Forest, not running to a particular place instead, letting her instincts take over. As if she hadn't already gotten herself into enough trouble by letting her instincts take over.
Vegeta stared at the wide berth of the doorway, now empty and free of Bulma's presence. One minute he had been in pure ecstasy and the next, he was alone with his loins set on fire, left to die out on their own. He growled at the apparent occasion, if there was one thing that he could not stand, it was being left alone with his morbid thoughts. He did not take well to rejection, either.
Still bandaged, he jumped down from the bed and silently followed her out, wanting to demand an explanation for her actions.
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That was when she had felt them. The tears cascaded down her cheeks as she ran. She had been here to find her mother, dammit! Not fornicating with the nearest handsome man she came across. But if that was the case then why hadn't she accepted Yamcha's advances? She shook her head and looked to the twinkling stars above.
The tears streaming down her face, she screamed at the heavens above. "Why? Where is my Mother, you smart-ass fucker!" She began continuing her assault on the shining stars above. She ran to opening in the forest, finding herself standing in front of a still lake. Not one ripple was uttered across the film of water. Upon seeing the calmness, she snapped. It was like something that had been bottled up inside of her for six years had finally come cascading out of her. And one even had caused this chain reaction.
A simple kiss.
She screamed out again and again, "I HATE YOU." The three words were repeated, until she found that she could no longer scream. She fell on her knees, sobbing with the extremity of her outburst. Why her? Why did she have to be so alone? Her mother was lost to all who knew her, her father couldn't give a damn about her safety and her beauty was more like a curse than a gift. She collapsed sideways onto the rock beside her and sobbed, sobbed for the last six years of her life she had lost. For never once since her mother had left, had she cried. She had never truly cried her heart out, but now that all came pouring out.
Vegeta stood absolutely still, transfixed by the screaming visage before him. Had she lost her mother to an unknown force too? He followed her to the lake, the lake where he and his mother had passed many lazy hours. He stopped a few feet away as she collapsed sobbing, against the large rock. Something in his stone heart cracked as he witnessed her sobbing escapade. He had never seen anyone cry as much as this, save for his father when he held his dying wife in his arms. Vegeta had always been disgusted by the thought of tears, when he saw his father crying it had been as if realization slapped him in the face. His father looked truly weak, and Vegeta did not want to be like that.
But now as he saw this small young woman crying over the loss of something they shared in common, his cold resolve had cracked, if only slightly. He had followed her, determined to make her answer for the abrupt change in behavior and why she had rejected him.
As he saw her cry, he knew he couldn't do anything to make her upset. At some point during the evening, he had come to respect the small female. Now as he saw her slumped and heart broken, he truly did not know what to do. Hesitating slightly, he walked to her slumped form.
Crouching down beside her, he scooped her into his lap as he had previously.
Bulma gasped as she found herself being lifted and placed in strong muscled arms. She looked up through her tears to see Vegeta scowling down at her. "W-what..?" She was confused as to how he had shown up.
"Quiet woman." He gently wiped her tears, "You cry too much. It is not fitting for a fighting spirit like yours."
"I haven't cried like that before not since.. Since before my mother disappeared.." She sat numbly in his arms and looked out at the still lake.
Vegeta placed his back against the rock and looked in the same direction. "What caused you to shed your tears today?"
She tilted her head, looking at the reflection of stars in the lake. "Everything.." She mumbled. "I guess I was just waiting to explode." She added with a wry sense of humor.
He grunted into the top of her head. "Crying is for weaklings," he spoke wisely. "You are not weak. No more tears."
Bulma wiped her cheeks free of the unforgivable tears, she sniffed. "Why did you follow me?" She whispered.
He looked down in mild surprise. "I don't take well to rejection." He said sourly.
Bulma had to let a smile shine through her morbid features. "Well, then we're in the same boat I reckon."
Vegeta smirked, he thought about the loss of his own mother and hers. "You have no idea.."
She looked deeply into his eyes, somehow getting the feeling that there was an underlying message in his words.
Vegeta looked back with equal intensity. He found the blue eyes pulling him in once again, it was as if they had a permanent magnet implanted in them set on making his stomach churn with unwanted emotions. He leaned his face down to her own sweet angelic face, and for once allowed his emotions to rule his actions.
As he kissed her softly once again, he comprehended a strange thought. He didn't love her, no, for what person could fall in love with another in one night of being in each other's company? No he wasn't in love her, but he did acknowledge that he needed her and who knew, maybe his need would turn into love one day? He prayed to Kami that he would not fall in love, for that would in itself go against his principles and repelled him to no end.
But for now, he just needed her.
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The next few months went by in a hazy ignorant bliss by the couple. Neither of them knew it, but they were slowly falling in love with each other. Because Vegeta didn't acknowledge the new found feeling as love, he was content in his own world along with Bulma who was only there to add some excitement. Well, that is the thought he reasoned his actions with.
In the coming months, Bulma found herself growing further and further attached to Jade Forest, in Wou Dhan. So far, she had heard no word of her mother and had entirely given up. But she did not wish to leave Wou Dhan and return to Kyoto with her developed skills of healing. So she remained with Vegeta and stayed in Wou Dhan.
Their meetings were kept from all, although they were constant and almost nightly visits from Vegeta himself. She too was unaware that she was falling for the handsome young warrior. During the day, they pretended to hate each other, each insulting the other. But when night came, their entire persona's changed. They were clue less to the new emotions they were feeling.
Bulma had befriended many of the trainee warriors, young and old that trained in the prestigious school. She had also grown close to Vegeta's father, which was an added bonus. She couldn't have been happier, she even dismissed her mother from her thoughts.
For once, she was content with her life.
But as we all know, some good things just never last.
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It was the day of her birthday when it had happened.
Bulma skipped along the corridor of her aunt's living quarters, she had woken up in a considerably good mood that day. Nothing could ruin her special day. She was intent on spending the day with Vegeta, regardless of whether or not he was training. He was after all indebted to her. She stopped her happy escapade as she realized that there was something strangely unfamiliar about the eerie quiet halls that were usually full of hustle and bustle.
Bulma stopped walking completely. She frowned, why was everything so quiet? A crashing sounds from the outside was brought to her attention. With a frown, she ran out of the large hut and looked around the area surrounding the hut. Her eyes widened as warriors began running in and out of their huts, gathering their possessions. She cried out in surprise as she was almost knocked over.
"Forgive me Bulma-san." Kakarott said rather breathlessly, catching her before she fell.
"What's going on?" She demanded.
"War Bulma-san. Our first war!" He exclaimed in an excited manner.
"What?" She cried out, once again almost being knocked over.
"Emperor Qin has demanded all warriors to report to his Royal army. We're going into battle with the Hans."
"But I thought they settled the Han matter?" Her features clearly showed confusion.
"So did Emperor Qin." Kakarott looked up as warriors began running in the direction of the exit from Jade Forest. He looked back at Bulma with a melancholy air. "Forgive me Bulma-san, but I have to go." He ran from her side, carrying some possessions. He turned back for a moment before calling back, "See you soon Bulma-san!" With a wave he ran out of view.
Her breathing became uneven. Her eyes grew large. If every warrior had been summoned then, did that mean that Ve-? She didn't let the thought finish as she ran to Vegeta's hut. She pounded on the door forcefully, holding back her tears.
Master Vejita opened the door, he too was carrying a few necessity possessions. "Bulma!"
"Master, what is going on? Are all the warriors to go?"
He looked at her regretfully, "I'm afraid so, my child." He shook his head. "Emperer chin has really gone and done it this time."
"That means-"
"Yes, Vejita-han School will have to be shut down until the war is over."
Bulma's face fell. She felt Vegeta's father place his hand on her cheek. "Do not fear for us. We shall return triumphant."
"Is Vegeta-"
"Yes," he said growing impatient as he looked over head. "Go to him, he is gathering his armor." With that said, he lightly kissed the top of her head and bid her farewell.
Bulma rushed inside the large hut, which should rightly be called a cottage or even house. She ran directly towards Vegeta's room. Running in, she slammed the door behind her, blocking off his only exit.
Vegeta turned around, shock evident.
Bulma looked at him, holding back her tears. "You're not going." She said stubbornly.
Vegeta sighed, he knew this had been coming. "It is what I do.."
She shook her head, as if in denial. "No! I'm not going to lose another person I care about," her voice quivered.
Slinging the satchel across his shoulder he walked up to her, as she pressed her back against the door. "Let me pass," he growled lightly.
"I-I can't.." She wavered slightly, seeing the furious look on his face.
Vegeta's expression softened mildly as he saw her fear. Fear of him, and for his life. Leaning down, he kissed her lightly. "I shall return to you. You know that. Or have you such little faith in my abilities?"
That question made her think. "It's not that... I'm afraid that if I let you go, you will never return. Vegeta please," tears welled up in her eyes. The same tears she had tried to stop from cascading down her cheeks. "Please don't leave me."
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, giving her a final parting kiss. "I am not leaving you. I shall return."
"P-promise?" She said breathlessly in between their heated kiss.
"I promise," he whispered back against her lips. If he were honest, he would have admitted that he was going to miss this small female immensely.
Bulma couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes as she heard his promise.
He pulled back and once again wiped her tears, "What did I tell you a few months ago?"
She smiled sadly through the tears as she reminisced. "Crying is for weaklings." She whispered back.
"And are you weak?" He now demanded.
"No." She stated firmly. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked determinedly at him. "You better be back, or I shall personally come and get you!"
He smirked.
She opened the door behind her, letting him go.
Vegeta stepped over the threshold of his room. He turned back and pulled a small parcel from his pocket. "Happy Birthday, Bulma-chan." The voice was but a mere whisper in the wind, but she had heard it.
She looked down at the small glass rose the palm of her hand. She tried once again to hold the convulsing tears. She found herself running into his arms and hugging him tight to her.
He once again extracted himself from her embrace and stroked her cheek. With a final wistful kiss, he left like the many birds that had graced Jade Forest.
Bulma stood in the doorway of his room, feeling hollow and empty inside.
One thought swam around in her mind. Would he keep his promise? Would he return to her once the war was over?
Only time would tell.
Sighing sadly, she walked over to his bed and looked out of the window, the sun was rising in its full glory, over the trees of Jade Forest. With her lower lip quivering, she lifted the glass rose to the small rays of sunshine. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. It would be something she would treasure forever.
Even though she had kept his mantra to her heart, she couldn't help but let one solitaire crystal tear roll down her cheek as she looked at the bristling jade leaves of the exquisite forest beyond the room.
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A/N: Well, that was the end of chapter one. There are a few more chapters to come. I hope you all enjoyed it, please review and let me know what you thought of it.
Thank you!
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She walked helplessly through the streets of Wou Dhan. The young woman with luxurious azure hair wandered along the dirty roads confoundedly lost. She had come from her home land, Kyoto, in search of her mother. She prayed with every ounce of her being that her mother was somewhere here in Wou Dhan and not dead, like her father pronounced her to be.
Wou Dhan was a far cry from the considerably large city of Kyoto.
When she had been a young girl, only ten, her mother had disappeared. Because of that, her father had become detached and cold towards her. Bulma yearned and ached for her father to look upon her like he had done many years ago when her mother was with them. It was said that she had represented her mother in every minuscule detail. So much to the part where she had diligently followed in her mother's career footsteps.
She had trained to be a healer.
Now at sixteen, she walked slowly along the cobbled road, hoping that her mother would magically appear. But as we all know, miracles do not occur every day.
With a heavy heart, she trudged through the back alley of a street. Bulma looked down at the tattered piece of cloth in her hand. The directions of her aunt's home had been strategically inscribed on the cloth in watery onyx ink. Bulma realized the writing was beginning to fade. She sighed in frustration as she stepped out into the sunlight, on the busy road. She had only been in Wou Dhan for a few hours and in that short amount of time she had learnt that not every one was as polite as they were in Kyoto. They all seemed to be cold and calculating, wary of strangers. It wasn't like that where she had lived.
Bulma looked up sadly at the blue sky which was adorned with small flecks of white clouds. At least it wasn't raining. She had realized that she had picked the wrong time to venture out of Kyoto, it was the monsoon season and no sane woman would dream of leaving the confines of their home, let alone the city.
She stopped by a vegetable stall, pulling up the heavy satchel uncomfortably from her shoulder. She looked at the young boy behind the sea of vegetables.
"Excuse me," she called out softly to the young man. He seemed like a friendly person, but things are not always what they seem. In truth, she didn't know if she could trust him.
The young man, who was at least seventeen looked up from counting the yen in his hands. His eyes widened as he observed the beautiful young woman before him. Everything about her was unusual. Her hair, strangely azure and eyes as blue as the sky. He became instantly mesmerized by the mysterious woman before him. "Yes?" He managed to choke out.
Bulma had to smile. She always had this affect on men, ever since she had turned fifteen and had grown into the beautiful young woman that she was today. She noticed that this man was incredibly handsome, compared to the other ruffians she had seen in Wou Dhan. He was the first person to actually reply to her plea of help and for this she was indebted. "Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you could help me." The words rolled of her tongue like glass beads. She was extremely cocky for a sixteen year old.
The young man tried to gather his verbal skills, who was this angel standing before him? He had to find out, "I would be happy to help you, Ms-?"
She radiated a brilliant smile at him, "You may call be Bulma."
"My name is Yamcha, it is a pleasure to be in your company Bulma." He tried not gawk at her.
Bulma couldn't help but laugh. No one had ever behaved so mannerly in her company, it was quite befitting. "Could you please tell me where I may find this place?" She handed him the tattered piece of cloth.
Yamcha looked down, frowning at the words written in Japanese on the cloth.
'Mameha Chiyo, Vejita-han M.A School, Jade Forest, Wou Dhan.'
Bulma saw the frowning expression on his face and took it as if he had no knowledge of the place. She outstretched her hand to retrieve the piece of cloth. "Forgive me. I'm terribly sorry to have troubled you."
"One minute." Yamcha stared intensely at the piece of paper. How did she know about the prestigious fighting school in Wou Dhan? His eyes grew large, could this woman be a fighter?
He looked at her briefly. No, she did not seem like a fighter and besides, the 'Vejita-han Martial Arts School' was known for forbidding women to partake in any form of fighting.
"Actually, I do know where the School is. If I may not be rude, may I ask what business you have there?" Everyone knew that the school was renowned for its brutality in training, he feared slightly for his new found friend.
Bulma was taken aback by the question. Her temper flared slightly at the young man's nosy intention. She had also been know as hot-tempered, like her mother, back in Kyoto. "My aunt is a healer in the school, if you must know." She snapped.
Yamcha's face fell slightly at being so harshly spoken to. He had never been spoken back to, by a woman no less. Bittersweet memories of his time in Vejita-han School entered his mind. His jaw twitched as he remembered how they had ordered him to leave the school, for being too 'weak'.
The azure-haired woman winced as she realized she had let her temper get the best of her once again. Her voice returned to its soft octave. "I beg your pardon. I did not mean to seem rude. It's just that it had been such a long day and I am feeling quite tired from my journey. I just need to reach the School before nightfall."
Bulma tilted her head, hoping he would accept her apology. He was adorable, for a man, like one of the many small pups running about the streets of Japan.
His eyes brightened at her apology, "It's quite alright. In fact, you need not look further. The Master of the school comes here every day to buy my famous vegetables." He began to gloat, "All the fighters' in Vejita-han have very large appetites."
Bulma laughed as he suddenly came to life and grew animated. "Do they?"
He nodded vigorously, "Yeah! You should see what they buy, every day I run out of stock because of them." His true personality was beginning to show.
He was very sweet, Bulma mused. "So, what you're saying is that, he will come here soon?"
"Yes!" He cried enthusiastically.
"Do you know how long I would have to be here before he turned up?"
"He shall arrive before dusk. That is when they start to prepare the food. He always likes his vegetables fresh."
"You seem to know a lot about the school," Bulma contemplated.
A blush rose up his cheeks, "Everyone knows about the school. It's a very prestigious school to enter."
Bulma frowned, "So why did no one help me when I asked for directions!"
"Well," he looked at her bashfully, "You are a stranger to Wou Dhan, that's why. Many people here are suspicious of things they do not know. This is a small town after all."
"Well that's just stupid!" She huffed.
"Move, girl!" A gruff voice from behind her called out.
Bulma flushed in embarrassment, she moved aside from the sea of vegetables and looked pleadingly at her new companion. "Would you mind if I stood there with you? I think I'm getting in the way of everyone who is trying to buy your vegetables." She laughed slightly.
Yamcha beamed back at her, "Sure," he lifted the wooden partition to let her through.
Bulma ducked and swiftly stepped in. She smiled gratefully, "Thanks. For everything."
He blushed again, and she laughed.
For the next few hours she had the most enjoyable time she had ever spent with another being.
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After a few hours of conversing, Bulma smiled compassionately at her new friend. They had laughed and joked, as if they had known each other their entire lives. She had never felt so comfortable with anyone in her life.
If she didn't know any better, she felt as though she were falling for him.
But the happiness was short lived as a tall, graying man approached the vegetable stock. He was extremely handsome for his age. With hair that was upswept unusually in a flame-like shape and a bushy mustache that was considerably gray. Bulma wondered why his countenance seemed slightly grumpy
The man regarded Yamcha coldly, "The usual boy." The Master of Vejita-han School demanded. He regarded the unusual coloured woman standing beside his former pupil. Why did she seem familiar to him?
Yamcha bowed and complied to the older man's request. "Right away Vejita- san."
Bulma raised her eyebrow at the exchange. Hadn't Yamcha said that this man was kind? She saw Yamcha's urging look and cleared her throat as she spoke to the older man. "Excuse me, sir."
Vejita regarded her in amusement, "What is it, girl?"
"I was wondering, does a woman named Mameha Chiyo live at your Martial Arts School?" Something flickered in the older man's eyes.
"Who wants to know?" He asked gruffly.
"I do. My name is Bulma, I am Mameha-san's niece.." She trailed off as the man stared at her openly and chuckled.
Master Vejita chuckled wryly, "Yes I see the resemblance now. What are you doing behind there?"
"Oh, well, the young man Yamcha told me you would come here to buy vegetables before dusk. So I waited here with him, for you."
He quirked his eyebrow, "Indeed. Very well, come along child. Who am I to stop you from meeting with your aunt."
Bulma was now entirely confused. He had been so cold towards her before he had know who she was. Were all people in Wou Dhan like this? Just then Yamcha returned with the paper bags of vegetables.
Master Vejita regarded her silently for a moment. "Well don't just stand there girl, help me with these groceries."
Bulma complied, now utterly lost as to why he was being so friendly. But she soon recovered as she waved good-bye to Yamcha. She had promised him that she would return to visit him when the time was not so umcompliable. Now she silently walked beside the old Master, secretly wondering why he came to pick up groceries, if he was rich enough to have people obtain them for him.
She gave up on such petty thoughts and concentrated on not tripping as she carried the heavy bag. She was only holding one, but the older male was holding four. Were all trainees at the school as fiercely strong and large as the man that walked beside her?
She was afraid to find out.
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Bulma inhaled for air, trying not to gag at the same time. They had been walking for almost two hours, and at an extremely fast pace. Were all fighters this physically fit? If she was honest, she had always been interested in the fighting aspect of her job. She secretly wondered how they maintained such a demanding schedule.
She had seen many injuries obtained from battle in the first year of her job, and she was clearly intrigued by it all. She had always felt the need for power, and fighting gave you that. But she knew that nothing would amount from her secret desire, all she would have done was given her father more grief and that was something she never wanted to give him.
Her father had been the one to mention his sister in-law. Bulma had been grateful for the information and so the very same week she had left for Wou Dhan.
She noticed that Master Vejita had stopped. She looked about her surrounding and gasped in delight. They had entered a forest, a jade forest to be exact. Bulma had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. Just in the distance she could see fairly large huts, all surrounded by leaves of jade. Her chest heaved up and down, why had she become so short of breath so suddenly? Was she that unfit?
Master Vejita noticed the lack of oxygen reaching the younger girl, he smiled secretly and as if reading her thoughts, he spoke. "We have been walking up hill."
Bulma looked up at the larger man in surprise. Had they? If they had, she had not noticed.
"We are halfway up on Jade Land. What you are witnessing before you is called Jade Forest. This is where my school is situated. If you go further up into the forest, the forest abruptly stops and a cliff is present. To the right of the huts is a lake, with a spacious opening. I sometimes train my students there, it is a very peaceful place."
"Why so high up on a hill, no less?"
He shrugged, "The lack of oxygen up here contributes to my students' training. They become stronger that way." He began walking towards one of the large huts. In total there were six of them, some larger than the others but mostly they were alike, all placed strategically in a crescent shape.
Bulma followed him, trying to keep up. He entered the hut, before calling her in. Bulma bit her lip as she stepped across the threshold. She gasped as she saw the interior, which was exquisitely yet modestly decorated. Many fine tapestries were adorned around the large hut and Bulma could see more rooms being branched off from the current room they were standing in. She never knew that fighters could need so much luxury in their life? Wasn't just fighting enough?
Master Vejita began diligently lighting candles all around the room. He smirked as he saw Bulma's expression, "Just because we live in huts and fight, does not mean we live like savages."
"I didn't say anything." She said, confused.
He chuckled, "You did not have to, I could see it on your face."
Bulma placed the paper bag on the large oak table that was placed in the corner of the room. She remained silent, waiting for the Master to speak.
"My son should be returning from his training any moment now."
Bulma looked at him, shocked. "You have a son?"
He laughed, "Is it so unbelievable?"
Bulma shook her head, "No-"
"I think he is about your age.. No, perhaps a few years older than you. How old are you girl?"
"Sixteen."
He nodded, "That is about right. My son is two years older than you." A strange glint formed in his eyes.
Bulma's brow furrowed, what had that got to with her and her aunt? "I don't mean to be rude, sire, but could you direct me to my aunt. I would be ever so grateful."
He snorted, "Children. Always impatient. Very well, come with me." He walked out of the large door towards another large hut that was placed at the end of the other five. He spoke as he walked, "Each hut can house fifteen people. One is mine and my son's, the other three are living quarters."
He motioned to the middle hut, "That is the fighting arena, women are forbidden in there, my son is currently training in there with another student, the rest of the pupils are away on a spiritual mission." His eyes gleamed in amusement.
"Your aunt is a healer and so lives in the medical ward of my school, with four other healers." He looked down at her, something in his eyes softening, "Yes, you resemble her greatly.." A wistful look crossed his face, before it was wiped clean. He stopped in front of the last hut.
"Are you ready to meet with your aunt, girl?" He asked somewhat darkly.
Bulma looked fearfully at the door, this was what she had come here for, right? "Yes," she said softly.
The Master chuckled and knocked on the door.
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Vegeta back-flipped away from his opponent. His chest heaved up and down, a thin film of sweat gleaming in the last rays of sunlight that entered the training arena. He flew back to his opponent, a familiar smirk gracing his dark features.
"Come one, Kakarott!" He said between breaths. He loved a good fight and his only friend was a worthy opponent. He constantly reminded himself that he should tell his father not to have the school situated so damn high. The lack of oxygen was not good for you, no matter what he said.
Kakarott grinned childishly at his life long friend. He took one final swing but came crashing down as his friend's knee became lodged in his gut. He grunted and doubled over in pain. "You dog!" He gasped.
Vegeta grinned devilishly at the still form of his friend on the training mat. "Get up you weakling!" He taunted. It always made him happy to see his strong friend behave so weak in his presence. Vegeta always prided himself on his strength. For some strange reason, he had always felt that he had something to prove to his father. That he would become a true warrior.
And avenge his mother's death, he thought darkly. It was funny how his mother's death always seemed to form like a mist in his mind when he was fighting, and distract him from his goal. He did not know what had happened that cold night so long ago, the night his mother had died in the arms of his father.
All he remembered was that she had been covered in blood and that Vegeta and his father had gone in search of her that rainy night. Sure enough, they had found her lying in a pool of blood in the Jade Forest. Her clothing torn and tattered, a deep gash in the side of her stomach. They had later found out that bandits had been on the loose in the capital of Wou Dhan and were hiding out in Jade Forest. If only they hadn't let her out during the night! Then she would still be with them, coddling him as if he were a child.
Vegeta closed his eyes as he stood perfectly still in the middle of the training arena, reliving the heart wrenching memories. Eight years on and he still could not forget her broken form. His heart secretly ached to be held by his mother, if only for one last time. He was never the ideal son, always causing mischief and always getting into fights, but he knew that she had loved him and that was enough for his heart to turn to stone the day she died.
If he was honest, that was the day that he had closed up his emotions. He had bottled them all up, and mentally threw the bottle away. When he saw his mother dying in his father's arms, it had been the last straw for him. He saw his father's soul as if it had been torn apart and cast into the wind, when his mother died. And so Vegeta promised himself never to give his heart to another.
It would only cause more heartache, wouldn't it?
"What's the matter? Is the mighty warrior tired?" A mockingly sympathetic voice rang out in the empty arena.
Vegeta's eyes snapped opened. He growled in annoyance at the intruder. He turned to face the entrance way of the arena. "What do you want, Niko?" He glared at his long time rival. They had always been competing to be the best student and warrior to graduate from the school.
Vegeta smirked, he new that the school would belong to him once his father came of age. It was only a matter of time.
Niko snarled at the smirking face of his rival. "What's the matter, Vegeta? Thinking about your poor mother? How pathetic, you couldn't even save her." He hated Vegeta, and he wanted him to feel it. Everyone had known about the tragic death but no one had dared to voice the actual event. This was Niko's big mistake as he baited Vegeta.
Vegeta's eyes glinted evilly. Reaching behind him he pulled out his thin bladed sword from its ornate leather casing. The blade glinted in the final rays on sunlight that poured through the large windows. "Say that again," he dared. His voice was laced with hate and anger.
Kakarott had been watching the exchange quietly from the floor. Now he stood up and placed his hand softly on his friend's shoulder. "Vegeta, let it go."
Vegeta shrugged off his hand, "Shut up Kakarott! This had nothing to do with you. This is between me and him." He glared at Niko, still taunting him.
Niko pulled out his own sword and lunged at the experienced fighter.
Kakarott watched helplessly. He knew the outcome would not be good.
***************************************************************
Mameha smiled as she stroked her niece's silky azure hair. She sighed, "I'm so happy you are here Bulma.." The two sat in Mameha's private chambers in the medical ward. The reason why the room was in the ward was simple, it was because Mameha was a healer and her job demanded dedication. She was in charge of the other four healers as well.
Bulma exhaled in relief, like a child she rested her head on her aunt's lap. "I've missed you Aunt Mameha. Why did you leave Kyoto?"
The older woman chuckled, "Everyone needs a change. Why did you come here?" She retaliated.
Bulma laughed, "I see you're point." She smiled up sleepily at her beloved aunt. "Thank you." She added.
"For what?"
"If it weren't for you, Master Vejita would have never allowed me to work as a healer in his school."
Mameha smiled, "You're quite welcome. Anything for my precious niece." She looked down worriedly, "Any news of your mother?" She asked softly.
Bulma shook her head regretfully, "No. Like a fool, I thought she might have come here to Wou Dhan, to see you..."
"Well, as you can see, she is not here." She smiled sadly, "She'll turn up.."
Bulma felt a tear run down her temple, "I hope so." She laughed bitterly, "Father thinks she is dead. Maybe he is right."
"Hush now child! Do not say such things." She continually stroked the young woman's hair.
Bulma felt herself being lulled into a deep sleep..
***************************************************************
Master Vejita looked up from his book as he heard perpetual crashes coming from the training arena. His son and friend sounded as though they were partaking in a battle of some sort. Letting curiosity take over, he made his way leisurely to the arena.
*****
Master Vejita was shocked at what he saw in the arena. The slick wooden floors were partly covered in blood. The two fighters stood on opposite ends of the arena, glaring at each other. Vegeta was clutching his arm, as he held his sword out in front of him. A shallow cut had been diagonally slashed across his chest and another on his cheek. Another of his students, Niko, stood with numerous cuts and bruises, panting heavily. Kakarott looked at his master in earnest.
"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" He bellowed. His voice echoed around the bare room, causing the two fighters to look up from their arduous battle.
Vegeta looked at his father. Damn. He sent another death glare to his rival.
Niko was about to lunge towards Vegeta again, before Vegeta's father intercepted and chopped the back of his neck, rendering him unconscious.
"You should have let him. The fool has a death wish," Vegeta spat.
Master Vejita looked at his son in disappointment, he was always causing trouble. "Can't you stay out of your petty rivalries for one night?" He demanded gruffly. "You could have killed him."
"Good," Vegeta snarled. "He had it coming."
Master Vejita rolled his eyes in disgust. "Have you not learned anything from my teachings?"
Vegeta smirked, "Only how to fight."
Master Vejita saighed sadly, "Then you shall truly lose Vegeta, you shall truly lose." He spoke cryptically. He looked at Kakarott. "And you! You could have stopped this, but you remained on the sidelines."
Kakarott bowed, "Forgive me Master. But as your teachings say, a fighter must not interrupt in another man's battles. It is forbidden."
"At least one of you is learning something," he grumbled, glaring at his son. "Take yourself to Mameha. She will fix you." He turned back to his other pupil, "Kakarott, take Niko back to his quarters. He does not need any medical attention."
Kakarrot bowed and complied.
Vegeta breathed something into his friend's ear, "Teacher's pet," he muttered.
Kakarott held back a smirk as he picked up the still body of Niko and began making his journey to their living quarters.
Vegeta glanced at his father for a moment. An unfamiliar emotion flashing across his eyes. He threw Niko's sword down on the floor before his feet, still with a hue of blood gracing its sharp tip. The thin sword clanked heavily on the ground. He placed his own sword back into its intricate casing, behind his back. As Niko's sword rattled against the wood floor, Vegeta turned and made his way to the medical bay.
Vegeta's father stood alone in the arena, staring at the thrown sword. He crouched down on the floor beside it and picked it up in his firm grip. He looked at the precise detail on the sword and sighed. He could never understand the way his son thought. They were alike and different in so many ways.
Looking at the door sadly, he spoke to no one in particular. "What am I going to do with you Vegeta? What am I going to do.."
***************************************************************
Bulma woke up abruptly as her aunt's lap jerked. "What is it?" She asked fearfully.
Mameha put her index finger to her lips, "Shh, someone is in the medical bay."
Bulma sat up from her comfortable position. She looked out of the window, nightfall had already descended upon Wou Dhan. She looked at her aunt walking out of the door. Scrambling out of the bed, she followed. "I'm coming with you." She whispered.
Mameha walked into the medical room and sighed in relief as she saw the back of Vejita-san's son. "Vegeta, what are you doing in here?" She asked quietly.
Bulma stood closely beside her aunt, mesmerized by the rippling muscle in the stranger's back. She looked intently at the long sword casing that was draped across his back. She frowned, had he aunt just called him Vejita?
Vegeta rolled his eyes as he looked down at the loose bandage on his wrist. He was finding it much difficult then he would have bargained for. Some things were best left to the professionals. He slowly turned around as he heard Mameha's voice. As he turned around he caught sight of an azure- haired young woman standing beside Mameha. They resembled each other, but the younger woman's beauty was in a league of its own. He froze, not being able to tear his eyes away from her pretty features.
"I was training too hard," he spoke softly as he stared at the young woman. "I didn't want to disturb you."
Mameha chuckled, "You know it's my job Vegeta."
Vegeta simply grunted, not taking his eyes off of the beauty. He smirked inwardly as she looked away, her cheeks graced with a raging blush.
Bulma blushed intensely and looked at the floor. She could still feel his piercing gaze upon her petite form.
Mameha held back a smile as she observed the interaction between the young couple. She cleared her throat, "Bulma, this is Master Vejita's son, Vegeta. Vegeta, this is my niece, Bulma."
Bulma looked up for a split second, finding herself being pulled into his obsidian eyes. Her eyes traveled down to his bare chest, gleaming with a mixture of sweat and dried blood. Was this the result of being a fighter in the school? She tore her eyes away and resumed looking at the floor. "Nice to meet you," she mumbled.
Vegeta smirked at Mameha and raised his eyebrow at her, "Pleasure." He said somewhat sarcastically.
"Well now that the introductions are over, Bulma would you like to tend to his wounds?"
"She's a healer?" He asked Mameha incredulously.
Bulma looked at her aunt pleadingly, "No really, I'm still very inexperienced."
"Nonsense!" Mameha cried. "If you're going to do this for a profession, you might as well start getting experience. Everything that you will need is on the counter, I trust that you will look after the Master's son. I shall be in my room if there is a problem." She made a hasty exit. She giggled like a teenager as she made her way back to the room. She loved to play matchmaker, and those two made an incredibly cute pair. She just hoped that Bulma's charms would be enough to win over Vegeta's cold persona.
*****
Vegeta stood awkwardly against the counter. The silence between the two was deafening.
Bulma took a deep breath. She was not going to let his cold countenance scare her away. She had gotten the feeling that he wasn't a very sociable. "Ok, let's get this over with." She muttered.
Vegeta raised his eyebrow. "Very well." He said gruffly. He walked towards the high bed that was on the opposite side of the room and sat down softly.
Bulma turned her back to him and began placing all kinds of different lotions on a small round tray. She grabbed the roll of bandages and made her way to the seated patient. Avoiding his gaze, she took his wrist and began unraveling the poorly wrapped bandage, of his own concoction. Bulma stood slightly further away than needed, causing her to struggle. Her mother had always told her to be cautious of handsome men.
Vegeta stared at the side of her face, drinking in the fresh smooth creamy skin that God had graced her with. He took in every detail about her features, from her dainty nose to her rosy cheeks. To the fine silky presence of her azure hair. He yearned to look deeply into the cerulean eyes that had just glanced at him briefly. He shook his head. What the hell was wrong with him? He sounded like a pathetic sap, just like his friend Kakarott.
He remembered the promise he had made eight years ago.
He kept repeating it in his mind like a mantra.
"Can you please stop moving!" She snapped. Her mood had soured considerably, ever since her aunt had left her alone in the room with a perfect stranger.
Vegeta snapped out of his trance, not realizing he had been moving. He narrowed his eyes at her blazing face. "Watch what you say and who you are saying it to, girl."
Bulma couldn't stand his cocky manner, "Well then I guess I shouldn't worry about you!" She spoke back. She didn't know what it was, but he just made her so angry! And that was not good for her short temper.
Vegeta couldn't help but chuckle wryly. This small woman was telling him what to do? A large fighter who could snap her neck at any time, it was positively hilarious. True, he was small compared to the other fighters, but he was much larger than her.
Bulma furiously dipped cotton wool into the burning liquid. She yanked his wrist up.
Vegeta growled, she was purposely causing him pain. "Watch it!" It was his turn to snap.
Bulma took in deep breaths, calming her wild temper. "Sorry," she said softly. "It's just my aunt can be such a busy body sometimes!" She gently wiped the piece of cotton wool on the cut in his wrist.
Vegeta flinched slightly at this. He was totally surprised by her sudden mood swing. What was she, a walking hormone bag? He merely snorted in reply as he continued to watch her work expertly on his cuts and bruises.
She gently wrapped a bandage around the cut wrist, as tightly as his limit of pain would allow, which was extremely high in his case. "If you had been cut any further, you would have bled to death." She commented, somewhat lightly.
"Nothing can hurt me," he spoke supremely.
Bulma looked at him strangely for a moment, before examining the cut the was slashed across his chest. She curiously reached out to touch it but her hand snapped back as she heard him inhale sharply. "Sorry," she muttered. Taking a cloth, she poured more healing ointment onto its soft fabric and leaned down to gently dab the harsh slash.
Vegeta leaned back slightly, uncomfortable with the closeness of the young woman. He looked down as she gently tended to his wound, something in his heart began to stir. He could see the fire and passion burning in her eyes, it reminded him so much of his own self that it was frightening. Closing his eyes, he inhaled softly taking parts of her delicate scent into his nasal cavity. Unaware of his actions, he growled. What the hell was she doing to him? He tried to push away the impure thoughts that had just flashed through his mind.
Unable to stop himself, he had to ask. "How old are you?" He breathed softly into the top of her head.
Bulma was completely oblivious to the change in his manner, "I'm sixteen. I'll be turning seventeen soon." She didn't know why she had added the last part. "How old are you?" She looked up inquisitively into his eyes as she skillfully wrapped the bandage diagonally around his chest, once again taking no heed of his shallow breathing.
Vegeta held back a smirk. They were very close in age. "Eighteen." He saw her stiffen slightly, and was confused by the change in her demeanor.
"Right," she said uncomfortably. "H-how did you get hurt?"
Vegeta's brow furrowed, "You seem smart enough, must you ask?"
"Hey, I was just being polite!" She now looked at the large bruise on his forehead. She began dabbing more healing oils onto the cloth, once again cleaning off the wound.
"If you must know, it was during a duel with a rival." He sneered as his thoughts returned to Niko. He would get the fool later. He would have killed him there and then had it not been for his father's interruption.
"Do you always get yourself into those predicaments?" She asked playfully.
Vegeta felt as if he had been stung. This was certainly a change for the young woman. "Yes, I always seem to do," he mused drily.
"You should be more careful," she joked as she began wrapping the bandage around his forehead. She had to stand up on her tip toes to reach his forehead, as he was perched on the high bed, causing him to be further away than she had bargained for.
He sensed something in him awaken, as if it had been slumbering for the past eight years. He didn't know what it was, but he realized it couldn't lead to anything good.
Bulma looked at the final cut on his cheek. She firmly placed the oil covered cotton wool against his cheek.
"Watch it!" He hissed as it stung to the high heavens.
"Calm down!" She retorted. "I thought you were supposed to be a warrior." A hint of teasing in her tone.
He snarled at the comment, "What are you implying?" How could this woman have him totally hypnotized one moment and the next he felt like crushing her prim and proper skull? He shook himself out of the reverie.
"Nothing!" She said gaily and laughed at his murderous glare. "Relax, I was only joking."
Vegeta calmed down visibly. She was such an odd person, he thought secretly. He watched slightly cross-eyed as she placed the plaster on his cheek, cupping his face gently. She paused momentarily as she looked up into his eyes, which were searching her own.
Vegeta looked down into the startling blue eyes. He had never seen anyone in Wou Dhan with blue coloured eyes. "Your eyes.." He breathed. He felt something take over his mind, as if thinking for him and acting for him.
Bulma felt her heart thud in her chest. She swallowed, trying to create some sort of moisture in her dry throat as she gazed up into his dark obsidian eyes. Her cheeks were graced with their normal hazy rose when she was either embarrassed or excited. She didn't know if this time she was both embarrassed and excited at the same time. She had never been with a man before, of course she had with a boy of her own age, but never a man who was older than her. This scared her somewhat.
"What about my eyes..?" She whispered hoarsely.
Unable to stop himself, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. "They remind me of a lake in Jade Forest." He murmured back. He had gone to that lake many times with his mother, but he hadn't been there since.. Since she had died. He tried to push away the morbid thoughts and concentrate on the small female that was cupping his cheek. In one swift move, he brought her up into his lap.
Bulma gasped, her breathing becoming construed. She grew mildly afraid of what he was doing. But he didn't do anything. He just stared deeply into her cerulean eyes, as if under a spell. Bulma sat comfortably in his lap, her eyes darting back and forth wildly. Her reasonable conscience screamed at her, to push him away, to run out of his comfortable embrace and back into the safety of Kyoto and all that she held dear to her. Every fiber of her being caught on fire as his hands trailed up the large sleeves of her kimono, rubbing her ever present goose pimples lightly, causing them to strain against her skin.
Vegeta brought his lips down to capture hers in a heated kiss. He just couldn't help himself, even though every signal from his brain cells to his nerves notified him to push her away. It was unbelievable what hormones could make one do, and Vegeta's were crackling maniacally around his aura.
She tilted her head back into a more comfortable position. Placing her hand on the back of his neck, she found herself kissing back more urgently than needed. She moaned pleasurably as his lips caressed her own, causing a shiver to travel up her spine.
After a few more moments of exploring, she began to pull back in fear. What the hell was she doing? She couldn't do this with a perfect stranger. Her subconscious argued with her, of course she could do this! Who knows, something good might even come out of it. She shook her head, looking at his frowning face in sorrow.
"I'm sorry, I-I can't do this..." She quickly extracted herself from his arms and back away slowly for him, running out of the door. Her feet didn't pound against the floor, for fear of disturbing people. She swiftly made her way out of the hut and ran through the Jade Forest, not running to a particular place instead, letting her instincts take over. As if she hadn't already gotten herself into enough trouble by letting her instincts take over.
Vegeta stared at the wide berth of the doorway, now empty and free of Bulma's presence. One minute he had been in pure ecstasy and the next, he was alone with his loins set on fire, left to die out on their own. He growled at the apparent occasion, if there was one thing that he could not stand, it was being left alone with his morbid thoughts. He did not take well to rejection, either.
Still bandaged, he jumped down from the bed and silently followed her out, wanting to demand an explanation for her actions.
***************************************************************
That was when she had felt them. The tears cascaded down her cheeks as she ran. She had been here to find her mother, dammit! Not fornicating with the nearest handsome man she came across. But if that was the case then why hadn't she accepted Yamcha's advances? She shook her head and looked to the twinkling stars above.
The tears streaming down her face, she screamed at the heavens above. "Why? Where is my Mother, you smart-ass fucker!" She began continuing her assault on the shining stars above. She ran to opening in the forest, finding herself standing in front of a still lake. Not one ripple was uttered across the film of water. Upon seeing the calmness, she snapped. It was like something that had been bottled up inside of her for six years had finally come cascading out of her. And one even had caused this chain reaction.
A simple kiss.
She screamed out again and again, "I HATE YOU." The three words were repeated, until she found that she could no longer scream. She fell on her knees, sobbing with the extremity of her outburst. Why her? Why did she have to be so alone? Her mother was lost to all who knew her, her father couldn't give a damn about her safety and her beauty was more like a curse than a gift. She collapsed sideways onto the rock beside her and sobbed, sobbed for the last six years of her life she had lost. For never once since her mother had left, had she cried. She had never truly cried her heart out, but now that all came pouring out.
Vegeta stood absolutely still, transfixed by the screaming visage before him. Had she lost her mother to an unknown force too? He followed her to the lake, the lake where he and his mother had passed many lazy hours. He stopped a few feet away as she collapsed sobbing, against the large rock. Something in his stone heart cracked as he witnessed her sobbing escapade. He had never seen anyone cry as much as this, save for his father when he held his dying wife in his arms. Vegeta had always been disgusted by the thought of tears, when he saw his father crying it had been as if realization slapped him in the face. His father looked truly weak, and Vegeta did not want to be like that.
But now as he saw this small young woman crying over the loss of something they shared in common, his cold resolve had cracked, if only slightly. He had followed her, determined to make her answer for the abrupt change in behavior and why she had rejected him.
As he saw her cry, he knew he couldn't do anything to make her upset. At some point during the evening, he had come to respect the small female. Now as he saw her slumped and heart broken, he truly did not know what to do. Hesitating slightly, he walked to her slumped form.
Crouching down beside her, he scooped her into his lap as he had previously.
Bulma gasped as she found herself being lifted and placed in strong muscled arms. She looked up through her tears to see Vegeta scowling down at her. "W-what..?" She was confused as to how he had shown up.
"Quiet woman." He gently wiped her tears, "You cry too much. It is not fitting for a fighting spirit like yours."
"I haven't cried like that before not since.. Since before my mother disappeared.." She sat numbly in his arms and looked out at the still lake.
Vegeta placed his back against the rock and looked in the same direction. "What caused you to shed your tears today?"
She tilted her head, looking at the reflection of stars in the lake. "Everything.." She mumbled. "I guess I was just waiting to explode." She added with a wry sense of humor.
He grunted into the top of her head. "Crying is for weaklings," he spoke wisely. "You are not weak. No more tears."
Bulma wiped her cheeks free of the unforgivable tears, she sniffed. "Why did you follow me?" She whispered.
He looked down in mild surprise. "I don't take well to rejection." He said sourly.
Bulma had to let a smile shine through her morbid features. "Well, then we're in the same boat I reckon."
Vegeta smirked, he thought about the loss of his own mother and hers. "You have no idea.."
She looked deeply into his eyes, somehow getting the feeling that there was an underlying message in his words.
Vegeta looked back with equal intensity. He found the blue eyes pulling him in once again, it was as if they had a permanent magnet implanted in them set on making his stomach churn with unwanted emotions. He leaned his face down to her own sweet angelic face, and for once allowed his emotions to rule his actions.
As he kissed her softly once again, he comprehended a strange thought. He didn't love her, no, for what person could fall in love with another in one night of being in each other's company? No he wasn't in love her, but he did acknowledge that he needed her and who knew, maybe his need would turn into love one day? He prayed to Kami that he would not fall in love, for that would in itself go against his principles and repelled him to no end.
But for now, he just needed her.
***************************************************************
The next few months went by in a hazy ignorant bliss by the couple. Neither of them knew it, but they were slowly falling in love with each other. Because Vegeta didn't acknowledge the new found feeling as love, he was content in his own world along with Bulma who was only there to add some excitement. Well, that is the thought he reasoned his actions with.
In the coming months, Bulma found herself growing further and further attached to Jade Forest, in Wou Dhan. So far, she had heard no word of her mother and had entirely given up. But she did not wish to leave Wou Dhan and return to Kyoto with her developed skills of healing. So she remained with Vegeta and stayed in Wou Dhan.
Their meetings were kept from all, although they were constant and almost nightly visits from Vegeta himself. She too was unaware that she was falling for the handsome young warrior. During the day, they pretended to hate each other, each insulting the other. But when night came, their entire persona's changed. They were clue less to the new emotions they were feeling.
Bulma had befriended many of the trainee warriors, young and old that trained in the prestigious school. She had also grown close to Vegeta's father, which was an added bonus. She couldn't have been happier, she even dismissed her mother from her thoughts.
For once, she was content with her life.
But as we all know, some good things just never last.
***************************************************************
It was the day of her birthday when it had happened.
Bulma skipped along the corridor of her aunt's living quarters, she had woken up in a considerably good mood that day. Nothing could ruin her special day. She was intent on spending the day with Vegeta, regardless of whether or not he was training. He was after all indebted to her. She stopped her happy escapade as she realized that there was something strangely unfamiliar about the eerie quiet halls that were usually full of hustle and bustle.
Bulma stopped walking completely. She frowned, why was everything so quiet? A crashing sounds from the outside was brought to her attention. With a frown, she ran out of the large hut and looked around the area surrounding the hut. Her eyes widened as warriors began running in and out of their huts, gathering their possessions. She cried out in surprise as she was almost knocked over.
"Forgive me Bulma-san." Kakarott said rather breathlessly, catching her before she fell.
"What's going on?" She demanded.
"War Bulma-san. Our first war!" He exclaimed in an excited manner.
"What?" She cried out, once again almost being knocked over.
"Emperor Qin has demanded all warriors to report to his Royal army. We're going into battle with the Hans."
"But I thought they settled the Han matter?" Her features clearly showed confusion.
"So did Emperor Qin." Kakarott looked up as warriors began running in the direction of the exit from Jade Forest. He looked back at Bulma with a melancholy air. "Forgive me Bulma-san, but I have to go." He ran from her side, carrying some possessions. He turned back for a moment before calling back, "See you soon Bulma-san!" With a wave he ran out of view.
Her breathing became uneven. Her eyes grew large. If every warrior had been summoned then, did that mean that Ve-? She didn't let the thought finish as she ran to Vegeta's hut. She pounded on the door forcefully, holding back her tears.
Master Vejita opened the door, he too was carrying a few necessity possessions. "Bulma!"
"Master, what is going on? Are all the warriors to go?"
He looked at her regretfully, "I'm afraid so, my child." He shook his head. "Emperer chin has really gone and done it this time."
"That means-"
"Yes, Vejita-han School will have to be shut down until the war is over."
Bulma's face fell. She felt Vegeta's father place his hand on her cheek. "Do not fear for us. We shall return triumphant."
"Is Vegeta-"
"Yes," he said growing impatient as he looked over head. "Go to him, he is gathering his armor." With that said, he lightly kissed the top of her head and bid her farewell.
Bulma rushed inside the large hut, which should rightly be called a cottage or even house. She ran directly towards Vegeta's room. Running in, she slammed the door behind her, blocking off his only exit.
Vegeta turned around, shock evident.
Bulma looked at him, holding back her tears. "You're not going." She said stubbornly.
Vegeta sighed, he knew this had been coming. "It is what I do.."
She shook her head, as if in denial. "No! I'm not going to lose another person I care about," her voice quivered.
Slinging the satchel across his shoulder he walked up to her, as she pressed her back against the door. "Let me pass," he growled lightly.
"I-I can't.." She wavered slightly, seeing the furious look on his face.
Vegeta's expression softened mildly as he saw her fear. Fear of him, and for his life. Leaning down, he kissed her lightly. "I shall return to you. You know that. Or have you such little faith in my abilities?"
That question made her think. "It's not that... I'm afraid that if I let you go, you will never return. Vegeta please," tears welled up in her eyes. The same tears she had tried to stop from cascading down her cheeks. "Please don't leave me."
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, giving her a final parting kiss. "I am not leaving you. I shall return."
"P-promise?" She said breathlessly in between their heated kiss.
"I promise," he whispered back against her lips. If he were honest, he would have admitted that he was going to miss this small female immensely.
Bulma couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes as she heard his promise.
He pulled back and once again wiped her tears, "What did I tell you a few months ago?"
She smiled sadly through the tears as she reminisced. "Crying is for weaklings." She whispered back.
"And are you weak?" He now demanded.
"No." She stated firmly. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked determinedly at him. "You better be back, or I shall personally come and get you!"
He smirked.
She opened the door behind her, letting him go.
Vegeta stepped over the threshold of his room. He turned back and pulled a small parcel from his pocket. "Happy Birthday, Bulma-chan." The voice was but a mere whisper in the wind, but she had heard it.
She looked down at the small glass rose the palm of her hand. She tried once again to hold the convulsing tears. She found herself running into his arms and hugging him tight to her.
He once again extracted himself from her embrace and stroked her cheek. With a final wistful kiss, he left like the many birds that had graced Jade Forest.
Bulma stood in the doorway of his room, feeling hollow and empty inside.
One thought swam around in her mind. Would he keep his promise? Would he return to her once the war was over?
Only time would tell.
Sighing sadly, she walked over to his bed and looked out of the window, the sun was rising in its full glory, over the trees of Jade Forest. With her lower lip quivering, she lifted the glass rose to the small rays of sunshine. She had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. It would be something she would treasure forever.
Even though she had kept his mantra to her heart, she couldn't help but let one solitaire crystal tear roll down her cheek as she looked at the bristling jade leaves of the exquisite forest beyond the room.
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A/N: Well, that was the end of chapter one. There are a few more chapters to come. I hope you all enjoyed it, please review and let me know what you thought of it.
Thank you!