Falling Short
Epilogue:
Starting Over
Bulma
cursed as one of the several grocery bags she was carrying began to slip from
her grasp. She twisted, and grunted,
and stretched her arms as far as they could in order to keep a hold on it. Please,
don't let the eggs fall, she prayed, biting her lip as she maneuvered into
the kitchen. I really don't feel like cleaning in this heat.
She
half stumbled, half ran the last few feet to the kitchen counter and set down
her bags with a relieved sigh. That was close. But at
least I won't be doing the cooking. She began to unload the many food items,
hiding a package of small chocolates behind the vanilla, so that her father
wouldn't discover it as he had the last one. That man is so hopeless, she
thought, rolling her eyes. Between his smoking and drinking and
sweet-hoarding, I'll be head of the company in no time.
Bulma
was just placing her dozen eggs into the refrigerator door when a sound from
the next room distracted her. It
sounded like a television news broadcast. Frowning to herself, as both her parents were still out shopping, she
investigated. She hadn't expected what
she found: Vegeta, dressed casually and sitting on the sofa before the
television. He flipped the channels in
obvious boredom, finally coming to rest on the same program he'd had on
originally.
He hasn't been here for a
few days,
Bulma thought to herself, stepping cautiously into the room. Not
since Koan left. I wonder what he's doing back. Maybe…looking for her? She had no idea what had transpired between
the two Saiyans that night several days ago, nor what had prompted Koan to
disappear and Vegeta to retreat into space once more. She imagined that it had been a fight of some kind, judging by
the prince's sour mood when he departed. Her only clues were Koan's last words to her.
"I'm leaving, Bulma. Thank you for everything
you've done for me, and Cumber. I'm sure we'll meet again someday." And when the woman had asked where her
comrade was going, she'd simply answered, "Only far enough." Whatever that meant.
Bulma
crept into the living room, her mind spinning with a dozen possibilities as to
what had become of the mysterious Saiyan woman, and how Vegeta was handling the
sudden separation. He didn't seem to
notice her approach, even when a floor board squeaked beneath the balls of her
feet. When she finally was able to see
his face, she found it to be set in stone. Typical Vegeta. But there was something odd reflected in his
eyes, like the surface of deep water. He wasn't simply watching the television; he seemed to be remembering,
or pondering something.
"Vegeta?" She seated herself on the sofa beside him,
her legs folded beneath her. "I didn't
know you were here."
The
prince simply "hmmed" in a non-committal response. He didn't even look her way. "Mom's going to be making dinner when she gets back. Will you eat with us? I bought some expensive prime rib."
Vegeta
nodded.
He…looks different. Almost…. Bulma watched him very carefully, as if waiting for him to act. He didn't, letting the silence tick
past. She frowned, and edged closer a
bit. "You've been in space for a long
time."
He
shifted. "Yes."
"You…you
did it, didn't you?"
"Yes."
Bulma
sighed quietly through her nose. He
didn't say anything more, didn't brag or even explain. He simply stated the fact that shown in his
face and manner--the fact that, somehow, didn't please him as much as it should
have. He was watching his own face,
reflected in the dark colors on the television screen. He seemed to be searching for something.
He came back, to find Koan, Bulma realized, pursing
her lips into a straight line. But she's gone now. She's
not coming back. She reached out,
barely aware of her own actions in doing so. Her fingertips brushed the side of his face. For a moment his eyes shifted their attention to her, confirming
with that glance what she'd known all along. He's lonely, just like me.
Bulma
moved closer, uncaring if he protested, and leaned against his shoulder. The Saiyan prince did not recoil or even
seem to notice. His skin was warm, and
she felt that she needed that now. He
needed it, too. She could sense the coldness
of space which had invaded upon him, and she wanted to comfort that feeling of
isolation, if she could. She might not
have understood Vegeta as well as she wanted to--she might not have even
trusted her fragile affection for him--but she stayed with him, offering to him
what she could.
"You'll
stay here for a while, won't you?"
"Yes. For a while."
*End
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