Disclaimer: Konnichiwa minna! I don't own Dragonball/Z/GT etc., etc., etc.
This is a B/V fic that I just HAD to write. I'm a big Heather Nova fan, but
I don't own anything of hers either. *Tearjerker warning! * Well, at least
I hope so. This is a songfic about what would happen if Buruma died. Angst,
death, and general unhappiness among the populace. Don't say I didn't warn
you.
Walking Higher By Tora
//I carry you with me,// //A ghost inside,// //And in these shattered arms//, //You're still alive.//
She was dead. Vejita sat, unmoving in the pouring rain, mud soaking through the knees of his blue spandex bodysuit as he knelt in the storm.
//I carry you with me,// //A holy shrine.// //And dogs and angels follow,// //Right behind.//
Vejita sighed, putting his head in his hands. He didn't think he could bear it anymore. The only person he'd ever loved, ever opened the doors to the unyielding wall made of steel and ice and hate that was around his mind and soul, was gone forever. Five years now. Five years of torment.
//Could I be walking higher?// //Could I be right beside her?//
He gathered his resolve looked up in front of him. A tall stone stood before him, small rivulets of water running down to seep into the carved letters "buruma briefs, loving wife and devoted mother". Feh. He had never liked the foolish engraving that had been put there. Gathering a small dot of his ki, he gently laid his finger on the marble that was as cold as the pouring rain and began his own carving.
//The bones they buried,// //Will feed the trees.// //But every word you,// //Ever spoke,// //Is still in me.//
He finished shortly after, letting the pounding rain wash away the heat of his ki and the excess stone that he had dug out. He read the new epitaph, written in delicate Saiya-jin script and set right under the original one, out loud. "Buruma no Oujo, Princess of the Saiya-jin".
//Could I be walking higher?// //Could I be right beside her?//
He stood slowly, his vision blurring from the rain as he inspected his work, stooping to run his fingers gently over the now clean cut characters, then drawing himself up again he walked calmly away.
//And I will feel for you in the music,// //And I will send that river home,// //And I will cry for you sometimes,// //When the night is down.//
His vision blurred again, though this time not from the pelting rain that now soaked him to the bone. Tears began to wind their way down his cheeks, though he said nothing. Maybe if he ignored the tears, they would go away.
//And I will raise my head up to the mountains,// //Talk to the birds and I'll// //Fly,// //'Cause the spirit lives on// //When the body dies.//
A slim hand rested on his shoulder, one full of hidden strength, and he turned slowly around. A face, so much like hers that he felt his chest tighten, with pale cheeks, a soft waterfall of azure hair framing them, and sapphire eyes, wide as the skies and deep as the seas of Chikyuu. "Trunks- Oniisan would have come if he didn't have to work today, you know, Poppa." She said, her blue eyes troubled. Vejita nodded, not trusting his voice. She looked so much like her. it tore him apart inside. Her eyes clouded when she noticed the thick trails of moisture on his cheeks, and his overbright eyes. Abruptly she stood in front of him, slipped her thin arms under his still ones hanging at his sides, and hugged him. He stiffened, almost by reflex, and then shifted arms that could crush mountains and wrapped them about her small, trembling form. He heard a dim, tearful whisper in his ear, "I miss her too, Poppa." As he rested his head on her shoulder and finally, finally, consciously allowed himself to cry, his world shuddering apart for a few moments, then coming to rest on the young woman, his daughter, one of the two things that still mattered to him now, in his arms. They stood like that for a moment that stretched out into an eternity, before finally relinquishing their holds on each other and, without words, slowly, slowly, walking away.
//Could I be walking higher?// //Could I be right beside her?// //Could I be walking higher?// //Could I be right beside her?//
Walking Higher By Tora
//I carry you with me,// //A ghost inside,// //And in these shattered arms//, //You're still alive.//
She was dead. Vejita sat, unmoving in the pouring rain, mud soaking through the knees of his blue spandex bodysuit as he knelt in the storm.
//I carry you with me,// //A holy shrine.// //And dogs and angels follow,// //Right behind.//
Vejita sighed, putting his head in his hands. He didn't think he could bear it anymore. The only person he'd ever loved, ever opened the doors to the unyielding wall made of steel and ice and hate that was around his mind and soul, was gone forever. Five years now. Five years of torment.
//Could I be walking higher?// //Could I be right beside her?//
He gathered his resolve looked up in front of him. A tall stone stood before him, small rivulets of water running down to seep into the carved letters "buruma briefs, loving wife and devoted mother". Feh. He had never liked the foolish engraving that had been put there. Gathering a small dot of his ki, he gently laid his finger on the marble that was as cold as the pouring rain and began his own carving.
//The bones they buried,// //Will feed the trees.// //But every word you,// //Ever spoke,// //Is still in me.//
He finished shortly after, letting the pounding rain wash away the heat of his ki and the excess stone that he had dug out. He read the new epitaph, written in delicate Saiya-jin script and set right under the original one, out loud. "Buruma no Oujo, Princess of the Saiya-jin".
//Could I be walking higher?// //Could I be right beside her?//
He stood slowly, his vision blurring from the rain as he inspected his work, stooping to run his fingers gently over the now clean cut characters, then drawing himself up again he walked calmly away.
//And I will feel for you in the music,// //And I will send that river home,// //And I will cry for you sometimes,// //When the night is down.//
His vision blurred again, though this time not from the pelting rain that now soaked him to the bone. Tears began to wind their way down his cheeks, though he said nothing. Maybe if he ignored the tears, they would go away.
//And I will raise my head up to the mountains,// //Talk to the birds and I'll// //Fly,// //'Cause the spirit lives on// //When the body dies.//
A slim hand rested on his shoulder, one full of hidden strength, and he turned slowly around. A face, so much like hers that he felt his chest tighten, with pale cheeks, a soft waterfall of azure hair framing them, and sapphire eyes, wide as the skies and deep as the seas of Chikyuu. "Trunks- Oniisan would have come if he didn't have to work today, you know, Poppa." She said, her blue eyes troubled. Vejita nodded, not trusting his voice. She looked so much like her. it tore him apart inside. Her eyes clouded when she noticed the thick trails of moisture on his cheeks, and his overbright eyes. Abruptly she stood in front of him, slipped her thin arms under his still ones hanging at his sides, and hugged him. He stiffened, almost by reflex, and then shifted arms that could crush mountains and wrapped them about her small, trembling form. He heard a dim, tearful whisper in his ear, "I miss her too, Poppa." As he rested his head on her shoulder and finally, finally, consciously allowed himself to cry, his world shuddering apart for a few moments, then coming to rest on the young woman, his daughter, one of the two things that still mattered to him now, in his arms. They stood like that for a moment that stretched out into an eternity, before finally relinquishing their holds on each other and, without words, slowly, slowly, walking away.
//Could I be walking higher?// //Could I be right beside her?// //Could I be walking higher?// //Could I be right beside her?//