Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ or the Sandman. I don't currently own a
hotdog either, but I guess that's just how life goes.
A/N: this is. . . REALLY random. And strange. And there's TONS of holes in it (partly cause I haven't actually seen the whole series yet, but mostly it's just because I suck at detail) so, uhm, sorry about that. yes, I think that's about it. (try to) enjoy!
Oh yea, this takes place some time after the Buu saga, and it's rated PG13 for a few choice words from our favorite saiyan prince
Note: ~ thought ~
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------
Death:
Mostly they aren't too keen to see me.
They fear the sunless lands.
But they enter your realm each night without fear
Dream:
And I am far more terrible than you, my sister.
- Neil Gaiman, Preludes and Nocturnes (Book 1 of The Sandman series)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------
"Vegeta."
~ Nnh, shut up. . . ~
"Vegeta."
~ Damnit woman, I'm trying to sleep! ~
"Veggykins."
His eyes snapped open in annoyance, and he sat upright to glare at his blue-haired mate.
"I told you not to call me that idiotic. . . "
He trailed off upon recognizing his surroundings- Bulma's lab. More specifically, a glass containment chamber in Bulma's lab. That was odd. . . he had gone to sleep in their bedroom. He was sure of it. And even if his training had exhausted him enough to make him become delusional and accidentally fall asleep somewhere else completely, he was be fairly certain it wouldn't be in a glass containment chamber in Bulma's lab. So what the hell was he doing here then?
"What the hell am I doing in here?!"
"Honestly Vegeta, there's no need to yell. You're going to wake up Trunks."
"I could care less if the brat gets his beauty sleep. . . " he hissed, eyes narrowing in anger as he stared out through the glass barrier. "You will let me out. Now. And then you will explain yourself before I blow this whole fucking place to hell." His voice was dangerously quiet, harsh emphasis placed on each word.
The heiress of Capsule Corp. had never taken too kindly to threats. In all the years that Vegeta had known her, she never once backed down from him. She'd yell, throw things, and even make her own threats regarding the gravity machine. . . and some part of him respected her for that. At least, he figured that he did. . . in some strange, twisted way.
But this time was different. The look on her face wasn't fear, of course.but it wasn't anger or annoyance either. It was pity.
She pitied him.
The earth woman with a power level that wouldn't even compare to a shoe on his old home planet, was standing in front of him, the prince of all saiyans, and pitying him.
She caught his heated glare for just a second, and lowered her eyes to the colorful lights and buttons flashing on the control panel attached to the chamber. Sighing quietly she ran her fingers over the keypad, studying the data that came up on the small screen beside it.
Vegeta should have been furious. He should have blasted through the glass prison and gone through with his threat the moment he saw the expression on Bulma's face. He had never tolerated such insolence before, and he was not about to start. But something about that pity set off warning signals in his brain. There was a particular uneasiness about the whole situation, but it wasn't just that. Something was wrong.
His previous anger seeped out of him, leaving the saiyan feeling empty and vaguely afraid. At least with rage there was something to hold on to. You had an enemy, he was to be destroyed, and rage fueled your power. It was simple. . . he died, and you lived.
This time there was no enemy, no battle. Only a woman he thought cared for him, and the vague fear.
"I'm sorry. . . "
She didn't bother to look up as she said it, her head still bent busily over the keypad. When she spoke again her eyes were still glued to her work.
"You know, Vegeta, you're such a jerk. . . always making fun of how weak humans are. But you're right. We're way too weak to defend ourselves from monsters like Frieza and Cell and the androids. Yamcha and Tien are strong, but they can't even compare to Goku."
"What does Kakkarot have to do with this?!" he demanded harshly, the old rivalry between them fueling itself into jealousy.
How dare she change the subject and start speaking of his rival? She either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him, because she paused only for a moment before continuing.
"He's a hero. Even when he was just a little kid, his whole life was to help people in trouble. Something YOU would never understand. But then again, you weren't supposed to."
"What are you babbling. . . "
"All heroes need a villain, Vegeta," she interrupted in a low voice, her fingers ceasing their rapid movement over the glowing keys. "Not ones that crash onto their planet and try to destroy it. Those are just part of the job. They need someone who hates THEM. . . who will keep them on their toes by fighting for personal victory. And fighting is what you saiyans live for, isn't it? Goku needed a villain like that, and who else but the genius daughter of the president of Capsule Corp. to give him one?"
"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped violently, trying to cover up the terrifying realization dawning upon him by raising his voice, denying her words. She couldn't possibly be implying what he thought she was.
"It sounded easy enough, but where would I start? Should it be male or female? A saiyan, or some other race? The easiest thing to do was take everything that Goku was and make the exact opposite. Mean where he was nice, perpetually pissed off where he was always cheerful, selfish where he was generous, egotistical where he was modest, royalty where he was low class, impulsive and hot-tempered where he was rational and calm. . . "
The corner of her mouth twitched up in a sort of half-grin, and a dark chuckle escaped her lips.
"Short where he was tall. But I decided to keep it in the same race. It would be easier for them to relate that way. They would both understand the thrill of battle, have the same bloodlust."
"SHUT UP!" he roared at last, slamming his fist into the wall. Somewhere at the back of his mind the fact that the chamber was strong enough to contain him made perfect sense. . . Bulma always thought these things through, after all. What kind of genius would she be if she didn't? But the fact that there wasn't even a dent on the smooth surface just served to enrage him further.
"IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP, GOD HELP ME I WILL BURN THIS FUCKING PLACE TO THE GROUND, WITH YOU IN THE BRAT IN IT!"
As always she held her ground, but this time it was because she knew he couldn't do a thing in there. He was helpless, because she had planned it that way.
"I made up your family, your past. . . everything. It's all about the little things, like that furry little animal one of the servant boys kept with him- what was its name, Kuri?- that you made him give to you after threatening to have his head cut off with a rusty blade. Remember that? And the time when you got angry with your father and ripped up nearly all the documents in his office. But I only came up with a few.I didn't really know much about how you saiyans lived. Most of your memories are from the DNA I extracted. I could've never dreamed up the whole Frieza thing."
"DNA. . . " he repeated tonelessly, his voice dead.
By now Vegeta was too numb to argue- what she was saying was true. There was no possible way she could have known all these tiny details about his life. The only people who knew of them were on his planet when it was destroyed, and needless to day, were long dead.
"One of them was Goku, of course. That took forever.you know how he is with needles. But that wasn't as bad as working with Radditz's dead body. Ugh, taking the scouter was one thing, but I actually had to touch his skin. . . "
She shuddered at the memory, feeling the bile rising in her throat from just remembering the smell.
"And I did some fancy science stuff and there you were!"
"But Nappa. . . "
"You killed him before Goku came, remember? The whole fight with the saibamen never happened."
"I got into my pod and went back to my planet," he said, a hint of desperation in his rough voice. "How could I have been received by a planet where I never existed?"
"You passed out and I.well, I put you in kind of a coma."
"It was just a dream. . . "
"A little clichéd, but yea. It was a dream. And a pretty damn good one, too!"
He remained silent.
"So Kakkarot and the others. . . they knew. The whole time they knew what I really was."
"Of course Goku had to know. He didn't like it at first but after awhile he began thinking of you as a real person. I don't think it made any difference to him, really. And as for everyone else. . . I just told them you were working for Frieza, and they were content with that. Just another bad guy for our hero to defeat."
"That's why you took me in. . . " the flame-haired saiyan realized, "To keep an eye on me. To make sure I didn't do anything I wasn't supposed to."
She shrugged, the same half-smile appearing on her lips.
"It didn't really work too well. I thought I knew everything about you. . . I mean, I should have. But then you took on this life of your own. Pretty impressive. And then you turned into a good guy, which was even more impressive. I didn't plan that at all. . . I figured, when you got out of hand, I would just get rid of you. Or something."
A vivid memory of his standoff with Majin Buu came to him, and he could remember the unfamiliar feeling of the human emotions he had always scorned to be their biggest weakness.
Love. Affection.
Perhaps not the unrealistic kind portrayed in movies and TV shows, or anything that he would croon a disgustingly sappy ballad about, but it was there. Caring for people other than himself. And strangely enough, in his final moments there had been no regrets.
"The brat. Is he. . . ?"
Bulma blinked and looked away, looking slightly ashamed as she did so.
"No. He's Yamcha's. But neither of them knew, and you were the one who was around when he was growing up. . . Two weeks after I found out I was pregnant, I had the top doctors take the fetus out, inject some saiyan genes into it, and put it back. . . in secret, of course. So there wouldn't be any doubt whose he was."
She pressed a final button and the screen beeped at her. She looked at it for a second, then looked up.
"Trunks really does love you. And I really did like you, you know. I mean, why shouldn't I? You were my creation, after all."
"A creation. A plaything for Kakkarot." He let out a harsh laugh, sounding like a bark. "Of course. Its always been about that brain- damaged fool."
Vegeta looked down at the panel where the screen was still beeping, mesmerized by the flashing green light. He then glanced around, and for the first time noticed the wispy strands of light blue smoke curling around him.
And then he knew.
It was over.
"You don't need me anymore."
The scientist nodded, swallowing hard and blinking rapidly to hold back tears. She took a deep breath, only to have her breath hitch, and let out a noise that sounded strangely like a wounded puppy. Her hand instinctively clapped over her mouth and stayed there as silent tears began rolling down her face.
And despite everything she had just told him, and finding out that he was no more real than any character in those video games that his son and his best friend Goten were so fond of. . . despite all that, now it was Vegeta who felt pity.
That woman had done what she thought necessary to make their Goku happy- giving him the most complex and well-crafted challenge that he could ask for. He would be happy, Bulma would be happy, all his friends would be happy, and, hell, the whole goddamn WORLD would be happy.
And it wasn't as if this new "toy" would be real.
So idealistic. . . it was disgusting. But all humans were idealists, up to some point. She wasn't any different.
The earthling that he had presumed to care for all those years was standing in front of him, hand held firmly over her mouth, crying silently over the destruction of her own creation by her own hands.
It was heartbreaking.
"Woman, stop crying," he said gruffly, stepping towards the glass and placing a gloved hand on its surface. It felt surprisingly warm.
"I. . . I'm sorry V-Vegeta. . . I didn't think I'd have to do this s-so soon. But there's peace now, and. . . and taking care of you costs so much. . . " Her voice was thick with tears, and muffled by her hand still covering her mouth.
"And you've been one of so long, that if you were around any longer. . . "
She stopped and shook her head, but Vegeta understood. If he were to stay among them even for only a little while longer, then she would forget what he really was. He would become human (figuratively speaking) in her eyes and then. . . then she wouldn't ever be able to end it. End him. It would become murder, whereas right now it would only be shutting down a machine.
If he was only an artificial life, then terminating his existence wouldn't technically be death. Like he said, he was just a dream . . . and dreams don't die. Bulma could handle erasing a dream. She couldn't handle erasing a life.
Human hearts are so fragile.
"And the br. . . Trunks. What are you going to tell him."
She slowly lowered her hand and hastily wiped her tears away. Several deep breaths, and even her voice was almost back to normal, if not for the slight wavering.
"That you went off to spar again, and some bad guys showed up. And they were too strong for even you. . . He'll remember you as what he always saw you as. Goku wasn't the only hero, you know."
A faint smile ghosted over the man's lips, a mixture of amusement and pride. Strange, that that comforted him.
"No. Tell him the truth. The boy deserves it."
She shook her head no, but he bared his teeth and nearly growled out, "You WILL tell him. He won't be reduced to some ignorant boy."
When Bulma made no reply he sighed and placed his other hand on the smooth surface, leaning forward so that his forehead was also resting against it. Fiery onyx eyes looked deep into sky blue ones.
Then they slowly slid closed.
She slowly walked forward until she was almost touching the chamber, leaned down, and placed a light kiss on the what should have been his forehead had the glass not been there. He smirked, as though he knew exactly what she was doing. And perhaps he did.
"It won't hurt," she said timidly, her mouth so close to the glass that the words left a small circle of steam. "I promise."
He snorted, still keeping his eyes closed.
"Don't be stupid woman. I am still saiyan."
"Something you've never stopped reminding me of," she replied, fondness and grim amusement in her voice.
"Only because it was obviously too much for your tiny human brain to remember," he shot back, the same old Vegeta, even when he was dying. But there was affection hidden there, somewhere under the harsh words. Even if she had never intended it, it was there.
And Bulma Briefs, mother of Trunks Briefs, daughter of the founder of dino-caps, long time companion of the legendary Son Goku, and the creator of earth's former enemy turned unwilling champion. . . Bulma briefs was content for those to be his last words uttered.
She couldn't have said it better herself.
A/N: this is. . . REALLY random. And strange. And there's TONS of holes in it (partly cause I haven't actually seen the whole series yet, but mostly it's just because I suck at detail) so, uhm, sorry about that. yes, I think that's about it. (try to) enjoy!
Oh yea, this takes place some time after the Buu saga, and it's rated PG13 for a few choice words from our favorite saiyan prince
Note: ~ thought ~
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------
Death:
Mostly they aren't too keen to see me.
They fear the sunless lands.
But they enter your realm each night without fear
Dream:
And I am far more terrible than you, my sister.
- Neil Gaiman, Preludes and Nocturnes (Book 1 of The Sandman series)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------
"Vegeta."
~ Nnh, shut up. . . ~
"Vegeta."
~ Damnit woman, I'm trying to sleep! ~
"Veggykins."
His eyes snapped open in annoyance, and he sat upright to glare at his blue-haired mate.
"I told you not to call me that idiotic. . . "
He trailed off upon recognizing his surroundings- Bulma's lab. More specifically, a glass containment chamber in Bulma's lab. That was odd. . . he had gone to sleep in their bedroom. He was sure of it. And even if his training had exhausted him enough to make him become delusional and accidentally fall asleep somewhere else completely, he was be fairly certain it wouldn't be in a glass containment chamber in Bulma's lab. So what the hell was he doing here then?
"What the hell am I doing in here?!"
"Honestly Vegeta, there's no need to yell. You're going to wake up Trunks."
"I could care less if the brat gets his beauty sleep. . . " he hissed, eyes narrowing in anger as he stared out through the glass barrier. "You will let me out. Now. And then you will explain yourself before I blow this whole fucking place to hell." His voice was dangerously quiet, harsh emphasis placed on each word.
The heiress of Capsule Corp. had never taken too kindly to threats. In all the years that Vegeta had known her, she never once backed down from him. She'd yell, throw things, and even make her own threats regarding the gravity machine. . . and some part of him respected her for that. At least, he figured that he did. . . in some strange, twisted way.
But this time was different. The look on her face wasn't fear, of course.but it wasn't anger or annoyance either. It was pity.
She pitied him.
The earth woman with a power level that wouldn't even compare to a shoe on his old home planet, was standing in front of him, the prince of all saiyans, and pitying him.
She caught his heated glare for just a second, and lowered her eyes to the colorful lights and buttons flashing on the control panel attached to the chamber. Sighing quietly she ran her fingers over the keypad, studying the data that came up on the small screen beside it.
Vegeta should have been furious. He should have blasted through the glass prison and gone through with his threat the moment he saw the expression on Bulma's face. He had never tolerated such insolence before, and he was not about to start. But something about that pity set off warning signals in his brain. There was a particular uneasiness about the whole situation, but it wasn't just that. Something was wrong.
His previous anger seeped out of him, leaving the saiyan feeling empty and vaguely afraid. At least with rage there was something to hold on to. You had an enemy, he was to be destroyed, and rage fueled your power. It was simple. . . he died, and you lived.
This time there was no enemy, no battle. Only a woman he thought cared for him, and the vague fear.
"I'm sorry. . . "
She didn't bother to look up as she said it, her head still bent busily over the keypad. When she spoke again her eyes were still glued to her work.
"You know, Vegeta, you're such a jerk. . . always making fun of how weak humans are. But you're right. We're way too weak to defend ourselves from monsters like Frieza and Cell and the androids. Yamcha and Tien are strong, but they can't even compare to Goku."
"What does Kakkarot have to do with this?!" he demanded harshly, the old rivalry between them fueling itself into jealousy.
How dare she change the subject and start speaking of his rival? She either didn't hear him or chose to ignore him, because she paused only for a moment before continuing.
"He's a hero. Even when he was just a little kid, his whole life was to help people in trouble. Something YOU would never understand. But then again, you weren't supposed to."
"What are you babbling. . . "
"All heroes need a villain, Vegeta," she interrupted in a low voice, her fingers ceasing their rapid movement over the glowing keys. "Not ones that crash onto their planet and try to destroy it. Those are just part of the job. They need someone who hates THEM. . . who will keep them on their toes by fighting for personal victory. And fighting is what you saiyans live for, isn't it? Goku needed a villain like that, and who else but the genius daughter of the president of Capsule Corp. to give him one?"
"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped violently, trying to cover up the terrifying realization dawning upon him by raising his voice, denying her words. She couldn't possibly be implying what he thought she was.
"It sounded easy enough, but where would I start? Should it be male or female? A saiyan, or some other race? The easiest thing to do was take everything that Goku was and make the exact opposite. Mean where he was nice, perpetually pissed off where he was always cheerful, selfish where he was generous, egotistical where he was modest, royalty where he was low class, impulsive and hot-tempered where he was rational and calm. . . "
The corner of her mouth twitched up in a sort of half-grin, and a dark chuckle escaped her lips.
"Short where he was tall. But I decided to keep it in the same race. It would be easier for them to relate that way. They would both understand the thrill of battle, have the same bloodlust."
"SHUT UP!" he roared at last, slamming his fist into the wall. Somewhere at the back of his mind the fact that the chamber was strong enough to contain him made perfect sense. . . Bulma always thought these things through, after all. What kind of genius would she be if she didn't? But the fact that there wasn't even a dent on the smooth surface just served to enrage him further.
"IF YOU DON'T SHUT UP, GOD HELP ME I WILL BURN THIS FUCKING PLACE TO THE GROUND, WITH YOU IN THE BRAT IN IT!"
As always she held her ground, but this time it was because she knew he couldn't do a thing in there. He was helpless, because she had planned it that way.
"I made up your family, your past. . . everything. It's all about the little things, like that furry little animal one of the servant boys kept with him- what was its name, Kuri?- that you made him give to you after threatening to have his head cut off with a rusty blade. Remember that? And the time when you got angry with your father and ripped up nearly all the documents in his office. But I only came up with a few.I didn't really know much about how you saiyans lived. Most of your memories are from the DNA I extracted. I could've never dreamed up the whole Frieza thing."
"DNA. . . " he repeated tonelessly, his voice dead.
By now Vegeta was too numb to argue- what she was saying was true. There was no possible way she could have known all these tiny details about his life. The only people who knew of them were on his planet when it was destroyed, and needless to day, were long dead.
"One of them was Goku, of course. That took forever.you know how he is with needles. But that wasn't as bad as working with Radditz's dead body. Ugh, taking the scouter was one thing, but I actually had to touch his skin. . . "
She shuddered at the memory, feeling the bile rising in her throat from just remembering the smell.
"And I did some fancy science stuff and there you were!"
"But Nappa. . . "
"You killed him before Goku came, remember? The whole fight with the saibamen never happened."
"I got into my pod and went back to my planet," he said, a hint of desperation in his rough voice. "How could I have been received by a planet where I never existed?"
"You passed out and I.well, I put you in kind of a coma."
"It was just a dream. . . "
"A little clichéd, but yea. It was a dream. And a pretty damn good one, too!"
He remained silent.
"So Kakkarot and the others. . . they knew. The whole time they knew what I really was."
"Of course Goku had to know. He didn't like it at first but after awhile he began thinking of you as a real person. I don't think it made any difference to him, really. And as for everyone else. . . I just told them you were working for Frieza, and they were content with that. Just another bad guy for our hero to defeat."
"That's why you took me in. . . " the flame-haired saiyan realized, "To keep an eye on me. To make sure I didn't do anything I wasn't supposed to."
She shrugged, the same half-smile appearing on her lips.
"It didn't really work too well. I thought I knew everything about you. . . I mean, I should have. But then you took on this life of your own. Pretty impressive. And then you turned into a good guy, which was even more impressive. I didn't plan that at all. . . I figured, when you got out of hand, I would just get rid of you. Or something."
A vivid memory of his standoff with Majin Buu came to him, and he could remember the unfamiliar feeling of the human emotions he had always scorned to be their biggest weakness.
Love. Affection.
Perhaps not the unrealistic kind portrayed in movies and TV shows, or anything that he would croon a disgustingly sappy ballad about, but it was there. Caring for people other than himself. And strangely enough, in his final moments there had been no regrets.
"The brat. Is he. . . ?"
Bulma blinked and looked away, looking slightly ashamed as she did so.
"No. He's Yamcha's. But neither of them knew, and you were the one who was around when he was growing up. . . Two weeks after I found out I was pregnant, I had the top doctors take the fetus out, inject some saiyan genes into it, and put it back. . . in secret, of course. So there wouldn't be any doubt whose he was."
She pressed a final button and the screen beeped at her. She looked at it for a second, then looked up.
"Trunks really does love you. And I really did like you, you know. I mean, why shouldn't I? You were my creation, after all."
"A creation. A plaything for Kakkarot." He let out a harsh laugh, sounding like a bark. "Of course. Its always been about that brain- damaged fool."
Vegeta looked down at the panel where the screen was still beeping, mesmerized by the flashing green light. He then glanced around, and for the first time noticed the wispy strands of light blue smoke curling around him.
And then he knew.
It was over.
"You don't need me anymore."
The scientist nodded, swallowing hard and blinking rapidly to hold back tears. She took a deep breath, only to have her breath hitch, and let out a noise that sounded strangely like a wounded puppy. Her hand instinctively clapped over her mouth and stayed there as silent tears began rolling down her face.
And despite everything she had just told him, and finding out that he was no more real than any character in those video games that his son and his best friend Goten were so fond of. . . despite all that, now it was Vegeta who felt pity.
That woman had done what she thought necessary to make their Goku happy- giving him the most complex and well-crafted challenge that he could ask for. He would be happy, Bulma would be happy, all his friends would be happy, and, hell, the whole goddamn WORLD would be happy.
And it wasn't as if this new "toy" would be real.
So idealistic. . . it was disgusting. But all humans were idealists, up to some point. She wasn't any different.
The earthling that he had presumed to care for all those years was standing in front of him, hand held firmly over her mouth, crying silently over the destruction of her own creation by her own hands.
It was heartbreaking.
"Woman, stop crying," he said gruffly, stepping towards the glass and placing a gloved hand on its surface. It felt surprisingly warm.
"I. . . I'm sorry V-Vegeta. . . I didn't think I'd have to do this s-so soon. But there's peace now, and. . . and taking care of you costs so much. . . " Her voice was thick with tears, and muffled by her hand still covering her mouth.
"And you've been one of so long, that if you were around any longer. . . "
She stopped and shook her head, but Vegeta understood. If he were to stay among them even for only a little while longer, then she would forget what he really was. He would become human (figuratively speaking) in her eyes and then. . . then she wouldn't ever be able to end it. End him. It would become murder, whereas right now it would only be shutting down a machine.
If he was only an artificial life, then terminating his existence wouldn't technically be death. Like he said, he was just a dream . . . and dreams don't die. Bulma could handle erasing a dream. She couldn't handle erasing a life.
Human hearts are so fragile.
"And the br. . . Trunks. What are you going to tell him."
She slowly lowered her hand and hastily wiped her tears away. Several deep breaths, and even her voice was almost back to normal, if not for the slight wavering.
"That you went off to spar again, and some bad guys showed up. And they were too strong for even you. . . He'll remember you as what he always saw you as. Goku wasn't the only hero, you know."
A faint smile ghosted over the man's lips, a mixture of amusement and pride. Strange, that that comforted him.
"No. Tell him the truth. The boy deserves it."
She shook her head no, but he bared his teeth and nearly growled out, "You WILL tell him. He won't be reduced to some ignorant boy."
When Bulma made no reply he sighed and placed his other hand on the smooth surface, leaning forward so that his forehead was also resting against it. Fiery onyx eyes looked deep into sky blue ones.
Then they slowly slid closed.
She slowly walked forward until she was almost touching the chamber, leaned down, and placed a light kiss on the what should have been his forehead had the glass not been there. He smirked, as though he knew exactly what she was doing. And perhaps he did.
"It won't hurt," she said timidly, her mouth so close to the glass that the words left a small circle of steam. "I promise."
He snorted, still keeping his eyes closed.
"Don't be stupid woman. I am still saiyan."
"Something you've never stopped reminding me of," she replied, fondness and grim amusement in her voice.
"Only because it was obviously too much for your tiny human brain to remember," he shot back, the same old Vegeta, even when he was dying. But there was affection hidden there, somewhere under the harsh words. Even if she had never intended it, it was there.
And Bulma Briefs, mother of Trunks Briefs, daughter of the founder of dino-caps, long time companion of the legendary Son Goku, and the creator of earth's former enemy turned unwilling champion. . . Bulma briefs was content for those to be his last words uttered.
She couldn't have said it better herself.