A/N: Hey, this is a possible one-shot I made a while ago. It probably won't spawn into anything more but a lot of people wanted a Goku/Bulma story so here's a little something! Yes, I'm quite aware that I don't follow Dragon Ball to a "t" in this. I only watched snippets of it when I was younger so I don't know it too well.

Warnings: None.

Pairings: Goku/Bulma, slight Goku/Chi-Chi.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z or anything affiliated with it.

-MalRev

The Red String of Fate

There was only one myth that interested me.

From the get-go I was a questioning child; the type that never ran out of ceaseless inquiries about the world around them. I wanted to know why the sky was blue; why cars could move; why the tooth fairy was so interested in collecting stinky old teeth. My parents would give me the regular replies because they figured I was too young to care very much—'oh, it's magic, Bulma.' The world was supposed to be a mystical place but that didn't sit right with me.

I was a scientist, just like my father. After a few years of watching him tinkering with capsules, I began my own project. I'd discovered a beautiful orange ball in the basement that reflected all the colors of the rainbow and had two perfect stars engrained within. It inspired me to begin the project that would change my life forever—the Dragon Radar; the instrument that would either bring me a lifetime supply of strawberries or the perfect boyfriend. I wasn't sure which.

The day I finished it was one of the best moments of my life. I threw back my goggles and they clattered to the floor as tiny pinpricks showed up on the screen, signaling that all my hard work had been a success. At sixteen, the promise of having my wish granted seemed to be the greatest thing in the world. I was willing to drop everything to discover the Balls and, in hindsight, wish for the dumbest thing imaginable, but it seemed like a great idea to me at the time.

Dad was sitting in the living room smoking while mom sang to herself in the kitchen. I came flying out of the lab, proudly holding out the Dragon Radar for him to see. I desperately wanted his approval. I wanted to have brains and talent rather than relying on how I looked. Someday I wanted to inherit Capsule Corp. and bring it to new heights that no one ever would've—

"Very nice," he said, drawing his newspaper up to hide his face. "Is that what you've been playing with for all this time? Perhaps I can install in in one of my ships."

I wouldn't lie: his words cut like a knife. I straightened up and clicked off the Radar, mildly annoyed. "Dad, this is the key to discovering the Dragon Balls and having any wish I want granted. How cool is that? I can finally get a good boyfriend instead of dealing with all the dweebs in this town."

Mom gasped as she dried her hands off on a towel. "Oh, sweetie, that is so neat! Look at my little treasure hunter, going out to find her one true love. How adorable!"

"It's… it's not just a toy!" I said, cradling the Radar to my chest. "I'm telling you, when I find the Dragon Balls and make my wish…"

"Yes, yes, very nice," dad repeated offhandedly. "Run along now."

I can still remember how badly it hurt to be rejected. I'd poured my heart and soul into making the Dragon Radar, all in a vain attempt to gain my father's affection and respect. Humiliated, I jammed the Radar in my back pocket and grabbed a few capsules I'd need for the trip. It was summer vacation so I wasn't risking missing school. Not that I cared very much. I was way ahead of everyone else.

Finding the first Dragon Ball, the five star, didn't take me very long. I was ecstatic that my trip was going so well and checked the Radar to see where I was headed next. Mt. Paozu, the place where tons of dangerous wild animals lived and not a soul could get in my way. I grinned to myself and followed the signal through North Valley, soon winding up on a road toward my target.

A boy appeared in front of my car before I could scream in surprise.

I slammed hard into him, sending my vehicle twisting in a corkscrew pattern off the road. It finally came to rest on its side and I groggily emerged from the window, clutching my throbbing head. The Radar was still in one piece, safely tucked away in my jacket pocket. I had a strange cut across my wrist that was bleeding profusely, dripping onto the green grass in a stringent line.

He hit me over the head with the Power Pole. "Who're you? What's that strange thing you were in?"

As I raised my eyes to scream back at him, I saw the red line around his wrist. It was bleeding as well. His blood pooled in the same spot mine did.

"ARE YOU INSANE?!" I shrieked, leaping up to clock him over the head. "I could've killed you! Where are your parents you dumb kid?!"

It was the day I met Goku; my first time seeing his crazy black hair sticking out in fifty different directions and watching his black eyes sparkle with excitement at a new adventure. He was so small back then and only came up to my knee. I had no idea how much that would change over the years.

We argued back and forth for a while. Eventually I convinced him to show me his house, which was completely empty and hadn't been cleaned in quite a while. He was so cheerful and casual as he led me through the rubble to show off the treasure his grandpa left behind. My eyes lit up with excitement at the sight of the four star Dragon Ball. I'd stumbled upon it without even trying.

The orange reflected off Goku's deep black eyes. "This reminds me of all the good times with grandpa. He told me to cherish and protect it for the rest of my life."

Mom had taught me how to get what I wanted from boys a long time ago. I smirked and bent down to be on Goku's eye level, though I didn't catch his attention very well. Come to think of it, I never caught his eye. He was always focused on another woman no matter how poorly she treated him.

"If you give me that Dragon Ball," I said, toying with the hem of my shirt, "I'll give you a little peek."

"No! Who said I want to see your dirty old fanny, anyway?"

We clashed again. I punched Goku in the head, which, in retrospect, probably didn't help the mental problems he already had. He determinedly refused over and over again until I suggested that we start on our adventure together. It would be fun. I'd have a mini bodyguard and the Dragon Ball while Goku wouldn't have to sit at home alone all the time.

Our travels brought us to the ends of the Earth and back. We met Master Roshi and the future Z Fighters, who weren't always Goku's close friends. I watched in horror as he patted girls' crotches to figure out whether or not they were female. He trained hard and began to grow up. I stuck to my dream of wishing for a good boyfriend all the while Yamcha began to come out of his shell. We battled the Red Ribbon Army and Goku grew into the man I would spend my nights crying over.

The cuts on our wrists healed but the scars remained. Every once in a while they would break open, spilling blood onto the earth and twisting patterns on our skin. Goku carelessly licked the blood but I wondered what the scars meant. It wasn't a mere coincidence.

We met Chi-Chi. Back then she was prancing around in her elaborate costume, laying the groundwork for a relationship that would culminate in a marriage and two children. I knew they would wind up together. Yamcha and I wouldn't last but I could see the fire in Chi-Chi's eyes and the dumb trust in Goku's. He would follow her wherever she lead, only because she told him to.

Goku even agreed to marry her.

My on-and-off relationship with Yamcha was just that—on and off. We had to basis to center ourselves and my heart was always pining for another. I wasn't sure who. Goku was too young for me to lust after and I knew it wasn't Yamcha taking up so much space in my heart. I spent many nights gazing out into the darkness while he played with Puar. The scar on my wrist throbbed painfully during those days.

Our group met up for the 23rd Martial Arts Tournament that Goku spent three years training for. I was so excited I could barely contain myself—I adjusted my blue hair and fidgeted with my fingers, expecting to see a little boy approach us for some reason. But he had finally become a man. The small, naïve child I had begun the journey of a lifetime with grew into the savior of Earth.

It was raining. He tipped his umbrella and grinned. "Hey, guys! It's good to see all of you again."

Droplets of blood popped out from his scar when I ran forward to hug him around the waist. He laughed, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly until I finally let go. My heart was racing. I watched him talk to the others about Piccolo Jr. and realized with some satisfaction that it was him keeping me up at night. He grinned and chatted, oblivious to my intense stare. I was in love with him.

"How've you been, Bulma?" he asked.

We were walking toward the stadium. Goku had to go to the lockers to get ready for the tournament. He was about to battle some of the strongest people in the world and didn't even care.

"Just tinkering with stuff and dealing with Yamcha," I said. "I think I should've used that wish for a boyfriend after all."

He laughed again. He was always happy. "No way, I used that to fix the android! Don't worry, I'm sure Yamcha knows he's lucky. He's stubborn, like you."

"I am not stubborn!" I insisted, slapping his arm.

Goku rubbed his nose, grinning. "Mhm, sure ya aren't. It's good to see you haven't changed much, Bulma." He ruffled my hair and the grin disappeared, becoming serious. "You're perfect the way you are, even if you hit me over the head and yell a lot."

I melted.

We parted in the stadium. He shook hands with the others, including Master Roshi, whose eyes flickered between the two of us. Then he turned to me. He bit the inside of his cheek and suddenly scooped me off the ground in a hug, twirling me through the air. I buried my face in his neck and breathed in his scent—pine trees and burning wood. He smelled like summer; like the memories we had all collected together over the years. His strong arms wrapped around my waist.

The announcer called the combatants and it was over a second later. Goku set me on the ground carefully, offered a small smile, and left.

Chi-Chi fought him in the quarterfinals. I clenched my hands into fists while I watched her angrily insist that he promised to marry her when they were children. Who did she think she was? Kids made dumb promises all the time. Goku stood straight, wind rippling through his black hair. He looked torn.

His eyes roamed to mine in the stands and a sad smile spread across his face.

"No," I whispered.

The way Goku dropped to his knee looked like a defeated man giving his enemy the chance to cut off his head. He took Chi-Chi's hand in his and swallowed so hard his Adam's apple visibly bobbed. Master Roshi shook his head and I felt fingers squeeze my shoulder. Tears brimmed in my eyes.

"Will you marry me?" Goku asked.

Those are fragmented memories. Their engagement became old news when Piccolo Jr. went on a rampage that nearly killed Goku. I could only stare blankly as a hole was shot through his arm, rendering him nearly immobile. Chi-Chi screamed and thrashed at the sight of her future husband coughing up blood in defense of his friends. It was the personality trait I had fallen head over heels for. Goku never gave up. He always found a way.

All of us went to the wedding. I sat in still silence beside Yamcha, wrist pulsating painfully, while the man I had grown to care so deeply about married the wrong woman. She grabbed his arm and he scowled down at her, uncomfortable with the contact. When I clapped, my hands felt stiff.

It felt like I had lost Goku for good.

Night fell. Everyone was dancing and laughing at the heart of the party. I wandered off to the woods, casually strolling under the moonlight in my plain green dress. It was a nice night. The sky was clear, the air was brisk, and my tears were slowly drying. I closed my eyes and stopped to breathe in the smell of rainwater on the leaves. Mt. Paozu was beautiful.

"What're you doing out here?"

I turned to see Goku standing a few feet behind me, hands shoved in the pockets of his white suit. It looked sort of ridiculous, no doubt an idea of his new wife. I smiled a bit.

"Nothing," I said, "just out for a stroll. How does it feel to be married?"

"Weird. She touches me a lot and I don't think I like it." He looked up at me and his black eyes tore holes in my heart. "I like it better when you hug me, Bulma. Can you do it again?"

God, you have no idea how badly I want to.

I rolled my eyes. "No, Goku, I can't. You're married. You belong to Chi-Chi now."

"That's dumb," he grumbled. "I hate being married already. She's gonna sleep in my bed and eat all my food. Master Roshi says she knows how to cook but I don't want her hanging around me all the time. I wish we could all go on an adventure again to find the Dragon Balls. Those were the best times of my life, going wherever the wind took us."

Goku rubbed his wrist. I couldn't help but stare at him, gleaming like a beacon in the darkness. He wasn't just the hope of the universe, but my shining true love. Images of him kissing Chi-Chi on the altar brought stabbing pain to my chest. He was so tall and so mysterious. There were thoughts and ideas lurking in his simple mind that I wanted to hear all day and night.

We were only a few feet apart but he was worlds away.

"I should head home," I said.

When I walked past him, he grabbed my stinging wrist. "Wait. I don't want you to leave."

Neither of us moved. We stood side by side until Goku tightened his grip and turned me to face him. We gazed at each other through the thick shadows and the voices of our friends became distant. My heart beat in my ears as he wound his fingers through my hair and leaned down to press his lips to mine.

It wasn't the passionate, crazed kiss I had imagined. Love subdued us to small ministrations and curious hands wandered down bodies. His wedding ring was cold against my cheek and his mouth tasted like cake Chi-Chi had fed him an hour ago. Goku held me firmly against his solid body until I finally gained the self-control to pull away; to feel guilt and know what we did was wrong.

"That's bad," I said, wiping his saliva from my mouth. "You can't do that Goku."

He took a step closer and I was in his arms again, the only place in the world I felt safe. "Please don't go. I did what I thought was right. I promised her but I promise that I love you. Please, Bulma, I'm begging you to stay by my side, even if everyone else can't see."

"You're making this way harder than it needs to be. Go back to the party. Chi-Chi is a great woman and I'm sure you two will be happy together."

"But it scares me when she touches me," he said miserably. He kissed the top of my head. "I'll visit you every day, and—"

"Goku. Bulma wants you to go back."

Master Roshi was standing between two gnarled trees, sunglasses flashing. Goku tightened his grip on me before relenting and slouching away with his hands in his pockets. He nodded politely to his Master and turned to stare at me longingly once more. I watched him leave with tears in my eyes.

Roshi raised an eyebrow. "It's never too late, Bulma. I'd hate to see a pretty girl go her whole life regretting something so trivial."

"I know," I whispered. "I know."