Author's Notes: A short Yamucha fic that came to mind while I was just lazing around one day. Yes, the story is in first person, Bulma's point of view to be exact, but the letter is from Yamucha's view. The setting is somewhat sorrowful, taking place after Yamucha dies of old age.
Warnings: I really cannot think of anything really worth mentioning, maybe extreme angst, but that's all.
Obligatory Disclaimer: I do not own Yamucha, Bulma, or Vegeta. Dragonball Z is property of Akira Toriyama and copyrighted to a dozen other people.
Reminiscent of the past
Reluctantly I open the door of the rundown apartment. To tell you the truth, I would prefer not to be here, but I owe it to him, Yamucha, as old lovers do. A wave of emotions and memories wash over me before I can even take one step into the surprisingly clean interior of the dwelling. Odd, when I was with him it reminded me more of a garbage pit then a home, but then again, we all change over time.
Quietly, I make precariously make my way through the now silent walls of what was once the home of one of the loudest men I'd ever know. Or perhaps I didn't know him, there's a lot you learn about somebody after you say good-bye.
I shiver slightly; the silence bothers me. I better get started, this shouldn't take longer then three hours or so; Yamucha never did own much furniture. I begin with the kitchen, removing old food boxes and other items from the cupboard. It irritates me somewhat to see that nobody bothered to clean up the cereal bowl Yamucha had been eating from when the heart attack struck. In a way its I feel its disrespectful, but then again I can't blame the others for not coming with me. Not only did I persuade them to let me take care of it myself, but I guess they, like myself, were too spooked to return to the scene. I guess we were all a little spooked by the sudden loss of Yamucha, of all of us to die, I don't think anyone expected him to leave first. Perhaps Son-kun or my Vegeta, stubborn fighters that they were, would die in battle, or perhaps Kame-sennin, that old pervert, would finally leave this world, and us ladies, in peace. Never Yamucha though, and not in such an unfitting manner. A heart attack, one brought upon by the same virus which ended the life of Son Goku in Mirai no Trunks timeline.
I can't help but shiver again, Dende there are so memories left in these whitewashed walls. To keep myself from thinking too much, I throw my entire being into cleaning the kitchen. Scrubbing floors and pantries, scouring the sink, and removing the few items left in the fridge. Too little, eerily few items left. It's almost as if Yamucha knew his time was coming.
The idea of keeping any of the food or furniture for my own use doesn't even enter my mind, it seems too much like a travesty against his memory, as if by eating or using what was left of his life would be betraying him further. Instead, it all goes to garbage dumpster located outside. Let the creatures outside benefit from it. After all, was not Yamucha's main goal in this life to protect and promote all life on Earth?
I continue throughout the house, methodically cleaning and clearing each room in the house with only the occasional thought or comment about Yamucha and his life. That is, until I reach the bedroom. To even enter the room would mean to face some of the most emotionally marking moments of our life together, some wonderful and bliss filled, others sorrowful and angry, filled with betrayal.
It is that room that I lost my innocence, my virginity, in a fit of passion with who I thought I would spend the rest of my life with. Little did I know how things would turn out after the arrival of Radditz and the other Saiya-jins. Don't get me wrong, I've never regretted sleeping with Yamucha once in my entire life. At the time it happened, I realize now that we were in love. The only problem was that it was just youthful love.
Our relationship was no fairy tale romance, though. It had its ups and downs, there were times were he cheated on me, and I in turn betrayed him. In the end, this room would also be the room we broke up in, three weeks before Trunks was conceived. It's no small wonder that the argument was loosely based on Vegeta and my interactions with him. Yamucha felt we were becoming too close and wanted me to kick Vegeta out. I, of course, denied these charges in a furious clash of wills. It was not as though he had reason to be suspicious, at the time I had been spending extra time around Vegeta and once I even kissed him. So, you see, I was not completely innocent in these matters either, but where did he get the right to come off as Mister Innocent in that conversation?
As the graphic details of the breakup return to me, my hesitance grows, and I take a few steps back from his room telling myself somebody else can take care of it. My conscience catches up with me, though. No, this is something I had to do, I truly do owe it to him. After all, I wasn't there when he died, I was at home taking care of the latest addition to my family, my daughter Bra. Did I mention he was there when Bra was born? Yep, as unbelievable as it sounds, he came to the births of both my children, despite the fact that they weren't his own. For Dende's sake, Vegeta wasn't even there for Bra's birth, much less Trunks. Yes, I owe him big time.
Finally gaining the courage to enter, I push the door open and walk in. Nothing. I have to laugh at my own foolishness. What was I expecting? His ghost to jump out at me?
Quietly, I make my way through the mess of his room. Obviously he was still a messy person in the true heart of things. I have to smile. Indeed, all things do change, but some things always stay the same. Piling junk and personal items into the corners for later cleanup, I then turn to the bed and hesitate slightly. They are just blankets, should I remove them? The decision is yes, but I'm not sure. Something honorable inside of me tells me that allowing whoever else rents this apartment to use these blankets would be wrong. Only this time the blankets go to goodwill and not into the garbage. If there was anything about Yamucha I loved, and perhaps still loved, most of all, despite all else, was his giving spirit. He, once, literally took his shirt off and gave it to a homeless person on the street. Trust me when I say, Vegeta will never be seen giving his shirt to anyone.
As I slip the covers off the bed, something underneath catches my eye. Despite the condition of the rest of the room, the space underneath the bed is surprisingly clean. I pull it out, and my very breath is caught in my throat at the sight of it. It's not much, only a crudely constructed box with the word "Memories" inscribed on it, but what is taped on the front of the box is what catches my attention. It's a picture of the two of us, together, when were a just a young couple, so very long ago.
Without thinking, I move to open it, but I'm stopped as I realize the consequences of doing so. This is, after all, Yamucha's box, something he obviously never wanted to show me. Or perhaps, never had to the chance to. Do I really want to open it and see what mysterious items lay beyond its plainly made front, or should I simply leave it closed and allow whatever secrets it holds to follow its owner to the grave.
My curiosity is overwhelming though, and it outweighs my honorable side. Slowly I open the box hoping that whatever lies ahead is something I won't regret seeing. What greets my eyes is something I never expected to see from Yamucha, but, in a way, I guess I should have.
Pictures, letters, old phone message tapes, anything and everything we ever shared. He even has an old ketchup package from what used to be our favorite restaurant on outings. At the bottom there's something unrecognizable, tied with a white string. Carefully, for fear it might just fall apart from age, I retrieve it from its dark chasm of dust. Gently brushing away the dust and mites, I then proceed to read what is written on the outside. There are only two words: "Uncompassionate Fate."
Somewhat befuddled at the meaning of these words, I advance forward, untying the strings. As soon as the letter falls open, something small and shiny falls out and falls to the ground, bouncing off someplace. I'll retrieve it later, what's in the letter is far more interesting to my eye. Inside, there is a full page letter, which I find myself beginning to read before I can even stop myself. Dende, I hope I won't regret this.
In essence, to somebody and nobody at all,
Hello, how are you? Good, I'm doing fine. How are things going with Trunks? Is Vegeta proving to be a good spouse? Boy, I sound fake don't I? Perhaps it is because I'm so bad at writing these kinds of things, at actually expressing my feelings. Asking about your family is not why I began this letter, perhaps I should get to my point, although I'm not quite sure what that is, even as I write this letter.
I lied. About being fine that is. I miss you, perhaps more then you'll ever know. I'm sorry for all those times I cheated and lied to you behind your back; I realize now how stupid I was.
About the girls, I don't know what to say. Sometimes I don't understand myself why I do what I do. Perhaps its because I'm afraid. Afraid of what I'm not quite sure of yet, maybe it's a fear of being alone. Or possibly I was trying to prove to myself and you that I wasn't as dependent on your love as we thought. Dende I was so wrong, it's only now that I've lost you for good, that I realize the full depth of my stupidity.
Yeah, that's right, the almighty Yamucha is admitting he's stupid. Actually, the better word for this situation is probably loser, for I am one of the highest kinds. From the day I was born I was bound for being a loser, I can see that now. I'm only an expendable junkie, rather like a walk-on in a movie, that is simply used for the time he'd needed and then thrown out like an old wash cloth when the star, in our case Vegeta, comes on.
The thing is, when I was with you, I didn't feel like a loser anymore. In fact, I felt like Kind of the World, champion fighter, and world class citizen. I felt unbreakable when I was with you, invincible. As if there was no weapon that could possibly knock our barriers down. Except one, that is, and her name is Destiny.
In a way, I'm happy for you. Your with the man you claim you love and feel destined for, and you have a beautiful son, and I must comment that he is beautiful Bulma, and just so much more. But I can't help but feel that, in a way, he should have been mine. When I first saw you holding him your arms, Vegeta scowling at your side, you have no idea how much it broke me. It was as if a dam broke within me, and, if you remember, I left as quickly as I came. Vegeta probably thinks he intimidated me, but the truth is I fear him in no way. After all, he's already taken the one thing that meant anything to me, what more can he do? Kill me? I'd thank him then, it would be a nice release from the pain I was feeling. But back to Trunks. You remember when I the first one there at the hospital when he was born? Or when he said his first words? How about when Cell killed Mirai no Trunks? I was the first one to rush to his side, to hold back tears as I cradled his dying head in my lap. I was there, the entire time, I was there. You would simply brush it off as I was jealous, and that I was trying to win you back in some way. But that's not true. I was simply trying to hold onto what I had left of you: a fatherly bond with Trunks.
Sometimes I'm glad you had Trunks in your arms that day, it saved me from a much greater pain: the humiliation of you rejecting my wedding proposal. Yeah, you heard me, I wanted to marry you that day. Good thing little Trunks was there to "save the day," eh?
But I'm babbling, you probably don't want to hear this, after all, you are married to a much better man then myself, right? It's time for me to close this letter, I can't go any further. The point of this letter was a good-bye, I realize that now. So I'll say it now, good-bye…To life, to love, to the only reason I had for being. I say good-bye to friendship, to happiness, to joy, to being a father. That is the one that hurts most of all, for now I realize, that I will never find another one just like you. You were a special one, and I let you go. Even if I tried, no woman would ever fit the description, because I'd always compare them to what I had. It is because of this that I will never be a father and will never feel the fierce joy rising in my heart when my son or daughter runs up to me crying, "Otousan, look what I can do," or hear the ever wondrous words of, "I love you."
Please know that even though your physical being has left this home, your essence has remained. When I go to sleep, I can still smell the soft scent of your blue hair, and in the soft light of the living room mirrors, I see reflection of you, fixing your hair, powdering your nose, and doing whatever else females engage in to make themselves beautiful. Know that when you left, you took a piece of my heart with you, and left a part of your own with me. From me you have taken what you can never return, may that piece leave you with at least some happy memories.
Good-bye Bulma, may the stars guide you in a life of happiness and joy, and may Dende bless you with many children.
Love,
Yamucha
I can feel the tears running down my cheeks before I even finish the letter. By Dende, what have I done? Or more importantly, why didn't he ever tell me?
Carefully, I begin searching for what I now know is an engagement ring that dropped out of the letter. I choke when I do find it. Sapphires, intricately laid in the shape of rose, with a precious diamond centered in the middle to complete the look. Roses…my favorite flower. Vegeta never brings me roses, nor did he ever buy me an engagement ring.
Quietly, I slip the ring on my finger, letting the rest of the world fade away as memories overtake me. It's times like this that I do retrospect on the past, and I do wonder, what if Vegeta and I had never married? What if I had remained with Yamucha? Was leaving Yamucha for Vegeta the right thing to do?
No, I say to myself, shaking those thoughts away. I'm a happy woman, with two beautiful children, and a wonderful, although sometimes difficult, spouse.
Then again, what about those times I am not happy with Vegeta? Like not showing up for our children's births? Without realizing it, I lay back and wrap the covers around me, pulling the ring tighter around my marriage finger.
And for the first time in a long time, I cry, for him and that which never was.
So, did you like it? E-mail me at ChaoticSerenity3@aol.com.