It shouldn't take you long to figure out my approach to this story. Hopefully, I can keep working on this at a regular pace and finish it up soon. Don't expect too awful many chapters out of this. But I'll try my hardest to make them high quality, enjoyable chapters.
Bra Briefs smiled seductively at the young man across the room. She brushed her cerulean hair off her shoulder with her hand, continuing to dance with her friends but sending him inviting looks. He'd be an idiot to turn down an invitation from her. She was easily the most attractive woman in the entire bar, and she had saved the invite for the guy who was also the most attractive. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him stand up and disengage himself from the group of males he was with.
She giggled in spite of herself. It worked every time. She separated herself from the girls, and moved toward him, meeting him before he could make his way to her completely. She didn't waste any time and began dancing with him immediately. She could feel him grinding against her, but she didn't mind. All she wanted from him was a quick one-time deal. Get in, get out, have a good laugh in the morning with the girls.
She would, of course, get her way. She always did. She ended up in the bed of every guy she set her eyes on. As he led her back to his place, she wondered what her father thought about her behavior. Surely, he didn't approve. He couldn't. He was over protective, and such a stick in the mud. She was grateful for her mother, who was probably the only reason he didn't rush to check on her every hour. She thought about her older brother, whose party reputation she had bested. She felt a little homesick, but maybe that was the alcohol thinking. Normally, she stayed as far away from her family as possible, and she liked it that way. They were all just so… uncool. Always focused on fighting and training and working on new experiments.
She returned to the present when the man, whose name she couldn't remember, opened the door to his apartment. She walked in behind him as he led her to his room. His roommates were sleeping there. Oh well. That didn't matter to her. But try as she might, she couldn't focus on what she was doing to him. What he did to her. It passed by in a blur. She attributed the lack of coherence to the alcohol she knew was flowing through her system. Her tolerance was extremely high due to her superior bloodlines, but she could overdo it every once in awhile.
He rolled off of her naked form, a stupid, happy look on his face. She only felt disappointment. He couldn't even last two minutes. He couldn't do enough to shake her out of her alcohol-induced reverie. She needed to up the stakes. Find a man who could make her feel something again.
She climbed out of bed and redressed. Silently she slipped out of the room, closed the door and made her way into the night, heading to her apartment. She checked her phone. Five missed calls from Trunks. Two from home. That was odd. They never called her that much.
She called Trunks back. He answered after the first ring.
"Bra. You need to come home," he told her, voice strained in urgency.
She felt panic well up inside of her. He seemed way more serious than usual. "What happened?" she asked.
"Mom's really sick. They don't think she's going to make it through the night."
"What? She was fine when I talked to her on the phone a couple of days ago."
She heard the phone shifting hands, followed by her father saying, "Get home immediately."
She gulped. He never ordered her around like this. It really was serious.
She was slightly offended that he had hung up the phone with no parting words, but the graveness of the situation was not lost on her. She ran home as fast as she could, barefooted, carrying her heels in her hands. She busted through the door, past a roommate getting hot and heavy with a strange guy on the couch. She knew she had to hurry. She pulled on jeans and a t-shirt, dousing herself in perfume in an attempt to mask the smell of sex that she knew hung around her. Her father would pick it up instantly, and she didn't want to have him on her case about it.
A different roommate walked out of the bathroom. "Back already?" the girl asked.
"Yeah. I'm leaving though. Seems like there's an emergency at home." She turned on her heels, pulled on her sneakers at the door, grabbed the keys and headed to her car. She sped along, thoughts of her family drifting through her head. Mom just couldn't be dying. That was impossible. She'd pull through, Bra was sure of it.
She reached the house in record time. She first saw her grandma who was sitting at the kitchen table sobbing. Her grandfather wandered down the stairs, looking very grim. "It doesn't look good, Bra, dear," he told her. "Not good at all."
"Where is she?" Bra asked, panic starting to wrap itself around her chest.
"In the lab's infirmary," he said somberly. "We brought in a team of medical specialists. Your father hasn't left her side."
Bra raced back outside, heading out back to the entrance of the lab and running up the stairs as fast as she could. She smelled the infirmary before she saw it. The smell of medicines, disinfectant and unwashed bodies wafted through the air. She burst through the door, too stunned by the scene in front of her to say anything. Her father clutched her mother's hand, his gaze locked onto her sleeping face. Bra questioned whether she really was sleeping, but then saw her mother's chest rise feebly.
She had so many questions, but the heavy atmosphere in the room made it impossible to say anything. Her father hadn't even acknowledged her presence. Trunks nudged her and tilted his head to the door, before walking out of the room. Bra followed him. "We'll be back soon, Mama, Papa," she said meekly, almost whispering.
"Where have you been?" Trunks asked in a harsh whisper as soon as he thought they were out of earshot.
"Places," she said, not wanting to further elaborate.
"You should have taken a shower. I can still smell…" He changed his mind about what he was going to say thankfully. But she still couldn't escape the scathing look in his eyes. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"
"It was on silent. Listen, Trunks, I would have been here sooner if I'd known."
His facial features tightened. "If you weren't always out partying, you'd know a lot more about our family. Why are you always like this, Bra?"
His insults were getting under her skin. Defiantly she answered, "You partied plenty too, you know."
"But I never forgot my family," he said, locking his eyes with hers, daring her to retort. She dropped her gaze, looking away from him. He was right, after all. No need to argue over it, much as she would like to.
"What the matter with, Mom?" she asked quietly.
"They aren't sure. She wasn't feeling well earlier this evening, and then she just collapsed. They think her heart could be failing."
"Oh," Bra said somberly. "That's not good."
"I don't think she'll be alive by the end of today, Bra. We need to be here. With her. With Dad."
Bra nodded in agreement. Trunks turned around then, and headed back, conversation clearly finished. She followed behind him glumly. Mom was going to die. She hadn't really thought about it before, but she could feel tears welling up just thinking about it. She blinked them back. It wasn't over yet.
The day was long and grueling. She slept some off and on, too afraid to really sleep as she wanted whatever opportunity to see her mother she could possible get. Her opinion of her father increased dramatically. He never left Bulma's side. Not once. Not to sleep, not to eat, not to use the bathroom. With steely resolve, he stayed by her side, denying all of his body's needs.
She had fallen asleep on her brother's shoulder. She looked up at him when she woke up, seeing that his eyes were closed, but she doubted he'd slept much more than she had. The sun was setting. The slow beeping of the heart rate monitor told her that her mom still lived. Her mother hadn't woken up. Not once since she'd been there. Terror filled her. What if she never had the chance to say goodbye?
She walked over to her mother, placing her hand over top of her father's. Vegeta looked up at her, not saying anything. He was tired. Bra could see the fatigue in his expression. She was about ready to say something to him, when his eyes shifted to Bulma's face. Her breathing had changed slightly, her eyes were fluttering. She was going to wake up.
She watched her mom slowly, laboriously open her eyes. "Everyone's here, huh?" she asked weakly. Trunks had moved to stand behind Bra's shoulder.
"Yeah. We're all here," Trunks replied.
Bulma smiled up at them. "I'll be seeing old King Yemma here soon. I've even decided where I want to take up residence." Her voice was airy as she struggled to speak every word.
"Quiet, Mom. You need to rest," Trunks told her.
She ignored him. "Trunks, take good care of Capsule Corp. You're the best man for the job. Bra, darling. I want you to find a nice, kind man to spend your life with. Find your purpose in life. It doesn't help you to wander aimlessly."
Bra cringed at her mother's instruction, but was not about to fight back about it. "Okay, Mom," she agreed softly. She hugged her mom, whispering, "I love you," into her ear. Trunks did the same when she moved away. Bulma then focused her attention on Vegeta.
"Vegeta." She got his full attention. "I want to fly. Just once more."
"Okay," he assented. Standing up, he detached the equipment strapped to her and picked her up out of the bed before he carried her purposefully out of the room. When Trunks and Bra moved to follow him, he stopped them, telling them to stay put. They followed his directions, sitting down in the room and nervously waiting for their parents to return.
It seemed like forever, but after fifteen minutes Vegeta returned, carrying the limp form of Bulma, a pained expression on his face.
He placed her on the bed before sliding to his knees. Bra looked up to her older brother, hoping for an explanation from him, but was only met by the same look of confusion she knew had to be on her own face. The silence deepened when they realized their mother was no longer breathing. "Your mother has gone to the next world," Vegeta told them, his voice cracking. "She's waiting for us there." Bra realized her father was crying. Trunks had too, and both stood stunned, letting the news sink in. Tears pricked behind Bra's eyes. And she let them go, sobbing and wiping her face. She felt a hand take her elbow, Trunks's hand, and lead her away. She didn't know where they were going, but it didn't matter. She was too upset to care.
She woke up the next morning, eyes puffy from crying. It still hadn't really sunk in that her mother was dead, but she resolved to never take her family for granted again. And they were going to need her now more than ever. She had to hold them all together. She would be strong. She would get stronger and live up to her mother's wishes and her father's expectations. She had her father's strength and her mother's beauty and intelligence. She was the daughter of the Saiyan prince. The daughter of the smartest woman on Earth. The lineage high class. She was going to take advantage of it and make something of herself. She felt sadness creeping upon her, and she allowed herself one final cry before facing the world.
Bra's POV. Sad, tragedy chapter. And yeah. I'm jumping around the timeline. Get used to it.
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