On Namek, I had referred to the companion of Gohan and Krillin as gorgeous, and though my tone was snarky, I found I really did mean it. Even if she was annoying. Still is, really. And she had the audacity to call me cute. CUTE. The Prince of all Saiyans is not cute. He is devastatingly handsome. Rugged. A GOD. Something to that affect. Cute. What utter nonsense.
Anyways, it was not love at first sight. Utter bullshit. No, it was more that we annoyed each other to wit's end. I had nowhere to go, she had control of the gravity room for training and spare rooms galore, plus a seemingly never-ending supply of food. It was everything I needed.
If only she wasn't so damn annoying.
For example, if I piss her off enough, she turns off my gravity room. She even banned me from it for a week after there was a minor mechanical problem she claims I caused. So it blew up. Sue me. I was unconscious for a few days, and when I woke up, there she was, sleeping at the desk by my bedside. Things began to change after that.
We had a big fight one night. Really big. We were swearing up a storm, shouting at each other, getting in each other's face... she threw a vase at my head! Then she tried to slap me in the face... and I don't know what happened after that other than we were suddenly in her room...
She got pregnant after that. Who gets pregnant after one time? I was not pleased, to say the least. We stayed in separate rooms, interacted as normally as possible, but it was awkward. I left soon after to try to reach my Super Saiyan potential.
Those months away were surprisingly lonely. At first, I was glad for the quiet, the solitude for my training. Glad was maybe an understatement. But around six months in, I began to feel an emptiness, and when she tried to get a hold of me via the interscreen, I realized it was her I missed. Which was bizarre. All we did was fight. I ignored the messages, all of them, for months. There was no way I was falling for an annoying human. No. Way.
I didn't return to Earth until after my son was born. She had named him Trunks, and I wanted nothing to do with him. Bulma tried and tried to pass him off to me, but I would not accept. It was not until after Cell had been defeated that I began to...and I say this hesitantly... appreciate my son. No, I would not hold him, or put him to bed, or feed him, or change his disgusting diaper, but I admitted he was mine in public. And that's enough, right? Once he had mastered walking, I began to train him, which Bulma was unhappy with. But apparently I was right all along, because he ascended to Super Saiyan at six years old. Too bad his best friend is Kakarott's brat. Also a Super Saiyan. At least my son is stronger.
Bulma and I were married when Trunks was three. It was not my idea. But, as Prince of all Saiyans, it is my duty at my age to take a mate, and well, we had mated. The affair was not large. Her parents, and the Z-Fighters and their families. Her parents wanted it to be a big deal, but I refused. It was either that, or nothing at all.
Over the years, Bulma and I grew closer, and I can say I love her. I can't bring myself to say it, but she knows.
She knows.
