When he'd first arrived at the sealed doors of Vegeta's eerily quiet castle around lunchtime, there was no answer at the door. That didn't stop Goku, though. He'd spent hours climbing moss-covered walls and dirtying his nice clothing in search of alternate entry, until finally he'd found an open window leading into the dining room on the first floor. After climbing inside, he searched the place quietly, suspecting that although all was quiet, the castle was not empty. His intrusion certainly would not be received well if he were found in the dining room.
So he remained quiet as he took in his surroundings-the large, shining heavy wooden dining table in the center of the room, chairs surrounding it, clean dishes placed neatly as if in preparation for company, large, ornate tapestries on each wall, and a polished floor beneath his unfortunately muddy boots. It all seemed in order and as he would expect to find an inhabited, respectable castle, yet something about the scene seemed off.
It gave him the chills, being inside that castle, after all the times he'd thought of what it was like in there. Yet when he passed through the drafty room, he paused at the doorway, noting that a portrait was missing. He couldn't recall the faces in the portrait, but for some reason, he knew there should've been a portrait hanging near the doorway. Goku's brows furrowed in confusion as he left the dining room and pondered over that thought, his distraction leading him to walk unsuspectingly right into another figure. "Oof!"
"Ugh! Hey!" Nappa glared at the castle's intruder with whom he'd just collided. "How the hell did you get into the master's castle?"
Nappa was sure that his master would not be happy to find Goku Son uninvited in his home when he woke. So Nappa turned his most intimidating glower on Goku, having every intention of using physical force to throw him out if it came down to that.
"Sorry." Goku chuckled. "But since I'm already in here, I'm sure Prince Vegeta w-"
"Whatever you think you're sure of, Sir, you're wrong. You need to leave."
"I will." Goku said with a smile. "After I speak to Prince Vegeta about Miss Brief's death."
When Goku attempted to brush past him, Nappa growled at the intruder. He couldn't believe the nerve of that man. With a firm hand on the others' shoulder, Nappa lowered his voice. "You were invited to leave."
Goku glared defiantly at Nappa before a sparkle of amusement lit his eyes. "Why don't you just tell Prince Vegeta I'm here?" He raised his brows knowingly. "Or do you receive all the prince's guests for him?"
Nappa balked. "I know what my master wants, and he does not want intruders in this castle!"
Goku was intrigued. "Why's that?"
Certainly, he was onto something. The prince giving his servant orders to prevent anyone from entering the castle only strengthened Goku's suspicions about finding answers there. Apparently, answers that the prince was hiding.
"None of your business, Sir!" Nappa shouted as he stomped down the hall and attempted to pull Goku along with him. "Now, you need to show yourself out, or should I do it for you?"
Goku followed Nappa at a leisurely place, but stopped short and crossed his arms with a smile. Curiously, he took another glance around his surroundings, noting that as the hall opened up ahead, the room towards the left was much less orderly and clean than the dining room had been. At the end of the room, in the shadows, Goku could see the opening of a staircase leading down into the basement. It was odd, how dark it was in that part of the castle. He narrowed his eyes into the dark room in an attempt to see more clearly.
Nappa gasped when he recognized the look of scrutiny on Goku's face, and where he was looking. It was as if the intruder knew where Prince Vegeta slept. That couldn't be possible, though. And yet, the way he looked in that direction seemed too knowing for Nappa's comfort. Nappa growled at the other man's insolence before reaching for the lapel of Goku's white button-front, collared shirt with a forceful grasp. "That's enough of this! Time for you to leave!"
Before Nappa had time to react, Goku's arm swept upwards and released from his attire the solid hold Nappa had only a moment ago. Nappa gaped for only a second before Goku's palm collided with Nappa's chest and nearly knocked him off his feet, shooting him back a few good feet.
Nappa bared his teeth at the trespasser. The master certainly would punish him for being unable to handle this intrusion. He would have no deliciously crunchy treats from his master this evening, and the master would be awakening soon. He could not risk being a disappointment to the vampire who had absolute control and power over his will and his life. Nappa clenched his fists by his sides as he felt his blood boiling and temples throbbing. "Why, you!"
As Nappa lunged at Goku, Goku assumed a ready stance and raised his fists defensively, knowing it was time to be serious. He had hoped his intrusion here would lead to more answers and less confrontation, but it seemed confrontation nearly followed him everywhere he went. He was used to this, and like usual, he would handle it.
Yet, the surprising voice of a third party drew the aggressive servant to halt before reaching Goku. "Let him stay, Nappa."
Nappa gaped and turned to the darkness with a questioning hum. "M-Master? I...apologize for disturbing you."
A dark figure eased through the shadows from the staircase, the silhouette matching Vegeta's form. Goku relaxed as his lip lifted into a warm smile. "Prince Vegeta."
Vegeta came forward and revealed traces of his facial features as the shadows eased off of him. "We shall make an exception to the rules for Mr. Son, Nappa." His dark eyes met Goku's. "I'm sure he couldn't possibly be a threat to me."
Goku raised a brow suspiciously at the mention of a threat. He couldn't imagine why Vegeta had any concerns about threats in the first place. The strange thing was, the way Vegeta said it in reference to him seemed to imply something that made Goku feel unsettled.
"If you say so, Master." Nappa huffed and crossed his arms while looking at Goku with a sour expression. "But you should know that he was sneaking around in the dining room."
Vegeta gave Goku a smug smile. "Really? And how did that happen?"
Goku chuckled guiltily. "Your guard wouldn't let me in yesterday, so I-"
"So you decided to let yourself in." Vegeta turned a glare on Nappa. "I'm disappointed in you, Nappa."
Nappa trembled and grit his teeth. "Prince Vegeta, no human should have been able to get past me! Uh!" Nappa's eyes widened in panic when Vegeta glowered even harder at him. "Are you sure you don't want me to turn him away, so you can get more rest? It's barely past sunset."
Vegeta clenched his jaw tightly shut as he burned his loathing gaze into his incompetent servant. The fool would ruin everything Vegeta was working towards if he didn't keep his mouth shut.
Goku laughed. "Why would you need to rest until sunset?"
Vegeta raised a brow tellingly at Nappa as the slave visibly comprehended his mistake. "Why would I? I can't imagine."
"Uh..." Nappa turned to Goku's curious gaze, knowing his master expected him to correct his mistake, "uh...will you be staying for dinner, Mr. Son?"
The young man's eyes lit with excitement. "Dinner? Isn't it a little early?"
When Goku's eyes flew to Vegeta, Vegeta faltered. Of course he wasn't expecting the company, and he had no need for that kind of nourishment himself, and it was still early. But he couldn't pass up this chance to keep Kakarot in his castle.
He gave Nappa a meaningful nod. "Yes, Mr. Son. Please join me for dinner this evening. That should give you plenty of time to explain why you felt the need to trespass inside my castle."
Goku chuckled nervously at Vegeta's accusing statement. "I can explain now, I suppose."
Nappa was relieved by Goku's excitement over food and the successful change in subject. Now he just needed to conjure up a meal in the near future, or Prince Vegeta would make him pay for this.
Nappa bowed. "I'll dismiss myself now to prepare your dinner."
Vegeta turned to Goku as soon as Nappa swept out the door. "Explain, then."
Goku grimaced guiltily. He certainly had a reason for being so determined to enter the castle, but admitting those reasons to Vegeta might actually make him decide to revoke the dinner invitation. And a vast castle with a dining room like that had to supply some amazing food, which Goku didn't want to risk the chance to miss. When a deep, booming rumble of thunder sounded from the distance, Goku winced.
Vegeta smirked. "Did you forget your reasons? Hard to believe, given that you had to go quite out of your way to gain access to my dining room." Vegeta glanced astutely in that direction. "You had to have climbed through the window."
Goku chuckled in embarrassment. He was caught, and he didn't know how to explain himself, so he gave in. His grandfather always told him that honesty was the best policy.
"Sorry about that." Goku said, before Vegeta gaped disbelievingly at Goku's candid answer, making Goku cringe. "But I really had to get in here! It was important!"
Vegeta lowered his brows to peer suspiciously at Kakarot. It seemed the other man could be withholding information, but he was more likely unaware of his own reasons for suspecting anything of importance to be hidden in Vegeta's castle.
Vegeta tilted his head with his gaze still locked on Kakarot. "You saw me...at Miss Brief's funeral."
"You were there?"
Vegeta lowered his chin. "Don't play the idiot. You know I was."
Goku let out a surprised grunt and took a step back. "Well...uh...how would you know that?"
Vegeta removed his gaze from Goku, turning his back as a smug grin overtook his features. "I know many things that would surprise you, Kakarot."
Goku's brows furrowed. "K-Kak...arot?"
"Humph." Vegeta's back remained to Goku as he faced the dark room from which he'd just emerged. "I suppose you think I know Bulma Brief better than it appears I do."
"I wasn't going to ask you about your...relationship with Bulma. I mean, that's your business, I guess." Goku startled in realization. "Wait. Why did you call me that weird name?"
That weird name. Vegeta sighed. His Kakarot didn't even know who he was anymore. Vegeta would have to fix that sooner rather than later. But looking at the expectant and clueless gaze of the man before him, he realized moving too quickly might ruin his chances. He couldn't stand the thought of failure in this instance, not after all he'd been through over the past centuries.
Vegeta smiled at Goku sadly. "It's not weird."
"But why did you call me that?"
Vegeta sighed and assumed an aloof attitude. "It's what I call you."
Goku was more confused than ever. When Vegeta started to walk away, he felt the need to follow, as if allowing the other man to leave the room would permanently separate them, and for some reason-though he still hardly knew Vegeta-he really did not want to let that happen.
"But my name is Goku!" Goku called after Vegeta, nearly stumbling out of the room until he bumped into the man just past the doorway.
Vegeta refused to continue with the topic further. Instead, he turned to face Goku, bringing the pair of them face to face as Goku was already so close behind him. Goku gasped as his eyes met Vegeta's, the instance of contact making him recall his bizarre dream. To his surprise, Vegeta's eyes were studying Goku's facial features carefully. His breathing was also becoming shallow.
Vegeta reached a hand slowly towards Goku's face, wanting to touch the warm, familiar cheek of his lover he so longed to feel again. Just a little affectionate contact with his Kakarot after years of being denied the feeling would sustain him for now, though he longed for so much more.
"Vegeta..." Goku breathed as their eyes met again.
He shuddered when he registered the same look in Vegeta's eyes that he'd seen from bed the previous night. With the intimate touch of Vegeta's hand cupping and caressing his cheek, he realized that the dream was real. Goku reached for Vegeta's hand, gently prying it from his face as he exhaled and forced himself to breathe again.
"Kakarot." Vegeta smiled when he recognized the understanding in his lover's eyes, limited though that understanding may have been.
Goku was confused. How Vegeta had come by his room in the middle of the night and awoken him with an unforgettable kiss was beyond him. Vegeta was acting as if he knew Goku, better than he knew himself.
Goku opened his mouth to question Vegeta when Nappa's call sounded from outside the room, "Dinner is served, Master!"
Goku released his grip on Vegeta's hand, relinquishing his thoughts as well, in favor of seeking food. His questions could wait until after dinner, and the smells wafting from the dining room were too pungent for his grumbling stomach to ignore.
Yamcha rested his weight against the butt of a tall shovel, heaving and panting as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The rain was starting to come down, accompanying the thunder which had been carrying on for hours with the approaching storm. Now, the storm was there, but the trio wouldn't stop and let their hard work go to waste, not when they'd finally pulled Bulma's coffin from its grave.
"We need to hurry!" Piccolo demanded in a yell that fought against the loud wind paired with the rainfall.
Yamcha tossed his shovel aside and ignored the rain pelting against his skin as he rushed to assist Mr. Piccolo with carrying the coffin. Mr. Roshi was not at all bothered by the rain and wind, yet all the same, a chill crawled up his spine as he picked up their tools and recently-lit oil lamp, while the other men heaved the coffin towards the nearest shelter-a small domain used by the undertaker to prepare for burials.
The men flung themselves through the door as the slick, cold rain was beating down on them by the time they'd reached the shelter. Piccolo and Yamcha dropped the heavy coffin on the ground just inside the doorway while Roshi hurriedly set down his tools and fought against the strong wind, pressing the door closed by throwing his frail body into it.
The men took a moment to recover from the tedious effort, but Piccolo was quick to return to work, setting his fingers to the coffin's lid before his breath even stopped running ragged. Yamcha pursed his lips at the unexpected sight, but hurried to kneel down and assist Piccolo.
"What's the hurry, lad?" Mr. Roshi asked, being the only one who remained leaned against the door, breathing deeply until he returned to a normal state.
"You have no idea what this town may be dealing with." Piccolo answered, as if the old man's question was an ignorant nuisance to his efforts.
"I know," Roshi said, offense lacing his voice as he moved to hover over the men working at the coffin, "that's why we called you in."
"Yeah," Yamcha growled as his fingers slid from the tight grip they'd had around the lip of the coffin, "mind filling in the missing information for us?"
Piccolo clenched his jaw as he focused completely on the task at hand. He needed to get to the bottom of this, as soon as possible. He grunted in relief when his sharp nails finally found purchase against the lid, where he was able to lift the opening enough to see the darkness within.
"You've got it!" Yamcha exclaimed before moving to assist Piccolo shoulder to shoulder with a solid heave. "Come on!"
"Alright." Roshi nodded as he clasped his hands behind his back and watched the younger men successfully lift the top half of the coffin. "That's i-"
The old man stopped and gaped when the heavy wooden, polished top of the coffin fell to the side to reveal the inner linings of the empty tomb littered with soil and some moisture from the rain. Yamcha and Piccolo gaped, equally speechless, until Piccolo turned away and clasped both hands over his mouth with a long, drawn out sigh.
"I-I thought," Yamcha stuttered as he regained his bearings, "I thought we were uncovering Bulma's body to discover what killed her." He looked anxiously to Roshi's downcast, astounded gaze, and then to the back of Piccolo's closed-off posture. "How are we supposed to find out now?!"
Roshi shook his head slowly. "I think the bigger question, Yamcha, is staring us in the face." He looked intensely towards Piccolo, who'd finally turned to face the others. "Just what in the world is going on here?"
"Gentlemen," Piccolo grumbled tersely while staring towards the empty coffin, "I'm afraid we have our answer to what killed Miss Brief. It's exactly as I feared."
"And what," Roshi hissed indignantly, "exactly did you fear?"
Piccolo gulped, the words unable to rise from his throat. He had studied this, and studied it well, yet only once had he faced this monster in reality. The killer who attacked Bulma Brief was undoubtedly out there still, he was cunning, and he had already moved on to his next victim.
Piccolo met Roshi's gaze with an intense glare. "You are right to fear that Mr. Son's life is in danger as well." He faltered in his step as he moved towards Yamcha, the physical exhaustion of their hours-long daunting task catching up with him sooner than he would have liked. Yamcha and Roshi flinched towards him to help, but Piccolo rudely swatted them aside.
"What do we do? And," Yamcha shook his head to clear his thoughts, "what happened to Bulma?!"
Piccolo clamped his lips tightly. He couldn't divulge to them what happened to Bulma Brief by his word alone. From the grotesque nature of her death to the state she would likely be in right now, it would be too much for the simple-minded men to believe. And any suspicions they might hold of such a killer could result in the formation of an angry mob, set out to kill just about anyone who fit their suspicions.
All Piccolo could do for tonight was warn them and make sure they had the rest they needed for the battle that was to come. His father fell victim to one of these very monsters, though, and he had every intention of seeing this through to the end, regardless of how terrifying and dangerous the creature of the night was.
"I cannot tell you what happened to Bulma Brief, except…" Piccolo hesitated, then resumed with a reluctant sigh, "except that she still walks this Earth."
"What?!" Yamcha exclaimed, while Roshi gaped at Piccolo, in utter shock.
Piccolo set about searching the drawers and cabinets lining two of the four walls within the small undertaker's office, looking for anything that could be useful to them. They could not spend the night in there, with the empty coffin, but hiking through that cemetery unprotected would nearly be suicide. When his eyes finally scanned the contents of one disheveled drawer to find a solitary wooden cross and several tools made of silver, he grabbed three items and shoved two of them in the open palms of the frozen men still recovering from their shock.
Yamcha closed his fingers slowly around the silver pocketknife in his palm. He breathed deeply while looking at Piccolo, not even daring to ask what that was for when he saw the intensity from the other man's gaze. Piccolo appeared to be nervous, and from the short span of hours Yamcha had known him, he already had drawn the conclusion that this was not a man that let anything rattle him. Yet, whatever this was about clearly had Piccolo rattled.
Roshi grasped the cross in his palm with his other hand and worked both hands to wrap it in the string surrounding his neck. He already had a feeling something evil had entered their town, and Piccolo's findings lead him to finally conclude that such was the truth. He had no hesitations about wearing a cross around his neck, to let the blessing of any holy symbol protect him from whatever evil lurked outside.
"I suggest," Piccolo said, "we all return to our beds for some rest. We will need all the energy we can get for what we are about to face, if you have any intentions of getting involved in fighting this."
"O-of course." Yamcha stammered.
"I mean it!" Piccolo shouted. "This is not some harmless virus we are toying with! This is the most evil, deadly enemy I have ever encountered in my entire career of studying demons, diseases, and monsters."
"A-are you serious about this?" Roshi asked, studying Piccolo's expression closely before nodding decisively. "Yes, yes you are."
"If you're scared," Piccolo warned, "you need to back out now and leave this town."
"Whatever this thing is," Yamcha stepped forward adamantly, "it killed Bulma, right? And now it's after Goku? I'm not going to stand by and watch another person close to me get killed!"
"Then," Piccolo said as his features eased slightly, "return home carefully now, and we will meet here in the morning, along with whomever else intends to join this fight."
"Why carefully?" Yamcha asked.
Piccolo was already reaching for the door, but dropped his hand by his side to turn and address Yamcha. "It's out there. They are out there." He stressed the words. "Who knows how many there are. This is their hunting hour. They are creatures of the night."
Yamcha trembled as a thunder clap sounded, loud enough to make the walls audibly shudder with its intense vibration. Roshi jumped and knocked over the oil lamp which had been set on the floor before their grim discovery. He startled to pick it up, while Piccolo heaved a heavy sigh and again reached for the door. It would be the longest walk home any of the three of them ever had, especially once they parted to go their separate directions.
Dinner had been fantastic. Even with the base nature of the simple meal, the broth, potatoes and meats Nappa had provided for them tasted delicious. Vegeta spent the duration of the meal barely eating anything, because he was answering every question Goku had about the castle.
The place was fascinating, from its rich centuries of history and inhabitants to the way it was built and the existence of secret passages. Goku found that (contrary to his expectations) the more he knew about the place, the more he felt attached to it. Vegeta seemed amused by Goku's fascination, again making Goku feel as if the prince knew more about him than he let on. That thought drove him to finally bring up one of the questions he had been hesitant to ask.
"Vegeta, this may sound like a strange question, but…" Goku inhaled deeply as Vegeta's knowing gaze pried into him, "why do I feel like I've known you…for so long?"
Vegeta's smile looked smugger than it had through the entire dinner. "That's hard to explain, Kakarot." Vegeta tensed with a warning look when Goku opened his mouth. "I wish you would believe me when I tell you that Kakarot is your true name. There is just so much you have forgotten."
"Forgotten?" Goku repeated dubiously.
Shuffling sounds from outside the doorway drew both men's attentions away from the conversation momentarily. Goku turned to look over his shoulder and spy vague movement past the doorway, while Vegeta glowered in that direction. The vague shadows disappeared with a flash of lighting that highlighted the room following a clap of thunder with rumbling echoes. The men resettled to look at one another again once the passage outside the room was vacant once again.
Goku discarded his napkin from his lap and hurriedly stood from the table. "I should be off."
"You can't be serious." Vegeta politely countered with a pointed look towards the view of flashing lightning out the window. "What kind of host would send you home in that abhorrent weather?"
"I already have stayed much later than I should have." Goku gasped in realization. "Much, much later!"
He cringed in realization when he finally recalled having told Chi-Chi and Ox that he would submit to an examination that day. He left without telling anyone where he was going, and the hours had flown by while having conversation with Vegeta. Whether this was for a good cause or not, Goku was certainly going to be in trouble with his fiancé when he returned. His fear of that was almost greater than the fear of the ghostly sounds and movements surrounding him in the dark castle, along with its mysterious, mesmerizing master.
Vegeta glared in disapproval as his guest rose to leave. He had no intentions of letting Kakarot leave so soon. Kakarot needed the exposure to the castle to realize the truth. He needed more time with Vegeta, and then surely he would begin to change. If not, Vegeta would settle it all with the most final method of reclaiming his love, but he wanted some semblance of Kakarot to come out before that happened. With an inconspicuous nod towards his servant standing guard near the door, Vegeta signaled Nappa to do what was required to keep Kakarot in place without alarming him.
Nappa's eyes widened as he looked to Vegeta, recognizing his call. He hadn't heard a word spoken, and yet, the orders came as clear as if Vegeta had said them directly to his face. With an awestruck nod, Nappa grabbed the nearby glass wine decanter, making his way towards Goku with a steady stride. Goku turned away from the table to push in his chair, just as Nappa was passing. With a false stumble, Nappa poured the wine onto Goku's fine, though dirtied suit, wetting the man to the point that he was drenched and covered from the waist down in red.
Goku gasped at the cold sensation while Vegeta smirked triumphantly at his satisfied servant. Vegeta knew Nappa enjoyed that task. He certainly showed no liking for Kakarot. But that would have to change soon. Vegeta was certain it would, once Kakarot was back to normal.
"Oh, Mr. Son!" Nappa exclaimed while grabbing a cloth napkin to wipe futilely at the soiled attire, "I'm so sorry!"
Goku batted Nappa away while cringing at the sensation of cold that clung to his form. "It's alright, it's alright."
"Certainly not." Vegeta stood and made a show of glowering at his servant. "Nappa! You clumsy oaf. Prepare some clean clothes and a room for Mr. Son."
"Y-yes, Sir."
As Nappa shuffled out of the room, Goku stood aghast at the spill and Vegeta's decisive statement. "Vegeta, I can't stay."
"I'll hear no more of that, Kakarot. I am not sending you home in this storm in that condition. This castle is perfectly warm and well-guarded from the elements outside."
"Vegeta."
A curt knock sounded from the open dining room doorway. "Master, the room is already prepared."
"Good." Vegeta nodded to Nappa and then smiled cunningly at Goku. "I would suggest you telephone home tonight, but we have no telephone in this castle. Perhaps we can send word first thing in the morning?"
Goku sighed in defeat. He hated to admit it, but Vegeta made a good argument. Chi-Chi would certainly be upset about Goku returning stained and soaked from the rain after missing dinner, without a decent explanation for where he'd been all day. At least after a good night's sleep, he could concoct a decent excuse. "Alright. Where is this room?"
Nappa gestured for Goku to proceed ahead of him.
Goku turned to leave, but glanced back at Vegeta with a smile. "Thanks for this. And for dinner. Goodnight."
Nappa met Vegeta's gaze after Goku passed, smirking at the approving look from his master. He had most certainly dodged a bullet that night, and he deserved it after producing a dinner so quickly for his undesired guest.
Once he was alone in the dining room, Vegeta crossed his arms and smiled in self-satisfaction. He truly had no concern about Kakarot out in the storm. That couldn't possibly harm him. But, in combination with the wine spill, it did make the perfect excuse to keep Kakarot in the castle for the night. Vegeta realized this might be the only night he'd have him there.
As for those three lurking wenches that nearly ruined his chances of retaining his guest, Vegeta would have to deal with them. He knew their following him to the castle would become a problem. But that was an issue that could wait until tomorrow night. For this evening, he needed to focus his attention on Kakarot. More of that human impostor's blood would satisfy and sustain Vegeta for the night, and spending more time with him would hopefully help bring the true Kakarot to light. Vegeta would give Kakarot some time to settle in, but then he would be sure to pay his guest a visit in the later hours.
After separating from the others at the heart of the cemetery, Yamcha neared its perimeter of wrought iron fencing, relieved to almost be free from the rainfall and ominous lighting and thunderclaps making the unnerving trek even more difficult. He subconsciously tightened his grip on the silver instrument given to him mysteriously by Piccolo. He had no idea what good the tool was supposed to do him, except giving a small cut to anything that might attack. He had a suspicion that it wouldn't be enough for whatever it was that had Piccolo so worried.
As Yamcha reached for the gate, intending to leave the cemetery and step onto the muddy and puddle-lined path leading towards his home, a flash of movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He turned towards the shadow, gasping as he switched the pocketknife open and readied himself for anything. His heart began to pound as the shadow moved out from behind the wide iron pole of the gate again, coming slowly towards him. A reflection was cast across the large, rippling puddle which lined the outer edge of the path, just past the cemetery's wrought iron fence. Yamcha froze when he recognized the reflection as a blurred image of a woman's figure.
His eyes drifted upwards slowly. He was wary of what kind of woman could be out there on a stormy night, approaching him at such a location and ungodly hour. When the figure came near enough to be illuminated by his oil lamp, Yamcha sucked in a breath. The figure had a familiar, beautiful shade of blue hair covering her face. When she reached an alabaster hand with dirt-caked fingernails to sweep the hair from her face, Yamcha's eyes bulged. It couldn't be possible.
"B-Bulma?"
Bulma's eyes lifted to meet his with an expression as if it was the first time she'd ever seen him-as if she was waking up from a dream. Her lips spread into a slow smile as a look of recognition finally flashed across her brilliant blue eyes.
Her voice came out distant and breathy, "Yamcha."
Yamcha dropped the oil lamp and pocketknife in shock when Bulma walked slowly towards him. As the gap closed, Yamcha felt his heart swell with emotion. It most certainly was Bulma standing in front of him, and aside from the bedraggled state of her appearance from the storm, she looked more beautiful than ever. He hadn't believed Piccolo's words when he claimed Bulma still lived, but there was no denying it now. Unbelievable as it was, Yamcha couldn't bring himself to complain or question. He was too overwhelmed with relief. "Bulma!"
Yamcha seized Bulma in his arms and breathed in the fragrance of her hair as her arms slowly and gingerly wrapped around his waist. He felt his chest heave with silent sobs as he brushed a hand up and down Bulma's back, burying his face deeper in her neck.
"Oh, Yamcha." Bulma whispered in his ear.
He shivered at the sensation of cool breath that ghosted over the sensitive flesh of his earlobe and neck. Yamcha shook his head in disbelief, too astounded to comprehend anything that was happening. All he knew was, Goku was in danger now, and he was not going to lose Bulma again.
Yamcha sighed into Bulma's neck. "I thought I lost you." He slid his hand down Bulma's back to fall securely within her palm. "We need to go. It's not safe out here."
Bulma pressed herself tighter against Yamcha's chest. She wanted him to feel her body against his beneath her dress one last time; she wanted him to want to stay. Because it would be so much better if he didn't run. When Yamcha had no objection and his tense body relaxed against hers, Bulma chuckled huskily.
She licked her lips as the scent of fresh blood wafted off of Yamcha's warm skin. The sound of the pulse beneath the heated skin pounded through her ears. She realized how amazingly parched she was, and why she wanted Yamcha so close. He was right. It was not safe out there.
