Chapter Ten: Herbs and a Remedy

"Where's the next Dragon Ball?" Bulma asked impatiently as her guard carried her through the air. She hadn't had any feelings of nausea lately, which was a good sign, and the view of the beautiful landscape below was enticing and magnificent, but Vegeta was being a bit harsher than usual. Not just in his temper or tone, but in his grip on her as well. She could already feel where the future bruises were going to be on her skin. One would be on her right side, where his fingers were digging into her rib cage. The other would be on the side of her neck. If it wasn't for her hair in between his hand and her skin, she might have yelled at him to put her down.

"Stop being so stupid, woman. I know where I'm going," he replied bitterly. If anything happened to the both of them, Bulma wished it would be something that involved an outcome where Vegeta would have to let her go. It wasn't that it hurt, so much that it was him who was hurting her. After the couple times he saved her and the moments such as that of the previous night, she wouldn't have thought that he would let anything happen to her, much less harm her himself. She began to doubt that he wanted anything from her, or he did, and was just using her for his own selfish desires. But that would be stupid. As she was well aware, most men wanted a form of release, and she knew that Vegeta was no exception. She knew that he felt how her body had reacted to his, and if all he really wanted was release, then he wouldn't have stopped. But he did, because he knew she could be hurt in her present condition. Then why was he hurting her now? Unless he didn't realize it, of course. But since she last saw him, it seemed as if everything about him had changed. He was much more reluctant to talk with her about anything. He didn't want to be questioned about anything. He acted as if he didn't want her around anymore… as if he never wanted to see her again. If that was the case, then she had only herself to blame. She had caused all of this by telling him that she didn't want to marry any of the men at the ceremony, especially that idiot, Yamcha. Although, what she hadn't told her guard was that she didn't want to marry any of them because she was in love with him instead. She would have never said it to him for fear of him leaving and never coming back. Her heart would have been shattered and torn out, leaving her without a trace of who she would become, or who she even was anymore. She didn't want that to happen if she had told Vegeta that she loved him like no other. If he was going to stay, then he would have to do it because he wanted to. If he knew that she cared for him like she did, then it might scare him away to the point where he never wanted to see, hear, feel or even be with her ever again. But unfortunately, it looked like that was already beginning to happen…

A sharp pain hit her side as Vegeta gripped her tighter. Bulma yelped at the sudden feeling, squirming slightly to try and loosen the tight knot under her rib cage. Vegeta let his hold go just a bit until she stopped moving in his arms. He didn't even look at her or apologize as he continued following the invisible trail through the air. There were no trees for miles. The flat landscape stretched as far as Bulma could see. Vegeta, of course, could see much farther than an Earthling, and even he could see nothing but grass, hills, and more grass and hills. A few animals were scattered around the open plains, nibbling on some weeds or finding bugs under the fresh soil.

"Where's the next Dragon Ball?" Bulma asked again after a few minutes flew by.

"Why don't you go ask someone who cares?" he snapped, still refusing to look at her.

"Vegeta, what's wrong with you! Why are you acting like this, now, all of a sudden! Is it me? Is it something I said or did? Is it something I didn't do?"

"Don't you ever shut up? Maybe that's something you didn't do," he mocked.

"Why can't you just tell me what's wrong? I'd like to help."

"Well then help by shutting your fucking mouth! Don't you know when to stop?"

Bulma knew that if she didn't do something, she would never get to the bottom of this. She had waited an entire day for him to sort out his problems by himself as she didn't talk to him. She had stayed silent for over ten hours, which she felt was more than enough time for him to think about how to fix his problem. It was now her turn to try and solve it for him, since he was obviously sucking at doing it himself. She wouldn't quit this time, like all the others. Vegeta was going to tell her what was wrong whether he liked it or not.

"Don't you know when it's time to shut your fucking mouth?" Bulma asked threateningly, causing Vegeta to pause, mid-air, and look her directly in the eyes. It took some effort on Bulma's part not to falter at his penetrating gaze.

"What did you just say?" he asked sarcastically, as if he didn't actually hear what he thought he did. He was using the fact that he was carrying her to look down at her, as if he was better than her in every way possible. And even every impossible way, too.

"You heard me," she whispered. Vegeta just remained in his position, looking at her with his eyebrows sarcastically raised. Like she just crossed some invisible line that he drew for her. If he actually thought she was never going to cross it, then he was even stupider than he looked.

In the next moment, Bulma was dropped from her guard's arms and was propelling towards the grasslands below. She let out a frightful scream against her own will and tried to spread her arms as if she could possibly stop herself from hitting the ground. He attempts were obviously fruitless, seeing as she was only an Earthling, but before she knew it, she was back in her guard's arms, flying in the direction they were headed before the interruption.

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What strong sense of stupidity was radiating from the female? First she purposefully annoys him to the point where he'd already told her to stop. Then she insults him. What, did she think some good could come out of that? Yeah, right. Next, as if her stupidity level couldn't get any higher, she continues with the insults. She deserved a little scare on his part. She deserved to think that she would plunge through the air for a few seconds, then hit the hard ground below. A little scare would do her some good. Instilling fear in a creature is the first way to get it under control. If it became necessary, he would give the aqua-haired female such a scare that she would be begging on her knees for him to command her on what he would be pleased with. Every action she took would be a result of his orders…

Vegeta realized there was a firm scowl on his face. That was strange. He could have sworn he was smirking…

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"Here," Vegeta called, throwing the small orange ball to Bulma. She caught it and placed it in her backpack with the other two. Three down, four to go.

After their last… experience, Bulma found that her guard had lightened up a bit. After he had caught her, his grip had become less forceful. The bruises would still be there in a few days, but at least they wouldn't get any worse. He hadn't spoken to her since then, so the sound of his masculine voice was a relief to her. He still hadn't apologized for what he had done, but Bulma forgave him anyway. She knew he would probably die before apologizing to anyone, especially her. But she felt that he regretted it anyway, even if he refused to say it or show any signs of it. His pride would always be in the way…

Bulma was about to ask where the next Dragon Ball was, but stopped herself, remembering what happened last time she asked that forbidden question. Although, it did make him loosen up a bit, even if it wasn't in the way she had expected. So, instead of dancing on his nerves, she decided to ask another question.

"What do you think we should wish for when we collect all of the Dragon Balls?"

Vegeta looked over at her in a way that showed that he really didn't want to see her face or have to look at it. The look pierced Bulma's heart like a needle pierces cloth: swiftly, but it will always leave a small mark, even if no one can see it. And Vegeta didn't see it.

"Something to get rid of Freiza," he said, all traces of emotion gone from his voice, "Either giving me the power to kill him, or wishing he was dead." After finishing his answer, he went back to looking at the Dragon Radar as if it held all the answers to the universe. It looked like it had given him the answer to her question, but Bulma was well aware that one perfect wish could never solve every man's problems, especially Vegeta's. Not that he had a lot of problems. It was just…

"Oh," Bulma said, too low for anyone to hear. Well, too low for any Earthling to hear.

"Why? Did you want to wish for something trivial that wouldn't matter when you're dead?" he asked, still looking at the Radar. "Your wish won't do you any good when Freiza's trying to kill you."

Bulma thought about that. "Well, how do you even know he's trying to kill us? The guy back on the planet where I met you said something else. He never said that Freiza was going to try and kill us."

"First of all, I've lived with that pathetic excuse for a maggot for most of my life. When I say he's trying to kill us, I could say many different things to get the message across to anyone who has ever known him like I do. If you don't believe me, then try going to ask him. See what happens."

Bulma looked down, sorry that she questioned him on such an apparently touchy topic. She didn't know how long Vegeta had known Freiza, but he just told her that he lived with him for most of his life. Why would he do that if he disliked him so much? Hoping it wasn't another touchy topic, she decided to ask him.

"Vegeta?"

"What?" he asked, irritated that she wouldn't stop talking to him and having to turn around to look at her again.

"How long have you lived with Freiza?" she asked, hopeful to get the answer, "Where is your family?"

Vegeta paused, staring at her without making a single noise or movement. Bulma thought he looked like he was frozen, but when he answered her, she came out with two conclusions…

"That is a matter which you will never have to be concerned with, so I'd advise not asking anymore if you value whatever little ideas you have of me. My past, present and future have absolutely nothing to do with you, and they never will. There is no possible reason for you to have to ever know. And even if there was, I'd make sure you never found out."

The first conclusion was that this was definitely a touchy topic. The second was that she was going to find out what made the subject so delicate. It wasn't that she felt she had a right to know, because Vegeta had a right to keep it away from her. But she felt like whatever made the topic as fragile as it was was affecting Vegeta in a bad way. Something about her asking made him go on-edge, and she didn't like how that response came about. If it had been something unimportant like his blood type or something than she wouldn't have been so up-tight about the subject. But she was worried about him and the strange reaction he gave her. She only asked about his family and why he lived with Freiza for most of his life. He had also dealt a harsh blow to her conscience by saying that his "past, present and future" had nothing to do with her. Of course it did, though. He had kissed her. Twice. How could she not be part of his life by now? Unless he was just using her…

To answer her own question, Freiza was obviously not Vegeta's father or even a relative, but then why would he live with him? Was Freiza a family friend that his parents gave him to? Were his parents even alive? What was he thinking about before he answered her question with that rude and pompous attitude? Bulma didn't know the answers, but she knew that she was going to find them…

Whether Vegeta liked it or not.

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The next Dragon Ball was found near the end of the day. Bulma hoped a good night's sleep would come to her easily. She hoped her headaches wouldn't come back for a while. There was something she didn't want to have to experience often. Although, she would much rather have one of those headaches than whatever the previous, most painful moment was. She began to wonder if she should try to find a doctor. She trusted Vegeta with whatever he said was wrong with her, but because of his recent attitude and the fact that he certainly was no doctor, she was beginning to worry. For all she knew, he didn't even know what was wrong with her. From her knowledge, a concussion was an injury to the brain and it was caused by a violent hit, like when she hit the wall. She didn't doubt that she had a concussion. She just doubted that she shouldn't be getting treatment for it. She decided that she would go to a town that they had passed only a few minutes before they landed. She wouldn't want to bother Vegeta, especially since she had already gotten on his nerves. So she decided to wait until he fell asleep. It wasn't that she didn't want to make him worry as much as she had the foreign feeling that she didn't want him to come along. She guessed his malice was rubbing off on her. She shrugged to herself and went to lie down on her makeshift bed of soft leaves. Which she made without Vegeta's help, if she might add. He was already perched in the tallest tree, on the tallest branch… farthest away from where she was planning to sleep. Or not sleep, since she was planning on going to the village instead. She would have preferred a city instead of a small village, but sometimes villages were nicer than cities. Not a lot of people, cheaper prices, not that it mattered to her, smaller schools, which she would have preferred over her 200-student classes, the people were nicer to travellers and more likely to help her find her way around, most of the people knew everyone as their neighbor, and overall, villages were a hell of a lot more peaceful than a loud, noisy, smelly, disgusting city… in her point of view. Living in Satan City had really made her hate big cities. Plus, there were no back alleys in villages. To her, that was the best part out of all of them. She wouldn't need Vegeta to save her in a small town or village. If the nearest doctor was in a city she doubted she would be going, but since the village was so close to where they were camping out and they were virtually problem repellants, she knew she wouldn't need a bodyguard when she left during the night.

So, a few hours went by silently, until Bulma heard the Saiyan Prince lightly snoring a good distance away. Bulma stood up, grabbed some money from her backpack and set off in the direction of the village they had passed before. It wasn't completely dark. The moon was almost full and the light coming from it was enough to light her path. The trees in the forest wouldn't block out the light for long. She would have to go through part of the open field to get there anyway. The light from the moon would be strongest there, and she would be able to see almost as if it was midday. She felt a little bad about not telling Vegeta about going to see a doctor when she neared the field, but she knew he would have told her it wasn't necessary. And if she tried to go anyway, he might have tried to stop her. It was better this way. She assured herself that this was the best course of action. She needed treatment from a nurse or someone who knew more about concussions than her or her guard. She then felt a bit out of place. The child prodigy, not knowing a lot about concussions… she should have read more medical books. Her test never taught her anything about how to treat it. She only learned what it was and how someone might get it. Well, just goes to show. Even Bulma Briefs didn't know everything about the world. She cursed under her breath. Out of all the things in the world, why did she have to get the single injury that she had studied the least! It wasn't that she didn't know anything about it. She just found it unimportant. She would never get one in a million years… or that's what she had thought anyway. She had all her bodyguards to protect her from anything. The irony of it all was that one of her bodyguards had been the cause of this injury. Only Vegeta had protected her. Once again, she felt a wave of regret wash over her about her easily irritated but loyal guard. She reassured herself that it was the best course of action to take, going by herself. And it was. It wasn't as if she was running off or upset with him. She wasn't going to a bar to get drunk or to a potentially harmful place like the back streets of Satan City. This was a small village and she was going to see if she needed a specific type of treatment for her injury. If she didn't do this, or was forced not to for that matter, she could very well get even more hurt. She was already a burden to her seemingly pissed off travelling companion. Why not go see a doctor?

Bulma cleared the open field as her thoughts came to an end. The landscape wasn't as pretty when you weren't flying above it, but the moonlight made it a beautiful night. The grass was beginning its morning dew coating. It would take all night to prepare it for the morning, but it was a pretty sight anyway. Up ahead was the village. Pine trees lined the way with a trail for travellers in between them. Birch furs covered the forest beyond the pines and Bulma could hear an owl somewhere in the distance hooting to another. She guessed it had probably spotted a piece of prey for a midnight snack and was telling his friend how he planned to catch it. Father down the trail, Bulma found a small brook with tiny brown fish swimming around. She heard her stomach growl and the fish all scattered instantly. Bulma giggled at their flight.

"I'm not going to eat you," she laughed, but they didn't come back. She made her way to the village gates and a guard with a wooden pike and a spearhead on top greeted her in a friendly voice. He was a big, burly man, so she was taken aback by his innocent tone.

"How can I help you, Miss?" he asked, smiling.

"I was just wondering if I could visit the town healer. You see, I got a concussion a few days ago, and I wasn't sure what precautions I should take. I've already passed out a couple times, and I would like to know how to treat it."

"Say no more. I'll send a man to escort you to our healer. She should be able to fix you up in no time at all," he replied, turning to the gates. "I have a lady who needs to see our healer!" he called through the wood fence to the right of the gate, "I'm letting her in now. Have someone escort her there." The guard turned back to Bulma, still smiling. The gate opened and a man was standing beyond it, waving her inside. He looked to be wearing some sort of armor. Bulma wondered why there would even be guards in such an isolated village to begin with. It wasn't like they had any enemies around them. There weren't any vicious animals in this part of the woods. The as if to doubt her assumptions, a low growl from behind made her jump. She couldn't help but think that something about it sounded familiar. The man didn't seem to notice it, though.

She wondered if they were expecting an attack of some kind. It certainly didn't seem likely, but when she entered through the gates, she realized that there were a large number of soldiers with weapons on the opposite side and they were all wearing armor and had either a sword or gun at their side. What was going on here?

"This way, madam," her escort said, motioning for her to go down a street. He talked in an extremely formal voice, as if she was a queen or something. It wasn't possible that these people knew who she was, was it? Of course not. Her company didn't sell their products to this part of the country. It was impossible for them to know who she was. If she told them she was the heir to Capsule Corporation, they wouldn't understand how important she was… so why the formalities? She wasn't this man's superior. He had no reason to call a woman younger than him "madam," like she was going to sentence him to death or send him to prison for life or something crazy like that.

"How much farther?" she asked. She knew she sounded a little impatient, but she also knew that she was skipping a whole night's worth of sleep to come here, and it was going to be worth it. She would make sure of that.

"Just up ahead, madam," the man said. They rounded a corner and came to a door on the side of a building, "The town healer is through here, madam. Good luck to whatever it is you're troubled with." Bulma nodded her thanks to the man. When she opened the door to the healer's building, he froze and began to slowly back away. His face looked as if he'd seen a ghost as he walked backwards around the corner, the opposite way they had come. Bulma wondered what was going on. Something didn't feel right, but she couldn't help but feel like she was safe. Despite the tiny bit of light and the men with weapons, guarding a territory that seemed to not need any protection against anything.

She entered a building that smelled like portabella mushrooms being cooked to perfection. She could smell the salty seasoning as if it were right in front of her nose. It made her mouth water. Ti wasn't even that she was hungry. It was just that it smelled so delicious. A few pots of boiling water lined the right side of the room. The walls were made of red brick and it the lights were extremely dim. It only provided enough light to see where you were going and the silhouettes of the things around you on the shelves and on the floor.

"I heard you were coming," an elderly lady said, coming into view, "And I heard you have a concussion… and that you've had it for a few days now." Bulma could almost feel a heated reprimanding about to come from the old lady, but one never came. "You should have come to me sooner. Concussions are serious things. An injury to the brain can cause death, young lady. It rates your head up. You're lucky you didn't die in your sleep. That would be the number one cause. People who don't know they have a concussion go to sleep. But they never wake up. But you, you knew you had this injury and you still did nothing. That's very bad, but you're lucky you're here. I can make you something that will make your head feel better. You'll heal faster, too. I can't guarantee exactly how long it will take to be fully healed, but you can rest assured, literally. You will wake up every morning, like nothing was ever wrong." The healer reached for a bottle on one of the higher shelves. "Sit down, honey. I'll only be a little while. Don't worry. I'll have your mixture in a few moments." The bottle held a yellowish powder. She pinched a bit out and tasted it, nodding to herself. She went over to one of the pots of boiling water and dumped a bit inside. She put a few herbs in a cloth bag and let it float on top of the water in the second pot. Alkaloids from dried mushrooms were soaking in oil, reminding Bulma of the wonderful smell in the room. It looked like other stalks of plants had been grated into a pile. She guessed the old lady heard what was wrong with her and had started planning ahead. She probably didn't get too many customers at midnight.

A soft knock came from outside, but it was ignored by the elderly lady and only noted by Bulma.

"Lobella, lobella," the old lady whispered to herself, pointing a bony finger at the shelves. Bulma knew from studying that lobella was a dried plant leaf from a very rare plant. She looked over at the shelves. There were hundreds of square cubbyholes in the wall. It was a small, simple, one-roomed building with little light. It wasn't nearly as well equipped as a hospital, but the lady seemed to know exactly what she was doing, and she had lobella, along with an extensive collection of other things. Bulma knew of a few people back home who would have paid handsomely for something as rare as lobella.

The lady pulled out a small metal tin and pulled out a leaf. She grinded a little pile, about the size of her thumbnail into her palm. After sifting and discarding the fibers, she added it to the first pot of boiling water. She then pulled out a small bottle labeled "yarrow oil", and dumped all its contents into the same pot. Bulma thought she knew about herbs and medicine, but she felt like a lost child watching the old lady work. A chunk of bark was pulled next from the shelves, and the lady dunked it in the pot with the oil in it, pushing the bag of herbs to the side, draining it. She pulled out the bag and dumped the soaked herbs onto the piece of bark, grinding it with a small, flat stone. Then, she dumped the grinded herbs into the first pot and threw the stalks of the miscellaneous plants in after them. She stirred it for a few moments, then grabbed a towel and lifted the pot off the stove and placed it on a metal sheet laid out on the table. She threw a heap of ice cubes inside and sat down next to Bulma.

"Now we wait until it's cooled, or at least until all the ice cubes are melted," she smiled, her eyes closing because of her sagging skin. Bulma wanted to back away from the strange sight, but this was the lady who was going to help her get rid of her head injury so she could go back to her normal life… as normal as it could have ever been, now that Vegeta was in it. "What are you thinking about?' the lady asked, making Bulma looked her directly in the eyes, now that she wasn't smiling anymore.

"Oh. What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about a friend. He's… a little strange." Bulma didn't know how a person went about describing Vegeta to someone. "One moment, he'll be… content with everything around him. I might even get to hold a conversation with him for a few minutes, but it the next moment, he'll be angry at you as if you're ruining his life or something. He's… just a very confusing individual. Sometimes I wish I could dive into his head to see what he's thinking, but he's so unreadable as well. I just don't know sometimes…"

"It sounds like he's confused as well."

"What do you mean?"

"This man you're speaking of, you give his personality on the outside. Not the inside. You just sat here telling me how he acts and how he seems to act in your point of view. You told me you're confused. There's your answer. You don't know him as well as you may think. It seems to me that you want to know him better. Do you perhaps like him?"

Bulma didn't want to tell this stranger how she felt, but everything about her was so inviting. It was as if she actually wanted to help her in any way she could. Bulma wondered if she was the town healer for more than medical purposes. "I guess I do," she replied, "He… I think he likes me back, but like I said before, he's up and he's down. We… kissed… twice, and each time he… you know how when you kiss your first boyfriend ever and it feels great?" The lady nodded and Bulma began to feel a little embarrassed. "Well, I've kissed guys before. I've done it loads of times. But I've realized that every man kisses in about the same way they feel. My first boyfriend was shy, and that's how he kissed me. My second boyfriend was a little aggressive, and he… tried to make things go way too fast for me. Another one was excited that my respond had been yes, and that was how he kissed me. He was more eager than the rest, but not in a bad way. Do you know what I mean?" The old lady nodded again. "But Vegeta… he acts like he doesn't care about anything in the world except his own goddamn pride!" she felt a tear slip down her face and was a little surprised to find it there. Even she didn't know she felt so strongly on the topic. "He's always telling me I'm in the way or ordering me around or some other bullshit that I'm tired of dealing with!" Bulma waited until her voice had calmed down a bit before continuing. "But… the way he kissed me… it was as if nothing else mattered to him in the world. Like he cared about me… like he didn't want anything in that moment but to hold me… It was as if he was trying to tell me something… but then he acts all like a giant jerk in the next minute! Bossing me around like he didn't even care that he just kissed me! Sometimes I want to strangle him!"

"Well… have you talked to him about it?"

"God knows I've tried."

"I think I know what he wants. You told me he acts like he cares only about his pride, correct?" Bulma nodded. "Well, maybe his pride is getting in the way of him telling you how he feels, and he actually was trying to tell you something when he kissed you. Maybe you just haven't realized it yet." Bulma shrugged, thinking about it. "Oh! Look, your medicine is finished cooling off." The lady jumped down from the seat and walked over to the pot, dipping her finger inside to feel the temperature. "Good enough," she said, grabbing a filter from the shelves. She lined a pale with the filter and began pouring the pot's contents on top of the pale. The water seeped through and the herbs and other ingredients were left on the top of the filter. When all the liquid was out of the pot, she grabbed the filter and threw it in the garbage with the things inside of it. She poured a bit of the liquid in a mug and added a drop of hot oil, mixing it around with a red, glass rod. When it mixed as much as water and oil could ever mix, she gave the mug to Bulma. She drank it down in one gulp. It had a nice cinnamon aroma to it, and it tasted sweet and sour at the same time. The oil had made the entire drink warm so it went down easily.

Bulma thanked the lady and exited the way she had come. She turned the corner and made her way back to the front gates, remembering the few turns it took to get to the healer's place. She thanked the guards for being so kind to her and headed back to Vegeta, thinking about what the old lady had said the whole way there.