Epilogue: Five Years Later
BULMA was almost positive she'd never seen this year's World Martial Arts Tournament as jam-packed as she'd had in other years. Not even in the years when Goku had competed, though now that the world was at peace again, she had thought this would have been the first thing on his mind, competing again for the title of World Martial Arts Champion, though shockingly enough, he wasn't entering.
Neither was Vegeta. Instead, they were going to watch Trunks and Goten compete, and the rivalry between the two fathers over their sons was, in her mind, utterly ridiculous. She rolled her eyes to herself as Bulma expertly navigated her way through the throng of people who have come from all corners of the world to watch the tournament.
She hated crowds, and the quicker they all got out of this din and into their seats, then the better off she'd be. When it was crowded like this, you took in no information about anyone, other people were just things in your way. Moving, smelling, awkward, really rude things. But now, the faces of the crowd were looking at Bulma Briefs and Vegeta. Bulma could feel it. Thinking about her.
Wondering what on earth she was doing with a man like Vegeta for her husband. She could read their expressions. Judging her and their family. Bulma scanned the crowd, looking for a bright tuft of light lavender hair, with their five-year-old daughter, Bulla, clutching onto the sleeve of her brown leather jacket, not wanting to get lost and lose sight of either of her parents.
Bulma defiantly shot back her own stares, more like glares, towards all these strangers. She silently dared either one of these parents who were looking at her to say something—anything—as she stared right back, forming opinions, deciding on the safest place for them all to sit, nearer to who, further from anybody who looked like they were a threat, and who didn't pose any kind of threat at all.
"Is that them?" Bulla squeaked, the five-year-old's voice barely reached her mother's eardrums through the noise of the crowd, as she craned her neck to try to keep Trunks in her line of sight, while at the same time not wanting to get lost herself. It was a damned bloody maze in here and she hated it.
"Yeah, I think it is. C'mon. We're gonna be late, and Daddy's gonna kill us both if we miss seeing Trunks' fight."
It was just after twelve o'clock, and Bulla had started getting fussy about halfway through the elimination rounds and had a craving for a loaded hot dog with the works. Vegeta hadn't wanted to miss any of the matches, so it had been up to Bulma to take her, though she'd secretly jumped at the chance to get away from the crowds for a bit.
"Are we going to have dinner at Uncle Goku's house tonight?" Bulla asked, well…hopefully. She loved spending time with Goku and Chi-Chi and was developing a rather adorable crush on Goten, who was a year younger than Trunks, a strapping kid who'd inherited his dad's looks.
Goten saw Bulla as a bit of a pest but loved her still. Bulma chuckled at that thought, thinking maybe fate had something in mind for those two as well, just as it had for her and Vegeta. How her Saiyan King had saved her life on multiple occasions, and eventually they had bonded and grown to respect one another, even love the other, over time. And now, Bulma couldn't imagine a life without him.
With Bulla's determination, as strong as that of her own, and her intelligence, which came from both her parents, it was more than a definite possibility for her and Goten.
"We sure are," she grinned, pausing a bit to ruffle Bulla's hair. "Piccolo and Gohan and Videl are coming too. They can't wait to see you again," she answered, scooping up the five-year-old into her arms, proudly setting her on her shoulders and tickling her sides, relishing the sound of her child's laughter as the little girl squealed in delight and clutched onto her mother's shoulders for support. "They want to see how much you've grown now that you're a strong Saiyan Princess of five years old!" Bulma teased.
Bulla's birthday had been a couple of days ago. The cleaning robots back at Capsule Corp were still cleaning up the mess, remnants from the party when the Saiyans had gotten a little too overenthusiastic about the food spread.
"But they only just saw me two days ago, Mommy! I can't have grown that much in one day!" Bulla pondered, furrowing her little eyebrows together in a contemplative thought as she rested her chin on her mother's head.
Bulma giggled, thinking how much Bulla looked like Vegeta whenever she took on this look, quiet, contemplative, and serious. She sure didn't get it from her.
"Really? Has it only been just two days? You seem so much older already," Bulma teased, only half-joking as she reached up and poked her daughter's nose affectionately before letting out a groan as she hoisted her off of her.
Bulla bounded forward on her heels before Bulma could even think about stopping her daughter as she ran through the crowd to try to catch up with her older brother. Bulma's face drained of color as her eyes scanned the crowd.
"Wait!" Bulma cried out and stomped her foot in a moment of frustration and panic at seeing Bulla vanish. "Bulla! Trunks! Both of you stay close, I don't wanna lose you!" she shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth, and having to shout to ensure she was heard over the din.
She sighed, and she felt a figure nudge beside her. Vegeta. Her suspicion was confirmed when she felt the strong but tempered grip of a calloused hand on her shoulder, squeezing just enough to release all the tension.
She didn't even have to look to the left to know it was him. But she looked away, turning to the left to peer at her husband, who was shaking his head at her and scoffing at her worry over the welfare and whereabouts of their kids.
"Tch," he scoffed and rolled his eyes as his eyebrows rose so far up onto his forehead that they almost disappeared into his widow's peak. "You worry too much, Woman. There's still time. Trunks' match doesn't start for another fifteen minutes. Our seats are right up there. Let her do what she wants, and the same goes for Trunks. They're half-Saiyans they can take care of themselves, Bulma."
The note of pride in his voice was unmistakable. Her Saiyan King, ever the voice of reason in their marriage. He had been supportive throughout her second pregnancy following Majin Buu's defeat, more so than Bulma could have hoped for, and now just look at the two of them. Proud parents to Trunks and Bulla Briefs.
Whenever she watched him spar with Trunks or teach her daughter how to defend herself, she thought her heart might swell then.
Being a wife, but more importantly, a mom to their two kids was way more amazing and incredible than she could have ever imagined. Chi-Chi and her mother both had told her once there was nothing more important in this world once your kids were in this world, caring for them, loving them.
Bulma, now that she was a mom, was more or less inclined to agree. Fate had smiled on the two of them, but only after Bulma had exercised her will to make that happen for herself and had chosen to pursue a life with Vegeta. Free will and fate weren't exactly absolutes.
Bulma knew this well, maybe better than most. They didn't cancel one another out. They worked together to form a person's life, and this year, just like the last five to six years, she and Vegeta had a new life together that was worth celebrating.
"C'mon, Geta," Bulma murmured under her breath, repressing the urge to roll her eyes as she heard Bulla shriek at something that Trunks was saying to his sister. "The Doomsayers have departed, we'd better make sure nobody starts anything or gets into a fight before it's his turn," Bulma sighed, though she didn't bother hiding the tiny grin that crept onto her face as she caught sight of two familiar faces, the same people she and Bulla had been looking for, for the better part of at least fifteen minutes.
Vegeta nodded and offered up a grunt by way of response, though she could have sworn he smiled a little bit at her. Bulma thought her husband really did look better and way younger whenever he smiled, which was rare, but a happy enough occasion for her whenever he managed it.
And she was glad that since she'd come into his life, and then after Bulla was born and the world was at peace, he smiled more often these days, but just for her and Bulla. With Trunks, he tended to take on a slightly harsher attitude towards his son, but Bulma could recognize he was trying to mold their son into a strong Saiyan warrior.
Bulma tugged her husband forward, giving the man's hand a light squeeze, and dragged him towards the source of whatever commotion was going on, for a small circle of their friends had gathered. Piccolo's tall, towering, green form was unmistakable, and there was Gohan next to him. Vegeta and Bulma arrived just in time to see Trunks in a heated debate with one of the other fighters he was up against.
To Trunks' immediate right and backing him up was Gohan. Prince Tarble and Gure were standing next to Gohan and waved. Krillin, Android 18, and their daughter were standing just behind Vegeta's brother.
The only ones who didn't look up were Gohan and Goten's parents. Their parents were eyeballing the scene with looks of amusement intermingled with utter disbelief. Bulma shot Goku a quizzical look and raised her eyebrows.
"What the hell is going on?" she asked sharply.
But Goku merely shook his head and ran a hand through his wild tuft of black hair, shooting Bulma a lopsided little grin and motioning for his lifelong friend to just watch. "Hey, Bulma, Vegeta, good to see you both. I dunno which one of 'em started it, but I wanna see how Trunks handles it. I guess the other one called your daughter a bad name."
Bulma's face reddened in anger at the thought of anyone calling her little girl something awful, though just one look at Vegeta out of the corner of her eye was more than enough. The ends of his hair were flickering from black to yellow, and if she couldn't get her mate to calm down, they were going to have a really serious problem on her hands.
He'd never dare admit it to anyone, but Bulma knew Bulla was a total daddy's girl. Vegeta spoiled Bulla and treated her in a way that was almost non-existent with their son. Trunks didn't seem to care one way or another, but Bulma cared.
Vegeta's expression was one of anger and exasperation as he pinched at the front of his temples with his thumb and forefinger, an angry red blush speckling along his cheeks.
Bulma sighed and lifted her gaze to look at Chi-Chi, who wore an equal look of tiredness and frustration on her face, though the moment Goku's wife caught someone looking at her, she lifted her chin and her hardened gaze softened considerably as she looked on her husband's second-best friend next to Krillin. "Bulma, dear, it's so good to see you," she muttered.
"What's wrong with you, jackass?! Quit staring at me!" came Trunks' voice, sounding angry as he cast a nervous glance towards his parents and then back to the older boy who had insulted his baby sister after she'd accidentally ran into him, not really watching where she'd been going.
Bulma sighed and came to rest both hands on either of her daughter's shoulders, not wanting a fight to break out before the next match. Whoever this older punk was looked to be a couple of years older than Trunks, and a real brat.
Bulma balled her hands into fists and rolled her neck to crack it as her temper threatened to consume her. She couldn't hold back her quip any longer, having waited to see what Trunks would do, which in this case was nothing.
"Get out of here and get lost or get hit, buddy, it's your choice, pal," Bulma snapped in a vicious snarl, cracking her knuckles as if to emphasize the thread she'd made.
Before Bulma could take another step forward, Piccolo stepped forward and intervened. "Settle down, all of you," the Namek commanded, his baritone voice a deep growl. "Whatever problem the two of you are having, save it for the fight. You should ask yourselves if this confrontation is worth it because you pick a fight here and now, they'll disqualify you both, and then we came this way for nothing." Piccolo grunted in frustration and kept his arms folded across his chest. He truly looked an imposing figure standing tall and proud like this, and the added breeze that wafted through the air and billowed his white cape around him only added to his powerful and authoritative look.
Bulma groaned and felt her shoulders slump in defeat. The damned bloody Namek was right as always. She let out a sigh as she turned away and steered her daughter towards the stadium stairs.
"C'mon guys, let's get our seats or all the good spots are gonna be taken," Bulma snapped.
The proud parents, however, paused as they heard Phil, the announcer, make one final call for the contestants to report to their designated spots before the match started.
"You got everything, Trunks?" Bulma murmured, bringing her hands up to her son's shoulders and giving them a squeeze as she shot her son an encouraging white smile.
"Towel, protein bar, and water, Mom," Trunks ticked off. "Thanks," he said, shooting his parents a playful smile.
Vegeta glanced over his shoulder, almost as if to make sure that their friends weren't watching and wound an arm around Trunks' shoulder, and pulled his son close. "Fight fair. Give that snot-nosed little shit seven shades of Saiyan hell, son. You know the rules. No going Super. And if you lose, don't bother going home," Vegeta barked hoarsely.
Trunks' face paled as he looked up into his father's eyes, though he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a twinkling sheen in Vegeta's black eyes, as he was only teasing him.
"Yes, Dad," Trunks said quietly. Despite the heaviness in his stomach at his dad's words, it also fluttered at the feeling of his body pressed against his father's. Trunks let himself sink into the warmth of his dad's side, appreciative of the simple gesture from his father, who wasn't all that great with emotions, at least around him. His touch made the arena feel warmer somehow, his victory almost certain.
"My turn, Vegeta," Bulma grinned, tapping Vegeta on his shoulder and watching as the proud father and husband relinquished his grip on his son and stepped back to allow his wife to step in, smiling a bit as Bulma hugged Trunks.
Trunks snuggled into his mother's warm embrace. "You're the only person I know that gives indefinite hugs, Mom."
Bulma snickered. "Well, Trunks, where else would I be?" At that moment, her arms squeezed a fraction tighter as Trunks felt his mom's chin come to rest on top of his hair.
Trunks breathed more slowly, his body melting into his mom's as every muscle lost the tension of his upcoming fight. This was life, real life, Bulma knew it, and she felt it.
And she wouldn't trade it for any wish in the world made by the Eternal Dragon. After a few minutes of letting herself just bask in the tranquility of the hug between mother and son, Bulma let Trunks go when she heard the announcer make the final call, sounding enthusiastic to see Trunks here again, as he claimed the fights weren't what they were used to commenting on when Goku hadn't shown up in a while.
"Go on, Trunks, the other fighters are waiting. Go," she urged, smiling, as both Trunks and Goten departed. She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle as Goten shot Bulla a strange look that Bulma couldn't quite interpret as her daughter offered Goku's youngest child a shy wave, her cheeks burning bright red as a fresh tomato. Bulma let out a sigh of contentment as Vegeta pulled her close, winding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, with Bulla standing in front of Bulma, seeming to take comfort in her mom keeping her hands planted firmly on her shoulders as they watched Trunks head over to the arena with the rest of the fighters.
Vegeta's embrace was warm, and his strong arms seemed very protective when wound around her body just like this.
The world around her seemed to melt away as she leaned into Vegeta's embrace. Bulma didn't want the moment to end, though it did, as Goku and Chi-Chi joined Bulma and Vegeta near the foot of the stairs that would take them up into the stadium and to their seats, falling into place alongside their friends, watching their sons prepare to duke it out in the ring, and hopefully take home the title.
Bulma tried to focus on her son's tall silhouette as he walked away from them in a relaxed, casual manner until he disappeared behind the doors of the congregation building and the doors closed slowly shut behind Trunks.
Instead, she kept finding herself marveling at her family. She wondered if their son and daughter would find someone to love one day, just as she had with Vegeta.
Bulma firmly believed that everyone deserved a shot at it. and she knew it sounded totally ridiculous that there was someone out there for everyone, including Trunks when he got a little older, and Bulla too, but Bulma believed in love.
After all, just look at what love had managed to give her. She knew that there were others who said there was no such thing as true love, that it was all just a bunch of mush that they didn't want or didn't have time for love.
That it could only end in heartbreak and pain, but Bulma believed that was the beauty of it. To have something so perfect for a while and then to disappear into nothing.
It was an endless loop, never-ending, always on the move. You never knew where it would take you. That was the thing about love. It's so beautiful and mysterious and even magical. Bulma believed everyone deserved a chance at love because they all deserved something magical.
And for her, her magic started that fateful night she'd hit Nappa over the eye with a frying pan, and Vegeta had saved her life from certain death at Lord Frieza's hands.
How something tragic had turned into something beautiful. Some might have called it false, but she knew it wasn't. Bulma chose to call what she and her husband had was love. Even now, as she turned her head to look into Vegeta's piercing black eyes and saw back at her reflected the feelings of her heart as he stared intensely at her, the two became one, and if that wasn't magic, well… then Bulma didn't really know what was.
What she and her husband had, their marriage, their children, she knew that no wish from the Eternal Dragon could ever grant her this.
Bulma turned away and wriggled out of Vegeta's grasp, moving to follow their friends up the stadium stairwell and take their seats, since Trunks' match was starting soon. Bulma, sensing that Vegeta was staring at her as she firmly guided her five-year-old daughter towards the stairs, turned back and smiled at Vegeta, just as a light breeze tousled her short blue hair and blew her bangs off her forehead.
Vegeta froze as he stared at his Woman toying with a lock of her hair before tucking it back behind her right ear.
Bulma was always so damned proud of her hair, but it wasn't the best thing about his wife, though it was so blue and striking it was often the only thing anyone ever commented on it whenever the two were out in public.
But Vegeta never gave a damn. In fact, he hardly noticed it. It was his wife's eyes blues that were the true prize, among other things.
As he looked at her, his mind's eye was taken back to the first time he'd laid eyes on her, even before saving her life from Nappa and Frieza, back on Namek when he'd barely so much as given her a second thought, until her face was one of the last things burning in his retinas, when Lord Frieza had killed him back then.
It wasn't on the perfect features of Bulma's face that he dwelled—not her bright blue eyes or pomegranate pink lips, so full and luscious and always ripe for a quick kiss. Instead, it was the small blemishes and insecurities that allured Vegeta to Bulma, even after a few years of their marriage, and he knew it would stay this way for the rest of their lives. The small scar on her forehead just above her right eyebrow, the only reminder that Lord Frieza had ever had Bulma in his crosshairs, where the freak had hit her. The shy, sweet smile, the way she quirked her arched eyebrows whenever she was trying to make up her mind or thinking about something that was bothering her then.
Back in the forest when he had first marked her, was the moment that Vegeta realized he had found his mate, his wife, the person who was perfectly imperfect for the King of All Saiyans.
And now, as he looked at Bulma, he lost himself completely. All the mistakes he knew he'd ever made, of which there had been many—were gone, every impure and vile, wicked thought erased. All the negativity was cleansed from him, almost like spiritual enlightenment.
Vegeta knew Bulma's blue eyes could see right through him, those pale blue eyes of hers that were so beautiful and unsettling to him at the same time. The windows to her very soul. But Vegeta knew they didn't dwell on the anger, the hurt, the deceit, the selfishness, and sometimes arrogant pride from the early days of their partnership when he'd behaved possessively towards her.
But it had paid off, for his Woman was now his wife. Something that he had never thought he would have. Bulma Briefs looked past every single flaw to find the man inside, the true Saiyan warrior, proud husband, and father to their children that he was. She had given him something worth fighting for. A new home, a family that he was fond of. She looked past his eyes to see who he was, the real Vegeta, and beyond the mask of bravado that he wore for others. And at that moment, as their gazes met and their eyes locked as the husband and wife stared at one another, Vegeta felt his legs move of their own accord as he slowly climbed the steps to sit alongside his wife and daughter.
He knew. He knew that he was perfectly imperfect for her too. And that, Vegeta decided was more than good enough.
Vegeta decided he wouldn't have it any other way.