When the phone alarmed against him Vegeta awoke faster than he ever had in his life. Before he'd even wiped the sleep from his eyes he quickly shut off the alarm and checked his texts:
Nothing.
Bulma always text him good morning. It was so routine he didn't realize that not seeing it would cause these torrent of emotions. Resisting the urge to throw his phone Vegeta instead exhaled through his nose, threw the covers off and stormed to his closet.
The hollow, empty feeling in his chest from the night before still lingered, and for once his morning run could not come fast enough. Every day at 6:45 am Vegeta would throw on his trainers and take a five mile trot around the city. Thankfully, it was Saturday so he could easily avoid Capsule Corp and the blue haired distraction he was sure would be walking around. Bulma was always there, day off or not tinkering with her inventions. Her dedication to her craft was one of the many things Vegeta admired about her, and more than anything he wished he knew what was going on in that brain of hers. He had surely acted the fool last night, but he couldn't have messed up that badly.
Could he?
Still ignoring the food on the table, Vegeta left his apartment. He opted to take the stairs down to the first floor, the sound of his shoes echoing off the concrete walls.
The brisk morning air burned his lungs, the ear buds blasting music into his brain. For a few blissful minutes he thought about nothing except the pavement pounding under the soles of his shoes and his breathing. This was his therapy. All his life Vegeta had felt like he was running; usually it was away from his troubles. It worked for certain things, but in the last twenty four hours it had caused him nothing but trouble. Coffee. He needed coffee. His favorite coffee shop was just three blocks away. His caffeine fix was growing closer. That would make this awkward day somewhat easier.
Or so he thought until the he saw her entering the crosswalk.
What was she doing in this part of town?
Her manicured hands were clutching two cups of coffee, the expression of her face distracted. Bulma was just getting into the middle of the intersection heading his way. Had she grabbed a cup for him? Part of him selfishly hoped so. Why else would she be walking in the direction of his apartment? Vegeta's running pace decreased, heart pounding instead of slowing with his milder movement. Finally, Bulma seemed to realize there were eyes on her, and looked up.
Her face seemed to brighten when she noticed Vegeta nearing her, and while she wasn't smiling she didn't look displeased to see him.
His feet were still moving although it was now a slow jog. He was maybe fifteen paces from her. Bulma was almost to his side of the street, her own walk quickening.
A car horn blaring suddenly filled Vegeta's ears, the screeching of tires causing goose flesh to rise on his arms.
Three paces left.
The shiny black sedan that had run the red light was in his field of vision, Bulma's head turning to her right to watch the vehicle barreling towards her. She had stopped moving, mouth open and body frozen.
For Vegeta, time slowed. He had already reached her by this point and was now on top of her, wrapping his arms protectively around her body and twisting her to the left. Arms locked tightly in that moment he wanted nothing more to keep holding her, to tell her he was sorry for last night, to maybe kiss her again, but instead he let her go and shoved as hard as he could. Bulma sprawled onto the sidewalk just as Vegeta felt the vehicle impact on his hip. The world flipped over and over as he was thrown, an unnerving sense of calm enveloping him. Bulma was safe, Vegeta thought. That was all that mattered. He hoped she didn't hate him still. Did she know how he felt?
How he felt...
He...
Then all feeling came to a crashing halt as his cheek hit the concrete.
Before the world went black, Vegeta's vision was filled with the blue of Bulma's eyes staring at him in horror, and the sound of his name being screamed.
"Keep driving, damnit!" The front seat passenger hissed, looking over his shoulder through the back window as the black sedan raced through the street and into a back alleyway. There was already a crowd of people gathering in a circle around the downed man, the target of their un-executed hit wailing his name and crying, "I can't believe you fucking missed!" The man snarled, slapping the driver in the temple.
"Ouch! Zarbon, I didn't count on that guy pushing her out of the way!" Dodoria whined.
From the darkened backseat, their boss chuckled, "Would you two children stop fighting? Do you have any idea who you just ran over? Oh, it was so sweet I can still taste it."
Both henchmen in the front seat quieted, looking first at one another, then the one named Zarbon looking back at the shaded figure, "No boss, who?"
Another chuckle, "That was Vegeta you fools."
Zarbon's mouth fell open, "Wha- that was little monkey?"
"Yes," the voice from the backseat was dripping with pleasure, "the street urchin all grown up. Serves him right for what he did to my father. That was far more pleasurable than running over the interfering bimbo."
"But boss," Dodoria spoke up, "what about the Briefs lady? Should we-"
"No," the voice snapped, "not yet. Hopefully that speed bump will die and she will disappear for a bit. Then we can make our move."
The vehicle eventually came to a stop in front of a warehouse, two henchmen running out to guard the garage door as it rose and the car disappeared inside. Zarbon and Dodoria exited the front seats once it was placed in park, and a man with an unsightly orange tan and bleached white hair appeared. He opened the back passenger door and out stepped a small, white figure, far smaller than anyone around him.
The small man adjusted his dress shirt cuff, "Jeice, I'll need the receipts from collection this afternoon."
"Yes sir." Jeice's Australian accent quivered as he handed his boss a thick booklet, "All counted and ready Mr. Frieza."
Frieza smirked, thumbing through the thin sheets, "Excellent. You've done well. Make sure you burn the car. Use the good incinerator. I don't want a single trace left behind. I'm trusting you to do this. Understood?"
Jeice nodded, shoulders relaxing, "Yes sir."
The new crime lord of the Icejin known as Frieza took his leave then, heading up the stairs to his penthouse suite, Zarbon following close behind.
"Make sure Jeice is in the car when the fire starts." Frieza muttered over his shoulder, "The booklet is missing pages. No one cheats me."
Zarbon smirked, "Whatever you wish, sir." Then pulled out his cell phone.
Frieza would watch his demand come to fruition a short time later on his security television while sitting in a plush chair, drinking a fine glass of wine with his first in command by his side.
"Pity," Zarbon sighed, the vehicle becoming engulfed in flames on the monitor, "I liked that car."
"Yes well," Frieza chuckled as Jeice's muffled screams came through the speakers, "I'll get you another. Tell me Zarbon, do you think he will be crippled?"
"Jeice, sir?"
"No," Frieza said darkly, "the little monkey. I hope he cannot walk and pisses himself. I hope he suffers so that death will be a reprieve. And then, when he can no longer stand his miserable existence I wish he dies alone, like he always has been. He ruined my family, put my father in jail, and then became a goody-goody working for that company. Who could have believed such a thing! He had such potential back then. With Capsule Corp growing the way it has I thought taking care of the inventors daughter would solve all our problems, but this is almost sweeter, don't you agree?" He smirked at Zarbon, who had gone slightly pale, "I thought Vegeta was no longer an issue with his office being closed down and all, but, ho ho with he pushing Briefs out of the way and the look on that her face it would say otherwise. I hope he's not dead just yet, because I think there are far worse ways to kill a person without their life being ended. Don't you agree?"
Swallowing, Zarbon nodded, "Of course, sir." He took another sip of wine, watching with a new, strange sense of unease as the interior of the car on television erupted into flames, the screams from within going silent.