Chapter 4 The True meaning
Vegeta's main passion in life was to fight. Of course. It is the passion for all saiyans. But because he was the 'prince', its amplified. When he lived on the compound, all he talked about was training to beat Goku. "I need to know how that country bumpkin did it," he would say during the Namek's stay. I would ignore him. The more and more he talked, the more annoyed I got. As everyone waited for six months to come in order to wish Goku and the others back, Vegeta was so at war with himself. I couldn't find a peaceful moment. I remember one night we celebrated Dende's approximate birthday we called it, since he really didn't know himself. Everyone came, even Piccolo, on account of Nail. We all had a great time. The elder, Mouri, danced with my mom, and Gohan tried his best to make Piccolo do a step. He wouldn't budge. As I headed over to the refreshment table to get some punch, I noticed Vegeta staring at me as he leaned on one of the fake trees in the gathering room. Not saying a word, not smiling. Just frowning and staring. "What?" I asked. He said nothing. "What is it, Vegeta?" No response. So I approached him. "What do you what?" he demanded. "Me? You're the one staring at me!" "I was not! I have better things to do than look at you and that ridiculous shirt!" I had on a cherry red tube top on with the word 'panty' embezzled on it and some cut up jeans. He likes it. He thinks I look cute in it. "You think I look cute in this, Vegeta?" He turned away. "Come again? Yeah right! I, I think its, its, just go away!" And I did and that was the first and only time we spoke for six months.
He left in dad's spaceship shortly before Yamcha was wished back to life, since Goku wasn't dead. I watched him fly through the atmosphere, and I thought to call for him. But I chose not to. I was concerned. Why is he leaving? Did he really have that much passion to destroy Goku? What a sad ambition, I thought.
Being with Yamcha again reawakened my fascination about him. Many days we would just sit on my balcony and look into each other's eyes. Then he would say slowly, "Bulma, I'm glad I'm alive with you again. This time, I won't leave you, for anything." And all I could say is "I love you." And we would kiss. And we were together again. He would never miss calling me when I paged him. He came by everyday with some new surprise for me, like bears, candy and jewelry, fake or not. He did any and everything I asked. I was in love again. But it didn't feel the same. I fell in love, but it wasn't the right fall. Something was missing. His kisses failed to move me like it used to. His hands never touched that nerve in me. Making love to him was more like an ordeal than pleasure. I tried to figure this out without bringing it up to him. I knew if I did this, we would surely argue like we used to. I was losing interest in Yamcha. And my mind was set on someone new. I started having other desires.
I'll never forget that night. It was fall, but still warm outside. I had the windows open on my floor to try and get a breeze. There was no sense turning the air on. It was fall. I had just got out of a warm bath, ready to read a book entitled Relationships and the People who Suck at them, to try and find an answer about my dilemma with Yamcha. As I laid in bed in my pajama tank and boxers, I attempted to read the book. It was so incredibly boring. I thought, why should I read a stupid book that knows nothing about my Yamcha? I turned out the light and went to sleep.
In my dreams, I saw myself running down the middle of a street. Around me, buildings laid at waste. People were dying before my eyes. They all kept saying, "Save him, before he kills us all!" Save whom? Then it began to snow, and their bodies were covered in its essence. I continued to run. Faster and faster I ran, as it became colder. Who am I running to? I reached a corner, and in the side of my view, I noticed blood. Tiny drops of blood formed a trail into an alley. "Save him, please." I screamed from the discovery of the body behind me. It appeared to be a zombie, but it wasn't decaying. In fact, it looked like a female saiyan. I nodded and continued on. The blood became thicker and more stained. Then I heard moaning. It became more painful and louder as I approached. At the end of the alley, I saw the most terrifying shadow of a demon on the wall. I gasped in fear, but when I turned to run, a wall blocked me. And I was boxed in with this demon. Suddenly, wings of an angel grew from my back, and I became warm. The closer I walked to the demon, he groaned and threatened to kill me, but I ignored the threats. And then I saw him. Vegeta was shivering, shivering in the snow, bloody and bruised. "Who did this to you?" I asked. "He did," the shadow of Vegeta answered. "Leave us be! Or I'll rip you to pieces! We don't need weaklings like you in our life! We are the strongest in the universe and we will rule all! Beginning with Earth!" "But why? Why all the destruction, all the pain? Haven't enough innocent people suffered?" And it was silent. It had not a reason to kill. I kneeled down to Vegeta and tried to gather him. "C'mon, now." He chuckled and whispered, "My princess, my angel came to save her demon of a prince." Then he passed out. And I woke up. I was practically frozen. My balcony was covered in snow.