-Vernon Baker
The world below seemed oddly still. The sun had just slipped beneath the horizon, lending color to the monotony of clouds overhead. No birds flew from branch to branch. The trees, unadorned with leaf or flower, stood silent and stationary with no breeze to stir their branches.
High above a man hovered, wordlessly surveying the scene before him. He clenched his hands tightly into fists and his shoulders were knotted with tension. His coal-black eyes conveyed his thoughts; he was uncertain, and yet yearning. Slowly, he raised his head to the heavens and scanned the sky as if looking for something. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and shook his head; no sign had appeared to him, no omen to make his decision any easier. He was on his own. Resolutely, he opened his eyes and began his descent to the ground below.
The warrior wearily placed his feet on the soft grass leading to the door of the domed building. He was tired. Bone-numbingly tired. Yet he felt an odd thrill of exultation. He was home. After years of solitude and loneliness, he had finally returned.
But he was afraid of what he would find behind the door that beckoned to him. Would he find acceptance? Or something else?
Determined, he moved forward, narrowing the distance between him and the uncertain future. So much had happened to him; he wasn't sure if he was the same man who left here all those years ago. But he needed to come home. He needed this place of comfort after everything that happened to him.
He needed her.
Before he even reached the porch, the front door swung open and he saw her standing there. She was so beautiful, even clad in simple jeans and T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back from her face into a high ponytail. Her glorious blue eyes widened in shock and she raised her hand to her mouth. He heard her whisper his name in disbelief before she bolted out the doorway at a dead run. She flung herself into his arms, all the while whispering his name softly. He wanted to remember this moment forever, from the spicy scent of her hair to the dampness seeping through his gi.
She pulled back and looked him as if re-memorizing his features. With a trembling hand, she reached up and started to trace the sharp contours of his face. When she reached his cheek, she stopped.
"Yamcha? What happened?" she asked softly.
Scars
Prologue - Coming Home
by Lady Lark
The large man looked down at her shocked face. Her eyes widened, as she noticed more and more differences that were etched on the face of the man who stood before her. Sighing in resignation, he lifted his hand to clasp her slender fingers. He brought her hand to his heart and placed the palm there gently. The two remained that way for several minutes, just staring into the others face.
Drinking in her soft features, he slowly drew in a breath and for the first time spoke. "Bulma, oh Kami, I've missed you," he breathed. Raising his hand to her face, he gently stroked his thumb across the high cheekbone. Softly, as if under his breath, he continued to speak haltingly. "Kami . . . so much has happened. So much has changed." He paused shaking his head and his thoughts turned inward. "I don't know where to start," he murmured.
The woman slid her palm up his chest to rest her fingers lightly on his lips. "Shhhhh . . ." she soothed. "You don't have to tell me everything now. Just tell me you're alright and that will do for the moment." Bulma moved her hand across his cheek to cup his face gently.
Yamcha leaned his head into her palm, relishing her touch, before replying. "I --- I think I'm okay," he said slowly, uncertainly. "I need to tell you what happened. You're the one person on this planet I care the most about; you deserve to hear the full story."
She nodded mutely. Letting her feet rest against the ground completely, she eased herself out of his light embrace. He watched her reach down and clasp his large hand in her small one. "Let's go inside. I'll make you some tea and we'll talk."
The weary warrior smiled weakly. "That sounds like a good idea.
I think we'd better call Puar too, later. But there are some parts
only you should hear." She looked at him sharply, attempting to fathom
the meanings behind his words. Still, she said nothing and hand-in-hand,
she led him into the domed house.
Author's Notes:
First I would like to that Mistress Storm Crow for Betaing this.
This is one of the stories that I have slowly been working on. It was inspired by a question posted to alt.fan.dragonball about where Yamcha got his scars from. No one knew and Toriyama never went into it. So thus the germ of a story was born. This fiction is fairly difficult for me, because most of the story is going to be told in flash back from a First Person Perspective. I have never used the first person viewpoint before and I am much more comfortable in the thrid person limited or limited omniscient. Not to mention it is going to delve fairly heavily into Yamcha's past. Another problem that I am having with this story is the content, I normally write Drama and Romance based fics and while this story is dramatic, it is also highly action-oriented. So this one is likely to be very slow in coming out.
Other stuff on the writing front, I am a paid member of FF.net so if you add me to your author alerts you will get a message saying when I update. Starting on Feb 19, 2002, I will be publishing the first section of the sequel to "Who Wants to Live Forever" called Legacy. From then on I will be posting a new section once a month until the story is done. ^_^ So no more massive waits. "I am" is currently on hiatus. I am going back and rewriting the first few published parts and then having them beta'd. It was my first story and it shows. "The Hunter and the Housewife" is coming along nicely. I have the story all plotted out and some of the key scenes hashed out. The next chapter should be out soon. Finally, I am on the hunt for a few new beta readers. Which may slow things down a bit. Currently Mia Skywalker is Betaing for me, and she does an excellent job, but I don't want to overload her.
Please be sure to read and review.
Talk to you later!