Harvest of the Soulless
By Poe
Chapter 4: Where the Wicked Perish
"Why have I painted myself this color?
To be born just to die.
Who will be the corpse in my grave?"
I saw below me a forest. I remembered that forest, it had narrowly escaped industrialization. Environmental groups had saved it, and despite Japan's conservative politics, the small patch of woods remained. I felt a connection to that forest, right now more than ever. Like the forest, I was caught in trouble that I had no hand in creating, but was near ruin. I decided to land in the woods, away from everyone else but never too far from civilization.
The ground neared as I dove downward, pushing against the fierce winds that had risen from my rushed descent. It wasn't long before I passed the level of the treetops and was closing the gap between the earth and me. Branches whipped my face and the needles from the trees tried to dig into my skin. When the ground had come close enough to land, I slowed to a hover and gently touched the ground with my feet, slowly letting go of the ki that held me up.
I looked at the scenery around me and sat down. The forest was certainly not the bland, concrete cityscape I had grown accustomed to. It wasn't all that beautiful, but it was wilderness, which was exactly what I needed. No people, just trees and earth. Just me and no one else.
I thought about my father and Bulma and how Bra acted as though she liked my father. It was all I could think about; the issue was so present to me. The hands that were at the ground on the dirt balled into fists and tears welled up in my eyes. Damn them for turning their backs on me. Damn my father for making me believe he was a good person and then deceiving me in such a painfully unusual way. It seemed like punishment for being naive and thinking that my father was an exception to the rule that all men are jerks.
I blinked the tears away, trying to be strong. I was 18, I wasn't supposed to cry about problems that weren't my fault. But all of this was just too much. Bulma and my father? It wasn't right. Bulma I could imagine being unfaithful, but my father? Everything was becoming so unreal; life was fading into a beautiful dream gone wrong. Was this truth supposed to fit into my life like every other fact I've learned to cope with?
More tears came and I cupped my face in my dirty hands and sobbed into them. I couldn't hold back, this was horrible. Happiness had left me just like in the dream. Thinking about the dream made me want to go back, so badly, to just yesterday before I went to sleep. A yesterday when I didn't care about anything but Vegeta, and if he liked me.
I cried more, mostly because I wasn't used to crying. No matter how depressed I was, I didn't let myself be weak and cry. But now, everything had hit so fast and so near to me. My family and friends had abandoned me and each other. Was I supposed to live with this? How could I?
I thought about what would happen in the future. My parents divorcing, my father marrying someone else, and, ultimately, my life falling to pieces. At least, what was left of it. I was still lost and broken from loving someone who didn't love me, and then another problem had hit me hard like an unexpected blow to the face.
I was sitting there, in some forest in the middle of the urban sprawl, thinking that I could escape from this. In a way, just being away from the characters that had inspired so much sorrow in my life was good. This, however, could still not take away the pain. I didn't care how long I cried, it still felt like the pain would never go away. My own father and my boyfriend's mother had cursed me with more sorrow. Such deception, such betrayal.
I passed a bit of time with tears of anger streaming down my face. The trees above me would rustle as the wind sighed, the cold air stinging my face where the tears had been. I could hear the occasional passing car in the distance, and see some streetlights far off. I stared at the yellow lights, trying to feel as warm as the color. I tried to feel like I had meaning, just like the trees in the forest, the grass in a field, and the lamppost hanging in a coalmine. I tried to feel like I meant something; that if I died someone would care. I tried to ignore the blow to my self-esteem that came from my father completely abandoning my feelings, and all for just one woman.
And just as that thought crossed my mind, I felt a ki signature.
It shot across me and I jerked out of my gloomy state as the ki signature passed across me. I sighed in exhaustion as I realized that it was Vegeta. What was he doing now and why was he there?
"Oh great, something else to bother me," I muttered. The ki was heading my way at a slow and steady pace. When I got to thinking about it, it wasn't that surprising to see that he had followed me. There must've been a logical explanation. But then again, I wasn't as curious as I usually am.
"Vegeta, I should've known. Him and his midnight visits," I muttered, growing bitterer by the second. He obviously had waited to follow me, or else it would seem suspicious. I imagined what would've happened it he followed me right after I left; my father would probably stop him thinking he would hurt me. Hell, for all I knew he would. At this point, I couldn't care less.
I stopped crying and stood up, searching out his figure. Even in my state I wasn't really all that disappointed to see him. He obviously wouldn't give me a lecture on respecting my parents no matter what. This was Vegeta, not my uncle.
I saw him approaching me from the skies and my fists tightened in anticipation. He took his sweet time landing, when was he ever in a hurry to see me? When he finally landed before me, I crossed my arms.
"Well, what is it now?"
The pine needles around him scattered, and dust lifted a bit as he landed, but started to settle once he was finished. He looked emotionless until I asked him my question in a menacing tone and his eyes narrowed. He didn't seem to notice that I wasn't surprised at his visit, and it wasn't much of a shocker to me either.
"You know little of the Saiyan race."
I was brushing tears away from my face with the back of my hand, but I stopped when he said that. "My father's an asshole. What else do I need to know?"
"That a Saiyan will never be satisfied by a member of another race. Physically, that is."
I cringed. "You came here to say that? Why is this important?"
He scoffed, his aristocratic face crumpling like a piece of paper. "It's essential to this entire, disgusting display of primal instinct."
His comment confused me, but I ignored it. "Why are you talking about Saiyans only being satisfied by Saiyans when my father was with Bulma?"
"It won't stay that way. The girl has an attraction towards him, it won't be long before he stops resisting her."
He referred to Bra as "the girl". I wondered why he wouldn't say her name. "Bra likes my father? Just because he's Saiyan?"
"Why else would she like him?" he said, scornfully.
"I don't know, that's what makes this so bizarre. So, basically, you're saying that they're going to end up with each other just because they're both Saiyan?"
"Yes, without a doubt."
"So he's going to abandon Bulma for Bra like he abandoned my mother?" All of this was very sudden and hard to believe. I kept hearing speculation and thought when what I needed was tangible proof. However, speculation would prove more useful than I would imagine.
"He's confusing his emotions for Bulma with the primal lust he has for the only Saiyan he can be with. That charming speech on how he loves her was nothing more than him loosing grip on his understandings of the Saiyan race."
This was certainly a revelation for me. It explained why I felt so strongly about Vegeta, but it still didn't answer why I didn't like Trunks.
"This is insane. You're saying that my father's going to be attracted to Bra and that she likes him already, and that they're eventually going to end up together?"
"You're catching on," he said, cynical as ever. I sat down in frustration, my back towards him.
"I don't need this right now."
"Spoiled brat, this is something you must know!"
"Why?"
He loomed over me and glared. "You're more human than I thought."
I stood up and spun around, facing him with my hands planted on my hips. "Not to be repetitive or anything, but I don't think I believe you."
"You don't want to believe it. You can convince yourself it's not true, but that isn't going to stop it from happening. Nothing can stop it but death." He seemed pretty certain of himself.
I sighed in frustration and said, "If you knew that Bra and my father were bound to happen, despite the fact that you saw him with Bulma and he declared his love for her, and nothing you or I or even him could do anything to stop it, then why did you become so angry all of a sudden? Why were you so desperate to find my father?"
"I knew about his affair with my former mate, but I was convinced the brat had feelings for your uncle."
"Wait, you though Bra liked Uncle Goten?"
"She did at one point."
"How do you know this?"
"The pest reminded me of it whenever I was angry at her. It was her way of wining an argument." His face grew colder as he spoke.
"And then she changed her mind and fell for my father? Is that what made you so angry?"
"No, of course not," he started, ignoring my quizzical expression, "I don't give a damn who she chooses to have some schoolgirl infatuation with, I was infuriated because she was going to go through with it. She didn't manage to this time, but I came to a realization. She would, eventually. It didn't matter who it was, she would always feel an attraction towards a Saiyan over a human."
"And what were to happen if they actually did get together? What part of Bra and my father did you have a problem with?"
He grew angered. "He would spoil her!"
"Spoil?"
"Take her! Ruin her!"
"Oh," I said, looking down at the floor.
"I could not allow such an offense to the royal bloodline, even if it meant stopping an irrational teenager from following through with her emotions."
I decided to throw out an unimportant question just out of curiosity. "Ok, I understand that part. But you said that a Saiyan always chooses a Saiyan over another species, why has my whole family chosen humans? And what would happen if the only Saiyans left were related to her?"
"What do you think?" he snapped. The conversation was agitating him, but these things had to be said.
"I don't know! You're the expert on Saiyan relationships!"
"Your family is no exception to the rule. They have the same primal urges, just fail to recognize her. As for the ridiculous question on what would happen if the only Saiyans left were of relation to her, then she would have no choice but to be with that person. This is the way our population thrives, and it was supposed to keep out bloodline pure."
With that logic, Vegeta would have to be attracted to my Grandfather. They were, at one point, the only Saiyans left. But probably, male-male relationships were an exception to the rule considering it was nature's way of keeping the population high. I didn't ask him about it, of course.
"It makes sense, but it can't be true! Bra and my father? That's horrible!"
"The truth seldom isn't when you're a warrior. Something I'm sure you'll never really understand."
"Well then why don't I like Trunks?" I blurted out, and then quickly covered my mouth with my hand. How could I have said that? It was unrelated to the topic at hand, had it been weighing on my all that time?
Vegeta smirked. "Why would you like a half-Saiyan when you have a full-Saiyan right in front of you?"
Silence.
His words crushed me with so many emotions and questions. Did he know I liked him? Did he like me back? A sense of excitement shot through me. This could finally mean we could be together, even if it meant that Bra and my father would too. I decided to ask the questions I had waited to ask for so long.
"Then I'm supposed to feel an attraction towards you? And likewise, you're supposed to be attracted towards me? Does that mean I can't be with anyone else but you? And you and Bulma, and Trunks and I, we're all finished with each other?"
He didn't answer me, but instead leisurely walked towards me. My eyes widened. He looked sinister, and he was walking towards me after I had asked if we were supposed to be together.
I was too scared to be happy.
"Why aren't you answering my questions?"
He continued approaching me, silent. Vegeta reached me, and then turned and headed so he was behind me, facing my back. Could it be? Was he going to make a move? I had been waiting for this for so long.
Was he finally going to accept me?
"Is this why you came?" I didn't turn around, I stood rigid and afraid.
His arms snaked around me and I inhaled sharply. I expected it, but shock still flooded me and I tensed up.
"Neither of us can escape this, it was my duty to confront the issue."
"You call this, 'confronting the issue'? That's sick, you know that?"
I heard a sardonic chuckle from him. He pulled me closer and I felt my all my thoughts becoming drenched with the color of his eyes. He could feel my heart beat furiously; I was so shy around him. He was so much older, it bothered that he wasn't nervous around me like Trunks was.
But it didn't matter. I was warm, not from heat, but from being near him. My loneliness was gone so fast, torn from me, and so much more was given to me. Holding me was Vegeta, something I could finally take for granted.
"So this was your plan? To come out here in the woods and seduce me?"
"I wouldn't use that wording, but yes," he said, slyly.
"Did you think to consider that I might not like this?"
"Are you afraid, little girl?" Vegeta whispered harshly in my ear, his arm crushing my back to his chest. The hold he had on me was one of sheer male dominance, no romance. Had I been a human, I wouldn't have been able to breath. I tried to struggle, but I couldn't lie about how comfortable it was. I gave a half-hearted attempt to free myself and then gave up, I couldn't leave it.
"Of course I'm not afraid." I gathered my courage. I felt his tongue run up the nape of my neck and a chill shot through me.
"You even taste young," he said with a tone saturated with lust. I shuddered, and new feelings welled up in me that I felt I could not control.
"I can't do this!" I blurted out, feigning more struggle. "I can't stop thinking about how horrible it is that Bra is going to be with my father. I can't just start a relationship with you."
"You can't?" he said, running his thumb across my jaw, "And yet you're so full of want. You need me right now, that you can't deny."
He saw inside to my soul, how could he do that? "This is all too much for me."
What was he doing to me? I hated not knowing his intentions. Was he just using me or taking me seriously? I decided to make it clear.
"I'm not your toy," I said when he didn't let go of me. He snickered.
"Scared I'll do what I want with you?"
"Not scared. Just not looking forward to it."
"Lying is a bad thing," he said tauntingly, dragging his fingers across my waist. More shivers and adrenaline coursed through me. Would I be a woman to need this? Could he make me one?
A part of me wanted to scream. I meant nothing to him, and there was nothing he could give me that I needed. I was just his pawn, his plaything that he would use to his liking. And yet, like he said, I needed him so much. I would be crushed if I had to leave him, even though I was still shaken up about Bra and my father.
Still there was something I wanted from him. Something beyond the physical realm, something beyond just excitement and thrills.
Love.
I wanted love.
A part of me collapsed. I could have him now, with instinct as an excuse. If I gave in to him, I would lose so little and gain so much more. I would be with him, even if it meant giving up my pride and giving in to my emotions. My pride started to deteriorate at the thought of him and I together.
I'd do anything for him.
I forced myself to turn around, and at first he wouldn't let me. After he realized what I was doing, he loosened his grip. I squirmed a bit into place before I faced him, pressing against his iron chest, my hands trapped between us. I looked up at him, trying not to be shy, but I'm sure my coyness reflected in my eyes.
He had beautiful eyes, at least to me. They swallowed light and seeped into me, branding an image on my soul. While others would say they were just black, they were so much more to me. They would mean more to me than anyone else could imagine. I was so near every part of him, and that was so wonderful to me.
I fit in his arms.
I felt something seep into me that took over and turned my pain-ridden thoughts of Bra and my father to dust. Here was my escape from the pain, just indulgence and comfort. He could make me forget about me wanting him, about how I hurt Trunks by not loving me, about how my father betrayed me. He could make me happy, if just for one second, as I had wanted to be for so long. Even though things had gone straight to hell with this whole Bra/Bulma scandal, he could be my fleeting mirage of paradise.
My hands found themselves to the back of his neck, and entwined, locked myself around him. He stared at me mostly emotionless but with a hint of shock, but I could tell he would know what I was about to do. I could've been worried he would refuse me, but I wasn't. I wasn't thinking, just feeling. I had to be forward to get what I wanted, so I had to do what I wanted.
No more pain, just us together. I knew it was wrong, but if I were to perish, I would want nothing more to perish with him.
I tugged gently on him, bringing his head closer so I could kiss him. He didn't hesitate, as I thought he might, but dove in. In one sweeping movement, his lips were inches from mine. My breath heaved in anticipation against his chest, feeding his ego. So much so that before he kissed me, he stopped.
"I won't stop. Is this what you want?"
Him and I together.
No distance, no barriers, just us and all the happiness I could contain.
Him and I together.
I didn't answer with words. Instead, I tilted my head a bit forwards until out lips finally met.
It was all I could ever want.