Yamucha was unaware that war of a kind had been declared on him, even though it had from two separate fronts. Bulma, for her part, was more determined than ever to keep him; and Vejiita, for his, was determined to see him roast.
The problem with this new and pointed urge was that Vejiita did not want it there. Yamucha wasn't worth his time; nothing about the unfaithful earthling would have provided Vejiita with more than a few minutes of entertainment, either in mind or in body. So why the sudden desire to make him die?
No, scratch that - to make him suffer. There was a distinct difference between the two, which Vejiita knew quite well after being under Freeza for so many years. He wanted to see Yamucha suffer with a vengeance that made no sense, and the passion of it disturbed him.
Vejiita spent much of the next day thinking, and came to a conclusion. It wasn't his woman. Wasn't his problem. In fact, by the end of the afternoon, when the next wish of the dragon was being made and Tenshinhan and Chaozu were being brought back from the dead, he decided that it was so much not his problem that he wasn't going to deal with it anymore.
And with that, he ran away. Not fifteen minutes after Tenshinhan and Chaozu rejoined their friends, Vejiita stole Bulma's spaceship and fled the earth.
He claimed the need to train as his reason; Bulma claimed male stupidity and stubbornness. Kuririn blamed no one at all and simply thanked the gods Vejiita was gone.
Time passed, peace came and stayed for a while, and the Z-warriors, having not much else to do, hung around the Capsule Corporation and took a well deserved vacation
Dende had to pause at this point and get a drink. He'd been talking for well over an hour, and his throat was sore. "Ahh... that's much better," he said with a smile, handing the empty glass back to Mr. Popo. "I was beginning to think I'd have to stop."
To his credit, Mr. Popo did not look upset at this suggestion. "Ah," he said, trying to convince himself that he was not eager and was only listening to relieve the young Kami's excess energy, "I would like to hear the rest, Mr. Dende - but only if you're not overly tired."
Interpreting Popo's guarded response as enthusiasm, Dende beamed and bounced in his seat. "Isn't it GREAT? It's just WONDERFUL! I LOVE this story!"
Mr. Popo could not help but smile. "Of course, sir. Please continue, whenever you are ready."
Dende smiled. "This is the part where they both start thinking," he said, and continued his story.
Vejiita had stayed away from the earth for a little more than a year; it would be perfectly honest to say that during this time, he never really thought of Bulma at all. He trained; he sought out more of Freeza's men, random volatile aliens and meteor fields, and tested his mettle successfully against them all.
However, for some reason this all failed to make him happy. No matter what he did - no matter how many rocks he smashed, people he killed or weapons he defeated - Vejiita was unable to achieve the transformation to Super Saiyan.
The most frustrating thing was that he did not know why. He KNEW he was working harder than Kakarotto ever had; his exhaustion every time he lay down to sleep was such that every muscle in his body shook. He spent every waking moment working toward the perfection of his body; honing his mind and his skills toward the excellence that came with a well executed kill. But he seemed to be getting no closer.
What was the clue? What little, stupid, insignificant detail was he missing that Kakarotto had easily caught? It couldn't be anything genetic; Vejiita knew he had the right lineage. It also couldn't be discipline; it galled Vejiita in a deep and unforgivable way that he worked harder than Kakarotto, yet still was behind him in power.
So then WHAT WAS IT?
...Vejiita did not know; and after a while, he grew tired of looking. Perhaps that was why he decided to return to earth.
It was August, 764. Vejiita had been gone for almost a full year, and almost nothing of any importance had happened while he as gone. Gokuu had yet to return; nothing had attacked them, and nobody knew where either Gokuu or Vejiita were.
No one else seemed overly bothered by this, although Gohan and Chichi clearly missed Gokuu. But it bothered Bulma; in fact, she'd been thinking quite a lot about them lately - Vejiita moreso than Gokuu, although she'd never admit it.
Since Vejiita's flight, she'd had more than enough time to consider what had passed between them. She'd had time to think about exactly the kind of man he was - exactly what kind of things he'd gone through as a child and young adult, and exactly why he behaved the way he did. On the whole, she'd come to realize that there was a lot more to Vejiita than he himself liked to let on.
"I wonder," she thought to herself and sometimes asked aloud, "where did Vejiita go?"
Her simple questions galled Yamucha, although that did not stop her from asking them. It didn't matter to her what he thought about this because she'd come to realize a simple and true fact: Yamucha did not and perhaps could not understand.
In fact, with a weird thrill, Bulma realized that perhaps no one but her DID understand.
Vejiita carried in him a pride and weirdly burned nobility that set him apart from the other warriors. It even set him apart from the other Saiyans she'd seen - which, admittedly, were few, but they seemed to have a distinct similarity of character. Even Gokuu - when he was fighting - had that desire for violence, that mad and crude wildness that seemed to forgo all reason for the sake of bloodshed.
Vejiita, true, was violent; and he was terribly cruel, lusting to give damage both verbally and physically. But something about the WAY he did it...
He was intelligent about it. It was very strange; even the way he insulted verbally when he fought was intelligent - it showed a keenness of observation that Bulma knew from long experience was not to be found in Gokuu, and didn't seem to be present in either Radditz or Nappa.
So - intelligence. Coupled with that odd nobility; Vejiita didn't usually like to be dirty. As long as he'd stayed at the CC, Vejiita had bathed regularly on his own without needing to be told - a trait Bulma had not observed in other members of Vejiita's race. He ate neatly. He refused to simply scarf the way Gokuu and Gohan did. He even took care of his own clothing.
And then - he would train.
Determination - chock another thing onto Vejiita's list. Bulma had never seen anyone so determined; it was as if Vejiita were attempting to take the saying "do your best or die trying" to a new level. Every day he'd done this; get up at dawn every morning and work until he could barely stand up.
Vejiita was a unique, damaged, and noble creature - all three were true at once. And sadly, no one else seemed to see it.
Perhaps this was the reason why when he finally returned from space, she behaved as though he'd never even left; she'd simply sent him into the shower and given him clothing as if he hadn't even been gone a day. Somehow, she understood: he'd never had a home. The only thing he'd had had been with that awful Freeza, and even then - he'd been alone. The last of the royal line of his race; and, just possibly, the last of his race, period.
Freeza had been brilliant to leave no female Saiyans alive.
So - she treated him as though he'd returned to where he belonged, and in unknowing support of her theory, he'd accepted it. He hadn't tried to hurt her or anybody near. It was a mystery to everyone but her - becuase they simply did not understand.
The day came and went; and with it came many unpleasant surprises.
Although being Prince Vejiita was normally not an unpleasant thing, recent events had conspired to make him regret it, and by the end of the month Vejiita began to wonder if it were worth remaining himself at all. As an omen of things to come, Freeza had returned; not dead, as everyone had thought, and very vengeful, as only made sense. Was Kakarotto back to deal with this? Oh, not yet - but he'd apparently sent a replacement.
Sme random purple haired punk came before Kakarotto could, who, as a matter of bitter irony, could also attain Super Saiyan even though Vejiita still could not. How could he do this? Nobody knew; and nobody was telling. Kakarotto then finally deigned to return, equipped (naturally) with new powers, funny clothes, and absolutely no useful information for anybody at all. And lastly, as a final insult, everyone had split up in different directions to train because if they did not, in three years they'd all be dead.
There was longer any question. The gods were out of their drunken-ass minds.
Vejiita reflected on this bitterly as he sat in the Briefs' living room and waited for them to finish their discussion."I'm telling you, I could do this in three days." She held up the appropriate fingers. "Three. Days."
"Bulma dear.... no," Dr. Briefs replied simply, puffing on his cigarette between phrases and looking as happily clueless as the cat which perpetually clung to his shoulder. "It's a little much even for YOU."
Vejiita restrained his chuckle and turned more of his attention toward the conversation. It was really amusing, in a way; you'd have thought the woman's own PARENTS would understand her, but it seemed that this wasn't the case. Vejiita himself had long understood that insulting her abilities and/or intellect was a sure way to get her furious; however, her parents didn't seem to understand.
He took a special pride in that, really; what irony - that no one should understand the loud-mouthed woman but him.
"For me?! What's that supposed to mean?" she screeched.
"Hm? Oh, just what I said, dear."
"What you..."
"Yes, Bulma, darling. Papa says you can't do it in three days, so you should probably just settle back and tell Mr. Vejiita Prince that it can't be done for a week or so. Oh, would you like some deviled eggs, Vejiita?"
"No, he would NOT like some!" Bulma said, and stamped her foot. Vejiita hadn't, but just for that, he took three.
Naturally, this act of rebellion did nothing but pour more fuel onto the fire.
"I can so do it in three days!" Bulma exclaimed, finger pointed at her placid father.
"Can't," Dr. Briefs said, and his wife shook her head.
"Two! I can even do it in TWO!"
"Now - Bulma dear, don't you think you're getting a little...ridiculous?"
Bulma stared at him.
"Just a little over-excited, perhaps?" he suggested.
"I AM NOT EXCITED!!" she screamed, losing it completely, and spinning on her heel, stormed toward the exit. Then suddenly, as if posing for a photo op, she spun back around, framing her fury with quiet intensity as she stood before the open door. "I won't do it in three days - "
"Of course you won't -" Dr. Briefs began, but she wasn't finished.
"I won't even do it in two."
Silence this time; both her parents blinked.
"I, Bulma Brassier Briefs, will do it... in ONE!" she proclaimed, raising both arms toward heaven as she stood akimbo. As if on cue, lightening crackled behind her.
Her parents stared. Vejiita laughed; and Bulma turned on him with all the wrath and speed of an enraged cobra.
"I'm doing this for YOU, you big, stupid lug! So you'd BETTER ENJOY IT!" And with that, she slammed away, fleeing both her parents' disapproval and Vejiita's censure.
Vejiita merely smiled. Gods, it really was pathetic; you know - he could get this woman to do whatever he wanted - and NO one else would even see it coming.
Feeling absurdly pleased - honestly, as though he'd brought down some great beast of prey in battle - Vejiita left. He would have his gravity room by this time tomorrow - and damn it all, it was none too soon.
And with that, he trained.
Bulma began to be concerned after a while. Yes, the androids were coming; and yes, he had to beat Kakarotto. But he seemed to be under a greater stress than he had been when he left; he shouted in his sleep sometimes, for example. She wasn't sure if he knew that he did, but since her room was right above his, so she could hear him. Sometimes.
He shouted all sorts of things; curses, threats. Screams of terror, of fury - of regret. Well - she thought it was regret. Once or twice she was certain she'd heard him crying, but she wasn't sure why.
No one had told her that he'd wept on Namek when he lost his life; that he'd finally felt the regret and loss of a life gone wrong, of chances taken away from him, of a people and culture lost forever. No one had told her this; but after watching him for a few days, she would not have been surprised at all to learn of it.
"That Vejiita's trying to do the impossible..."
"He's a freak with a fighting mania."
"Oh, but he's so CUTE!" Mrs. Briefs' voice, seemingly, would cut through steel.
Bulma sighed, stirring the tea her mother had brought. "I thought you said you liked Gokuu. What, you've switched to Vejiita now?"
"Gokuu's handsome too, but I love the way it feels like Vejiita's under a shadow."
...under a...
"Oh, and I also love his wide forehead! Ooh, I know, I'll ask them out on a double date!"
Bulma shook her head sharply, jolting loose the weird memory that clung to her like dirt. Her mother was insane. But -
Under a shadow; yes. Vejiita DID feel that way. It had the effect of both alluring and alarming; Bulma honestly did not know how to treat it.
...and there was no WAY Gokuu was as handsome as Vejiita. Her mother was definitely insane.
The explosion, when it happened, rocked the entire building, and afterwards Bulma really thought that she should have known it was coming.
"...VEJIITA!" Bulma knew; knew what that sound was, knew he'd been pushing too hard -
No. He couldn't be dead. Would not be.
She rounded the corner simultaneously with Yamucha; both stopped and stared, taking in the carnage.
The gravity room had been completely destroyed. There were pieces strewn everywhere - some fully a hundred meters away - and all of them were smoking. Sparks from severed wires leapt into the air as the last of the machine's power emptied to the sky, and among this unrecognizable wreckage, there was no sign of Vejiita.
Yamucha stared. "We should have expected this," he said, his tone already pronouncing Vejiita dead. "He was doing some dangerous train - hey, Bulma!"
Bulma had raced past him, stumbling over chunks of cement, ignoring the bruises and scrapes she collected along the way. Picking a spot seemingly at random - and using her bare hands - she began to dig.
"Bulma!"
"Vejiita!" Bulma cried, and if she noticed how strained her voice was, it didn't show. "He can't be dead! He can't be - "
And then Vejiita's hand shot abruptly out of the wreckage, followed quickly by the rest of him as he struggled free of the rubble. He was filthy; his clothing was torn, there were visible abrasions everywhere, and as he stood, he wobbled.
Bulma stared; as much as she'd understood him, it hadn't helped her to prevent this. She felt... helpless. "...are you still alive?" came out of her mouth.
"Isn't it obvious?" he snapped, not really looking at her. As much as he'd understood her, he hadn't thought she'd BE here to watch him struggle away from his moment of weakness. This was humiliating.
Relief poured through her system; and with the relief came the ability to be angry. "WHAT were you thinking?!" she suddenly screeched. "You almost destroyed my HOUSE!"
And Vejiita, who was growing progressively more mortified that this had happened, tried to shout back at her - but it didn't happen.
Instead of shouting, he simply collapsed.
Bulma's ire disappeared instantly. "Vejiita!" She rushed to his side and helped him to sit up. As if she'd needed confirmation as to the damage he'd had, he wasn't trying to push her away. Instead, he growled.
"Don't do anything foolish! You're getting in the way of my training."
Oh, great. He was injured AND hallucinating. "How is this training? You can't train like this!" Bulma sat him up as much as she dared, some part of her mind marveling at the raw solidity of him - the same as it was in Gokuu or Yamucha or any of the other warriors, it was true -
...but none of them were under a shadow.
Bulma shuddered and hoped no one noticed.
"These wounds are nothing," Vejiita boasted, feeling slightly as if he were beginning to fall and unaware of the desperation that snuck into his voice. "I'm the best Saiyan in the universe! I've got to be better than Kakarotto soon..."
Bulma made a sound of disbelief; her heart hurt for him. "I don't care if he's a carrot or a vegetable or whatever! YOU just do what I say!"
"Are you trying to order me around?" Vejiita abruptly stood, perhaps intending to loom; instead, he finally overdid it completely, and fell flat on his face. Vejiita was out for the count.
"Vejiita!"
Bulma, her mother, and her father stood and watched Vejiita lying in bed. The Saiyan prince had been unconscious for several hours, and although he was relatively unscathed - considering that he should have been dead - there was no question that he was going to remain out for quite a few more.
"Poor Vejiita," Mrs. Briefs said, an arm around her husband as she watched.
"Really, though, it's a miracle," Bulma's father shared, puffing on his cigar. "After that big explosion, it's impressive that he got away with so few wounds. Those Saiyans are certainly impressive."
Mrs. Briefs shook her head, repeating her mantra: "Poor Vejiita."
"Well, better rebuild the gravity room," Dr. Briefs said quite casually, and headed out the door, his wife in tow.
Bulma watched in silence. Then without a word, she went to get some of her lab studies. Spreading out her notebooks on the desk next to Vejiita's bed, she proceeded to do her work there, not leaving, budging only to use the bathroom or to grab a snack. She checked his monitors every half hour or so, and hoped that at least he was having good dreams.
Never once did she wonder at the "why" of her own behavior.
Vejiita slept for some hours. And during those hours, his nightmares - comprised of Kakarotto, Trunks, and his own inability to reach them - played over and over again in his mind. It hurt; the frustration of his weakness seemed to burn into his soul.
Over and over again he recalled his father's words, clinging to them as if they were his life; fresh breeze in the heat of the desert. His only clear thought was that he was going to surpass Kakarotto. Had to. There was nothing else.
Nightmares came. His father - who in life had praised him, telling him how powerful he was and reciting the possibilities for his future - now accused in his dreams, flinging images of Kakarotto and this "Trunks" at him like artillery from a canon.
Why... WHY...
Kakarotto and Trunks, in his sleeping mind's eye, ahead of him - unreachable, moving too quickly for him, ALWAYS out of reach.
WHY... Why can't I reach them...
Relief from these nightmares finally - and only - came because Vejiita was able to recall his father's words to him. King Vejiita - and the planet Vejiita-sei - had been destroyed when Vejiita himself was five years old. Freeza had chosen to let the boy live; the reason was simple: his power rating, at the age of five, was greater than that of any other Saiyan remotely close to his age. Vejiita was unique - and hence, made a nice collectible for Freeza the Magnificent Bastard.
But Vejiita's father - before he died - had known.
You're the best of the Saiya-jin, and you will become their king.
Father...
Vejiita needed no father. He needed NOTHING - and yet still... the treasured words remained.
As soon as we Saiya-jin are born, our fighting strength is tested. Low
powered Saiya-jin are sent to planets without very good opponents. Prince,
when you were born your fighting strength placed in the super elite.
I know that you will become the best Saiya-jin in the universe. There's even
a chance you could become the legendary Super Saiya-jin...
Yes..... YES
I WILL SURPASS THEM ALL
He woke with a start, and that was when he noticed that Bulma was next to him in the room.
She'd fallen asleep at her desk; papers with indecipherable squiggles lay scattered around and under her arms, on which rested her head, and she slept peacefully with her lips slightly parted.
Of all things in the world, Vejiita had never expected to see this; and perhaps because it was so unexpected and he was still slightly drugged, he stared at her and thougth she was beautiful.
Her shoulders rose and fell slightly with her breathing; her eyelashes rested on her cheeks. Her skin was just... well, it was just about as perfect as one could want - which made the watching easier. And her curves -
Vejiita was a fairly immoral adult; he knew by now what pleasure such a shape could bring. It was unfortunate that such a mouth had to go with the body; her attitude was really untenable. What the hell was she doing in here, anyway? She had no business being here; it didn't matter that it was her house. It wasn't as if he were going to die, or something.
Or maybe she thought he WAS, and was planning to experiment on his body.
Hm. You know, perhaps that wasn't the best thing to be thinking about right now.
Tearing his gaze away from her body and removing some of his more confining bandages, Vejiita snuck out the door and headed straight for the gravity room. He was mildly impressed that it had been rebuit, but not overly surprised; these Briefs were nothing if not overachievers. Turning it up to 400 times the earth's gravity, he went back into his routine as though no time at all had passed. And it was while he was training here - fleeing Bulma's image as much as he was fear of his own weakness - that a small thing occured to change his relationship with Bulma forever.
Yamucha, standing outside the gravity room with Puuar at his side, watched Vejiita train with jealousy. He'd tried three hundred times earth's gravity; he hadn't even been able to stand. And there was Vejiita, working away as though four hundred times was nothing - and while he was injured, to boot.
Oh, this would not do; this would not do at all.
"Come on, Puar," Yamucha said, not even sparing a thought for Bulma in his current decision. "Let's go on a training expedition."
"Okay!" Puar said happily, and the two of them took off for the mountains - without even bothering to tell Bulma goodbye.
Twenty minutes later, Bulma woke up in Vejiita's room. Seven seconds after that, she realized where he was and tore after him.
All right - on some level, it really DID please her that he was well enough to do this; it seemed that he healed naturally even more quickly than Gokuu. Healing properties aside, however, he was being stupid, and male, and that meant he was probably going to do the same mistake all over again.
Knowing that opening the door would change the pressure and make the thing explode, she opted instead to communicate to Vejiita through somewhat less subtle means. And, after all, what's the use of having a ten-foot hologram projection of your head if you weren't going to use it?
"Hey!" she shouted, said hologram taking up fully half the wall on that side and making Vejiita actually jump. "Vejiita! What the HELL do you think you're doing! Why are you training, hurt as you are? If you do that you'll never heal up properly!"
Vejiita ignored her; silently, he was weighing whether the gravity machine was actually worth having to put up with her mouth even when he was training. Well, it wasn't a big deal; he would just find the holographic projectors and rip them out later. "Noisy wench; what a low-class woman," he offered by way of third person comment, and continued his pushups.
But you know, Fate has a funny sense of timing; naturally, as she was staring at him in sleep-disarrayed glory, he collapsed. It had not been intended; he merely slipped and hit the floor, which - at four hundred times gravity - was no small thing. Inhaling sharply through his teeth, Vejiita clutched his side and grimaced.
"See?" Bulma stated in a weird mix of triumph and concern. "Look at what you did! Don't you ever learn from your mistakes?" Vejiita, injured, didn't have the breath to answer her, so she kept going. "You see? You can't do anything. I thought so. I'm ALWAYS right."
Oh, that was just absurd... "Do you WANT to die in three years?" Vejiita abruptly threatened, glaring balefully at her over his wrapped shoulder.
Bulma looked satisfactorily horrified. "What? Of course not! I want to live! I'm still a young and beautiful girl."
Yes, she was - which thought, for some reason, galled him. "Then..." Vejiita rose to his knees. "SHUT..." he staggered to his feet. "UP!!"
They glared at one another for a moment, Vejiita panting and clutching his arm, Bulma furious and trying not to blush.
"...Well!" she finally announced, and switched off the hologram.
"About time," Vejiita muttered to himself, and resumed his training.
It was the first time they'd addressed one another directly without insults, but neither of them knew the significance.
Stupid woman. Stupid human. She didn't know what she was talking about. He'd beat Kakarotto yet; that would show her. That would show everybody.
...he would show them all.