True Pain
Disclaimer: I'm so exhausted… Too tired to even think of a creative disclaimer, so I'll go with… Bite me. ^_^ How's that?
By: Selenity Jade (Jadesama@aol.com)
Thanks to: Mia Skywalker and Lynz for beta-ing.
Chapter Three: Comfort
Buruma was shocked.
Well, floored might have been a more appropriate term to use. She had *not* seen that coming at all, and she was completely stunned when his lips pressed against hers. It was a chaste kiss, and not really gentle, but eternity lasted in that one moment.
A myriad of feelings welled up within her. Confusion surged up immediately after the surprise wore off, and then she felt – astonishingly – pure bliss. That amazed her as well, that she could feel such simple pleasure in that instant he pressed his mouth to hers. She had never thought she was attracted to the brusque Saiyajin no Ouji. She cared about him, worried about him, and actually liked the arrogant bastard, but she had never thought he had an appeal to him. And suddenly, she found she wanted this. Where it had come from, or why she suddenly found herself craving the callous warrior didn't matter any more, what mattered was that she desired him.
The moment she realized that, the kiss ended, and she was pushed away roughly by the snarling Saiyajin. She blinked once, a bit dazed. She shook her head quickly and looked up to find Vejiita pulling himself out of bed, his face a mask of anger and resentment. She knew he would have gone already if his injuries would have allowed it, but as he was struggling to stay conscious as it was, and unable to escape that quickly. She sighed and leaned over to him, placing a gentle hand on his bare chest. It started the angry Saiyajin enough that he gaped at her, and she pushed him back in response.
Surprisingly – probably because of his weakened state - he didn't protest, and allowed himself to fall back. He did, however, snarl at her and slap her hand away gruffly, as if her touch were painful. She didn't even bother to get offended, but instead rose from the bed, smiling down at the injured fighter.
"Rest, Vejiita. You are far too wounded to train now. I'll be the one to go," she told him gently, amazingly sympathetic to him after his rejection. She was astounded at her own lack of impatience and anger with him, but for some reason, she couldn't find it in her heart to be annoyed with him. He was, after all, hardly given to such displays of affection, and it seemed to have shocked him as much as it had her.
He grunted in acknowledgement, closing his eyes, as if it were beneath his notice to look at her any longer. She sighed and padded quietly out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.
As soon as he heard the soft click of the door, he scowled darkly and groaned faintly to himself. He could *not* believe he had kissed her. What the hell had possessed him to do such a foolish thing? He had known he desired the frail female, but to take it to such lengths had been completely reckless, even for him.
Emotions were weaknesses, and could only lead to pain. 'I *must* control those infuriating hormones better! She is nothing more than an annoying ningen female. She is *not* desirable!' He nearly laughed aloud as he told himself that, knowing it for a blatant lie. She was more than desirable; she was damn alluring.
He sighed silently as he felt the pull to sleep. He had really done a number on himself this time. Every bone in his body must have been cracked, not to mention every muscle pulled, his entire body bruised, and he *knew* he had internal bleeding.
He knew he should be more careful… but the power boosts the injuries gave him often led him to be very thoughtless when it came to training. He would train until he got stronger than Kakarotto – and achieved his destiny of becoming a Supersaiyajin – or he would die trying. He would not be second for the rest of his life, meekly accepting the cruel turn of events life had handed him. He would push his body past its limits over and over again, until he achieved the power he knew was there!
What did it matter if he killed himself anyway? Who the hell would care if he died now? Perhaps some of the Zed warriors when the androids arrived, but only if they lost. He didn't care about the killer machines, nor saving the pathetic planet he had found himself stranded on. What the hell did it matter if those tin cans killed off all the humans? He didn't concern himself with the safety of pathetic Earthlings who were too weak to defend themselves. If they couldn't protect themselves, they deserved to die. The strong survive, that was the order of the universe, and he cared not a whit for any of them. He was only here for two purposes, perhaps three – to defeat his rival, to achieve what had been denied him, and maybe, to experience the familiar yearning for battle.
If he killed himself training, no one but the foolish human warriors would care, and only when they were defeated by the androids. Not one single being would mourn his passing, except perhaps the blue-haired female or that moronic Kakarotto, and he had no idea why the Onna would even bother concerning herself with his welfare. He didn't care, why should she? As for Kakarotto, the fool would mourn anyone's death, and Vejiita knew it. It didn't matter to him, though. Let the fool do as he wished, he was a softhearted idiot.
Vejiita repressed the urge to yawn, and struggled to stay conscious. He didn't really want to have another dream. Not another dream of Kakarotto and that blasted kid from the future, both of whom had already accomplished what should have been his birthright! Nor did he want the other dreams. The ones where he was still a slave under Furiza. Where he was still too weak to protect himself from the daily punishments of the pale fiend. Those dreams were hunted by the cruel laughter of the freakish villain, and made him feel terror even knowing the creature was dead.
He remembered the time the blue-haired female had asked him if he hated Kakarotto for killing the beast instead of doing it himself. He had gaped at her in complete shock, her question popping out unexpectedly, and entirely at random. He had frowned thoughtfully, and had shaken his head before answering her. He had been a bit surprised that she even considered that, but he supposed it wasn't so farfetched for her to assume. He knew she had often wondered about the reason he could hate the third-class moron so much.
He had told her that he didn't hate the fool because of his thwarted revenge, although he was a little disgruntled about it. He would have preferred to destroy the tyrant himself, and he had told her that as well. He was somewhat pleased, actually, that Furiza had been taken down by a Saiyajin, and that was all that mattered in the end. And even when the kid from the future had killed Furiza on Chikyuu-sei, he had not been angry. He was a bit put out, but he didn't hate the kid and the younger Saiyajin. He had pleaded for Kakarotto to finish the cruel monster, and truly, he had wanted it. He knew that Furiza being dead was all that had mattered, and better yet, it had been by the hand of a Saiyajin, a *monkey*. What he *hated* was that he had been too damn weak to accomplish it himself!
He winced as his muscles tensed suddenly in response to his growing anger and self-loathing, and forced himself to relax. He was beginning to feel himself fall into the familiar darkness of unconsciousness when he heard a faint noise from the other room, easily discerned with his heightened senses. He frowned and glared at the door. 'What the hell is that fool Onna doing now?'
~~~
Buruma sighed as she turned away from the closed door, nearly shrieking in surprise when she found Yamucha behind her, only a few inches away, and she scowled at him. He opened his mouth, but was quickly cut off by her hand covering his mouth. She shook her head, motioning him to be quiet, and led him down the hall into the living room.
"What is it, Yamucha?" she asked tiredly, frowning up at him.
He looked at her with that familiar longing, and she repressed the urge to hug him. After everything, he still loved her. Still loved her so much, and wanted her back, yet here she was flustered about having just kissed the arrogant bastard she had invited into her home, while her ex-boyfriend had been standing outside the door! And she didn't even felt guilty!
"I'm leaving."
She gaped. "What?"
"You heard me, Buruma," he told her quietly. "I… I cannot train here any longer."
"But…why?" she demanded. A part of her was upset at the news. Somewhat selfishly, she still thought of Yamucha as hers. Maybe not her boyfriend now, but he had been still hers, and it hadn't crossed her mind that he might stay away. That he would actually leave her. It was stupid, this fear of his absence; after all, didn't she break his heart? But she had no one else, and she had always felt pleased that she had his devotion. She didn't want him to leave, because then she would truly be alone…
"I need to, Buruma," he murmured sadly. He looked into her eyes, showing her exactly how hard it was for him to do this, but knowing she would also see how much he had to as well. "I cannot be here. It's too painful. I'm sorry… We'll still be friends, but for now, I can't be that close. I'm sorry." Although Yamucha didn't say it, a part of the reason he had decided to stay away was because of Vejiita. He had seen how upset and worried Buruma had been over the injured Saiyajin, and it had nearly driven him insane with jealousy, anger, and hurt. He couldn't stay with her and watch as she fell for the surly prince. He might be slightly masochistic staying around her at all, but he could not watch her care for the man who had been responsible for his death.
And he didn't want to watch the bastard break her heart.
"Yamucha-"
"No, Buruma. I have to," he told her firmly. He gave her a big smile and hugged her suddenly, burying his head in her silky hair. "I love you, Buruma. I always will… but for now, I can't be here. Please understand," he murmured.
She sniffled softly, nodding as she returned the gentle embrace. "Okay, Yamucha…"
"I have my stuff already packed. I did that while you were fixing up Vejiita," he explained, pulling away from her regretfully, but knowing that if he held her any longer, he would cry, himself. And he didn't want to hurt her any more with his pain. He knew it was hard enough on her, staying with this permanent break-up as it was, he didn't want to cause her any more hardships. After all, he was sure Vejiita would give her enough, if his suspicions proved correct. "I'll be training alone or with Kuririn, Buruma. If you ever need me, you know how to reach me."
"Alright, if this is what you want…"
"It is," he told her, nodding. He then turned from her and walked towards the front door. He gave her a single longing look over his shoulder before walking out.
After she heard his air-car take off, she released the sobs she had been holding back, and then fell to her knees on the carpet. Leaning her forehead against the floor, she shuddered as she struggled to keep her weeping as silent as possible, and then allowed herself cry.
~~~
Vejiita poked his head into the living room, frowning deeply as he saw the crumpled form on the floor. Was she hurt? Had the human warrior he had sensed leaving injured her? He had heard the muffled thud from his room, and despite his better judgment, had gotten worried. So, instead of lying there pondering what was going on, curiosity got the better of him and he painfully lumbered out of the room to investigate, nearly passing out three times during the short walk.
He stiffly walked towards the prone woman, wincing painfully with each step. Next time, he'd make sure there were senzu beans around. He hated those damn things, but it was better than staggering around like a feeble old man! When he had reached her – disgusted with her total obliviousness concerning her surroundings – he knelt down slowly, and paused before speaking.
"Onna?"
"My name," she sobbed out, "is Buruma!" Her shoulders shook slightly as she spoke, and Vejiita was furious to find he was concerned.
"Are you injured?" he asked gruffly. He was a bit confused as to why she was crying; she didn't seem to be injured enough to weep as she was.
He could see her shake her head slightly, another muffled sob reaching his ears. "No…"
He opened his mouth to bark at her, but for some reason he couldn't even think of what to yell at her about. She wasn't wailing and carrying on like a brat, and she had been doing this quietly; it was his own curiosity and odd concern for her that had brought him out here. She hadn't barged into his room bitching about whatever was wrong. All he had to do was stumble back to his room, and he wouldn't even have to look at her any longer. She wasn't doing anything he could snap at her for.
"Onna, get up," he ordered brusquely, but his gentle tone ruined the effect he had hoped for.
"Go back to bed, Vejiita," she whispered. "You are far too injured to be out walking around."
"Do not order me around," he snapped back, automatically moving to rise. He gasped as agony shot through his entire body, and he slumped to the floor beside her.
She inhaled sharply in surprise – and a bit of pain as his shoulder hit her – and quickly leaned over him. Her face clearly showed her concern, as well as the tear-stained cheeks from her bout of sobbing she had indulged in. "Vejiita?"
He tried to push her away, paling as the movement wretched a torn muscle, and bit the inside of his lip to stifle his groan. He cursed himself for overdoing it once again as he trembled on the floor. He attempted to control his reaction furiously, disgusted with his display of weakness. He could hear the little voice in his mind telling him to shove the pain aside, to never let it show, to get up. He must protect himself! It would be easy for someone to just come along and destroy him as he lay on the ground, trembling with pain. Completely helpless!
Too long he had served under Furiza and mastered the art of hiding his weaknesses from everyone, so that even now, when he was in no danger at all, his mind continued to berate him mercilessly. Two long decades of conditioning does not just disappear because he's on a peaceful planet. It does not just vanish, even in regards to a woman who would no more harm him than hurt one of her baka friends. Subconsciously he knew that, even though his mind often plagued him with doubts. He *trusted* her more than he had trusted anyone before, and the part of him that kept him going even in the most difficult and trying times with Furiza rebuked him for it.
He found himself flinching as the female brushed a hand over his brow, and he snarled, not at her, but at himself. He was afraid of her! His father would blast him for that if he were alive. Furiza would have had more ammunition to fling at the Saiyajin no Ouji. His people would have been ashamed. Kami, *he* was ashamed! Afraid of a weakling with no ki! Afraid of her, because her touch brought such pleasure and confusion, and even… dread. Dread at knowing this little slip of a weakling could hurt him more than Furiza ever had.
Amazingly, nothing showed on her face when he flinched from her, except for the concern that was still present. She cared for him. The stupid female actually cared about him! What the hell was wrong with her? Couldn't she just let him be? All he wanted was to be alone! Didn't it?
A part of him laughed.
He was such a liar. Even in his own mind. He sighed and closed his eyes, unwilling to look at her any longer. He was afraid he might drown in those alluring blue eyes as they rested on him, the worry and care in those damn bewitching eyes would be his undoing. And he would *not* give in to it!
"Come on, Vejiita. We need to get you into bed. Please?"
He sighed inaudibly and nodded, in too much pain and just too tired to attempt an argument with her. She helped him to his feet slowly, mindful of his injuries. He wanted to shake her off, but knew he'd end up flat on his face if he did so. Her gentle fingers on his bare chest, the arm around his waist, the soft supple flesh of her body against his, even clothed, were driving him positively mad.
They lumbered towards his room, Vejiita grunting occasionally when his injured body was jarred a bit hard, and after what felt like hours, they entered his bedroom. She helped him to his bed and gently laid him down, tucking the sheets around his body so that he wouldn't have to move far. He watched her curiously, gazing at her as her tears started up again, seemingly unnoticed by the female shedding them.
"Onna."
She blinked and glanced at him, an eyebrow raised slightly in question, still seemingly oblivious to the fact that her eyes were leaking tears once again.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice breaking slightly as a wave of pain shot through him, and he clenched his jaw.
Her mouth fell open in shock at the unusual – for him – question. "Uh…"
He sighed weakly, and painfully scooted over on the bed, making Buruma's eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion. He scowled thunderously at her and motioned her to sit beside him. When she just gaped at him, he started to growl softly. "Onna, just do it!" he snapped irritably.
She nodded carefully, complying with his demand, lying on her side on the bed. Her watery eyes watched him warily as if he were going to bite her; she then sighed and snuggled into the pillow. They stared at each other mutely for a long moment, neither breaking the amazingly comfortable silence. When Vejiita finally spoke, his voice was thick with exhaustion and pain.
"Are you going to tell me what you were sniveling about?"
Shaking her head, she let her eyes fall closed before replying further. "It doesn't matter, Vejiita."
"I never said it mattered, idiot," he snapped back tiredly. He winced again as he moved himself slightly into a more comfortable position. He was lying on his back, and he turned his head to regard her searchingly, his face set in that emotionless mask he had perfected throughout the years.
"Yamucha left," she said brokenly.
He blinked. "So…?"
"I know… but I just feel… alone now," she confessed in a hoarse whisper.
He made an irritated grunt and rolled his eyes. "Fool," he snapped, closing his eyes. "You need to get over it and move on. You ended your relationship, and he knows he needs to move on as well. Get over it, Onna. You cannot just expect him to stick around until you decide you are fine without him."
"Yes, I know," she sobbed out quietly, and buried her head in the pillow, trying futilely to hide her tears from the perceptive Saiyajin beside her.
He hissed softly and poked her softly, too exhausted and sore to move much more than that. "Onna, stop soaking my pillow!"
"Sorry," she mumbled, but didn't remove her face from the pillow, nor did her tears slow.
Vejiita sighed and poked her again. "Onna, stop thinking about it. Sleep."
She sniffled. "I can't… I tend to get insomnia when I'm upset," she murmured, her voice muffled by the pillow.
He rolled his eyes. "Foolish Onna, you will make yourself sick. Sleep or I will force you to."
Starting in surprise, she uncovered her face and gave him a confused look. "What?"
"You heard me. Sleep. I need to sleep, and I cannot if I have to listen to your blubbering."
She sniffled again, and re-buried her head. "Sorry," she muttered.
Poking her again, he hissed, "Stop that. I will render you unconscious if I have to. Stop bawling."
Sniffling, she tried to slow her weeping, only partly successful, but nodded slightly. "Fine."
He rolled his eyes before closing them, attempting to sleep, but the slight woman beside him distracted his thoughts from their goal. Her gentle scent, her almost unnoticeable trembling as she tried to control her tears, and her soft sniffles were driving him crazy. He snapped his eyes open and glared at the top of her head. "Onna."
She looked up.
"Come here."
She frowned minutely, her brow furrowing a bit in confusion. "I am here, Vejiita."
He growled softly and hissed, "Closer, idiot!"
Her frown deepened, but she did as he asked and wiggled closer – almost snuggling into his side – mindful of his injuries. He scowled and leaned his head against hers, and closed his eyes again. "Sleep now," he ordered softly.
He felt her slight nod and she took a calming breath before she finally did huddle into him and let her eyes slid closed. Within moments, Vejiita heard her breathing slow and deepen, and knew she had fallen asleep.
He sighed and allowed himself to do the same.
~~~
AN: *giggles happily* And you all thought there was going to be a lemon! *Points and laughs* Nope! ^_^
Lovies!
Disclaimer: I'm so exhausted… Too tired to even think of a creative disclaimer, so I'll go with… Bite me. ^_^ How's that?
By: Selenity Jade (Jadesama@aol.com)
Thanks to: Mia Skywalker and Lynz for beta-ing.
Chapter Three: Comfort
Buruma was shocked.
Well, floored might have been a more appropriate term to use. She had *not* seen that coming at all, and she was completely stunned when his lips pressed against hers. It was a chaste kiss, and not really gentle, but eternity lasted in that one moment.
A myriad of feelings welled up within her. Confusion surged up immediately after the surprise wore off, and then she felt – astonishingly – pure bliss. That amazed her as well, that she could feel such simple pleasure in that instant he pressed his mouth to hers. She had never thought she was attracted to the brusque Saiyajin no Ouji. She cared about him, worried about him, and actually liked the arrogant bastard, but she had never thought he had an appeal to him. And suddenly, she found she wanted this. Where it had come from, or why she suddenly found herself craving the callous warrior didn't matter any more, what mattered was that she desired him.
The moment she realized that, the kiss ended, and she was pushed away roughly by the snarling Saiyajin. She blinked once, a bit dazed. She shook her head quickly and looked up to find Vejiita pulling himself out of bed, his face a mask of anger and resentment. She knew he would have gone already if his injuries would have allowed it, but as he was struggling to stay conscious as it was, and unable to escape that quickly. She sighed and leaned over to him, placing a gentle hand on his bare chest. It started the angry Saiyajin enough that he gaped at her, and she pushed him back in response.
Surprisingly – probably because of his weakened state - he didn't protest, and allowed himself to fall back. He did, however, snarl at her and slap her hand away gruffly, as if her touch were painful. She didn't even bother to get offended, but instead rose from the bed, smiling down at the injured fighter.
"Rest, Vejiita. You are far too wounded to train now. I'll be the one to go," she told him gently, amazingly sympathetic to him after his rejection. She was astounded at her own lack of impatience and anger with him, but for some reason, she couldn't find it in her heart to be annoyed with him. He was, after all, hardly given to such displays of affection, and it seemed to have shocked him as much as it had her.
He grunted in acknowledgement, closing his eyes, as if it were beneath his notice to look at her any longer. She sighed and padded quietly out of the room, closing the door gently behind her.
As soon as he heard the soft click of the door, he scowled darkly and groaned faintly to himself. He could *not* believe he had kissed her. What the hell had possessed him to do such a foolish thing? He had known he desired the frail female, but to take it to such lengths had been completely reckless, even for him.
Emotions were weaknesses, and could only lead to pain. 'I *must* control those infuriating hormones better! She is nothing more than an annoying ningen female. She is *not* desirable!' He nearly laughed aloud as he told himself that, knowing it for a blatant lie. She was more than desirable; she was damn alluring.
He sighed silently as he felt the pull to sleep. He had really done a number on himself this time. Every bone in his body must have been cracked, not to mention every muscle pulled, his entire body bruised, and he *knew* he had internal bleeding.
He knew he should be more careful… but the power boosts the injuries gave him often led him to be very thoughtless when it came to training. He would train until he got stronger than Kakarotto – and achieved his destiny of becoming a Supersaiyajin – or he would die trying. He would not be second for the rest of his life, meekly accepting the cruel turn of events life had handed him. He would push his body past its limits over and over again, until he achieved the power he knew was there!
What did it matter if he killed himself anyway? Who the hell would care if he died now? Perhaps some of the Zed warriors when the androids arrived, but only if they lost. He didn't care about the killer machines, nor saving the pathetic planet he had found himself stranded on. What the hell did it matter if those tin cans killed off all the humans? He didn't concern himself with the safety of pathetic Earthlings who were too weak to defend themselves. If they couldn't protect themselves, they deserved to die. The strong survive, that was the order of the universe, and he cared not a whit for any of them. He was only here for two purposes, perhaps three – to defeat his rival, to achieve what had been denied him, and maybe, to experience the familiar yearning for battle.
If he killed himself training, no one but the foolish human warriors would care, and only when they were defeated by the androids. Not one single being would mourn his passing, except perhaps the blue-haired female or that moronic Kakarotto, and he had no idea why the Onna would even bother concerning herself with his welfare. He didn't care, why should she? As for Kakarotto, the fool would mourn anyone's death, and Vejiita knew it. It didn't matter to him, though. Let the fool do as he wished, he was a softhearted idiot.
Vejiita repressed the urge to yawn, and struggled to stay conscious. He didn't really want to have another dream. Not another dream of Kakarotto and that blasted kid from the future, both of whom had already accomplished what should have been his birthright! Nor did he want the other dreams. The ones where he was still a slave under Furiza. Where he was still too weak to protect himself from the daily punishments of the pale fiend. Those dreams were hunted by the cruel laughter of the freakish villain, and made him feel terror even knowing the creature was dead.
He remembered the time the blue-haired female had asked him if he hated Kakarotto for killing the beast instead of doing it himself. He had gaped at her in complete shock, her question popping out unexpectedly, and entirely at random. He had frowned thoughtfully, and had shaken his head before answering her. He had been a bit surprised that she even considered that, but he supposed it wasn't so farfetched for her to assume. He knew she had often wondered about the reason he could hate the third-class moron so much.
He had told her that he didn't hate the fool because of his thwarted revenge, although he was a little disgruntled about it. He would have preferred to destroy the tyrant himself, and he had told her that as well. He was somewhat pleased, actually, that Furiza had been taken down by a Saiyajin, and that was all that mattered in the end. And even when the kid from the future had killed Furiza on Chikyuu-sei, he had not been angry. He was a bit put out, but he didn't hate the kid and the younger Saiyajin. He had pleaded for Kakarotto to finish the cruel monster, and truly, he had wanted it. He knew that Furiza being dead was all that had mattered, and better yet, it had been by the hand of a Saiyajin, a *monkey*. What he *hated* was that he had been too damn weak to accomplish it himself!
He winced as his muscles tensed suddenly in response to his growing anger and self-loathing, and forced himself to relax. He was beginning to feel himself fall into the familiar darkness of unconsciousness when he heard a faint noise from the other room, easily discerned with his heightened senses. He frowned and glared at the door. 'What the hell is that fool Onna doing now?'
~~~
Buruma sighed as she turned away from the closed door, nearly shrieking in surprise when she found Yamucha behind her, only a few inches away, and she scowled at him. He opened his mouth, but was quickly cut off by her hand covering his mouth. She shook her head, motioning him to be quiet, and led him down the hall into the living room.
"What is it, Yamucha?" she asked tiredly, frowning up at him.
He looked at her with that familiar longing, and she repressed the urge to hug him. After everything, he still loved her. Still loved her so much, and wanted her back, yet here she was flustered about having just kissed the arrogant bastard she had invited into her home, while her ex-boyfriend had been standing outside the door! And she didn't even felt guilty!
"I'm leaving."
She gaped. "What?"
"You heard me, Buruma," he told her quietly. "I… I cannot train here any longer."
"But…why?" she demanded. A part of her was upset at the news. Somewhat selfishly, she still thought of Yamucha as hers. Maybe not her boyfriend now, but he had been still hers, and it hadn't crossed her mind that he might stay away. That he would actually leave her. It was stupid, this fear of his absence; after all, didn't she break his heart? But she had no one else, and she had always felt pleased that she had his devotion. She didn't want him to leave, because then she would truly be alone…
"I need to, Buruma," he murmured sadly. He looked into her eyes, showing her exactly how hard it was for him to do this, but knowing she would also see how much he had to as well. "I cannot be here. It's too painful. I'm sorry… We'll still be friends, but for now, I can't be that close. I'm sorry." Although Yamucha didn't say it, a part of the reason he had decided to stay away was because of Vejiita. He had seen how upset and worried Buruma had been over the injured Saiyajin, and it had nearly driven him insane with jealousy, anger, and hurt. He couldn't stay with her and watch as she fell for the surly prince. He might be slightly masochistic staying around her at all, but he could not watch her care for the man who had been responsible for his death.
And he didn't want to watch the bastard break her heart.
"Yamucha-"
"No, Buruma. I have to," he told her firmly. He gave her a big smile and hugged her suddenly, burying his head in her silky hair. "I love you, Buruma. I always will… but for now, I can't be here. Please understand," he murmured.
She sniffled softly, nodding as she returned the gentle embrace. "Okay, Yamucha…"
"I have my stuff already packed. I did that while you were fixing up Vejiita," he explained, pulling away from her regretfully, but knowing that if he held her any longer, he would cry, himself. And he didn't want to hurt her any more with his pain. He knew it was hard enough on her, staying with this permanent break-up as it was, he didn't want to cause her any more hardships. After all, he was sure Vejiita would give her enough, if his suspicions proved correct. "I'll be training alone or with Kuririn, Buruma. If you ever need me, you know how to reach me."
"Alright, if this is what you want…"
"It is," he told her, nodding. He then turned from her and walked towards the front door. He gave her a single longing look over his shoulder before walking out.
After she heard his air-car take off, she released the sobs she had been holding back, and then fell to her knees on the carpet. Leaning her forehead against the floor, she shuddered as she struggled to keep her weeping as silent as possible, and then allowed herself cry.
~~~
Vejiita poked his head into the living room, frowning deeply as he saw the crumpled form on the floor. Was she hurt? Had the human warrior he had sensed leaving injured her? He had heard the muffled thud from his room, and despite his better judgment, had gotten worried. So, instead of lying there pondering what was going on, curiosity got the better of him and he painfully lumbered out of the room to investigate, nearly passing out three times during the short walk.
He stiffly walked towards the prone woman, wincing painfully with each step. Next time, he'd make sure there were senzu beans around. He hated those damn things, but it was better than staggering around like a feeble old man! When he had reached her – disgusted with her total obliviousness concerning her surroundings – he knelt down slowly, and paused before speaking.
"Onna?"
"My name," she sobbed out, "is Buruma!" Her shoulders shook slightly as she spoke, and Vejiita was furious to find he was concerned.
"Are you injured?" he asked gruffly. He was a bit confused as to why she was crying; she didn't seem to be injured enough to weep as she was.
He could see her shake her head slightly, another muffled sob reaching his ears. "No…"
He opened his mouth to bark at her, but for some reason he couldn't even think of what to yell at her about. She wasn't wailing and carrying on like a brat, and she had been doing this quietly; it was his own curiosity and odd concern for her that had brought him out here. She hadn't barged into his room bitching about whatever was wrong. All he had to do was stumble back to his room, and he wouldn't even have to look at her any longer. She wasn't doing anything he could snap at her for.
"Onna, get up," he ordered brusquely, but his gentle tone ruined the effect he had hoped for.
"Go back to bed, Vejiita," she whispered. "You are far too injured to be out walking around."
"Do not order me around," he snapped back, automatically moving to rise. He gasped as agony shot through his entire body, and he slumped to the floor beside her.
She inhaled sharply in surprise – and a bit of pain as his shoulder hit her – and quickly leaned over him. Her face clearly showed her concern, as well as the tear-stained cheeks from her bout of sobbing she had indulged in. "Vejiita?"
He tried to push her away, paling as the movement wretched a torn muscle, and bit the inside of his lip to stifle his groan. He cursed himself for overdoing it once again as he trembled on the floor. He attempted to control his reaction furiously, disgusted with his display of weakness. He could hear the little voice in his mind telling him to shove the pain aside, to never let it show, to get up. He must protect himself! It would be easy for someone to just come along and destroy him as he lay on the ground, trembling with pain. Completely helpless!
Too long he had served under Furiza and mastered the art of hiding his weaknesses from everyone, so that even now, when he was in no danger at all, his mind continued to berate him mercilessly. Two long decades of conditioning does not just disappear because he's on a peaceful planet. It does not just vanish, even in regards to a woman who would no more harm him than hurt one of her baka friends. Subconsciously he knew that, even though his mind often plagued him with doubts. He *trusted* her more than he had trusted anyone before, and the part of him that kept him going even in the most difficult and trying times with Furiza rebuked him for it.
He found himself flinching as the female brushed a hand over his brow, and he snarled, not at her, but at himself. He was afraid of her! His father would blast him for that if he were alive. Furiza would have had more ammunition to fling at the Saiyajin no Ouji. His people would have been ashamed. Kami, *he* was ashamed! Afraid of a weakling with no ki! Afraid of her, because her touch brought such pleasure and confusion, and even… dread. Dread at knowing this little slip of a weakling could hurt him more than Furiza ever had.
Amazingly, nothing showed on her face when he flinched from her, except for the concern that was still present. She cared for him. The stupid female actually cared about him! What the hell was wrong with her? Couldn't she just let him be? All he wanted was to be alone! Didn't it?
A part of him laughed.
He was such a liar. Even in his own mind. He sighed and closed his eyes, unwilling to look at her any longer. He was afraid he might drown in those alluring blue eyes as they rested on him, the worry and care in those damn bewitching eyes would be his undoing. And he would *not* give in to it!
"Come on, Vejiita. We need to get you into bed. Please?"
He sighed inaudibly and nodded, in too much pain and just too tired to attempt an argument with her. She helped him to his feet slowly, mindful of his injuries. He wanted to shake her off, but knew he'd end up flat on his face if he did so. Her gentle fingers on his bare chest, the arm around his waist, the soft supple flesh of her body against his, even clothed, were driving him positively mad.
They lumbered towards his room, Vejiita grunting occasionally when his injured body was jarred a bit hard, and after what felt like hours, they entered his bedroom. She helped him to his bed and gently laid him down, tucking the sheets around his body so that he wouldn't have to move far. He watched her curiously, gazing at her as her tears started up again, seemingly unnoticed by the female shedding them.
"Onna."
She blinked and glanced at him, an eyebrow raised slightly in question, still seemingly oblivious to the fact that her eyes were leaking tears once again.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice breaking slightly as a wave of pain shot through him, and he clenched his jaw.
Her mouth fell open in shock at the unusual – for him – question. "Uh…"
He sighed weakly, and painfully scooted over on the bed, making Buruma's eyebrows furrow slightly in confusion. He scowled thunderously at her and motioned her to sit beside him. When she just gaped at him, he started to growl softly. "Onna, just do it!" he snapped irritably.
She nodded carefully, complying with his demand, lying on her side on the bed. Her watery eyes watched him warily as if he were going to bite her; she then sighed and snuggled into the pillow. They stared at each other mutely for a long moment, neither breaking the amazingly comfortable silence. When Vejiita finally spoke, his voice was thick with exhaustion and pain.
"Are you going to tell me what you were sniveling about?"
Shaking her head, she let her eyes fall closed before replying further. "It doesn't matter, Vejiita."
"I never said it mattered, idiot," he snapped back tiredly. He winced again as he moved himself slightly into a more comfortable position. He was lying on his back, and he turned his head to regard her searchingly, his face set in that emotionless mask he had perfected throughout the years.
"Yamucha left," she said brokenly.
He blinked. "So…?"
"I know… but I just feel… alone now," she confessed in a hoarse whisper.
He made an irritated grunt and rolled his eyes. "Fool," he snapped, closing his eyes. "You need to get over it and move on. You ended your relationship, and he knows he needs to move on as well. Get over it, Onna. You cannot just expect him to stick around until you decide you are fine without him."
"Yes, I know," she sobbed out quietly, and buried her head in the pillow, trying futilely to hide her tears from the perceptive Saiyajin beside her.
He hissed softly and poked her softly, too exhausted and sore to move much more than that. "Onna, stop soaking my pillow!"
"Sorry," she mumbled, but didn't remove her face from the pillow, nor did her tears slow.
Vejiita sighed and poked her again. "Onna, stop thinking about it. Sleep."
She sniffled. "I can't… I tend to get insomnia when I'm upset," she murmured, her voice muffled by the pillow.
He rolled his eyes. "Foolish Onna, you will make yourself sick. Sleep or I will force you to."
Starting in surprise, she uncovered her face and gave him a confused look. "What?"
"You heard me. Sleep. I need to sleep, and I cannot if I have to listen to your blubbering."
She sniffled again, and re-buried her head. "Sorry," she muttered.
Poking her again, he hissed, "Stop that. I will render you unconscious if I have to. Stop bawling."
Sniffling, she tried to slow her weeping, only partly successful, but nodded slightly. "Fine."
He rolled his eyes before closing them, attempting to sleep, but the slight woman beside him distracted his thoughts from their goal. Her gentle scent, her almost unnoticeable trembling as she tried to control her tears, and her soft sniffles were driving him crazy. He snapped his eyes open and glared at the top of her head. "Onna."
She looked up.
"Come here."
She frowned minutely, her brow furrowing a bit in confusion. "I am here, Vejiita."
He growled softly and hissed, "Closer, idiot!"
Her frown deepened, but she did as he asked and wiggled closer – almost snuggling into his side – mindful of his injuries. He scowled and leaned his head against hers, and closed his eyes again. "Sleep now," he ordered softly.
He felt her slight nod and she took a calming breath before she finally did huddle into him and let her eyes slid closed. Within moments, Vejiita heard her breathing slow and deepen, and knew she had fallen asleep.
He sighed and allowed himself to do the same.
~~~
AN: *giggles happily* And you all thought there was going to be a lemon! *Points and laughs* Nope! ^_^
Lovies!
