Last time:
"Kuso," she swore, shoving the card into her pocket. "I do not need to see a damn shrink." Her fellow actors and actresses would stronger disagree. Bulma Briefs, once Japan's fresh new sweetheart, was now the farthest thing from it. It was almost as if some unknown tragedy had befallen her, altering her persona completely.
Little did they know, that their guesses were painfully true.
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"Vegeta!" an angry masculine voice bellowed, followed by furious banging. He took a deep breath, heaved the barbell back onto its holder, and sat up.
"What!" he called back, annoyed. He couldn't stand it when people interrupted his exercising.
"Get your ass up here now!"
"Bite me!"
"Kami, damn it, Vegeta! If you don't—" Vegeta drudged up the basement stairs and flung open the door, glaring heatedly at his uncle Okura. They did NOT get along. "Your aunt asked you to pick Midori up at Day Care this afternoon."
"And?"
"And! Where the hell were you!"
"Is she home now?"
"Yes," he snapped, clenching his fists at his sides.
"Is she alive?"
"Yes!"
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem, Vegeta, is that YOU were supposed to pick her up. She'd been waiting there for two hours. Can't you even answer the phone?"
"Nope," he said, smiling. "I guess I'm that useless."
"At least we can agree on that." He looked his nephew over and frowned. "Take a shower and get ready."
"Why?"
"We're going to Midori's soccer game in an hour. Now hurry up."
Vegeta only rolled his eyes and pushed his way past his uncle.
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"Come on, B," Taisho practically whined. "It's only for a few hours. I promise you'll be home in time to get plenty of sleep for tomorrow."
"I don't know," she sighed, curling the phone cord around her finger nervously. It'd been weeks since she'd been to Satan City, and though the waters may have calmed, she didn't think it was wise for her to go back so soon. Taisho still wouldn't tell her exactly how everyone was, if they'd talked about her at all since she left. True, he didn't really hang out with them, but living with Vegeta there must have been something he knew that he wasn't telling her. "When do I have to be there?"
"An hour or so. Same time it takes you to get here. We can be late, it's fine."
"And you're sure Vegeta won't be there?"
"Vegeta would stab himself in the eye before going anywhere with the family. Just because we share a last name, doesn't mean we share everything."
"Fine," she said after a long pause. "But I better not see any of them."
"Alright, alright. If you even sense one of them near there, we can leave. Ok?"
"Deal. I'll see you in an hour."
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High-powered cheers rippled through the crowd, as agile little people ran back and forth in pursuit of a black and white ball. Bulma had just gotten into the city five minutes before, embarrassed to make Taisho late for his sister's first soccer game of the season. He assured her that it was no big deal, and that he would rather not be there, but he only came to give his sister support.
"Which team?" Bulma asked as they approached the field, the running figures still blurred dots of color.
"Red," Taisho replied, instinctively wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him. He still couldn't believe that she was actually in his life again. For four years he'd wondered if he would ever see her again. After awhile, however, he learned to accept that she wasn't coming back, ever. And then, a little less than three weeks ago, she shows up at his door and—Bam!—they're instantly joined at the hip. It was more than he could hope for. Ayano was the missing piece of his life that had been filled, and Bulma was his exact compliment. It was almost as if he had two soul mates.
"What position does she play?" As the people started to take shape, Bulma reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of oversized sunglasses. Her hair had already been hidden under a thin snow hat, something not too hot for the cool autumn weather.
"You're too cute," Taisho laughed, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"What do you expect?" she sighed in annoyance. He knew it wasn't directed at him. "I get hounded every time I leave the house. Did you see my picture in the paper after I came here last time? It's ridiculous."
"What? You're not leading a double life as a high school student in Satan City?"
"Shut up." But she couldn't help but laugh. Then, very abruptly she stopped, and so did her laughter. Taisho stopped as well, his eyes drifting along her line of vision. For a moment he didn't believe was he was seeing, and then his blood began pumping, and he swore angrily under his breath. "What the hell—"
"I don't know," he spat unintentionally. "I'll go find out. You stay here."
He crossed the long stretch of lawn twice as fast as he would normally walk, stopping dead in front of the source of his anger.
"You mind?" came an annoyed voice.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Taisho seethed, wanting to grab him by the collar and force his face into the ground.
"Your know-nothing father made me come. Take it up with that asshole."
"Pipe down," Mr. Ouji snapped, keeping his eyes on his star daughter on the field.
"You have to leave, Vegeta," Taisho said, ignoring their unimportant bickering.
"Gladly," he said, rolling his eyes.
"So go."
"He's not going anywhere," his father said coolly. "Vegeta and I have reached an agreement. He treats me like the father I've been to him since my brother and his wife died, and no more 'cruel and unusual' punishments." By that he meant no more fistfights in the basement were Mrs. Ouji was none the wiser. They were evenly matched, of course, though nine times out of ten Mr. Ouji's anger drove him further. Vegeta agreed to their arrangement only for health reasons; he'd rather keep all his teeth.
"This is shit!" Taisho swore. The heads of all the parents in the crowd snapped in his direction, glaring daggers for using such language around their innocent children. "Tell him to leave, dad. I won't let him ruin today for me."
"What are you talking about, boy?" Mr. Ouji sighed, finally turning to the dispute at hand. "I didn't think he bothered you as much as he bothered me."
"Bulma is here," he said under his breath to keep everyone from hearing and going into comas at the sight of a movie star. "She can only be in town for the game. If I knew HE was going to be here I wouldn't have brought her."
"Then don't let me spoil it," Vegeta scoffed, standing up.
"I don't think so Vegeta," Mr. Ouji said, pushing his shoulder for him to sit. "This is part of the agreement, remember? You need to spend more time with Midori. You know how she feels about you, for some reason."
"Screw you both," Taisho snapped. He usually got along rather well with his father, the stone cold authority figure, but sometimes he just couldn't contain his anger. "I'm leaving."
"If you really want to upset your sister," Mr. Ouji said, turning back to the game. Taisho stopped short, a pang slamming through his heart when his eyes met with little Midori on the field. She beamed at him for an instant, then charged down the field at the ball. She was quite aggressive for someone her age.
Taisho sighed in agitation, looked to Bulma across the field, and motioned for her to come over. She hesitated for a minute or so, then slowly made her way over, all the while keeping her head down. When she finally reached the bleachers, she tucked herself close to Taisho, wrapping her arms around his waist, and took a took as far from Vegeta as possible, while staying near the family, Mrs. Ouji on her other side.
"I hardly recognize you," Mrs. Ouji laughed, patting Bulma's knee. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too," Bulma said quietly, her eyes darting to Vegeta every now and then. He seemed unaffected by her presence, though, to be fair, he seemed unaffected by his entire environment. She doubted he was seeing the game even with his eyes fixed on the field.
She sighed deeply and vowed not to look at him again for the rest of the game. But she wanted so badly just to hold him and cry in his arms, tell him every last detail and beg to be forgiven. But that would never happen, she'd lost her chance at any sort of a relationship with any of them, and so, with a heavy heart, she watched Midori score a goal.
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Bulma took a seat in the overstuffed chair she was told to sit in. It was only her second time being in this situation, the first having gone horribly wrong. After that she vowed to never set foot in a place like that again, but, when her job was on the line, she had no choice but to break her vow.
"Good morning, Miss Briefs," the woman with wire-rimmed glasses said, setting an official-looking notebook in her lap. "How are you feeling? I understand you're skeptical about this treatment."
"I don't believe I need a shrink. No offense, but I think it's a crock."
"None taken, Miss Briefs. Most people believe the same thing. But please, loosen yourself up to make this better for the both of us. You don't want to be here, and I don't want you here if you're just going to make me and yourself miserable."
Bulma nodded, rolling her eyes when Mrs. Arato looked away and at her paperwork. When she looked up again there was sympathy evident in her eyes. She'd forgotten that she would have the records of her other visits to a psychiatrist.
"Bulma, your…past is very…"
"Depressing?" she offered, settling into her seat. It was going to be a long secession.
"Do you mind if we touch up on it for now? Maybe that will help us learn more precisely you developed your temper."
"Fine," she sighed.
"When did you start dating Mr.—"
"I'd rather you didn't say his name," Bulma said quickly, a hint of emotion shining through.
"Fair enough. When did you start dating him?"
"Two years ago, give or take a few days." Her face was still the mask of indifference, though the more she was prodded, the more she knew she wouldn't be able to keep in. for two years, even since she'd met HIM, she'd kept her emotions to herself. It wasn't until that final night that even her parents find out what had been going on. And by then it was too late to protect her.
"Had how long were you together before he started to change?"
Bulma closed her eyes momentarily, as if she needed to picture the exact moment in order to tell it.
"It was little things," she finally said. "When we were just dating, he would make a big deal about me being absolutely happy. Everything had to be perfect. After we made it official, it was like it didn't matter. Like it was only to get me to be with him. And when I was finally with him the game was over."
"Why didn't you leave then? When it was easy?"
"Because I didn't know how bad it would get. I didn't want to believe that a guy that had been so wonderful could change so drastically. In the first month he stood me up for four dates and never bothered to explain himself. Three months of dating and he'd go days without calling or stopping by…I tried to talk to him about how I felt, but he didn't give me the time of day. And when I tried to break it off, he shoved me into a wall and…well, he made me know that if I left I'd regret it."
"Why didn't you tell your parents? Or friends? Why let him continue doing this to you for two years?"
"Because they all loved him. And I wanted to believe that I could change him. Maybe if we were together long enough he would see what he was doing to me and make it better…Needless to say, that didn't happen."
"When…" Mrs. Arato began, averting her eyes. "When did he first…lay hands on you?"
"We'd been living together for three months. On my eighteenth birthday he practically forced me to move in with him. My parents didn't object, because he went to them first…We got into a huge fight about nothing and I went to leave. He told me I couldn't go, and threw me on the bed…He said…He said he would kill me if I tried to leave again…I felt the first few hits and then I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital three days later…He told them we got into our first fight and I was so upset that I ran off, and just happened to get mugged…Heh. They ate up every word. Didn't even ask me if it was true."
Bulma lifted her head for the first time after beginning her little speech, her face showing visible signs of sadness. If Mrs. Arato hadn't been looking for them, though, she would have missed them completely.
"I let him do that to me for too long," she sighed, shaking her head. "The last time I was in the hospital, I almost didn't make it…" She took a deep breath in an attempt to keep from crying. How many times had she been over this with the other shrink? It hadn't meant anything to her then; she was so numb she hardly thought about what she was saying. Ever since he'd been back to Satan City, her past had been affecting her more and more. "That was when my parents knew something was going on. He skipped town the next day. I haven't seen or heard from him since. He hasn't been in the news or anything…It's like he vanished…" She laughed suddenly, startling Mrs. Arato. The bitterness of it struck a certain cord in her. "I still check the back seat of my car incase he's lurking back there. I can't go out at night without a gun. It's insane…"
"It's unfair," Mrs. Arato said, leaning forward. "Why not go to the police? Surely your parents wanted that."
"Of course they did," she snapped, offended. "They care about it. It's not their fault that I didn't tell them the truth. The first thing they did was call my lawyer. But the moment I said I didn't want any of this in the press, the case drifted away. He was gone and so they couldn't arrest him, and if I didn't want the case public then there could be no case. No celebrity can have legal matters without the entire world knowing about it…I'm just lucky no one knows what he did to me. The last thing I need after that is pity."
"Is that why you didn't tell your friends back home?"
Bulma stared at her in half horror, half anger.
"I read the papers. I guessed that you hadn't told them."
"Yes," she sighed. "That's why. They have every right to be angry with me for not contacting them. They were my best friends for so long and I didn't tell them what was going on in my life? It's awful. I don't deserve their forgiveness or their friendship."
"Bulma," the doctor sighed. "You're being too hard on yourself. How can you blame yourself for what happened to you and how you dealt with it?"
"My secession's over doctor," she said firmly, and walked out without saying good-bye.
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Vegeta rolled unceremoniously out of bed and pulled open the curtains. In his bed, his date from the night before groaned. He glared down at her as if her being there weren't his doing in the least.
"What's the big idea?" she yawned, opening her eyes.
"Get your shit and go home."
"Ass," she muttered, but did as she was told. She really didn't want to be there any more than he wanted her there. She was gone within minutes, leaving him to his raging thoughts. For weeks he'd been suppressing his thoughts about her, but it seemed there was no stopping them. He was more in love with her now than ever, and, what's worse, he was beginning to see it. The hurt was almost too much to stomach.
He walked slowly over to his full-length mirror, his brow heavily knit. But the moment the vision of her entered his mind, his brow softened and he turned away. This was no way to spend a life, wanting and never getting. What was he even still angry about? He missed her more than she'd hurt him. And with her, there HAD to be a perfectly good explanation, he knew it. All that was left was to somehow find out what it was.
Without another thought or concern, he slipped on his boots, grabbed a jacket, and was out the door.
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Bulma cried softly into her pillows, the weight of her life crushing her with relentless force. Her parents were gone for a week on business; she had the household portion of the complex to herself, and she was so lonely. She was not looking forward to working tomorrow, having to face all those people who didn't know her or care about her. They all wanted the same thing; her acting. When she was done, they were done with her.
"I don't want this life anymore," she sobbed, picking herself up. What she needed right now was a nice warm bath. It wouldn't fix anything, but it sure as hell would calm her some. "But what else do I have?" she sighed, turning on the faucet. "Nothing…"
She was just about to get undressed, when she heard a knock at the front door. Normally she wouldn't have thought twice about it, for someone was always around to answer it, but she was absolutely alone; she'd sent all the servants away the moment her parents were gone.
Quickly, so not to seem rude, she shut off the faucet and ran downstairs, a smile set in her features for whoever it may be. Usually a business associate of her father's. When she opened the door, however, her smile quickly faded. She wasn't expecting this in the least.
"Vegeta, what the hell are—"
But her words fell short, as he cupped her face and pulled her in for a kiss they'd both been waiting for their entire lives. Suddenly she wasn't so sad anymore.
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---Chapter 5!!! Damn I'm mean, huh? Heehee. And I'm really speedy this time, getting them to kiss so soon, but you'll see what my plans are in good time. I promise this won't be some quick 6 chapter fic, or whatever. I plan to have it be at least as long as my others, 20 chapters or more. There's much more I plan on doing with this, so stay tuned! :P
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (ReviewsMore Chapters)
Next time: What's going on!? Kami! :)
Note: Yeah, I realize that it would be pretty hard for Vegeta to get to Bulma's front door, seeing as she's so famous, but let's pretend to not notice :P
"Kuso," she swore, shoving the card into her pocket. "I do not need to see a damn shrink." Her fellow actors and actresses would stronger disagree. Bulma Briefs, once Japan's fresh new sweetheart, was now the farthest thing from it. It was almost as if some unknown tragedy had befallen her, altering her persona completely.
Little did they know, that their guesses were painfully true.
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"Vegeta!" an angry masculine voice bellowed, followed by furious banging. He took a deep breath, heaved the barbell back onto its holder, and sat up.
"What!" he called back, annoyed. He couldn't stand it when people interrupted his exercising.
"Get your ass up here now!"
"Bite me!"
"Kami, damn it, Vegeta! If you don't—" Vegeta drudged up the basement stairs and flung open the door, glaring heatedly at his uncle Okura. They did NOT get along. "Your aunt asked you to pick Midori up at Day Care this afternoon."
"And?"
"And! Where the hell were you!"
"Is she home now?"
"Yes," he snapped, clenching his fists at his sides.
"Is she alive?"
"Yes!"
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem, Vegeta, is that YOU were supposed to pick her up. She'd been waiting there for two hours. Can't you even answer the phone?"
"Nope," he said, smiling. "I guess I'm that useless."
"At least we can agree on that." He looked his nephew over and frowned. "Take a shower and get ready."
"Why?"
"We're going to Midori's soccer game in an hour. Now hurry up."
Vegeta only rolled his eyes and pushed his way past his uncle.
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"Come on, B," Taisho practically whined. "It's only for a few hours. I promise you'll be home in time to get plenty of sleep for tomorrow."
"I don't know," she sighed, curling the phone cord around her finger nervously. It'd been weeks since she'd been to Satan City, and though the waters may have calmed, she didn't think it was wise for her to go back so soon. Taisho still wouldn't tell her exactly how everyone was, if they'd talked about her at all since she left. True, he didn't really hang out with them, but living with Vegeta there must have been something he knew that he wasn't telling her. "When do I have to be there?"
"An hour or so. Same time it takes you to get here. We can be late, it's fine."
"And you're sure Vegeta won't be there?"
"Vegeta would stab himself in the eye before going anywhere with the family. Just because we share a last name, doesn't mean we share everything."
"Fine," she said after a long pause. "But I better not see any of them."
"Alright, alright. If you even sense one of them near there, we can leave. Ok?"
"Deal. I'll see you in an hour."
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High-powered cheers rippled through the crowd, as agile little people ran back and forth in pursuit of a black and white ball. Bulma had just gotten into the city five minutes before, embarrassed to make Taisho late for his sister's first soccer game of the season. He assured her that it was no big deal, and that he would rather not be there, but he only came to give his sister support.
"Which team?" Bulma asked as they approached the field, the running figures still blurred dots of color.
"Red," Taisho replied, instinctively wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him. He still couldn't believe that she was actually in his life again. For four years he'd wondered if he would ever see her again. After awhile, however, he learned to accept that she wasn't coming back, ever. And then, a little less than three weeks ago, she shows up at his door and—Bam!—they're instantly joined at the hip. It was more than he could hope for. Ayano was the missing piece of his life that had been filled, and Bulma was his exact compliment. It was almost as if he had two soul mates.
"What position does she play?" As the people started to take shape, Bulma reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of oversized sunglasses. Her hair had already been hidden under a thin snow hat, something not too hot for the cool autumn weather.
"You're too cute," Taisho laughed, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
"What do you expect?" she sighed in annoyance. He knew it wasn't directed at him. "I get hounded every time I leave the house. Did you see my picture in the paper after I came here last time? It's ridiculous."
"What? You're not leading a double life as a high school student in Satan City?"
"Shut up." But she couldn't help but laugh. Then, very abruptly she stopped, and so did her laughter. Taisho stopped as well, his eyes drifting along her line of vision. For a moment he didn't believe was he was seeing, and then his blood began pumping, and he swore angrily under his breath. "What the hell—"
"I don't know," he spat unintentionally. "I'll go find out. You stay here."
He crossed the long stretch of lawn twice as fast as he would normally walk, stopping dead in front of the source of his anger.
"You mind?" came an annoyed voice.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Taisho seethed, wanting to grab him by the collar and force his face into the ground.
"Your know-nothing father made me come. Take it up with that asshole."
"Pipe down," Mr. Ouji snapped, keeping his eyes on his star daughter on the field.
"You have to leave, Vegeta," Taisho said, ignoring their unimportant bickering.
"Gladly," he said, rolling his eyes.
"So go."
"He's not going anywhere," his father said coolly. "Vegeta and I have reached an agreement. He treats me like the father I've been to him since my brother and his wife died, and no more 'cruel and unusual' punishments." By that he meant no more fistfights in the basement were Mrs. Ouji was none the wiser. They were evenly matched, of course, though nine times out of ten Mr. Ouji's anger drove him further. Vegeta agreed to their arrangement only for health reasons; he'd rather keep all his teeth.
"This is shit!" Taisho swore. The heads of all the parents in the crowd snapped in his direction, glaring daggers for using such language around their innocent children. "Tell him to leave, dad. I won't let him ruin today for me."
"What are you talking about, boy?" Mr. Ouji sighed, finally turning to the dispute at hand. "I didn't think he bothered you as much as he bothered me."
"Bulma is here," he said under his breath to keep everyone from hearing and going into comas at the sight of a movie star. "She can only be in town for the game. If I knew HE was going to be here I wouldn't have brought her."
"Then don't let me spoil it," Vegeta scoffed, standing up.
"I don't think so Vegeta," Mr. Ouji said, pushing his shoulder for him to sit. "This is part of the agreement, remember? You need to spend more time with Midori. You know how she feels about you, for some reason."
"Screw you both," Taisho snapped. He usually got along rather well with his father, the stone cold authority figure, but sometimes he just couldn't contain his anger. "I'm leaving."
"If you really want to upset your sister," Mr. Ouji said, turning back to the game. Taisho stopped short, a pang slamming through his heart when his eyes met with little Midori on the field. She beamed at him for an instant, then charged down the field at the ball. She was quite aggressive for someone her age.
Taisho sighed in agitation, looked to Bulma across the field, and motioned for her to come over. She hesitated for a minute or so, then slowly made her way over, all the while keeping her head down. When she finally reached the bleachers, she tucked herself close to Taisho, wrapping her arms around his waist, and took a took as far from Vegeta as possible, while staying near the family, Mrs. Ouji on her other side.
"I hardly recognize you," Mrs. Ouji laughed, patting Bulma's knee. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too," Bulma said quietly, her eyes darting to Vegeta every now and then. He seemed unaffected by her presence, though, to be fair, he seemed unaffected by his entire environment. She doubted he was seeing the game even with his eyes fixed on the field.
She sighed deeply and vowed not to look at him again for the rest of the game. But she wanted so badly just to hold him and cry in his arms, tell him every last detail and beg to be forgiven. But that would never happen, she'd lost her chance at any sort of a relationship with any of them, and so, with a heavy heart, she watched Midori score a goal.
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Bulma took a seat in the overstuffed chair she was told to sit in. It was only her second time being in this situation, the first having gone horribly wrong. After that she vowed to never set foot in a place like that again, but, when her job was on the line, she had no choice but to break her vow.
"Good morning, Miss Briefs," the woman with wire-rimmed glasses said, setting an official-looking notebook in her lap. "How are you feeling? I understand you're skeptical about this treatment."
"I don't believe I need a shrink. No offense, but I think it's a crock."
"None taken, Miss Briefs. Most people believe the same thing. But please, loosen yourself up to make this better for the both of us. You don't want to be here, and I don't want you here if you're just going to make me and yourself miserable."
Bulma nodded, rolling her eyes when Mrs. Arato looked away and at her paperwork. When she looked up again there was sympathy evident in her eyes. She'd forgotten that she would have the records of her other visits to a psychiatrist.
"Bulma, your…past is very…"
"Depressing?" she offered, settling into her seat. It was going to be a long secession.
"Do you mind if we touch up on it for now? Maybe that will help us learn more precisely you developed your temper."
"Fine," she sighed.
"When did you start dating Mr.—"
"I'd rather you didn't say his name," Bulma said quickly, a hint of emotion shining through.
"Fair enough. When did you start dating him?"
"Two years ago, give or take a few days." Her face was still the mask of indifference, though the more she was prodded, the more she knew she wouldn't be able to keep in. for two years, even since she'd met HIM, she'd kept her emotions to herself. It wasn't until that final night that even her parents find out what had been going on. And by then it was too late to protect her.
"Had how long were you together before he started to change?"
Bulma closed her eyes momentarily, as if she needed to picture the exact moment in order to tell it.
"It was little things," she finally said. "When we were just dating, he would make a big deal about me being absolutely happy. Everything had to be perfect. After we made it official, it was like it didn't matter. Like it was only to get me to be with him. And when I was finally with him the game was over."
"Why didn't you leave then? When it was easy?"
"Because I didn't know how bad it would get. I didn't want to believe that a guy that had been so wonderful could change so drastically. In the first month he stood me up for four dates and never bothered to explain himself. Three months of dating and he'd go days without calling or stopping by…I tried to talk to him about how I felt, but he didn't give me the time of day. And when I tried to break it off, he shoved me into a wall and…well, he made me know that if I left I'd regret it."
"Why didn't you tell your parents? Or friends? Why let him continue doing this to you for two years?"
"Because they all loved him. And I wanted to believe that I could change him. Maybe if we were together long enough he would see what he was doing to me and make it better…Needless to say, that didn't happen."
"When…" Mrs. Arato began, averting her eyes. "When did he first…lay hands on you?"
"We'd been living together for three months. On my eighteenth birthday he practically forced me to move in with him. My parents didn't object, because he went to them first…We got into a huge fight about nothing and I went to leave. He told me I couldn't go, and threw me on the bed…He said…He said he would kill me if I tried to leave again…I felt the first few hits and then I blacked out. I woke up in the hospital three days later…He told them we got into our first fight and I was so upset that I ran off, and just happened to get mugged…Heh. They ate up every word. Didn't even ask me if it was true."
Bulma lifted her head for the first time after beginning her little speech, her face showing visible signs of sadness. If Mrs. Arato hadn't been looking for them, though, she would have missed them completely.
"I let him do that to me for too long," she sighed, shaking her head. "The last time I was in the hospital, I almost didn't make it…" She took a deep breath in an attempt to keep from crying. How many times had she been over this with the other shrink? It hadn't meant anything to her then; she was so numb she hardly thought about what she was saying. Ever since he'd been back to Satan City, her past had been affecting her more and more. "That was when my parents knew something was going on. He skipped town the next day. I haven't seen or heard from him since. He hasn't been in the news or anything…It's like he vanished…" She laughed suddenly, startling Mrs. Arato. The bitterness of it struck a certain cord in her. "I still check the back seat of my car incase he's lurking back there. I can't go out at night without a gun. It's insane…"
"It's unfair," Mrs. Arato said, leaning forward. "Why not go to the police? Surely your parents wanted that."
"Of course they did," she snapped, offended. "They care about it. It's not their fault that I didn't tell them the truth. The first thing they did was call my lawyer. But the moment I said I didn't want any of this in the press, the case drifted away. He was gone and so they couldn't arrest him, and if I didn't want the case public then there could be no case. No celebrity can have legal matters without the entire world knowing about it…I'm just lucky no one knows what he did to me. The last thing I need after that is pity."
"Is that why you didn't tell your friends back home?"
Bulma stared at her in half horror, half anger.
"I read the papers. I guessed that you hadn't told them."
"Yes," she sighed. "That's why. They have every right to be angry with me for not contacting them. They were my best friends for so long and I didn't tell them what was going on in my life? It's awful. I don't deserve their forgiveness or their friendship."
"Bulma," the doctor sighed. "You're being too hard on yourself. How can you blame yourself for what happened to you and how you dealt with it?"
"My secession's over doctor," she said firmly, and walked out without saying good-bye.
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Vegeta rolled unceremoniously out of bed and pulled open the curtains. In his bed, his date from the night before groaned. He glared down at her as if her being there weren't his doing in the least.
"What's the big idea?" she yawned, opening her eyes.
"Get your shit and go home."
"Ass," she muttered, but did as she was told. She really didn't want to be there any more than he wanted her there. She was gone within minutes, leaving him to his raging thoughts. For weeks he'd been suppressing his thoughts about her, but it seemed there was no stopping them. He was more in love with her now than ever, and, what's worse, he was beginning to see it. The hurt was almost too much to stomach.
He walked slowly over to his full-length mirror, his brow heavily knit. But the moment the vision of her entered his mind, his brow softened and he turned away. This was no way to spend a life, wanting and never getting. What was he even still angry about? He missed her more than she'd hurt him. And with her, there HAD to be a perfectly good explanation, he knew it. All that was left was to somehow find out what it was.
Without another thought or concern, he slipped on his boots, grabbed a jacket, and was out the door.
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Bulma cried softly into her pillows, the weight of her life crushing her with relentless force. Her parents were gone for a week on business; she had the household portion of the complex to herself, and she was so lonely. She was not looking forward to working tomorrow, having to face all those people who didn't know her or care about her. They all wanted the same thing; her acting. When she was done, they were done with her.
"I don't want this life anymore," she sobbed, picking herself up. What she needed right now was a nice warm bath. It wouldn't fix anything, but it sure as hell would calm her some. "But what else do I have?" she sighed, turning on the faucet. "Nothing…"
She was just about to get undressed, when she heard a knock at the front door. Normally she wouldn't have thought twice about it, for someone was always around to answer it, but she was absolutely alone; she'd sent all the servants away the moment her parents were gone.
Quickly, so not to seem rude, she shut off the faucet and ran downstairs, a smile set in her features for whoever it may be. Usually a business associate of her father's. When she opened the door, however, her smile quickly faded. She wasn't expecting this in the least.
"Vegeta, what the hell are—"
But her words fell short, as he cupped her face and pulled her in for a kiss they'd both been waiting for their entire lives. Suddenly she wasn't so sad anymore.
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---Chapter 5!!! Damn I'm mean, huh? Heehee. And I'm really speedy this time, getting them to kiss so soon, but you'll see what my plans are in good time. I promise this won't be some quick 6 chapter fic, or whatever. I plan to have it be at least as long as my others, 20 chapters or more. There's much more I plan on doing with this, so stay tuned! :P
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Next time: What's going on!? Kami! :)
Note: Yeah, I realize that it would be pretty hard for Vegeta to get to Bulma's front door, seeing as she's so famous, but let's pretend to not notice :P