The Mournful Cry of a Wolf
You can own the Earth but, still, can you paint with all the colors of the wind? -Colors of the Wind, Pocahontas
And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon -Colors of the Wind, Pocahontas
I know I was never the best boyfriend, but she was never the best girlfriend either. Sure, I looked at other females sometimes, but I didn't obsess over them like she thinks I did. She would think that if I even so much as looked at another woman that I was cheating on her, yet, her favorite pastime was to goggle at other men and fantasize about them. I can remember her asking me if I was serious when I asked for her hand. I was. I did love her so much, but we were never meant to be.
If you want proof as to what I said earlier about her and other men, I'll give you an example. Goku, at the 23rd Budokai, she practically drooled over him. It was sickening to watch. Maybe that's when everything began.
Deep down, I think I always knew we weren't each other's soul mate as she had said we were. We were too different. We were too alike. She thought I was wasteful when I gave money to charities once my professional baseball career started. I know what it's like to go without food, shelter, and all the other necessities a person needs to live a normal life. She grew up the richest girl on the planet, knowing very little of the world outside. Sure, her eyes opened a little when she went to Namek, but she always seemed ignorant of other people's suffering. I have to say, I actually find her better to be around now, when she's married with one kid and another on the way, than I did when she was my girlfriend. I think it's because her eyes had to open and she had to worry about someone other than herself for once.
I wasn't born rich. I was born to a single teen mother who died shortly after my birth; she had lost to much blood, that's what they told me. I was sent to an orphanage where we were abused sexually, mentally, and physically every day, every hour, every moment. I was one of the lucky ones, I was young, so they couldn't really do anything to me. I remember when the place was set on fire. I ran for my life and ended up in the Diablo Desert, all alone, lost and scared.
The wolves saved me. If not for them, I would never be alive. Puar, who had been the one who found me says that the wolves cared for me for a month, while I drowsed in and out of consciousness. I have no memories of this time, but I know it runs so deeply in my blood, that this is the truth. If you don't get what I mean, let me explain. There's something out there that you love or know, and to such an extent you feel like without it, you could die. It's that important to you.
The wolf is a beautiful, intelligent, peaceful, proud, and strong animal. Why else would I dedicate the very foremost of my training to them?
The wind blows and rustles my hair, now short. She wanted it short. And so, it was. I remember the days when I had hair that looked a bit like Gohan's before his mother cut it. The breeze feels cool against my neck and I gaze at the moon, wishing that I could hear the mournful cry of a wolf. To me, the most beautiful, and sad, thing in the world is a wolf's howl. Though, each time I hear it, a small tear springs to my eyes as I reminisce days gone by. The days when life was simple.
I knew, even back then, that she would end up with Vegeta. Don't ask me how, I just did, and I was right. It's weird in a way, but when I was able to hold a real conversation with Vegeta, something about him reminded me of her. It might have been the look in his eyes, or the tone of his voice, or maybe it was just my paranoia that I might lose the woman I loved to him, but I knew, even if my mind denied it that she and I were never meant to be. That it was the prince before me who would win the heart of the lady of Capsule Corporation.
At the time, when she found me talking to another woman at the restaurant, my new manager at the time, old one now, she yelled at me and I was left to cope with guilt and a feeling that things were unofficially over between us. I watched as Vegeta comforted her and took her over to a table on the other side of the building. But I wondered why was she here with Vegeta? Well, little did I know that they had been sleeping together and that she had been carrying his child for well over three months, closer to four. I didn't find this out until later. Until the androids appeared in fact.
It hurt, when I found out the truth about her. I may not have been the best boyfriend in the world, but she certainly wasn't the best girlfriend. At least all I did was look, I never did anything else.
Pain is a powerful emotion, only surpassed by two. The two are equals of each other and clash often. One is love, the other hate. Hate grows in the shadows while love thrives in the light. In this theory, wouldn't love be more plentiful than hate? But who's to say that the light isn't but a form of the shadows?
Love hurts, so said a wise person many years before my time. That person is a fool. That person is also absolutely correct. I think that the wisest people of all are the ones you see sleeping on the streets, or feeding the pigeons in the park. You can see, just by looking at them, that they have gone through so mush, and survived. Love does hurt. It hurts more than the most harmful injury one can receive from a sad and cynical person such as Vegeta. Love can give someone hope that maybe there is a person out there who understands them and gets them, know what's going on the inside. Love can fool you into feeling complete. But, when that hope fails, pain of unimaginable depths emerge from their hiding spots in the darks of the human heart where all the doubt, wonder, jealousy, and confusion had lain dormant without the knowledge of the mind. Or maybe, the mind does know, but it pushes them all away so that it doesn't have to deal with them until its time.
I stand on this balcony, lost to the world. I am known as a great baseball player. I am known as the weakest of the Earth's Special forces. I am known as Bulma Briefs' ex boyfriend. I am known as a friend to many. I am known to be reluctant of pain. I am known for my fear of death. I am known for many things, but do people know the truth behind the façade I wear? I am known for many things, but the thing most seem to have forgotten as I stand on my lonely balcony this night that I am a human being named Yamcha. People do not want to know about the pains someone has endured in the past, they want to look cool. And that means forgetting the past. I know that I am just a passing fad, that tomorrow I could be old news and people will barely know who I am. It stings a little, but I can get over it.
I'll be awaiting the mournful cry of a wolf as the moon reappears and is serenaded. Days have passed since then, but I can still hear it in my bones that someday, I will return to the desert, my home.
A/N: A Yamcha one shot. Well, did you like? I don't know why, but out of the middle on nowhere this afternoon, this hit me. Well, the first line did anyways, and the rest just spilled out from there. Since we never know what happens during those three years, this is just my little take on what could have happened. I like Yamcha, but I feel that after Vegeta arrives that he gets pushed to the side and forgotten, like Launch was after Dragon Ball ended.
Well, I don't own anything in this story, but feel free to review if you want. I don't want to pressure anyone into feeling like they have to review, but it is nice when I do get reviews.