All DBZ relations, characters, etc. belong to Akira Toriyama, and the lyrics below belong to American Hi Fi and their crew.

Dear Bulma,

I've been thinking about yesterday. what happened at the resteraunt-- you didn't have to run out angrylike you did. I couldn't control what happened...

(I don't need to know why
Cause tommorow i'll be fine
I should learn to be still
IfI close my eye I'll realize what you meant)

I know, I know, people were staring. But that being... you remember him: he had the tail, and that sickly pale lizard skin. He did something a long time ago, and hell, I couldn't let that akutama get away with what he has done! I couldn't control the urge to destroy him... I wouldn't disrespect and dishonor my race. It's not my fault...

(Don't wait for the sun
It could turn black any day
I lost my hat in the clouds
When will the haze go away
I never wanted this)

It had to be done, woman. Everyone was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
He had it coming to him. It happened just how my father had desired.

(Now it's all I've got
Someone else is keeping time
I think I'm falling apart
If you were me would you do it likeI do?)

I hope you can understand this. You can't just sit around and pretend like nothing is happening around us-- like life is simple. It's not, and you have to take it like a warrior. Someday, these evils will leave this place forever.
But not today.

(Don't wait for the sun
It could turn black any day
I lost my hat in the clouds
When will the haze go away?
I never wanted this)

I hope you can accept my approach to these kind of situations. I am not forgiving for the chaos that took place; The bastard was going to show up eventually woman. Those innocents may or may not be remembered, but you can't worry about that right now.

It hasn't left us yet.

(Don't wait for the sun
It could turn black any day
I lost my hat in the clouds
When will the haze go away?
I never wanted this)

Vegeta

The dampened paper drifted to the burgandy carpet, settling at Bulma's small, fair feet.
She clung her balled fists to her chest for dear life as she collapsed to her knees,
a small, salty tear streaming down her fair, made-up face. The sun setted outside of her marble balcony's entrance, resulting in a beautiful sillouette of West Capital City's cityscape. Lifting her hung head to the now visible stars, Bulma cried out loud in agony and from the feeling of loss. Her mate decapitated dozens of West Capital City residents inside of an resteraunt and sprewed blood everwhere, but most of all, broken his promise to her of not risking other lives in the process of eliminating oppositions to oblivion.
Suddenly, a shooting star fell across the horizon, brightening Bulma's big, ocean eyes.
"Oh Vegeta... how could you? Why can't you keep a promise? If you would just show me proof that you could. You have been given so many chances, and broken my heart each time. Each time Vegeta! Damn you! Damn you..." Bulma spoke outloud, to Vegeta, but mostly to herself. The she saw a dart of light-- a light far out in the growing night sky.

"No... it can't be him..."

Then she saw it again, twinkling into the distance. It was him!

"Oh Vegeta, I never meant to run out like that. Please come home..." Bulma whispered into the warm breeze. Bulma lowered her face into her hands, tears from her small fountains streaming down her porcelain skin.

A cool breeze blew behind her, causing her to raise her head. A cool but comforting voice came from behind, ringing in her ears and in her desperate heart:

"I am home, woman."