Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.
The Perfect Flaw
Chapter XIV
The first Dragon Ball was relatively easy for him to find. However, it was distance that consumed her valuable time.
The first Dragon Ball that seemed closest on the Radar had been across the ocean, in Ireland. Bulma had had a nagging fear in her stomach that the Prince would once again spark pandemonium among the citizens, just as he had in New York, but then recalled with relief the promise she'd forced him to make of not harming another human. She guessed that in a way it had been an advantage of him having unexpectedly found the Radar.
Bulma looked down below them to find a monstrous lake, and she only grew more nervous as something flashed across her brain. With his impatience (not to mention the feral smile on his face at finally having found the location of a Dragon Ball), the Prince looked as though he was about ready to dive head first into that water, with her still locked against his chest. And there was no way in the world her fragile skull was going to be able to sustain such a collision.
So, doing the only thing she was capable of, Bulma began to squirm.
Vegeta's smile twisted into a confused scowl as he whipped around to glare at the woman who was suddenly restless. "What the hell are you doing!"
Bracing her palms against his chest plate she pushed her backward with a look of pure struggle, like a baby communicating through charade; and the answer to this charade was: "I want down." Bulma managed to open one of her clenched eyes, enough to give him an awkward glare.
Now if she were on Planet Vegeta, and were in the Palace while doing this, she would have, like any other slave with common sense, dropped her voice to a meek, honorific level; she would have averted her eyes like the subordinate she was, letting him know for certain that she knew her place. For Bulma knew very well that direct eye contact, with an Elite, let alone Royalty, could lead to possible death.
But now . . . hell, what did she have to lose?
Besides my tongue.
"Would you mind putting me down first, before you think about diving into that lake?" As Bulma spoke, his glare did not waver. Her chin jutted indignantly. "How about if I put it this way: if you plunge into that water with me as I am, let's just say you'll be coming back up with nothing but a bloody heap in your arms."
At this, the same, feral grin returned. "Forgive me; but I fail to see why that would be a bad thing."
In response, Bulma gave a small "hmph". Smart ass.
But nevertheless, he must have seen her point, for she then found herself giving a silent sigh when she felt firm ground beneath her deprived feet. And when she turned to look at him, she instead witnessed his distant form as he headed for the lake. In fascination, almost smugly, she watched as he was nothing more than a blur when he plunged, just as she'd predicted, head first into the water, stirring up an immense surge of water.
But what had really held Bulma steadfast in that moment, was pure shock.
Had he just left her without supervision? Alone?
Does he really trust me? Or is it that he's just too cocky to think I could actually escape from him?
Most likely the second one.
But still, it gave the stuck up scientist the itch to sprint off in the other directionjust to disobey his implied command to stay put. But dammit, even though she wanted that more than anything presently, she knew she couldn't; she couldn't forget her new mission: to steal that Goddamn Radar! But for God's sake, freedom was right there! It was like dangling a piece of candy over her; this was pure torture!
It was only a couple minutes later, as she sat drumming her fingers amid the luscious grass, having recuperated over her urge to run away over the hills, when she heard the distant rumble. She could feel it as well; it quaked beneath her feet, and soon the only thing of Bulma's that didn't still was her racing heart. Skimming the lake, the human girl had to squint until spotting the cluster of bubbles that had begun to surface. Now curious, she absently stood and continued to watch intently.
It happened so suddenly, she didn't even have time to jump in surprise. She was left awestruck, her mouth agape as she stared skyward to the monster whose shadow now engulfed her entire being— the serpent that seemed to soar into the clouds.
In illusion it seemingly paused in its journey to the sun, leaving Bulma to only continue her entranced study of the creature's sleek, green scales that shimmered with droplets of moisture. Enamored, the corner of her mouth quirked upward.
And in the next instant, that moment of beauty shattered. For without the slightest warning, the monster's frame began to grotesquely expand, it's skin becoming translucent, until a sound unimaginable by human ears ripped through the silence.
The girl dared not move, dared not budge, for she already knew very well of what substance now lathered her body.
All she could do as her immobilized limbs trembled in both rage and shock, was open her mouth to release the second sound which was deafening, even to her own ears.
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"No senzu beans!"
Krillin's face contorted into one of complete horror as he stared at Korin with boggled eyes. Even more astounding was how calm the cat remained, his eyes hidden under the bushy, feline brows, his chubby fingers(A/N: paws. Well, you get my point.) laced nonchalantly behind his back. Did he not understand the danger of their situation!
At least Yamucha shared in his shock.
"What the hell happened to them!" he yelled, his hands grabbing his unruly locks in panic.
Korin brought a paw politely to his mouth and gave an awkward cough, ignoring how Yajirobe began to inch backward. "Well, a certain someone happened to eat them."
Automatically, both Krillin and Yamucha reeled on the only possible culprit.
Yajirobe froze when angry eyes fell upon him. "Well, it's not my fault!" he snapped in self defense, his face subconsciously reddening. He began to pant under the pressure. "T-there was nothing to eat, a-and I didn't think anyone was gonna actually need them!"
When the unsettling glares did not recede, Yajirobe continued to back away. "Back off; I've gotta sword!"
Krillin gave an exasperated sigh and turned back to Korin, his fingers coming up to massage his throbbing temples. What was he gonna do? What was he gonna do! For all he knew, Goku could be dead already! But if not, he would have brought him a senzu bean to purge his wounds. What if his best friend was on the brink of death as they spoke? He couldn't just wait around for him to be murdered by whatever was attacking him.
With difficulty,Krillin managed to control his voice over the growing anxiety. "Well, t-that's okay, that's okay. Uh— when can you make more?"
Korin's mustache twitched as an ominous silence fell upon them. And with each second that wasted away, so did Krillin's success of hiding his worry, for he feared for the answer.
"Well!" Yamucha snapped, the suspense tearing at him mercilessly.
"Two days."
Those two words were all it took for Krillin's brave visage to shatter altogether. "T-two days!" he squeaked. "Who knows what will have happened to Goku by then!"
"Well, I'm sorry, but there's nothin' I can do."
Both Yamucha and Krillin's jaws clamped down ferociously while they averted their eyes elsewhere in an attempt to recollect themselves. Could their friend really wait two entire days?
But who knew? Perhaps Goku had won; perhaps it had just been a long battle; perhaps they were worrying over nothing.
Or just maybe Krillin's premonition was correct, and maybe the strongest warrior on the planet was on the brink of death at that very moment.
Solemnly the short one's head turned upward, and he prayed rapidly under his breath: "Please, Goku, wherever you are, just— hold on a little longer . . . please."
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He wasn't sure exactly what woke him. Perhaps the fetid stench that loitered thickly in the air; or the mere breeze that blew affectionately over his stinging skin.
Well whatever it was, he was grateful for it as it stirred him from his sleep. Slowly, as though weighted down by some unknown force, his eyelids fluttered open with blurred vision, and he couldn't help but winced against the sun.
But soon, his view became clear, and it was not something anyone would have wanted to wake up to.
Destruction. Utter destruction surrounded him--- consumed him. He witnessed through a gray haze the jagged, oblique remains of what were once successful skyscrapers; the dull, orange flicker that shone off in the distance as fires plagued numerous areas of the devastated city; with each breath he took, the same putrid smoke which contained the smell of both flames and corpses invaded his once pure lungs.
How long? How long could he have been out for all of this to happen?
His vision began to blur again, only this time it was with tears. Tears from either the burning of his eyes from the scorching heat, or tears from sadness that he had done nothing to prevent this, he didn't know.
With instinctual hope, the kind only a rodent has when cornered, Goku winced as he forced his head to loll the side. But nothing. He was met with the same thing.
What about Chichi? And the others? How were they dealing?
Hopefully that monster hadn't had enough time to make his way to them, for who would protect them? He was their only savior, and he wasn't just saying that to be arrogant. Even Piccolo wouldn't have been a match for that being, and maybe he in all his stubbornness was aware of it, too.
He just . . . couldn't bare to think of anything happening to Chichi. He couldn't bare the thought of her blood being spilled, God dammit!
He had to get up. If she was in danger, he couldn't let a few minor wounds stand in his way of protecting her and their son.
Concentrating on every muscle, every fiber of his being, the determined warrior willed himself a few centimeters from the ground, before another jolt of agony flashed through him, pushing him back down with a pained cry. Okay, he thought wryly, something warm pooling in his mouth, maybe they are a little more than minor wounds.
Minor! Hah! He couldn't even move!
Crack!
Goku's tail tensed at the sudden sound and before he could prevent it, his head snapped to the opposite side, causing another grunt to issue from his opened lips. And with that shout of torment, he felt as the substance which had been entrapped now splattered out onto the concrete before him, leaving a trail that trickled down his dirt caked chin.
He heard a meek gasp, and soon remembering the cause of his alarm his eyes snapped open.
He was surprised to find himself staring into two azure orbs, unbelievably large in their fright.
A little girl.
She stared back at him, petrified, her once golden locks flat and tinted brown from the dust and smoke, her dress torn and ragged as it clung like a toga to her sweaty, filthy skin. Her arm was outstretched, reaching for the broken china doll that lay just inches away from him.
Discreetly her gaze shifted to the tail that twitched beneath what she had thought to be a lifeless man. H-he's one of them. She caught her breath before turning rapidly back to meet his black eyes, her lip quivering as she spoke. "P-please, sir," she whispered, continuing to inch toward her doll in desperation, "don't hurt me . . . please."
It took Goku a moment to realize the cause of her fear. And when it hit him, he swore with bitterness that if he were to survive through all of this, he would make sure to rid of the one thing he was now so ashamed of.
"I would . . ." Goku wheezed, " . . . never hurt you."
Chubby fingers now wrapped weakly around her possession, the girl stopped to look at him in bemusement. Goku waited for her to say something, but she remained silent— staring at him, studying him for something.
Almost uncomfortable, Goku looked curiously to the doll, his chest heaving. "That . . . yours?"
She blinked and turned to the toy in her arms, temporarily forgetting about whom she was talking to as she began her boasting. "Yeah, my mommy gave it to me for my birthday. Her name's Jennifer, and I'm Samantha."
Goku smiled, hardly aware that one of his eyelids was now obsolete and had shut to rest. "Those are . . . pretty names."
A tense silence followed, and the girl once more took a sharp intake of dust and debris, oblivious to how toxic it was to her youthful lungs.
He could tell she was nervous; he could see it in her eyes, the way she twirled her finger around one of the doll's burnt locks. And he wanted to say something, to assure her that she had nothing to fear from him. But his throat constricted, and no sound came when he parted his cracked lips to speak.
So instead he watched as she turned on her heel and sprinted off without another word,
her tiny form, like his last shred of hope, fading into the smoke.
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This was about the fourth sigh she'd given, and now they were nothing but subconscious.
Bulma didn't care that her clothes would get dirty; all she was savoring at the moment was the warmth of the sand and dirt beneath her prone form. She lay leisurely on her stomach, her chin resting upon her folded arms as she stared at her reflection with half-masted eyes. It truly was amazing; she really hadn't thought it possible: that absolute silence— absolute stillness actually existed. How was it that something could be so still, it was as if time itself had frozen?
The water in the oasis was just that, and it almost felt as though she were studying herself in a mirror. And that was another main reason she hadn't moved from her spot: it seemed wanton— sinful— to disrupt such beauty.
As she lay in boredom, her mind began to drift off into reveries of she and only other human she'd ever truly known: Mark, she thought with a depressed sigh, watching in the reflection as a few stray strands of blue hair spilled in front of her forehead.
She guessed she had taken him for granted; after all, he had been the only male that she had ever had an attraction with, and she'd left him without so much as a good bye. If she ever lived to see his handsome face again, she vowed to make it up to him somehow, someway.
Another frame was almost catlike in stealth as they appeared to tower over her, and Bulma whirled onto her back with her heart pounding. She met the cool, amused smirk of the Saiyan Prince.
Taking in her chest heaving, prone position, Vegeta's nose crinkled as he chuckled low in his throat. "Do I frighten you, Woman?"
Though her fear did not dissipate, she pushed it down indignantly and allowed her lips to press into a straight line, and her fine brows lowered in defense. "N-no!" she stammered, climbing to her feet to rid of the dust which had collected on her jacket. "You just surprised me, that's all!"
Vegeta stalked past her. "Oh, really?"
Bulma grumbled under her breath, not accepting defeat lightly. However, she halted in her raving to eye the small, sixth star Dragon Ball which he now held in his left hand, the Radar in his other. "Where'd you find it?"
Vegeta blinked at the question, amazed by how quickly the girl's mood had changed. Haughtily he tossed the Ball into the air a few times, eyeing it with affection. "Heh. Found it housed within the belly of quite a large snake." He caught the Ball suddenly and held it steady as he turned to Bulma, snickering when seeing her grimace of disgust.
This was not good. Already it'd been one day, and he'd gotten hold of two of theDragon Balls. At this rate, he was bound to have caught them all before she even had a chance to steal back the Radar.
She had to convince him to call it a day; it was really the only chance she had.
With new determination the scientist forced her eyes to droop, and her form to slouch. "Can we just call it a day now, please?"
Amusement was gone as Vegeta snapped to her in disapproval. "What? Why?"
What does he mean, "Why?" Bulma's glare hardened. "Because I'm tired!"
Vegeta remained obstinate.
"Think about it," the girl whined, bringing her balled fists to her chest in melodrama, "do you really want me to slow you down from fatigue?"
Nothing.
"I just want some sleep! That's all I ask—,"
"Okay! Okay!" the Saiyan blurted suddenly, this time the one who had to face defeat. "Good Gods, I can't stand your high-pitched whining! If it'll shut you up."
"Oh, it will! It will!" Bulma pranced with glee.
Vegeta gave a small "hmph" before turning back to the Dragon Ball in his palm. Just looking at those captivating stars made his blood begin to rush with anticipation. What would happen when he granted his wish? What task would he see to first? He supposed he could first take his rightful throne as King, which would mean ridding of his father. Or perhaps send that impudent, stuck up lizard, Frieza, into black oblivion where he belonged. Vegeta gave a sudden, dry laugh. Well, there was no rush; after all, he was going to have the rest of eternity to conquer the universe at whatever pace he desired.
The soon-to-be-ruler lost his train of thought as a familiar voice reached his ears.
"Okay," the woman drawled as she gave an enormous yawn. "But before I go to bed, I think I'm gonna have to take another bath."
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A/N: sry for the wait, and on this chap I had some MAJOR writer's block. And it's weird cuz I only had it on this story. On my other B/V, I'm doin' just fine, so I found that very odd. Well, anywho, I think y'all know the routine by now, right? 9 REVIEWS PLEASE! (85)
To Kimee/Newsoleil(anonymous reviewer): hey, hast du meine Email bekommen! Ich habe dir eine Email geshickt, aber weiß nicht ob du sie bekommen hast. Sag mir bitte! Mein Postfach funktioniert nicht sehr gut.