Dawn: Konichiwa! That's all… With all the waiting and waiting I've put you through, you deserve to go ahead and read.
Disclaimer: I own the poem "When the Weather Changed", but nothing else. Dratz. The late great Akira Toriyama owns DBZ and its characters.
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Melting a Winter Heart
Chapter Seven: When the Weather Changed
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The raindrops drummed on the curved windows, joining each other to skate down the glass. Outside, the entire atmosphere seemed to be colored blue-black with the storm. Vegeta gazed steadily out the glass, his perpetual scowl on. He usually liked storms, when they were wild and dark. Why did it have to rain now, during his training time? Bulma said she had found a way to make it more weather-resistant, but he hadn't seen her enter the lab, or exit her room for the past two days. Reminded of her previous quarrels about him electrocuting himself, he once again conceded to waiting out a storm.
Sigh.
Vegeta ground his teeth and growled. That was the third sigh coming from her room in the last five minutes! Bad break-up or not, he couldn't STAND her whining. It was beneath her either way.
"Onna! Will you stop that pitiful WHINING? You're driving me insane!"
No answer. Vegeta frowned. Normally, that would have pissed off the short-fused Chikyuu-jin and sent her after him. Silence from that woman could NOT be good.
Then the prince got his answer, and it nearly made him snap.
Sigh.
With a flurry of sputtering curses and snarls, he stalked purposefully toward the onna's room. When he reached the door he raised his fist to give it a good pounding.
"Come on in Vegeta."
Her melancholy voice stopped his knock a second before his fist hit the door. Freezing in mid-air, Vegeta frowned at the door. How had she known he was coming? He didn't really wish to ponder this, only to get her to stop sulking. He grasped the knob and turned it, opening the door.
The sight that met his eyes puzzled him to no end.
Bulma sat at her desk, which wasn't an unusual sight. She was always bent over some kind of new problem or theory trying to pick it apart and make it work. But this time, she looked different. Usually he found her leaning intently over the papers with that "I'm-a-genius-don't-bother-bothering-me" look in her eyes. Instead, she was leaning her chin into her left hand, tangling her fingers into her long turquoise hair. It was then he saw what she was wearing. The short white silk robe he saw her wearing the night before. He was just exiting the GR when he looked up to the house. She'd been standing on her balcony, leaning on her folded arms, her tear-filled eyes to the sky. His sharp eyes caught the reflection of the stars in them and he remembered how the tiny robe glowed almost blue in the moonlight.
He shook himself to regain his composure. Now was not the time. He folded his arms over his chest and scowled at her.
"What the hell is the matter with you?" he demanded. "For the last two days you've been sitting in this room sulking and whining! If you have any time at all, it should be spent upgrading this piece of junk!" Thus saying, he tossed the capsulated GR to her. It bounced off of her shoulder and silently hit the floor. She didn't say a word. She didn't flinch or even raise her head. Now Vegeta was really disturbed. This wasn't her normal "pity party" as it was called on this planet.
Finally Bulma turned her head and looked at him. Vegeta almost stepped back in alarm. Her face, always fashionably pale, was white and drawn, as if she hadn't slept for days. Her eyes had lost their fire and now resembled dull blue discs of plastic. Vegeta's scowl softened involuntarily. He'd never seen the onna so miserable and pathetic looking. Her pink lips shivered almost imperceptibly.
Almost.
"I'm sorry Vegeta. I just got…sidetracked," she sighed, leaning down to pick up the capsule. She placed it in her pocket and faced him again. "I'll get to it as soon as I can."
In the silence that followed her reply, Vegeta was certain he could've heard the tiniest pin on the planet fall on the carpet. He'd fully expected her to snap at him and rise up to fight with him. Never in all the months he'd known this Chikyuu-jin had she ever been this docile. He might never admit it, but her response, or lack of one, actually scared him a little. When he saw her blue eyes blazing and her supple cheeks apple red with anger, those were the times he truly admired her.
Not now, his mind chastised. He shook his head and tried to glare at her again. "Well, good. See that you do." He turned to go but some invisible force stayed his steps. He looked over his shoulder at her again. She had turned back to the paper she'd been scribbling on. He saw that she'd scratched out much of what she'd written, but there was still a large portion of readable script. Giving into his mild curiosity, he inched closer to her. Craning his neck to look over her shoulder, he stole a look at what she'd written.
When the Weather Changed
Slowly, Bulma slid her hand over the paper and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes, though still clouded, now showed a tiny spark of annoyance. Vegeta smiled inwardly. The onna never could fully hide her emotions.
"Curiosity killed the cat Vegeta," she said, her voice low, hoarse and sad. A shudder passed through the prince's body, but whether in uneasiness from her tone or in the wake of how her voice just sounded he couldn't tell.
"I'm no cat onna. I just would like to know what is so important that the blasted capsule is still in your pocket. What in Kami's name is your problem today?" he demanded, doing his best not to show how incredibly baffled and disappointed he was at her lack of fire.
Bulma didn't say a word and all annoyance disappeared from her eyes. Vegeta paled when nothing replaced the emotion in those blue eyes. They moved away from him and looked out the window. Vegeta followed her gaze. The darkness in the sky had deepened since he last checked and the rain pelting the windows sounded like pebbles on concrete. He glanced back at Bulma and was relieved when he saw her face relax into sadness. Not the emotion he was looking for, but it was better than nothing, he knew that.
"The rain," she murmured, her voice soft and deep. "Sometimes it gives me the blues. It's been like this all day."
"You or the rain?" he asked, smiling smugly when he thought of how his sarcasm made her beautiful eyes ignite.
She turned her eyes away from the gloom outside the glass panes and back to his. He felt the blood drain from his face.
Nothing. Just empty, fathomless blue.
"Both," she intoned and the Saiya-jin prince felt his heart drop like a stone. "I know I should be working, but I…I can't get started." She let free another sigh and turned to her paper.
"So you're doing what? Sitting there scribbling nonsense?" He asked, forcing a smirk. That was the ticket, insulting her hobbies. That would surely get a rise out of her.
"Yeah. Yeah I guess so," she said dully, flicking her pen aside. She didn't see the look of utter shock on Vegeta's face. If she were in a better state of mind, no doubt she would've jumped for joy at actually shocking the proud prince.
Then a feeling of helplessness seized him and he stepped forward. Things were not right and he needed to find out why. "Onna, there is no way that a stupid change in the weather could make you act like this. Now spill it. What's this really about?"
A shiver passed through her body and she pulled her legs into her chest. "Nothing."
Vegeta's patience began to fray as he heard the stifling amount of self-pity in her voice. It was then that he noticed an untouched sandwich sitting on a paper towel on the desk. The lettuce had wilted sadly and from where he was, Vegeta could smell how stale the bread had gotten. He eyed her seriously. "Bull. I don't buy that onna. I refuse to leave this room until you tell me what's wrong."
"What do you think is wrong Vegeta?"
"How the hell would I know? I'm asking you!" All at once, he grabbed her chair, swiveling it around to face him. She didn't startle or gasp which only served to anger him further. His hands landed on her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. He shook her as gently as he could. With how angry he felt at the moment he could easily hurt her. "Don't do this to me onna! I don't scare easy, but seeing you like this…you are not yourself! You haven't slept, or eaten, or left this Kami-forsaken room for two days! If this is about that stupid ex of yours, he's not worth this! Look what he's done! The Bulma I know isn't this dumb docile creature sitting here! She wouldn't let anyone or anything do this to her! Now come on!" He growled, shaking her again. "I want some kind of response from you! Yell at me, bitch at me, hell you can CRY for all I care! If you're mad at me FINE! You want to hit me, HIT ME! DO SOMETHING!" He didn't notice his voice getting shaky, but he felt the stinging behind his black eyes. No, no, no! He wouldn't cry in front of her!
For a moment, it seemed that he was actually getting through to her. Her blue eyes gave a spark for a split second, then she let her head drop limply onto her chest.
Silence.
He eyed her steadily. He felt her drawing into herself again. Finally, a shiver passed through her again and she looked up at him. Vegeta felt his heart skip. Her eyes had glossed over, the purest sadness he could fathom deepening their cerulean hue. He could've drowned in them at that moment, but her loud sob interrupted him. Before he could form another thought, she'd thrown herself into him, weeping loudly. His utter surprise caught him off balance and they both fell to the floor. Her silk-clad arms twined around his trim waist and squeezed tightly, nearly enough to hurt. Hesitantly, he put his arms around her, totally at a loss at how to comfort anyone. He was inwardly glad she was sobbing so loudly so she couldn't hear the rapid pounding of his heart.
"Why! Why, why, WHY did this happen!" She screamed, loudly enough to make Vegeta's sensitive ears ring. He didn't care. "I loved him and he betrayed me! How could he? How could he!" She squeezed him tighter, pinching his tough skin and hard muscle. He didn't care. "And... How could I? Look what I've done! I'm so stupid! It's all my fault!"
Now he cared.
"Stop it!" He growled, pulling her to her feet. He looked fiercely into her now overflowing eyes. She was scared, sorrowful, surprised, but completely silent aside from her hitching sobs. "Never let me hear you say that again! You are not stupid and you are not at fault here! The stupid one is that scar-faced, waste of oxygen who cheated on you! That idiot used your trust to seek his own pleasure! I told you he didn't deserve you, and I hold to that!" He was so incensed that he didn't notice how hard he was gripping her arms. Finally she let out a cry and pried herself loose of his hands.
"Oh yes! Rub it in! You were right, oh mighty prince!" She sneered, tears still dripping down her cheeks. "Well, go ahead! Gloat away! You've proven how all-knowing you are and shamed the poor stupid Chikyuu-jin!"
"I told you not to say that again! And this isn't about who was right!" He yelled back, wondering how this "comfort session" had turned into a fight. "I'm not about to shame you or laugh at you! I was trying to help!"
"How? By showing me what a big fuck up I am! Why did you have to tell me anyway? I was happy with Yamcha!" She screamed, throwing a pillow at him. He caught it again, but there was no playfulness in his face this time. He stared at her, disbelieving what she'd said.
"You would rather have not known? You would've had me not tell you, and then walked in on them anyway?" Silence from Bulma. "Onna, you would've found out eventually, and it would've hurt a hell of a lot more." Vegeta gazed at her, taking in the wreck the weakling had made his fiery-spirited onna into. His clenched fists began to shake with fury. "Kami, look at you! I just want to kill him for what he did!"
Bulma flew at him and grabbed his collar in both hands. "Don't you dare Vegeta! If you hurt him I'll...I...never mind!" At a loss, she shoved him away and turned her back on him. "You don't understand and you don't care!"
"Don't be ridiculous! Why do you think I'm here?" He didn't let her get far and stepped forward, placing his hands gently on her shoulders. "But as for not understanding, you're right. I don't see why you're so bent on defending him after what he did!"
"Because he thought...he thought…I had cheated on him," she muttered, dropping her head.
"Had you?" he asked, knowing the answer already. He'd have smelled another man's scent on her if she had. No, Bulma didn't have it in her to cheat.
"No, but-"
"No 'buts' then. It doesn't matter what he thought. He didn't have the honor, or the balls for that matter, to confront you about his suspicions, and that makes him the fuck up."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked. He was about to answer her when she whirled to face him, her eyes blazing into his. "WHY!" She screamed, angry once again. "Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? He might've come to me himself if you'd given him time!" All at once, she began pounding her fists on Vegeta's rock hard chest. "Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT!" Vegeta would never admit it, but he could feel some pain. Not his own; it was her heartache and he could feel with every hit to his chest. He was actually surprised that she was that strong.
Her attacks became wilder and he heard one of her hands connect with her face, leaving a light red welt on her cheek. "All right, that's enough!" He ordered, trying to grab her hands as she flailed them about. "Stop it! STOP! Stubborn onna you're going to hurt yourself!" He shouted as he finally got a grip on her hands.
"Let go! Let go of me!" She screamed struggling to break free. Vegeta held firm.
"No! I'm not about to let you do this to yourself!"
"What do you care! You don't care!"
"I care!" Vegeta yelled, pulling her hands to his sides to avoid her strikes. This move caused her to lurch forward and lean against his chest.
Bulma stared at him, the angry fire in her eyes disappearing rapidly. Did she just hear him right? She expected him to run, but he just loosened his grip on her hands, barely holding her fingertips in his.
"I care onna. And don't ask me why, because I don't know. And don't read it the wrong way either; you've been through enough. Please believe me, I never, ever wanted to see you like this… And I never want to see this again… He hurt you… don't hurt yourself over this."
Bulma looked deeply into his eyes, trying to find something, anything that she could hold onto. Then she saw, deep in the recesses of his black eyes, a level of concern that she never expected from the Saiya-jin prince.
"I...he...I just...I'm alone. I feel so alone," she whispered brokenly, putting her face into her hands, not caring that she was crying so openly in front of him.
Vegeta watched her cry, not caring about the barriers her tears were steadily breaking. In the many months he'd lived with her, he'd grown quite protective of her. He wouldn't let her wallow like this because of some idiot Chikyuu-jin fop who broke her heart. A heart that he felt never deserved that kind of treatment.
Gently, he moved his hands up to her and drew them away from her face. Her fingers naturally curled around his for a moment and she made no move to protest. Almost tenderly, he replaced her hands with his own, turning her face to look at him. She gazed into his eyes, letting him see her pain. Raw and candid as it was, he didn't shy away. Whatever his princely pride would get in the way of, it would not stop him from helping this now fragile woman become strong once again.
"You are not alone Bulma," was all he said. He drew her closer to him, letting his arms fold around her. He waited for her response.
For a moment, she just stood still, willing her barriers to come up again. They wouldn't. She sniffled and leaned further into him, crying softly. Giving in at last to a past urge, Vegeta brought one hand up to the mane of blue hair and began stroking through it gingerly. Silk. It was like silk. Just as he always imagined.
For the first time since the break-up, Bulma felt the silence wasn't stifling anymore. He was there...for her. In a hundred years, she would never have expected this from Vegeta. She wondered if...but now wasn't the time. At last, she was in his arms; a want she knew was always there was now fulfilled. Of course this was an entirely different scenario, but it didn't matter. They were his arms, the cords of steely muscle relaxed into a warm strong embrace. His fingers were combing through her hair, like she had dreamed he would. She let him hold her for long minutes, reveling in this possibly once-in-a-lifetime moment.
Finally, she pulled away and looked at the floor. Vegeta sensed no retreat and looked at her, the locks of pearly aqua falling softly over her shoulders. His hands tingled as he remembered their softness moments ago.
"Vegeta..."
"Yes?"
She looked up at him and wiped her eyes. A shy smile appeared on her lips. "I'm hungry."
Vegeta dropped his head and chuckled heartily. Bulma gave him a mock glare, but waited until his laughter had subsided. "Onna, that's usually my line," he said with a rakish grin. Bulma snorted and shook her head.
"Well I am," she defended, sitting gracelessly on the bed, her arms crossed over her chest. "As you pointed out, I haven't eaten for a while."
Vegeta looked at her, eyes traveling all over her face. Her cheeks had their color again and her eyes twinkled with the smile that hid behind her pout.
"And you'll eat?" he asked seriously, jerking his head at the uneaten sandwich. She smiled sheepishly and nodded. "And sleep?" She nodded again, feeling the tiredness in her body for the first time in days. "Good." Without another word, he swept out of the room.
As he walked through the hallway, he replayed the many "moments" in that room. Moments that he was sure his pride would berate him for tomorrow. Moments where all those foreign feelings began to stir again and intensify. However, he pushed those thoughts into the very large "Ponder Later" pile in his head. He'd reached the kitchen, so he set to work on putting something together for her. Normally this would seem beneath him, but it felt natural to care for her. Because he did. He still didn't quite know the extent of what he felt for her though.
One more for the "Ponder Later" pile, he thought. Finished with the sandwich and a small pile of salad, he put them on a tray with a glass of water. Walking back, he hoped he wouldn't find her in another slump. He opened the door.
Well, it was a slump, but not the kind he had feared. Bulma, sound asleep, her head resting on the paper she'd been writing on, pen still clutched in her hand on the desk. Stifling a laugh at the obviously uncomfortable position, he set the tray down and went to her, gently extricating the pen from her grip. Without effort, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. She smiled and gave a soft peaceful moan as he draped the comforter over her, shifting further into the warm softness. Vegeta let his eyes stay on her sleeping form for many minutes before he let free a soft chuckle and picked up the sandwich from the tray.
"Shame to waste," he said to himself before taking a large bite out of it. It was then that he saw the lines of verse hastily scribbled onto the paper. Setting the sandwich down again, he picked up the paper and let his eyes take in the words.
He about choked on the mouthful of bread and meat.
I could feel the breeze
Wafting the warmth of the day
The day you came into my life
Sweet as summer fields
But I was there when the weather changed
And the sun played hide-and-seek
And the sky boiled in coal black shrouds
Shedding its cloak of baby blue
And again the breeze blew
And I felt the chill of the storm
You walked in, then you walked out
And left me to weep the rain
Again I was there when the weather changed
When a true sun melted the cold night
He took my hand, turned my face to the sky
To see the sunrise blush as deep as I
Once more the breeze blew
And the sun shone in my heart
Now memories of pain vanish like mist
And if I weep, I weep not for you
--To the boy who broke my heart, and the man who picked up the pieces.
Vegeta's heart did a double skip and he let the paper float down onto the desk. He turned his head to look at the sleeping woman who'd penned those words and something in him began to pulse with panic. Quickly he exited the room and closed the door behind him. Once alone, he began to breathe heavily and quickly.
What was happening? She cared…and he cared…but he knew this went beyond merely caring for her well-being. What was it then? Dammit, he wished he knew just what was going on with himself; with the way he was feeling right now.
Reluctantly, Vegeta knew he had to find out now if he ever hoped to focus on his training. And he only knew of one person who could, or would help him.
Kami, he never thought he'd get this low before. With a groan of frustration, he exited the compound and blasted off into the stormy night.
Well, there ya go! If Veggie seemed OOC, tough, cuz I think he might've done that.
For those who wonder, Bulma was not really that torn up about Yamcha, she was really upset because she felt like she'd been unfaithful in a relationship. No, I don't think Bulma would've been so upset if it was JUST Yamcha, she'd be spittin' nails!
Whom will Vegeta go to for help? Will he find the answers he needs? Will Yamcha survive this story? Find out all that and more...uh, soon! Very soon!