Winning the Love of the Handsome Skater

Chapter Twenty-Three: Tears of a Warrior

For a decent ten minutes gap nothing else but Vegeta's intermittent breathing could be heard in the still room, where discomfort seemed to condensate profusely in the air. Bulma had no idea what to say while her boyfriend was still in a fit of self-bashing for blowing up at her that way. He shouldn't have said anything to provoke further questions… If there had been hope for him slipping out of this without having to answer all your nosy inquiries that hope was now completely gone and out of his hand's grasp…

Finally coming out of her temporary stupor, Bulma blinked her clouding confusion away and took a better look at her boyfriend, who was now just sitting on the floor with one knee bent and an extended other foot, intently avoiding her gaze.

"All those things… they happened to you?" It was a lame question to ask with a more than obvious answer, but she had no idea what else to say… And she didn't even know half of it! And exactly because her inquiry was more of a rhetorical one, it was not honoured with a retort. The onyx orbs just bore into the worn out carpet, the covering of the floor damaged from all of his high school late arrivals and departures, always in a hurry for something, dragging his feet against the floor as he had walked in and out of his room…

As time stretched on and both still refused to say anything, Bulma felt her chest heavy. The look Vegeta was giving his carpet was a mix of shame, humiliation, anger and self-loathe. She had no idea why he was so fed up and why he was ashamed. All those things… they weren't his fault. She had no idea what he felt on the topic, how he coped with all those things… As far as she understood, as well as previous interrogations on the matter, she figured he had been an orphan and taking care of himself ever since he could think properly… She had no idea of the details, but from what he had just said… things had been really ugly his entire life…

"Vegeta," she began, hoping he would turn his full attention to her. She couldn't read his emotions on the matter if he didn't look at her directly. It was very important to her that he would finally trust in their relationship fully…

It was half a decade too early for such thoughts, but she couldn't think of her life without him in it. It didn't matter where he would go to study for University – she would go there with him. Even if it was the tiniest town on Earth which by some ironic joke of fate had a University, she'd go there with him, just because she wouldn't be able to live without him. Through all those months, during their entire relationship, she had come in possession of the knowledge how unique he actually was, to a point of slight femininity in his mind's complex structure. No man was as thoughtful as he was, as careful about his actions as he was, or as understanding as he was, even though Vegeta wasn't a person to freely allow himself to be exposed as all those. He chose his friends and foes with a precision to be envied for, he appeared proud and cocky to everyone, distrusting and non-caring, but in all actuality, if he allowed you to become a true friend of his, you'd find out how affectionate he could be if he wanted to. That is, of course, as affectionate and compassionate as Vegeta could get…

He never let outsiders badmouth his friends and he most certainly never let anyone pick physically on his close ones. He didn't show any emotion, tried to push everyone away, yet those who were still next to him after such a test he accepted truly. Yet he proved that no one, absolutely no one, after Rain and Hailie's betrayal, was worthy of his trust in its whole entirety.

"Vegeta, look at me." This time her voice was sterner with determination. He didn't comply, which didn't help her tight frown any. "Please, Vegeta, why won't you trust in me? Did I not already prove myself trustworthy to you? Haven't I done enough to deserve your trust?" She sat next to him and her eye brows tilted up as if in physical pain when he inched away from her. "Don't you care about us anymore, Vegeta?" He released a very heavy sigh at that question, exhausted with the topic already. Why wouldn't she just leave him be and just get out of his apartment? Though he realized that she was right… If he kept avoiding her that way, they would surely fall apart in a month's time…

"It is not a matter of trust or care, Bulma…" he moaned out, rubbing his bloodshot eyes, strained from not getting even a wink of sleep in days' time. "How can I make you understand those are things I'm not proud of and I would like to forget? Do you think it will be any help if I relive them when telling them to you? How is that to get me back in track?" He glared heatedly at her, as if she was the one guilty for all the things that had happened to him in his lifespan. But she didn't mind being blamed for it, even though they would both realize all the same that she couldn't possibly be the one guilty for all those things… She wanted to make him feel better, yet had no idea how to do it. But comprehension came with knowledge and if she knew nothing, how was she supposed to comprehend his situation?

"You will feel better if you tell me," she said softly, scowling at the skeptical loud snort on his behalf that followed her words.

"This is not some girlish secret that once shared makes you feel a better person, woman, get that through your thick skull." He rolled his eyes after he said that in annoyance. She would never understand such matters and he sincerely hoped that she didn't… He'd never wish for her to have similar experiences in her entire life time. It would irreversibly change her the way it had changed him… All those things, one after the other, transformed him into something entirely different from what his mother intended him to become… His mother… His teeth gritted at the thought but he shunned it out of his mind. Now wasn't the time to melt at the thought of "fond" memories…

Bulma looked away, unsure of how to persuade him into spilling the precious information. How could she coax someone completely immobile once a decision was made on his behalf to go against that decision? What could she possibly say that would make him believe her enough, or… She wasn't sure what he wanted her to do so he told her! He said he believed her; that he cared for her, and nevertheless refused to share information of his past with her… Why? She had to know…

"Why are you so hesitant in telling me these things if you really trust me? Why are you clamming up on me when you actually think about those things for months straight and you let them eat on your psyche so badly you won't even look at me? Why do you think I would be of absolutely no help to your case? Please, Vegeta, tell me why," she all but begged. He threw her a menacing glare again.

"You're giving me ultimatums, you patronize me and then you dare ask why I won't tell you? Besides, it is none of your business!" Usually, conversations—even just between the two of them—ended with the last phrase, but this time proved to be different as Bulma refused to give up so easily.

"I am not patronizing you and I am not giving you ultimatums! And have I ever not agreed with you that it is none of business? And do you know what made it my business? I believe it was the fact you suddenly blew me off, refusing to look at me in the eye, not to mention talking to me, or—God forbid!—coming in any kind of physical contact with me. Will you stop behaving that way if I leave now?" When he didn't answer her she heaved a very heavy sigh, burying her face in her hands before continuing. Persuading had never been a more difficult task as she had on her hands someone who was stubbornly stuck between a child and a teenager… "Vegeta, how can I make you understand that the only thing you will manage by acting this way is alienate yourself from everyone?"

"Stop talking to me as if I'm a retarded kid…" he murmured angrily, his glare fixed at the door to his room, as if willing her out of it the same instant he did so. Why wouldn't she rest her case and just let go of the topic…

"If you want me to leave so badly," she stood up, never breaking eye contact with the side of his profile in the process, "then I will do so. But it may also be a good-bye with the pace you're keeping…" He growled malignantly.

"And how do you call that? It is what I call an ultimatum, don't you agree?" She grabbed her head with both her hands in defeat and despair. In the next moment, she was sitting on her bent knees next to him again, her face twisted in an odd manner in her desperation.

"Vegeta, why wouldn't you listen to me? You keep saying the same thing over and over again; you aren't even looking at me!" She shrieked but to no avail. His gaze was still fixed on the door, as if it was far more intriguing than the conversation—or rather his girlfriend's monologue—at hand. "Why won't you understand this – I am not your enemy! I just want to help you, or at least be with you and know that you are not in some terrible mental turmoil while I'm enjoying myself! It's how people feel when they truly love someone!"

"I don't want your opinion or attitude towards me to change," he stated, trying to ignore the nagging at the back of his head and the vice that had tightened around his chest at her last words, as they seemed to stir something deep inside of him…

"They won't! I never said they were—"

"I don't need your pity and I don't need you hearing about all the atrocities that my life before you has been." He closed his eyes, as if trying to force out something rather insistent that wouldn't let go of his mind. "I prefer the dreadful rumors to stay the way they are – things that you label false immediately after you hear and don't muse any more over. I don't want that to change… I don't want my new life to change… I can't keep moving every time…"

"You're right, you can't keep moving every time you encounter hardship," she agreed with a determined expression on her soft features.

"What do you know of hardship, woman…? You've never been put in such situations before; you've had everything you needed served to you on a silver platter…"

"And it annoys you that someone like me has had an easier life than you did? You're wondering with what exactly I'm a better person than you to have deserved a better existence than yours on this world?" she asked inquiringly, her eyes scanning his features for any change in his expression after the questions were made.

"I have never said such a thing… Don't paraphrase me however you please…" He glared daggers at the wall again, trying to filter some of his anger away before it rose to dramatic points again, steering out of his control. She sighed.

"Fine, Vegeta… Don't tell me anything. I'll leave you be. Clam up on me all you want; stop eating if that makes you feel better; refuse any help and estrange yourself from people if it makes you feel a better person. I can no longer persuade you into this… I have no idea how to make it clear enough to you without giving you ultimatums, patronizing you or offending you in some way. I'll just write it off as "you're too complicated for me to comprehend" and give it no more thought. Do as you like. You know where you can find me in case you change your opinion and you know I will never shut my door on you—" Her rant was interrupted by his eerily quiet and calm voice.

"I don't want you thinking of me as a monster too…" There was a deafening pause. When he didn't continue and the thought finally sunk in, Bulma's brows tilted up again as she finally understood why he was so hesitant to talk to her.

"Oh, honey…" She trailed off as she sat next to him, and hugged him by his waist, her body close to his. He was no longer the warm Vegeta whose body heat comforted her entire being… His hands were freezing, his neck was remotely warm and his face was cold… She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing all bad thoughts out of her mind. He was going to be fine, he was always fine! He would get over this—no! They would get over this, together, as should be. "I've seen you in your worst days – nothing can drive me away if that can't…" She had her fingers crossed for an involuntary laugh from him but was disappointed as she received nothing. He was just staring in space, not returning her gentle embrace, yet not pushing her away either.

They stood like that for a long time, just thinking and reacquainting themselves with the other's company. At her touch, Vegeta finally resurfaced some from all the guilt and pain of the recent days, finding a small part of himself again… and finding out that this part of him missed her dearly. He had missed her presence, her soothing aura and her insistent nature so much… He had missed how she cared so much for him that she could go on arguing for hours on end over something that concerned him… She wanted—he could clearly see it in her eyes and feel it at her touch—to be of some help… if even just to be allowed to be there next to him… She had practically proclaimed her love for him earlier in her speech! And she refused to leave… He was touched… He was so very touched by her attention, by her compassion and her feelings towards him, so powerful and determined, so pure… How could he say no to her and reject all her well-intended actions? How could he reject her and sadden her? How could he go on with his life without anyone next to him, as he too was certain that he would be all alone if she waltzed out that door in anger…

But would she really not change her mind if he told her everything—everything—about himself? Even though she had promised so, he wouldn't be able to bear it if she pitied him afterwards, or acted as if he was something fragile that could break at any second… Well, there was only one way to find that out.

He sighed heavily, as if just completing a strenuous physical work.

"I was an only child to my parents, and I actually doubt my father ever wanted me…" He began and she was thankful for her position next to him in an angle that he couldn't possibly see the triumphant look on her features right after he started, even though with the second part of the sentence it melted down completely. "When I was little I never really saw much of him. Not that I missed him much. All he ever did when he was actually around was glare at me as if it was my fault his life was fucked. Expecting a compliment from him like other fathers compliment their sons when they do something exceptional that other kids their age can't do was preposterous – the man didn't care about anyone other than himself."

Bulma decided against interrupting him, knowing that his garrulousness would be gone in the snap of your fingers if she intervened, so she just chose to listen and hoped that she would be able to catch on whether his father had married his mother in a spur of the moment or they have been in love when they got married… Not that it had much relevance but she was just curious.

"I was thankful that he spent as less time as possible at home, making money in all ways that fitted in his capabilities to support our family. He never complained and rarely spoke; he wasn't interested in me or my mother as long as everything at work went well and no one spoke badly of our family… but he was still displeased with me, with my very existence… I knew exactly why." Vegeta's eyes narrowed menacingly at the remembrance. "He had always thought of me as a freak of nature because of my tail that my mother refused to let him cut, saying that it would cut my connection with people completely… I had no clue at the time—and I still don't—how exactly removing something that was completely useless in our human society would separate me from people, but I had no say in the matter…

"And so my mother tried teaching me all sorts of things… She enjoyed maths; she loved taking walks with me out in the park, and telling me stories of kidnapped Princes from their parents in attempts of saving the royal heir from evil tyrants and when they finally return they triumph over the threat to their parents and there was always a happy end to her stories, with the Prince becoming a wise King and all his people adoring him dearly… She even used to call me her little prince when I was little…" He closed his eyes again at the memory, forcing back all the dread that rose in him as he knew how he had to continue… Bulma smiled fondly at the information. Vegeta's mother sure sounded like a terrific person, a woman worthy of admiration…

"Once I turned seven and going to school—no longer under my mother's wing as I had passed most of my kindergarten years under her tuition—things started to get ugly…" He made a brief pause, trying to compose his thoughts in the proper chronological line. "I believe it began with the fact kids made fun of me once they figured out about my tail. And, before you ask, yes – there were people who knew… I can't control it now, imagine what it was to try to gain control over it when I actually had no such over my feet's functioning to begin with at that time… What was worse was my father taking up drinking way too much, coming home drunk and yelling at both my mother and I, claiming us demons and monsters…" His eyes squinted for a millisecond in disgust. "He upset her occasionally, never excused himself for his actions and words, not to mention making up for them… He yelled at her as if she was the reason the world was foul and unattractive…" His teeth gritted together.

"If it was yelling the only thing he did, all would've been fine and dandy. Yet we had no such luck… Soon he started beating up my mother and if he hadn't ventilated his anger enough or I tried to protect her from his heavy hand, he would beat me up too… When we started writing a lot in school and I tried using my left hand instead of my right, and eventually found out I was left-handed, he went in frenzy. No son of his was going to be left-handed, he had claimed."

How was that his say, Bulma couldn't help wondering.

"So, displeased with my disobedience when he made me promise not to use it for writing, he dislocated my shoulder and elbow, making it useless for a very long period." Bulma was yet again very thankful he couldn't see her expressions. Her lower jaw had hung widely open at that. He was kidding, right? No father would do such a thing to his son! To a child of seven no less! That was, that was… just inhumane! "The healing took less time than he expected which only served to anger him more.

"After that I tried my best to keep him pleased, to refrain from enraging him any more… But he was a hard man to please… Maybe he just enjoyed the screams she released when he raped her… Maybe he enjoyed seeing my infantile body sprawled at his feet when his hand hit me hard… Maybe he was a megalomaniac, a fanatic of some sort… I could never know, and I could care less. All I knew was that by third grade I hated his guts. I stored feelings a child my age shouldn't even know of; they were things my mother forbid me to feel, even though she was one who suffered more, mistreated by the man who supposedly loved her…" Vegeta made an expression wrenched in disgust at that. "Some love it was… It was clear that he had no control over his own actions or emotions. And one day he would just cross the line…

"But it happened a lot sooner than I expected it to. One night he was so pissed with getting fired at he nearly tore my mother's insides apart after forcing her into bed. She was screaming so loudly…" He closed his eyes tightly, squeezing hard as if it would help him force the remembrances out of his mind's eye. "She was calling me, she wanted me to run away and stay at Kakarott's—as she called him—who was my only friend from kindergarten in my class. I didn't listen… I wanted to stay and help her… I was afraid what would happen to her, I was afraid I would lose her. My presence served as a distraction to her and she couldn't avoid my father's elbow connecting with her neck…

"The last thing her eyes saw was probably my horrified expression at her bloodied lower body, her clothes only rags clinging to her body in vain… He had hit her vital point… and had knocked her out in a land she would never return from." Bulma bit her lip, which threatened with quivering. He had seen his mother die… and he had been so young! He had loved her more than anyone… and he had her ripped out of her grasp at such an early stage in his life… Life wasn't fair… It was truly a bitch… "He cornered me next, knowing I was an eye witness and he had to shut me up as well… He threw me at a wall, slamming his huge foot in my stomach but I couldn't feel anything. My whole body was numb with stupor. It was my fault she was dead, a voice in the back of my childish mind said. I could call "mama", "mama" all I wished, she wouldn't budge from the uncharacteristic position on the floor… She'd stay frozen that way because she couldn't call me her little prince anymore, she couldn't compliment me or teach me anymore… because she wasn't alive anymore… And it had all been my fault…

"When I looked up towards my father, it was the first time I noticed the fullness of the moon that night… It was so bright and blinding, utterly fascinating with its yellowish-white rays, shining upon my beautiful mother's corpse on the floor. She had died to save me, she had given her life for me… and now he had the chance of taking that as well… I couldn't have that. I was a boy and boys don't cry, he had said to make me realize that tears were falling down my cheeks." Bulma squirmed next to him at the information, her heart clenching in a tight knot at the information. "And in the exact moment, all I could hear was my own heartbeat… So loud and rhythmical… pulsing with the life the woman lying dead on the floor had given me… a life that the asshole didn't appreciate, her life which he cared none about and murdered her without even looking back at her. I couldn't comprehend how he had murdered her without even blinking at the realization she was no more. Regardless his feelings towards her, she was still a human being and homicide was forbidden by law! I could care less whether he was drunk or not… He had killed the only person that cared for me!

"That's when I snapped. I don't even remember well what happened afterwards… I think I went in the same rampage as all those days ago when your ex's cronies drugged me…" Bulma bit her lip again and tightened her hold on his waist at the mentioning. He didn't indicate to have felt anything. "When I came to, what was before me was a bloodbath. Crimson liquid bespattered all over the white walls, the corpses on the floor now increased by one – my father's body had joined mother's in a twisted kind of murderer's work…" Bulma's eyes were wide. He wasn't saying what she thought he was… was he? "The police couldn't find any clues, prints or anything… It seemed as if my father had done all of this to himself or something… They rested their case, but I knew who had done it… On some subconscious level, the content that I felt when seeing him lying there didn't seem exactly right…

"Over the years I tried to become used to the idea that I was a murderer, even though in my most fragile of ages I assured myself that it hadn't been my fault. He had provoked me, he had killed her… I had to avenge my mother. I had only done the logical thing… but murder can't be logical… no crime can be a logical choice… I was aware afterwards… But it still grew heavy on me, no matter the self-convincing I did. I was a monster, a murderer… I was unworthy of love, compassion or affection of any sort. I had killed a man, my own blood relative no less, therefore I wasn't someone who deserved to be loved or cared for. I was positive I should rot in hell for all I had done that night, but people ignorant of the situation didn't think so.

"When the police told me of orphanage because I had no other relatives, I refused to hear any of it. When they tried to drag me, Kakarott's grandfather stopped them and told them he would take custody of me the same way he had accepted another boy in his life – namely, Kakarott. After the tragedy with my family and screwing up my mind completely with insane mutterings of how foul of a creature I was, Gohan revealed to me that Kakarott was also parentless and had the same tail I did. I swear that old hag had a way with fucked up children if he even managed to pull me out of the hole I was digging in my mind to just curl in a ball into and die… He assured me that everything that I had done wasn't my fault; that everyone deserved forgiveness like God says… but if everyone deserved forgiveness why was I not forgiven through my entire life? Why did Hell exist if everyone got forgiven?

"The comfort of having a family didn't last long, I should say. Grandfather Gohan was a man of age and he was fast reaching senility. Even though that, he was always cheerful, loved to take care of me and Kakarott… spending all his free time with us, helping us with school and everything… The old man made things just the way a normal family should… It was a Men's kingdom at home. We did everything as we pleased as long as we didn't break rules like doing our homework before sitting in front of the TV and such… I had been happy at the time, having the younger brother I never had to exhort, to be looked up to and to be a role model to…

"But good things never lasted with me… Two years after I initially joined their little family, Gohan passed away, taken down by some illness that had chased after him his whole life… And so, he left me and Kakarott parentless again, at the mercy of the country's orphanages and child protection programs. I wouldn't have it that way though. I refused to be shoved in those shit holes with all kinds of losers who had nothing better to do than pick on the different ones like me and Kakarott… I was thirteen, for Christ's sake! I could think on my own already, I was capable of thinking for myself in a long time!

"But Kakarott wasn't… He was alone and afraid… he didn't want us to split after that, because he wouldn't have made it on his own at that point in his life. He was pathetic in his uselessness, but I couldn't just leave him there… Besides, Gohan's property was his as much as it was mine, if not even more so." He took a deep breath, as if completing the first chapter of his life's story. Bulma hadn't been so still in a long time, just staring at the same wall he was, thoughtless and emotionless to the new information, all she was doing being listening and trying to comprehend those things.

"If I didn't want us to end up in one of those dumps, I would have to find something to do for a living so we earned some money. Gohan was a thoughtful man and had left us some savings for hard times, so we lived off of them until I got my paychecks. I worked as an elf in the markets for the Christmases, did charity at various occasions… The salaries weren't really significant but it was additional money. Anything additional was quite well and welcome. I went to school, then to work and the evenings were the only times I spent some time with Kakarott, helping him with school or something… My free time I congested with maths for upper classes and other activities I could possibly find useful. The less time I had to muse over past happenings, the calmer my head and consciousness.

"Once in seventh grade, I got acquainted with this boy, Rain…" His eyes became wistful as he recalled the person in question. "He lived with just his father and sister. He had had a hard life much like Kakarott and me and we easily got along. He introduced me to his family and his father's computer business. If I could perceive programming, I could get paid a hundred times the salary I got from charity, and all the other activities… You can tell that's a proposal you can hardly reject. And so I began – I studied night and day, day and night, so I could assure that I and my best friend could live well in the future couple of years. I became the best programmer of my time and age when I was only fourteen. People did decades of studying to comprehend what I could do after just a year of insistent reading…" Bulma's eye brows had once again creased. She was getting more and more amazed with that boyfriend of hers and his capabilities with every word that exited his mouth…

"When I turned thirteen things started to change dramatically for me. I had always been close to Rain, but Kakarott was more like a brother to me, we lived together! It was more than reasonable I would care for him more. I believed that all my emotions were mutual, that he enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed his, that he didn't need anyone else to be content with life as long as he had me there, taking care of us… But I was wrong. Kakarott was kind and naïve to the core but he knew what he wanted when he saw it. And that's when he met ChiChi." Bulma's eyes lit up slightly at the mentioning of her best friend's name. "God, how I despised the mere sound of her name exiting his mouth as if she was some deity of some sort when it the same time all she did was try to control him and his wishes.

"He began coming home later, if coming back at all. All he could talk about was her and what they did together, how perfect of a match they were and how great they fitted together, things that I was certain she preached loud and long enough to make him believe he thought so too. I had no idea what the bitch was like, but I could care less. I didn't want to meet with her because I was certain I'd wring her neck if I met with her in person. My malice was so great for her stealing the only close person I had. I couldn't get over the fact that I cared for him more than he would ever care for me, in a way too different for him to return those feelings. The shock at the realization of what the feeling I had towards ChiChi was great enough to knock me off my feet – I was so incredibly jealous."

His girlfriend blinked insistently at the words. The first mind-blowing idea was Vegeta openly showing any kind of affection for his best friend, which she had never been a witness of. She could barely comprehend that, not to mention him being… jealous! What did that mean? So the rumors about him circulating in the lower social circles… were true?

"For years I hadn't even talked to a girl for more than ten seconds in total and I had emotions and thoughts on people of the same gender I shouldn't have… I was disgusted with the fact that my father had almost turned out to be correct… a left-handed man had something royally messed up in him. I started going out with the wrong crowd which eventually lead to devastating results.

"I wanted to become a real man, to knock out of my mind all thoughts impure addressed to my roommate and so I met upperclassmen that assured me that the best way to forget anything was a good lay. I was still a virgin which should've been easily understood considering I was six months shy of my fourteenth birthday, but that meant nothing to them and refusing to do as they asked would certainly get me in big trouble. To me, there was no proper way to put an end to my virgin days – my head was as fucked up as it could get, I thought—after Kakarott's betrayal—that I was as unlovable as I could get, I would never find anyone to care about me ever again so I threw all conscious thought out the window and did as they advised me. Namely – I slept with a hooker." Too much displeasing information was penetrating her mind's protections.

"Usually people were content with the service they got for their money… but I had no such luck. I was so shaken that I barely managed to get it up and that woman's stillness and hubris helped me none. She glared at me as if I was filth on her shoes all the while, never breaking eye contact. It made me uncertain and I was afraid. She made no sound during the entire time I was in her… She was like a toy, breakable and fragile, yet hostile and menacing… I didn't want to think of the experience any more than needed, I stopped going out with those guys afterwards while my conscience ate on me… I would never be able to please a woman, a man, anyone! No one would care about me; no one would want to give into me completely, because I wouldn't know how to be of any use to them…

"Miraculously, I was rescued even from that pit by none other than Rain whom I have neglected through the entire second half of seventh grade. During the summer vacation we got closer as I told him about Kakarott and I and he appeared even more understanding than I could ever be. He was slightly older than me yet he sounded a decade older than his actual age. He told me it was natural for me to be confused after living alone all this time and that I should rest assured – I would know whether or not I'm straight when I met The One for me." He smirked, taken in some distant land of fond memories. "The bastard made everyone believe he was so high and mighty yet he used such corny terminology, fit for the past century." He shook his head lightly, ridding himself of the reveries that entered his mind.

"To divert me from those thoughts that kept on nagging at me, he introduced me to skating and I proved to be a natural. He showed me the ways of the street life as a way to earn money. We took up fighting and street racing as well. People gave a stack of bills to see us race, fight or match up our skating skills and see who was better. He won most of the times but we had an agreement to always split by half. I came to know a life better than anything I had ever wished for after Gohan's death. I was adored, I was famous! People didn't point at me, laughing. They were ready to kiss my feet if I so much as wished them to; they were talking about me as if I was a God. Rain taught me how to prevent my tail from showing in public and that was the last thing that completed the picture. I was no longer Vegeta Ouji, the reject, an abortion of God. I was now Vegeta Ouji, the skater Prince, Lord of street races and unbeatable in hand-to-hand fights.

"People started imitating me, wanting to be like me. I started giving lessons myself to people who wanted them, with my current best friend at my side at all times. Rain and I were inseparable the way that I was once close with Kakarott. I didn't have any feelings for him the way I had with Kakarott though… I knew why my thoughts had been jumbled back then and it would never happen again. I could finally see the difference between a friend and someone who's more than a friend. I did have guys fighting over me, as you've probably heard such rumours in the rumour mill that is our school. It's true that I had been confused back then, but things weren't as atrocious as those idiots make them out to be. I had never even kissed someone of the same gender, not to mention anything more." His nose wrenched up in disgust. "Confusion and brain-death differ greatly, yet those goons probably fail to see the difference.

"Everything was going fine and perfect. I could freely laugh at the time, finally capable of freeing myself from the ghosts of the past that had clouded my vision ever since the stress of my best friend backstabbing me because of a girl. Even Kakarott had taken up skating so we could spend more time together as he acknowledged—finally—that he was neglecting his best friend. I could care less even if he moved in with the wench of a girlfriend of his. It was none of my concern. I had a new best friend who understood me better, who could easily relate to my feelings and put himself in my shoes. We did all kinds of shit together, occasionally getting ourselves in trouble even though Rain's father never mistreated us in any way even when we created messes that were hard to solve your way out of. But as I mentioned good things never lasted in my life…

"By the time we were back to school, now high school students, we had an additional student in our class. Her name was Hailie and she seemed to be an outcast just like we were compared to the rest of the class, even though we were rather placed on a pedestal as something untouchable. We accepted her among us because she was just like us. She came to our practices, went out with us and generally enjoyed herself while around us. And, just like Rain had told me, I knew at that point whether I'm "sane" or not. And I knew that because I knew she was the one for me. Or so I believed at the time…

"I had told Rain of my feelings once and thought whether or not I should ask for an advice but decided against it. I did everything with her, tried to show her how I felt without having to say it aloud. It was difficult to me, I had thought of myself incapable of love or being loved until that point. She didn't reject me at all; she seemed to enjoy my company as much as I enjoyed hers… We were so alike and we fit perfectly. But then she had to get sick, her life had to be threatened. I panicked. I couldn't have her ripped out of my grasp the same way I let the bitch life take my mother. I wouldn't have it that way. I promised her she would get better, that I would do anything in my power to pull her out of the ditch she had fallen into on her way towards the better life that she craved as much as I did.

"I took up a part-time job which paid me well for the sheer fact that I was Vegeta Ouji, advertising their company well among the teenagers. Their profits rose sky-high because of me and they couldn't possibly have another choice. I paid her stay at the hospital, her medicaments, tutored her in my free time, stayed by her side in every free second of the day. But she still looked miserable, discontent with what I was giving her, but I couldn't notice at the time. I was so blind in my wish to be loved back with the same intensity I loved her that I didn't notice her absent-mindedness, or the look in her eyes when she saw I had come to visit her to the hospital, again alone as I always came.

"The rest I don't want to discus, you've surely heard the end of the story on Hailie's behalf." His eye brows narrowed dangerously over his eyes. "I couldn't comprehend why she agreed to go out with me if she preferred him to me… I couldn't understand why it was necessary to listen to me spilling all my precious secrets to her if she didn't want to hear any of them. I couldn't understand why the hell she didn't stop me when I first kissed her or slept with her. And damned if I know why for goodness' sake she had to cheat to make me understand I couldn't please her!" He slammed his fist against the floor, creating a cobweb-like crack beneath the worn out carpeting.

"If being betrayed by the person you love most isn't enough, she had to cheat on me with the person I trusted most in my entire lifetime – my best fucking friend… It was then clear to me how much of friends of mine they actually were, doing things behind my back, hoping I would never find out about their affairs… And then he had the audacity to tell me I was selfish and conceited, wrapped up in my own little world when he was the one who stole my girlfriend, my reason to live!" His fist clenched tightly and his knuckles grew white with the pressure he applied on his flesh, nearly tearing a wound open in his palm.

"I couldn't get over it; I couldn't shake off the dread of the betrayal. I couldn't rid myself of the pain that surfaced every time I went back to my apartment and noticed the bed that she slept in with me for countless nights, see the living room where I spent hours after hours with him, talking, laughing or plain relaxing from a hard day at work and school. I was so sick and tired of her calling me so we "cleared things up". I was so sick and tired of him patronizing me, telling me how wrong I had been or whatnot. I could go on no longer; I would burst if I stayed in that apartment. The summer vacation before senior year I gathered my wits and began getting part time jobs as much as I could, bent on saving up enough money to buy a new house or apartment on the other side of the city; I wished to see or hear no more of that pair and God knew that Kakarott and I needed to let go of Gohan's legacy. We were old enough to take care of ourselves then, it was about time we grew out of our childish fears.

"And I believe that the rest you know well, since that's the moment we met. At the time my self-convincing had become so great I could assure myself I was content with my life as it was. I was away from Hailie, far from Rain and any worries have been left behind. But I couldn't sleep at night, I couldn't get over it. They still haunt me today, urging me to free some of this pent up energy that I can't rid myself of… At night before I fall asleep I can't help wondering if I deserve this, all of this…" She was positive he meant their relationship. "You don't deserve to be tainted by the likes of me, my foul mind and soul… Anything that comes in contact with me either breaks down entirely or gets reduced to something just as foul as I am… I don't believe in love anymore, therefore even if you do feel for me at some point in time, I can't return those feelings, I don't want to requite them. I hardly trust anyone and I rarely show my true emotions as a defense-mechanism from previous days when it had been vital not to show any weaknesses… You won't have a decent relationship if you stay with me, you won't change me as I refuse to change because of anyone anymore… I have been hurt repeatedly, I am a monster by heart and there's an odd fire that burns within me that you can easily burn yourself on…

"If you want to walk out this door and never come back, I'd understand. If you wish to no longer put up with me and my shit, just leave. I'm not forcing you to stay just because you know some sort of 'top secret' or whatever… Do as you wish… It's all fine and dandy as long as you let me rot in here."

The first silence in a long time stretched itself over the couple like a cloud of dusty air. Bulma had no idea how to react to all of this…

All those atrocious gruesome things had happened to him. Hatred, malice, betrayal, loneliness, bitterness, disappointment – none of those emotions were alien to him and he had lived with them his entire life. On top of all, he possessed physical strength greater than anyone else's, and a frisky tail that she adored to pet and hear his throaty purr. He wasn't normal; that much was clear. He was stronger than any of the boys she had met in her life; that was crystal clear too. What she had figured after his tale was that he was the strongest person mentally that she could ever encounter as well. His strong character was built on things that would either drive a normal person crazy or towards suicidal. Yet he stood tall and proud, getting up every time life tackled him, refusing to quit, giving up on this world.

Pity? No, it wasn't pity that she felt for him.

She admired him.

She admired his skill to overcome the hardships life added to his already stacked dish and he still managed to pull through, to laugh, to smirk, to mock and fight… to be her same old Vegeta. She had no idea what he had been before she had met him but she knew it was this Vegeta, this proud temperamental easily-pissed off teenager that she had fallen for. It was this cocky never-quitting on taunting and scorning bastard who neglected his best friend's affection and open-heartedness that she adored.

Walk out the door and leave him alone? She could never do such a thing. She loved him now, more than ever. It would take her some time to completely comprehend his problems, issues and all that he had just told her about. Still, she wanted to be a part of his life, a permanent part of it. His tale, no tale, could change that opinion of hers. She wanted to be next to him the next time he encountered problems. She wanted to be there for him the next time he needed someone to lean on. She wanted to be the one he would turn to when he needed a friend to understand… She wanted to be there for him, at all times, in all places.

Yet what could she say to this? How could she tell him all those things without scaring him off? They sounded too serious for senior high school students, improper for such a conversation. How could she show him how much she loved him without becoming obsessive and possessive of his actions and wishes the same way he had accused ChiChi of being towards Goku?

"I need to be alone," he stated suddenly, derailing her train of thought.

"No, Vegeta!" she exclaimed, refusing to let go of his waist as her hands had been there for the last half an hour during the whole story he told her, comforting his suppressed shudders caused by revolting memories. "You have to eat something and drink before you pass out! I don't know how strong you might think you are, but you're still a mortal. Come on; let's go to Capsule Corporation so I feed you something nice my mom cooked. You like my mother's dishes, don't you?" He shook his head sternly at her. She didn't understand.

"I'm not in the mood to eat or drink anything… I can't stand you pitying me. I don't want to see you right now… I need to be alone with me thoughts…"

"Pity you?" she asked incredulously. "You're mistaken there. I do not pity you – I admire you," she told him frankly, staring deep into his dark orbs. "You're the strongest person I had ever seen, Vegeta – both mentally and physically! You're so different than everyone else, you're so complicated and understanding, you're so terrific and a wonderful and thoughtful boyfriend when you want to be – how could I possibly let go of you? I can't get enough of you; I can't even separate myself from you! You mean everything to me!" She buried her face in the crook of his neck.

Another pause ensued as her boyfriend didn't retort. She didn't know how to understand that but she was just content with holding him. She had missed him so much and in the same time after what he had just said she inevitably looked at him differently. He was her hero now, an inhumanely strong-willed person in her eyes. She tried to hide this from him and hoped that he would oblige and come to eat something with her. But when he spoke, all she could do was frown.

"Leave; now;" he demanded sternly, in the same eerily quiet voice that he had used earlier on him.

"Vegeta—"

"I said leave now, why won't you listen?" he yelled insanely to her. He was ventilating some of the fury that had risen in him after letting all those painful memories resurface in his mind. "Please leave! There, I said it! I even asked you to kindly leave me alone right now! Why are you still harping on the same tone, why are you so bent on angering me? Leave me to my thoughts, leave me alone!"

She said nothing but unlaced her from around him. She stood up and gave him one last lingering impassive gaze before she shut the door quietly behind herself. She hoped he knew where to find her if he needed her for anything, anything at all. She would always be there for him.

"I'll leave now, if you insist so much, Vegeta… Take care of yourself…please?" she muttered breathlessly as she exited.

Once she was out of sight, the male buried his face in his bent knees which he pulled closer to his body with his arms' tight embrace, his shoulders and back trembling with soundless sobs. He couldn't have her see him like this… And he oddly found his release in such a humiliating act… He felt embarrassed, incredibly humiliated, for even thinking of performing such a thing, but the relief his soul felt was immeasurable with human measures and was beyond the mind's comprehension…

He had gone to hell and back again… but he was still alive

Please… please stop… no more pain… I can take no more…

But he knew he could and he would… He had to calm himself… because he was a warrior. And a warrior never cried…

x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x

LIVE JOURNAL FOR MY ELABORATED NOTES ON THE CHAPTER!

This chapter took approximately twelve (12!) hours to complete, and a major neglecting of important school work. I hope that at least that is enough of a reason for you to review. (Grins) Thanks in advance!

Highest regards to Son Christine, whose fanfic title inspired the title of the chapter! Thank you, girl!

Next time: Chapter Twenty-Four: Do You Love Me?