Chapter Four:
Bulma was in a military camp. There were men all around her, but she was in a cage, raised into the air above a large rectangular table. It stretched from one wall to the other, and people got around the room by climbing over the top, through the many plates that looked like a full buffet, stacked on top of a white velvet tablecloth. The men pointed and hollered at her, screaming for someone to let her down. It was the first time in her life that she wished to live in a cage and never get out. It was shaped like a bird's cage, with a round top and a flat bottom. She looked down and noticed that the bottom had a hinge—that was where it opened from. She instinctively grabbed onto the bars on either side of her, holding on for dear life.
"Open the cage!" a drunk man screamed.
"Let out the whore!"
Bulma stared in a panic, wide-eyed, trying to look around the room. But she couldn't even memorize a face because they were all so similar. All these men… What did they want from her?
The lights were low. There were some candles, and the soft lights above her flickered every few seconds. It felt as if she could barely see with all the noise, like the sound of shouting and loud, drunken conversation was interfering with her eyes. It was a strange sensation.
Some of the men were in traditional Saiyan armor, but not all the men below her were Saiyan. One, who constantly had his arms stretched out towards her and a slack jaw, had light purple skin with dark purple boules all over his face. She had no idea which species he was, but the way he stared at her was zombie-like, as if he was dead.
Without a glimmer of a warning, Bulma heard a loud snapping noise, and in the next second, the door at the bottom of the cage unlatched itself, and Bulma's hands slipped on the bars as she tumbled down. Her leg hit the table below her at an angle and she cried out in pain. It took her less than a moment to register the sound of shattering glass, and in a matter of one second, the pain from a piece of a dinner plate drew her attention to her arm, where it stuck, holding in the blood as a single drop dripped down to her elbow.
She'd fallen only a couple second ago, and already the men were on top of her, tearing at her clothes and trying to force her down. She tried to fight, but it was no use. There were just too many of them. She cried out once before a piece of stale, crusty bread was shoved so deep in her mouth she felt it cut the back of her throat and she tasted blood.
She made as loud of a noise as she could manage, hoping someone would be able to identify it as a cry for help, but even to her, it just sounded like a loud moan. Some of the men even appeared to enjoy the sounds she was making.
A thick hand wrapped around her throat and squeezed. It got tighter and tighter until she just couldn't breath, and she could feel a tightness in her face as an agonizing headache took over her whole body. This was it. This was how she was going to die…
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Bulma's eyes shot open and she tried to gasp for air, but nothing happened. She reached up and tried to pry the man's hand away from her neck, but he was too strong, and she didn't move him at all. Panicking, she tightened her fingers and dug her nails into the skin as hard as she could, and relief hit her like a wave as the man shouted and winced in shock and pain. He immediately let go of her and backed away a bit.
She coughed like she'd never coughed before. He throat was dry and scratchy, but she noticed that she couldn't taste blood anymore. And the bread wasn't in her mouth. The taste wasn't even left behind. And the other men… were gone.
"Fuck! What are you trying to do?!"
Bulma tried to open her eyes, but she still had a lot of coughing left in her, and she knew it would be a minute before she could respond to anything. But her senses were returning to her, slowly. It must have been a dream. There was no cage above her, and she was on a bed, not a table. There were no military men, and there was no glass shard in her arm. She was perfectly fine… except for the fact that someone had been choking her.
She began to panic again, but she knew that annoyed voice. It was the prince. And this was his room, his bed. She was right where she was supposed to be. But the day had gone by so fast…
Bulma bolted upright, remembering that she'd fallen asleep after finishing her work early. It had been almost an hour before dinner in the kitchens, and she remembered lying down on the princes bed for a quick nap before he returned and she left to grab the food. But his voice was beside her, so he was already back. And now that the coughing was starting to subside…
"Are you serious?! You were going to choke me to death because I fell aslee—"
Bulma froze when she turned, watching as the prince rubbed the sleep from his eyes with one arm, and checked his other arm with a disgusted frown. He was bleeding. And he had just woken up.
"What… happened?" Bulma asked quietly, and not regretfully. She'd hurt him… but he'd been on top of her in his sleep. At least, his arm had been over her windpipe as they slept. And she'd dug her nails into him. Her next reaction was how easy it had been for a her, an Earthling, to make him bleed, even if it was only a little. It surprised her that she was able to draw blood.
"It's dark out already," Prince Vegeta grumbled, still glaring at his arm. Then he turned his hateful eyes on her and Bulma frowned. "And I'm starving. You forgot to bring me dinner. And you fell asleep. On my bed."
She wanted to reply that that's where she'd been sleeping the past few nights and he didn't have much of a problem with it before, but she stayed quiet, trying to think before she opened her mouth to reply. She had already hurt him. She didn't want to anger him even more.
"What time did you get back from training?" she asked, not meeting his angry eyes.
"Does it matter? I came back expecting food and I got a servant sleeping in my bed again."
"You… could have woken me."
The prince grumbled and rolled onto his side, putting his back to her as he laid back down. Bulma tried to look at his arm, but she couldn't see it anymore.
"Are you… going to punish me?" she asked slowly, and it took him quite a while to respond.
"For what?"
Bulma blinked a few times, but decided that it was probably best to not answer that one. Instead, she rubbed her throbbing neck and gently got out of bed. She stood and stretched, winced once from her new discomfort, and then walked towards the exit.
"Where are you going?" the prince called, and Bulma looked back at him. He lifted his head to watch her with narrowed eyes.
"I'm sure you're still hungry. I'm just going to grab something from the kitchen for you, my Lord."
Prince Vegeta stared at her for a few seconds before grumbling and dropping his head back down on a pillow. Bulma nodded once to herself before exiting and closing the door with a sigh.
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"It just feels like every moment I'm dancing on glass with him. I don't know how else to put it, Chi."
The black-haired beauty whisked up some eggs for an omelet as she listened to Bulma's rant. But as usual, it wasn't long before she had to cut it.
"You did fall asleep on the job, you know. If you take the prince's reputation into consideration, he's been extremely lenient on you recently." She paused. "Well, I don't know if it's leniency or something else…"
"Well, what else could it be?"
Chichi poured the eggs into an oiled pan and added a few other ingredients to it. It was a large pan, and at least ten eggs, but everyone around here knew how much a Saiyan could eat, even for a midnight snack.
"Don't you know the science behind Earthling and Saiyan interaction, especially when the Saiyan is the male and the Earthling is the female?"
"What are you talking about?" Bulma frowned. "Please don't make this sexual. He's the prince of the goddamn planet and I'm pretty sure, deep down, he hates my guts and wants to kill me."
"It's not sexual, Bulma. I said it was science."
"Well, now you really have to explain."
Chichi sighed as she stirred her masterpiece. It looked and smelled delicious. It was a blessing that she was willing to stay in the kitchen this late just because she knew Bulma hadn't shown up for the prince's dinner. The girl really was a gift.
"So, I spent a little of my time with the medical department when I first came to the castle, because I was convinced that I could make a good nurse." She rolled her eyes at herself. "I was a little silly back then. I had my head in the clouds… But anyway, they talked a lot about Earthlings in particular. Apparently, we're one of the most interesting topics in medicine and scientific experiment conversations. Well, to Saiyans. Not to the other species."
"Why? We were told when they captured Earth that we're all worthless to this planet."
"That's the thing. You know how they killed off most of the males and kept the females. There's a reason for that."
"Yea, I know. It's because they like how the babies turn out when they get older." Bulma stuck out her tongue in disgust. "But we know how they treat Earthling women everywhere but in this castle. It's horrible."
"I agree. But there's something about a Saiyan and an Earthling being compatible, in more ways than that. Obviously, because I guess a hybrid has amazing qualities, our bodies instinctively want us to reproduce with each other."
Bulma frowned. "That's kind of disturbing."
"But listen to this. I learned that when the relationship is between a male Saiyan and one of us, it drives the man to want to reproduce."
"Please don't tell me you think Prince Vegeta wants to rape me." Bulma scowled.
"I think if that's what he wanted, he would have done it already. The scientists I spoke with back then said something like protection was a factor. Apparently, when a Saiyan thinks one of us is worth mating with—and by that I guess I mean they just find us physically attractive—then a switch goes off in their brain, and some kind of bond is created."
Bulma had to laugh. "I think you're very intelligent, Chi, but I doubt that Vegeta feels some kind of protection bond with me. He hurt me already. He wanted me to be tortured. And I don't know if it was an accident or not, but he tried to strangle me in his sleep."
"You said he just rolled on top of you by accident."
"I don't really know what happened before I woke up, okay? But the point is… that might be true for some Saiyans, but clearly not all of them."
"It was a very complicated dynamic, to be honest with you. I'm just trying to tell you in simple terms. All I'm saying is that it seems like he's definitely attached to you, in one way or another. And I'm just trying to come up with a reason why. And it just seems to make sense because you're from Earth. Earthling females are also known to be able to calm a raging Saiyan, if the Saiyan feels close to her. I'm going to have to try to remember everything they said. It's not all coming back to me just yet."
"I really don't think that's it, Chi. He's just putting up with me. I feel like he could still send me away at any minute. I don't feel entirely safe around him, either."
"Well, whatever you believe, I'm telling you this: It's been scientifically proven that Saiyan males are subconsciously attracted to Earthling females over their own kind. Something about the smell, I think… I'm pretty sure it was just an Earthling's natural scent that they used in the experiments."
"You mean, like sweat?"
"All of it. Sweat, blood, pee, saliva. You name it. Apparently, the Saiyan males in the experiment were drawn to those things in Earthlings, but not in other Saiyans. It was actually really weird. And to be honest, I think that's the main reason they keep us alive on this planet. I think it's just because of some natural "like" that they have for us. Otherwise they would have gotten rid of us along with the men, don't you think?—Oh! The omelet!"
Chichi quickly flipped the eggs and finished them with some salt and pepper. She threw them onto one large platter and handed it to Bulma with a smile.
"Don't keep the prince waiting," she smirked.
Bulma rolled her eyes and took the platter.
"The prince doesn't think of me that way," she said, lowering her eyes to the floor. "He makes it very clear that I'm just a servant. Unimportant and replaceable. I just hope he doesn't say it so much that I start to believe it."
Bulma frowned when her black-haired friend started laughing. When she finished, Bulma continued to frown.
"I'd like to see him come in here and ask for his own food one day," she snickered, wiping a tear from her eye. "Yea, right."
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"Sorry, there were only a couple people left in the kitchen," Bulma said, bursting into the prince's chambers. A part of her still expected him to be asleep, but he was awake, in only a tight pair of dark blue, spandex pants, sitting at the table. She took a second to take a mental picture of his chest and arms, although she saw him like this pretty often. It didn't make it less impressive, though.
Bulma took the cover off the platter and gently set the steaming omelet in front of him. She pulled some rolled silverware out of her back pocket and set it down next to the platter before bowing slightly and taking a few steps back.
Bulma stood there awkwardly before the prince snapped at her.
"Are you just going to stand there and watch me eat, then?!"
"I'm sorry," she jumped, heading for the bathroom. Maybe there was something to clean where she could have at least a door between them. Chichi's words danced around in her head like a joke she didn't understand yet. But there was no punchline. There would be no moment of recognition where she would feel a light bulb go off and maybe laugh a little. It just felt like a really poor joke that unluckily got stuck in her head.
Why would a Saiyan be attached to an Earthling, anyway? Everyone already knew that her species was one of the weakest in the world. And as for the powerful hybrids, an Earthling female's purpose here was literally to get raped and produce as many children as possible before the poor woman, or girl, died. And no one on this planet ever died from old age or natural causes. It wasn't like her kind were treated as special, unless mistreatment was special to them.
No. Chichi had probably just been listening to the ramblings of bored doctors who had nothing better to do with their free time. And as for the experiments, Saiyan men were all savage warriors that lived their lives one bloody battle to the next. So, of course they would be attracted to the smell of a woman. It was common sense, not science.
"Woman!" Prince Vegeta shouted, and Bulma came rushing out of the bathroom after standing there, pondering. She hadn't cleaned anything, but she doubted he'd notice.
"Yes, sir?" she asked with a bow.
"I'm not tired. I'm going back into the training chambers for a few hours."
"I'll clean up and have your room ready for you when you return, your Highness."
"No…" he trailed off, looking away from her and leaning back in his chair. He put his hands behind his head and tilted his head to look up at the ceiling. "There won't be anyone monitoring the training chambers at this time… You'll come with me and monitor the gravity."
"The… what?"
"Are you stupid?" he snapped.
"No, I know what gravity is. It's just… I don't know how to work those machines. I've never even been in one before, much less looked into how it works."
"You don't need to be an expert. You just watch the dials and make sure it doesn't get too high or too low. You'll only have to touch two levers, if anything. One to change the gravity and one to turn the machine on and off. Even someone like you could figure it out."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bulma grumbled, placing her hands on her hips.
The prince stood without even a change in his expression. Did he really think she was stupid? He walked over and opened the door.
"Don't you want to put some clothes on?" Bulma asked, still a little peeved by his comment.
"Are you sure you're not asking me to take them off?" he smirked, and Bulma felt her face get heated a bit in embarrassment.
"Absolutely not."
The prince turned and walked out, his back to her and his foot in the door, waiting for her to follow. Bulma sneered at his back, trying to ignore the fact that his shoulder blades were attractive as hell to her. She ignored the voice in her head telling her to place her hand against his bare skin as she walked out the door with him. Maybe Chichi had it wrong. Maybe it was the females that were attracted to the Saiyans? There was no way it meant she had an ounce of respect for the jerk prince, but she had to admit that he was hot. If she had to describe the perfect man in terms of sex appeal, Prince Vegeta came as close as anyone she'd ever met… But that didn't mean he was a good person, and when she thought about it like that, it almost made her sad.
"We're here."
Bulma almost bumped into his back, and she would have if he hadn't opened his mouth. She looked around him and only saw a white door.
"This is where you'll watch the monitors. It's not that difficult."
He opened the door and didn't hold it for her. Bulma was used to it, but almost expected him to from her previous thoughts. She entered a brightly lit room, full of different instruments and computer screens, all covered in flashing red and yellow buttons. The prince flicked a switch and one of the red lights started blinking green. A single monitor came on and the screen showed a round, dome-lidded room. It was lit with all red lights and the floor, walls and ceiling were all made of metal tile.
"Wait here," the prince commanded, and Bulma just nodded. She knew the purpose of these machines was to help train Saiyans for combat, but she wasn't sure exactly how it worked, other that gravity manipulation. It was an interesting machine, to say the least. She just wished she knew more about it.
Prince Vegeta left the room, and about a minute later, his voice came out of a small speaker to Bulma's left.
"Hold the blue button to speak. Release it when your finished. I'll hear you when you're pressing it down. I'm going to enter the gravity chamber and you'll see me on the screen. When I'm in the enter of the room, turn the big black dial to fifty. That means you're increasing the gravity. Don't put it past fifty unless I tell you to. And never turn it off unless I tell you to. Do you understand?"
Bulma held the blue button down to speak.
"You're going to walk into the red-lit room on the screen here, and when I see you stand in the center, I'll turn the black dial to ten, no more, no less. Got it. But how will I know when you want me to turn it off?"
"I'll walk back over to the comms and tell you." He sounded like it was common sense, but she'd never done this before, so how was she supposed to know?
"Okay, sure—I mean, yes, sir."
There was a bit of static before Bulma turned her eyes to the screen and watched as the prince, still in just his tight pants, walked to the center of the room. He stood up straight and stared right at the camera. Bulma froze for a moment, realizing that he probably couldn't see her, and she was just watching him, shirtless. The thought excited her a bit, but she quickly remembered the directions and reached for the black dial. Assuming it was best to crank it up slowly, she turned it to two, then three, watching the prince carefully. It didn't seem to be doing much until she hit thirty, when his shoulders quickly dropped and he gritted his teeth. Bulma cranked the dial to forty a little faster and she watched as he opened his mouth in what must have been a shout. She wondered if there was a way to let her hear him, but she didn't want to start touching things. She decided to just put the dial on fifty and get it over with, so she turned it and let it sit on fifty, watching the screen.
The prince dropped to his knees and opened his mouth, probably shouting again. She watched him struggle to get back on his feet and after a minute of slowly moving around, he began throwing punches into the air. And then kicks. And then he was jumping and moving around so fast she could barely keep up with him on the screen. She watched in amazement, the only thought in her mind being how amazing a Saiyan's physical talent was. She'd never seen any of them train like this. She'd seen fights and deaths but they were bar squabbles compared to the prince.
There were times when she stopped watching the screen over the next hour and a half, and every time she caught herself she felt a little bad. He was clearly stressing his body by doing this, whatever it was, really. She didn't know what the dial meant, other than the fact that it was increasing the gravity. And all she could think of was when he removed her collar, and how she would have crushed under her own weight in a matter of minutes. This clearly wasn't the same as that, but it was all she had as a reference. So, if she felt bad for looking away, it was because she remembered her own pain, and she didn't want to see anyone hurt like that. Not even the prince.
Another thought that crossed her mind was the sense that he was trusting her. When she looked at the black dial, it's numbers ran all the way up to five hundred, and yet he fell to his knees at fifty. If she decided to turn the dial up all the way… would he just die in an instant? Or would he fall and scream and cry out and die slowly, as his bones crumbled and fractured? As awful as he treated her sometimes, she would never want to kill him like that. There were times she wanted him dead, she had to admit. But not like this. She wouldn't wish that kind of pain and death on even her worst enemies.
Bulma shook her head, realizing that she'd taken her eyes off the screen again. She blinked a few times and then jumped. The prince was waving at her… She watched him, making sure that he really wanted her to turn down the dial so she wouldn't get in trouble. He pointed his thumb down and motioned again and Bulma nodded once before doing it slowly. She dropped it to forty, then the thirty, and then quickly to ten and then back to one. When she looked back at the screen, the prince was gone, and she yelped when the door opened behind her.
"We're going back," he panted, and Bulma turned, frozen for a moment by his appearance now that he wasn't drowning in dark, red light. He was covered in a shimmering layer of sweat, and she realized that he still wasn't wearing shoes, either. His bare feet hit the floor as he turned. "Come on, servant woman. Prepare me a hot shower." He was panting, too. He'd been training for almost two hours in there. She knew she couldn't even begin to comprehend what that entailed.
"Yes, sir," Bulma bowed. She switched off the machine and everything powered down, going back to red and yellow lights and blank screens.
The walk back to his chambers was quiet, and a regretful thought came over Bulma.
"I… I'm sorry about your arm. I shouldn't have done that…"
"No, you shouldn't have…," he replied. She lowered her head. "But if you hadn't, you might have died. I've been told I'm difficult to wake up sometimes."
He was… making conversation with her… Bulma was a little in shock. It was surprising, and not even in a good way. It was just… a little weird.
"So you just… had your arm on me?" she asked, regretting the way it came out. She just wanted to know what happened, but even she could tell the implications of what she'd just asked.
"I must have rolled over," he replied, quietly, ignoring the implications. Maybe he was so worn out from training that he didn't notice. After all, it was the second time he'd trained that day, too.
"You must be exhausted…" Bulma frowned. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a bath, instead? I can bring you something else to eat from the kitchen. My one friend who works there said that she put some things away for leftovers and I was free to take them for you."
The prince didn't respond, but when they got back to his room, Bulma pulled out her key and stepped in front to unlock it for him.
"I'll take a bath, then," he answered, and Bulma almost forgot the question, but turned to him with a light smile. She tried to keep it on her face, but he really was tired. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
"Of course… you can relax on the seat there while I run the water. It'll only take a couple minutes."
"And make sure the water—"
"—the water will be really hot, don't worry," she said with a smirk, cutting him off. He didn't seem entertained, but she had to smile anyway.
He sat down at the table and waited the three minutes for the tub to fill. Bulma came out with a towel and yelped when she saw him stand, his pants on the floor next to the seat. She quickly looked away, not giving the bad side of herself the opportunity to look long enough to have a mental image scar her.
"Th-The bath is ready, your Highness."
She looked straight at the floor as he strode past her, into the bathroom. He didn't shut the door behind him, but she heard him get into the tub, and the familiar splash of the water overflowing onto the tile floor.
"I'm going to go grab something from the kitchen. It won't take five minutes," she called, rushing out of the room. It took her one minute to get there, two minutes to grab so heated food, and two minutes to jog back without spilling anything. She opened the door and gently set the plates on the table. Prince Vegeta wasn't out of the bath yet, but she didn't hear any movement of water. Carefully and slowly, she walked over and peered around the corner.
The prince's eyes were shut, so she relaxed a bit as she watched him. The glare on the surface of the water hid everything that was submerged, and she noticed that he was slowly sliding down into the water. His chest was all under and his shoulders went under after a minute. His breathing was slow, and he looked like he was already asleep. Bulma creased her eyebrows and tiptoed over to the side of the tub, bending down. Just before his neck was totally underwater, she placed three fingers under his chin and softly lifted his head up. It fell a little towards her and she steadied it with her thumb on the side of his jaw.
Without warning, the prince slowly opened his eyes and looked directly at her, half-asleep. His lips parted as he exhaled and Bulma felt her face go completely red. She quickly, but lightly, took back her hand and stood and ran out of the room, stopping when she was next to the food platters on the table.
"What the hell was that?" she whispered to herself in a slight panic, barely enough for her to hear. Her breathing was ragged from just a quick sprint around the corner, and her heart was pounding. Maybe she needed to exercise a little more if her stamina was really that bad…
She listened intently for the next few minutes until she heard the water splashing around as the prince got out of the tub. Another minute later he walked over to the table with a towel around his waist and sat down, his tired eyes barely seeing the food in front of him. Bulma frowned.
"Here," she said softly, pushing a small bowl of rice and chicken towards him. "Even if you can't eat that much, you did just exert yourself, so you should have a little."
Prince Vegeta took a few forkfuls of rice, and as he was about to take another, a light knock came from the door, startling Bulma. She looked to the prince to instructions, but he just ate the next forkful, so Bulma stood and answered the door.
Just as she cracked it open, a woman pushed her way in and walked right past Bulma.
"H-Hey!" Bulma called, leaving the door open as she caught the woman by the arm.
"Don't touch me, peasant filth!" the woman spat, but Bulma didn't let go.
"What are you doing? Why are you here so late?"
"That's none of your business, peasant girl. Let go of me before I break your fingers."
The prince didn't seem to care about anything that was happening, and Bulma liked her fingers, so she let the woman go. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around the prince's shoulders and rested her head on his.
"You don't seem like yourself, my Lord. Are you feeling alright?" she cooed. Bulma gulped and just closed the door. "Here, let's go to your bed. I'll make you feel real good before you sleep. How does that sound?"
Bulma noticed that he was practically sleeping in his seat. But he managed to squint his eyes, stand up from the chair and walk over to his bedchambers. Bulma frowned as she watched the woman take off his towel, and for some reason she wasn't blushing at the view this time. Her attention was strictly on the woman, who turned around and lifted an eyebrow.
"Does watching get you off, peasant?" she sneered. "Or maybe you're just jealous, then?"
Before the prince was even on the bed, the woman, constantly watching Bulma, dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth. Bulma watched without moving or flinching, but a sudden breathy moan from the prince took her by surprise and she quickly closed her mouth. The woman pulled back to push the prince onto the bed. He fell backwards and landed on the mattress heavily, legs hanging off.
"You should probably just go home, girl. He won't need you until morning."
Bulma opened her mouth to object, but the woman continued her work and the prince sounded like he was enjoying himself very much. She couldn't help but blush, but she couldn't understand what she was feeling. It wasn't sadness or anger, or even jealousy, which would have been surprising, but not as surprising as not knowing what she was feeling. It was strange, but she felt like leaving now wasn't a very good idea. Maybe it was distrust of the woman? She didn't think she should leave her alone with him when he was this tired. It was something like that, but she hadn't quite hit the nail on the head.
"Did you hear me? Go home," the woman barked, now climbing onto the bed with the prince.
Bulma pursed her lips and walked into the bedchambers.
"What are you doing? I said get out of here!"
Ignoring her, Bulma leaned into the bed on her forearms so her face was right next to Vegeta's. She waited until his eyes opened and he was looking at her. She had no idea what she was doing.
"Are you all right?" she whispered, somehow finding the courage to look him in the eye. He slowly nodded. "If I go back to my chambers now, are you going to be okay?" she repeated softly, and he nodded again, a strange expression on his face. She blamed how tired he was for any weird faces he made. "I'll be back at first light, then. Please try and get some sleep tonight."
As she began to lean back to get up, he grabbed her arm. She watched his eyes drop to her neck and he let go of her to run his fingers over her skin there. Bulma winced at the unexpected pain. She must have bruised already from before… And she thought for sure he was about to say something as his lips parted.
"—Ahhh…" The prince's eyes closed, and he quickly retracted his hand as his muscles tightened. The woman went back to work, and Bulma tried not to look at what was happening as she headed for the door.