Realization
This chapter is brought to you by Dying Grin, VegetaFanGirl1 and Daugther of Vegeta
"Well?" Vegeta barked impatiently, his fingers curling into fists as he tapped his foot against the white tiles of the lookout.
"I…" Dende's eyes narrowed, and his brow bones sagged in concentration. "I cannot sense her, but she is not in the afterlife either."
The prince's upper lip curled over his teeth in a sneer.
"Then what good are you?" he snapped, whipping his back toward the young Namekian. "All of you fucking Earthlings and Nameks are useless," he huffed with irritation, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Vegeta!" Piccolo snapped, a warning tone behind his bark. "Dende is doing his best. There is not much to be done without her ki."
Within a millisecond, Vegeta appeared in front of Piccolo, his fingers curling into the fabric of his white cape.
"Listen here, Namek," he spat, flecks of saliva landing upon Piccolo's green complexion. "Whoever dared to take my mate will be brought to justice," he growled, pulling Piccolo closer to him. "If it takes six, or six billion people to die by my hand," his words were chilling, "then so be it."
Vegeta released his hold on Piccolo's cape, a dark, murky gleam within his eye. The prince levitated off of the ground, glaring at Dende. "You find her," he snipped, his fingers curling into fists, "then you will alert me immediately."
"I will let you know as soon as possible when I gather more information," Dende nodded, worry evident upon his face. "In the meantime, it might be good to get help from the oth-"
Vegeta released a snarl, his eyes gleaming with rage and nostrils flaring angrily. He turned to face the Namekian one last time before stating cooly, "If you ever suggest that I receive help from one of you pathetic imbeciles, I will decimate you, and this Lookout without another thought."
With nothing left to say, the prince took flight, leaving a very confused and sorrowful Dende.
Sweat trickled down the side of face, and dribbled into his white stubble. He paced around the living room, panic coursing through his veins.
Capsule Corp wasn't safe, that much was clear. His daughter's kidnapper had returned.
Where could Bulma possibly be? Who could have taken her? Why did they want her?
They were all questions that could only swim through his mind and remained unanswered. Unfortunately, that was the most infuriating thing about being a scientist: sometimes you just couldn't come up with an answer.. Just like any science problem though, he needed to persevere. He couldn't give up. He needed to work through the pain.
He was determined to find the culprit of such a terrible deed. If he had to go through restless nights, and stressful days to bring his beloved daughter home, he would do it. It wasn't something unique to him though, any father would give anything to help their child.
Especially their missing one.
'Hopefully, he thought, glancing out the window at the crowd forming outside his home, this conference will assist us.'
After a few moments of intense thoughts and silence, the old man began making his way downstairs, and toward his daughter's hopeful salvation.
"Dr. Brief, Dr. Brief!" A reporter exclaimed, holding a microphone within close proximity of the man's moustache. "Why did you call this press conference for today?"
"Erm, well, you se-" he began, only to be cut off by another reporter.
"Mr. Trunks, has there been some kind of family tragedy?!"
Another voice erupted from the squashed crowd of news reporters and paparazzi. "Perhaps another grandchild?"
"Please!" Dr. Brief pleaded, holding his hands up as an indication for them to quiet down. Slowly, yet surely, they did. "Thank you," he nodded, clearing his throat lightly. He brought a calloused thumb to the bridge of his nose, pushing the rim of his glasses forward slightly.
"I have summoned you people here today to voice one statement, and one offer."
Excited chatter bursted through the crowd in waves, but hushed down once more to focus on the creator of Capsule Corp.
"My daughter is missing."
A gasp rang throughout the reporters before a dead silence washed over them. Tension was crackling in the air; it was almost so thick that it could be cut with a knife.
Dr. Brief ran a shaky hand through his matted hair before continuing. "We do not know who has taken her or, indeed, why. But, my grandson saw her being swept away in a large van." His blue eyes casted over to the crystal lens of a video camera, his expression worrisome and mournful. "Please, if any of you see my dear Bulma, let me, or my company know. I want her here, and home safely. There is an extensive award if any of you find her.
"That will be all," he nodded, taking a few steps away from the large group. "Thank you."
"Dr. Brief, Dr. Brief!" multiple reporters chanted, but the older man ignored them as he pivoted on his foot, walking back to the confinement of his home.
All of their voices were drones, anyway.
Nothing could fill the large, aching gap in his heart.
And, unfortunately, he could do nothing more to help his daughter than wait patiently for her return.
"Trunks, what is it?"
Trunks flicked on the light and watched his sister flinch and cover her eyes. "Bright light!" She yelled.
Trunk's lips almost twitched. Almost. "Get up."
"Why?" Bra said in a puzzled tone.
Trunk's eyes swept across the room, peering into every nook and cranny as he searched for an imaginary intruder. "We don't have any time, hurry."
For all Trunks knew, reinforcements could be on the way.
Bra blinked in rapid succession and set up, letting out a sleepy yawn as she did so. "Why'd we gotta hurry for?"
"You mean why do we got to hurry," Trunks corrected out of habit. "Now quickly, put on your slippers."
Bra's petite feet slipped into her fuzzy pink slippers with white bunny ears. "What happened?"
Tranks glanced at his pink hands, he had taken a shower and emptied an entire bottle of soap while washing his hands. But he could still imagine the warm, thick blood cascading down his hands. Trunks shuddered and shook his head. He had to focus.
"Trunks?"
That's right, Bra had asked him a question. Trunks answered without thinking. "The same guys who took Mom came back for us."
"Momma was taken?"
Trunk's azure eyes widened. Shit, could he do anything right? "Bra, you can bring your favourite teddy but only your favourite." Maybe that would distract her.
"Momma was taken!"
Trunks turned around and ruffled the distraught girl's hair. "What? Of course not, you're just hearing things."
Tears welled up in Bra's eyes and Trunks winced. She was seconds away from a complete meltdown. "What I meant to say," Trunks said slowly, racking his brain for an excuse, "is that some employees took Mom for a surprise trip."
Bra's watery eyes narrowed. "I'm not stewpid."
Trunks held out his hands in an effort to placate the small girl. "That's not what I'm saying!"
A bubble of snot dripped down Bra's face as more tears began to trickle down the girl's face. Her voice rose an octave as she yelled. "I want my Momma!"
Trunks nabbed a toy rabbit from Bra's bedside table. "Look, Mr. Snufflekins needs a hug!"
Bra slapped the toy from his hands, her face turning beetroot in colour. The girl hiccuped and then, without warning, the dams burst. "I WANT MY MOMMY!" She screamed, tears rushing down her face.
Trunks kneeled down and embraced the girl in a hug, rubbing her back and whispering consoling words in her ears. They would stay there for nearly an hour. One thought circulated through his head the entire time.
'I'm such a failure.'
Another desolate town, another wasted search. Vegeta scowled as he looked over the city searching for the deepest signs of ki from his lost wife. He couldn't seem to control the endless anger that had been welling up inside him. Each moment and each hour that passed, it continued to grow and feel like it would consume him. His talk with Dende had angered him more and the other Namekian hadn't made him feel any better. His word was absolute and he would kill anyone and everyone if it was necessary.
He had reached the outskirts of the desert by the evening, the sun slowly beginning to set over the horizon. He'd been searching the majority of the city during the day and was tired, but his anger at those that had taken Bulma and attempted to hurt his family made him forget this and continue his search for her.
All that there was were rocks and sand. Not a speck of life or buildings were anywhere to be found. He landed and scanned the area for ki.
His stomach growled, pulsating through his body as it begged for sustenance, but he ignored it. He had gone hungry for much longer under Frieza's rule.
'They must be somewhere,' he scowled as he sat on the rocks. He wiped his forehead as the sun continue to burn until setting. He took a moment to reflect upon his situation. Why had they taken her in the first place? She was a scientist, she was rich, she was beautiful… Vegeta ridiculed himself for the last comment. But it didn't seem to add up. He huffed in irritation as he continued to rack his brain for any clues of what those men could want from his family.
The prospect of vengeance, however, blocked those thoughts and Vegeta eventually stood up and continued to search for his wife.
He would take all night if he needed to.
All eternity if that was what it took.
Bulma continued to try and focus her mind but the cigarette smoke really wasn't helping. The man clad in all black had showed up half an hour ago and had begun to smoke. "Could you knock that off?" She finally snapped.
The man dropped the offending object and crushed it under his boot. "Sure thing," the mysterious man rasped, "anything for a pretty dame like you."
Bulma took a deep breath to calm yourself. "Are all the pharmaceutical companies involved or just the one?"
Her captor tilted his head to the side. "Pass."
"What is this pharmaceutical company really a front for?"
"Pass."
"How do you know what ki is?"
"Pass."
Bulma growled at the insufferable man. "Final question, do you work directly for the company or are you a third party to this kidnapping?"
The man lit up another cigarette. "I've spent a good deal of my life working here."
As Bulma processed this new information, the man turned to leave. It felt like there was lead in her stomach as she caught sight of the symbol etched onto the back of her captor's black overcoat. Two bright red R's.
The Red Ribbon Army.
The door slammed shut leaving Bulma to her thoughts. The pharmaceutical company (or all of the ones at the board meeting) was a front for the Red Ribbon Army.
She had been kidnapped by the Red Ribbon Army.
Bulma finally broke down, frustrated tears landing on the dirty floor. "Vegeta, hurry, I'm begging you."
Team Dragon Star is a group of collaborative writers who combine our efforts to bring you stories like this one. We're an open group, meaning that everyone is welcome to apply to join on our forums. It presents a great opportunity for anyone looking to better their writing skills or be apart of a writing community.