"A man's spirit is free, but his pride binds him with chains of suffocation in a prison of his own insecurities." - Jeremy Aldana

Out in the comforts of my favorite part in the backyard of the compound, I stood inside the Gravity Room at the very center, now dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts and sneakers. For the last couple of hours I had spent my time in a raging duel with an invisible enemy, who was apparently extremely resilient. I threw jab after jab, kick after kick, muscles rippling beneath sweat soaked skin, all in the effort to thwart an all too familiar feeling that was causing an tightness in his chest that was unfamiliar to me at the time. Envy.

Envious of what exactly, I wasn't entirely sure.

I had only ever secretly directed this particular emotion toward that moronic disgrace of a Saiyan, Kakarot. There was a rational reason for feeling such a way; the idiot had achieved where generations of far more deserving Saiyans never even came close to reaching, and with such ease that it use to make me sick to my stomach with the thought.

So why was this feeling all of a sudden resurfacing now?

I began throwing a savage combination of punches at the air.

Earlier that day at lunch, during my conversation with the woman, I was disrupted when her cell phone rang and she politely excused herself to answer the call. I had been absolutely fine with waiting, understanding that her position could demand her attention at any given point and that she would be right back. So why did me remembering her take that call give me this feeling? Surely it had nothing to do with whom was on the other end of said phone call. Surely.

The conversation immediately sounded like one of a personal nature, but since I was aware that she had a very friendly way of speaking to most people I didn't initially mind. I tried to busy himself with watching the boy as he ate, or rather as he smeared his dessert all over his face in his attempts to eat. As I handed the child a napkin, it was in this particular instance that I had considered that there may be some reason for why the woman was correct in her beliefs that he wasn't ready for certain things. Something I never gave her the satisfaction of admitting to.

At one moment as I discreetly listened in on her call, she mentions something about a visit and if there was a reason for it. What followed on her end made it sound like a matter of business that would take place during the weekend, that was until she finally uttered a name. It was a name that I hadn't heard leave her mouth for quite some time up until that point. I, myself, never really gave the inferior weakling much thought, still don't, forever seeing him as unfit to be the gravel beneath my boots. But the fact that Bulma was planning to meet with the weakling caused confusion about why.

Once she returned to the table and resumed our conversation, I was no longer in the mood to discuss her frivolous suspicions about what happened to that field the other night. As she spoke, I saw that she had no intentions of mentioning what she was discussing with her former lover and it caused anger to arise in my chest, but that was on account of her behaving oblivious towards the situation. So, at which point did I see a reason to be envious? And of whom?

As I contemplated an answer, my invisible opponent took a familiar form. I let out a growl similar to that of a feral dog as I threw one last jab, imagining putting my fist through its skull. The red light of the chamber intensifying the atmosphere of my session. With a grunt, I dropped my stance and inhaled deeply then slowly exhaling, calming myself. I walked over to the bench beside the control panel to grab a towel and proceeded to dry my sweaty torso.

I sighed in frustration over my emotions. Why was I feeling this way? I didn't have an answer to that at the time.

Suddenly, the voice of Bulma's mother cut through the pregnant silence. "Vegeta, dear, are you out back?"

I reluctantly reached over and pressed the button on the intercom. "What is it?"

"Oh good, there you are. I've been looking all over for you," she told me, relieved for some reason.

"What is it?" I repeated.

"Well, I was looking my garden over and realized that I have a little over 1,200 square feet to play with near the produce section, which, by the way, is growing so lovely might I add-"

"Please tell me that's not the point of this," I interrupted before she could begin her rambling. I tolerated so many of her little quirks most of the time, but right then I was in no mood to listen to her go on and on about her beloved garden.

"Of course not, dear,"

I rubbed a hand down my face. "Then can you get to the point," I impatiently groaned. One of her little quirks was her proclivity for blathering at any given moment.

"Well, as I was looking at the open space, I was thinking about what I should do with it and I wanted to know if Bulma would like to give me a hand with it," she explained.

I draped the towel over my shoulders. "I still don't understand why you were looking for me. Just go speak to your insufferable daughter,"

"That's just the thing, I don't know where she is. Last I heard she was on her way to lunch with you and Trunks," she explained, the sound of metal clinking in the background indicating that she was preparing something in the kitchen. "You wouldn't happen to you know where she could be, would you?"

I sighed deeply. "She's in East City with her cousin," I plainly said.

"Why would she be there?"

I took a seat on the bench. "She said something came up. That's all I know," I used the towel to wipe my sweaty forehead and hair.

"Alright then, I suppose I'll just give her a call. Thank you, dear,"

The room went silent, save for the soft hum emitting from the room itself. I leaned forward on my legs and bowed my head. I was trying to get the events of the day off of my mind by pushing my physical limits, and to an extent it had worked, but then all of my hard work had become a moot point with the mere mention of her.

"Vegeta, are you still there?" the woman's voice came back less than a minute later.

I pressed the button once more. "What is it now?" I rubbed at my temple.

"I just spoke with Van, she said that Bulma did come by..."

"As I told you,"

"...but she left the office nearly two hours ago," she finished.

I perked up at this. "Are you certain she hasn't made it back?" I asked calmly. "She could be upstairs with the boy,"

"I checked with Trunks before you. She isn't here, and the worst part is that her cellphone keeps going straight to voicemail so I can't reach her," there was a slight worrying tone to her voice, extremely contrasted versus her usual cheery demeanor.

I knew that she wanted to be back in time to put the boy to bed. My jaw clenched and my fingers unconsciously tightened around the linen on my shoulders. It never took her that long to get from there to here. I cleared my throat. "She could just be busy," I said, more for myself than her.

"You could be right, but would you mind going to check up on her for me?"

I closed my eyes in thought for a moment. Maybe something had happened. I decided to check for myself, just to be sure. I opened my eyes and stared straight ahead. "Will you leave me be if I do this?" I wanted to sound as uninterested about the scientist as I possibly could, but I knew the truth.

"It would definitely put me at ease. Thank you, dear,"

I pressed the button on the intercom to end the conversation, and without a reply I stood, switched off the room before grabbing a t-shirt and exiting. I stepped out into the night, the cool air soothing my tense muscles. I turned my head up towards the star filled sky, taking a moment to remember which direction I would embark and took off.

As I soared through the night, I couldn't help but think of how I had gotten myself in this situation. When did my relationship with Bulma actually become a relationship? When we began our tryst a few years prior, I had been more than willing to participate, even though it was not the wisest decision on her part. She was a month out of her relationship with the weakling and was probably in a place of vulnerability, but I held no remorse for what she was going through. I was only in it to sate my primal thirst. I was openly using her, and she admitted to doing the same with me, and neither of us held the other to any such agreements beyond that of our frequent romps. Our meet ups were always filled with uncontested passion, a passion that would take hold like an addict's poison, only to release us once our bodies were spent from giving in to our most basic of instincts.

Nearly a year in, she began behaving distantly, almost as if she didn't want to be around me anymore, so the physical aspect of our acquaintanceship receded, as did my interest in her. She became standoffish and temperamental, even more so than usual, and it wasn't until weeks after her avoiding me did I finally find out why.

I was looking for her around the compound, sensing for her, when I unintentionally discovered a separate life source coming from within her body. She was with child and, judging from the strength of the embryo, it was mine, and she hadn't told me. I had no clue how to handle such a thing, so when the time came for me to find a better method of reaching my goal of becoming a Super Saiyan, I chose the most extreme.

My decision was made before finding out about the pregnancy, but the fact that she wasn't willing to inform me about it made it much easier to leave. I was genuinely hurt by her actions. Upon my return, I was greeted by my casual lover...and our son.

We chose not to continue where we left off, and instead decided to focus only on preparing for the upcoming threat, then maybe discuss how we would handle our little situation. I was completely fine with this, that is until Yamcha crept his way back into the picture. After he, unsurprisingly, became incapacitated after a run in with the androids, he began spending a bit too much of his time around the woman, much to the annoyance of me. After the threat had been dissipated, I took it upon myself to force the weakling away from my offspring and out of my life. By spending more of my time with the woman and child, I unintentionally reignited the flames of our passionate coupling, only this time I was in it for other reasons.

Maybe this is where my feelings of envy were coming from; being aware that her ex was still in her life. Or maybe it was simply the thought of another man being close to her at all. That has never really changed about me.

As I idly flew over the city, it was mere minutes later that I spotted smoke billowing in the air in the middle of the park a few miles from the compound. My heartbeat was like a snare drum against my ribcage as I floated downward.

I landed about twenty feet away and slowly walked forward. I assumed that no one had been alerted to this on account of it being covered up by the trees in the park and the night itself. Already I could see that it was a vehicle, or use to be. I got closer and my eyes widened with shock when I spotted the all too familiar logo on the side of the vessel, the same vessel that Bulma had been driving earlier that day. My stomach dropped as I rushed forward, ignoring the toxic smoke, and looked inside.

I saw nothing except the briefcase and bag that she had with her.

I whipped around and scanned the area, trying to get a hold of myself. "Bulma!" I called out, but no one answered. I took a deep breath to focus before sensing around the surrounding area. I was sensing many things, but none of them were my target. I got a break when a weak life source made itself known. "Bulma!" I bursts in the direction of the ki signature with determination, only to find that she was a mere hundred feet away from the wreckage.

I found her on a burnt patch of grass in the supine position with her face turned away from my view. She had the appearance of a slumbering angel with the moonlight showering her form.

I was quickly at her side. "Bulma," I gently shook her, but she did not react. "Bulma, can you hear me?" I gingerly reached down and turned her face toward me, and the movement awakened her.

Her eyes fluttered but remain concealed by her lids. "Veg-ta..." she murmured .

"I'm here, don't worry," I carefully scooped her into my arms.

"'Geta..." her eyes came open as she tried again, trying to lift her arm to supposedly point.

I ignored her actions. "Don't try to speak. I saw the jet. I'm going to take you home now, alright?" I said, slowly taking to the air, neglecting to see what, or rather whom she was attempting to point at that was standing only a few feet away from where I had just found her.

I was crouched over the unconscious woman and stroked her face in a gingerly manner, careful not to disrupt her slumber. "You have no idea how long I have waited for this opportunity, and now I will fulfill my mission and so much more," I told her. "And you will be the key to securing that," I lifted one of her hands to my lips and placed a kiss to the back. "I hope that you will find some way to forgive me for my actions,"

Suddenly, a voice shouted out your name. "Bulma!"

I looked over to find none other than the savage himself, frantically searching.

I leaned down and placed a kiss upon her forehead. "We will meet again, I promise you this," I vowed before getting up and calmly walking away to stand beside a tree.

I watched from the covers of the night as the foul Saiyan picked up the woman. The woman's eyes opened and made contact with my own, and they became panicked right away. But the Saiyan flew away with her before she could bring attention to the fact that I was standing right behind them.

I watched the pair float away. My cards had been laid and the game could only get more interesting from there.

I walked over to the wreckage and picked up a rather long piece of glass and stared upon my reflection. It was time to adapt.