Chapter 6 - Yamcha

It's been a few minutes since the girl with the blonde hair - what was her name again? - talked about her cat. But Yamcha had stopped listening to her for a while now. Not that the subject was uninteresting; he liked cats and pretty girls. No, if he stopped listening, it was because something else had caught his attention.

At the bar, on the other side of the dance floor, two soldiers were stuffing food in their mouths the same way Goku would have done it at an all-you-can-eat buffet. Next to them, there was a third soldier. But this one was not interested in food. He was small. His black hair stood up oddly in the air. And on his face, there was an uninviting, haughty, almost vicious pout.

They were three of Frieza's soldiers, probably aliens too, with a strangely familiar appearance. Nothing could be more normal, really. And Yamcha would have quickly erased their existence from his mind if it hadn't been for the fact that this third soldier was coveting something far too precious to be ignored.

Bulma. She sat next to him, fluttering eyelashes and devastating smiles activated. She had opened the valves and was flooding this tights-clad midget with her charms. And it worked, of course. It was Bulma, after all.

Yamcha initially cringed when he saw them. These two were flirting, no doubt about it. But his relationship with Bulma was over now, so he quickly tried to focus on what the cat girl had to say, telling himself that he should mind his own business anyway. His eyes fixed on his current date, however, he had not been able to control this internal radar which allowed him to detect the energy emitted by other living beings, and he had let his mind wander towards the pair who was chatting in front of the bar.

He was a little reassured to feel Bulma's Ki, bright, lively, familiar, as usual.

Then he began to scan him.

And he automatically retched.

The problem was not his Ki level. No. From what he could read, Yamcha could easily fight this alien, especially after the progress he had made during his last training.

The problem with this Ki was that something particularly dark was emanating from it. The energy coming from this man was sinister. Anyone getting too close to his soul could easily feel themselves being sucked into what Yamcha compared to a gloomy abyss. If it had been up to him, he would have stayed very far away from this guy with questionable haircut and probably macabre intentions.

Except Bulma was there, sitting next to him, and her body language screamed seduction.

Yamcha hesitated for a long time, wondering if he should intervene. He definitely didn't want to seem like the jealous ex-boyfriend. But he knew Bulma well, and genius or not, he knew she could easily loose her mind when it came to bad boys. And whoever was with her right now was probably the epitome of a bad boy. Ex or not, he didn't really want her to pay the price of her insouciance.

Torn between feigning ignorance and playing hero, Yamcha tore his gaze from the blonde girl and risked a glance in the direction of the bar. The armored man had stood up. His hands were resting on the counter, his arms on either side of Bulma's shoulders, who was trapped in this cage of muscles.

What the hell did he think he was doing?

The vision of Bulma's frail, vulnerable body, enveloped by such dangerous arms sent a wave of heat through Yamcha's chest, and it didn't take much for him to rush in their direction, leaving the girl he had imagined taking home with him behind. He didn't care what impression he made. Bulma was his friend, and he didn't trust this weirdo she had just set her sights on. He certainly wouldn't let him take advantage of the young woman's vulnerability and as a fighter, he had to protect her.

Especially her!

His fists tightly clenched, he pushed his way through the crowd to the bar. He ignored the offended complaints of the dancers he had jostled in his haste and stood behind the armored man.

Bulma opened her eyes wide as she suddenly saw him appear in front of her. She first remained silent with surprise, but rapidly opened her mouth to utter words that he knew were not very ceremonious.

He beat her to it.

''What is happening here?'' he screamed, grabbing the soldier's arm to pull him away.

His attempt was in vain. The muscles beneath his fingers were rock hard. Holy shit... His opponent was a little stronger than he had thought.

Bulma's eyes widened a little more and surprise turned into irritation. She opened her mouth to speak, but Yamcha interrupted her again. He would have time to explain himself when the storm has passed.

''Bulma, you shouldn't hang out with him. Come with me, let's go dance.''

The soldier turned his head in his direction. Unmoved, he still hadn't tried to break away from Yamcha's grip. At this distance, the latter was satisfied to see that he was way taller than him.

''You'' he said, tightening his fingers around his forearm. ''Leave her alone. Unless you want to taste the fruit of my latest training.''

''Yamcha!'' Bulma shouted, slapping him on the shoulder. ''What's wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?''

''I just want to protect you'' he said more gently to her.

''Protect me? This guy didn't even touch me! Please, explain. What makes you think I'm a damsel in distress, exactly!?''

''Bulma, trust me, his Ki... there's something... I don't want...''

''Oh no!'' she interrupted him with her sharpest voice, which did not bode well. ''You're not going to play jealous with me tonight, Yamcha! You are getting on my nerves! You can pick up any girl, but I have to remain chaste and not talk to anyone of the opposite sex, is that right?''

She sat resolutely on her bench and took a long sip of her gin-tonic, her eyes lighting up. Bulma being reactive by nature, especially after their catastrophic separation, he didn't really see a solution. She would never agree to follow him on her own free will. If he really wanted to get her out of this mess, Yamcha was going to have to use force.

And it wasn't going to be pretty.

The man in armor chose this moment to intervene. He spoke to Bulma first.

''Woman, you wanted to dance. Now is the time'' he said. ''Go join your lousy boyfriend and leave me alone. I don't have time for your nonsense. As for you...'' he added, suddenly turning towards Yamcha, his black eyes fixed on his.

In a movement far too quick for Yamcha to do anything, the soldier freed himself from the hand that was still gripping his forearm and grabbed his wrist to reverse the situation. He took a step towards him, apparently not at all intimidated by the difference in size that separated them.

''I don't need to fight with you to know that your training is clearly insufficient, even if it is only to brush one of my hairs. Don't you dare put one of your filthy fingers on me.''

With his white-gloved hand, he began to squeeze Yamcha's already bruised wrist, who held back a cry of pain when he felt one of his bones crack. A glint of unhealthy amusement crossed the man's irises as he finished formulating his already more than credible threat.

''Or I'll tore them from you one after the other. With my teeth.''

He released him with disdain before turning his back to lean on the counter. There, without the slightest fear of being attacked by the rather large Human he had just provoked, he quietly drank his beer, enjoying each gulp that flowed down his throat. Right next to him, attracted by the altercation that had just broken out, the two other soldiers had looked up from their plates and turned towards the trio.

Even though his wrist was now officially broken, Yamcha felt relieved. Because even if Bulma hadn't heard his bones disintegrate, she hadn't failed to notice the soldier's aggressive attitude. This little demonstration of force would undoubtedly have the effect of a cold shower.

But… unfortunately for everyone around them, the legendary character of his ex-girlfriend never remained forgotten for long.

''For fuck sake!'' she cried, turning towards the man, her fists firmly planted on her hips. ''What's the matter with you?!''

She was initially ignored. But not for long, because she snatched the glass from his hands so abruptly that part of its contents spilled on the soldier's suit. He first considered the extent of the damages, then raised a face of barely contained rage to the blue storm stirring before him. Behind them, the other two soldiers stood up, sharp teeth showing.

Kami… These two were really huge.

Yamcha tensed, ready to intervene if one of them decided to come to fists, even if he was seriously starting to feel small in his shoes. But as usual, Bulma stole the show.

''Who do you think you are, asshole ?!'' she continued, pointing at the person concerned. ''You come here uninvited and you find a way to be a jerk on top of that? You're not the king here, and no one is going to roll out a red carpet for you. If you want to spend time on OUR planet, you better learn our good manners right away. So, you're going to swallow your ridiculous threats and apologize! Immediately!''

Through this long speech, the storm had transformed into a hurricane, taking with it the fury of the soldier, who now displayed a totally bewildered look. He blinked a few times, seemingly taken aback by the pride and confidence emanating from her. She was now looking at him with this haughty pout, ready to receive excuses that she could have obtained from anyone.

Behind him, a look of fear appeared on the faces of the other soldiers. Their shoulders tensed, their fists closed and their eyes riveted on their ally who remained seated. And Yamcha understood at this moment that they had probably not gotten up to start a fight, but rather to try to contain a possible explosion of rage that threatened to happen.

Suddenly suspicious and worried about what the Bulma Brief storm could have triggered in this alien with a dark soul, Yamcha grabbed the young woman's arm to pull her towards him. He hoped, through his firm grip, that she would feel the urgency that suddenly weighed in his guts.

''No Yamcha!'' she retorted immediately. ''Mind your own business! I won't move from here until I hear his answer.''

She turned back to the man and took another step in his direction. Instinctively, the two behemoths also approached.

''Well then? '' she raged. ''What are you waiting for? You're not going to sit there all evening looking at me like an…''

Yamcha didn't have the opportunity to hear the insult she was going to use, because suddenly, a deafening noise burst his eardrums, completely eclipsing the music and Bulma's roaring voice. He also felt a wave of heat envelop his body, burning the exposed skin of his face and hands. A blast followed, and he staggered to his feet. Screams, coming from everywhere, of panicked people who did not understand what had just happened rose up to replace the catchy melody that had played a few seconds earlier.

And everything around them became chaos.

An explosion. In the nightclub. And contrary to what the previous scenario suggested, it did not come from the soldier who was sitting at the bar, nor from his two disciples.

Yamcha, a seasoned fighter, came to his senses more quickly than most of the people around him. His first thought went to Bulma. He looked around for her and quickly located her a few feet away from him.

Too weak to have remained on her feet, she had been knocked down by the blast. She was half-squatting, her wobbly legs no longer able to support her. She held on to the soldier wearing the blue suit, who was still sitting on his bench, half of her body sprawled awkwardly over his. By reflex more than by cavalry, the man supported one of her shoulders to prevent her from falling further. She lifted her head towards his, and they locked gaze. Bulma's hair was crooked in her face, and Yamcha saw a few strands being blown away by her breathing which had noticeably quickened. Still stunned, she seemed to only have eyes for the one who had just caught her.

Yamcha felt his stomach turn and he growled loudly.

How could she be so fascinated by a man like him at a time like this?

''Bulma!'' Yamcha shouted, adding his voice to those of hundreds of other people.

He rushed towards her. She turned her head in his direction and after a quick glance, he saw with relief that she was intact. Yamcha took her by the arm and helped her to get on her feet, thereby forcing the pair to separate. The soldier took the opportunity to get up to better assess the situation. They had been lucky, the epicenter of the explosion was very close to the main stage, on the other side of the room.

''What is happening?'' squealed a still shocked Bulma.

Yamcha didn't have time to respond, because a second explosion rang out at that moment. And a third. He instinctively placed his arms around Bulma to secure her. Not far from them, agonizing screams began to mix with those of confusion and panic. Male voices also raised, and the contrasting calm tone of it sent shivers down his spine.

''We have not received orders yet'' said the bald soldier. ''What could possibly possess them to unload their guns right away? Fools.''

Yamcha looked at the trio. Through the smoke and dust that was beginning to envelop them, he saw the man with spiky hair take a scouter out of his suit, which he placed to his ear before turning it on. The already rather pronounced gap which permanently reigned between his eyebrows accentuated. Something was bothering him and he eagerly analyzed the data the device was transmitting to him.

''Indeed, the orders have not yet been given. Something is wrong'' he said. ''It wasn't supposed to happen like this.''

Understanding dawned on Yamcha's face.

The soldiers flocking in abundance this evening. The weapons that had been entrusted to them. And these explosions, which were coming from everywhere now. They were attacked. Frieza's army was attacking the inhabitants of Earth, and just to make it worse, it was here, in this nightclub, that the attack took place.

The location, strategic, could not have been more wisely chosen.

Yamcha, suddenly very angry, pushed Bulma away to approach the soldiers. The woman crouched under the counter, protecting her head from the debris flying in all directions. He clenched his fists and bent his knees, adopting the traditional stance that indicated to his opponents he was ready to fight.

''YOU!'' he shouted to the men. ''You guys are responsible for this attack! You won't get away with this, I won't let you! You will pay for it, you dirty monsters!''

Three pairs of black eyes rested on him. The two taller ones burst out laughing. The smaller one seemed too preoccupied by the situation to care.

''Did you hear that?'' said the tallest one. ''He wants to compete against all three of us at the same time!''

''He fell on his head during the explosion, that's for sure'' the long-haired one laughed.

He took a few steps closer, chest out and arrogant smile on his face.

''You don't know what Saiyans are. I'm going to give you a little lesson to help you understand who we are, Human. And damn'' he added, cheekily ogling him up and down ''you're not bad at all. I feel like I'm going to have fun with you.''

''Raditz!'' cut a louder voice which made everyone jump. ''We've wasted enough time with this loser. We need to focus on this shit show first.''

Yamcha clenched his fists, annoyed that someone would get rid of him like he would have done it with an annoying, disgusting fly.

''Do you really think I'm going to let you go away like that?'' he replied furiously. ''If you want to go further, you'll have to face me first!''

The smallest of the three soldiers broke away confidently from the group and covered the distance that separated them to stand in front of him. He glanced briefly at Bulma, still crouched under the bar, before locking his eyes with Yamcha's defiant ones.

A look of sadistic pleasure then softly painted on his features before he spoke.

''Nappa'' he said to one of his allies. ''It seems like this stupid Human wants to fight. Let the Saibamans take care of him, will you?''

And without any other word, he vanished into the air, leaving behind him a frustrated and very confused Yamcha.