When she opened her eyes, she found herself alone in a dimly lit room. Tubes and wires tethered her to machines, their soft, steady beeps filling the silence.
A hospital.
Her head ached and her mouth was bone-dry. She tried to sit up, a sharp pain shot through her leg, forcing her back onto the bed. Her gaze drifted down her form. From her flimsy white and blue gown to her bare arms, tracked with bruises and scrapes, to her right leg, which was wrapped in a thick cast. She had no idea how she ended up here, who she was, or why she was in such an alarming state. What happened to me?
A stranger's bloodied, bruised face hovering over hers, features lined with worry as he held her in a nest of twisted metal, rock and shattered glass. The scent of smoke and copper. The body of a man, whom she could only describe as alien, bloody faced, staring lifelessly into nothing.
The startling sight of what appeared to be a dragon circling above.
And then, that inexplicable flash of light.
In an instant, the world around her had shifted, morphing from a dystopian nightmare into a sleek, modern city. People of all walks of life materialized out of nowhere, seamlessly resuming their mundane everyday activities as if the war-torn reality had been a figment of her imagination.
That was the last thing she remembered before it all went dark.
Her thoughts raced as she grappled with the surreal images etched into her memory. They felt like fragments from a dream, too bizarre to be true. Yet, the vividness lingered, filling her with a sense of unease.
Did I… imagine it all?
The rhythmic beeping by her bedside intensified momentarily. Her gaze flicked to the monitor beside her bed. A series of lines floated across the screen in zig-zag patterns, monitoring her heart rate.
An overwhelming feeling of anxiety sank into the hollow pit of her stomach like a heavy stone. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic within her. The sound of approaching footsteps broke her chain of thought.
"—soft and weak during these times of peace! It's an embarrassment!"
"I'd like to point out that you got bodied just like everyone else, your highness."
"Bold talk. I don't recall seeing your scarred face on the battlefield until the fighting was finished."
"Hey, calm down, it's over, everyone is okay now—"
"Not everyone. Need I remind you that my daughter can't recall her own name!? I warned you, Kakarot. I warned you that resurrecting that monster would come back to haunt us all one day. Your stupidity nearly cost both of us our second born!—"
"Vegeta stop it. That kind of talk isn't helping anything." A feminine voice scolded, sounding more tired than angry.
"Tch." The voices fell silent as heavy footsteps receded into the distance.
"I'm sorry he's… he's just taking this really hard." The woman said. Bulla didn't catch the rest of the exchange as a fresh wave of isolation washed over her. Those brief snippets of conversation left her with more questions than answers. The voices faded away, leaving her to her thoughts until the door creaked open and light spilled into the room.
A man stepped inside.
He raised a hand to the dial beside the doorway to adjust the lights. He had silky looking lavender hair that fell into intense slate-colored eyes, one of which was blackened and swollen. His features had a sternness to them, but when he spoke, his words were soft. "You're awake. How do you feel? Do you need anything?"
How did she feel? She was feeling quite a lot at the moment. Lost. Tired. Confused. Frustrated. None of those things were easily remedied at present. And she wasn't about to unload on this stranger.
After a beat, she licked her lips and said, "water."
He nodded, disappearing through the door. He returned a few minutes later with a tall glass and pitcher.
She took the glass he extended to her, gratefully gulping down every drop before refilling it once more.
He took a seat in the chair beside her bed. "Better?"
She gave a slight nod.
An uneasy quietness settled between them. She pondered whether to broach the subject of her current state with the man next to her. He seemed to be familiar with her. Familiar enough to enter her room while she slept, apparently. Perhaps they were close.
"Can you… tell me why I can't remember anything?"
He took her empty glass and placed it on the rolling cart opposite him."If I had to guess, I'd say it has something to do with this." He touched a finger to his temple.
Without thinking, she mirrored the action, feeling a thick bandage and gauze beneath her fingers. There was a dull throbbing there, but it wasn't terrible. She suspected that was thanks to one of the many, many tubes she was hooked up to. "How did it happen?"
His gaze dropped to the floor, studying his shoes intently. He mulled the question over for a beat, as if he were debating whether he should answer. "You were… hurt by someone."
His words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. She searched his face, but his expression remained guarded, revealing nothing more than what he had already said.
"'Hurt by someone'?"she repeated, her tone barely above a whisper."Do you know who did it? Or why?"
He nodded slowly; his eyes still fixed on the floor. "Yes." he admitted, his voice tinged with sadness. "Look, I know you must have a hundred questions, it's probably best if we don't answer them all at once. I just… I don't want you to get overwhelmed. I think it's best if you get some rest. We'll figure out what happens next after you see the doctor in the morning."
No. No, that wasn't acceptable at all. She yearned for clarity, a straightforward explanation that would untangle the mess of confusion swirling in her mind.
Just when her frustration threatened to boil over, his slate-colored eyes lifted to meet hers. Tentatively, he reached out, enveloping her small hand with his larger one. "Bulla, I know you're confused and afraid. But I promise you're safe now, and everything is going to be okay." He squeezed her hand, offering her a small, reassuring smile.
Bulla… That was her name? It seemed strange as she mentally repeated it to herself, resisting the urge to do so out loud. Buhl-uh. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not. She turned her attention back to the man beside her, suddenly realizing she hadn't bothered to learn his.
"What is your name?"
The smile immediately melted from his face. "… It's Trunks. I'm your older brother."
"Oh," she swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry I…"
He shook his head. "You don't have to apologize, it's okay."
Despite the words of reassurance, his disappointment was palpable. The weight of the sadness reflected in his eyes made her feel utterly wretched, a sense of guilt and helplessness washing over her. She could tell he cared a great deal for her… Or the person she was? She felt like she should say something, but she didn't want to say the wrong thing and add to his pain.
A soft knocking sound broke the heavy silence between them, and Trunks released her hand. "I'll be right back."
Bulla nodded as he made his way toward the door and slipped outside, leaving it slightly ajar.
"Hey man." Her brother greeted.
"I remembered I had one last Senzu bean stashed away at my place. Figured Bulla needs it more than me."
That voice. She recognized it.
"Thanks, man. I really appreciate that. Are you gonna get checked out while you're here too?"
"No, I'm fine," came the reply, steady and assured.
"After what happened today... you probably should," Trunks pressed.
"I said I'm fine. Good as new, actually," the other voice insisted.
"Somehow I doubt that," Trunks remarked before closing the door with a soft click. "Thank you... not just for this... but for what you did out there. It was a stupid thing to do, but..." Trunks' voice trailed off.
"You would have done the same. She… really remembers nothing at all?"
"No, nothing." Trunks confirmed. "She's been resting, but she's awake right now. Do you want to see her for a second?"
"No." the other man quickly declined. "I mean, not right now. I need to let my mom know that I'm alright. But I'll be around."
"Okay. Are you sure you're alright?" Concern laced Trunks' voice.
"I'm fine. Really."
"If you say so. I guess I'll see you later, and I'll give Bulla your love."
Trunks opened the door. Over his shoulder, she spied a familiar face. It was him. It was the man from before. He was taller than her brother by at least a foot, if not more. Without the blood and dirt, she could see now that his features were defined yet soft, minus a few bruises and scrapes. His jawline was strong and chiseled, his inky black hair boyishly tousled. His dark eyes, though they were lined with circles, had a striking warmth to them.
Their gazes met for a split second, and in that brief exchange, his eyes flickered with something strange and almost… sad? She didn't have time to linger on it before her brother shut the door behind him.
Trunks offered her a small smile as he made his way back to her bedside.
"Who was that?" Bulla asked, unable to stop herself.
"A friend," Trunks replied, his voice gentle. "He came by to give you this."
He extended his hand, palm up, revealing a small green oval shaped… bean? Bulla gingerly took it between her thumb and forefinger, examining it skeptically.
"It's a Senzu bean. It'll make you feel better... Well, physically at least," Trunks explained.
"You want me to… eat this?" She tried and failed to keep the hint of uncertainty out of her voice.
"You don't have to, but I would prefer it if you did." Trunks rubbed a hand tiredly over his face.
"Really? You expect me to believe that this is some kind of magic bean?"
The lavender haired man chuckled, sinking back into his seat. "Kind of. Try it and find out."
Bulla pondered for a moment before asking, "Will it help me remember?"
Her brother shook his head. "I don't think so. It doesn't really work like that," he explained gently.
Bulla sighed. Of course, it wouldn't be that simple.
After a moment of contemplation, she decided to trust him and popped the Senzu bean into her mouth. Almost immediately, all the aches and pains in her body seemed to fade away, replaced by a newfound sense of vitality.
The next morning brought a series of events that felt like a whirlwind for Bulla. After eating breakfast with Trunks the next morning, a woman with short teal hair visited her, the shade a near perfect match to her own, her mother. Her father, a short muscular man with wild dark hair, accompanied her. He had the same stern features as her elder brother. With them was a doctor in a crisp white coat who didn't seem the least bit surprised that her leg and head wound were completely healed as she removed her cast and bandages.
Her father was an odd man. Very… aloof. He hadn't uttered a single word throughout any of it. Not to her mother, the doctor, or herself. In fact, he refused to so much as meet her gaze, opting to lean against the opposite wall. Staring out the window with an expression so severe she was almost glad he wouldn't look at her.
After being subjected to a series of tests, including MRI and CT scans, coupled with a barrage of questions, none of which she could answer left her feeling drained. She was all too happy when her mother said she would be returning 'home' to finish her recovery. To her surprise, home wasn't that far.