Tangled Up in Blue
Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ/GT, while the culture and details of Souljin are mine, the name belongs to Majin_Angel_Chan.
Author's Note: Long time no see! Incredibly humbled by all the lovely feedback I've been given for this fic. Everyone's patience is appreciated as work has been busy as has life in general. If you can believe it, we're getting close to the halfway point! Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd stick to a multi-chapter fic, but here we are! Thank you all again.
Playlist Recommendations: Blue, You Always Run, Sometime Around Midnight, Touching Yourself
Chapter 13: If I Burned
Bulla couldn't sleep.
She supposed she could have blamed it on how hot the evening air was that night, or that she wasn't in the bed she had grown used to at home. No, this restlessness was not due to discomfort nor homesickness. There was only one cause for her troubled mind.
Him.
Her dreamless state brought the heiress out onto the main terrace past the royal wing. A solo midnight trek in an attempt to get Son Goten out of her mind, which proved to be fruitless. Returning to the same spot from earlier in the evening likely didn't help, but Bulla was fond of the location. Different from the ballroom's veranda, it had a distinct view of both the menagerie and water gardens. There was more flora and vegetation along the balcony's edge, with ivy-coated palace walls at her back. Against the tops of the marbled columns, the deep sage color stood out.
Her grandmother's garden back home always brought Bulla a sense of peace. Were matters simpler, she was certain this spot could do the same. Yet, her heart pulsed with both frustration and disappointment. Even the serenity of view before her couldn't seem to ease her troubles.
Bulla leaned over the railing, staring once again at Raimu and Runa above. The last time she did so, the princess wished upon them desperately she'd have clarity on her situation with Goten. When they ended up in the water gardens that night, Bulla was convinced her prayers were answered. Nevertheless, as the evening ended with her alone in her bed, she was more confused than ever.
Perhaps, she sadly surmised, her wish fell on deaf ears.
The clicking of heels against the tiled ground made Bulla shift in place. She hardly expected company at this late hour, but was relieved when a familiar face graced her.
"You know," the regal voice of Princess Hinoki filled the night air, "an old Souljin's Wives' Tale is that if you gaze upon the two moons long enough, you'll be blessed with twins."
The words managed to wrangle out a small chuckle from the other princess. "Now there's a thought," she retorted back, amusingly contemplating the possibility.
Bulla observed an almost sleeping Kail resting in his mother's arms, her touch gentle and calming. The Saiyan Princess remembered when her own mother would do the same for her on restless nights. Standing right beside the bluette now, Hinoki continued the conversation. "Couldn't sleep either?" she wondered. "Neither could Kail. Nothing seems to tire him out better than a late night stroll."
"He's lucky to have you there to help," Bulla said with a soft smile. The upturned corners of her mouth quickly faded back into a flat line, the heiress still struggling with the emotions brewing beneath.
"What troubles you, dear?" Hinoki asked.
"It's nothing," Bulla answered back all too quickly.
The older woman started to open her mouth, but paused before doing so. Bulla felt a bit of remorse at not opening up, although Hinoki appeared more pensive than slighted. The Princess-Consort's attention turned to the moons overhead before glancing at Kail in her arms.
"When Kusa and I were struggling to conceive Kail," the Princess-Consort trailed off as she gazed down at her son. "I would stare up at Raimu and Runa and plead with them to look down upon us favorably."
There was a reflectiveness to her tone that was impossible to miss. Bulla refocused her attention towards the older woman as Hinoki went on. "I told them I didn't even need twins, one child would be enough," the Souljin Princess remarked. "It took seven years of trying and failing many times. I had nearly given up hope, until during one of their rare eclipses, I got so overwhelmed I had to lie down. What I thought was simply my stomach disagreeing with me turned out to be a viable pregnancy."
Bulla couldn't help but be taken with the fondness in Hinoki's voice. It had been evident from the start how much she cherished her son, but the Saiyan Princess was touched to know the depths of that devotion. "I'm glad you were able to have that wish come true, Hinoki," Bulla said with genuine affection.
The Princess-Consort stroked her fading child's bangs as she leaned in a bit closer. "Tell me," she began again, "what do you wish for, Bulla?"
The question gave Bulla pause. Not for lack of an answer, but for fear of admitting it. Were she in a better mood, the heiress would have no problem acknowledging, but trepidation ate at her. Hinoki's genuine concern for her, however, made Bulla want to respond. She inhaled sharply through her nose, sighing out the exhale moments later.
"Since I was a child, every wish upon a star, on a birthday cake, and even these moons…it's always been the same," the halfling whispered, nearly to herself. Those cobalt orbs pierced through the evening light to look at Hinoki. "I've only ever truly wanted one thing," Bulla confessed with earnestness.
A wry smile formed on the pureblood Soulan's face. "One thing?" she asked curiously. Hinoki's smile expanded. "Or one person?"
Loosening her grip on the marbled column, Bulla focused her attention downwards. "It doesn't matter," the bluette answered in a hushed voice. Another sigh passed her lips. "I can't force anyone to want me," Bulla added sadly.
The heiress felt the Souljin Princess grip her hand in a show of support. It was apparent the tenderness in her eyes, and Hinoki had this magical way of putting the younger woman more at ease than before. "Bulla," she began again, "from the moment I met you there was…this aura about you. An innate quality that's hard to miss. It was striking."
Bulla offered a weak chuckle behind closed teeth. "My 'Saiyan Princess juju' as my brother affectionately calls it," she explained.
"Whatever it may be," Hinoki returned with a light laugh, "you, my dear, are exceptional. Many see it."
The Souljin royal leaned in. "Including Son Goten," she added.
At the mention of that name, the aquamarine irises of her companion flickered. "I appreciate the kind words, Hinoki," Bulla said graciously, "yet, I don't think it's enough. Seeing me is one thing but…"
Bulla trailed off with a defeated countenance. "He's convinced himself that he isn't allowed to be with me," she continued with a saddened tone. "Honestly, he's starting to convince me too."
It was hard to hide the disappointment on her face and in her voice. Bulla stared directly at the Princess-Consort, whose own countenance looked pained at the younger woman's grief. "Oh Bulla," she soothed, extending her free arm for a hug. The other princess accepted the gesture, but the heaviness in her chest still weighed her down. As Hinoki continued to soothe her, Bulla remained in place. Though the Soulan couldn't change the circumstances, her efforts to comfort made the bluette feel less alone.
Bulla's aqua eyes peered over to Kail, now fully asleep. The princess was almost jealous of how peaceful he must have felt, but she took solace in the fact that at least one of them could rest.
She knew that until she was able to see Goten again, sleep would not come easy.
-=-=-
The next day…
"What, no quips today, Prince Trunks?"
Notably preoccupied, the demi-Saiyan raised his head in Prince Kusa's direction. He had been remarkably silent their entire training session, and the Souljin Heir was quick to observe the change, even if he hadn't known the other man that long.
"Oh?" Trunks said, half-distracted still.
Prince Kusa knocked Trunks' sword down with no resistance. It took a second for Trunks to even register the move, blinking once he noticed his hands were bare. "Now, that isn't difficult for me to do when you are paying attention, but it was quite easier given your head up in the clouds. Pray tell, what plagues your mind?" Kusa wondered.
Fully in focus, Trunks bent over to pick up his weapon, avoiding the question. "It's nothing," he answered quickly. He returned to a defensive stance, more present than before.
"Nothing?" the Prince-Consort replied.
"Nothing," Trunks repeated.
Kusa made a face but did not push the matter further. "Fine," he continued, "let's move on. But do try to make some effort, Prince Trunks. I told the council to carry on without me today for your sake."
Trunks modulated his position. "Wait," he said with a blink, "why would you do that?"
The older man shut his eyes and sighed, sheathing his sword for the moment. "You need the extra help," Kusa answered, matter-of-factly. "And besides, I thought today you might also need—"
He stopped himself, clearing his throat as Trunks cocked an eyebrow.
"Need what?" the half-Saiyan wondered.
With his hand still folded into a fist near his mouth, Prince Kusa's eyeline darted towards the top of the ramparts. It had been where Trunks was looking earlier; a sole blonde in a sea of dark-haired Souljins and Saiyans. Marron was hooked around Zasso's arm as they congregated with Uub, Pan, and a handful of Zasso's companions. Echoes of faint laughter filled the yard and Trunks wasn't blind to how she moved towards the Souljin Prince with each chuckle. His nose twitched before removing his focus from the sight, instead, seeking solace elsewhere on the ground.
Kusa cleared his throat once again. "A distraction," he finished.
Trunks' jaw tightened. "Doesn't matter," the hybrid spoke. The distant humors of his friends were almost taunting. It was useless to dwell, his mind reasoned, and Trunks avowed to focus on the task at hand. He readied himself again until, unexpectedly, Kusa's words dawned on the younger man. Trunks' energy shifted. "Kusa," he continued, "you were…trying to distract me?"
The Souljin Heir's mouth tucked in the corner of his face. His concentration fell to removing his sword again from its case. He either lacked the words or preferred the silence, but Trunks pressed on.
"Because you knew if I wasn't, that would make me upset," the halfling added.
The pieces of the puzzle were coming together. Despite Kusa's tough veneer, there was a layer of consideration there. While the thought that the Prince-Consort had some semblance of concern surprised Trunks, he was appreciative of it nonetheless.
"Subtlety is a lost art on you, Saiyans," Kusa chastised. "My observation was novice. A monkey could pick up on the nuances. "
Trunks held a chuckle in his throat. "You're still part-monkey, you know," he teased.
Prince Kusa didn't seem to like the joke, but even his sullen expression lightened. "Let's just make the most out of the time we have, Prince Trunks," he insisted. "I should hate for my efforts to be in vain."
All of a sudden, his sword was knocked from his hands. Kusa's green eyes broadened with disbelief, unsure at first what had occurred. In the background, a smirking Trunks stood more confidently as he enjoyed the reaction. Even the Souljin Prince could not deny the younger man had caught him off guard.
"Don't worry, Prince Kusa, they won't be."
Vegeta, for the first time in his life, regretted his station as a prince.
Whereas power and fear fueled his ambitions, politics did not. Sitting at the large table for the Souljin Council, the prater at the table bored him to no end. He wondered, had Planet Vegeta survived, if perhaps he would have been more receptive to the art of politicking. But years earthside, a prince in name and nothing else, Vegeta had little patience for it. His facial expression made this clear enough, as did his lack of conversation throughout the meeting, but still, others made their attempts to include him in the process.
Much to his annoyance.
"What say you, Prince Vegeta?"
Engei's booming timbre brought Vegeta out of his thoughts. A grunt worked its way behind the Saiyan Prince's closed mouth. "Pardon?" he said with his usual sternness.
"The formal balls on Vegeta-Sei," Engei continued, "do you remember them?"
Vegeta shifted in his seat. He hadn't paid enough attention to the conversation at hand to understand the segue, but nevertheless, the prince gave his answer. "Vaguely," he said, "I was a child."
"They were quite a spectacle!" King Engei added fondly. "I'll never forget the time your grandfather invited all of Souljin to attend. Barely sixteen I was, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I've yet to see a feast to rival the size of that spread!"
It was clear the recollection held dear to the king, and Vegeta, for all his wonted broodiness, was less agitated than usual. The realization that soon he'd be the only one with memories of a time gone by stuck with him. There was comfort in knowing at least someone else shared them, if only for a little while longer.
An agitated scoff disrupted the poignancy and King Engei's attention turned to its source.
"Lord Budou," King Engei acknowledged. "Speaking of spectacles, you were missed at the ball the other night," the elder Souljin continued. "I do hope you are in good health."
Lord Budou, a man with a thin face and a whisper of a mustache, twisted his lips into a pursed state. He did not possess a tail, which made Vegeta believe the dour Lord wasn't Souljin. There were few people that the Saiyan Prince liked in general, but almost instantly, Vegeta knew he really didn't care for this councilman.
Clearing his throat, Lord Budou replied in a flat tone, "I must not have realized what a grand affair you were throwing, Engei."
The lack of etiquette in his timbre was telling, something that did not go unnoticed by General Taikan.
"Lord Budou," Taikan interjected, "you should give our king proper veneration. Your familiarity is inappropriate. Council decorum and all."
A tenuous sneer followed. "Always so quick to lecture, Taikan," Budou quipped. "I'm surprised the university hasn't made use of your talents," the lord added. He cleared his throat, interrupting any potential protest from the general. "My apologies, Your Highness, I figured since we were small chatting about paltry Saiyan matters of all things, that we were done for the day."
Oh yes, Vegeta really did not care for this man.
King Engei stared down the opposition in the room, respectfully, yet full of command. He tipped his head. "Perhaps, today, it makes more sense to end early," he responded. "My sons were all unavailable to attend anyhow, and I do appreciate their perspectives on council matters."
Boudou chuckled quietly. "Ah yes, where would we be without Kusa's sunny disposition? Or Zasso's bold ideas? I suppose, at least, we are used to Toge not gracing us with his presence already…"
"Boudou," General Taikan cut him off, finally responding. "Since it sounds like we are finishing up, why don't I escort you out? Your gate is on my way to the barracks, after all."
Lord Boudou eyed King Engei, expecting a remark out of the royal, but all he offered was a look of entertainment. The bushy eyebrow of the king perked up, an indication that following General Taikan's orders would be wise. With that silent confirmation, Boudou stood down while standing up.
"If you must."
"I insist."
Taikan's impossibly tall form dwarfed the much smaller Lord Boudou as he led them out into the hall. The rest of the council rose up after them as King Engei waved to dismiss. As the group congregated together with polite conversation, and a little quiet gossip, Engei brought up the rear. His social battery already drained, Vegeta, instead, decided to avoid the crowd and made his way out to the small, adjacent terrace for some solitude.
Or so he thought.
"Something on your mind, Prince Vegeta?"
King Engei joined his cousin on the balcony, having taken notice of the prince's brief disappearance. Vegeta barely acknowledged the king, the more stoic man still looking out into the castle yard. He grunted much like he always did; in his opinion, Engei was either a weakling or a fool to tolerate that sort of disrespect from a subject. That part he kept to himself, but he posed another question.
"Why do you allow such a man on your council?" Vegeta asked the king. "Such insolence would result in far worse on Planet Vegeta."
King Engei paused, dipping his head in consideration before a heavy sigh unleashed. "Cousin, were it so simple," he began. The king used the railing for support as he continued to speak.
"I do not have the luxury of being selective based on clashing personalities. Budou is far from congenial, but the man is well-respected in his circles for his forthrightness and even more so, he hails from an ancient Soulan dynasty. His perspective is needed, even if I disagree with the manner he presents it in."
"The perspective of being an inferior species?" Vegeta muttered.
King Engei motioned with his hands. "Most of Souljin is a blend of Soulan and Saiyan blood, so usually there are no qualms about that, but some of the Soulans have their opinions, nonetheless."
"Tch," Vegeta scoffed. "You're the king. Are you not?"
"I am."
"Surely, you can command respect from someone if need be."
The king let out a surprising chortle. "Tell me," Engei replied, almost entertained by Vegeta's grievance. "Were he your subject, how would you handle such a person?"
Another hmph left Vegeta's throat. "The only way to handle impudence is to root it out at the source," he said sharply.
"And when that is not an option?"
"It is always an option, Engei."
King Engei rested his eyes, enjoying the late afternoon sun on his face. His tail wrapped around himself. The quietness between the two grew longer, with the king taking his time before offering a response. "I was not first in line for the throne initially, you know," he revealed to his Saiyan counterpart. "Second son of a second son, remarkable odds. It came at the cost of my older brother's premature death, which I'm sure also led my father earlier to his grave, too," Engei shared.
Though his signature glare remained, Vegeta's eyes did soften.
"I've had to make some tough calls over the years. Most of them were probably horrible, I'll wager," he joked, "but I gather I've learned a thing or two. Ruling requires sacrifice but it also requires openness to different opinions."
"Maybe it makes me sound less of a Saiyan descendent, but if I can avoid senseless fighting, I will always try to."
"To be expected, with your diluted blood and all."
King Engei smiled politely, offering a beat of silence as he reflected on a response. "Does it bother you?" he wondered genuinely. "I'm sure you'd have much preferred the existence of purebred Saiyans still somewhere out there, of course."
Vegeta remained quiet, letting his expression answer for him.
"I also wish it were so," the king replied in a whisper. "Nevertheless," he resumed, "I'm grateful you are here, Prince Vegeta. Your viewpoint on matters is refreshing."
The sincerity stunned Vegeta, and though he did not reply, Engei seemed to know he struck a chord with the Saiyan Prince.
"Father! Prince Vegeta!"
Their attention turned to two figures in the distance closing in. It became apparent that it was Zasso approaching. His arm was linked around Marron's, a detail not lost on Vegeta. King Engei also noticed the closeness and showed a comforting smile. "Lady Marron," he greeted kindly, "I'm glad your sunny presence is filling our palace with warmth."
"Thank you, Your Highness," Marron said, tipping her head in respect.
"A treat to see you and my son getting on so well," Engei said in a cheeky tone. Marron blushed and looked at the ground, and Vegeta almost rolled his eyes at the display.
"Believe me, Father, no one is more delighted than I am," Zasso said, tightening his grip around her. King Engei beamed at the two before refocusing on his son.
"We ended early today, Zasso," he said.
"Ah, a shame," Zasso remarked. "We lost track of time. Here, I had hoped to give Lady Marron some insight into the council's innerworkings."
"A fine idea," Engei acknowledged, smiling once again at the Earthling. "You're welcome any day, my dear."
Marron tugged on Zasso's arm. "Another time," she suggested. Zasso smiled back before returning his attention to the king.
"There was a matter I wanted an update on, still…if you've the time, Father."
"Certainly, just one moment."
King Engei placed his hand on Vegeta's shoulder. "Thank you again for your contributions, Prince Vegeta," he said before heading over to his son. "Come Zasso, let's walk and talk. I'd like to stretch these old bones out a bit."
Zasso nodded, bringing Marron's hand to his lips. "I shouldn't be too long," he promised, "I'll find you after."
"Take your time," the human said with a large grin. Zasso couldn't help but sneak another kiss to her wrist before letting her go. He joined his father heading out towards the hall, with Marron admiring how the youngest Souljin Prince extended his arm for the king as they walked away. She was used to the butterflies in her stomach around him, and still, Zasso managed to amaze her.
It soon became clear the two left behind were an odd pair. Vegeta and Marron remained in uncomfortable silence, which only brought on Marron's nerves. Trunks and Bulla's father always would instill a bit of apprehension.
"Vegeta," Marron nodded meekly.
The awkwardness was only amplified given how Vegeta was silently observing her and Zasso moments before. She started to turn in the other direction, nerves getting the best of her, until a noise gave her pause.
"Interesting," Vegeta remarked to himself, though Marron heard.
The blonde blinked in response. "Interesting?"
"You and…that prince."
She was startled by the comment; this was the first time Vegeta had ever really engaged her in actual conversation. "Zasso?" Marron quipped, for it was all she could say.
"Hmph," he responded. The Saiyan Prince glided past her, no longer maintaining eye contact. The conversation that had just begun had apparently ended just as soon. His silence was as telling as it was confusing.
Marron stood in place, perplexed. What was that about?
He was as confusing as his son, she thought. Marron flinched at the thought of her lavender-haired friend…it was the first time her mind wandered to him all day, which was unusual. She didn't know why her stomach flipped at that moment, but it left her feeling uneasy.
The only thing she knew for certain was that Trunks and Vegeta were definitely cut from the same cloth.
Goten was relieved to see a lack of familiar faces in the barracks.
He knew Trunks was likely already done with his sword training, Vegeta still likely in another council meeting. Then there was his father taking advantage of a pre-dinner before dinner—he made a mental note to thank the kitchen for that—and his brother and Bulma were busy in the lab. By all accounts, the coast was clear.
Save for one of the last people he wanted to see.
"Greetings, Son Goten," Toge sneered as Goten passed him and his regiment training. There was a quiet unease that followed; the group of Souljin soldiers all locking onto the half-Saiyan. The devious smirk on Toge's face was almost as frustrating as his voice. Goten's eyes narrowed, hardly in the mood.
"Toge," he answered back in a flat tone.
"Taking advantage of the training yard?"
"Attempting to…"
"You are more than welcome to join us," Toge said almost mockingly. "If you'd prefer to not train alone."
The middle prince smacked the other man's back in faux camaraderie, the impact shockingly stinging. He chuckled to himself, amidst the snickers of his compatriots. Goten didn't doubt that he was the stronger ultimately of the two of them, but he could tell that Toge was no pushover in the slightest. He yanked away from the Souljin, effectively removing himself. Given the audience they had, Goten couldn't say what he really wanted to, but his tone said what his words could not.
"Not today," Goten spoke dryly, "I've already made plans."
"Ah, so you aren't by yourself then!" Toge answered. "What a boon. I find my strength only grows when I can test it against someone else. Curious though, I do not see anyone here with you?"
The Son man glared with contempt. Toge was no fool; as much as he seemed full of himself, the Souljin had a keen sense of observation. The last thing he wanted was for Toge of all people to catch wind of something he shouldn't be privy to. Just when he was about to answer, a saving grace walked by.
"Commander…"
Goten and Toge whizzed around to see Lieutenant Nashi approach. "Lieut," Toge said with a two-finger salute. From what Goten could tell, Nashi didn't seem to take to the informal greeting, but brushed it off.
"General Taikan just left the council meeting and requested to see you for a status report."
Toge's leer remained although, to Goten, it seemed wider than before. The Souljin man swerved his head to cock it to the side, dismissing his squad. He paused when his gaze fell back on Goten. "Perhaps another time, Son Goten," Toge stated.
With a polite bow to Goten, Lieutenant Nashi led Toge away and the hybrid thanked his lucky stars for the intervention.
He did, however, notice the leer given by the prince as he walked away. Goten's hand formed a fist, clenched itself, and released. Toge was not worth the frustration; he had more than enough to worry about.
And yet, as those gilded eyes followed him, the Son man knew the unease he felt was warranted.
…
It took Goten a while to track down Bulla's ki. She kept it faint enough to not draw much attention to herself, but enough to be detected. The section of the barracks she was in was barren, at one of the furthest edges of the grounds. A semblance of privacy, Goten thought, even though they weren't completely on their own.
He observed her kicking the air and trading punches with an invisible opponent; already getting a headstart on some moves. Though Goten was nervous about their upcoming reunion after how things had previously ended, he still admired the finesse in which she capered about the yard. She was like a dancer; delicate and precise. There was a grace in her movement that he could not take credit for. That was all Vegeta.
Speaking of Vegeta, the ice cold scowl Goten associated with him, looked awfully like the one that Bulla shot in his direction.
Bulla completed a pirouette-like kick that Goten was convinced was, in her mind, his head. A large gulp journeyed down his gullet.
"You're late," she said flatly.
"Sorry B-Chan, I got stopped on my way here," he answered earnestly.
"I bet you did."
A frown accompanied her words as the princess stretched in place. Satisfied she was warmed up enough, Bulla got into a fighting stance. Though he had been honest, it wasn't enough to sway her. Goten sighed; this was going to be tougher than he expected.
"Bulla, about last night…" Goten began to say, but Bulla rapidly interrupted by charging at him.
"HA!"
"Hey!" Goten yelled, dashing out of the way. The cry fell on deaf ears as Bulla continued to advance. Her arms matched his in perfect symmetry. A violent foxtrot of limbs, they met each other strike for strike. "Slow down, B-Chan!" he said. Though Goten was more experienced, Bulla had the element of surprise in her favor.
"Shut up and fight, Ten!"
A visceral scream liberated itself from her throat. Bulla was not letting up in the slightest. The two took to the air where their movements weren't restricted by gravity. With another furious yell, the princess continued to move forward on her companion and Goten, for all his prowess, was struggling to catch up.
"Look, I get you are mad," Goten reasoned in between blocks. "I would be too."
"Mad?" she laughed viciously. "I'm not mad. Why would I be?"
She punched his gut, shocking Goten with the full force. A strained cough punctured his lungs. Bulla was never quite this intense with him. Goten could barely clutch his stomach before she went on the attack again.
"C'mon Ten!" the bluette chided. "Don't tell me you've been slacking since we've arrived."
Her words were as lethal as her gaze. She thrusted her fists towards his face, with Goten barely evading the strikes. When Bulla came dangerously close to dislocating his chin, Goten took towards higher ground. This was getting out of hand. "Will you just talk to me?" Goten implored. He thought the request reasonable, but clearly, Bulla did not.
"NO!"
The heiress lifted herself to meet him further in the sky. Goten noticed they could be spotted if someone was watching from the top of the ramparts or palace balconies, so he attempted to guide them lower. Bulla, however, wasn't paying any mind to their positioning. Her sole focus was launching herself towards him to get in another hit.
"Bulla—!"
She continued to ignore his plea as she came at him with everything she had. He couldn't even get a word in edgewise with her incessant maneuvering. Persistent to a fault, her novel abilities were strengthened by the unrelenting spirit behind them. A deep rumble fluttered in Goten's throat; his annoyance with the situation increasing by the minute.
"Bulla, c'mon…I mean it!" he warned. "Quit acting like this!"
"Like what, Goten?" the princess asked, incredulously. She blasted him with a quick ki beam that he batted away. Goten gritted his teeth, squeezing his fist into a tight ball. Something in his body wanted to unleash itself, and even with his expert restraint, all it would take for the foundation to crumble was just one more brick removed. He refused to indulge her.
Bulla, too, bared her teeth with her jaw unhinged. She hated being ignored; that was the root of all this. If he wouldn't answer her, the heiress vowed to coax it out of him. She rallied them towards the ground once more, trying to limit his available perimeter. Bulla swung her fists with the fury of five-hundred soldiers, getting in close to Goten's face. This only served to aggravate Goten further, but he remained silent, blocking each blow, much to her chagrin.
"Like what?" she demanded again. This time she managed to hit his nose, causing Goten to hold his hand to the injury. It wasn't a break in the bone, but man, could she pack a punch. As he saw drops of blood trail onto his palm, his annoyance reached its peak. An incensed grunt preceded his response.
"Like a child!" Goten finally shouted in frustration, bringing the two of them to a halt.
Of all the things he could have said, the Son man knew he made a poor choice in words.
The wind around him chilled; eerily matching the absolute iciness evident in Bulla's blue gaze. Goten wasn't a superstitious man, but he had a feeling that look was going to haunt him for the rest of his days. After what seemed like hours in mere seconds, Bulla began to power up. The ground started to shake beneath them. Remnants of stone lifted into the air as flecks of a golden aura formed around the younger half-Saiyan's form. Her hair waved about behind her, beginning to verticalize itself. Those venomous eyes vacillated between aquamarine and emerald; two beautiful gems in their own right, but made lethal with the potency of her death stare.
"A…child?!"
Goten considered the notion that he may have uttered his last words.
With a bloodcurdling scream, Bulla fully ascended. It had been a while since she activated Super Saiyan, but the rage inside her gut spilled out into the open. Her companion was awestruck, both mesmerized by her state as well as terrified at what was to come. Goten didn't even have time to appreciate the control she had on her transformation, however. She was already darting towards him in her golden form.
A swift roundhouse kick to the face sent Goten hurling towards one of the grand columns. If not for his masterful command, he would have gone right through it. Goten shifted his body to avoid the impact but ended up rolling violently on the ground.
There was no time for him to lie down as the gilded frame of his sparring partner dashed for him once more.
"Was I a child Goten when you kissed me?" Bulla shouted in between her savage attempts to strike him. Goten dodged them, but barely, as he failed to answer in a timely manner. This only grated the princess further. Through her clenched teeth, a low growl emitted. "Was I a child when you came to my room, crawled into my bed, and put your hands all over me?"
As Goten raised his arm to block yet another furious punch, the guilt was palpable in his expression. "I didn't mean it like that," he insisted, his tone a mix of shame and diplomacy.
Bulla grunted as she kicked his side, propelling him towards the end of the yard. "Then what did you mean?" she yelled across the way.
"I—"
"Say it!" she screamed at him. Another exhaustive ballet of kicks and punches deflected by the older man only infuriated her further. "You still think of me as some stupid kid!"
"That's not true!" Goten said.
"Liar!"
She huffed and screamed as he impeded her latest attack.
"Bulla, wait!" he shouted amidst her barrage of assaults. Goten desperately avoided fighting back, merely opting for defensive tactics. However, given Bulla's increasing ire and power, he knew he'd have to come up with something quickly. "I should've said something different; you know I don't see you like that—"
"No, I don't know, Goten!"
Heat rushed to her face, a combination of anger and disappointment. "You tell me one thing," Bulla yelled, another round of ki blasts making their way out of her palms. The elder demi-Saiyan evaded the majority of them, but one managed to sear the side of his gi. Bulla growled at the lack of damage and decided to increase the quantity of the beams, prompting Goten to furiously weave in and out. She shouted after him as he maneuvered about. "Then," she started up again, "you go back and forth! How the hell is anyone supposed to know?"
As the last of the latest wave left Bulla's hands, Goten stopped dodging. The two froze in place, stalled by the unanswered question hanging in the air. Seeing the palpable disappointment within her eyes, Goten's face fell.
"I'm sorry, Bulla," Goten expressed genuinely.
His tone was sincere and sounded more than remorseful. The guilt that had been eating at him from inside multiplied. He should have known better; and yet, how could he tell her two things were true? It was confusing enough for himself. Goten even couldn't imagine how much more difficult it was for Bulla to comprehend. She was right; it wasn't fair. The half-Saiyan thought he had made some progress with his candor, for one brief nanosecond, until she raised both arms over her head.
"Not good enough!" Bulla yelled, a purplish beam blooming in her palms. "GALICK GUN!"
The older man ducked to avoid colliding with her father's signature move. Below him, the ground now had a large hole and he gulped. Her ki blasts were getting bigger and Goten was having a harder time bypassing them with each new iteration. Her improvement in the Super Saiyan form was commendable, but this was hardly the time to admire. Eventually, he found himself near the bulwark wall, his available space dwindling as she moved in closer.
Bulla still glowered, though it was clear she was out of breath. The heiress slowed after the latest attack, huffing for air, but showed no signs of letting up. Her short-windedness prompted the other hybrid to try to seize the opportunity.
As Goten raised his hand to manifest a blast of his own, he felt an unexpected surge of energy knocking him back against the wall. Gazing at his wrist, Goten realized he was attached to the stone courtesy of a ki ring. He sought to free himself, but failed with each attempt. Whatever Bulla conjured was stronger than he anticipated.
All Bulla could do was watch in amusement. Her breaths finally caught up to her as she stood tall. The flat line on Bulla's face turned upwards, admiring her handiwork. She had him right where she wanted him.
"Papa showed me that trick a while back," Bulla admitted. "He certainly loves to bring up the time he used it on your father," she continued, clearly appreciating the similarity of the situation. The heiress flicked her wrist with ease, almost mocking Goten's imprisoned state. "Naturally, Dad thought I could benefit from learning the skill as well. He was right."
Goten still tried to loosen his arm from the energetic binding while she spoke, but it was no use. Though her ki control was fairly novel, in her Super Saiyan form, it was more than stable to keep him locked in place. Her smirk increased as he struggled. Something about that look irritated Goten to no end. The sympathy he had for her was waning with every second.
"What do you want, Bulla?" he spat out.
The heiress feigned hurt, her big eyes widening further before resuming a scowl once more. "Oh no," Bulla insisted, "it's your turn to say what you want, Goten. I'm done playing around."
Even if he could move in that instance, Goten's feet seemed to be just as stuck as his wrist was. Bulla closed in on him slowly, methodical in her approach. She draped the arm that was free above his head against the flat of the wall. Her other hand pinched his chin as she made him face her. "Tell me," she said in a deep voice, "do you do these mind games with every girl?"
"No," Goten insisted, still straining in her grasp.
"Just me then?"
"No, Bulla!"
His brows creased, the aggravation palpable. "I don't know how many more times I can tell you the same thing," Goten said with an unusual sternness.
"As many times as I demand you to, Third-Class," Bulla replied, equally as uncharacteristically. It was as if Vegeta possessed her body in that instance. "I'm your princess, after all."
He stared defiantly at her, but had no retort. No matter, Bulla thought, she'd get him talking in other ways. Bulla tightened her grip on him as he struggled. A slender finger graced his cheek, with the heiress leaning in close to his face. "Don't you want to please your princess?" she whispered.
Goten could feel himself melting against the heat of her. He didn't want to play this game anymore. Again, his hand struggled as she brought his chin closer. Goten's gi grew tight, and if he didn't do something soon, he'd be a goner. A wayward groan cried out from his lips when he felt her mouth on his ear.
"Or…" Bulla continued, biting his earlobe. "Am I not enough of a woman for you?"
"Enough!"
A flash of radiant, golden light engulfed the older man as he ascended, catapulting Bulla away. She landed on her feet, in shock to see he was choosing to fight back. Powered up, Goten summoned his strength to ply his ki-enclosed hand from the wall. His now piercing green eyes glared with all the intensity within him. Bulla's own set widened at how easily he dismantled her binding.
Goten stared her down as the broken energy ring dissipated into the air. A sudden beam of ki emitted from his palm with ease, leaving the fabric on Bulla's neck and shoulder singed and uncovered. Enough restraint to prevent the skin itself from breaking, but noticeable enough for the heiress to be distracted by the action. With no time to process what occurred, Bulla braced herself for the impact when Goten launched her way.
Faster and stronger, the Son man broke through any defensive stance Bulla showcased. He batted down her arms with ease and soon enough, it became harder for the heiress to shield his blows. Though Bulla had sparred with him many times by now, there was a ferocity that was new to her. Even her Super Saiyan form could not keep up with the older hybrid. Goten clearly held the advantage as her muscles weakened with each strike. When Bulla's arms finally lost their strength, Goten saw his opening.
With a loud howl, he charged at Bulla, forcing the two of them to collide in her attempt to turn and flee. Goten soon took control, uniting them so together they'd reach his intended destination at the other edge of the rampart. In one solid move, he propelled them both towards the barrack's wall.
BOOM!
The impact shook the foundations; a thunderous rumble reverberated along with the pitter patter of loosened rock clinking on the ground.
Bulla slammed chest first into the marble palisade, Goten's body weight pressed up behind her to keep her in place. Cracks in the hardened stone started to form, the slight indent of a body now visible in the bulwark. The defeated beauty coughed up cascading debris, catching her breath as best she could. She grunted with frustration, hands attempting to flail as she failed to escape. As she squirmed against the much stronger hybrid, golden flecks of her hair slowly sparked back to blue. Her ragged gasps also indicated she was at her peak.
Goten was firm at first, still in his Super Saiyan form to make sure he had finally subdued the young woman. It took him a moment to register their positioning, the stark vulnerability in how they stood. Despite her efforts, the princess was unable to access her ascension again. Eventually, Bulla's resistance dwindled as she slowly accepted her fate. Once certain he had her restrained, Goten powered down and leaned in close.
"Do you…"
His labored pants interrupted the sentence, but upon his return, his voice had gotten low and amorous.
"Do you…really think…" he began again slowly, "that I don't know you're a woman?"
Bulla's eyes shot open when she felt his hands moving to cup her body. The contact bordered on being possessive and Bulla couldn't help the faint bray from her lips when Goten's touch intensified. "I—" the heiress could barely get out. For all her earlier fury, in that moment, she was tamed.
His blood still boiled with their heated exchange coursing through his veins. As affectionately as he thought of her, Goten also knew no one pushed his buttons quite like she could. Leave it to a Briefs to be so mind-numbingly infuriating. He had entered that training area in a completely different state and now, Goten felt the primeval call that only awoke when in a spar or battle. But it was more than that; whatever their fighting had brought on wasn't mere frustration.
It was desire.
"That I don't know how beautiful you are?" Goten continued, his fingers fastening around her most feminine features. The parched, strained voice he spoke in made Bulla shiver. Goten felt himself awakened by her sweat, that ever-pervasive scent of coconut and jasmine. He inhaled the aroma, only becoming more and more spellbound. The pacing of his breaths slowed like he was the jaguar stalking his next kill.
"Or notice how good you smell?" Goten said as he grazed his nose against her neck from behind. "How soft you feel?"
"Goten…"
"Believe me," he rasped, "I know a woman when I see one, Bulla."
A shaky wind emitted from the heiress' mouth as his hands boldly gripped her assets. His previous words were merely a prelude to this intimate contact. Goten argued with himself in his head, insisting that he should relinquish the princess and walk away. Yet, the other side of himself, the part he tried to bury and hide from most people, especially Bulla, refused to let go of something so exquisite.
Maneuvering over her spandex, Goten thumbed the cleavage in his hold, a jolt of electricity sparking between them both. A low exhale released once his efforts seemed to harden her peaks. Bulla met his primitive groan with one of her own. She tilted her neck at the pleasurable contact, the exposed skin practically beckoning Goten to taste. Perfumed sweat called to him, and he could hardly control how quickly his lips moved. Goten's mouth glided over the swanlike arch, and each peck burned like molten lava.
Bulla's palm reached behind her, the grip finally loosened. She placed her hand to Goten's cheek as he continued to work his way up her ivory tower. His own grasp on the heiress tightened; one hand cupping her breast, the other dipping lower in between her legs. Even over the fabric, Goten could feel the scorching heat emanating underneath. While up against her voluptuous frame, Goten's blood flow went straight below.
And the princess could sense it, instantly.
Her body rippled against the sturdy specimen at her backside. A thousand little fires danced across her skin, each its own infinitesimal supernova. Here he was: holding her, kissing her, growing hard for her…it was too much. Another soft moan escaped Bulla's pretty mouth when his fingers lightly grazed over the lycra covering her austral treasure.
"Oh sh—"
"Shh," he whispered into her ear. Goten resumed his pecks against her jawline, nudging her to turn towards him in order to reach where his lips truly desire to be. With great deliberation, Bulla canted her face behind her shoulder; she was nose to nose with the handsome demi-Saiyan. Together, their breaths heated the other's face, matching the inferno that stirred beneath. His ebony-eyed gaze bore into her with only one thought on his mind.
"Is this what you wanted?" he asked in a dark, deliberate tone.
Strong fingers strummed along her sheathed sex, the fabric preventing true contact, but their impact felt, nonetheless. Bulla squirmed when his touch reached a particularly sensitive point and yielded a deep moan from her throat. It wasn't exactly like the fantasy she had about him in the shower; both of them were far too clothed and in too public a space. Even though they had their privacy in that section, there was a sort of thrill that came with the possibility of being caught. She just prayed to Kami that it wouldn't be Trunks or worse, her father.
When he pressed through the spandex on her bundle of nerves again, Bulla mewled even louder. Her mouth more pronounced, the noise more uninhibited. It wasn't a full reply, but the other half-Saiyan heard the beginnings of a "yes" and went with it.
Unable to resist, Goten dove down to gain entrance to her lips.
The kiss was both bruising and healing. Considerably just as needy as the one they shared in the water gardens, if not more so. As his tongue ravished the princess, his movements tapped in a precise rhythm below. While his fingers concentrated on the clothed bud, an instrument he seemed more than proficient in, her womanhood contracted around the ghost of where she wanted him the most. Pulsing heat emanated from her core and the smell of arousal penetrated the air, causing a snarl to escape Goten's throat.
That was all because of him.
"Damn it, Bulla," he barked.
Her long lashes fluttered open, the blues of her eyes twinkling as they gazed upon him wondrously. "What?" she asked in a quiet whisper. She knew Goten was probably still irritated from earlier, and while her original intent was to rile him up into action, Bulla did not wish for him to be angry. Even if, secretly, there was something quite attractive about his ire. She blamed her parents for that fleeting fascination.
Goten inhaled sharply, the lingering scent of her taunting him.
"You drive me insane, y'know?" he growled.
Before Bulla could respond back, his mouth was on hers once more. Goten flipped the heiress around so that she was now facing him fully; his fingers continued to yield a myriad of sounds from the bluette. He feverishly kissed up the column of her neck, giving Bulla a chance to finally catch her breath.
"Good or bad?" she asked amid heavy panting.
He released his lips and looked at her with a ravenous gleam that Bulla returned in kind. Their lips crashed yet again, a bit more tongue this time, and Goten applied added pressure to his hand movements. Muffled moans squeaked out where they could, but it was a minute before the bluette had an answer from him.
"Both…" Goten murmured, returning to her collarbone. Digging into her frame, he could sense the fabric dampening his fingers below. It only served as motivation to intensify his ministrations. The scent of her was delectable and vexing all at the same time. He couldn't get enough, and neither could she.
"Sorry," Bulla said. Tongue-in-cheek, of course, and Goten smiled wryly against her skin.
"You're not," he teased back, refusing to cease his skillful motions.
"No—ah!"
Bulla couldn't stifle the mewl; he was a master at rendering her replete. Regaining her composure, her body moved against his fingers. "Maybe not," Bulla purred, the edge of another moan following. "You're not either, it seems."
The elder hybrid looked deep into her eyes. "I'm just sorry I didn't do this a few nights ago," he confessed, surprising both Bulla and himself with his words. With another feminine groan working its way out her throat, the heiress clasped her arms around his neck.
"Me too," she whispered.
Goten grunted, the animal within him taking over once more, and pressed himself against her as their mouths found each other again. What was it about her that made those lips fit perfectly with his? Every time he attempted to breathe for air, she took his breath away just as quickly.
Her delicate touch grew firm; the tips of her fingers snaked up to the back of his head, refusing to let go.
"More," Bulla murmured in between kisses. Those hands gripped him as if her life depended on it.
He pulled away to observe the look in her eye. There was an amorous glow there Goten had never seen before. Mischievous and randy, a deadly combo. Bulla didn't know it, he thought, but she certainly was more her mother in that moment. The faintest sympathy went out to Vegeta; how he survived a Briefs woman Goten would never know. Earlier, she had nearly won the battle. But the older halfling did not want to give Bulla this victory…he was determined to take that power back.
Goten pinned Bulla's arms above her head, mirroring the action from before and startling the princess. He leaned in close to her ear while his free hand found its way to the small of her back. The loss of contact made her whimper, but Goten's grip was almost just as stimulating. "More what?" he questioned in a low tone.
Her eyes darkened as he hovered close to her face. She couldn't seem to say exactly what she desired, but whatever it was, was slowly becoming an all-consuming need.
"Please," Bulla begged, "more."
The soreness in her arms pulsated still from earlier, but somehow, the heiress didn't mind their position. Him towering over her and her trembling underneath him. She furled against the older man, silently requesting his hand return below. Keeping her arms pinned, Goten removed the hand at her back, sliding it down her hips. He enjoyed the journey; deliberately keeping his pace slow. His fingers searched for a band, but her form-fitted attire did not allow for any closer contact. A guttural hiss slithered between clenched teeth, with Goten considering tearing a hole in the garment just for better access. Bulla, too, regretted her sensible training spandex. She made a mental note to look into a looser gi style in the future, but until then, they'd have to make do.
She met his mouth with hers, silencing the frustrated growl rumbling in his throat.
The daughter of Vegeta rolled against the son of Kakarot, their bodies singing to one another in an ancient tongue only those of Saiyan blood could know. A concerto of passion and adrenaline, this was the boiling point in the making for months. Goten once again palmed her heated core, drenched with perspiration and readiness. His fingers dug in deep, disregarding the barrier of spandex to still yield whatever pleasure he could for her. Bulla rewarded him with more delicious moans, but it wasn't enough.
"Goten," she pleaded in a high-pitched breath. "More!"
With her final cry, the second Son nodded in understanding. His hands already were moving to grip the fabric. They trembled with urgency, aching as they descended. Before Goten could rip apart the garment shielding her to him, they both heard footsteps in the near distance.
"I think this is where that commotion was earlier. Check for any damages!"
Voices of nearby soldiers broke the two apart, the dawning realization that even the empty part of the barracks was still part of the barracks overall. Both struggled to catch up with their lack of breaths. Goten was impacted by the noise more so than her, however, as his formerly hardened features softened. A fevered buzz hummed on his swollen lips. The princess batted her eyelashes. She concentrated only on his face. Still rather dazed, Goten traced Bulla's bottom lip with his thumb; onyx orbs observing every small detail of her face.
Bulla allowed herself a moment to lean into his soothing touch before the footsteps approaching them drew nearer. With a sudden gust of energy, Bulla jumped into his arms once more, whispering her next words.
"My room," she panted, "midnight. I'll leave the balcony door unlocked."
There wasn't time for Goten to respond with an answer; she kissed him deep for a final embrace and had already taken off to avoid any witnesses. If she was as electrically charged as he felt, he couldn't blame her for the hurriedness. As Goten stood there, dumbfounded by the enormity of what occurred, a small band of Souljin soldiers entered the remote wing of the barracks.
"You there! Saiyan!"
He turned around to face the men whose shocked expressions at the damage the area sustained were telling. It registered finally how disheveled he must have appeared. The Son man let out a nervous laugh. "Oh! Me?" Goten wondered aloud.
"Yes, you! What happened here?"
"I—"
Goten paused, eyeing the dent in the wall first, and then back down towards his hand that was sheening with sweat and pheromones. The hand that touched her where no other man ever dared. He was apt to note that it was the very same side as bruise marks on his wrist, courtesy of Bulla's father. The combination of both made Goten's palm tremble, feebly, but noticeably, nevertheless. He felt nauseated.
"I wish I knew," he uttered quietly to himself.
Only confusing the soldiers with his muttering, Goten shook his head and tried to snap out of it. While the polite boy that Chi-Chi raised wanted to admit the damages and take responsibility, there was the incessant throbbing in his gi that was torturing him. If he didn't leave now, he'd burst into flames. Goten immediately began to take off with flight, offering a half-hearted reply. "I mean," he called back nervously, "I see why this section was abandoned, it's covered in debris! Gonna find another spot to train!"
"Hey wait—!"
The hybrid flew at the speed of light, aiming towards his room and leaving the soldiers dumbfounded where they stood.
…
Goten swung open his balcony door with such force, he was surprised he didn't knock it off its hinges. That Souljin ingenuity clearly put to good use in their architecture, he surmised. Burning up, he disrobed from his tattered gi promptly. Profusely sweating and panting, Goten bared his form, his hardened member springing to life once freed. It was so painful, he stumbled over to his bed and laid flat. Before he could tell himself not to, Goten's hand wrapped around his heated length and stroked.
"Shit," he gasped.
All he saw were stars and blue locks. Blue eyes. Goten groaned as he furiously tightened his grip. He had promised himself he wouldn't think of her like this, but after their spar, how could he not?
Her fragrance, her taste, her wetness…
Goten unleashed another furious moan remembering how overwhelmed he had been by the scent of her. She smelled of sin and sweetness. Everything he ever wanted, and yet, was still denied to him. He tugged on himself harder, his pace increasing with his rapid breaths.
The demi-Saiyan thought of her lips, her hips—he thought of how he almost ripped a hole in her spandex to ravage her right then and there. Were they not interrupted, Goten was convinced he would have.
That thought alone made him groan with both guilt and longing. But it wasn't enough guilt to stop the halfling from what he was doing. His hardened length only throbbed more in his hands. Goten knew he wouldn't last; it had been far too long since he finished himself to completion.
And she was far too dominant in his thoughts…
"Bulla," Goten muttered out into the abyss.
He remembered how good she smelled, how her skin sheened with sweat made her glow. He remembered how she cried out for him, how, even with the fabric in the way, he could feel her need. It was the same primal need he had for her. Goten had been so close, yet so unbelievably far.
His heartbeat quickened, the multitude of breaths in his lungs amplified, and Goten's rock-hard cock trembled in anticipation. So close…so close…
Bulla's face flushed with want. Bulla's eyes filled with lust. Bulla's mouth, Bulla's hair, Bulla's entire body. Bulla's breasts cupped in his hands, Bulla's scent invading his nostrils.
Bulla, Bulla, Bulla…
"Fuck!" Goten screamed as he came.
His cock still pulsated while it emptied itself onto his stomach and all the way to his chest. Whatever pent up frustration the demi-Saiyan kept at bay, exploded with such visceral force. The tip of his length continued to weep long after coming, leaving Goten a scrambling mess. As he panted desperately for air, Goten felt simultaneously overstimulated and numb, too scared to move, save for his free hand to his temple.
He finally had done it.
Lying there, Goten stared at the ceiling above, contemplating what just occurred. After months of denial, weeks of ignoring his needs, he finally gave in to his most base desires. Even if it was just in the privacy of his own bedroom, Goten still felt like he committed an egregious violation. His body tingled and the guilt burned almost as hot as the fire within. Though he had attended to his needs, his hardness remained. A painful reminder that Goten may never fully satiate his appetite for princess, no matter how he'd try.
"Fuck…" he whispered this time.
Falling flat to his back in exhaustion, the Son man rode out the rest of his climax. His eyes drooped as the heavy weight of it all encumbered him. Goten felt a sharp breath puncture through. He gazed upwards before tiredness could claim him, with one last taunting reminder.
Kami help him; of all the colors the ceiling in his room could be…of course it was blue.
…
Later that evening, the Saiyan Princess sat near the balcony door inside her room, back against the glass. The time on Bulla's watch glowed 1:59 AM–nearly two hours after Bulla had asked Goten to meet her. There was no trace of his ki felt, no glimpses of shadows at her wall. A belabored sigh followed a sharp inhale.
He wasn't coming.
In spite of the fire that burned so hot between them it was almost blue, Bulla had been left in the proverbial cold. Maybe, she should have known this would happen. But hope was a powerful tonic, even if it turned black in her stomach, she was still full of it.
That didn't make the rejection any easier, however.
All the anger from earlier had passed, and there wasn't much left in her save for disappointment. What else could be done? The princess made her attempt, and though she almost had him, he wasn't swayed.
She wondered if he would ever be.
Bulla clutched her knees as sleep's persistent lull took refuge behind her eyes. She was too tired to move back into her bed, and whatever rest eluded her the previous evening, was finally coming to claim her.
If she couldn't have him in reality, perhaps dreams would do.
Chapter 13 and it's BEEEEEEEEEEN a minute, but we are back at it!
Thanks to all of you and shout out to Lord Killer Bee for the idea of Bulla recreating the ki rings. I had a vague outline of their spar and as I was filling it all in, that was the perfect complement to it! Hope this chapter provided some much anticipated action and romance, as well as a small peek into the Souljin culture and political structure. I'll continue to expand upon this later on (along with other things hehehe)
Chapter 14: Hinoki gives Bulla hope and one last idea on winning over Goten. An oasis, a declaration, and a decision.
The slow burn is starting to get some heat…we're almost to the tipping point! Appreciate you all more than you know.
-SonChan
