Chapter Text
Note: I've gone back and added the playlist to this page as well (first seen in Chapter 4 (5 overall)) enjoy!
-=-=-=-
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue
“Tangled Up in Blue” – Bob Dylan
-=-=-=-
Prologue: Promises, Promises
5 years earlier
Blue, just a glance of that color and instantly he knew who it belonged to.
While she shared her stark features with her mother, Bulla’s shading was unique to her, a distinction that Goten always took notice of.
Her aqua tresses flew freely in the makeshift wind of her hurriedness, long before he even heard her painful cries. Bulla’s desperate footwork came running past Goten and Trunks in the living area, who were both caught up in an intense video game campaign, as she dashed towards her bedroom. The royal came and went without even an acknowledgement on her part.
The slamming noise that followed indicated the Saiyan Princess had no desire to congregate with anyone at the moment.
Goten looked up from the video game he and Trunks were playing, while his counterpart never took his eyes off the screen. Bulla was only thirteen and in the thralls of peak social pressure. Though it had been over a decade since Goten was her age, he still remembered how awkward and lonely of a time it was. As her sobs increased in volume, even from her closed door, Goten’s heart stalled.
There was nothing he hated more than when she was sad.
“Goten, on your six!”
The command from Trunks brought him back to reality, but not quickly enough to avoid getting blown up in their game. His lavender-haired friend shrugged. “Tried to warn you, man.”
His loss in the match didn’t faze him as much as the ever-increasing cries emanating from the next room.
“Trunks, your sister seems really upset…” the sweet Son lamented.
“It’s Bulla,” Trunks answered unsympathetically, eyes still focused on the game. “She’s always upset.”
Living with Bulla for the past thirteen years, Trunks saw all too well that she inherited their parents’ flair for the dramatic. It only got worse as she entered her teens. He was wise to his sister’s petulant mood swings for attention, and he wasn’t having any of it. This was the first hangout in weeks Trunks was able to have with Goten and he didn’t need his kid sister to ruin it.
Goten looked down at his controller, not wanting to resume with Bulla so sad.
“I don’t know, Trunks,” Goten continued, “this seems more serious than that.”
Trunks finally paused the game to look at his friend. “Look, man—I know you have a soft spot for Bulla. She’s good about using that to her advantage whether it’s you, my mom, dad—whoever. It’s that Saiyan Princess juju magic.”
His friend didn’t dare to argue about his penchant for the princess, but still, Goten could tell something was off. “I doubt she’s this distraught to just get attention, dude.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Trunks—"
“What? She’s done this before. Yeah, she may cry about whatever boy drama she’s got going on, but she’ll get over it. The sooner you learn to ignore it, the easier it gets.”
Another gut-wrenching sob echoed in the halls as Trunks clicked un-pause on his controller to continue his campaign. The comment didn’t sit well with Goten.
Boy drama? At her age?
That phrase stirred an uncomfortable sensation inside of him. The thought of a stupid, human kid trying some funny business with Bulla brought out Goten’s protective side. More than that, her unrelentless whimpering was like a dagger to the heart.
It was clear Bulma wasn’t home, otherwise she would have intercepted by now and no doubt that Vegeta was busy training in the gravity room.
He couldn’t just leave her alone in this state.
Goten stood up to stretch while Trunks was entrenched in a fierce shootout. “I’ll be right back,” he started off saying, “gotta use the restroom.”
Trunks muttered something Goten couldn’t make out, still focused on only the television screen.
The younger hybrid passed the bathroom and stood outside Bulla’s door. For a second, he reconsidered bothering her, but as another pitiful wail emitted from her room, Goten’s resolve was solidified. He inhaled a harsh gulp of air.
Why was he so nervous to talk to her?
-=-=-=-
A knock on the door interrupted Bulla’s heavy crying into her pillow. She was not in the mood to deal with her mother’s solution-focused advice or her father’s lack of sympathy.
“Go away, mom!”
“Hey, B-Chan it’s Goten—can I come in?”
As soon as she heard Goten’s voice instead of her mother’s, Bulla panicked. While it wasn’t unusual for the second Son to be over at her house often, it had been some time since she’d seen him last. With both Goten and Trunks newly adapting to the workforce, the former was virtually never there, at least not like he used to be.
In any other situation, seeing him would be a welcome sight. She did miss seeing his gorgeous body and his oh so sweet signature grin that knew how to melt her where she stood.
Bulla felt herself getting flushed; mortified in fact. The thought of her childhood infatuation in her bedroom was almost too much, let alone having him see her in this condition.
She promptly jumped off her bed, littered with various stuffed animals, shoving all of them towards the side near her balcony to hide the evidence of her age. The Saiyan Princess smoothed out her sheets and cleaned up crumbled tissues, pensive over what to do with them. In sheer panic, she decided to stuff her modest training bra. The last thing she wanted to look like was a stupid kid.
“You can come in,” Bulla shouted to the entrance, now resuming a more composed position.
Goten gently opened the door as Bulla attempted to look aloof on her bed, gazing at her cherry red freshly manicured nails. He shared a small smile at her effort to act as if everything was okay. As he approached, the demi-Saiyan took note of the well-worn teddy bear that had fallen off near her nightstand. It was a formerly white bear, now faded with time and love.
Bending over to grab it, a memory flashed before him. Goten recognized it as a present he gifted to the younger girl on her 3rd birthday over a decade earlier. It was instantly Bulla’s most prized possession. Not only for how cute the gift was, but that it came from her favorite person in the world. The little princess could barely say his name at the time, so she dubbed the bear a cherished nickname she used to call him.
“Whoa! Tenten – you still have him?” Goten remarked, stunned to see a familiar sight. Part of him was moved that she kept it after all this time.
Bulla shifted, a look of horror as she mentally cursed the fact that she somehow missed one. She hastily grabbed the little bear from him and clutched it tight, embarrassed.
“What did you want, Goten?” she asked, her finger rubbing on the softness of the teddy’s fur. Bulla didn’t dare look at the man, still wanting to maintain the older image of aplomb. Goten touched her arm, an electric current passing through Bulla’s core as he did so.
“I want to know what’s wrong,” he said gently, “I hate seeing you cry.”
“I wasn’t crying,” Bulla tried to play off nonchalantly. Goten merely pointed to her cheeks, now stained with mascara that clearly wasn’t waterproof. The girl griped as she was caught in her lie.
“Here,” Goten sweetly handed her a box of tissues, nearly empty from her previous use. She wiped away what she could, turning back to face the older man who was smiling.
“Much better,” he murmured, a strong thumb stroking her cheek. The contact was brief but caught the heiress by surprise. The second his touch faded, Bulla nearly whimpered. Goten cleared his throat to resume his questioning.
“Now that we’ve established something upset you,” the older halfling stated with a wry grin, “will you tell me what it is?”
Bulla stirred as she recounted the day’s earlier events. The memory enraged her at how humiliated she had been. Maka, a cute jock in her algebra class, had been passing notes the previous few weeks with her and she thought they were at the next level. He was definitely attractive; with lighter hair and eyes even if Bulla preferred darker features. Well, darker features on certain men.
While Bulla welcomed the interest, she worried her status as one of the wealthiest teenagers in the world was a motivating factor when it came to guys. However, Maka seemed sincere enough when he started showing her affection. What an idiot she was.
“Maka is a baka,” she angrily spat.
Goten couldn’t help but chuckle at the rhyme. “Sounds like it,” he declared, “who is Maka though?”
“Just another loser boy at my school.”
The thought of these little teenage boys attempting to get into the good graces of Bulla was amusing to him. Goten knew for all her beauty and intelligence that came from her mother; the princess received an equally formidable temper from her father. She would eat anyone alive that dared to cross her. He wondered how this hotly stubborn teen could be upset at some silly human of all things.
“Why is a loser making my B-Chan so sad then?”
Bulla inhaled sharply, eyes still closed in resentment, grasping Tenten snugly. She didn’t want to have to say it aloud.
“B-Chan?”
A groan escaped the heiress’ lips. She’d have to get over her embarrassment if he were to leave her alone. Besides, Goten was always someone she could trust to not judge her. His kind eyes reassured her of that. Bulla adored those kind, dark eyes.
Her breath was sharp, but her tone softened.
“I’m sad because…” she began slowly, “…because he was going to be my first.”
Those very words propelled Goten’s same dark eyes to bug out in horror and he choked on nothing but air. A scream wanted to crawl out of his throat, but he kept it at bay. He almost regretted asking the question, but now they were past a point of no return.
Bulla’s strange look at Goten’s reaction brought him out of his trance, his face white hot with mortification. “Your…first…?” he couldn’t even finish the question.
“First kiss,” Bulla continued, clarifying, oblivious to what Goten was thinking. He sighed in relief.
“Oh, thank Kami that’s all she meant,” Goten mused to himself. She was much too young for what he thought Bulla originally suggested. “Wow, first kiss—” he breathed trying to regain his composure but was interrupted just as quickly.
“It’s silly,” she insisted, rolling her eyes. Ever attempting to be the “cool” girl.
“It’s not silly at all,” Goten kindly reassured, “I can imagine it was disappointing when it didn’t happen.”
“He told me he changed his mind and wanted to kiss Hasami Fusen instead because she has bigger breasts,” she uttered, shocking Goten with her candidness.
Part of her watched him to see if he would involuntarily look at her stuffed bra when she said that, but ever the gentleman, Goten kept his gaze on her cerulean orbs only. “Of course he’s not looking you idiot—he’s twenty-four,” she mentally chastised. Bulla took note of Goten’s face fading into a frown.
“Sounds like a real jerk,” the other half-Saiyan noted in an irritated tone. Had he been there, he would have punched the guy for being so disrespectful, teenager or not. His eyes softened as he looked at Bulla’s disheartened appearance. “I’m sorry that happened,” Goten whispered.
“Probably for the best,” Bulla stated, “but I’m still sad about it.”
“And you’re allowed to be, B-Chan.”
She smiled for the first time in a while. Goten’s sweet reassurance had a way of improving her mood, if only slightly. Bulla turned towards her companion. “I feel like everyone else is already experiencing things and I’m left in the dust,” she bemoaned, and he nodded along knowingly. Her eyes glanced downwards. “If Maka was the wrong person, at least I would have known what it was like.”
Her innocence was touching. Goten understood that Bulla yearned to be free to explore life as a normal teenager, but with an overprotective father like Vegeta and an equally overprotective brother like Trunks, the poor girl hardly stood a chance.
“B-Chan, your first kiss is definitely an important thing,” Goten validated, “but you don’t want to have it with the wrong person. You deserve better than that.”
Bulla considered his remarks, her red-nailed fingers tapping ever so delicately upon her cheek. “How do you know who the right person is?” Bulla asked, those impossibly blue eyes shining with curiosity.
Goten paused to think. It was a question he never really asked himself, even. “I suppose…you know in the bottom of your heart. Like, there aren’t any doubts. You just know that person is a good person and that they care about you.”
His words surprised even him, but they made Bulla blush on cue.
“That’s how I feel about you,” Bulla confessed freely, turning redder by the second.
“About me?” he questioned, astonished by the admission.
“Yeah, well I mean, how I feel about you is how I would want to feel about them I guess,” Bulla was now beet red as she tried to recover from her declaration. Butterflies multiplied in her stomach. This was a man that she had longed for since she was a little girl, much to his obliviousness.
“I know you’re a good person, Goten. You would never hurt me.”
The moment those words were uttered, Goten reached for her. He tucked Bulla’s loose hair behind her ears, taking note of a second piercing he hadn’t noticed before. Now that he could see her pretty face with no obstruction, Goten beamed.
“Never, B-Chan,” the older hybrid promised.
A feeling of warmth permeated her cheeks. Bulla looked up at him, straight in the eye. If he was ever going to take her seriously, she would need to prove to him just how grown-up she was.
“Goten would you…” she trailed off abandoning the phrase midway through. The other Saiyan raised his eyebrows in response.
“Would I what, B-Chan?”
“Would you be…my first kiss?”
That wind knocked out of him, like a swift punch to the gut.
He figured Bulla possessed a tiny crush on him, as so many little sisters of best friends do, but never in a million years did he think it was anything more than that given their age difference. A faint shade of red crossed his cheeks, still moved that she considered him in such a way, no matter how misguided.
“Bulla,” he said using her full name for once, “I’m an old guy, it’s not appropriate. Besides, you don’t want to kiss someone like me when there are tons of kids your age.”
She heaved her chest at the word “kids”, folding her arms in the same manner as her father.
“I don’t want a kid, Goten-kun,” the princess insisted, “I want a man.”
The color that had sprouted moments before simply drained from his face. Bulla’s voice sounded so guttural when she said that phrase, it nearly gave him a heart attack. Goten realized despite her tone, her feelings were innocent enough, but worried that if he didn’t say anything soon, his lack of an answer would suggest agreement.
“B-Chan,” he returned to using her nickname, “I know we’ve always been close, but grown-ups shouldn’t be kissing teenagers. Even for friends like us.”
The young girl pouted. “But Goten, it’s different with us,” she insisted to him, “we’re great friends and you’re like my big brother.”
“Yeah, but if your brother or father ever found out, I’d be dead,” he teased, but Bulla wasn’t laughing along. Her eyes nearly watered prompting Goten to sigh.
“You have so much time to have your first kiss, Bulla. Don’t try to grow up before you’re supposed to,” he said with a hand on her back.
Her face formed a frown once more. “I guess,” she relented, sadly.
Goten hated to see her disappointed, even if she wasn’t crying like she was earlier, he still yearned to make her happy. So many times when they were younger, she’d run to Goten, completely ignoring her brother, and Goten was more than happy to help cheer her up. He loved making her smile.
And then it hit him—the perfect distraction.
“Well, maybe you are a bit too grown up, Bulla,” he started off, catching the teenager’s attention. Goten revealed an audacious smirk. “Probably way too grown up for ice cream.”
“Ice cream?” she contemplated, her ears instantly perking up.
“Especially ice cream with hot fudge,” Goten continued, knowing that was her favorite topping.
Bulla’s resolve was weakening but she held her ground, remaining silent despite the thoughts of a dreamy, chocolate drizzle on a chilled scoop.
Goten got up to start heading towards the door. “You might be too old, B-Chan,” he began again, “but I’m probably going to grab some myself. Unless…”
She shook her head and put Tenten to her side. “Wait!” she shouted as Goten was in the doorway.
Bingo.
“Maybe,” the young girl tiptoed in the direction of the older demi-Saiyan, “maybe ice cream wouldn’t be so bad.”
A big smile spread across Goten’s face as he put his arm around her. “Your wish is my command, Princess!” he exclaimed, not noticing Bulla’s furious blushing at the move. She just enjoyed the closeness as the two made their way back towards the living area.
-=-=-=-
“Damn it!” Trunks threw the controller down in frustration. The screen flashed GAME OVER as he groaned. His ears perked up with the familiar sound of his sister’s laughter, joined in tandem by the laughter of his best friend.
The oldest hybrid raised an eyebrow as the two entered the room together, all smiles.
“There you are, Goten. I was beginning to think you fell in the toilet,” Trunks chided.
Bulla shot Goten a confused look and he simply shrugged. “Sorry, got a little distracted,” he admitted not taking his eyes off the heiress. She beamed.
Trunks rolled his eyes. “Glad to see her royal highness is better,” he answered sarcastically, starting a new game.
His sister stuck her tongue out at him. “No thanks to you,” she berated.
In all his wisdom and maturity, Trunks returned the gesture. He turned his gaze back to his friend.
“Goten, grab a controller, I still have time to add you to this campaign.”
“Actually Trunks, your sister and I were going to grab some ice cream.”
Trunks dropped the controller. “Ice cream? The two of you?”
“Yeah, the two of us,” Bulla butted in, “no loser brothers allowed.”
Goten had to stifle a chuckle as Trunks glared. He emitted a faint groan in defeat. “Well fine, let me grab my wallet—” the lavender-haired man stated. Bulla was about to protest again but Goten spoke up.
“You heard the lady, Trunks—no loser brothers allowed!” he said winking towards Bulla.
Her brother looked stunned. “Wait for real?” he asked incredulously. Goten merely begun to whistle, leading Bulla towards the front door. When her dark eyed comrade was turned around, she stuck her tongue out again at Trunks. On instinct, as the door closed, he shouted, “well promise at least to bring back a pint of rocky road!”
“Okay promise!” Goten replied before the door shut.
Left alone with his game, the heir of Capsule Corp. could scarcely believe what happened.
Fucking Saiyan Princess juju.
-=-=-=-
“Here you go, B-Chan!” Goten handed her the cone while already munching on his own.
Her eyes lit up at the ice cream that Goten treated her to. He certainly was on the money when he suggested grabbing some. If there was anything Bulla enjoyed, it was cute Saiyans with the last name Son (she’d never tell Pan this) and a big scoop of ice cream.
“Thanks, Goten!” she exclaimed in the most animated tone she had that day. She eagerly commenced licking the frozen treat. The older Saiyan beamed.
“Well, anything to get you to smile again, Bulla.”
As soon as he said that Bulla’s heart skipped a beat. “You always know how,” she said happily lapping at her cone. “Trunks would never be able to figure it out.”
“I’d cut your brother some slack,” Goten commented between licks, “he’s been really stressed since starting at the company. Your mom wants him to be President someday. Besides, before you came along, your father was even more intense if you can believe it. Trunks didn’t always have the best example at showing emotion.”
Her blue eyes widened at Goten’s astute observation. She tended to get so enthralled with her own life, Bulla rarely saw things from Trunks’ perspective. Especially the differences in how they were parented.
“Your brother loves you though,” Goten continued. “He might be an asshole, but he’s our asshole,” he finished cheekily. Bulla chuckled at Goten feeling comfortable enough to joke with her like this.
She then let out a knowing sigh. “I guess you’re right. He still doesn’t have to take it out on me though.”
“That I agree with you on.”
Bulla turned to him once more. “I’m sorry about earlier,” the younger Saiyan began, “I feel so embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed about what?”
“About…you know…” her voice trailed off, getting very low, “…asking you to kiss me.”
“Don’t be. It was flattering at least!” Goten tried to play it off so she wouldn’t feel as awkward. She smiled at his attempt.
“Look Goten, I know obviously I’m still young and have a lot to learn. It wouldn’t be a good idea now but,” she paused looking him square in the eye, “but say I’m eighteen. Never been kissed. Would you be my first?”
Her new proposition somehow had just as stark of an effect as her original one.
Goten observed the younger woman blushing furiously as she said it. He had to give it to her; she certainly was braver than he could ever hope to be. The thought almost made him laugh though—as if she wouldn’t be kissed by eighteen. While she was still young, it was clear as day that Bulla was on her way to being a beautiful woman.
Sometimes, the realization made him sad he wasn’t just a bit closer to her age. Of course, he would never tell anyone that. Especially her.
“Bulla,” he murmured.
“Just think of it as an 18th birthday present to me,” she teased halfheartedly, “I know it’s a while off and just a what if scenario, but it would mean a lot.”
Goten couldn’t help but smirk a bit. “You’re persistent, B-Chan,” he snickered, “100% your father’s daughter.”
“Is that a yes?”
Her teal eyes twinkled at him and for just a moment, he caught a glimpse of not B-Chan the little girl, and not B-Chan the melodramatic teenager—but Bulla the young woman she was slowly becoming.
It gave him such a pause, the ice cream melted onto his hand. “Oh shit,” he cursed, immediately regretting doing so in front of her. In one fell swoop, he ate the rest of his cone and patted his hand with as many napkins as he could. He’d hoped with the commotion it would distract her, but Bulla held her ground, not looking away to even blink.
“Goten?”
He had to give her some sort of an answer. “I’m sure you’ll be well-versed in kissing by then, B-Chan.”
“Hypothetically though,” Bulla stated, “what if I’m not?”
Goten wanted to tell her the chances of that happening were slim to none, but he needed to maintain some semblance of dignity and decorum. That was not something to say to a teen girl, let alone the daughter of someone who could end his existence in an instant. Even so, his dark eyes met hers and it was over.
Just one look at those painfully captivating baby blues of hers, he knew he was putty in the princess’ hands.
“Hypothetically,” he started off, looking right at her, “if you haven’t had one yet by eighteen, I suppose a quick peck between friends wouldn’t hurt. Only if though.”
Her smile grew even wider. “So…it is a yes!” she confirmed, excitedly.
Goten chuckled, not believing what he was even saying. “Bulla, on the completely off chance that happens, then yes. That’ll be my gift to you, although it feels weird, not to mention a little wrong, saying that out loud.”
Suddenly, he felt the warmth of her arms wrapped around him in a tender hug. Her soft cheek pressed onto his chest and abruptly, Goten’s temperature spiked.
“You promise, Goten? Not just saying that?” she asked genuinely.
He looked down at her, hypnotized by those eyes. A formidable weapon if ever there was one.
“I-I promise, B-Chan.”
A tight squeeze and she released him to resume eating the rest of her ice cream cone, almost unfazed by what just happened. The older man remained stunned on the bench seat. All Goten could do was observe the bluette happily content for the first time the entire day.
-=-=-=-
Afternoon started to fade into dusk as Goten strolled back to Capsule Corp. with Bulla in tow. The two were fairly silent on the walk home, just enjoying each other’s company.
Goten sometimes caught Bulla staring his way and felt a familiar flush on his cheeks, matching hers perfectly. Whether or not her crush on him was misplaced, Goten did feel a sense of flattery to be so highly thought of. A twinge of guilt did creep up inside of him, hoping that Bulla didn’t transfer whatever feelings she had for that stupid school kid onto him. She was so innocent; he could only hope that whoever captured the young girl’s heart next would be gentle with it.
He prayed he wouldn’t ever have to see her cry like he did earlier that day.
As they approached the entrance to her home, Bulla paused and turned towards him.
“The ice cream hit the spot,” Bulla said staring at her feet, “appreciate you cheering me up.”
“Was happy to do it, B-Chan.”
“Goten?”
“Yes?”
She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t voice what she wanted to say. Her head turned away shyly.
Goten couldn’t help but stare at her exposed cheek, which was turning redder by the second. Instinctively, he pressed his lips on the soft skin and Bulla nearly died. “You’re welcome, Princess,” the older hybrid said quietly.
A moment of silence passed over them again, before Goten cleared his throat and opened the door. “After you,” he politely bowed.
Bulla awkwardly shimmied on past him, Goten following close behind.
Trunks was planted exactly where they had left him.
“Took you long enough!” Trunks castigated, still intensely focused on his game. Goten deduced he hadn’t even left his spot in the last hour. He chucked the pint of ice cream right at his friend’s head, to which the older hybrid caught with one hand, the other hand fixed on the controller.
Bulla rolled her eyes as Goten laughed—they were forever linked by their devotion to their pink-haired companion.
“Trunks, I’m sorry for taking up Goten’s time with you,” Bulla apologized. The comment caused her brother to stop his game and look at her directly. He was touched, albeit surprised, to hear her heartfelt apology.
“All good, Bulla—I’m sorry I didn’t come by to check on you. You okay?”
She smiled at her brother and then at Goten. “Much better now,” she confessed. The action caused the younger Son to grin himself. Her mouth contorted into a yawn as she felt herself fading.
“I think I’m going to head up to bed,” the bluette divulged, “busy day.”
“G’night—” Trunks said with a mouthful of rocky road. Rolling her eyes, she focused one more time on his best friend.
“Goodnight, Goten,” Bulla murmured giving him another quick hug, “thanks again.”
He held her, briefly stroking her head before she turned away. “Goodnight, Bulla—" he returned quietly. His attention diverted from her fading form to that of his best friend ravenously consuming the ice cream.
“I was worried you didn’t hear me earlier. I almost wasn’t sure if you were going to bring it back,” Trunks confessed, digging into the pint with reckless abandon. Bulla could hear his voice carry throughout the room as she made her way up the stairs.
“Well, you know me,” she heard Goten start off. “I always keep my promises!” he chimed happily.
Bulla stalled her movement on the stairs, looking back down at the sweet Saiyan with a smile that could melt hearts. She was emanating light all the way from her toes to the tip of her head.
The dark-haired halfling caught her gaze and returned the smile. He gave her a telling nod, and Bulla knew he was a man of his word.
You just know that person is a good person and that they care about you.
While it may have meant waiting a little while longer, Bulla knew she had the right person in mind to share such a special experience with. That night, the young princess slept with Tenten tucked safely under her arm, feeling more at peace than she had in a long time.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
And that concludes our little prologue! Originally, I thought about just jumping in headfirst to the future but there’s so much time unseen between these characters, I wanted to explore that a bit more.
Looking forward to expanding upon everything and getting to the good stuff—just know if you made it through this chapter, I am eternally grateful for you giving this story a shot. Until next time!
-SonChan
Chapter 2: Chapter 1: The Man and The Moon
Summary:
Chapter 1: Bulla turns eighteen and promises are kept.
Notes:
Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan for the concept of Planet Souljin and some future characters. Reminder, I’ll be going based off ages from the guidebooks before DBS retconned a few things—I’m too used to Bulla being born in 778 and can’t adapt LOL
Author’s Note: WOW! Thank you everyone for the kind support so far! I am so humbled and honored to be on the receiving end of such encouragement. Thanks for pushing me forward. I cannot wait to share more of this story and hope it brings as much joy to you as it is bringing to me. Commission artwork in this chapter is done by the incomparable Shironek0!
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: To the Moon & Back, Blue Eyes
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 1: The Man and The Moon
5 years later
“Bulla! Mom says if you’re not out in five minutes, birthday or NO birthday, she’s cancelling the whole thing!”
“In a minute, Trunks!!”
Bulla was putting the finishing touches on her birthday ensemble as her brother bellowed outside of the room. While he was likely working as an agent on behalf of her mother, per his claim, Bulla knew Trunks never missed an opportunity to get her frazzled. However, there was little he could do to deter her mood tonight.
In the mirror, Bulla smoothed out the little black dress she bought with her mother a few weeks prior. Form-fitting and short, the birthday outfit hugged her curves in all the right places, her décolletage revealed just enough to showcase her assets. The shoes she selected matched her dress, albeit with a dash of sparkle to stand out. If there had been any disbelief that Bulla Briefs was now an adult, this dress would put those doubts to bed.
Her nerves revealed themselves through the shakiness of her hands as she clasped the last of her jewelry, a gift of earrings from her father (in actuality, mother) and observed herself in the mirror. Bulla dressed first and foremost for herself, but tonight she was hoping to capture the attention of a certain Saiyan hybrid.
Especially, given what tonight meant to her.
She exhaled slowly, analyzing her frame. Her steadied breathing calmed her nerves a bit, but she still couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy in anticipation.
“As good as I’m gonna get—” Bulla mused, “I just hope it’s enough.”
The Saiyan Princess opened the door to see Trunks leaning up against the wall, smirking. “Glad you could join us this evening, Your Highness,” he stated with a mock bow.
“Please, I was almost done when you felt the need to come screeching for me.”
“Don’t blame me,” he said with a gesture of the hand, “I’m just the messenger.”
Bulla rolled her eyes at her 30-year-old brother who, despite growing up quite a bit since their younger years, was still just a punky kid at heart. He was dressed in a suit, no tie, looking dapper than ever. The heiress knew that any of her mortal friends would be drooling over her sibling at the party, a fact that made her face grimace at the thought. His effect on others even extended to her closest friends, both Marron and Pan included. While the latter had long ended her juvenile crush on the heir, Bulla suspected Marron, who pulled double duty as a close friend to Trunks, always carried a torch for him.
Still, credit where credit is due, the Vegeta Briefs clan were an attractive bunch. Her mother’s age was more apparent, but she nevertheless had the appearance of someone decades younger. Not only that, her father was a genetic marvel with his pure Saiyan genes. Bulla was grateful she had such a strong bloodline, even when it made her recoil thinking about how Trunks also benefited from this.
Trunks’ eyebrows raised when he saw Bulla’s dress. Not that she hadn’t had some questionable clothing choices in the past, a certain red ensemble coming to mind, but the big brother in him couldn’t help but notice her awfully short hemline.
“Geeze Bulla,” he began, “leave something to the imagination.”
“Don’t be gross, Trunks,” she retorted with a hair flip, “I got this dress shopping with Mom.”
“Did she see you in it?!”
“Are you telling me, dear brother, on my birthday of all days that I don’t look nice?” she batted her eyelashes, almost looking as if she could cry. If he didn’t know her better, he’d think that she was.
He sighed. “No, you look—definitely not like a kid anymore,” Trunks remarked.
Bulla did a little spin. “That’s the idea,” she said with a wink, confirming his earlier suspicions.
Trunks folded his arms, in perfect mimicry of their father. “Dad’s going to flip out, even if Mom gave the okay,” he warned.
“Mom assured me that Dad will be on his best behavior tonight, lest he spend the next month sleeping in the gravity room.”
“Just who are you trying to impress, anyways? You don’t really date and it’s not like there’s going to be anyone there you don’t already know.”
“Who says I’m trying to impress anyone?” Bulla lied through her teeth. If Trunks knew the depth of her feelings for Goten went well beyond just a silly crush, he would be besides himself.
The comment was enough to give him some consideration to her words.
Trunks remembered his sister going through a massive shift as she became an older teen. While her youth still shone through in ways related to shopping and hanging out with friends at the mall, the once boy-crazy Bulla was subdued. Though she naturally got attention just for winning the genetic lottery, her motivation dwindled, and Trunks always was curious what happened. It could have been she was just growing up, but knowing Bulla like he did, there was part of him that suspected ulterior motives.
“Suit yourself,” he relented. Trunks put his hand on Bulla’s shoulder and smiled. “You do look very pretty though, Bulla,” her brother confessed, “can’t believe you’re eighteen.”
Bulla pulled her brother into a hug—a sign they had long outgrown their childish antagonizing, even if the two still would tease each other occasionally. “Thanks Trunks,” she murmured back.
He pulled back to kiss her cheek. “C’mon now,” Trunks commented guiding her towards their party room, “before Mom actually does cancel this thing.”
“Oh Trunks, you and I know she’d still have it, I would just not be able to attend.”
Trunks chuckled to himself. His sister had a point.
-=-=-=-
Bulma Briefs could do a lot of things, and throwing a lavish soiree was certainly one of them. She spared no expense for her daughter’s milestone birthday.
A black and white theme set the tone with ample balloons and lighting. The hired crew matched perfectly along with a plentiful buffet and drinks table. Music played in the background as her beloved husband sulked in the corner. Bulma was conducting the bevy of activity when her two children made their way into the room.
“About time you two,” Bulma chided, “Bulla, I was this close to cancelling—”
“I know, I know,” Bulla began hugging her mother. “Thanks Mom, it all looks wonderful.”
Bulma stroked the back of her daughter’s head and kissed it. “Of course. Happy birthday sweetie,” she whispered.
“I think this is my cue to start pouring myself a drink…” Trunks trailed off heading towards the bar before his mother grabbed his collar.
“Oh no you don’t,” she snapped, “put up these streamers first on the ceiling, the ladder wasn’t tall enough to reach.”
“Mom—” Trunks whined.
“Just do it boy,” Vegeta barked at his son, appearing out from the corner in which he was sulking.
“You couldn’t have helped?” Trunks questioned his father.
“Please,” Bulma shook her head, “your father even gracing us with his presence is a sheer miracle—in spite of my threats, he nearly stayed inside the gravity room!”
“Woman, you know how I hate these ridiculous affairs…”
“WOMAN?! I AM YOUR WIFE. DO NOT MAKE ME UPSET TONIGHT, VEGETA. THIS NIGHT IS FOR YOUR DAUGHTER.”
“Okay, okay…” Bulla slinked in between her feuding parents. “Enough of that,” she said, turning towards Vegeta. “Daddy, thank you for the earrings, they’re beautiful,” Bulla murmured hugging her father, changing the subject for the sake of them all.
Vegeta shot his daughter a strange look, turning to Bulma who made a knowing gesture for him to realize the gift she gave on his behalf. He returned the hug and glanced at his “gift” shining brightly on Bulla’s earlobes.
“They suit you,” the Saiyan Prince said softly. Bulla pulled him into a tighter hug.
“Well thank you again,” she began, stepping back. Vegeta’s eyes bugged out when he finally saw his daughter’s short dress, looking once more at Bulma, whose death stare this time was deadlier than before. Vegeta clenched his fist, knowing he couldn’t make a scene.
“Bulla,” he started carefully, “careful you don’t catch a cold in that.”
“It’s the end of July, Dad; I’ll be fine.”
“That’s not what I mea—”
Bulma’s vein nearly popped out to smack Vegeta but he refrained from finishing his original sentence. “You look very—grown, Bulla,” the elder Saiyan said instead.
Trunks groaned. He missed the unspoken conversation between his parents and assumed that Bulla’s Saiyan Princess juju was at work again, like it always was. “Fine, I’ll go put these up,” he stated mid-flight.
The heiress smiled, a small victory for the evening.
-=-=-=-
Bulla graciously greeted her guests as they came; a few from her high school days yet most of them part of Z Fighters. Mixed parties like these were always interesting to see how everyone would react. She placated her human friends with her a hello here, and a compliment there, but her interest was more so on the group that was like a second family to her.
From the Z Fighters, she already had worked her way welcoming a good portion of them. Tien and Chiaotzu arrived promptly, as did the Kame Island household. Yamcha commented on Bulla’s appearance and to her horror, she realized her dress was doing its job a little too well. Piccolo and Dende were chatting in the corner with Bulma, soon joined by Oolong and Puar. Android 18 was quiet against the wall, eerily similar to Vegeta, while Krillin was making the rounds.
Marron broke off from her parents to hang out with Bulla, which the younger girl was very thankful for. Her best friend looked stunning in a flowy, white dress that seemed to catch the attention of Trunks, who was eyeing her from the bar. As the two made eye contact, the blonde couldn’t help but grin. The watchful Bulla caught Marron smiling in his direction and saw her brother eyeballing their mutual friend.
“Your dress seems to be of interest to my brother,” Bulla teased her friend, who blushed.
“Oh, Bulla come on,” Marron waved, “it is not.”
“Marron, it totally does! Look, he’s coming over here.”
“He’s what—?!”
“Well, well,” Trunks appeared with a scotch in hand, and a gin and tonic for Marron, her go to drink of choice. She appeared pleased that he remembered. “Take note everyone,” he said with a sip, “we’ve got the Virgin Marron in the house.”
Marron’s blushing grew more intense, contrasting with her white ensemble. “Don’t call me that,” she said puffing out her chest, which seemed to amuse Trunks all the more so. She was very cute when she was angry.
“What? You look like something out of Cherubs-R-Us.”
“Trunks, a compliment wouldn’t kill you once in a while,” Bulla said crossing her arms, “Marron looks absolutely alluring in that color, doesn’t she?”
Her brother attempted to fake disinterest. “I guess I’m just used to you in pigtails and pink,” he commented. Marron stirred her drink, unamused.
“I’m allowed to change my look, aren’t I?” she said in a tone like her mother’s. Though typically sweet, Marron could go toe-to-toe with the young prince any day, friend or not.
“You’re allowed to do whatever you please, Marron,” Trunks replied, “even scare off men with your outfit.”
That infuriated her.
“I’ll have you know,” Marron began turning to face him, “Yamcha thought I looked very beautiful tonight.”
“Marron!” he screamed aghast with shock. “Come on, that’s the last guy that you should be looking to impress,” Trunks cringed in horror at the thought of a May/December romance between the two.
“I’m not trying to impress him, jerk,” Marron retorted, “I’m saying I did impress him. Clearly, I caught your eye too otherwise you’d still be at the bar.”
His gobsmacked look was all she needed to confirm that she won this round of banter.
Bulla’s eyes darted back and forth at their repartee, loving her brother receiving some comeuppance for once. Marron used to be a lot quieter when they were younger, which made her an easy target for Trunks and Goten’s shenanigans. As she aged, she took on some of her mother’s personality that came out in small moments…those moments usually provoked by Trunks himself. The heiress chuckled at how their dynamic almost reminded her of her parents.
“Bulla!”
The birthday girl turned to see her other best friend Pan arriving with her family and Uub, stepping away from her brother and Marron momentarily. Both Pan and Uub appeared harmonized with similar black and white clothing. Though the invitation her mother sent called for themed attire, Bulla couldn’t help to think the two had matched on purpose. The student of Goku sure had been spending more time with the Sons outside of training, and Bulla was keen to tease Pan her thoughts on the reasoning for it.
“Pan!” she exclaimed embracing her. Bulla turned to Uub and gave him a quick hug as well.
“Happy birthday, Bulla!” Uub exclaimed.
“Thanks for coming you guys,” she started to say, eyeing the two. “You both look very…coordinated.”
Uub blushed slightly while the younger Saiyan hybrid rolled her eyes. “Not like we had a choice,” she started to say, “your mom was adamant about the dress code this time.”
Bulla gleamed. “True, true, anyways you guys look great!” she complimented, taking note of Pan in a skirt for once. “Like a proper lady.”
“Alright, don’t push it, Princess,” Pan said, mock jabbing her.
“Bulla, dear!” Chi-Chi had made her way over with the rest of the Son clan to embrace the young woman. A bit overwhelmed by the amount of people circling her at once, Bulla attempted to just enjoy the moment with the mother of the boy she liked so much. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
“Thank you so much, Chi-Chi!” she replied beaming.
“My, oh my! You look beautiful,” the Son matriarch commented, twirling her.
Goku cut in with a pat on her back. “Hey Bulla!” Goku exclaimed, “Wow! You really look just like your mom did at your age.”
A faint flush appeared on Bulla’s cheeks. She cleared her throat, “Mom will be excited to see all of you!”
She embraced the rest of the clan and said her greetings to them all—Goku, Gohan, Videl—save for one missing person.
“Oh, is Goten here?” Bulla tried to ask casually, without hinting to the purpose of her questioning.
“He’s still tied up at work,” Gohan explained.
“It’s my dad’s fault,” Videl interjected, “the dojo was insanely busy for a Saturday and Dad double booked Goten. He hopes to be here as soon as possible!”
Bulla remained unfazed on the surface, but her heart quickened. The thought of Goten possibly not coming was certainly not on her radar. Still, she refrained from showing any hint of disappointment. “Well, I’m glad all of you could make it!” she bowed politely before joining Pan and Uub in front of the drinks.
Nearby, Trunks and Marron were chatting and tiptoed on over to the younger crew. “Hi Pan, hi Uub!” Marron cheerily said. She embraced them both as Trunks gave a fist bump to the Uub and patted Pan’s shoulder.
“Marron, your white dress is so cute!” Pan commented. Everyone shot her a strange look. “What? I can’t appreciate fashion because I fight?” she wondered.
“No, it’s not that,” Trunks started off, “we just figured you didn’t appreciate it because you’re, well—YOU.”
Marron smacked the back of Trunks’ head. “Be nice!” she insisted. He rubbed the small bump that was forming, reminded that despite a fragile appearance, Marron was no delicate flower.
“Geeze, that’s the second time tonight, Mare,” he reproached.
The blonde shrugged. “Not my fault you wouldn’t stop calling me the Virgin Marron in this thing,” she chided. Uub began to chuckle a bit until Pan shot him a look.
“I see someone is a glutton for punishment,” Uub declared.
“Not a glutton, just a lush,” Trunks corrected, grabbing a new scotch from the bar.
“Whatever you are tonight, Mr. President, you’re on my last nerves,” Marron turned her head, arms crossed.
“Marron, you wound me,” Trunks feigned offense, “you know I tease because I’ve got a thing for blondes.”
“A word of advice, Your Highness,” Marron mocked bowed, “women would prefer to be wooed than teased.”
“And men prefer being satisfied than left wanting,” Trunks sipped his drink once more, turning to Uub for confirmation but none was to be had.
“You’re such a boy,” Pan shook her head at the eldest hybrid, “even Uncle Goten is more mature than you.”
Marron’s eyes lit up at the name. “Oh Goten!” she exclaimed totally forgetting Trunks’ crude comments. “Where is your uncle anyways?” Marron asked the younger woman.
Bulla loosened at the mention of Goten’s name again, hoping no one saw her nerves.
“Yeah,” Trunks added, “I texted him hours ago, no response yet.”
“Stuck at Grandpa Hercule’s dojo—he should be here soon,” Pan returned. The oldest members of the group shrugged. Their dynamic in twosomes never was quite the same without the third, especially in the case of Trunks and Marron. Goten was their balance.
“Sensei Goku is making good work of the buffet,” Uub chimed noticing his teacher getting yelled at by Vegeta for the mess he was making. “If we want to eat, we’d better grab something soon!”
The group nodded, but Bulla lingered back. “Enjoy the food guys, I have to continue making the rounds for a bit,” she explained.
Marron nodded. “I’ll make you a plate!” she offered sweetly, returning to the more Krillin side of her personality.
Bulla beamed as her brother and friends turned. She let out a huge exhale. The commotion around her was getting to be intense and she needed some fresh air.
-=-=-=-
Amidst the booming music and dozens of conversations being had at once, Bulla snuck out of her party to find solace in the empty terrace overlooking the city. She leaned over the railing and sighed in relief. While she very much enjoyed being the center of attention that evening, playing the guest of honor was exhausting.
Especially when she had so much on her mind…
Bulla reveled in the sounds of the city, various alarms and horns going off, the night creatures cooing and making their presence known. She looked up at the pale moonlight, and noticed its rare, bluish tint. Part of her had to laugh at the amusing coincidence. The heavily blue-featured princess would have a blue moon on her birthday of all days—it was only fitting.
Still, as lovely of a night as it was, she couldn’t help but feel as though something was missing. A stupidly handsome Saiyan-hybrid that captured her heart long ago.
Her childish crush on Goten never waned; it only grew deeper. The older she became, the more that Son Goten seemed to find his way under her skin. It didn’t help that he was around often, like a second brother. Neither did the fact that he flourished as he aged, more attractive of a specimen than he was before. Not once leaving her dreams nor her physical vicinity, he was always there reminding her of something beautiful she couldn’t have.
Goten was her brother’s best friend—already claimed years before she was even born. Bulla never stood a chance there. Trunks and Goten were an inseparable duo that made her potential partnership with the Son man all the more complicated. And then fate was cruel enough to decide her birth would follow nearly eleven years after his. For them to be together and not have it considered a crime was just finally allowable today of all days, her eighteenth year. Though Bulla had finished high school early and already had two college degrees, her mind’s advanced age did little to help change the numbers on the calendar.
On top of that, Goten had the misfortune of being one of “Kakarot’s spawn” as her father so lovingly referred to him as. While she knew Vegeta’s relationship with Goku was closer to friends than rivals, he wouldn’t dare admit it to anyone.
The only solace Bulla took was knowing that Goten had been single again for some time now. He and Valese were constantly on again, off again – emphasis currently on the off part. Though Goten dated around, Valese was probably his longest relationship even with their time apart. Bulla couldn’t help but feel pangs of jealousy towards a woman who had never done anything to her except be with the man she desired most.
Even without her strong feelings for Goten however, Bulla felt the pair was always mismatched. Valese, though lovely, could be a bit ditzy and while Goten was no scholar like his brother, Bulla had a hard time believing the two were on the same level intellectually.
Who was she kidding though? A single Goten didn’t make him any more available to her than a taken one. Bulla had been far more brazen as a young teen with her affection for him. Goten, level-headed and sweet as ever, knew how to spurn her advances in the gentlest of ways. Though it had been a long time since Bulla attempted to charm him, she couldn’t help but feel that he’d always see her as just a kid.
A silly, lovestruck kid.
Yet, her heartstrings strummed with the faintest of hope. The promise Goten made her five years ago was likely just a polite way to pacify an infatuated teenager. Still, she recalled that moment in her home where they locked eyes after he assured her brother about keeping promises. While he was speaking to Trunks at the time, when their gaze met, Bulla knew in her heart he was speaking to her too.
It sounded preposterous; she knew that. Part of why she refrained from mentioning the promise to anyone else was to ensure its sacredness. Though it was hard to not say anything to her best friend Marron (easier to not say anything to her other best friend Pan, as Goten’s niece) or even her mother, Bulla wanted that vow to be kept between Goten and herself.
All the same, she couldn’t help but wonder if he even remembered the promise. To his credit, it’s not like the day was as impactful to Goten as it had been for Bulla. In some ways, he helped changed the trajectory of her life. Never again did she find herself weeping over some stupid human boy that she could crush with her pinky finger. Long before she began training with her father, her natural genetic code made her far stronger than any earthling man could ever presume to be. She was done with immature boys who cared little for who she was as a person. Goten helped her realize that day it was worth it to hold out for someone good.
Granted, she knew he meant someone other than him, but Bulla was already so taken with the half-Saiyan from childhood, it was easy for her to dream.
The brilliant inventor dove into her studies and work at Capsule Corporation (interning as young as 15) and focused on herself. Though as she aged, the offers were plentiful from men both her age and older. Her nose squinted at some less than genteel comments she’d get by just simply walking down the street. To her credit, Bulla always looked a bit older than she was but even still, the uncouth nature of some mortal men made her skin crawl.
It only solidified her affection for Goten, who for all his unmindful nature when it came to Bulla’s feelings, never said a crass or inappropriate word to her. The way he spoke to Bulla, even when she was younger, was always in a mature manner – he never babied her.
Bulla was innocent but not naïve; she knew the likelihood of the tables turning were as rare as the blue moon overhead. However, as rare as they were, blue moons still happened. Was it so naïve to think the same could happen for her?
Her heart thumped in anticipation, wondering if the man who captured her attention all those years ago actually would show.
“Hey B-Chan!”
Bulla shifted from the rail, startled as a familiar voice broke her concentration. Even in the dim moonlight, she could make out that figure anywhere. “Goten!” she exclaimed, surprised that she seemingly summoned him out of nowhere.
Goten appeared to her smiling wide and looking handsome as ever. The normally informal demi-Saiyan was sporting a sharp blazer and dress shirt, not missing a beat about Bulma’s dress code request. He rubbed the back of his head.
“Whoops, didn’t mean to startle you!” Goten sheepishly lamented.
Bulla beamed, trying to not let her reddening face distract her in any way. “You’re fine,” she began, “although, I was beginning to worry you forgot about me!”
The thought prompted Goten to chuckle. “As if I could forget about the birthday girl herself,” he said embracing her in a solid hug. Bulla radiated heat from the inside out, feeling like the sun was erupting next to her. Goten slowly drew back and analyzed her form. She could tell he was eyeing her up and down, likely inspecting her birthday outfit, much to her delight. His mouth grew agape. “You look…”
Bulla caught her breath as he hesitated.
“…you look beautiful, B-Chan.”
The way he said those words seemed far different from the other compliments she had received from him in the past. Goten would call her pretty or cute, usually at her behest or when feeling insecure, but beautiful was new. She blushed tucking loose strands behind her ear.
“You’re sweet,” she uttered gently, “no need to butter me up though. I forgive you for being late.”
Her smile was met with a foreign look from Goten. His visage remained the same as it had been, still taking note of her figure. Bulla cocked her head to the side. “Goten?” she asked.
A few blinks later, Goten broke his gaze. “Sorry,” he muttered, “I um, just wasn’t expecting you to be out here by yourself. I figured I could have snuck in quietly. Are you not having fun at the party?”
“Oh, a lot of fun,” Bulla insisted with a wave of her hand, “as usual, Mom has outdone herself. It’s just overwhelming being the guest of honor.”
Goten sprouted his famous grin. “You? Not liking being the center of attention? Hmm, maybe you have grown up,” he teased. Bulla punched him in the arm.
“Cut it out—still my birthday after all,” she joked.
Her companion feigned injury. “Dang, Bulla—that was a pretty strong hit,” he said impressed, “what are you, training with Vegeta now?”
“I am,” she admitted proudly. Goten blinked.
“Wait really?!” he could scarcely believe the princess, who avoided training like the plague in her younger years, was suddenly practicing with her father. “Since when?” Goten wondered.
“Last year. I told him I wanted to learn a couple moves, you know, just for self-defense,” she started, “but little did I know he heard that as request for an entire teaching regiment.”
Bulla chuckled reminiscing how quickly Vegeta sprang into action to educate his daughter in the way of the Saiyans. Though she never thought she would, Bulla enjoyed her sparring lessons with her father. It was good quality bonding time and on top of that, she had one more thing in common with her brother and their friends. One more thing in common with him.
Goten could hardly imagine her tale, but it pleased him all the same. “Keeping secrets from me I see,” he said admiringly.
“More than you realize, Son Goten,” Bulla thought. She shook her head to change the subject.
“Enough about me,” the lovely hybrid continued. “While I can forgive tardiness, I am curious what took you so long, Goten. Not polite to keep a princess waiting,” she teased.
The older halfling reached for a box that he had kept expertly hidden behind him. “No excuse, but work unfortunately kept me over today, and needed some time to make sure I got you the perfect gift,” Goten admitted.
The Saiyan Princess, never one to refuse a present, eagerly took the box. “Goten, you didn’t have to get me a gift…” she insisted to be well-mannered.
“Says the woman who shops like her life depends on it.”
Bulla rolled her eyes as she loosened the ribbon in her hands. With gentle care, she opened the lid of the box to reveal a bevy of chocolate kisses. A smile spread across her face and ultimately turned into uproarious laughter.
“Goten!”
He chuckled to himself. “Promised you your first birthday kiss-es,” the dark-haired Saiyan joked with her, revealing his memory about the promise was intact.
Bulla couldn’t help but laugh harder. She knew that, while her heart hoped for a different type of kiss, the fact that Goten was so sickeningly charming to give her the chocolates delighted her to no end.
“I can’t believe you remembered,” she whispered looking up at him.
The hairs she previously adjusted became loose again and Goten took a moment to brush them out of her face. “Well, you know me,” he said quietly, “always have to keep my promises.”
His hand lingered on her face and Bulla’s heart nearly stopped. Onyx eyes met her blue orbs, staring at her as intently as he had earlier in the night. The bluette opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Goten broke the silence for the both of them, however. “I wanted to have a backup since—well, since I figured the original promise was invalid.”
“Why do you say that?”
“B-Chan—”
He looked at her incredulously. “I-I just assumed you’ve already been kissed,” Goten stammered, hand still pressed to her cheek.
Bulla swallowed hard. “Why?” she murmured, quieter than before.
“Because you’re…” Goten couldn’t bring himself to say anything further. Could’ve been the moonlight playing tricks on her, but Bulla thought he appeared closer to her face than she recalled previously. The older man was positively radiant in front of her. She knew one thing for certain though—
He had never looked at her quite in that way.
Before she could ask another question, the distance between them lessened further. In one fell swoop, the birthday girl felt Goten’s lips upon her own, the sensation unlike anything she had experienced before.
As they kissed, he delicately cupped her face, with his other hand joining its partner. His grip was firm, but gentle. Bulla tried to process everything while savoring the moment.
The older man tasted like toffee and spice, his musky fragrance permeating her nostrils. Bulla froze, not sure what to do, but soon her instincts kicked in to return the kiss. Her free arm wrapped around his neck as she held on to his present in the other. Eventually, she let go of the box and hoped her gift would be in once piece.
Bulla assumed it would be over by now and started to slink away, but Goten held the back of her head and brought her in close again, lengthening their time together. That move alone was enough to drive her mad in the best way possible. She pressed her palm on his chest, relishing every second of her fantasy.
Artwork by the amazing Shironek0
Soon enough, the two drifted for real this time and remained inches away from each other.
She was in a haze, scarcely believing the moment she had dreamed about hundreds of times in her head not only came true, but was far better than she could have imagined. He tasted so good—Goten’s lips were soft yet strong, his flavoring both enticing and inviting. When he had pulled her in to deepen the kiss, Bulla couldn’t tell if she felt a flick of his tongue or not, but whatever that man did worked to leave her completely satisfied with her first kiss.
Goten inhaled deeply before opening his eyes again, as if he was attempting to breathe in her scent. “Happy birthday, B-Chan...” he whispered slowly.
Bulla could barely move, let alone reply. She could only manage to breathe out a quick utterance of his name before he continued.
“I guess that should set the bar pretty high for you then,” the older demi-Saiyan said with a wink. His attempt to break up the seriousness of the moment was evident, though Bulla appreciated the levity. She shook her head.
“So full of yourself, Son Goten,” the princess murmured, a pleased smirk across her face. She didn’t want to have the moment seem so heavy either, but for her, it was life changing. He bent over to grab her box of chocolates, stealing one before handing it back to her.
“Hey!” she smacked his arm again and this time he whined in pain.
“Ow—okay, okay. Now that you’re training, I’m going to have to remember to stay on your good side,” Goten teased.
She tossed her hair, feeling emboldened from the earlier connection. “Every side is my good side,” Bulla claimed, “in case you haven’t noticed.”
Bulla could have sworn she saw Goten bite his lip for a second, but quickly convinced it was the darkness playing tricks on her again. She could tell he almost wanted to say something but didn’t, though either way, he was clearly amused.
“We should get you inside, Princess,” Goten returned softly.
The heiress still needed a minute to catch her breath. “I’ll meet you there,” she promised, “wanted to get one last bout of fresh air before heading back in.”
Goten hesitated for a moment, but then gave her another quick hug. “Don’t take too long, birthday girl,” he whispered, “someone in there is bound to miss you.”
She breathed him deeply, trying to memorize every fragrant note. “Goten,” Bulla tightened her grip on him, “thanks…again for my present.”
His arms strengthened around her, planting a chaste kiss to her head like he’d done many times in the past. This time, she noticed, he did linger a bit longer than usual. As they pulled away, Goten’s smile widened, shooting her a peace sign goodbye. Bulla couldn’t help but watch his fading form, hoping that he may turn around to look to her once more. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized he did just that. The moonlight illuminated his beautiful face and Bulla could tell that something, somehow, had changed.
She just didn’t know what, exactly.
-=-=-=-
“There you are!”
Bulla turned around from the railing to see Marron and Pan walking towards her, still legless from her earlier encounter minutes before. “We were wondering where you went to,” Marron continued.
Pan nodded. “You’re not getting out of your own party, Blue!” she kidded.
Bulla smiled at them. “Never,” she vowed, “I just needed to step outside for some fresh air.”
“I don’t know how fresh it’s going to be from the city,” Pan said with a sniff of the polluted atmosphere, a country girl at heart, “but you’ve been out here long enough.”
“Yeah, your mom wants to do a toast for you!” Marron chimed in. She looped her arm around Bulla’s and Pan looped hers on the other side. Pan saw the chocolates in Bulla’s hand and was intrigued.
“Ooh, do you have a secret admirer, Bulla?” Pan wondered as the birthday girl blushed.
“No, nothing like that,” she insisted, “just a birthday gift.”
“From who?”
“Pan, c’mon we can ask her later—they’re all in there waiting for cake!”
Bulla thanked Kami for little miracles.
With Marron and Pan on either arm, Bulla returned indoors to see that Bulma was getting ready to put the dessert out. As it rolled by, the massive seven-layer tiered cake matched the decorations perfectly with sparkler candles. The girls were given glasses of champagne for the toast as they stood around the other guests, flutes in hand, eagerly waiting on dessert. Bulla spied Goten and Trunks laughing it up with Uub and she smiled. Her mother’s eyes spotted her return and grabbed the microphone to speak.
“Everyone!” Bulma announced with a clink of the glass, drawing Bulla’s attention as well as the rest of the party. “I want to raise a toast to my beloved daughter Bulla, who makes me proud every day of the woman she’s become!”
The others followed suit as Bulma raised her glass, leaving Bulla to feel a surge of joy. “Bulla, may this year be your best one yet!” Bulma ended taking a sip.
As she was toasted by her friends and family, Bulla felt immensely loved. Her blue eyes sought out one pair in particular, a pair that was situated right by her brother.
His gentle, obsidian orbs met hers finally and Bulla couldn’t help but blush. She didn’t break her gaze but examined him all the more intently.
Goten smiled back at her, returning a knowing look to the princess as he sipped his champagne in her honor.
Along the wall, as everyone cheered, Vegeta smirked; silently swelling with pride at his daughter becoming a woman. She looked beautiful and delighted—something that made the Saiyan Prince content and, dare he say, even happy.
His eyes attempted to catch hers, but Bulla was only focused on one thing during the toast.
One person, rather.
Vegeta took notice of his daughter’s expression towards the younger of Kakarot’s sons, and it was apparent that Goten was returning the same look at her. The brat had been around his daughter numerous times in the past and never had that expression before. Though his ki spiked briefly, Vegeta remained unclenched against the wall, not moving a muscle. He just made a mental note to observe future interactions between the two.
And he would be observing, closely.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Let’s gooooooo! Chapter 1 and done. Nothing will be the same after this. What’s next??
Chapter 2: Goten reflects upon the evening of Bulla’s birthday, recalling events from his perspective, and can’t seem to get her quite out of his head.
Thank you again for all the feedback so far, everyone. Your reviews help encourage me so much!
-SonChan
Chapter 3: Chapter 2: New Light
Summary:
Chapter 2: Goten reflects upon the evening of Bulla’s birthday, recalling events from his perspective, and can’t seem to get her quite out of his head.
Notes:
Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan for the concept of Planet Souljin and some future characters.
Author’s Note: Eeek! I’m so happy the last chapter was well-received. It was hard not going into Goten’s head with everything, but I felt it was a moment that need two separate perspectives at different times. I’m eager to see how people respond to where Goten is coming from—let me know! Reviews are always appreciated.
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: How Do You Love Me, new light
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 2: New Light
3 months earlier
“Truuunks—hey Truuunks, c’mon open up!”
Goten, one hand clutching a bottle of whiskey, knocked furiously with his free hand on the door to Trunks’ home pod. Situated on the Capsule Corporation property, away from the main house and business. It gave a sense of privacy but still close enough for a certain blue-eyed girl to observe the scene from afar.
The demi-Saiyan took a swig from the container, stumbling momentarily before regaining balance once more. He rapped upon the door harder this time. “Truuunks, buddy…I really need to talk…” Goten exclaimed, loud enough to be heard by the whole household.
Or, if not the whole household, at least Vegeta who was oh so conveniently leaving the gravity room at that time.
“What in the name of all the gods is going on out here?" he growled.
Goten tried to straighten up, but he was clearly drunk. "Hey, Veg-ge-geta. Is Trunks home?" he slurred.
Vegeta shook his head. "No, he's away on a business retreat,” he responded, indignant. His nostrils sniffed the younger man and recoiled immediately. “And you reek of alcohol, boy. Go sleep it off."
Just then, Bulla walked up behind Vegeta. "I've got this, Dad," she said, smiling at Goten. The Saiyan Prince muttered under his breath and removed himself from the situation.
Goten's face lit up at the sight of her; a beacon of hope in blue. “B-Chan! My bestest Bulla,” he said eagerly latching onto her. His weight wobbled and she lifted him to rest on her shoulder. It wasn’t the first time Bulla saw Goten plastered, but it was the first time Trunks was not with him when he was.
“Whoa there, big fella,” she steadied him, “let’s get you inside.”
“You so smart—you so, so smart, B-Chan,” Goten slurred as they hobbled towards the living area.
Bulla placed him upright on the couch as he was about to take yet another swig of his bottle. “Oh no you don’t,” she stated, snatching the bottle from his hand. Bulla grabbed a glass of water for him to replace. “Drink this instead,” the blue-eyed girl insisted.
The other Saiyan gulped down what he could before needing to breathe again.
“Much better,” Bulla smiled. She put some pillows behind Goten to keep him propped up.
“S’anks B,” he replied, “where’s…Trunks…?”
Goten already forgot what Vegeta had told him. Bulla placed her delicate hand on his shoulder. “He’s overnight at a conference, should be back tomorrow.”
His face fell, disappointed. “Oh,” he began softly, “so…he can’t talk.”
A encouraging look from the bluette lifted his spirits. “He can’t right now,” she started off softly, “but maybe I can?”
Those blue eyes could do no wrong as Goten stared into them. She appeared so concerned, so eager to be a listening ear for him.
“Val…” he trailed off, heartburn hitting him, “…ese. Valese dumped me.”
Goten observed her flinch for moment. Too quick to know for sure. She wrapped her arms around his free arm and let out a compassionate sigh. “I’m really sorry, Goten.”
His head leaned on hers, appreciating her care and warmth. “S’okay,” Goten slurred again, “I’m jus’ dumb.”
Bulla’s eyes looked pained. “You’re not dumb” she murmured, “it’s sad when relationships end.”
“I jus’ thought,” Goten replied, hiccupping, “jus’ thought maybe it would work this time.”
“It’s been a few times, hasn’t it?”
“This was number…”
Goten took a minute to figure out how many fingers. As the lightbulb clicked, he put up three.
“Th-three.”
Bulla’s face fell. “I know you really like her, Goten,” he could see her wince a bit again, “but it seems as if there’s a disconnect.”
Though inebriated, Goten understood what she meant. “I don’t know…what I’m…doing wrong.”
“Maybe you aren’t,” Bulla offered, “maybe she’s not. Maybe it’s not doing something wrong but maybe—being wrong for each other.”
Bulla blushed in front of him, but Goten was curious about her words.
“What…do you mean?”
“Both of you can be good people, but that doesn’t mean they’re the right person for you.”
“You told me a long time ago,” she began, remembering, “that you’ll know the right person because they’ll be a good person and they care about you. But more importantly, there aren’t any doubts.”
“I…thought…Valese cared,” he admitted sadly. Bulla leaned on his shoulder.
“She could, Goten,” Bulla looked downwards, Goten thought he saw her eyes glossing over. “She could care a lot, but if you have doubts or if she has doubts, then perhaps it’s for a reason.”
“B-Chan…”
Her face turned towards him, looking up thoughtfully. “There are lots of good people in this world, Goten. Lots of people who care about you.”
Goten saw her mouth purse, as if to say something else, but she refrained. Those lips. His memory reminded him that there was a promise attached to those lips.
“You’re a good…person, Bulla,” he garbled out, fixing his gaze on her face. The comment made the younger girl blush.
“Thanks Goten,” Bulla acknowledged, “so are you.”
With his inhibitions lowered, by both the alcohol and comfort level, Goten’s eyes trailed over her form.
“…and so…so pretty.”
The comment caused her back to straighten in response. Her mouth agape but wordless. After the initial shock wore off, Bulla smiled faintly at her drunken companion, “Goten, I think you should drink more water. It’ll help.”
After helping him to take another sip, Goten’s eyes were clouded but intent on her. He leaned in resting his forehead slightly above Bulla’s ear to whisper to her. “Shh,” a finger pressed to his lips, “remember it’s…a secret.”
“What is?” she asked him quietly, a momentarily tremble.
“Our secret,” Goten murmured as her eyes widened, “haven’t forgotten.”
“Goten what—”
“That I’m…” he leaned back, wobbling where he sat, “…gonna…gonna c’miss you in a few months.”
“Goten, you’re slurring your words,” she spoke gently, “what are you saying?”
“Gonna c’miss you,” he repeated, still incoherent. Goten cleared his throat. “it’s too early…but almost time…gonna do it. Wasn’t gonna. But…I want to.”
His indistinct drawl made it nearly impossible for Bulla to comprehend what he was stating to her. A momentary thought crossed her mind, at least from what Goten could surmise in his state, but she just as soon shook her head.
“You should get some sleep,” Bulla commented, grabbing a blanket to drape over the older man. His eyes drooped, the alcohol finally making him sleepy.
“Bulla,” he breathed, “thanks for…being here.”
She squeezed his hand as he closed his eyes, drifting asleep.
“I’ll always be here for you, Goten.”
-=-=-=-
The next morning, Goten woke up to the sound of Trunks entering the house. He groaned, feeling the pounding headache of a hangover. The younger demi-Saiyan rubbed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened the previous night.
Trunks, all dressed up from his business conference, came into the living room surprised to see Goten still there. "Hey man, what happened last night? I got a call from Dad saying you were drunk and banging on my door.”
Goten's face flushed with embarrassment as he tried to recall the details. "Shit Trunks, I’m sorry,” he began rubbing his face. The hybrid struggled to wake himself.
“I—well I was looking for you and forgot you were out of town,” he started off, “I had been drinking nearby and stopped over. Your dad almost ran me out, but Bulla set me up on the couch to sleep it off.”
A flicker of interest made Trunks’ eyebrows perk up at the mention of his sister’s name. “Everything okay, dude?”
“Valese broke things off…” he responded sadly. The Son man sighed a knowing sigh, “…and I didn’t really take it all that well,” Goten admitted.
Trunks sighed, shaking his head sympathetically. “I’m sorry, bro,” he stated, hand on his friend’s shoulder. His gaze grew stern.
“It’s not like it’s the first time though, man,” Trunks continued, “obviously, it’s a pattern. If she’s not calling it off, then you are. Just a constant cycle with you two.”
“I know,” Goten shifted his eyes downwards, “I don’t know why this time felt different. I guess—”
“Guessed what?”
“—I guess I thought third time’s a charm. Clearly not.”
His best friend pulled him in for a side hug. "You need to stop letting her get to you like this, Goten. Regardless of how pretty or nice she is, she's not worth it."
The younger man nodded, feeling grateful for Trunks' advice, and understanding.
As he turned to leave, Bulla walked into the room, looking fresh and put-together. She was carrying a tray of breakfast for him and set it down on the coffee table. Goten felt his heart skip a beat as she smiled at him.
"Hey, sleepyhead," she greeted cheerfully. "You had quite the night last night."
Trunks raised an eyebrow, looking from Bulla to Goten. "Did I miss something here?"
No one responded to elder hybrid, as if he disappeared from the room entirely.
The dark-haired man cringed, feeling mortified and like an absolute idiot. "I'm really sorry about that," he said, looking at her sheepishly.
Bulla shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she said. "You were just sad, Goten. We've all been there.”
Goten sighed, a wave of relief washing over him as Bulla treated him normally. He apologized again for his behavior, and Bulla nodded, accepting his apology.
"Let's just forget about it and move on, okay?" she said, giving him a small smile.
Goten nodded, feeling grateful for her kindness. That smile warmed him, and he vaguely recalled being attracted to her lips the evening before, but tried to shake that image away. He hugged her tightly, almost like he had been given a second chance. "Thank you, Bulla," he said. "You're an amazing friend."
She shifted at the word “friend” for a second, almost inconspicuously, but Goten noticed. Her blue eyes veered upwards and caught his attention, as they so often did.
“You just deserve to be happy, Goten.”
-=-=-=-
30 minutes earlier
Goten didn’t deserve happiness; he thought, he deserved to be blasted from here to the high heavens.
He was such a dumbass.
That night three months earlier was a constant source of embarrassment for Goten. Not only had he let himself get shitfaced over Valese of all things, he made a scene in front of Vegeta and even worse, Bulla. Though she was more than gracious and acted as if nothing happened, Goten knew better.
What an idiot he was.
Here was this sweet girl trying to make him feel better and his reserves decided to fall to the wayside. Goten remembered being far too close to her face and saying how great and pretty she was. All true things, but Goten was the last guy who should be thinking that.
The last guy who should be saying that.
Though, as much as he tried to deny it, Goten was more than aware of the blossoming Bulla underwent these past few years. This was the secret he worked so hard to keep from not only her, but anyone around her.
As a younger kid and teenager, it was easy to remove Bulla from his mind. She was a child. She wasn’t an option. Point blank.
Not that she was an option now, of course, but Goten noticed in the last few months, he was fighting a different sensation altogether.
Attraction.
He couldn’t ever really pinpoint the exact moment. It may have been once when staying over Trunks’ place, she crashed their movie night in her pajamas: a large, oversized t-shirt and shorts that were skintight. Nothing overt, but Goten couldn’t help but be taken with her. She cuddled up to him innocently enough, like she would when they were younger. But she wasn’t young anymore; Bulla was fully developed and her chest would rise and fall in anticipation during the action scenes – something Goten observed all too well instead of focusing on the movie. He insisted on getting up to go to the bathroom to wait out the incredibly inappropriate hard-on he got.
Another time she emerged from the pool in a sinfully tight red bikini, all wet and panting from the workout. Goten felt lecherous, as if he were a budding Master Roshi, observing her as he did. He refused to leave the water, waiting out another inappropriate hard-on.
On a third occasion, the gang was over playing one of those games where prompts sounded dirtier than they were and she shocked him by displaying her knowledge on inappropriate topics causing – you guessed it – yet another inappropriate hard-on.
This was the worst one of it though. Something about her sweet voice saying such unseemly words drove him to the edge. The juxtaposition was too much.
Despite her innocence and virtue, there was this deep desire to bring out another side of her.
Goten knew he was scum. Absolute scum. For all his proselytizing years earlier to her when she made her crush on him known, it was as if it all went out the window. Suddenly, thoughts that were never present in his head beforehand wouldn’t leave. Even being near her made him clam up, but he couldn’t ever show that he was affected by her that way.
The complicated part though wasn’t that he was simply lusting after her. He liked her.
Attraction was one thing, compatibility another. Goten had both in spades concerning Bulla, which made it all the more difficult to forget those blue eyes.
Bulla was genuinely fun to be around. While she always had a soft spot in his heart as his best friend’s little sister, the girl had developed a wicked sense of humor and knew how to put Trunks in his place. She and Goten found the same jokes to be funny and had great banter. Their conversations had depth and insight. Bulla was so easy to talk to. Her brilliant mind could do complex equations in an instant, but she also knew how to have fun.
And her laugh—her laugh was the best sound in the world. He thought that in her younger years, but now it sounded absolutely regal.
Just like the princess she was.
Even calling her princess felt dirty. It was always a nickname for her, like B-Chan, but one Bulla used to insist on being called as a kid. No thanks in part to Vegeta lecturing her on her vast royal lineage. But now when he said it, there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes that Goten couldn’t help but be drawn to.
He always wanted to keep her safe. Make sure that nobody harmed her or made her feel inadequate. Goten was her second older brother. Her protector. How could he protect her from himself and his dark thoughts, though?
Being a Son, Goten had the prime example of how to treat women from his father and brother. Though Goku spent a lot of his time training, he adored Chi-Chi and always tried to make her feel loved. Gohan was even more devoted to his wife Videl, a relationship Goten got to witness from the start. He was so kind and caring, at times, it made him sick from the sweetness. But he was a great provider and emotionally intelligent to the point where Goten couldn’t ever recall a serious argument between the two.
Goten wanted to treat Bulla respectfully, age-appropriately. He was a good guy. For years, the barriers he put in place were intentional and he never second guessed them. Goten never allowed himself to think of her differently—he couldn’t.
What had changed?
The realization dawned on him a short while back that she was nearly eighteen. Legal, available—but she wasn’t available.
She was forbidden fruit; and Kami help him, he wanted a taste.
Trunks would beat the shit out of him. Vegeta would beat the shit out of him, if he didn’t kill him where he stood.
A part of him felt like not going to the party, knowing the promise he made to her was just hours away from fulfilment…
…or was it?
Goten wasn’t blind; even if he had zero improper thoughts about Bulla, she was gorgeous. Her mother’s features and her father’s confidence allowed the beauty to shine in every way physically. Her toned figured came naturally and Bulla was always very conscious about her appearance. Though he’d never say it, Goten was even attracted to her when she was in sweats sans makeup. Surely, some teenage boy would have realized the same thing by now.
When he made that promise to her, it was mostly to appease her at the time, though Goten did have intentions on honoring it if still applicable. Just a quick peck wouldn’t do harm, right?
Then again, more than likely, Bulla had already been kissed and this whole thing null and void. Goten and her never even brought it up once since they made the pact. She could have forgotten about the whole thing! She could have kissed hundreds of boys by now, maybe more.
He prayed to Kami though, not more.
But then—a cruel thought came to pass—what if he ignored it completely and didn’t bring it up, only to find that she had been waiting for him this whole time?
While Goten would have been shocked if that were to be true, the idea of breaking a promise to her crushed him.
If there was anything that he was, Son Goten was a man of his word.
He prided himself on it. Whether it was a small agreement or a life-changing oath, Goten took his word seriously. If a man couldn’t be trusted with his word, he had nothing.
Though it would be hard to resist her, Goten told himself that if he did move forward with the kiss that it would be quick, emotionless, and light-hearted. No need to put pressure on it.
Of course—Goten knew he would. What had been a promise and obligation once, was now a desire.
He wanted to kiss Bulla.
However, Goten felt like going in with a plan to be safe. In the event that she completely forgot about the promise, maybe he could test the waters somehow. Being the cheesy guy he was he loved puns, as did Bulla. What if he got her chocolate kisses as a backup? Especially in the case where maybe she remembered but had already been kissed—this was a good way to honor his commitment without breaking a sweat.
That’s what brought him to the drugstore after his unbearably long day at work.
The dojo had been packed and Hercule, who rarely had the talent for management, double booked him. He complained to Videl about being late to the party and begged her to let the others know what was keeping him.
He zoomed home to shower and change into appropriate attire. Though Bulma seldom had dress codes, this black and white theme she took seriously. His stark white dress shirt and black blazer seemed as good of a combo as any. Goten fondly remembered Bulla had picked out the blazer for him when he took her and her friends shopping once as a thank you.
On his way to the party, he was determined to have his backup gift and stood in line to pay for the chocolate kisses.
And of all the people he could have run into that day…it had to be her.
Valese.
“Goten!” she tapped his shoulder breaking him out of a trance. He turned to see her grinning widely, as if that wasn’t the same woman who months ago broke his heart.
“Valese?” he was curious to see her in this part of town, let alone at a drugstore. She usually had assistants for that sort of thing.
“It’s been a while!”
“Yeah, well…” Goten thought about saying something sarcastic about them being broken up but knew it would go over her head. It wasn’t worth the energy. “How…are you?”
“Great! In the area for a photoshoot and just grabbing a snack before heading back.”
“Makes sense,” his tone was flat.
Her eyes darted to what Goten was holding in his hands. “Who are those for?” she asked innocently enough.
“Oh,” Goten looked down at the box of chocolates, “just a friend.”
It wasn’t a lie, and yet, it felt like one.
She beamed. “Aw, you’re a good friend!” Valese commented. “One of the things I really adore about you,” the model said leaning in. He sighed. Truth be told, with attempting to forget about Bulla, Goten nearly forgot about Valese and their breakup. The memory of it still stung when it did finally reappear.
Goten turned his head. “Valese, now isn’t really a good time for this.”
“For what?”
“For this,” he made a gesture to the two of them, “I don’t need the back and forth right now.”
Her smile faded as she considered his words. “Sorry Goten,” she started off, “I know we keep trying to make it work and haven’t been able to. But I really do care about you!”
The Saiyan didn’t doubt that there was still affection there on her part. This is what always happened though; nostalgia got in the way for both of them.
“Appreciate it, Valese,” Goten said paying for his gift, “but I have to get going. Late for a friend’s birthday.”
Again, true statement, but felt like a lie.
“Can I text you sometime?” she asked as he turned to leave. Goten faltered for a moment but relinquished.
“Sure. You have my number.”
-=-=-=-
Later that evening...
As he flew towards the entrance of Capsule Corporation, there was a dazzling blue moon in the sky. It was easy to envision Bulla in that moment; that color always reminded him of her.
The resourceful half-Saiyan figured he’d attempt to sneak in via the terrace, in order to not appear as late as he was. Goten soon realized though he was not the only one outside.
Leaning over the railing, the birthday girl appeared to be all alone, deep in thought. Peering out into the city, her cerulean eyes staring up at the very moon that caught his attention just minutes before. Goten stood still, observing her silently.
So young and full of potential, and yet so wise and mature beyond her years, Goten felt his heart flicker at how much she had grown. Though he could only see her from the side, he could already tell her pale skin contrasted wonderfully with her dark dress and jewelry. She wore her hair completely down, no signature headband. Her aqua tresses seemed so lovely cascading down over her shoulders – he could smell her coconut shampoo from where he stood.
Goten examined her in the dark a bit longer than he’d care to admit, and knew he had to say something to make his presence known.
“Hey B-Chan!”
Though he caught her off guard, when he saw her turn and smile at him, it made it all worth it. “Goten!” she exclaimed.
He rubbed the back of his head.
“Whoops, didn’t mean to startle you!” Goten confessed, earnestly.
“You’re fine,” she began, “although, I was beginning to worry you forgot about me!”
As if he could ever forget about her.
“As if I could forget about the birthday girl herself,” he said his thoughts aloud. Goten began embracing her in a solid hug. She was warm to the touch, and her summery perfume suited her nicely. Her scent invaded his senses.
Goten finally was able to see her entire outfit when he released her from his hold. Bulla was breathtaking; and while he’s sure Vegeta had a near conniption at seeing her hemline, Goten took notice of her slender legs, strong yet lithe. Her dress clung tightly to her hips, her chest—he immediately tried to skip over that last part—all the way to her striking face. Black eyelashes fluttered over his favorite feature of hers; those captivating eyes, and her flushed lips parted slightly.
“You look…”
Stunning. Magnificent. Gorgeous. Regal. Exquisite. Stimulating. There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe just how incredible she looked, so he settled for what felt the most genuine.
“…you look beautiful, B-Chan.”
He couldn’t recall ever telling her that directly, though he thought it often. In fact, he shouldn’t have probably said anything, but he couldn’t help it.
“You’re sweet,” she uttered gently, “no need to butter me up though. I forgive you for being late.”
Something about her honeyed tone; it played like a melody to him. He just kept listening to her speak. Transfixed on the lovely mouth those words came out of.
“Goten?” she asked.
A few blinks later, Goten broke his gaze. “Sorry,” he muttered, he quickly attempted to cover for his staring.
“I um, just wasn’t expecting you to be out here by yourself. I figured I could have snuck in quietly. Are you not having fun at the party?”
“Oh, a lot of fun,” she contended, “as usual, Mom has outdone herself. It’s just overwhelming being the guest of honor.”
Perfect. I can joke with her and throw her off. “You? Not liking being the center of attention? Hmm, maybe you have grown up,” he teased. Bulla punched him in the arm.
“Cut it out—still my birthday after all,” she sang.
Since when the hell can she throw a punch? “Dang, Bulla—that was a pretty strong hit,” he said genuinely fascinated, “what are you, training with Vegeta now?”
Her light response of “I am” left him staggered.
“Wait really?!” he made no effort to hide his shock. “Since when?” Goten wondered.
“Last year. I told him I wanted to learn a couple moves, you know, just for self-defense; but little did I know he heard that as request for an entire teaching regiment.”
He had to admit, the thought of Bulla in training gear both amused and titillated him. Damn it Goten, get your head out of the gutter.
“Keeping secrets from me I see,” he tried to say smoothly.
The dark-haired man watched her shake her head.
“Enough about me,” Bulla changed the subject. “While I can forgive tardiness, I am curious what took you so long, Goten. Not polite to keep a princess waiting,” she teased.
Cue the box. “No excuse, but work unfortunately kept me over today, and needed some time to make sure I got you the perfect gift,” Goten conceded.
“Goten, you didn’t have to get me a gift…” she claimed, but he knew it was out of politeness.
“Says the woman who shops like her life depends on it.”
Ever in typical Briefs fashion, she rolled her eyes at his comment. Goten eagerly awaited her reaction to see if this would trigger any clues for him to know what she remembered about her request all those years ago. Those teal orbs lit up for him.
“Goten!”
“Promised you your first birthday kiss-es,” Goten revealed.
“I can’t believe you remembered,” she murmured, her eyes claiming yet another victim.
“So, she remembered too,” the thought delighted but frightened the older man. Her reaction was kind, but he was unsure if the kindness was to be courteous or if she was hoping for her original request to be honored.
Loose strands of hair became undone once more and Goten took a moment to brush them out of her face. “Well, you know me,” he breathed, “always have to keep my promises.”
Without intending to, his hand lingered on her cheek. Those dark eyes of his never broke contact. He could tell Bulla wanted to say something, but for whatever reason couldn’t. It would be up to him.
Say something. Anything. “I wanted to have a backup since—well, since I figured the original promise was invalid.”
Goten attempted to not sound too disappointed. It was probably for the best if she had already kissed someone. He felt a strange pang of jealousy thinking of her lips attached to another man. Not that it made his feelings towards her any easier, but selfishly Goten did have a desire to be her first one.
“Why do you say that?”
The remark caught him by surprise. “B-Chan—”
There was no hiding the shock he displayed. “I-I just assumed you’ve already been kissed,” Goten stammered, hand still pressed to her cheek.
Goten observed her gulping hard, a nervous wreck.
“Why?” she barely whispered. How could she not have been kissed by now, as beautiful as she was and as mesmerizing as her personality could be. How intelligent her mind, how caring her heart.
“Because you’re…” Goten couldn’t bring himself to say anything further.
All he could think about was the way Bulla looked at him, as if the older Saiyan could do no wrong. It was similar to how she’d view him when they were younger, but this time, her maturity brought a depth of nuance. A mysterious hidden longing that she had for him, and in truth, that he returned.
He knew he was staring. He knew he shouldn’t be wanting this kiss as much as he did. Maybe if he could just get in and get out, like a soldier serving his country, they would both be unaffected and could move on to other things.
This was his best friend’s little sister. He loved her as his own.
That particular thought stalled him…though she felt like a sister in many ways, she wasn’t. Bulla was just a young woman whom he was close to. A woman who showed up for him whenever he needed someone. A woman who got his jokes and made him laugh. A woman whose smile lit up the room. And not just any type of woman, a Saiyan woman—the only unrelated one of her kind.
Then it clicked: not a girl, a woman.
One kiss. One little peck. What harm could a quick peck do?
Before she could ask another question, Goten closed the distance between them, feeling a sudden rush of courage. With one swift move, he pressed his lips against hers, relishing the suppleness and warmth of her mouth.
As they kissed, he delicately cupped her face, amazed at the softness of her skin against his hands. Her flavor was intoxicating, a mix of sweetness and zest that left him wanting more. Goten couldn't believe that she had never kissed anyone before, that she had no idea how good she tasted.
He undoubtedly kissed more women than he was proud to admit, but none of their lips felt like hers did.
Despite her initial hesitation, Bulla responded willingly, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him in closer. He could feel her heart racing against his chest as their lips moved in unison. She was learning quickly. He sensed her prematurely pulling away from him and instantly grabbed the back of her head to ensure their time was not cut short.
For a moment, the world around them seemed to disappear. He forgot about her age, his ex, her father being right inside the building—nothing else mattered. The only thing that mattered was the feel of her lips against his, the way her body pressed against him, the sound of their breathing mingling together. It was a moment of pure bliss that Goten couldn’t have predicted.
A moment he wouldn’t forget.
When the kiss finally ended, Bulla seemed dazed and disoriented, barely able to speak. Goten couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction (and a bit of pride) at having given her such a memorable first experience. His first kiss was not nearly as poetic.
"Happy birthday, B-Chan," Goten whispered, inhaling deeply to savor her scent.
For a minute, they remained locked in each other's gaze, caught up in the intensity of the moment. And then, as if snapped out of a trance, they slowly drifted apart, the magic of the kiss lingering in the air between them.
As they stood there, catching their breath while trying to process what had just happened, Goten couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and amazement. He was still shellshocked that this was her first kiss. It left him reeling. Had she not wanted to be kissed before? Was she holding out for him after all these years? How was it possible that someone as enchanting and sweet as Bulla not known what this feeling was like before tonight?
He wanted to tell her all of this, to let her know just how rare and special she was. But at the same time, he knew that the moment was too fragile, too precious, to be ruined by those kind of words. Goten instead opted to make a joke to bring them both back from their haze.
“—I guess that should set the bar pretty high for you then,” he ribbed. Let her think this was light. Just a one-off promise. Let her think this was just another day for me.
“So full of yourself, Son Goten,” the man heard her tease, smirking all too much like her father.
Goten took note of her present that fell during their embrace, and ever the gentleman, bent over to grab her box of chocolates. Of course, he couldn’t resist stealing one prior to handing it back.
“Hey!” she smacked his arm again and this time he whined in pain.
“Ow—okay, okay. Now that you’re training, I’m going to have to remember to stay on your good side,” Goten teased.
She tossed her hair, feeling emboldened from the earlier connection. “Every side is my good side,” Bulla claimed, “in case you haven’t noticed.”
He bit his lip as to stifle a whimper. Of course, he noticed. That was the problem. But she didn’t know that—how could she? Goten could never say anything to her indecent. What kind of man would she think of him coveting her body the way that he did.
“We should get you inside, Princess,” Goten returned softly. There was that nickname again.
She paused. “I’ll meet you there,” Bulla offered, “wanted to get one last bout of fresh air before heading back in.”
Oddly enough, he was pained at the thought of leaving her out here. Though she was more than capable of handling herself, Goten didn’t like seeing her alone. He respected her wishes however, and simply brought them both to a hug. “Don’t take too long, birthday girl,” he whispered, “someone in there is bound to miss you.”
Me.
“Goten,” Bulla tightened her grip on him, “thanks…again for my present.”
His arms reinforced around her, planting a chaste kiss to her head like he’d done many times in the past. He lingered perhaps far longer than he should have, but it was enough to memorize her signature scent.
Inside his heart was pounding, not wanting to let go of her. However, he pulled away knowing that she would be fine on her own. Goten felt so foolish, not sure what to do or say, so he tried shooting her a peace sign goodbye like the dork he was, which seemed to make her happy.
Gliding towards the doorway, something compelled him to turn around once more. Her breathtaking shape crystallized by the moonlight. Though her face was darkened from this angle, the light of her sapphire eyes broke through. Goten felt his stomach flip.
Part of him wanted to run back up to her and kiss her senselessly once more. The other part knew, in some way, he could never touch her like that again.
Whatever feelings he was struggling with before, were amplified in such a manner, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to recover.
-=-=-=-
The Son man made his way inside the party, attempting to slip in covertly. But two pairs of blue eyes caught him in the act.
“Goten!/Yo, Goten!”
Both Marron and Trunks greeted him from afar, waving him down. He smiled as his two best friends in the whole world were here. Goten desperately needed a distraction. However, the sobering reality that he just kissed his best friend’s sister seemed to hit him the second Trunks patted his back.
“About time man,” Trunks chided, tossing him a beer, “all work and no play makes Goten a dull boy.”
Goten grabbed the beer and started to chug it nervously. “Oh you have no idea,” he began warily, attempting to not act suspiciously around the brother of the woman he just annihilated with his mouth. A nervous grin sprouted.
“Goten, I’ve missed you!” Marron gave him a big hug that he returned happily.
“Mare!” he picked her up. As he set her down, he beamed at his two friends. “GTM reunited at last!” Goten toasted the two and they all clinked drinks.
“Damn, how long has it been since all three of us where together?” Trunks wondered, sipping his scotch.
Marron looked pensive. “It’s had to be a couple months, at least! The last barbeque maybe?”
“Nah, I had to work the last one, the one before that?”
“Clearly—way too long,” Trunks insisted. He snapped his fingers. “Hey, Marron just moved to West City a couple of weeks ago. We should go out to celebrate. Just the three of us!”
Goten’s eyes lit up. “Wow totally! Marron, I had no idea you even moved.”
“Well, it was kind of a last-minute decision,” she confessed, “a great deal for an apartment came up and I nearly said no. But,” the blonde pointed a finger, “the chance to hang out more with you two was too tempting!”
The dark-haired Saiyan toasted her once more. “Alright, Marron—making moves,” he cheered.
She giggled. “It is my year of trying new things!”
Trunks had to stifle a laugh. “Your what?”
“My year of trying new things,” she proclaimed proudly, “I told myself when new opportunities came up I would try to take them.”
The young prince made no attempt to hide his laughter this time. “YOU?” he asked skeptically. Her eyebrows furrowed.
“Yes, me.”
Trunks continued to chuckle derisively. “You’re a person who needs their routine,” he commented, “always have been.”
Marron took offense as Goten just supped on his beer, attempting to stay out of it.
“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it, Trunks.”
The way she said his name could have summoned wolves. This was Goten’s cue to cut between them. “I think it’s great Marron and Trunks is right. We should definitely celebrate. The next few weeks are a bit busy, but can we plan to do it next month?”
Trunks and Marron eyed each other annoyed but in seconds, all was forgiven, like it usually was once Goten played peacekeeper. “As long as Mr. President treats,” Marron grinned.
Goten laughed, “Oh that’s a guarantee.”
His best friend rolled his eyes. “Of course, of course—let the poor little rich kid spend his money,” he halfheartedly feigned distress, “what does he need it for?”
“Escorts, apparently.”
Goten’s drink came out of his nose at Marron’s remark and Trunks looked horrified. “I have NEVER paid for an escort!” he shouted. His blonde friend smirked.
“So touchy, Trunks,” she teased, “and quite defensive. Makes you wonder.”
Trunks glared at Goten who was toppled over. “Goten, what did you tell her!?”
Between his tears of laughter, Goten attempted to answer. “Oh, just that one time you were super proud at picking up a chick at that hotel bar—and a check later that morning.”
Both Marron and Goten were dying, the prince’s shameful secret no longer so secret. Trunks grumbled under his breath about to leave, but the three were interrupted by Goten’s cell phone pinging a new text. The younger hybrid opened to see it was from Valese and his mood shifted.
TEXT (Valese): So great seeing you today, Goten. Let’s hang out again soon.
Trunks and Marron couldn’t help but peer over his shoulder as Goten’s disposition changed. Both groaned in frustration. “Dude,” the lavender-haired companion muttered, “not this again.”
Marron looked more concerned than troubled. “Goten, are you back together with Valese?” she wondered nervously.
Goten snapped out of his momentary change in demeanor. “No, no—nothing like that.”
“Was that the real reason you were late?”
“No!”
“Goten, don’t do this again—”
“I’m not!” Goten finally exclaimed. “I just ran into her on my way to the party. She was at the store, and we chatted a bit. I’m not back together with her.”
His friends shook their heads in disbelief. “Why is she texting you then?” Trunks demanded to know.
Goten sighed. “I told her she could,” he confessed, “but it doesn’t mean I want to get back with her.”
Marron frowned. “We don’t mean to butt into your life, Goten—”
“—I mean to!”
She rolled her eyes at Trunks. “It’s just been tough seeing you so back and forth. I wish you could move on,” Marron said softly. She nudged Trunks to say something more supportive.
“Yeah, man,” he replied, his tone gentler than before, “you don’t deserve that.”
Goten inhaled sharply, knowing his friends were right. “I appreciate you guys,” he murmured, putting his phone away. He beamed again. “Alright, alright—it’s a party. Let’s have fun!”
Marron and Trunks eyed each other, wondering if Goten was being truthful. But they gave him the benefit of the doubt as they were joined by Pan and Uub coming over to say hello.
“About time, Uncle Goten—I wasn’t sure if I needed to rescue you from Grandpa Hercule,” Pan joked.
“You might have to next time,” Goten told his niece, “he’s going to drive me to early retirement at this rate.”
“Well I’m glad you’re here,” she said giving him a hug. Pan looked around. “Say, where’s Bulla?”
“I haven’t seen her in a while,” Uub declared.
“Come to think of it,” Marron started off, “it’s been a minute.”
Trunks looked at Goten. “Did you happen to see my sister on your way in?” he asked curiously.
Four pairs of eyes darted to Goten, who grabbed another beer in a panic. “Uh, no not yet,” he said anxiously, attempting to hide his nerves. “Must be mingling.”
In what can only be counted as serendipitous timing, Bulma was attempting to get everyone’s attention clinking her glass. “We’re about to do a champagne toast and dessert here soon, be sure to grab a flute from the waitstaff!”
“THERE’S CAKE!?”
“Kakarot, I’ll THROTTLE you if you don’t sit down this instant!”
Marron turned to Pan. “You know, I think I saw her leave towards the terrace a while back. We should take a look!” she suggested.
Pan nodded. “After you, Blondie!” she exclaimed, the two women headed for the door and both Uub and Trunks watched them leave with curiosity, as champagne was passed out to the guests.
“Uub, that’s my niece,” Goten teased the younger man, who was blushing furiously.
“Wh-what?” he asked shyly.
“Kidding man,” Goten put his arm on Uub’s shoulder. “Although, you picked a tough nut to crack.”
“I promise Son Goten, I’m not trying to crack any nuts!”
Goten and Trunks looked at each other and toppled over in laughter. Uub chuckled nervously unsure of what to say or do. Wiping a tear from his eye, Trunks patted Uub’s back. “Whatever you say man,” he began, “whatever you say.
His hybrid friend turned to him. “Don’t think you’re off the hook either, Trunks,” Goten said. “I saw you looking at Marron.”
“Dude, stop. It’s just Marron.”
“Just Marron you say, as if you weren’t glued to her all night,” Uub commented, smirking slightly until Trunks glared at him. Goten sipped his beer amusingly.
“Oh ho ho—the truth comes out.”
“Hey,” Trunks turned his head to Goten, “you know she and I are just friends.”
“Whatever you say, Trunks.”
The three men all returned their glances to the women returning, this time joined with a certain Saiyan Princess in the middle. Goten’s gaze intensified as she made her way into the room, holding everyone’s attention. He smiled softly as Bulla received a champagne glass, looking so excited to be surrounded by everyone in her life she held dear.
As Bulma announced her toast, the room was cheering and lifting their glasses in celebration. Goten hoped as Bulla’s eyes darted around, she would meet his, if but for a moment.
To his delight, she searched and found his gaze, smiling ever wider than before. Goten dared to hope that smile was just for him. He lifted his glass towards her, as if to share a secret, as he put the drink to his lips—wishing her lips were there instead.
But Goten knew, that was a thought he needed to get out of his head; until then, the dark-eyed man refused to stray away from the princess’ eyeline.
-=-=-=-
3 weeks later
Bulla would not leave his head.
It had been three weeks since the kiss. Three damn weeks. It was just a promise, a little childhood wish he offered to fulfill.
But her lips, her taste—they were burned in his memory and refused to vacate the premises.
Goten supposed that’s why he agreed to go on a date with Valese, something he did not tell Trunks or Marron about.
She kept texting him, per her usual habit each time they reconnected. Sometimes over the phone it was easier to be with her. The back and forth, the anticipation of a notification. Something that just didn’t seem to replicate itself in person quite as much.
Valese was sweet, and he did miss her at times, but when they would meet up again, Goten was reminded why they always went their separate ways.
Her naivety was charming, but it lacked the same endearing quality that say, a certain bluette had. There was only so much that Goten could handle.
He kept it simple; they would just walk around for a bit, maybe grab a coffee or a treat. The last thing Goten wanted to do was to give her the idea he was serious about getting back together.
The brunette hooked her arm around Goten’s as they strolled down the street. At first, he wanted to protest; it felt too intimate for where they were at emotionally. But given their history, this was hardly salacious. Valese never meant any harm with things. She just sometimes was a bit too aloof for her own good.
On the street, Goten stopped at a popsicle stand and bought a snack for the two of them. Valese’s eyes perked up at the treat as he handed it to her.
“Oh! Is it like ice cream?” she wondered aloud, proud that she finally knew what ice cream was after Goten showing her years prior.
Goten chuckled uncomfortably. “No, it’s a popsicle,” he started off, “it’s cold like ice cream but it’s more like flavored ice.”
“Do I chew it?”
“I wouldn’t,” he cautioned shaking his head, “it’s pretty chilly. I’d just lick it.”
Without warning, the brunette stuck nearly the entire popsicle in her mouth and Goten nearly choked on his treat. She looked at him, her cheeks completely full. He was instantly reminded all too well why breaking up with her had always been hard to do in the past.
Emphasis on the word hard.
“Oh no, not like that!” he exclaimed as she released the popsicle, the faintest trail of syrup on the bottom of her lip. His face was completely red at this point, burning inside.
“Oops,” she commented wiping her lips with a napkin, “you weren’t kidding about it being cold, Goten!”
Goten couldn’t even get out the words he wanted to say, he was still in shock at what he witnessed. He could feel his insides twitching. It was enough to get him to stop thinking about Bulla, if only for a moment.
Bulla at least knows how to eat a popsicle, though.
As she resumed normal licks this time, Goten tried to make an effort to continue conversation, but Valese was in her own little world.
The hybrid stiffened, wondering how on earth they used to do this in the past.
They strolled along, walking past a flower store with an outdoor display. With childlike wonder, Valese wandered over to the daffodils and sniffed them. “Oh, Goten look! These yellow flowers are so pretty,” she turned to him smiling.
Goten returned a respectful nod, still wrapped up in thought. As Valese continued to enjoy the fragrance, she rotated once again towards him. “Yellow is my favorite color,” the brunette admitted.
He observed her up and down, her entire ensemble being yellow confirming this fact. “You don’t say,” Goten commented, polite if somewhat unenthused.
Valese tilted her head. “You know,” she began, “I don’t think I’ve ever asked what your favorite color is Goten! Is it black like your hair?”
Goten paused; a flash of Bulla’s eyes and hair cross his mind; already knowing the answer.
“Blue,” he confessed, almost surprised at the response, “my favorite color is blue.”
Her eyes widened. “Blue is a nice color! Reminds me of the ocean. Is that why you like it?”
The Saiyan man envisioned Bulla’s hair entwined with his fingers the night he kissed her. How much he admired it, how pretty it looked on her, and how soft it felt in his hands. He thought once more of the way her azure eyes glanced at him as he turned to leave, the blue of the moon illuminating her figure. Goten wouldn’t dare say any of this to Valese, though.
“I don’t know,” he speculated to his ex, “I guess it’s just always been calming.”
“In what way?”
Goten took a breath, feeling a warm glow inside his chest. The rejoinder clear as day. “I suppose blue in a way…feels like home.”
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 2 and newwww things coming to the surface. It’s been fun getting inside Goten’s head more. I know this chapter had a few different time shifts, but wanted to hit on several moments for him leading up to the night and his reaction afterwards.
Chapter 3: GTM reunite for a night and chaos ensues, Goten discovers a secret of Bulla’s, and a foreign planet from Vegeta’s past becomes aware of the Z Gang’s existence.
Thank you again for all the feedback so far, everyone. Your reviews help encourage me so much!
-SonChan
Chapter 4: Chapter 3: Secrets, Secrets
Summary:
Chapter 3: GTM reunite for a night and chaos ensues, Goten discovers a secret of Bulla’s, and a foreign planet from Vegeta’s past becomes aware of the Z Gang’s existence.
Notes:
Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan for the concept of Planet Souljin and some future characters. I do own the OCs that will make an appearance in this chapter, as well as mentioned offscreen.
Author’s Note: Thank you all again for the wonderful support! It’s a lot of fun diving into AO3 (and my first love, FF.net) as I’ve been posting this story. If you had told me years ago that there were still active writers for DBZ I would have laughed, but it’s been a pleasant surprise!
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Secrets, In Secret
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 3: Secrets, Secrets
Goten knew he had it bad.
Lying in a pool of sweat, the fighter awoke from his latest dream about Bulla and the kiss they shared nearly a month before. Without fail, almost every time he closed his eyes to drift off in slumber, the searing memory would invade his sleep. Often, the dreams were sweet and chaste, like Bulla herself, leaving Goten with a warm feeling in his stomach. Other times, his baser instincts twisted the innocent recollection into something much worse.
Tonight, Goten’s dream involved him and Bulla doing much more than just kissing on that terrace. The thrill of exposure out in the open summertime air. The danger of being right outside where their friends and family were gathered. His hands touching body parts of hers that no man dared to touch. Her nimble fingers wrapped around him in every way possible. Kissing her, sampling her exotic flavor over and over. Before he woke, Goten was about to taste an entirely different orifice…
The halfling grimaced in shame as he wakened to a sudden stiffness between his legs, cursing his lack of control even in sleep.
Why couldn’t he just move on?
It had easily been four or five months since Goten had a physical outlet, and he was certain this was a small part of why he’d felt pent up. After his breakup with Valese, he had trouble bringing himself to indulge in vain attempts of one-night stands like his younger years. The appeal just wasn’t there anymore.
The demi-Saiyan was a week out from his date (if you could truly call it that) with Valese, one that ended a bit haphazardly with Goten not even making plans for another. The last thing he wanted was to be physical in that situation and confuse not only himself, but someone else.
Not only that, but after Bulla had so kindly comforted him in the wake of his relationship ending, Goten didn’t want to disappoint her. Though he’d never divulge details of his sexual past with her in that way, Bulla had a knack for reading between the lines when Trunks and Goten were in their wilder days. She’d make a quick joke at his expense, but then almost unnoticeably, her eyes would sink in defeat.
The thought of disheartening the princess in any way tore at him.
Goten shot up in his bed and leaned against his headboard. Why did he care so much? It wasn’t like he was involved with Bulla; he couldn’t be. He owed her no loyalty in that regard. Hell, there wasn’t a scenario where he could even be with her in that way.
The hybrid blushed at the thought.
Bulla just had experienced her first kiss. What kind of devil was he to fantasize, even in dreaming, about her like that? A woman who waited years for him to simply kiss her was not likely a woman who just would dive headlong into a physical connection.
But still—he wondered if she had ever envisioned him in more than just a friendly capacity.
Her young crush on him was quite obvious, something that flattered and intimidated him a bit. Goten never desired to be the object of her desire in those days. While Bulla eagerly kissed him back on her birthday, there was this ragging notion that perhaps she just was wanting to kiss him for clout. A young fantasy coming true and afterwards, he’d be tossed to the wayside.
Yet, deep down, Goten knew that wasn’t right.
As much as he attempted to justify his misplaced attraction in the younger woman, he reflected on how her partiality towards him stayed consistent over the years. Bulla’s efforts to hide this were remarkably strong, but as Goten spent the last few weeks replaying his history with her, her keenness towards the halfling was still evident.
Maybe she did feel something for him, still.
It wouldn’t have done either of them any good with their situation however, but even so, the flutter of hope seemed to put Goten in a better mood than he had been.
He realized they had yet to discuss the moment since it happened. In fact, Goten was avoiding both Bulla and her brother by way of being busy with work, but also fear that his mask would slip, and they would know what kind of primitive behavior lied beneath.
That couldn’t happen.
Goten needed to play it cool. He was seeing Trunks and Marron later that evening for their night out, and in all likelihood, would run into Bulla at Capsule Corp. on the way. He had to act as if nothing happened.
Out of respect for her, he abstained from letting his conscious mind (and hand) think of her in any manner that was crude.
Out of torture for him, Goten tried to imagine something else that would snap him out of his trance. Failing to do so.
-=-=-=-
Planet Souljin – Laboratory
Several galaxies away, a stir was happening on distant world known as Planet Souljin.
Souljin, a planet thought to have been destroyed in the days of the Cold Force, had recently reemerged several years prior as if seemingly out of nowhere. The surprising return of the world caused a disturbance in its own galaxy, but other galaxies had yet to feel the ripple effect of the reappearance. Since then, Souljin was slowly evolving into a respectable presence, their focus on science and technology at the head, with a more competent military than ever before.
Dr. Sotetsu Niwa had always known that his genetic research on the Souljin race would lead to groundbreaking discoveries, but he never expected to uncover a link to their past. As the head researcher for Planet Souljin, he spent most of his time in his laboratory, poring over data and analyzing DNA samples.
Yet today, he was joined by a royal entourage of guards accompanying King Engei, the leader of Souljin and his eldest son and heir, Prince Kusa. His tail swung in anticipation as he greeted the king and his successor.
"Welcome, King Engei," Dr. Niwa bowed politely, “Prince Kusa.”
“Dr. Niwa,” the Crown Prince returned. His father dipped his head in acknowledgement.
“You sounded quite urgent on your voice message, Sotetsu.”
"Your Highness,” the doctor bobbed his head, “I have something to show you that I think will interest you greatly."
King Engei nodded, dark green eyes scanning the lab as his tail curled around his waist. The elderly ruler of Souljin had never been particularly interested in science himself, but he trusted Dr. Niwa implicitly. The two had worked together for years, and Niwa's reputation as the foremost geneticist on Souljin was well-known.
"Please, show me what you've discovered," King Engei said, his voice deep yet well-mannered. Although Engei seemed curious, Kusa appeared polite yet disinterested.
Dr. Niwa led King Engei and Prince Kusa to a bank of computer screens that lined one wall of the laboratory. He typed in a few commands and a series of charts and graphs appeared on the screens.
"What you're looking at here is the DNA of the Souljin race," Dr. Niwa said, pointing to one of the screens. "Over the years, it’s been a blend of several cultures as you know, ultimately resulting in the chromosomes you see before you. But if you look closely, you'll see something remarkable."
King Engei leaned in, studying the charts intently. His wrinkled visage creased in wonder. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking for, but he relied on Dr. Niwa to guide him.
"There," Dr. Niwa said, pointing to a small section of the screen. "Do you see it?"
Dr. Niwa watched as King Engei observed carefully. After several seconds of silence, the king grimaced. "I'm afraid I don't," he admitted.
His son also shook his head, unable to understand. “Me either.”
"It's a unique genetic marker," Dr. Niwa explained. "And it's only found in one other race in the universe."
Prince Kusa’s eyes widened. "Which race?"
The scientist pulled up another image side by side with the DNA.
"Our ancestors from Planet Sadala—the Saiyans," Dr. Niwa said, pausing for a moment.
The Crown Prince raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t anything new, Dr. Niwa,” he started off saying, “we know that our bloodline descends from the Saiyan race. Hardly a discovery.”
Dr. Niwa zoomed in on the screen to better showcase the marker. "The fact that we share genetic similarities isn’t what is so pressing,” he commented, whirling around on his computer. He brought up one more image.
“While we’ve been under the impression that the Saiyans have long been extinct—in my research to look for other genetic similarities, our radars picked up on something extraordinary.”
The image clarified to reveal a foreign galaxy with a bright blue and green planet. “This is where our scanners picked up an identical match. Not the DNA of our ancestors,” Dr. Niwa continued. He drew a sharp breath.
“Your Majesty, these are living Saiyans, residing on a planet called Earth."
King Engei was taken aback. "How can this be possible? Are you sure of this?"
Dr. Niwa nodded. "I'm positive. The levels of power I'm seeing in their DNA are extraordinary. It looks like the royal line of Vegeta survived."
King Engei's expression shifted to disbelief. "Survived? That cannot be true. Frieza destroyed Planet Vegeta along with its inhabitants. There's no way any of them could have escaped."
Dr. Niwa nodded. "I understand your skepticism, Your Majesty, but the data does not lie. I'm confident that these Saiyans are the survivors of the Vegeta royal family. The marker that we've identified is a clear indication of that."
The king stood there, lost in thought for a few moments. "I met King Vegeta and his young son when he was just a boy,” he revealed, “I had always hoped that the Saiyan race had survived, but when my cousin was murdered, I never dared to dream that any others lived. Let alone the royal line."
Dr. Niwa smiled. "It's an incredible discovery, Your Majesty. If we act quickly, we may be able to establish a connection with these Saiyans and form an alliance. They could even potentially help us with our genetic research."
“An alliance?” Kusa wondered.
King Engei's face was determined. "Sotetsu is correct. We must make plans at once to reach out with a diplomatic envoy. If the royal line of Vegeta has indeed survived, then it's our duty to support them and protect them."
"I understand the potential benefits of allying with the Saiyans, but I'm not convinced it's a wise move," Prince Kusa said, crossing his arms over his chest.
The king turned to his eldest son. "Why do you say that, Kusa?"
"Because we know so little about these living ones," Kusa replied. "Who is to say they wouldn’t be outright hostile? And even if they are less bloodthirsty than our forefathers, their warrior culture could clash with our more peaceful ways."
Dr. Niwa cleared his throat. "Your Highness, I understand your concerns,” he offered, “but the potential rewards far outweigh the risks.”
“I fail to see what rewards could be worth jeopardizing Souljin’s safety...”
“My prince,” Dr. Niwa implored. “This could be the key to so many medical marvels. Think about what our two races could accomplish together!"
Prince Kusa shook his head. "I'm not convinced. And why do we need to ally with them anyways? We've managed just fine on our own all these years."
King Engei sighed. "Kusa, my son, I know we’ve been on our own for quite some time,” he began, “but Souljin has been isolated for far too long. We need allies now more than ever. Our resources are dwindling, and we must look beyond our borders to secure our future."
"But what if the Saiyans are not interested in allying with us?" the Crown Prince countered.
"We won't know unless we try,” King Engei replied. “If they do agree to an alliance, we’ll have a powerful partner. Our military forces have been hard at work to regain an iota of the strength our ancient houses possessed. Who better to help with that than a Saiyan? Plus, the Earthlings could also be potential supporters. Think of the advantages to all our races if we combine our strengths."
The heir to the throne still seemed hesitant. "I understand, but why should we trust them?” Kusa wondered. “You and I know our history well enough that before the destruction of Planet Vegeta, Saiyans were the lapdogs of the Frieza Force. What if they turn against us in the future?"
Dr. Niwa spoke up. "Your Highness, we will take all necessary precautions to ensure the safety and prosperity of our people. But we cannot let fear hold us back from potential opportunities."
"We will establish trust through communication and diplomacy. And if they betray our trust, I’ll deal with them accordingly,” King Engei replied firmly.
“But we cannot let trepidation stop us from reaching out to prospective allies. If you’d like, we can send your brother—"
Kusa seemed to consider his father's words before finally relenting. "Very well, Father,” the prince admitted, “but if we're going to do this, we need to be careful.”
“Absolutely.”
“If I may make a suggestion,” the prince continued, “I propose we send Zasso instead of Toge as our envoy.”
This interested the king to see his heir start to think like a ruler. Something that had been on his mind for some time now. King Engei gestured to Kusa. “Toge is my second son,” he pointed out, “and Zasso my third. What are your thoughts on skipping over one brother for another?”
The Crown Prince lowered his gaze, almost to say the answer was obvious. “Zasso is more…diplomatic and less likely to offend the Saiyans with his brashness. Toge has a short fuse and could do more harm than good."
“I—I would caution the same, sire,” Dr. Niwa agreed tactfully, as not to offend.
“Agreed,” King Engei conceded. “I believe Zasso and General Taikan would be the best delegates. Let the Saiyans know we come in peace but have a mightier force than they might remember. I want this to go as smoothly as possible.”
Prince Kusa bowed to his father. “Very well, I shall let Zasso and General Taikan know their orders,” he confirmed. His father remained staring at the screen with a renewed sense of self, feeling far more invigorated than he had been in years.
As he turned to leave, King Engei nodded in thanks to Dr. Niwa. “Sotetsu, keep me posted with…whatever else you may find,” he said with a telling look. The doctor bowed in understanding.
“Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’m confident we will obtain some answers soon.”
-=-=-=-
Later that evening…
Goten tapped on the door to Trunks’ place, dressed up for their night on the town. The hot end of the summertime season drew small beads of sweat on the back of neck. He exhaled slowly; the halfling was eager to get into the A/C to cool off.
Seconds later, Trunks opened the door, sopping wet and only in a towel. Goten raised an eyebrow and then a mischievous grin.
“Trunks, I’m flattered but trying to seduce me this way won’t work.”
“Shut up,” the older Saiyan chided, rubbing a second smaller towel on his hair. “I’m still getting ready. You’re here way too early,” he admonished. Goten grinned.
“Or you’re just running behind,” he teased.
Trunks let his friend in. “Can’t rush perfection,” the man answered ever so modestly, prompting an eye roll from the other half-Saiyan. “If you’re hungry I don’t have much, but the main house should be freshly stocked,” he offered. Goten’s stomach rumbled.
“Aw man, why’d you say something? My stomach knows now.”
Trunks shook his head at the very clear son of Goku.
“It’s going to be a little bit before I’m done,” Trunks continued. He didn’t have the luxury of the resilient spikes of the Son family. His hair required far more attention.
“It’s just Marron and me,” Goten said amusingly, “no need to get all dolled up on our account.”
His friend returned a glare. “Twenty minutes tops—if I’m done in fifteen, you buy the first round,” Trunks added.
“And here I thought you were treating,” the younger hybrid chuckled, checking a text on his phone. He assumed it was Marron confirming plans but it was just another message from Valese. Goten attempted to not react to it but Trunks caught a glimpse of his cell.
“For the love of Kami,” he groaned exasperated, “Goten, I’m begging you to fuck some other woman tonight.”
Goten glared at his friend. “We’re not hooking up, Trunks,” he insisted, “we just had one little hangout.”
Trunks’ eyes widened. “And you didn’t tell me?” he asked, insulted.
“I didn’t want to make it a big deal because it wasn’t.”
“What did you do on this little ‘hangout’ here, Goten?”
“We just walked and got some popsicles,” his friend answered truthfully. Trunks scrutinized him.
“Popsicles, huh? Is that what we are calling it these days?” he wondered sarcastically.
“Man, I am telling you—”
“—tell me she at least knew what a popsicle was. I still remember the whole ice cream debacle.”
Goten blushed. “Not exactly,” his flush darkened as he recalled Valese all but deep-throating the sweet treat. “She kind of—” he gulped.
“Kind of what?”
“—took it all in her mouth.”
Trunks’ eyes bugged out as his cheeks turned pink. “You mean…?”
“The whole thing.”
The older hybrid was now white as a ghost and made sure his towel wasn’t loose. “And then what?”
“Just that. Walked her home and didn’t even kiss.”
The ice blue eyes of the elder demi-Saiyan widened. “At least I know why you keep going back,” he jested.
His friend scoffed. “C’mon man,” Goten was getting annoyed, “to be honest, we didn’t have much to even talk about. Kind of like biting into an oatmeal cookie expecting chocolate chip.”
Dark eyes trailed downwards. “I know there’s a reason it hasn’t worked, I’m not dumb,” Goten said it almost to convince himself. “I figure eventually something else will come along, I just don’t know what to do in the meantime.”
The lavender-haired man ceased wringing out his wet hair, sympathetic to his friend’s plight. “It’ll happen, Goten.”
“Trunks…”
“No, I mean it man,” his companion began seriously, “look I know I’ve been up your ass about this a bit…”
“A bit??”
“I just don’t want you to be so caught up in the past,” Trunks paused thinking of the right words to say, “that you miss out on what’s meant for you.”
Goten’s eyebrow raised, impressed. “That’s probably the soundest wisdom I’ve ever gotten from a naked Saiyan.”
He yelped as Trunks whipped the smaller towel at him.
“Fifteen minutes Son, or you’re buying first round. Remember.”
Trunks vanished into his room as Goten strolled over to the main house. Along the way, he admired various photographs of the family on the wall. A lot of them included the Z Gang from when they were kids and teenagers—Goten couldn’t help but notice a shift in the photos by the time Bulla came into the picture. There was a clear change in the atmosphere with everyone’s smiles and Goten knew it was all thanks to the young princess.
He adored her as a baby. She was the cutest thing he ever laid eyes on. Bright blue eyes and identical hair, alabaster skin that matched her mother’s – it was evident from the get-go she’d be a real beauty.
Goten’s heart fluttered as he saw more recent portraits. His assumption of her attractiveness from an early age not only was true, but she developed far fairer than he could have ever imagined. Although one couldn’t deny infant Bulla and adult Bulla looked clearly related, it was clear to the Saiyan man that they were starting to become separate entities to him.
The past and the present.
A rush of guilt sprung to his chest thinking of how many times he held her as a baby, promising to keep her safe. The times he would play make-believe with child Bulla, subbing in for her prince when Vegeta was too busy. Even when she was a young teen, driving her and her friends around with Trunks or chaperoning a mall trip—it was all still Bulla.
Yet, something shifted.
The photos that had been taken over the past year included quite a few of the next generation in particular. Goten never really noticed before but in a lot of the pictures he’d be right in-between Bulla and his best friend. Innocently posing with his arms around both of them; two people he cared about the most in this world. He felt a tingling sensation when he observed that Bulla often would put her arms around him or head on his shoulder. Always so subtle and innocent, like her.
His fingers traced over one picture in particular where her smile was remarkably wide, so much that it stalled him. “B-Chan,” he murmured to no one. Dark eyes languidly turned their attention to Trunks in the photo and the hybrid frowned.
Goten knew if Trunks had any inkling how he’d been feeling lately about Bulla, his face would be cut out of each of these photos. The thought of anything coming between the two blood brothers seemed impossible at one point. Now, Goten feared, he was treading down a path that could lead to mass disruption in all their lives.
Nothing seemed to be worth that risk; not even her.
The hybrid pulled himself away from that though as he continued down his path. A thud and two voices caused a commotion in the gravity room when he passed the door. Goten’s hand hovered over the door momentarily, feeling prompted to stop and check, but before turning the handle, something told him to leave it be. His stomach let out an unearthly growl, triggering a small sweat drop to appear on his head.
He figured he’d peek in after his visit to the kitchen.
-=-=-=-
The gravity room weighed heavily against Bulla bones, more so than it had in a long time. After the months she spent training with her father, her progress was commendable. But Bulla knew that for all her practice and effort, she was still very much a novice in comparison to the fighters she grew up with. The past few weeks felt a bit like a setback; her sidetracked nature getting the best of her.
Bulla’s attempts at pushing her limits only resulted in fatigue and frustration.
The princess gritted her teeth as she tried to power up, her muscles straining under the intense heaviness of the atmosphere around her. Vegeta stood in the corner, groaning in annoyance.
"Concentrate, Bulla," he growled. "You're not pushing yourself hard enough."
Bulla scowled. She had been training for hours. Didn’t he realize that? While she loved her father, his training style was far from supportive. It was infuriating, to say the least.
"I am concentrating!" she snapped back at him. Bulla rarely raised her voice to Vegeta, but when she did, a burst of her Saiyan heritage came out looking for blood.
Vegeta shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest. "You're not focusing your energy properly. Your mind is wandering. Stay in the moment, or you'll lose control."
Bulla let out a huff of air and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. She knew her father was right; there was lot on her mind distracting her, but his constant criticism was starting to wear the heiress down. After one last exertion of energy, it was clear the heiress was spent.
Her father sighed and lowered the gravity level, causing Bulla to descend towards the ground in exhaustion.
“Bulla,” he started off in a harsh tone, “if you cannot master this form, it’s as if you don’t even have the ability in the first place.”
She glowered in his direction. “Don’t you think I know that?” she retorted.
“Careful girl,” Vegeta said firmly, “as glad as I am that you are getting more in touch with your Saiyan side, I am still your father.”
Bulla’s face fell, knowing he was correct.
“Sorry Daddy,” she spoke quietly, “I’m just starting to think maybe this whole thing is a fluke. Maybe female Saiyans aren’t—”
“Aren’t what? As strong as the Saiyan males?”
“Maybe we’re not meant to go—”
“No daughter of mine will hang her head in defeat so easily.”
His child refused to look him in the eye, which Vegeta took seriously. “Bulla, you are from a lineage of noble blood, the first female Saiyan born in our line in five generations. Someone who possesses unlimited potential. I can accept your inexperience and lack of practice when it comes to your performance, but hear you me, I will never listen to you doubt yourself while I’m around. Do you understand?” Vegeta monologued.
Bulla stared at her father longingly. For all his bravado and brashness, his pride extended not only to himself, but his family. Though his manner was often harsh, in truth, it was his love language in a way.
A lack of a response prompted Vegeta to snap his fingers to get her attention. “Do you understand?” the Saiyan Prince repeated.
She nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Good,” he approved, grabbing her head. Bulla looked up and smiled softly at her father. “You will get better at it Bulla; you just have to clear your head of distractions.”
“Trying to,” she confessed. A frown appeared on her father’s face.
“You’ve been preoccupied during our training sessions since your birthday,” Vegeta mentioned. His eyes narrowed. “Any particular reason?”
Bulla attempted to hold her composure. “Not really,” she lied with confidence. If there was anything Bulla was skilled at, it was hiding her affections for a certain Saiyan hybrid.
Vegeta hmphed. “We’re done for the evening,” he claimed, heading towards the exit. Bulla remained where she stood, determined to try once more on her own.
“I’ll catch up with you later, Dad.”
The Saiyan Prince exited the room with a huff, leaving Bulla to herself. If she wanted to overexert herself again, she was free to do so. As Vegeta departed, he walked into Goten nearby leaving the kitchen, his cheek stuffed while finishing up a last bite.
He scowled. Just the distraction he had been talking about.
“Don’t you have a home of your own?” Vegeta questioned to the younger Saiyan.
Goten shot up when he noticed he was not alone. “Oh, hey Vegeta,” he began casually, almost as if concealing a secret, “how are you this evening?”
“I’d be better if I didn’t have my refrigerator invaded by a third-class mongrel every week.”
The hybrid let out an awkward smile. Mongrel was a new one. No matter how comfortable he was with Vegeta and his family, the Saiyan Prince was one of the few men that could end him in an instant. That sort of power was to be feared. Especially after what transpired the previous month…
“I’m just waiting for Trunks to finish getting ready, honest,” Goten insisted putting his hand behind his head. “Besides, haven’t seen you since Bulla’s birthday. I was overdue for a visit.”
Vegeta flinched at the mention of his daughter’s name. “You have been keeping your distance recently,” he acknowledged the change, “why is that?”
Goten’s eyes widened. Vegeta was never the most approachable man but his eyes were cutting daggers right now at him. Surely, Vegeta couldn’t have known anything about their kiss? Could he? Unlikely, however, he wasn’t about to take any chances.
“Work has been busy,” it wasn’t a lie, Goten figured, “I’m surprised I’m even free tonight.”
The Saiyan Prince focused his eyes once more on the younger man before sneering and walking away. He didn’t appreciate the glib manner Goten took with him. Even if he was a kid he had known since birth, something about Kakarot’s second born felt too familiar.
“One of these days boy, you’ll be able to look me in the eye and tell me exactly what I want to hear.”
It wasn’t a threat, so much as a guarantee.
Goten’s face whitened. Vegeta was always awe-inspiring in his ferocity, but Goten could feel a palpable shift from previous meetings. He just nodded his head in respect in hopes that was all the prince wanted to discuss for the evening. As Vegeta’s form faded, Goten was distracted by strange energy level coming from inside the gravity room. Prior to running into the older Saiyan, Goten thought he felt two agitated powers at first, but then it dissipated. This particular force was starting to get roused once more.
If it wasn’t Vegeta’s ki then…
-=-=-=-
Bulla let out a sigh of irritation and leaned against the wall, feeling a little defeated. Some daughter of the great Saiyan Prince she was.
The bluette contemplated calling it quits for the night, but then she remembered why she was here in the first place. She was determined to master her ability, no matter what. Bulla straightened up and began to practice on her own.
Breathing through her nose, she steadied herself. As she focused, the princess gained a spike in energy once more. Bulla’s brow furrowed as she unleashed a raucous cry while powering up. Her aura intensified with her yelling as specks of gilded light danced around her pliant frame.
While she continued to push herself, sweat poured over Bulla’s face, trying desperately to maintain her golden silhouette. A flicker of brightness exerted from her body as she felt the familiar sensation of her hair standing upright on its own accord. Her reflection in the tile below confirmed she achieved her much sought after level once more.
Goten could only watch from the doorway in awe.
Bulla was a Super Saiyan.
Mouth agape, he continued to observe her with a slight pool of warmth accumulating in his mid-section. Though her hair was no longer the shade of cerulean he adored, Bulla in this gilt form ignited something within him. He caught a whiff of her perspiration, the fighter in him mesmerized. His olfactory receptors rendering him senseless.
Ecstatic, and oblivious to the man behind her, Bulla cheered for joy. Yet, her happiness was fleeting. Just as soon as she transitioned, she rapidly lost control and reverted to her normal state in less than a minute. The heiress let loose a guttural scream, beating her fists on the ground in frustration.
Aggravated again, Bulla turned to leave the training room, only to find Goten standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with shock.
"Bulla!”
Her throat closed at the sight of the handsome hybrid. “Goten…” she managed to croak out in bewilderment.
“I had no idea you could transform into a Super Saiyan!" he exclaimed.
Bulla's face enflamed with mortification. She had been so focused on her training that she hadn't even noticed Goten watching her. It was the first time in nearly a month since she saw him last.
Since she last felt his lips upon her, too.
The blue-eyed woman immediately tried to shake that thought from her mind and pretended to be calm as a cucumber. Bulla folded her arms, playing off the discovery.
"Yeah, but it's not a big deal," she muttered, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
Goten shook his head. "Are you kidding? This is amazing!” he exclaimed in disbelief. “You’re the first female Super Saiyan…in like what, ever? Why didn't you tell anyone?!"
She sighed, knowing that the answer was both complicated and simple. "My dad made me promise not to tell anyone until I've mastered it,” Bulla answered. While her father was a strict instructor, he was effective when it came to pushing her past her limits. “Trunks doesn’t even know.”
“I’m surprised,” Goten continued, “you would think Vegeta would shout it from the rooftops with that Saiyan pride of his.”
“Tougher to be proud of an accident,” she carried on, “though it’s been activated, I’ve yet to conquer it.”
The older Saiyan frowned at younger hybrid’s disappointment in herself.
Ashamed, Bulla turned her head downwards. “I can barely trigger the form on my own,” she confessed, “a lot of times it's out of my control. Even then, there’s maybe only a minute or two that I can hold it for. Some Super Saiyan, huh?”
Nevertheless, Goten continued to stare in awe at her.
“Still,” he started off saying, “for someone newer to training, that’s pretty remarkable.”
She was touched by his astonished manner. Bulla faced him once more. “Yeah, well, maybe if I had started training sooner, this wouldn’t be an issue.”
“Not your fault, B.”
A small smile returned to her face as Bulla brushed a finger on Goten’s chest. “We can’t all be seven-year-old Super Saiyan prodigies, Son Ten.”
The comment prompted a laugh from the elder halfling.
“Dumb luck that I accessed it as early as I did,” Goten said genuinely.
“Still longer than me.”
“You’ll get there,” he admitted, “but you make a good point. I have a lot of experience with the form. Maybe that’s something I can help with?”
Bulla’s ears perked up in curiosity. “Help?” she wondered.
“Yeah,” Goten nodded, “I didn’t mean to pry but as I was approaching the gravity room, I heard you and your father going at it. I know Vegeta is an expert when it comes to this sort of thing, but perhaps another perspective might benefit you?”
“Meaning?”
“What if I helped train you? I could be another tutor.”
Goten train…her?!
The thought of spending additional one-on-one time with Goten was tempting. He did this sort of thing for a living, so she knew he had to have some expertise, even if most of who he taught were regular humans.
Selfishly though, this was a rare chance for her to be near him without the weight of her father’s eye watching over. Trunks’ eyes, too. Whenever Goten was around, Trunks was there like a shadow, and this would be one of those few instances they could justify his absence.
“You?” she asked skeptically.
He laughed. “Is that so strange?”
Aquamarine eyes narrowed in on him. His motives seemed pure enough, but this was Goten who was offering her his help. It was like something out of a dream.
“I know you have a lot on your plate,” Bulla said, not wanting to burden him.
“I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t mean it,” Goten replied. His grin grew cheeky. “Besides,” he started again, “I could take you as a private client and free up some time at the dojo. Honestly, you’d be doing me a favor.”
Her father’s smirk emerged on her lips. “Ah, the truth comes out,” she commented, “someone’s looking for a big pay day.”
“Hardly Briefs,” he winked at the female demi-Saiyan, “if I was charging, you couldn’t afford me.”
Bulla had to give it to the older hybrid, he was brazen and bold and everything she craved in a man. “You know, I have wanted to branch out,” the princess returned, “Dad has been so intent on being my only trainer, I don’t want limit my perspective.”
“See?” Goten answered.
“He’ll be jealous,” Bulla warned playfully, “you prepared for my father’s wrath?”
She said it in a joking tone, but the nerves started to creep back in Goten’s mind. “Ah you know, I didn’t even think about that…” he trailed off, apprehensively.
“Don’t worry,” Bulla rejoined, “what Daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
She bent in close as she said this, the thought of their secret encounter still fresh in her mind. Though she meant those words just for training, Goten couldn’t help but wonder if there was a double meaning. He gave off a smirk of his own.
“Playing with fire, B-Chan.”
“Does that scare you?”
Bulla could hardly believe her audacity. The banter felt so natural, but even she couldn’t deny the flirty undercurrent. It came out briefly during the night of their kiss, and even though they had yet to discuss the moment, it was evident that it was still impacting the two Saiyan hybrids.
He leaned into her. “Anyone who doesn’t fear your father is a stupid man,” Goten laughed.
“Fair,” she returned a chuckle of her own, “and you’re far from stupid.”
The compliment brought a small flush to his cheeks. He cleared his throat and put his hand on her shoulder. “Still,” Goten continued, “despite your dad’s ire, I’m intrigued.”
The heiress cocked an eyebrow.
“Call me inquisitive, but I’m very interested in seeing what you can do.”
Goten gave her a squeeze to confirm his words. There was a small part of him wondering just what the hell he was offering to the bluette; with all of his stirrings this last month did it make sense to suggest this? Goten tried to reason with himself, but the sight of her in that gilded state entranced the man. He had to learn more.
“So, is that a yes?”
The older man was staring directly down at the younger halfling, his tall figure dwarfing hers. With her Saiyan blood, few things intimidated Bulla. Under the shade of Goten however, she felt positively dainty. Her breathing slowed as her lashes curled in fascination.
“It’s a deal, Princess.”
A satisfying shiver tickled down her spine. She inhaled for a moment. “Just tell me when and where,” the beauty simpered.
Goten returned the look. “Tomorrow,” he said to her surprise, “meet me by the fields near Mount Paozu. Should have plenty of privacy.”
“Privacy,” Bulla ruminated blushing, knowing he meant from prying eyes for their training, but the idea of just the two of them out in the open without interference was exhilarating.
“That work for you?”
His question brought her back and she smiled. “Looking forward to it, Sensei.”
The teasing tone prompted a pleased chuckle. “Flattery will get you everywhere Bulla,” Goten added, “let’s do noon. I’ve a feeling if tonight goes late, the extra sleep will be needed.”
The bluette broadened her eyes, realizing the reason he was over. “I almost forgot the three of you had plans,” she confessed as they exited the gravity room.
“Yeah, it’s been far too long!” Goten stated happily in the hallway. Bulla couldn’t help but beam. Though part of her was slightly jealous of the bond the three friends shared, she couldn’t deny how much they enjoyed each other’s company.
“Well don’t get into too much trouble, Goten,” she chaunted, “I need you sharp for tomorrow.”
“Princess’ orders?”
“Absolutely, Third-Class.”
Something about her father’s words coming out of her mouth amused Goten to no end. “Dang, that’s the second time tonight someone has called me that,” he kidded.
Bulla flashed a grin. “Gotta keep you in your place, Son.”
He towered over her once more. “I’m very aware,” his dark eyes glinted, taking in her disheveled appearance. Goten became keenly alert to the fact that this was his first time seeing Bulla tousled and tatty. Most of the women he was attracted to hardly worked out, let alone trained. In many ways, by blood and by nature, his Saiyan side eagerly enjoyed the prospect of sparring with an equal. Though Bulla had further to go, he could tell she was already far stronger than most realized.
“Something on my face?”
She asked the question to mask her nervousness around the man in front of her, as Goten realized he had been quiet for a minute. Now that she mentioned it, Goten did see a minor speck of dirt on her jawbone. He licked his thumb and brushed it from her face, instinctively, to Bulla’s delight and surprise. The older demi-Saiyan ran his thumb over the clean spot.
“Better,” his voice was low and smooth.
Her sharp breath caused him to release her face, but the two never lost eye contact. Bulla’s insides kept pressuring her to bring up the night they kissed; bubbling curiosity fizzing up. It had been gnawing at her for weeks now and she wasn’t about to let the opportunity pass.
“Say Goten, we haven’t talked about—”
“Bulla, quit bugging Goten. He’s got better things to do than entertain a bratty kid.”
Trunks’ sudden emersion, freshly showered and dressed, caught both Bulla and Goten by surprise. The vein on her forehead creased at the interruption and insult. “Not a kid anymore,” she said heaving her chest, “and far more mature than you.”
Goten chuckled, but he had wondered what Bulla was going to bring up before. His gut told him it was what he was pondering himself. Yet, the moment had clearly passed with Trunks’ disruption.
“She has a point, Trunks,” he teased. “Besides,” Goten noted with a wink to Bulla, “the lady’s never a bother.”
Bulla blushed at his defense of her. “See Trunks?” she turned and scrunched her nose in victory, prompting an eye roll.
“Whatever,” her brother gestured with a wave, “we gotta get going anyways, Goten. I told Marron we’d meet her at her new place.”
His friend understood. Goten faced Bulla once more, “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you, B-Chan.”
Their little secret. Bulla nodded back, a small smile creeping. “I’m sure you will,” she replied, entertained.
Trunks eyed the two strangely. Sometimes, they could be so weird together.
“Yeah, yeah, c’mon we don’t have all night,” he muttered walking away with Goten. Bulla blushed as she headed in the opposite direction, her heart pounding noticeably. She turned back to their fading figures, hoping to catch Goten’s attention once more but the two men were already in a new conversation.
“So you’re telling me Valese put it all in her fucking mouth?”
“I’m telling you—I have never seen a girl do that before.”
Her heart stalled at the weakening voices, unmistakably picking up the mention of Goten’s former flame. Had they gotten back together? She tried to quiet the worry in her mind, but sadness panged at her.
The lightness she felt minutes earlier turned heavy.
-=-=-=-
Marron’s apartment building was situated on the corner of a busy street; the hustle and bustle of West City inescapable and yet, her 19th floor loft seemed almost removed from it all. The blonde-haired woman descended the elevator and joined her friends as they waited on the sidewalk to start their evening. Trunks whistled.
"Wow, Marron, you're doing well for yourself," he remarked, eyeing the luxurious building.
“Yeah!” Goten praised. “I know you said you got a great deal but dang, wasn’t expecting this.”
Marron smiled, feeling proud of her new home. "Thanks, guys. It's a bit bigger than I need, but I couldn't resist the view,” she said tucking her loose strands behind her ear. Instead of her usual pigtails, Marron opted for a simple ponytail with whisps that clung to her skin in the sweltering heat.
Goten chimed in. "How are you adjusting to living in the city?"
"It's definitely different from what I'm used to,” Marron said shrugging, “but I'm starting to get the hang of it."
“I’d say you’re doing well so far on your year of trying new things,” Goten commented.
Their lavender-haired friend snorted. “Almost forgot about that,” he jested.
“Trunks, knock it off. Can we just have a nice, friendly night out?”
“I’m genuinely curious though, Marron—” Trunks began.
“About?”
“—what prompted this whole year of new things, anyway?”
Marron looked pensive for a moment as they walked. “I guess I just realized that, here I am at twenty-six, and I’ve yet to do really anything with my life. Most of it has been spent being sheltered on an island with my parents and a pervert—a lovable one, but a pervert nonetheless—and the closest I have ever really gotten to having an adventure was getting turned into chocolate.”
“Whoa,” Goten added, “deep.”
“So I guess in a way, this is just a small attempt to add a little bit of exciting activity into my life—and try to make myself as cool as you both!” she kidded.
Trunks, unable to resist teasing Marron, smirked in her direction. "Well lucky for you,” he joshed putting an arm around her, “we can show you the ropes."
Marron rolled her eyes, knowing that Trunks always had to get a jab in whenever possible. "Yeah, because I'm completely lost without you two," she retorted, playfully punching Trunks in the arm.
Goten quietly hung back a bit as he observed Trunks and Marron shoving each other. It was like nothing had changed from when they were kids.
And yet…
-=-=-=-
“Never have I ever stolen something.”
The three friends were situated in a cozy booth at their latest location, a Western establishment decorated with neon signs and a giant mechanical bull in the corner. The rowdy noise surrounding the trio only helped intensify their buzz.
Goten immediately put his finger down and grimaced. "That's not fair,” he started off saying, “you knew I stole that candy bar when we were kids."
Trunks chuckled. "Exactly, that's why I picked it."
“Not like you’ve ever needed to steal something, Mr. President.”
“Need he says, like he was starving!”
“I was starving!”
“Get over it, Goten.”
Marron hiccupped interrupting the two boys and put her finger down for the same question. "I stole a pen from school once," she confessed quietly.
"Ooh, a real criminal,” Trunks smirked.
Goten rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. Give her a break,” he pleaded, “this is like her fourth round of straight liquor.”
“Hey, she’s the one who insisted on trying something new. This was new.”
Marron shook her head. “It’s fine, Goten,” she confirmed, “besides I’ve got a good one for the next prompt.”
The two men leaned in curiously.
“Never have I ever been caught watching porn by my parents!”
“Fuck,” Trunks cursed taking a shot, “I thought we said no singling out.”
“Oh trust me, I’m not singling you out,” Marron’s gaze turned to Goten who was bright red.
He took a shot and glared. “Most awkward day of my life,” Goten added, embarrassed.
“I can’t believe your mother didn’t ground you right then and there.”
“No worse,” Goten began, “she made my dad give the birds and the bees talk. At sixteen!”
The friends laughed at his misfortune. “And how did that go?” Trunks wondered.
“Let’s just say his lack of a formal education surprisingly has not hindered my dad’s understanding of the human body.”
“Eww,” Marron cringed, “I don’t want to think about Uncle Goku talking about sex.”
“My punishment was worse, though.”
“Worse than that?”
“Yeah,” Trunks took another sip. “My dad sat down and watched it with me describing things with vivid detail in relation to what he does with my mom.”
Goten choked on his beer at the thought. “That’s therapy inducing,” he confessed, “no wonder you’re so fucked up.”
He let out a howl as Trunks punched his arm a little harder than he should have.
“No teenager should ever hear that!” Marron said, her hand covering her face.
“Yeah…not gonna lie, it kind of ruins it for you.”
The three of them reveled in their company. It had been far too long since their last GTM outing, and tonight was a chance to let loose and forget about their problems for a bit. Trunks didn’t have to worry about anything Capsule Corp. related, Marron could leave her doubts and fears behind, and Goten didn’t have to be sidetracked by his ever-growing interest in the sister of his best friend.
But he was.
“How’s your sister been, Trunks?” Goten wondered looking at his reflection in his beer.
The comment made Trunks raise an eyebrow. “Weren’t you two talking when you were over earlier?”
“Sure but,” the younger hybrid attempted to recover, “it was just a couple minutes. I didn’t know if you knew more.”
“Bulla’s Bulla,” Trunks answered with swallowing the remnants of a scotch. He grabbed his second scotch and gave it a swirl. “She’s actually been kind of weird this month.”
Goten’s ears perked up. “Weird how?”
“Like I don’t know,” his friend looked pensive, “she’s just been training a lot more with Dad recently and then when she’s not in her lab, the girl’s sequestered in her room.”
Their other friend twinkled her blue eyes with curiosity. “I didn’t know Bulla trained!” Marron exclaimed in surprise.
“Just this past year she started,” Goten answered absentmindedly with a sip. Trunks and Marron leaned in towards him and he realized he said a bit too much.
“Seems like you’re pretty caught up,” the elder halfling retorted, charily.
A nervous laugh escaped his lips. “Who me?” he teased. “I just ran into her outside of the gravity room and asked about it,” Goten recovered.
“I should reach out to her,” Marron suggested, “I feel bad I’ve been so busy lately. I know she sometimes gets bummed when we all hang out without her.”
“What? She’s my baby sister,” Trunks retorted, “she knows the deal.”
“Still,” Marron continued, “Bulla is our friend too!”
Her gleam at Goten to answer caused a tense chuckle to bubble up once more. “Right, friend,” he nodded, as if trying to persuade himself. Goten cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure she was okay, she seemed a bit stressed.”
“This guy,” Trunks said pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. A manager went to chastise the behavior before Trunks slipped him 100 zeni and disappeared. Marron groaned. The rich boy was untouchable.
“Trunks, I hate it when you smoke,” Marron said waving her hands as he blew a puff in her face. He offered a taste to the blonde.
“One more new thing,” the demi-Saiyan teased.
She considered his words for a moment. With a glare, she snatched it out of his hands and braced herself for the putrid flavor. Marron sulked as she immediately coughed and handed it back to her friend. “Kami, that’s disgusting!”
Trunks took another drag of the cigarette to continue his original point.
“It’s no wonder you’re in a dry spell, Goten. Between you hung up on Valese and now worried about a teenager, your head barely has time to process anything else.”
He took one more puff, his resolve steady.
“Marron, we gotta get him laid tonight.”
“Valese?!” Marron exclaimed, ignoring the last part of Trunks’ statement. “Goten, I thought you said it wasn’t anything.”
The dark-haired man shot a glare at Trunks for revealing things to Marron. “We just had one hangout—nothing serious,” Goten answered, emptying his beer. “She texts sometimes but I haven’t even made plans with her for anything else. I just don’t want to be rude and ignore her.”
She looked at her friend dubiously but relented. “It’s fine Goten, we don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Marron insisted. She coughed again still reeling from the cigarette. “Let’s just continue the game,” the blonde suggested, to Trunks’ dismay. It was Goten’s turn this time.
“Never have I ever…” Goten took his time to think of something worthwhile, and to get back at Trunks. An evil grin appeared on his face. “Never have I ever had a crush on someone in this bar.”
Both Trunks and Marron turned white and stared at each other. Goten knew his plan was working. “Remember guys, you have to be honest.”
His two friends snatched their shots and instantly downed them, leaving the dark-haired Saiyan satisfied with the pot he stirred.
“And with that,” Goten began exiting his seat, “I’m going to grab another round.”
As their companion left, Marron’s cheeks flushed. “So, who’s going to tell Goten we both have had crushes on him?” she joked, trying to clear the air.
Trunks laughed. “Speak for yourself, Marron,” he answered taking a drink of his scotch, “I don’t swing that way.”
“Could’ve fooled me, Prez,” she giggled, the alcohol emboldening her. He rolled his eyes.
“Nah, I just saw a girl across the bar I’m pretty sure I went to high school with. Super cute.”
Marron’s laughter ceased, not knowing if he was being serious or not. “Ah,” she began, “so there’s the truth.”
“And what about you?” he provoked mercilessly. “I know you can’t deny that you had a crush on me once.”
“Once being the key word,” Marron responded with a sip of her other beverage. Once, but never stopped.
“I tend to have that effect on women.”
“What? Attracting them only to drive them away with your personality?”
“Ouch,” Trunks retorted with another swig of alcohol, “we’re going there, huh?”
“You started it,” Marron replied with her tongue sticking out.
The prince eyed his friend with one final long drag of his cigarette. Something about her feistiness really did it for him. He seemed to remember his father insisting that Saiyan men were attracted to strong females. Though he adored Marron’s softer side, he couldn’t help but be enticed when she got frustrated with him. It was more potent than the nicotine in his hand.
He flicked the thin white line and put it out, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. She returned his intense staring, feeling flushed.
Goten returned with a fresh round, cutting the tension of the moment. “That’s two rounds now Trunks I’ve covered,” he kidded, “I expect a full reimbursement.”
Trunks ignored Goten completely as he looked over at the mechanical bull in the corner of the bar. A mischievous grin was planted on his face. "Hey, Marron, I dare you to ride that thing."
Marron rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and puke everywhere? I don't think so.”
"You don’t have to Marron,” Goten insisted. “Maybe we should just stick to hanging out, Trunks."
But Trunks, ever his father’s son, wasn't one to back down from a challenge. "Come on, Marron, don't chicken out. I bet you can't even stay on for five seconds."
Marron narrowed her eyes, feeling a surge of anger at his continuous taunting. "You think I can't do it?” she asked defiantly. Her focused turned to the corner of the bar as she took another shot. “Fine, Trunks,” the blonde declared walking over. “I'll show you what I can do."
As she made her way over to the mechanical bull, Trunks and Goten exchanged worried glances. They had never seen Marron so determined before.
“You just had to go and provoke her,” Goten shook his head.
“She’ll be fine—she’ll fall off immediately.”
Goten sighed as they took their drinks to watch their friend likely make a fool of herself.
Marron nervously hopped on the bull, feeling a little reckless, but eager to try to make Trunks eat his words. She glared at him intensely which prompted an amused chuckle.
When the buzzing of the machine started up, Marron clung on for dear life, her body bouncing and swaying as the bull spun and bucked. She dug her heels in and attempted not to let the springing nature of the machine to get to her. Trunks and Goten watched in amazement, cheering her on as she somehow managed to stay on.
“Holy shit,” Trunks breathed, impressed.
“Go Marron!” Goten cheered from the sides.
While hanging tightly onto the bull, a group of rowdy men nearby started catcalling and making crude remarks. Marron was too distracted to notice, but the noise didn’t escape a certain Saiyan prince. Trunks felt his blood boil, and he turned to confront them.
"Hey, back off! Can't you see she's just trying to have a good time?"
One of the men sneered. "What's the matter, tough guy? Jealous off the bull? I know I am."
Trunks growled as his fist clenched.
“No need for that,” Goten insisted getting in between the increasingly irate Trunks and the rude guy. He gave off a glare of his own. “That’s our friend you’re talking about,” Goten added darkly as a warning.
“The way this one is fuming you’d think it was his date.”
“Hey asshole—”
Goten pushed Trunks gently aside. “It’s not worth it,” he said as Trunks was close to snarling. He cursed under his breath as Goten released his arm.
Marron finally lost her balance and toppled over in laughter. She made it over a minute, much to everyone’s amazement, but especially hers. Oblivious to the near altercation, she squealed at the two Saiyans. Goten gave her a whistle while Trunks was still trying to calm down. As she rose and sauntered over to the edge to meet her friends, the same guy from before loomed above her, blocking her way.
“How about you ride me next sweetie?” he suggested. The man cocked an eyebrow in her direction, nearly causing her to retch.
“I think I’m all set,” she said quietly looking to pass.
“I promise you’ll enjoy yourself, hot stuff.”
“No thanks,” Marron tried to maneuver past him but within a second, she felt the firm slap of a hand on her ass.
Her eyes bugged out, as silence befell the room. Marron barely had time to process her shock as, in the matter of an instant, she saw a fist fly past her to make contact on the man’s jaw. Trunks’ uppercut brought the man up into the air, hitting a hanging light and coming back down fully unconscious. A thud echoed as his body landed and the rest of the guy’s friends stood still.
Trunks flipped his hair out of his eyes to observe the remaining men.
“Anyone else?” he questioned coldly.
Goten’s face whitened, and Marron’s stunned expression barely had time to form before the rowdy group charged at Trunks all at once.
Instinctively, Goten hoisted Marron over his shoulder in a panic and ran for the exit, while Trunks easily took on the riffraff. He placed her on the sidewalk and wordlessly gestured for her to stay put. The half-Saiyan immediately ran back into the establishment to do the same for Trunks who had already made work of the other men. As Goten lifted Trunks, the latter threw out several large wads of cash as they were chased by the manager out of the building.
Scooping Marron up in his free arm, Goten flew off with both of his best friends over his shoulders, angry shouts from the manager echoing from the ground.
Trunks steadied his breathing as he felt the sensation of someone looking at him. He slowly raised his eyes to see Marron gazing pensively his way. The two blushed and remained silent as Goten finally unleashed a loud sigh stuck in his throat.
They stayed that way the rest of the flight home. Goten managed to make it to Marron’s building in one piece with both friends in tow. “Kami,” he breathed setting them down, “you’re getting fucking heavy, Trunks.”
“Hey, no one said you had to keep holding the both of us!”
Marron embraced Goten. “Thank you for your help,” she murmured as he held her. The blonde released him from his grasp and went to squeeze Trunks in a similar manner.
The eldest hybrid wordlessly tightened his grip as Goten turned his head, trying to give some privacy. He cleared his throat.
“I actually should get going,” Goten admitted, thinking of his next day appointment with Bulla. “Trunks, can you get her upstairs alright?”
His friend nodded, still quiet with Marron hugging him firmly. She muttered something into Trunks’ shoulder that sounded like, “Goodnight Goten.”
The dark-haired man’s lips curled upwards. He saluted the two and took off towards his own apartment. Marron lifted her head to her friend who looked down at her intently.
“Alright cowgirl,” he teased, “time to go.”
-=-=-=-
Trunks helped Marron to her apartment door and held her purse while she fumbled for her keys. They were silent for the whole walk upstairs. Uncomfortable silence for Trunks.
“Sorry about getting us kicked out, Mare.”
The older Saiyan man was embarrassed by how unfittingly he acted. Normally, he was more in control of his senses, but something just burned inside him seeing Marron’s backside grabbed by a total stranger.
Marron smiled at her friend. “You were protecting my honor,” she teased with a grin, “I can’t say I’ve had many men do that for me before.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Trunks jested back, “everybody gets one.”
She finally found the right key and opened her entry door ajar. A smirk reminiscent of her mother appeared on her face. “You mean to tell me if another guy tried to touch me, you wouldn’t knock him out too?” Marron wondered, batting her eyelashes.
The thought prompted Trunks to furrow his brows. He hoped that no one would ever try to touch Marron inappropriately again, but he knew that there were people out there capable of harming the beautiful blonde. His blood was on fire just imagining it.
“I’d probably do worst than that,” Trunks confessed softly.
His words stalled Marron’s movements for a moment. She glanced up at her best friend and studied the hardness of his visage, as if he could cut ice with those baby blues of his. When he set his gaze on her, however, the eyes tempered themselves. Marron quivered where she stood.
Nimbly, her fingers brushed away a loose strand of hair to tuck behind her ear.
“You’d do that for me?” the blonde asked, touched by his devotion.
Her lavender-haired companion brushed the remaining hairs to the side of her face as her cheeks reddened. “There is very little I wouldn’t do for you, Marron.”
The two were silent again for moment.
“Trunks,” she said quietly, breaking the tension between them. “There’s—there’s something else I’d like to try for my year of all things new.”
The hybrid raised his eyebrows in curiosity. They were already back at her place, how much more energy did she have to go out?
“What, Marron?” his tone was not harsh, merely inquisitive.
Taking a breath for courage, Marron leaned in. Shoot your shot. “I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to be with a Saiyan,” she whispered, her alcohol flush evident. Or perhaps she was nervous?
Trunks inhaled quickly. The normally timid Marron (at least timid when it came to these matters) just essentially gave him the greenlight he had been searching for.
“Marron,” he breathed her name with hallowed reverence.
She blushed as she tilted her head up even closer. “More so,” his friend began again, “a Saiyan Prince,” Marron murmured, hoping her directness left no doubt about who she meant.
Her chin was cupped by Trunks’ firm grip, as she found herself gazing directly into his piercing eyes. Marron parted her mouth in anticipation. She was ready for anything.
He smirked, too much his father’s son, and she couldn’t help but notice how much they took after their parents’ mannerisms. Trunks’ self-assured appearance made her wonder what he’d do next.
She felt his fingers rub against her jawline, keeping her focus on him. Her heart skipped a beat as he leaned in to whisper in her ear.
“Sorry, Marron.”
The blue-eyed girl’s heart sank for an instant as his tone sounded almost mocking.
“I think my dad is still mad at your mom for breaking his arm,” he continued to tease, “I don’t know if he’d be down to fuck her daughter.”
The comment infuriated Marron as he laughed irreverently at her expense.
“Trunks, you asshole, you know who I mean—”
She didn’t finish her sentence as the young prince claimed her mouth in ravenous fashion. He steadied her against the door and pushed it back further until the two were in her apartment. Trunks lifted her up with one arm and used the other to slam the door behind them, eventually boosting her other leg to match its partner.
Marron grabbed fistfuls of lavender hair as she matched his passion with the kiss, allowing access to her tongue and so much more.
Eventually, Trunks stumbled into the bedroom and threw them both on the bed, hovering over her as he started to lift off her clothes as well as his own. He grinned as he saw her undergarments were her signature pink color. The hybrid tore away from her lips momentarily to lean back and reveal his chiseled torso with the removal of his tank. Marron’s mouth began to water. He just oozed confidence; her entire core trembled.
They observed each other, silently for a second, ragged breathing between them both. In a moment, nothing was going to be the same for the two friends. As much as he wanted her, Trunks needed to be certain this wasn’t just a bibulous fantasy.
“Trunks?”
The softness of her timbre brought him back. He stared her down, intent on gaining clarity.
“Tell me now,” Trunks whispered in between exhales, “tell me now, if you changed your mind and I’ll go without a fuss.”
Marron stared at him wordlessly. “What makes you think I changed my mind?”
“Nothing, I just—want to make sure you want this. Really want this.”
She was moved by his concern and looked up with a twinkle in her eye. “More than you know, your highness,” Marron teased, never breaking contact with his gaze.
A guttural moan escaped his lips as he captured hers once again. There was no stopping him this time.
Especially since he didn’t even need to ask her to call him that.
-=-=-=-
Follow TruMar on their hot and heavy night with my companion piece “Entangled” here :)
Notes:
Chapter 3 and weeeee, I love a good side romance. When I was originally drafting the story, I figured I’d have some background T/M but as I wrote, discovered I had much bigger plans for these two. While the focus will of course be B/G, I’m pumped to dive into more of their dynamic as well.
I’m also excited to explore the idea of a Super Saiyan that struggles with maintaining that power. It was an idea I had years ago, so I’m eager to have Bulla learning to work through her doubts and try to master it. Plus, we love a good excuse for Goten to help LOL
I realize this brief glimpse into Planet Souljin may not answer the questions on exactly who they are, where they’ve been, etc. – but there will be a lot to elaborate on in the near future.
Chapter 4: Trunks and Marron attempt to move on from their night together. Goten and Bulla get closer while training.
It goes without saying the support I’ve received means so much. I truly am grateful for such a great community of DBZ fans and Broten shippers. Wanted to take a second to thank my reviewers CammiKazzie, DulcetShoujo, vagusvagus, Nana, Writinginthetimeofcovid, Mononoke, Only the Lonely, ShadowSaiyan316, BabyBaby, TruMar4Eva and all those who have left kudos!
Also, shout out to the Broten Squad discord channel for reigniting my passion in the fandom and being so encouraging and kind. If you are a Broten fan and haven’t joined, I highly suggest taking at look.
-SonChan
Chapter 5: Chapter 4: Second Best
Summary:
Chapter 4: Trunks and Marron attempt to move on from their night together. Goten and Bulla get closer while training.
Notes:
Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan for the concept of Planet Souljin and some future characters, but majority of OC’s are mine.
Author’s Note: It goes without saying the support has been overwhelming and I am beyond grateful for everyone who has said a kind word in a review or even left kudos. For those who are just quietly reading along, know I appreciate you too! Sorry this chapter took a bit longer—it’s been a crazy month so far. The good news is most of my story board is complete, so now it’s just a matter of getting everything put together! Thank you all again for the encouragement.
Also! As a fun little companion, I created a Spotify playlist for “Tangled Up in Blue” that I am happy to share here! It’s a mix of songs that fit either by sound or title, chapter titles, or just some old favorites. Hope you enjoy!!
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Kame Tough, Second Best, In the Blood
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 4: Second Best
The sunlight flickered its golden rays into Marron’s bedroom, illuminating the apartment with gilded light. Trunks stirred, eyes closed, as the daylight crossed paths with his face. Situated in the queen-sized bed, the younger Saiyan prince’s arm was draped over the edge. Slowly, he lifted his languorous gaze, his focus coming back. He groaned as he stretched his bare arms, suddenly taking note of the pink bedding that was so unlike his own at home.
And then it hit him where he was and what transpired the night before…
Trunks immediately shot up in a panic, turning to face his friend, only to find she was not in bed beside him. His labored breathing steadied while he reflected on the evening.
He slept with Marron.
Marron. The noseless wonder, well former noseless wonder, he corrected himself. How mercilessly he used to tease her for that as a child. Hell, he still teased her mercilessly. But something shifted even before they ended up in bed together; when she was a teenager and sprouted multiple body parts (nose included) Trunks was not blind to it. In fact, it was hard not to notice her radiance every time she entered a room. Her sunny hair and disposition brightened even the darkest of times for him.
He never dared to tell her this. The banter and mild flirting were ways to keep his affections at bay, always skating the line without ever having to make the leap of faith over it.
So, he teased, he scoffed, he chided—everything he learned by observing his father in the formative years of his life. Though Vegeta softened over time, Trunks was never able to effectively reconcile how to process his feelings as a man. For the most part, he dodged any avenues of emotional intimacy, instead settling for the rare one-night stand to satiate his needs. He hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in years, if ever. Yet, deep down, he knew he craved more.
And there she was…
The spark between them had been undeniable. Trunks had been drawn to Marron's confidence, her quick wit, and her alluring presence. He had found himself captivated by the woman he knew from childhood, and he couldn't deny the pull he had felt towards the blonde.
As the night had progressed, their inhibitions lowered, and their bodies gravitated towards each other once permission was had. Trunks remembered the rush of emotions as he held her close, the way her soft lips tasted against his, and how their forms had intertwined with a passionate urgency. Enchanted by the feel of her skin, Trunks venerated the way she had responded to his touch, how it moved perfectly in sync with his.
The hybrid recalled how he was overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, utterly consumed by the desire to make her feel good, to please her in every way he could. And when they had finally given in to their desires, Trunks had been mesmerized by the sight of Marron, her body glistening with sweat, her eyes filled with a mixture of pleasure and vulnerability.
Running his hand through his hair, Trunks let out a sigh. It had been an amazing night, but he couldn’t help but feel as though their actions were about to open a huge can of worms. Not only were they friends, they were best friends. The only person closer to each of them was Goten. Trunks’ face blanched thinking about how Goten would never let them live it down. And then there was Bulla—Marron was also one of her closest confidants. How awkward would that be to be dating a sibling’s best friend?
Even though the physical chemistry with Marron was there, on top of their evident compatibility, Trunks worried that taking things to the next level would only further complicate things. No matter how much he desired her, bodily and mentally, the logistics of going from friends to something more frightened him more than any villain he faced.
Trunks heard an unpleasant gagging sound coming from the bathroom and realized where Marron had run off to. Another painful noise echoed out behind the door, and he winced at her misfortune. Trunks felt a smidgen of guilt at the amount of alcohol he prompted the blonde to drink. It never affected him in the same way, but he tended to forget that tolerances for humans were far lower than Saiyans. He put on his underwear and went to grab a glass of water for her in the kitchen while she dealt with her sickness.
…
Marron retched into the porcelain throne before her, mortified at how helpless she was to the previous night’s alcoholic version of revenge. It was an all too sobering reminder of how she couldn’t hold her liquor well. She was amazed she even made it this long without puking her guts out, but the blonde was thankful Kami spared her the humiliation of heaving all over Trunks.
Trunks!
As she wiped her mouth, still languishing over the toilet, Marron’s cheeks reddened as she recalled the passion-fueled night. The memories were a blur of laughter, stolen kisses, and heated moments. She remembered the feel of his lips on hers, the electricity that had coursed through her body as he had caressed her skin, and the way he whispered her name in her ear.
But now, in the harsh light of the morning after, Marron couldn't help but feel embarrassed and ashamed hanging over the toilet. She had let herself get carried away by her feelings for Trunks, and now she was paying the price. Her head throbbed, her stomach churned, and she felt a deep sense of regret for letting things go so far.
With a heavy sigh, Marron flushed the toilet and stood up slowly, feeling weak and shaky. She splashed her face with cold water, hoping it would help her sober up. As she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she noticed her disheveled appearance; her makeup smudged, hair a mess. The blonde felt a mixture of self-pity and disappointment in herself.
“So much for shooting your shot,” Marron groaned to only herself. Just the thought of a shot caused her to turn green and return to the toilet once more.
A knock on the door was barely heard over a second flush when Marron was finally finished.
The queasy blonde straightened herself up as best as she could, taking deep breaths to steady her nausea. She opened the door to find Trunks standing there with a glass of water in hand, a sweet yet concerned look on his face.
"Hey, you okay?" Trunks asked gently, holding out the glass of water to Marron. "I should have remembered you don’t handle your liquor as well as Saiyans do."
Marron took the glass with a weak smile, grateful for Trunks' thoughtfulness. She took a sip of water, swishing it in her mouth before spitting it out and rinsing her mouth. "I'll be fine," she murmured, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude. "Thank you for the water."
Her shirtless companion nodded, his expression softening. "I'm sorry if I pushed you too hard," he said sincerely.
Marron shook her head, feeling a wave of warmth towards Trunks despite her hangover. "No, it's not your fault," she said, reaching out to touch his arm briefly. "I wanted to let loose, too."
Trunks smiled, relieved that Marron didn't blame him. They stared at each other in silence for a minute, both quietly reflecting on their own thoughts. The silence started to become too much for the heir, who needed to get things off his chest.
“Well,” Trunks awkwardly began again, “last night was…different.”
He saw her face fall and instantly regretted his choice of words. The lavender-haired man put his hands up in protest. “No, no!” Trunks rambled trying to find something better to say. “Not like bad different, I just meant—”
“Different for us,” Marron resolved for him.
“Exactly,” he agreed. The younger Saiyan prince exhaled a deep sigh that had been forming far too long in his lungs. “It was actually a lot of fun,” he confessed. An image of a naked Marron writhing beneath him flashed across his memory, causing him to blush.
Marron must have had the same vision, he thought, as her coloring also deepened. “You were um,” the blonde bit her lip before resuming, “very attentive.”
Her arm rested across her bosom; nipples still sore from an all too eager mouth.
Trunks felt a jolt of excitement shoot through him at her words, but he tried to play it cool. "Well, I always aim to please," he said with a small grin. “And you seemed quite...appreciative," his voice tinged with amusement and a hint of flirtation.
Marron blushed even more, but she couldn't deny the fire that still existed between them. "I can't believe we're talking about this," she said, trying to lighten the mood.
Trunks smirked, feeling more comfortable now that they were being honest with each other. "Yeah, it's definitely not our usual topic of conversation," he said, his eyes locking with hers.
Marron placed the now empty glass of water on the bathroom counter. "So, what now?" she asked, unsure of how to proceed. Her heart thumped in anticipation. Would this be the beginning of a long hidden fantasy of hers, or was everything ruined?
“We’ll just chock it up to the alcohol,” Trunks answered with a grin. He tried to appear like his usual confident self, but it was all show at this point. However, this was lost on his companion, who took the prince at his word.
Marron’s smile slowly lowered as he spoke. Of course, she mused, I’m so stupid—of course he just sees this as a one-night stand.
“Right, the alcohol…” she spoke slowly.
“Could happen to anyone.”
“Yeah…” Marron agreed, “anyone.”
Trunks noticed the shift in the mood. He touched Marron’s shoulder once more and offered a thoughtful smile. “Still best friends?” Trunks asked her with a sweet stroke of his thumb.
Best friends. Just friends.
“Always best friends,” Marron promised him gently. She hoped he was unable to detect the hint of sadness that accompanied her answer, but she did notice his eyes flicker. Her companion cleared his throat.
“Speaking of best friends,” Trunks continued, "let's keep this between us, alright?" he said, his tone serious. "Especially from Goten. He'd never let us hear the end of it."
Though Marron wasn’t exactly rushing to tell her other best friend she and Trunks had intercourse, the keeping it a secret part only solidified her thoughts. She was a shameful secret the heir of the Briefs empire couldn’t afford. More than that, it solidified the fact that Trunks didn’t see the night the same way she did.
Still Marron nodded, understanding the need for discretion. "Agreed," she said, trying to hide her disappointment behind a façade of nonchalance. Her face burned, attempting to keep hot tears inside. Marron brisked past Trunks on the way to her kitchen hoping he couldn’t make out her expression.
“I’ll make some breakfast,” she quietly confirmed with a bow.
“Marron, you don’t have to—”
“Nonsense,” the blonde gave a weak smile, “can’t let you leave on an empty stomach.”
Trunks returned the grin as his stomach rumbled loudly. “You know me too well, Mare.”
She paused momentarily in the doorway before leaving. “I believe I do, Mr. Briefs.”
-=-=-=-
“So, what happened after I left?”
Goten was on his mobile phone in the middle of a vast field, close to a babbling brook and nestled near the mountains of his childhood. It was a picturesque place to train, and the day couldn’t have been more beautiful. While awaiting Bulla’s arrival, he called Trunks to see how the rest of the evening went for him.
“Eh, uneventful…” the man on the other line said imperceptibly.
“You just dropped her off and left?”
“Yeah, I mean no, I made sure she got into her apartment okay…”
“But you didn’t…stay?”
“Goten, what are you implying?”
“I’m just saying. I caught a vibe.”
“The only vibe you caught was me defending a friend. If those guys smacked your ass instead, I would have done the same.”
“My hero,” Goten cooed mockingly.
“Shut up.”
He snickered at his friend’s frustration. In the distance, a form flying towards him caught his eye and the demi-Saiyan couldn’t help but grin. Even far away, he recognized that blue hair anywhere. “Trunks, I’ll talk to you soon. My client just arrived.”
“Working on a Sunday—you drew the short straw,” Trunks replied on the line.
Goten saw Bulla wave as she approached, which he returned happily. “It’s not so bad,” he told Trunks, observing his sister carefully, “I don’t mind this one.”
“If it’s a chick, just try not to shit where you eat. Believe me, not worth it.”
He choked immediately at the implication of his friend’s words, startling Trunks on the other end. “Geeze, you okay there?”
“Yeah,” Goten coughed, trying his darndest to not sound too suspicious. “Just inhaled too quickly,” he attempted to explain, “but I’m okay. I really do have to go though.”
“Cool, man. I’ll catch you later.”
As Bulla touched the ground, she was smiling up at the older man closing his phone. Goten took an interest in her black spandex clad figure. Somewhat like Vegeta’s training gear, Bulla was wearing a shorter version that showed off her toned legs. Her hair pulled up in a high ponytail, giving Goten a perfect view of her unblemished face. It struck him she rarely put it up, and he had to admit he enjoyed being able to see every curve of her countenance.
“Welcome Princess,” Goten greeted with a small bow. A snicker escaped his lips as she playfully shoved him.
“Someone looks surprisingly well-rested despite a late night out,” Bulla declared impressed.
“Thankfully, I didn’t drink as much as your brother and Marron,” Goten divulged, showing off a cheeky grin.
“Must have,” she responded, “I didn’t even see Trunks at breakfast this morning. He’s gotta be passed out still.”
Goten took note of that detail; Trunks was usually never one to miss a free meal at the Capsule Corp. main house, especially breakfast. Perhaps he had slept in…or perhaps, Goten’s original suspicions were correct. He resolved to get to the bottom of those details soon.
“Alright Sensei Goten,” Bulla began changing the topic, “so how’s this gonna work? Are we just gonna fight each other until my ability randomly activates?”
“Whoa, hold on tiger,” he kidded, “not quite there yet.”
She raised an eyebrow, as if that wasn’t the whole point of the training.
“Let’s start with the basics so I can get a sense of your abilities.”
Goten sat down on the grass, legs crossed, and gestured for Bulla to join him. She hesitated but followed his lead, sitting down with her shapely legs crossed as well. He placed his hands below hers, and she felt a tingling sensation where their skin touched.
“When I first learned to fly, this was an exercise Gohan worked on with me—”
“Well, you just saw me fly. Do I need to still do this part?”
“Do you ask Vegeta all these questions?”
The heiress conceded with a smile. “Fair point,” she stated, “continue please.”
"Okay, where was I?” he questioned a bit disoriented.
“Ki.”
“Ah, thank you—yes, let's work on your ki control," Goten said, his voice calm and soothing. "Close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Inhale deeply, as slowly as you can, and then exhale gradually."
Bulla did as she was instructed, closing her eyes, and taking deep breaths. She tried to clear her mind and focus on her breathing, but she couldn't help but feel conscious of Goten's presence so close to her. She could feel the warmth of his hands beneath hers, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
Meanwhile, Goten was doing his best to concentrate on the task at hand, but he found himself stealing glances at Bulla. Her serene expression, the way her lashes fanned against her skin, and the slight flush on her cheeks made her look even more beautiful to him. He quickly shook his head, trying to push away the distracting thoughts.
Bulla opened one of her eyes, attempting to sneak a look, quick to notice the older halfling's devoted attention. She reddened, feeling self-conscious, and quickly averted her gaze. Goten cleared his throat, hoping to hide his embarrassment.
"Okay, now try to channel your energy and maintain a steady flow," Goten said, endeavoring to regain his composure.
Bulla focused on her ki, doing what she could to follow Goten's instructions. Energy coursed through her, radiating from within. She was determined to improve. After a bit, the bluette opened her eyes and looked up at Goten. Despite his best efforts not to, he was still watching her attentively.
"How am I doing?" Bulla asked, her voice soft.
Goten smiled. "You're doing great, Bulla. Your ki control has improved even just in these last few minutes,” he praised.
Bulla beamed with pride at Goten's compliment, her confidence growing as she continued to channel her energy, maintaining a steady flow of ki.
"Thanks, Goten. I'm really trying," Bulla replied, her resolve evident in her voice.
Impressed with Bulla's progress already, Goten was pleasantly surprised. He could see the willpower in her eyes, and it fueled his own desire to help her improve even more.
"Nice work, Bulla," Goten said, taking a step back to create some distance between them. "We can move on," he added. "Let's practice some basic strikes and blocks. Remember to focus your ki into your attacks and defenses."
Bulla nodded, eager to put her newfound control to the test. She followed Goten's lead as they began to spar, exchanging punches and kicks. Bulla was quick and agile, using her ki to enhance her movements and strikes. Goten was impressed with her speed and precision, and he had to step up his game to keep up with her.
Then she went on the attack.
He expected her to be skilled, but he wasn't prepared for the ferocity with which she fought.
Bulla wasted no time, charging at Goten with incredible speed. She unleashed a barrage of punches and kicks, her movements fluid and powerful. Goten was shocked by her intensity and had to quickly react to block her blows.
If there had been any doubt about Bulla’s relation to Vegeta, it was quashed instantly as her leg swept Goten’s shins for a low blow, knocking him flat on his back.
The little shit.
…
“Alright let’s take five,” Goten panted, hands on his knees.
Bulla joined in with heaving breaths of her own, attempting to stretch out the soreness she was feeling in her muscles. “Fine by me,” she admitted a little too freely.
After nearly three hours straight of nonstop sparring, the two hybrids needed the rest. They both went to their respective bags to quench their thirst.
As Goten drank a huge gulp of water, he couldn’t help but chuckle, catching Bulla’s attention.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, still exhaling heavily.
A small grin appeared on his face. “I didn’t expect you to be giving me a run for my money,” Goten confessed.
Bulla snorted. “Please,” she began, “you’ve barely broken a sweat.”
“Yeah?” he retorted with his smile turning into a smirk. The older hybrid removed his tank top soaked with perspiration revealing his perfect torso, beads of sweat forming on the abdominal muscles. His taut pectorals caused the heiress to inhale sharply. It took everything within Bulla’s power to not gawk and stare at the gorgeous specimen before her.
“What do you call this then?”
Goten tossed the perspiring tank at Bulla, prompting an explicit groan of disgust from the princess.
“EW!” she screamed, smacking the garment on the ground, much to the older demi-Saiyan’s amusement. As he laughed, Bulla’s eyes became daggers. “You’re such a boy, Goten!” the younger woman insisted.
“Pft, boy—that’s all man, Bulla,” Goten winked at her, inciting a confusing mix of annoyance and desire within the girl.
The bluette rolled her eyes in her attempt to remain unbothered. “Man-child, perhaps,” she countered, only causing Goten to laugh even more.
“So easy to get you riled up,” he teased as he took another sip of water. “Definitely a Briefs,” Goten continued.
Before Bulla could respond with a witty counterremark, a ring hummed from Goten’s cell phone. The dark-haired man grabbed his device to see Valese’s name flash across the screen, as did Bulla who discreetly took a sip of water, all while keeping her eyes peeled in interest. She felt a small pang of jealousy emerging inside of her but attempted to keep it wedged down within. Goten paused as his phone lit up but shook his head and let it go to voicemail. This caught Bulla by surprise. Part of her was compelled to remain silent, but ever her father’s daughter, she wanted to say her piece.
“You know,” she began, “you could’ve taken the call. I don’t mind.”
Goten’s eyebrow raised in confusion. “Mind what?” he wondered.
“If you wanted to talk to your girlfriend.”
“My girlfriend?”
His eyebrows now furrowed, more bewildered than ever. Suddenly, dark orbs sparkled in realization to what Bulla was referring to. “Oh that,” Goten muttered looking at his phone. The ebony-haired man set his cell down back near his things. “Not my girlfriend anymore. Valese and I broke up months ago, B-Chan. You remember.”
The princess froze. She remembered alright. She remembered how Goten showed up drunk at her brother’s place, lovelorn and incoherent. It took everything within her that night to not pile on Valese and instead, Bulla listened to his heartbreak and acted as a confidant. Seeing him so torn broke her, and ever since she overheard Trunks and Goten’s conversation in the hallway, all she could think about was how upset he was that moment months earlier.
She never wanted him to feel that way again.
“Goten, it’s okay,” Bulla started off, “I heard you and Trunks talking about it last night.”
Now he was confused again. “I’m not following,” Goten confessed.
“I’m not naïve, Goten,” she answered, “but maybe I’m mistaken. Could be a hookup thing instead.”
“Bulla, what are you talking about…”
“I heard Trunks say, and I quote, ‘Valese put it all in her fucking mouth’— now I don’t know about you but that sounds an awful lot like a blow—”
“Kami, Bulla!” Goten exclaimed, horrified at the words coming out of her mouth. His deep flush confirmed his embarrassment at not only her candidness, but the sheer misread of the situation.
“What?” her teal eyes shone in half-curiosity and half-annoyance at being interrupted.
“You shouldn’t talk like that,” Goten reproached turning redder than before.
“I’m just repeating what Trunks said,” she alleged casually.
“Not just that part but,” the elder hybrid couldn’t even finish his sentence. He didn’t want to restate what she almost said. Goten emitted a faint sigh. “Bulla, I was talking to Trunks about Valese not knowing how to eat a popsicle. Get your head out of the gutter and please never go into the gutter again!”
The princess almost didn’t believe him. “A popsicle?” she deliberated.
“Yes, I hung out with Valese last week. Platonically. We got popsicles. She…well, she didn’t know how to eat it and instead of licking it…”
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Bulla rolled her eyes once more at the lunacy of it all. Valese wasn’t exactly a Rhodes scholar but still. She paused to look him head on. “So, you aren’t…back together?”
“No, we aren’t.”
“And you’re not banging each other?”
“Bulla, stop—”
There was a small flicker of amusement on Bulla’s end knowing Goten was blushing furiously at her words. He looked a bit angry, which she found endearing. Still, the heiress was unperturbed. “Goten, why would you hang out with an ex that’s broken your heart multiple times if you aren’t dating or sleeping together?”
Goten was almost determined not to answer the bluette out of irritation for her candor. Unbeknownst to her, the demi-Saiyan man was fighting off a certain stiffness courtesy of the princess’ colorful vocabulary as well as her sweltering form. However, her straightforward gaze into his own eyes saw the seriousness of her question. Bulla brought up a good point, one that both Trunks and Marron had both said to him as well, but her directness prompted Goten to really analyze his situation.
“It’s complicated.”
It was the truth, though Bulla didn’t seem too pleased with the response.
“Complicated?” the bluette repeated.
Goten grew a bit exasperated with her line of questioning. He dealt with it from Trunks, from Marron, from everyone else in his life…the last thing he wanted to hear it from was the woman who had been making his head spin for the last month.
“Adult relationships are complicated sometimes, Bulla.”
This caused her stare to darken immediately.
“I’m an adult, Goten,” she derided, almost needing to verbalize that fact for the both of them to realize it. The heiress didn’t want to say it aloud, feeling like acknowledging made her seem younger for doing so, but he wasn’t giving her much of a choice. A flash of her parents’ temperament flared. “Don’t patronize me,” Bulla commanded.
Goten was taken aback but her sudden shift in tone. Though he was tired of the prying, the elder half-Saiyan had no intention of offending her. His face fell when he noticed he had.
“Sorry, Bulla. I didn’t mean it in that way,” Goten responded, “not trying to patronize. Honest.”
She softened her glare immediately. Bulla sighed at his gentle reply. “I’m sorry,” the bluette apologized as well. “Everyone still thinks of me as this kid,” she continued, “I get a bit defensive about it.”
“You? Defensive?”
Her companion laughed as she smacked his arm. “Kidding, kidding—” he insisted. He felt the grip on his arm loosen but remained around him. Goten observed Bulla’s expression downcast still. “Bulla?”
“Goten,” Bulla spoke softly, “I know I have no business having an opinion on what you do with your life, but please; don’t get back together with her.”
“B-Chan, I’m not back together—”
“I know you say that now,” Bulla continued, “but what happens when you’re lonely? When you’re sad? Will you leave that door open?”
Goten was astonished by her ability to read the situation for what it was. An option.
The younger hybrid could see what he couldn't— that he was keeping the door open, just in case. It was something he hadn't even acknowledged himself yet.
“Bulla…”
“I understand being lonely, Goten—really I do.”
Her eyes dimmed as the confession left her lips. “But I promise you that you have friends and family that care. You’ve come so far since your breakup, whether or not you realize it. I just would hate for you to not be able to move on.”
Goten was surprised by Bulla’s maturity and insight. He looked at her, his eyes filled with admiration.
“You’re right,” he said quietly, “I do have friends and family who care about me. I’m so grateful for that.”
He pulled her into a tight embrace, and Bulla was taken aback for a moment. She didn’t expect this level of affection from him. But then she relaxed in his embrace, feeling the comfort of his sturdy arms around her and the strength of his bare chest. The latter part making her head spin.
“Thank you,” he whispered, “for reminding me of that. You really are an adult now, Bulla. And a wise one at that.”
Bulla felt a sense of validation from Goten’s words. She had always felt like she had to prove herself to be taken seriously as an adult. But now, she felt like Goten truly saw her as one.
“Thank you,” she replied, “that means a lot coming from you.”
They held onto each other for a moment longer before finally pulling away. Goten smiled at her, and Bulla returned the gesture.
“I think we can call it quits for today’s session,” he said, “it’s getting late.”
The bluette nodded in agreement. “So, does this mean we’ll keep doing this?” Bulla asked.
Goten smirked. “As if that was ever in question,” he said in a low voice. His eyes twinkled amused. “I still need to see what else you can do.”
She chuckled, realizing that this first day they didn’t even get to Super Saiyan training. “I guess you’ll find out,” Bulla answered with a grin.
“Suppose I will,” Goten returned, eyeing her curiously.
-=-=-=-
One week later…
A week later, Goten and Bulla resumed their training in the fields near Mount Paozu.
Goten was impressed by Bulla's resilience. She was putting up a tough fight, using her speed and agility to keep up with him. He could see her improving in real-time, adapting her moves and strategies based on his feedback. He was proud of her progress and couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at having such a formidable sparring partner.
Bulla, on the other hand, was enjoying the challenge. She had always been competitive and sparring with Goten pushed her to push herself harder than ever before. The heiress was determined to prove herself as a capable fighter, showcasing her skills and making the most of the opportunity to spar with someone as experienced as Goten.
The energy in the field crackled with intensity as the two half-Saiyans continued their exchange of blows. Goten launched a series of rapid punches, which Bulla swiftly dodged, countering with a roundhouse kick that Goten narrowly avoided. They moved with lightning speed, their movements a blur.
"Nice moves, Bulla!" Goten called out, impressed by her dexterity.
Bulla grinned, her sapphire eyes shining with determination. "Thanks, Goten! I'm just getting started!"
Their spar continued, with Bulla unleashing her full potential. She replicated some of her father's signature moves, delivering powerful kicks and punches with precision.
Goten, in turn, used his experience and skill to counter Bulla's attacks, deflecting her blows with well-timed blocks and launching his own offensive strikes. He was nothing short of astonished by Bulla's advancement, but he also knew that he had to give his best to keep up with her.
As they battled on, Goten noticed Bulla's focus, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Seeing her grow into a capable fighter from the young girl he used to play make believe with was truly impressive. Though he knew that Bulla had faced challenges and struggles, she was showing resilience and strength.
At one point, Bulla managed to catch Goten off guard with a swift uppercut, sending him flying back. Goten recovered quickly, a grin spreading across his face as he realized she drew a small amount of blood. "You're definitely a hellcat, Bulla," he said, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip.
Bulla smirked, her chest heaving from the exertion of the intense spar. "Gotta keep you on your toes, Goten,” she retorted, her eyes sparking with purpose.
They charged at each other again, their fists colliding with force. The sound of their punches echoed through the field as they continued to exchange blows, pushing each other to their limits.
As the spar came to an end, both Goten and Bulla were breathing heavily, their bodies covered in sweat. They stood facing each other, their gazes locked, a mutual respect and admiration shining in their eyes.
"That was incredible, Bulla," Goten said, a genuine smile on his face. "Hard to believe you’ve only been doing this a year.”
She panted as she beamed back at him. “Trying to make up for lost time,” she admitted.
Goten wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking back at Bulla. "You know, I think you're ready to start working on the Super Saiyan technique," he said, his voice full of confidence.
"Oh?" she asked, her tone disbelieving. "Are we really going to finally practice what you promised?"
"Patience Bulla, you act like you aren't working with a professional. I know what I'm doing."
"You sure about that?"
Goten nodded with a wry chuckle. "Yeah, I'm sure. But before we get started, I want you to observe me in my Super Saiyan form. Watch how I channel my energy and control my ki. It'll give you an idea of what you need to do."
He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes before unleashing a channeled yell to power up. Goten demonstrated his mastered ability, his aura flaring up and his features changing as he tapped into his strength. The ever-familiar golden light surrounding him and his hair spiking up. Bulla watched in awe, taking in every detail of his transformation. She could see the immense power radiating from him, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement.
"Wow Goten," Bulla exclaimed, her voice filled with awe. "You make it look so effortless.”
Goten grinned, enjoying the praise. "Thanks, Bulla. It's taken me a while to master this form, but I'm pretty comfortable now."
Bulla couldn't help but notice how handsome the other hybrid looked with his spiky golden hair and intense green eyes. She felt a flutter in her chest, her cheeks tinted with a light blush. She had always found Goten attractive but seeing him as a Super Saiyan made her heart skip a beat.
Goten noticed Bulla's reaction and his grin widened, deciding to have some fun. "You like what you see?" he teased, waggling his eyebrows playfully.
Bulla rolled her eyes, trying to hide her embarrassment. "Don't get cocky, Goten. It's just impressive to see your power in action."
Goten chuckled, the sound making Bulla's heart skip another beat. He then became serious and asked, "So, tell me…what usually happens when you turn Super Saiyan? Do you have any control over it?"
Bulla looked away, feeling a bit self-conscious. "Not yet. It's not something I can control like you can. It usually happens based on my emotions."
Goten nodded in understanding. "Emotions can be a powerful trigger for the Super Saiyan transformation. What typically sparks it for you?"
Bulla bit her lip, hesitating for a moment before answering.
"Well, it's usually anger or frustration. But it's not something I can activate on my own. It just happens when I'm really worked up."
Her face lowered, disappointed in her lack of finesse and discipline. Goten's expression softened at her displeasure, and he reached out to place a comforting hand on Bulla's shoulder. "I understand. It can be tough when you're not in control of your own power."
Bulla looked up at him, grateful for his understanding. "Yeah, it can be. But I'll keep trying."
Goten smiled reassuringly. "I believe in you, Bulla. I'm sure you'll master it in no time."
Bulla felt a heat spread through her chest at Goten's encouragement. She glanced at him, and for a moment, their eyes locked. When his eyes were in their green state, they had an extra air of intensity—especially when they focused in on her. Bulla found herself drawn to him, and though she couldn’t know for sure, she sensed that he felt something for her too.
"I have an idea," Goten suddenly said, breaking the silence. "Why don't you try tapping into a specific emotion or memory that makes you angry or bothered? It might help you activate the Super Saiyan form even when you're not feeling that way."
Bulla considered Goten's suggestion, nodding slowly. "That's actually a good idea. I'll give it a try."
She stood back from her companion, momentarily emptying her mind in order to focus.
What made her the angriest?
Though she was frustrated by whatever hold Valese had on Goten, anger didn’t seem to be the right emotion for that. It wasn’t like she wanted to punch her (okay, maybe a little nudge – she acknowledged to herself) and in her brief encounters with the woman, she was pleasant enough.
Being in the shadow of her family was also irritating, but she wasn’t mad with them for it either, if anything it was disappointment with herself for feeling that way.
Her eyes drifted towards the sweet Son once more, the man that she so admired. He was silently cheering her on in his own way, waiting for her to show what she could do. Goten’s smile was enough to make her melt into a puddle where she stood. His kind heart, the way he looked at her as if no one else was around—she never batted an eyelash at anyone else.
And suddenly, something shifted.
For the princess, the gold standard was and always would be Goten. She never set out to lock eyes only on him, but Bulla couldn’t help it. How could she ever want another person when he looked at her that way? When others looked at her in a much different way.
In her younger teenage years, boys her age would call her a prude or a tease because she didn’t sleep around. At that point, the heiress resigned herself to waiting for Goten, so Bulla wasn’t as bothered by those comments, nor those boys. It was nothing compared to her teachers that ogled her from high above to catch a glimpse of her cleavage. Or the men that would catcall her on the way home from school, the mall; wherever she went, her beauty seemed to bring her more misfortune than joy.
She could break any human in half if she wanted to, but she rarely wanted to. Except in those moments when she’d be pressed on in a crowd, inconspicuously enough for the perpetrators in question, to rub against her side. Those were the moments where instead of punching someone, she’d take off with inhuman speed to get away; it never mattered where she would go, anywhere that wasn’t there.
All she would ever be to them—to so many others—was a ticket. An object. A fantasy.
No one ever really saw her, the real her. No one, except him.
Bulla closed her eyes, her fists clenched in anger as memories of past encounters with lewd and disrespectful men flooded her mind. The memories of feeling objectified and degraded, like a mere piece of meat, fueled her resolve. She could feel her blood boiling, her aura crackling with energy. Golden sparks danced around her as her normally blue aura flickered with a bright yellow hue. Bulla tapped into her power, briefly transforming into a Super Saiyan, her hair standing on end and her eyes blazing with determination.
Goten's eyes widened in amazement as he watched Bulla's transformation. He had never seen her face while in Super Saiyan form, only catching a glimpse of her backside when they were in the gravity room. The half-Saiyan felt his heartbeat increase, in awe of her strength and beauty. As stunning as she was in the new coloring, he couldn’t help but miss her bluish features.
The gilded version of her remained for a few moments more, until the sparks started to fade. As Bulla returned to her normal state, Goten couldn't contain his curiosity. "What did you think about, Bulla?" he wondered.
Bulla blushed, feeling vulnerable and a bit unsure about revealing her sentiments. "Um, well...this is a bit awkward to say, but I guess I thought about when I’ve been objectified by others," she admitted softly. "I usually feel helpless and angry in those situations."
“In what way?” Goten’s tone sank, hoping it wasn’t as he was imagining.
“Well,” Bulla started off again, “like…inappropriate comments about my body. Just random remarks that have been shouted at me in this past.”
Goten's eyes darkened with anger as he clenched his fists. "Who tells you that?" he asked, his voice low and intense.
The heiress hesitated, not wanting to work him up over things. "It's usually just strangers passing by. It's not a big deal."
But Goten's ki flared, and he looked ready to confront these faceless strangers from her past. He took a deep breath wanting to apologize on behalf of the worst parts of his gender, as well as the worst parts of himself. "Bulla, you don't deserve to be treated that way. Most men are pigs and not worth your time."
Bulla blushed, touched by Goten's protective nature. She looked down, feeling a temperateness in her chest. "You're not like most men, Goten," she murmured softly.
Goten looked away, conflicted by his own feelings. He had been secretly attracted to Bulla for a while now, and the thought of her being objectified made him furious. Goten yearned to protect her and make her feel respected. However, here he was, simultaneously desiring the bluette while trying to safeguard her; wanting her in a way that was unbecoming. The princess had a purity that went far beyond physical, and he by contrast felt tainted by his own recklessness over the years. The guilt weighed heavily on his shoulders.
She thought so highly of him, and yet, he was like the rest of them.
"I'm no better, Bulla," he said quietly, but earnestly.
Bulla looked up at him, her blue eyes filled with sincerity. "No one is perfect, Goten," she said gently. "But I've never doubted your good heart."
Goten's heart swelled with emotion at her words. He reached out and smoothly brushed her arm, his contact sending a tremble down Bulla's vertebrae. "Thank you, B-Chan," he said softly. "I'll always do my best to be someone you can rely on."
Bulla blushed, leaning into his touch, and they stood there, lost in each other's eyes. The friction between them was tangible, and both were well aware of the growing attraction they had for each other. In that moment, Bulla felt empowered and valued, and Goten felt a deep sense of admiration and protectiveness towards her.
For the second time in a week, he pulled her in for a hug, almost hoping some of her purity would cleanse him by doing so.
-=-=-=-
A few weeks later…
“Your father will kill me.”
“What have I told you before? What daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him…”
“Bulla, this is serious.”
“I know! I’m taking it seriously.”
Goten rolled his eyes at the excited eighteen-year-old before him pressing her hands together in a begging motion. It was the fourth or fifth training session in their Super Saiyan lesson plan and Bulla was improving; feeling more comfortable with ki control, the princess was keen to learn even more. She started to pout her full lips and Goten fondly remembered how they felt on his own. He dared not to ogle too long with his gaze, so he put his hands behind his head and looked upwards.
“He’ll definitely know you’ve been training elsewhere if we do,” he cautioned.
The bluette shook her head, unafraid of the consequences. “I don’t care,” she began, “this is one of the main reasons I wanted to train with you.”
“You mean it wasn’t just about our quality time together?” the dark-haired demi-Saiyan kidded, pretending to be pained.
“Sorry Goten,” the princess leaned in close, “I’m only using you to learn the Kamehameha Wave.”
Goten pulled her hand to his torso. “Right through the chest, B-Chan—you’re breaking my heart!”
She suppressed a snort, attempting to hide her nervousness at touching his incredibly sturdy pecs. “So dramatic, Son Ten.”
They both remained a bit too long in that position before Goten released her hand. “As I’ve told you before,” he continued, “your father is of the few men I genuinely fear. And you should be scared too! Learning the Son signature move. He’ll be appalled.”
“He’ll get over it.”
Goten could tell she was all too confident in her ability to placate her father. “You sure he won’t be more like this?”
He glowered like the Saiyan Prince, lowering his voice to utter in his best impression. “Bulla, how dare you lower yourself to that third-class rubbish.”
“That’s not too bad,” she chuckled. “Although, you really have to start in the throat,” Bulla advised clearing her pharynx.
Oh, this he had to hear.
“Bulla! Do not sully yourself with those clowns.”
Goten busted out laughing. “Holy shit,” he had to control his volume, “that’s spot on.”
“What can I say? I’m my father’s daughter,” Bulla stated proudly. Goten continued to chuckle in response.
“You certainly are,” he agreed with a grin. The dark-eyed man changed the subject. “Fine, I suppose we can work on the blast but if he finds out, tell him it was my dad who taught you.”
Bulla had to quell her obvious excitement. “Oh Goten, thank you!” she exclaimed clapping. She hopped over to the field, eager to start.
Moments like this strike a chord. Goten was always aware of her innocent nature, but seeing her happy in that way made it extra apparent. It was how she was years ago, as a bright-eyed child who looked at Goten like he could do no wrong. Though it stalled him, he couldn’t feel a bit guilty about the thoughts he had been having. Even with his best efforts to keep those sensations to himself, they lingered in his gut like a heavy meal.
“C’mon Goten!”
Her eagerness evident, Goten chuckled at her summoning of him. “Alright your highness, calm down.”
The giant smile on her face didn’t mind his chastising. “Can you tell I’m excited?”
“Only a little,” he answered with a wink, causing her grin to double in size. “You seem pretty proficient with the Galick Gun, no surprise considering it’s Vegeta pride and joy.”
“Yeah, that has been the main one I’ve focused on. Part of why I want to learn more energy blasts.”
“Nothing wrong with a signature move,” Goten said forming a tiny ball of light blue ki in his hand. “Although if I do say so, this one is more your color.”
“Funny, I always thought red was my color.”
“You pull off multiple ones, but blue is the one that comes to mind when I think of you.”
When he thinks of her.
Bulla turned the same shade of her previously thought signature color. The idea of occupying Goten’s thoughts caused a giddiness that was hard to hide. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she spoke softly.
The ki blast in Goten’s hand increased in size as he prompted Bulla to watch. “You’ll likely need two hands to create the wave, but I’ve been able to do it one-handed for a while.”
“So humble, Son Ten.”
“Hah, you’ll be doing the same soon enough.”
She leaned in to observe the sheer control Goten possessed over his energy. It was remarkable restraint, something that Bulla knew she could improve on even with the blasts she was familiar with.
“Remember our first lesson? Make sure your breathing is steady and mind empty,” Goten instructed, a larger ball forming in his hand. Bulla nodded in understanding.
He then lifted his palm to face an open stretch of field, Bulla’s steel gaze focused on him still. Goten’s hand glowed with greater intensity as the ki blast grew. The older demi-Saiyan recited the name, as he had so many times before, unleashing the wave in front of him. The beam demolished a rock formation at the end of the meadow and kept going into the empty distance. Goten turned to his companion.
“Come here, B—”
She followed as instructed, standing next to Goten, his tall frame dwarfing hers. “Begin how you would for any other blast but be intentional with it—picture the color and the feel that you just saw me do,” he said.
Bulla’s hands glowed as her palms pressed together. The blast was in its infancy, still a tiny light yet to show any color.
“Here,” Goten offered, draping his muscular arms around her from behind. Her breath hitched in her throat, unable to speak. As Goten pressed against her, he cupped his two hands outside of her own. He offered up his own energy, bluing the white beam Bulla was forming. “Just remember this feeling,” he coached, “the lightness of it.”
There was no way she would be forgetting this.
“Concentrate,” Goten urged gently into her ear. Goosebumps tickled her neck as Bulla attempted to regain focus.
“I’m getting a tingly feeling,” she confessed, suggesting two things at once.
He gave a small laugh. “That’s normal,” he insisted pressing closer to her palms. “Use that to channel the blast forward—say it with me.”
“Ka—” Bulla began a little unsure but found her footing, “me—”
“Ha—” Goten joined in, “me—”
“HA!” they shouted in unison releasing a joint blast. This beam blew up the rubble for the recently dismantled rock formation. The smoke from other end of the field rose into the sky as Bulla’s eyes widened. She turned towards Goten, who still had his arms to either side of her. Without warning, she jumped up in joy, wrapping her own arms around his neck.
“Did you see that!?” Bulla squealed, squeezing tightly as he twirled her free.
“See? You’re a natural,” he stated proudly. She was still close enough to him where he could feel the heat from her body emanating.
“Dad is going to be so pissed!” Bulla exclaimed in a happy tone. Only the daughter of a reformed madman could find joy in irritating him so.
Goten laughed awkwardly. “Bulla, you’ll have to teach me to be as fearless as you,” he said quite seriously.
-=-=-=-
A couple hours later, and many ki blasts afterwards, the two demi-Saiyans fell onto the soft meadow beneath their feet. They lazed about in the grassy knoll, contently gazing at fluffy clouds overhead. The sparring session that took place after Bulla learned the Kamehameha wave depleted them both and the rest was much needed. Bulla turned her head towards Goten’s languid form, blushing as she realized he was still shirtless from the training. This was the second time in weeks he went topless, and she prayed that he wouldn’t notice she was gawping at him.
Not that she had any complaints…
“Look at that one!” Goten pointed his finger towards the sky, breaking her daydream. He found a rather odd-shaped specimen that Bulla had trouble identifying.
“What about it?” she pondered.
“Tell me that doesn’t look like Hercule with the mustache and everything!”
Bulla squinted until she finally started to make out a familiar handlebar shape. Laughter bubbled out of her immediately when it clicked. “Oh my gosh,” she chuckled, “it totally does.”
Goten’s laugh joined hers and he placed both his arms behind his head. A hint of pride at making the princess laugh. He breathed out a contented sigh. “This is nice,” he said softly.
The heiress bashfully glanced his way. “It is,” she agreed with a smile that Goten returned.
“I actually used to do this all the time with Gohan when we were younger,” the older half-Saiyan divulged, resuming his gaze above.
“Really?” Bulla inquired with genuine interest. The thought of a young Goten curled up next to his kind (and equally handsome) brother made her radiate. They had such a caring bond.
“Yeah,” Goten continued, “until he got tied up with his own family, of course. But those memories have always stayed with me.”
There wasn’t a hint of malice in those words, nor regret. Bulla could tell Goten was just grateful for the time together and that melted her heart.
“You know,” Bulla started off, “I’ve always admired how close your family is to each other.”
“Oh?”
The princess nodded. “The affection between all of you is so evident,” Bulla continued, “anytime I was over as a kid for family events or visiting Pan, I instantly felt the love the second I walked in.”
Goten sensed a deep sort of tenderness formulating in his stomach. His family didn’t have much, but they had each other and that was always enough. What they lacked in monetary means, they made up for in love. Even though it was far from a perfect scenario, especially with his father being absent on and off, Goten felt lucky to be part of it.
“Thanks Bulla,” he softly acknowledged. Bulla gleamed.
“It’s the truth,” she replied, her eyes looking downwards. “I kind of wished my own family could be like that sometimes,” the Saiyan Princess confessed.
Goten raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he asked, inquisitively. Though he knew that while Vegeta was a lost cause when it came to showing emotion, he always saw Bulma and Trunks as more affectionate.
“I mean don’t get me wrong,” Bulla continued, “I love them to pieces, but it’s like Trunks will only hug me when no one else is around. Mom gets so distracted with the business I hardly see her. Dad would rather eat a shoe than ever admit his feelings to any of us.”
He contemplated her musings, and recognized she had a point. It reminded him though of a moment from his childhood. “Did you know your dad never hugged Trunks until the battle with Majin Buu?” Goten quizzed.
That caught the bluette’s attention. “Trunks never told me that,” Bulla disclosed.
“Amongst other things I’m sure,” Goten grinned at her. His expression sobered briefly. “It was right before Vegeta sacrificed himself. Of course, he was covertly trying to knock Trunks and myself out so we couldn’t try to stop him, so there’s that. But before he did, your dad told Trunks that he had never hugged him and wanted to. Can you imagine? Eight years without a hug. When I saw the look on Trunks’ face you could tell it meant the world.”
Bulla couldn’t help but moue, face wrinkling. Though her brother’s exterior was tough, she could imagine how strange that must have been for him as a child.
“Dad’s never had a problem hugging me,” she recognized softly, “granted I’m usually hugging him and not the other way around, but still.”
“Maybe that’s because you’re his little princess,” Goten teased.
“Could be, if that’s the case Trunks never stood a chance,” she jested back, causing Goten to laugh. His face grew serious, but the tone was still pleasant.
"Your father loves you deeply, Bulla. Even if his manner of showing it is strange."
This moved Bulla as she gave a small bob in agreement, a hint of a smile on her face. "You're right; I'm grateful for that at least," she replied. "But sometimes, I just wish he could be a little more...open, you know? Like your family."
"I get it," he said, nodding. "Everyone has their own way of showing their love. Maybe your dad just needs some time to figure out his own way."
Bulla pondered this for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I guess you're right," she said, a thoughtful look on her face. "Thanks, Goten."
He smiled at her, the late afternoon sun illuminating her features so nicely. Goten almost didn’t want to tear himself away but, as he found himself doing on far too many occasions, he was beginning to stare. His palms rested against the back of his head as he lowered his upper body once more to the grass. Breathing in deeply, he changed the subject.
“Say Bulla,” Goten started off, “I don’t think I’ve asked you what your plans are after school.”
“I finished already,” Bulla answered, “haven’t attended high school in years.”
“I knew you finished high school silly, but what about college? Weren’t you getting another degree?”
“That too. My Ph.D. program finished up a few months ago.”
His face perked up, impressed. “All that by eighteen,” Goten spoke quietly, “you’re something else, Bulla.”
“Hardly,” the heiress attempted to deny, though his praise brought a smirk to her face.
“Guess what I was doing at eighteen?” Goten turned over with a sheepish grin. “Your brother and I were studying girls’ phone numbers and skipping university to go train. I think that semester I showed up to maybe five classes, tops.”
“That explains a lot.”
The elder halfling whistled in faux pain. “That stings, Bulla—so stunning and yet so cruel.”
She flushed at his half-compliment. The Saiyan Princess considered Goten’s teasing tone and almost wondered if this was his attempt at flirting. Bulla convinced herself it was just her imagination playing tricks on her, much like the dark of the moon the night of their kiss.
“The question still stands,” Goten resumed, “now that you’re done with all of your additional schooling, what’s the plan?”
Bulla tumbled back onto the grass, staring up at the sky. She hated that question, even if she adored the person asking her. It seemed that everyone had this innate desire to pick her brain apart to gain answers she wasn’t even fully sure of herself. Her lack of response prompted Goten to sit up and stare her way.
“B-Chan?” he inquired gently. The younger hybrid inhaled through her nose, keeping her attention upwards.
“Do you ever feel like second best?” she wondered aloud.
The comment caught Goten off guard. “In what way?” he asked.
Bulla exhaled a long sigh, focusing on a cloud that ironically looked like Capsule Corporation. “My whole life I’ve had my genius mother and my golden child brother do great things with their careers,” the princess lamented, “and not to be outdone, Dad’s the second strongest fighter in the universe, plus a Saiyan prince to boot. All of them have made a name for themselves in their own way. What could I possibly do with my life to ever compete with that?”
Goten looked at her, his heart sinking, knowing the exact feeling she was talking about. The curse of the second born—it was a tale he knew by memory.
“I do actually.”
“Really?”
“Sure,” Goten confirmed. “Try having the strongest fighter in the universe as your father and your brother as both the genius and golden child,” he attempted to tease, but there was an air of truth to his words.
Bulla’s face widened. “So, you understand…” she stated, turning her head towards him.
“More than you know, Bulla,” Goten responded. His eyes met hers and the young woman’s heart stopped, seeing a twinge of pain glossing over them. “You said it yourself; my family is very affectionate,” he continued, “but sometimes that affection would be reserved for Gohan exclusively.”
He felt a bit of guilt when he said that, as true as those words were. Goten adored his older brother, but he was all too used to living in his shadow.
“Mom probably did that more often, even though she probably never realized it. She’d absolutely feel guilty if she ever knew how it looked, but still. Dad would always try to be partial, however, I lost out of seven years with the guy the first part of my life. No matter how well we got along after that, it was undeniable. He had a history with Gohan and my mom that he never had with me. I can’t blame him for that, but it definitely made it harder.”
The bluette observed with curious attention how Goten’s face contorted as he spoke. The exact disappointments she underwent the other hybrid was saying aloud. Her stomach dropped understanding the quiet pain of going through that similar experience.
“I’m sorry,” Bulla simply said.
He smiled at her concern. “Not your fault, B-Chan, besides…you get it.”
“Still,” she continued, “that had to have been difficult.”
“It could be at times,” Goten resumed, feeling more comfortable discussing the topic with someone who knew what it was like. “While I know in my heart that they would do anything for me, I didn’t always see it that way,” the older hybrid added, “probably why I was over Capsule Corp. so much—I always felt seen with your family. For better or worse.”
Bulla’s mind reminisced just how centralized of a figure Goten was in her life. Surely, the friendship he had with her brother was the main reason, but memory reminded her that Bulma took a great interest in Goten, supporting him in financial and other ways. Even her father, for all his denial about liking the Son boy, taught Goten a lot about fighting over the years. He also served as another disciplinarian and brought down the hammer whenever Trunks and Goten got into their monkey business. With Goku gone the first years of Goten’s life, Vegeta was nearly a surrogate father to the man.
And then there was her—
She adored Goten from the minute she could understand who he was to their family. Another brother, another friend…one that she would relentlessly play with, and he catered to her every whim. Well, almost every whim. Teenage propositions aside, she thought amused.
As the princess observed his face deep in thought, she hoped that maybe her attention towards him in her younger days brought some amount of comfort.
“Just so you know,” Bulla spoke gently, “having you around all the time was the best.”
“You’re only saying that because I let you put makeup on my face.”
“No, that just made you pretty,” she teased laughing, pinching his cheek as he batted her hands away. Bulla let out a contented sigh. “You always made me feel seen, too.”
Goten studied the soft curves of her face, marveling at how immaculate the gods formed the princess to be. How seamlessly striking and yet, sometimes, she had no idea. Though it was far more than just her beauty that captivated him—her thoughtfulness and sweet disposition, her genuine interest in others and easy-going nature. Even her direct way of speaking brought him fond memories of her whole family and their somewhat brash manner. Her approach, though it could still be a bit forceful and spoiled at times, was far and away the most congenial of the four. His chest warmed at her comment and how much he admired her openness with him.
“It’s impossible not to see you, Bulla.”
Goten knew his words held a double meaning. He had whispered his response so quietly that Bulla wasn’t quite sure about everything he said, but the fashion in which he spoke caught her attention. The older halfling turned to look her squarely in the eye.
“If it’s any consolation,” he murmured, “I think you’ll make your mark in a way that none of your family ever could.”
Her bright, cerulean eyes glistened. “Goten,” she began softly before he interjected.
“I’ve never seen anyone command such devotion from people, not even your mother. She’s brilliant, but I’ve listened to you ramble on about quantum physics. You’re on another level altogether, B-Chan,” he teased, prompting a quiet chuckle from the heiress. “Trunks is great, but he fell into the corporate thing and the firstborn role. Could have just as easily been you,” Goten continued, “and don’t tell Vegeta this, but your strength doesn’t always just come from here—”
He gestured towards her bicep before meeting her gaze once more.
“—it comes from here.”
His finger gently swept near her heart, Bulla’s eyes focusing in. Blushing furiously, she dared to look at the soft expression on Goten’s face. She could tell he meant every word.
“You care about people,” the hybrid man whispered, “you see the good in them even when they don’t see it themselves. Did you ever wonder what finally brought the mighty Saiyan prince to his knees after years of denying his feelings? Some say he softened after the fight with Majin Buu, but I saw it clear as day; the second you were born something shifted in him for good. Not even my own father could compel him to do that.”
Bulla didn’t have a chance to answer.
“It’s hard to see in your shoes, probably like how it’s hard for me to see it myself,” Goten resumed, “but you’re stronger than anyone I know. Your spirit is unbreakable, and you bravely wear your heart on your sleeve. I envy that so much.”
“Goten…” the blue-haired woman uttered lightly, stalled by his admittance.
“The universe has yet to see everything you are capable of, Bulla Briefs.”
A short wave of silence befell them both, until the halfling felt his body encased in a mighty grip by his younger companion. She buried her face in his uncovered chest and heaved heavily to prevent a cry from emerging. Though surprised at first, Goten slowly returned the embrace, placing his head over her shoulder. A familiar waft of her coconut shampoo stung his nostrils, and he took in her scent.
Feeling her against his skin felt unlike anything he experienced before. They had embraced many times over the years, but this was different. The suppleness of her cheek warmed him, and he found it was hard to let go.
Likewise, Bulla couldn’t help but be attracted to his strong arms around her, face pressed against the perfectly molded torso he possessed. She had often daydreamed about Goten holding her in this way, granted he was a lot more naked in those daydreams, as was she.
“Bulla—”
He whispered her name so sweetly; she couldn’t help but look up at him staring down with those gorgeous dark eyes. A breath caught in her throat, wanting nothing more than a chance to release it but she was paralyzed.
If only he knew the effect he had on her…
Their reverie was broken with the ring of his phone nearby. They pulled away from each other reluctantly. Bulla worried it was Valese attempting to reach out again but soon saw Chi-Chi’s face flash across the cell and felt a sense of relief. “Hang on, gotta take this!” Goten said, springing into action. The younger demi-Saiyan thought amusingly how much more urgent he was to answer his mother than his ex.
“Hey Mom! Yes, yes—still planning to come to Sunday dinner. I’m just finishing up my appointment.”
Bulla’s face beamed at the Son’s Sunday family dinner. Without fail, every week they got together and congregated over a delicious meal by Chi-Chi. Bulla’s stomach growled at the thought and she put her hand over her face in embarrassment. Goten turned his head and looked at her, prompting her gaze to align with his own.
“One sec, Mom—” Goten placed his hand over the speaker, “Bulla, do you have dinner plans?”
The question surprised her, but she shook her head. “Likely takeout on my way back,” the princess stated. Goten immediately waved his hand in disapproval.
“Nonsense, you should join us for dinner. Much better than some lousy takeout,” he insisted. The woman’s face burned at his contention.
“If it’s not an imposition…”
“Not at all, Mom will be thrilled!” Goten insisted, removing his hand from the speaker.
“Hey Ma—can you set an extra plate? I’m bringing Bulla with me.” Beat. “Yes, Bulla Briefs.” Beat. “Mom—calm down, you don’t need to use the fancy chinaware; she eats off regular dinnerware I promise you.”
Bulla felt her cheeks blushing in amusement as she turned from her companion.
“Okay, we’ll see you soon. Love you.”
Goten hung up his phone and put it into his pocket. He chuckled wittily at his mother’s antics. “It’s like the monarchy is coming over,” the half-Saiyan teased, “she was excited you were coming but man, didn’t expect that.”
Bulla tossed her hair and curtseyed. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten you’re in the presence of royalty, Third-Class,” she said smirking.
He crunched his nose. “A royal pain,” Goten bemoaned jokingly, ruffling Bulla’s hair, which prompted a firm smack from the heiress.
“Guess who won’t be getting my spare capsule?” she said, nose in the air. With a toss of her own capsule, a cozy house appeared, complete with a shower and change of clothes. Goten wasn’t bothered by this though.
“There’s a stream nearby; I’ll be just fine, Your Highness.”
“Ew, no soap?”
Bulla’s nose scrunched at his expense. You could take the boy out of the mountains but clearly, not the mountains out of the boy.
He scoffed, indignant. “Hey, I use soap!” Goten insisted. She crossed her arms questioningly, eyebrow raised in doubt. The ebony-haired man rubbed the back of his head, realizing his bluff was called. “I mean, I use soap…when I have it,” he assured.
“…and do you have soap?”
“I do.”
“You do?”
“…at home.”
Bulla laughed, shaking her head. “You’re hopeless Goten,” she said teasingly.
Goten grinned, taking the joke in stride. “Alright, Your Highness, I’ll leave to go clean up in the stream like a barbarian,” he said, saluting mockingly before heading towards the brook.
“Wait.”
The half-Saiyan turned as she tossed him a small capsule. “That should have some basic toiletries at least,” Bulla grinned as she turned towards the house and the shower. She looked back once more. “Need any clothes too?”
Goten’s head swung back and forth. “Nah, got those in my bag,” he confirmed, “but thanks for looking out for this third-class savage.”
Bulla rolled her eyes, but her lips curled up in a smile. "Just don't forget to scrub behind your ears," she called after him as he made his way to the creek.
Goten chuckled and shook his head, grateful for his friend's humor and generosity. As he approached the cool, clear water, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him. The mountains had always been his sanctuary, and the sound of the rushing water and rustling leaves brought back fond memories of his childhood.
He quickly undressed, making sure to be mindful of any potential critters, and waded into the stream. The chilly water was a shock to his system, but he quickly adjusted. After going under, he stood up; the shallow stream only coming up to his thighs. Goten began to wash away the dirt and grime from his training. Mindful to start with his ears, he thought humorously, per the heiress’ instructions.
In the distance inside the capsule house, Bulla undressed for her own shower, turning on the hot water to its maximum strength. As she waited for the water to warm up before stepping in, she couldn't help but look through the blinds of the bathroom window at the beautiful field and mountains outside. One thing in particular caught her eye however and what she saw stopped her in her tracks.
Goten's naked form she could see in perfect view from the window. She blinked twice to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.
Holy shit.
Her face turned white when she realized it wasn’t a hallucination. As he bathed, the water droplets clung to his frame accentuating every dip and muscle. His chiseled body could rival a Grecian God, carved like marble and alabaster. Flawless. Pristine. Inviting.
Bulla quickly tried to focus on something else. She couldn't look at him like that!
And yet—the bluette could barely bring herself to tear her eyes from the window as she lecherously observed the naked man just a short distance away. He seemed almost purposely positioned backwards, his bare behind just ripe for viewing. Her core trembled at the sight. That was a man’s ass.
Goten's toned muscles glistened in the dimming sunlight as he moved about in the stream, completely oblivious to Bulla's unintentional voyeurism. As he scrubbed down his chest and arms, Goten lowered the bar of soap in his hands towards his backside and Bulla nearly died.
“Bulla, you pervert,” the hybrid thought to herself.
Bulla shook her head, trying to clear her mind of any impure thoughts. She quickly averted her gaze and closed the blinds, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She scolded herself for indulging in such behavior. Wasn’t she just saying weeks ago how much she hated being objectified? She was a princess for pity’s sake and needed to act with dignity.
Immediately, she left the window in a huff and changed the direction of the water temperature from hot to cold in order to placate her raging hormones.
The last thing Bulla Briefs needed was to be horny during a visit to the object of her desires family’s house.
In front of his mother.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 4 and mooooore to come. But yay for Goten/Bulla bonding! Nay for Trunks being Trunks! LOL this was definitely a heavy B/G chapter, I’m a little spent from having to describe sparring a few different times, but it was important, so I hope everyone enjoyed!
Chapter 5: Our heroic twosome enjoy a meal at the Son household, Marron struggles with Trunks’ emotional immaturity, Bulla confides in a friend, and an intimate moment is interrupted by an inopportune extraterrestrial visit.
Get ready…we’re slowly getting to where the fun gets funner.
-SonChan
Chapter 6: Chapter 5: Pendulum
Summary:
Chapter 5: Our heroic twosome enjoy a meal at the Son household, Marron struggles with Trunks’ emotional immaturity, Bulla confides in a friend, and an intimate moment is interrupted by an inopportune extraterrestrial visit.
Notes:
Disclaimers: As always, I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the concept of Planet Souljin and some future characters, OC’s are mine. Also, going off original age differences from the guidebooks, as mentioned earlier.
Author’s Note: You all sure know how to make a gal feel so loved! I started re-reading fanfiction earlier this year when I was going through a tough time and needed some comfort. To think that months later, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time, all thanks to the lovely support of fellow fans and a TV show that’s meant so much to me over the years. I highly recommend rediscovering your passions, even if you think you’ve outgrown them. Any type of joy you experience is good joy.
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Pendulum, Splintered
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 5: Pendulum
“I feel weird.”
Goten blinked at Bulla’s comment as they approached his childhood home after flying from the training fields. Both were cleaned and changed into appropriate dinner attire, and Goten took note that Bulla had put on a navy-blue sweater, which brought a smile to his face. “Weird how so?” he wondered.
Bulla extended her hands. “I have no dish or gift to bring!” she said full of pragmatism and respect.
The elder half-Saiyan chuckled at her manners. “Oh please, this was a last-minute invite. Even if it wasn’t, my mother would never expect anything,” he assured her.
“I know I just…” Bulla trailed off. I just want them to like me.
“My family adores you, Bulla. As flattering as bribery is, you don’t need to butter them up with any meals or presents.”
It was as if he read her mind. The princess flushed at Goten’s uncanny ability to comprehend her so well. “You psychic or something, Son Ten?” Bulla joshed.
She was caught off guard as he grabbed either side of her, giving the heiress a confident smirk. “Maybe,” Goten began placing two of his fingers to Bulla’s temple. He looked to be deep in thought, as if he was scanning her brain. “Hmm,” he began again, “this is interesting.”
Bulla decided to play along with the big goof in front of her. “Alright Seer Goten—what’s on my mind?” the younger woman questioned. She felt Goten’s fingers move from her temple to tuck some loose strands behind her hair, surprising Bulla with the intimate gesture. He beamed at her.
“Well B-Chan, you’re wondering just how lucky you are to be having dinner with the hottest guy you know.”
Oh, he was really pushing his luck. Bulla rolled her eyes. Two could play that game.
“Yes—” she admitted batting her eyelashes, much to his delight. She lowered her voice. “But don’t tell your brother, he’s a married man,” Bulla whispered with a wink.
Goten’s face immediately balked. “Wait…what?!”
Her cerulean orbs twinkled mischievously, relishing in the absolute terror her comment caused the other hybrid. “Kidding,” she laughed tapping his arm.
It took Goten a second to register her words, still skeptical at how quickly she responded with that answer. Eventually, Bulla’s smile convinced him. A sigh of relief uttered from his lips that turned into a quiet laugh. “Had me there for a second,” the older demi-Saiyan retorted.
He felt Bulla’s dainty finger poke him in the chest. “Just teaching you a valuable lesson in modesty, Goten,” she added flicking upwards into the air.
“Thank you for keeping me humble, Princess.”
She smirked with glee. “That’s what I’m here for,” Bulla stated as they approached the doorway. As Goten reached for the door, she couldn’t resist teasing him one last time.
“Besides, we both know that distinction belongs your father…”
“FOR THE LOVE OF KAMI, STOP.”
…
“Goku, you better not be stealing any food before dinner!”
Chi-Chi’s voice bellowed in the kitchen prompting Goku to immediately release the bite-sized bun in his hand. “Chi-Chiiiiii—I’m starvin’ though,” he whined to his wife.
“You will just have to WAIT until our guests arrive!” she shouted concentrating on the stove in front of her, facing away from her husband.
Gohan, slicing some vegetables, chuckled as his father groaned in defeat. “Smooth, Dad,” he said, carefully making precision cuts to the food in front of him. As his father unleashed another sigh, Gohan covertly slid a radish towards him. Goku’s signature grin sprouted as he quickly stuffed it in his mouth before Chi-Chi turned around.
“Goku!”
He turned to Chi-Chi, cheeks full, with her tapping her foot. Earth’s greatest fighter swallowed harshly, knowing he was about to lose whatever battle was up next. Until, by his great fortune, he was saved by the front door opening.
“Hey, we’re here!” Goten said upon their arrival. He briefly grazed Bulla’s waist as he ushered her into the household. The home smelled phenomenal, the heiress thought, her mouth nearly watering just from the aroma alone.
“Heya Goten! Bulla!” Goku waved happily.
“Oh, my baby boy!” Chi-Chi rushed over to embrace her younger son, a smattering of kisses on his cheek; although it caught him by surprise and Bulla by delight to see the outward affection.
“Mooooom,” Goten bellyached, flushing, “c’mon, not in front of company.”
Chi-Chi’s attention immediately turned to the blue-haired princess beside him. Bulla politely bowed in front of the Son matriarch. “Hi Chi-Chi, thanks so much for including me tonight!” she exclaimed.
“Bulla, we are delighted you are here!” Chi-Chi said embracing the Briefs daughter like one of her own. “Such a pleasant surprise when Goten said you’d be coming.”
“Well, it was the least I could,” Goten said brushing Bulla’s backside, “felt rude to talk about family dinner in front of her and not offer any!”
Beet red from his touch, Bulla attempted to hold her composure before Goten removed his hand as quickly as he had placed it. She caught Gohan’s gaze for a split second, who seemed to notice the interaction.
“Great to see you, Bulla,” he said kindly, his attention back to the vegetables in front him. As he chopped, he cleared his throat. “What have you and Goten been up to today?”
“Oh we…” Bulla nervously looked at Goten, not sure how to explain the coverup for their secret training. Without missing a beat, the older hybrid answered.
“Hello to you too, Gohan,” he said coming over and patting his brother’s back. Hoping the attention on him would distract the eldest halfling, Goten stole a bite of a freshly cut carrot like a true Son. Gohan lightly elbowed his sibling’s side.
“You’re worse than Dad,” Gohan claimed, both his and Goten’s attention turning towards their father attempting to steal another hot bun while Chi-Chi was distracted speaking to Bulla as Videl joined in.
Goten laughed. “Doubt that,” he said with another pat.
“Bulla?!”
Pan came down the stairs, surprised to see her best friend arrive with her uncle for family dinner. Bulla endeavored to maintain her cool demeanor. “Hi Pan!” the bluette answered happily.
“Hey squirt,” Goten said pulling her into a quick noogie. His niece immediately pushed him away and punched his arm as he snickered. The quarter-Saiyan cocked an brow in curiosity.
“I knew Uncle Goten was bringing a rich girl home,” she began, “I just didn’t think it was you!”
The comment made Bulla blush and Goten was also turning a shade of red. Did Pan assume this was a date? Goten put both his hands up with nervous laughter. “Well, Bulla is a girl, Pan!” the elder hybrid joked with his niece.
Bulla took this as her cue to add, “and rich!”
The two tried to look inconspicuous, uneasy chuckling dancing out of their throats, but Pan’s face remained as it had before. “Interesting…” she started again.
With perfect timing, Chi-Chi handed her granddaughter silverware. “Pan, I told you Bulla was coming—not my fault if you weren’t paying attention to the details. Now, help me set the table,” the matriarch insisted shooing her grandchild. Pan groaned as she started to follow her grandmother’s instructions.
Bulla breathed, thankful for the disruption. She gave a respectful nod to the Son woman.
“Chi-Chi—is there anything I can do to help?” Bulla asked politely.
Her cheery attitude made Chi-Chi clap her hands in approval. “Oh, you darling girl, you are too kind. Nonsense!” she insisted. “You are a guest,” gesturing Bulla towards a seat. Chi-Chi’s gaze turned to her younger son. “Goten! Don’t just stand there—where are your manners? Help Pan set the rest of the table!”
Goten blinked in surprise at the forceful tone, then sprang into action. “Yes ma’am!” he said gulping, not wanting to upset her.
The sight made Bulla chuckle. Chi-Chi had this family whipped into shape, much like her own mother. She silently observed everyone finishing their tasks; Chi-Chi smacking Goku’s hand away from the hot meal coming out of the oven, Gohan putting the finishing touches on another dish, and Videl filling up the water glasses for table. Even Goten and Pan were in a better mood as they poked each other while setting the table.
Though she had experienced dinner with the Son household many instances before with her own family, Bulla couldn’t help but feel as though this was the first time. Seeing them all in their natural element without the shield of any sort of pretense—it warmed her heart. Bulla’s thoughts reflected on the conversation she had with Goten earlier about the affection his family shared, and she was overjoyed to see that was still the case. The heiress caught Goten smiling at her in-between his teasing of Pan, which prompted her to smile back with wordless amusement.
…
“So, Bulla,” Gohan said biting off a dumpling, “you’re full-time now at Capsule Corp., right?”
Bulla finished chewing her vegetables and dabbed her mouth before answering. “That’s right,” she answered, “in the Research and Development department.”
“Oh, that’s great. I bet you get to work on some cool projects then!” Gohan exclaimed. Bulla thought it was sweet how excited Goten’s brother seemed to get when discussing anything scientific. She fleetingly saw her trainer scrunch his nose, wondering if her earlier teasing about his brother’s good looks was still a jealous concept in the back of his head. Bulla couldn’t help but be tickled by that thought.
“Quite a few,” she returned. The bluette took a sip of water to wash down the rest of her food. “In fact, we’ve been working on a new spaceship engine that will increase the speed to twice the amount of what it is currently. The goal is to have it solely run on electricity.”
Gohan whistled. “Impressive,” he praised, “would love to check that out sometime.”
“Anytime!” Bulla declared. She heard Goten mumble something and the bluette chuckled to herself. Maybe her comments did get under his skin.
“That sounds wonderful Bulla,” Chi-Chi stated admiringly, “how lucky they are to have you.”
The compliment made Bulla beam, heat rushing to her face. “You’re too kind,” she insisted to the older woman. “It has its moments, but I am enjoying it. Beats running the place, that’s for sure!” she answered back.
Pan laughed. “Your poor brother,” she commented before stuffing a large piece of pork in her mouth. Bulla giggled and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, sucks to be him,” Goten teased, helping himself to more food on his plate.
“Speaking of work, Goten,” Videl began passing the potatoes to Pan, “haven’t seen you at the dojo as much. How’s training your private client coming along?”
“Coming along nicely,” he stated taking a quick look at Bulla who smiled, “I honestly look forward to the sessions.”
That made the young woman’s heart swell.
“I’m glad,” Videl nodded, “you seem a lot happier lately.”
“Do I?” Goten’s eyes flashed in curiosity. Bulla continued to smile quietly to herself, wondering if the man beside her had a change in his demeanor since their sessions started.
“Bulla,” Goku said in between massive bites of his dinner, “been meaning to tell you, your ki has really grown!”
“Come to think of it,” Gohan added, “something did seem different with your energy.”
Both Goten and Bulla reacted to the comments. Although it made the older halfling a bit more nervous than his counterpart, she attempted to remain calm. “Has it?” she asked back to Goku casually.
“Yeah!” Goku tore off a large piece of bread and chewed it fast before swallowing. A large smile graced the fighter’s face. “I felt it from miles away. Is Vegeta training you finally?”
The younger hybrid hesitated for a moment, but ultimately nodded; thankful Goku’s first guess was technically true. As long as she didn’t reveal the extent of her ability, she supposed it wouldn’t do much harm. “He is actually,” Bulla responded.
“Since when?!” Pan wondered with an animated tone. She wiped her mouth after taking a big chug of her drink. “You’ve never mentioned that to me, Bulla.”
“Just this past year,” Goten answered absentmindedly eating his dinner. His eyes bugged out when he realized he inadvertently replied on a topic he should have zero knowledge about. Bulla made a face as Goten gave off a nervous laugh; Gohan raised an eyebrow at the exchange. First Trunks and Marron, now my family—some secret keeper.
“You knew?” his niece queried, dubious of her uncle’s connection with her best friend.
“Goten caught my dad and I sparring last time he was over,” Bulla coolly recovered. “Dad hasn’t wanted to make a big deal out of the training, so I haven’t really been public about it. Your Grandpa Goku is pretty sharp though—” the princess smiled at her father’s old friend and rival who seemed thrilled at the prospect of another fighter.
“That’s awesome!” Goku chimed happily. “I bet Vegeta’s got ya up to speed pretty quickly.”
Pan snickered. “So, you put on some gym clothes and do a little yoga in the gravity room?” she teased.
Bulla could tell her best friend was simultaneously annoyed with her secret keeping as well as a little hurt. She also knew Pan was a bit too competitive for her own good. If she knew that Bulla could go Super Saiyan after less than a year of training, even briefly, the quarter-hybrid would be livid.
“A little more than that,” Bulla retorted a little quieter than before.
Goku, unsure what the tension was about, plainly responded to his granddaughter. “Y’know Pan if she was doing that, I don’t think it would have much effect.”
His youngest son pushed food around on his plate at the conversation. Goten didn’t like Pan’s tone, especially towards someone she considered a best friend. Despite Bulla and Pan’s close age, Goten was apt to notice the difference in maturity.
“Oh please,” Pan snorted, barely able to contain her laughter. “I can see the training session now. Bulla would break a nail and call it a day as an excuse to go shopping,” the quarter-Saiyan continued. She seemed to be the only one laughing.
Bulla’s face didn’t react to her friend’s comments, aside from a momentary flinch. Unnoticed by all, save for Goten who has been staring at her countenance during the exchange. He felt a twinge of guilt and frustration.
“Quit it Pan,” her uncle scolded, “you’re not being funny.”
Clearly not expecting such a stern reaction, his niece put up her hands. “Easy, Uncle Goten—Bulla knows I’m joking,” she insisted, “she’d probably tell you the same thing! Right Bulla?”
Her friend’s lip folded under her teeth, hesitating to respond. Goten was about to retort back with another quip of his own when he felt the small hand next to him on his knee. Bulla shot him a knowing look before averting her gaze to meet Pan’s eyes. “Just a joke,” she averred. Her normal smile came back, assuring him everything was alright. Goten nevertheless gently removed her hand to their side, but not before giving it a small squeeze. Gohan seemed to notice, Goten thought, but his brother remained silent.
“Alright, enough about training—not everyone at this table lives and breathes fighting you know,” Chi-Chi scowled, eyeing her husband who, with a mouthful of food, pointed at himself in confusion.
The two secret training partners sighed in relief at the change in topic, hoping they were out of the woods for the time being. Pan rolled her eyes as she resumed her meal, while her father continued to observe the two younger halflings with interest.
-=-=-=-
In typical fashion, after dinner Goku and Pan excused themselves to go have a friendly spar. The other ladies remained in the dining area to chat while Gohan and Goten were cleaning the dishes in the kitchen. The two created a small assembly line of washing and drying. Goten was scrubbing a stubborn piece of food off a plate, one eye closed in deep concentration, when his brother’s voice got a bit softer than usual.
“So…you and Bulla, huh?”
The younger demi-Saiyan turned towards Gohan with an inquisitive eyebrow raised. “Me and Bulla…what?” Goten asked, not fully understanding the implication.
His elder brother turned side to side, checking to ensure the coast was clear, before leaning in. “C’mon Goten,” he began quietly, “I know you probably didn’t want to say anything in front of Pan, but you weren’t exactly subtle.”
“Subtle about what?”
Gohan lowered the dish he had been drying and looked his brother straight in the eyes. “That there’s something going on between the two of you,” he said straightforwardly.
As Goten continued to scrub, he did his best to appear casual. He figured he could either reveal one of two secret things to his perceptive older brother; that he was covertly training Bulla or that he had not only kissed her the day she turned eighteen but had been unable to stop thinking of her ever since. Goten opted for the lesser of two evils.
“Don’t say anything,” Goten started off, trying to be as calm as he could be, “but she and I have been secretly training together.”
“Why does that have to be secret?”
“You know Vegeta, man. He’s overprotective and doesn’t want anyone else training her. He won’t even let her really talk about the training she does with him. Bulla was eager to learn some new moves, so I offered to help.”
Gohan looked at Goten doubtingly, not feeling like he was given the full story. “And so what—you and her train in secret and no one else knows?”
“Nope. Just you.”
“Is that all?”
The other hybrid paused his actions at his brother’s words as his eyes grew wide. “Gohan, if you’re implying something just come out and say it,” Goten answered sternly, still appearing as if he was unperturbed.
“Are you two dating?”
A nervous laugh bubbled out of him as he nearly broke the plate in his hand. “Dating Bulla? There’s a thought,” Goten rambled, attempting to disguise his apprehension. Though the thought did bring a sense of happiness.
“Goten…”
“What?”
“You’re not…” Gohan trailed off getting flushed, “…hooking up right?”
He knew enough about his brother’s past sexual antics, but the elder halfling always hoped that he’d have a bit more sense than to pursue someone close to Pan’s age. Gohan was full on blushing at this point, very uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, but he couldn’t help but feel protective of Bulla as well as Goten, who could very well be on Vegeta’s kill list should there be any funny business going on.
Goten scoffed, as if to seem offended, and tried his best to hide his own reddening face. “Gohan no—absolutely not,” he asserted. Goten resumed washing the dish in front of him to avoid his brother’s gaze. “We’re just friends,” he murmured, focusing still on his task.
“Just friends, huh?”
“Yes.”
“There’s clearly an attraction there,” Gohan stated resuming his drying duties, “not just on her end. Yours too.”
“She’s an attractive woman, Gohan. That’s an objectively true statement.”
“I’m not talking about that. Both of you have been making googly eyes at each other all night. You also were pretty quick to defend her, even though Pan was being a little out of line.”
“She was,” Goten answered quickly, “and again, as a friend I would do that for anyone.”
“Eleven years is a big age difference, Goten,” his brother cautioned. He finally set the plate down and put his hand on Goten’s shoulder. “I know she’s technically legal, but barely. That’s a really gray area.”
These were facts that Goten would tell himself at night when his thoughts would start to wander and fantasize of Bulla. The age difference was always in the back of his mind, as if the fear of Vegeta’s wrath and Trunks’ disappointment weren’t enough to keep the demi-Saiyan at bay. Even so, the past month of training with Bulla showed that she was far more mature than the dates on the calendar. This made it even harder to rely on those details when he needed help resisting temptation.
“I know,” Goten finally answered back. He couldn’t believe he was about to try and justify it in front of his brother, but he felt a need to defend himself. “Look Gohan,” he added, “there’s nothing between us, but even if there were, Bulla’s been around older people her whole life. She has a Ph.D. for Kami’s sake and emotionally, I think she’s more grown up than I am.”
“You’re not wrong.”
“Hey—”
“Kidding. She’s also your best friend’s younger sister, and your niece’s best friend, however.”
“And she’s the daughter of a former mass murderer who could kill me with his pinky toe,” Goten turned to show off a cheeky grin, “we could go on and on.”
Gohan let out an amused chuckle. “Making a great case for yourself,” he murmured.
“Gohan, I’m sure you mean well, but I would tell you if Bulla and I were together.”
“Would you though?”
The comment caught Goten off guard as he contemplated if he actually would share that side of his life with Gohan. The two were close but they had an age difference of their own, not to mention Gohan’s life path was so unlike Goten’s. Gohan married young and had a kid soon after—it wasn’t always easy to share certain parts of his life knowing that his brother couldn’t relate. Still, they had a bond that was based on mutual understanding of each other’s dissimilarities. However tight that bond was though, any developed connection with Bulla could likely never be shared with anyone, Gohan included.
“Guess it doesn’t matter since we aren’t,” Goten responded with almost a hint of sadness.
Gohan observed his brother’s reaction, sighing at what he was about to say. “Look, I’m a little biased since she grew up with Pan, so maybe my perspective isn’t absolute. Clearly, Bulla has become a wonderful young lady. You both seem to have a close connection, friendly or otherwise. I just would hate for someone like her to be taken advantage of.”
“Gohan,” Goten said in a sincere tone, “I would never do that to her. Nor anyone for that matter, but especially Bulla.”
“Goten, I know,” Gohan assured, “you’ve had your moments, we all have, but I know you’re a good guy. Just…keep in mind your age brings life experience that no amount of maturity on Bulla’s part can replicate. I’d hate to see you both get hurt because of something like that.”
The younger halfling grew quiet once more, deep in thought. Gohan nudged his brother.
“But like you said,” he continued, “you two are just friends.”
A flash of Bulla’s lips on his own the night of her birthday crossed Goten’s mind. He smiled at the memory.
“Right, just friends.”
-=-=-=-
“So, Bulla,” Chi-Chi began as she brought coffee and cakes over for the ladies to enjoy, “we heard about work and your training, but we’re dying to know what’s going on in your love life.”
Bulla momentarily coughed on her piece of crumble cake and smacked her chest to help it down. Caught unprepared by the question, she tried to regain control of her voice. “My--?” she blushed as she realized she couldn’t finish the sentence.
“What Chi-Chi means,” Videl tried to approach the subject less invasively, “is do you have your eye on anyone?”
Bulla’s complexion reddened further, trying her hardest to keep her secret affection for the youngest Son brother hidden. “Well not really,” she said looking down, “work makes it a little tough to date.”
Chi-Chi sighed. “Goten says the same thing,” she shook her head, “ever the bachelor. Even though his father and I were married at your age! Videl and Gohan too!”
“It’s not for everyone though,” Videl added understandingly. She gave a nod towards Bulla. “I can imagine it’s hard balancing a good work and life balance.”
The mention of her crush gave Bulla butterflies. “Yeah, I get it…” she trailed off thinking of what to say, “hard to meet people when working long hours.”
Videl smiled at the younger woman. "You know Bulla, when Gohan taught me how to fly, that was when we really bonded. It was something we had in common. Maybe you should look for someone with similar interests!" she declared happily.
Bulla briefly glanced towards Goten in the kitchen washing dishes and laughing with his older brother. A warmth filled her chest with glee. "I'll keep that in mind."
As the conversation went on, Bulla faintly heard Chi-Chi and Videl reminiscing about their young love, but the princess was solely focused on the demi-Saiyan she had been so fond of. She quickly averted her absentminded gaping when she noticed Goten and Gohan wiping their hands and returning once more to the living area.
“Ladies,” Goten greeted, charming as ever. He shot a quiet grin at Bulla. “What’s the topic of discussion this evening?”
Bulla’s eyes broadened, worried at what her companions would say.
“Nothing crazy,” Videl maintained, and Bulla felt a momentary sense of relief, until Chi-Chi interjected.
“We were just asking Bulla if she was interested in anyone,” the matriarch answered.
The look of fear in Bulla’s eyes was enough to excite Goten. He knew her trepidation at such a topic and in spite of assuring his brother just moments before there wasn’t anything more between the two hybrids, Goten couldn’t help but have some fun.
“Ooh,” Goten began with a Cheshire Cat grin, “do tell Bulla. What’s your type?”
Both Bulla and Gohan eyed the other half-Saiyan strangely, both for the same reason. Bulla could hardly believe he was being so openly forward and Gohan, who could believe it, shook his head but Goten was exclusively focused on the princess.
“I—” Bulla started unsure of how to answer.
“Don’t be shy,” he teased, prompting an eye roll from Gohan.
Bulla tried suppressing a smile at Goten’s audacity. “I don’t really have a type,” she answered truthfully. She hoped her honest response would conclude the teasing, but it only seemed to egg Goten on further.
“Everyone has a type,” the older half-Saiyan grinned, “even you.”
“You seem so sure about that.”
“Oh, believe me I am,” Goten smirked. He looked at her ponderingly, preoccupied with potential traits. “Let me guess,” the ebony-eyed man resumed, “you like them tall, dark, and handsome.”
Gohan could hardly hide the groan he released into his coffee cup.
Bulla knew a challenge when she saw one. “Perhaps,” she answered warily, drawing an inquisitive eyebrow from Goten, “why…do you know anyone?”
His brother’s groan turned into a hearty chortle. Points to Bulla.
Goten winced at the slight. “Bruising my ego there, Briefs,” he joshed. He waved his hand, the insult already overlooked. “C’mon B-Chan,” Goten continued, “there’s gotta be something you look for.
Knowing that the Son man was not going to let up, Bulla resigned to give him some sort of answer. Her mouth pursed slightly as she contemplated what to say until suddenly, she was reminded of a trait that was dear to her.
“A good heart,” she spoke softly.
Goten seemed to be taken with her answer, remembering the exchange the two had several weeks prior. “I've never doubted your good heart,” she had said so earnestly.
“A good heart,” he repeated, “that’s an important one for sure.”
Bulla smiled at his response, pleased he seemed to get the reference.
“You know Goten,” Chi-Chi began refilling the coffee cups on the table, “you ought to maybe reconsider your type. You’ve had some lousy prospects over the years.”
“Ouch, Mom. Is this dump on Goten night?” he snickered.
“I’m only speaking the truth,” Chi-Chi pointed out, “those city girls you seem to like are after one thing.”
Goten’s eyes widened, wondering what his mother was about to say.
“Money!”
He sighed in relief; thankful she didn’t say something else. “Not all city girls are bad,” Goten commented, nodding in Bulla’s direction. She rolled her eyes but kept smiling.
“Actually, a gal similar to Bulla would be ideal—successful, intelligent, attractive, polite—I could go on!” Chi-Chi declared putting her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. Gohan took too large a gulp of his coffee in the middle of his mother’s words as Bulla felt the heat rising to her face. The bluette knew the Son matriarch didn’t mean her specifically (or did she) however, the implication still was something. Bulla’s sole focus turned to seeing Goten’s reaction.
He observed the youngest hybrid fondly, taking note of her colored cheeks. Goten enjoyed the effect the conversation had on the woman between his teasing and his mother’s unintentional matchmaking. The ebony-haired man wryly grinned at Bulla.
“That could be tough, Mom,” Goten admitted, talking to his mother, but meeting the princess’ stare head on. “I don’t think there’s anyone quite like Bulla.”
Bulla’s expression softened as Goten’s praise left her with a tingling feeling. She had not expected him to say that. There was a magnet on his face, Bulla convinced herself, because despite her best attempts she could not look away from him.
Goten, too, maintained his gaze. Though he meant what he said in the response to his mother, he also was speaking from the heart a bit to the heiress.
Meanwhile, Gohan scoffed at his younger brother’s second blatant attempt at flirting. But despite the obviousness, the eldest halfling took note of the direct staring contest Bulla and Goten seemed to be engaged in. Though his sibling protested, there was certainly no denying the chemistry now. “Just friends, huh baby bro?” he thought amusingly. Gohan stood up to walk towards the kitchen counter, attempting to divert the conversation.
“Say, anyone want more dessert?” Gohan offered up to the group.
Still locked on each other, Goten gave a small wink towards Bulla before affixing his attention to his brother. “I’ll never say no to mom’s cake!” he exclaimed following his brother. He clapped Gohan’s back once they reached the counter as Gohan suppressed a chuckle.
“You’re impossible,” he said under his breath, but amused, nonetheless.
Goten guiltily grinned. “That was all for your benefit, man,” he teased taking a big bite of coffee cake off his plate.
His brother shook his head in disbelief. “Keep telling yourself that, Goten,” he stated, but Goten was already focused back on the heiress whom Gohan suspected never took her eyes off the younger halfling. Whatever the two had going on, be it friendly or romantic, there was no going back for either of them. Gohan just hoped his advice would be heeded, though he somehow doubted that to be the case.
…
“Thanks again for having me over again, Chi-Chi!” Bulla said happily, embracing the older woman goodbye when it was time to leave. Chi-Chi squeezed her in return.
“Anytime, Bulla—you are always welcomed here!” she returned in a sweet tone.
“Bye Videl! Bye Gohan!” she shouted to the two from afar. “Gohan, let me know when you want to take a tour of the facilities,” Bulla offered to the older Son. She heard Goten grumble under his breath for the second time that evening as she poked him in the ribs, rolling her eyes.
Gohan took a sip of his coffee as he observed the two one last time. He waved at her from the table. “Looking forward to it, Bulla. Have a goodnight!”
“Goten, are you staying over? Your old room is still set up for guests,” Chi-Chi asked her youngest child.
“Oh,” Goten sounded almost disappointed as he turned to Bulla. “I was thinking of flying back with Bulla, so she didn’t have to go alone,” he admitted. The bluette was charmed by his offer, but Goten had done so much for her already that day she didn’t want to prevent one-on-one time with his family.
“Don’t worry about me,” Bulla assured, “I’ve got a Capsule Car I can drive home with. Besides, I’m tired from all the—”
She was about to say training but caught herself. “Cake,” she corrected turning towards Chi-Chi, “couldn’t get enough of that cake.”
“I’ll make some more and will have Goten drop it off since you liked it so much!”
Bulla laughed with Goten in the doorway of the Son home. In the distance, she saw the auras of Pan and Goku still going at it. Goten rotated towards his mother. “I’m just gonna say goodbye really quick,” he said softly, about to close the door behind him, but not before he caught one of Gohan’s many eye rolls for the evening.
As the autumn air hit her face, Bulla shivered a bit. She suddenly felt a warm arm around her, looking up at the other hybrid looking peaceful.
“You sure you want to drive home alone?” Goten questioned, slightly concerned about the heiress traveling in darkness.
“Oh, it’s not a big deal I’ll be fine,” Bulla contended, “besides, I’d rather you get some alone time with your family. I took up enough of it.”
“I like spending time with you, Bulla,” her companion admitted aloud, rubbing her arm ever so slightly, “and my family does too.”
Goten leaned closer to the heiress admiring her features. They looked extra appealing in the moonlight, he dared to think. He inhaled her scent, the familiar waft of coconut shampoo and a fruity perfume permeating his nostrils. It became apparent that he really didn’t want her to leave.
Bulla smiled at the handsome man in front of her, struggling desperately not to go weak in the knees near him. Goten certainly had surprised her tonight with his forwardness, joking or not. It warmed her chest just thinking about it. Bulla exhaled, knowing that she had to start heading back lest her father send out a search party.
She enclosed him in a hug, her slender arms tightening around his neck. “See you next week, Goten,” Bulla said releasing him from his hold before he even had time to really return it. The elder demi-Saiyan gently squeezed her side as she withdrew from him.
“Text me when you’re home?” he requested sweetly.
The princess nodded, touched by his thoughtfulness. “I will, promise,” she said honestly. Bulla tossed a capsule to unveil a car as she waved goodbye to the older man. Goten gave a two-finger salute before heading back inside, smiling softly at her. Bulla took a deep breath before rotating towards the car. She was about to open the door when a voice distracted her.
“Secrets, secrets—”
Bulla turned to see Pan behind her, arms crossed, evidently finished with her sparring session. The bluette released a long sigh. “Spooked me there for a second, Pan,” Bulla said, hoping to distract her.
“Not quite, Blue,” Pan retorted, using her nickname, “we need to have a little chit-chat.”
Bulla gulped. “About…?”
“You know what about. First, you don’t tell me you’ve been training with your dad for a year and then I come to find that the girl my uncle is bringing home for dinner is none other than you.”
Bulla sighed, knowing she owed some basic answers to her best friend. “Look, I’m sorry I never said anything about training, it wasn’t personal I just hadn’t told anyone. You know how my dad is.”
“Sure, but that doesn’t explain how you and Uncle Goten are a thing.”
“We are not a thing!” Bulla insisted.
Pan scoffed with a single laugh. “Bulla, he’s never and I mean NEVER brought anyone home before.”
The revelation struck her. “Wait, what?” she wondered, astonished.
“Interesting…” Pan chortled once more, “guess he didn’t tell you that.”
“Not that it means anything because we’re friends,” Bulla said, “but are you telling me even Valese never came over?”
“Kami no!” her friend waved her hand at the idea. “That airhead was on my grandma’s shit list; Goten knew better than to bring her around. Besides, they were too on and off.”
The constant, small twinge of jealousy Bulla felt toward the woman in question seemed to dim a bit when Pan revealed that. She tried not to react too strongly to the news.
“I’ve been over before with my family Pan,” Bulla veered the conversation back to her insistence of being just friends with the man, “it’s not like it’s anything new.”
“Yeah, but this time without the rest of your family,” Pan pointed out.
Bulla was running out of responses. Her ebony-haired friend sighed. “Look Blue,” she said softer than before, “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time earlier. I have to say though, you brought out a side of Uncle Goten I don’t really see.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought he was about to bite my face off,” Pan laughed. She looked at her friend with a peculiar grin. “So tell me, what’s actually going on with you two?”
Just then, the women were interrupted by Pan’s grandfather coming over, whose impeccable timing made Bulla sigh in relief. Goku was smiling widely, ready to say his goodbyes. “Have a safe drive back, Bulla. If you are ever up for it, would love to spar with you and get a sense of your power!” Goku declared as patted her back.
The heiress smiled at her father’s rival. She saw so much of Goten in Goku and vice versa, but the two were certainly incomparable. Bulla liked that they were still distinctly themselves. Though she was certain Goku could kick her inexperienced behind, she appreciated his offer.
“Deal,” she bowed politely.
Goku patted her back once more and took off, but not before turning around. “Ya coming Pan?” he asked, sporting his signature Son pose.
Pan gave one last cryptic look at her friend. “We’ll finish this another time,” she cocked her head in amusement before making her way back up the door with her grandpa.
Bulla let out a huge breath once they vanished and thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t have to divulge anything else to her friend that evening. Though she was given more time, Bulla hadn’t the slightest clue what to tell Pan, and silently hoped she’d never have to.
Sorry Pan, meant to tell you at some point that I’ve wanted your uncle my whole life, oh by the way—did I mention we kissed?
-=-=-=-
The next day, Marron sat in the living area of Capsule Corp. waiting for Bulla to descend for their shopping excursion. She fidgeted nervously, wondering if Trunks would come through the common area at all. Although she knew he’d be tied up with work, Marron knew her friend liked to get out of the office during his breaks.
“The brat’s working right now,” she heard a booming voice say from afar.
Marron’s eyes met the black orbs that belonged to Vegeta, whose gaze never ceased to unnerve her a bit. She recalled Trunks’ offhanded comment about his father still being upset with her mother all those years after breaking his arm, but she hoped for her sake, that story was greatly exaggerated.
“Hello Mr. Vegeta,” Marron murmured uncomfortably, she quickly stood to bow in respect and sat back down.
Vegeta sneered wordlessly as he filled a glass of water and drank it just as fast. Marron noted he looked like he was just returning from the gravity room, covered in perspiration and a reddened complexion.
“I’m actually here for Bulla,” she continued, feeling the need to justify her presence, “she and I took personal day to hang out.”
The Saiyan Prince clicked his tongue, thoroughly unamused, while Marron held her breath. As he passed by, he paused momentarily to sniff the air, before shaking his head and leaving as quickly as he arrived. Marron sighed in relief when the Prince of Saiyans exited the room. No matter how long she had known Vegeta for, the man still intimidated her.
Almost as much as Trunks.
The two had been remarkably quiet with one another since their night together. Marron genuinely hoped that she and Trunks could at least be friends if they couldn’t be lovers. She foolishly thought that was possible. But like hitting a brick wall, the realization dawned on her that perhaps they couldn’t ever go back to what they were.
She let out a sigh. Marron never would have acted so impulsively had she grasped the toll their union would cause.
Of course, these thoughts she put to bed as soon as she saw him enter the room.
Suited up, Trunks looked as handsome as ever. Donned on his nose were glasses he only wore when at work, which Marron always thought looked a bit misplaced, yet still quite attractive on the lavender-haired man. The half-Saiyan looked deep in thought while he passed by. Her breath quickened when she realized he hadn’t noticed her yet, the demi-Saiyan concentrating solely on making his way to the kitchen. As he grabbed a soda from the fridge, Trunks managed to spy Marron out of the corner of his eye.
“Mare,” he said rather quickly, almost dropping the soda can.
She let out a small smile. “Mr. President,” Marron returned cheerfully.
A flush of red crossed Trunks’ face as he turned away. He cleared his throat realizing how awkward he was being. “Sorry, just didn’t expect to see you here on a workday,” he responded casually, still not making eye contact.
“Playing hooky today with your sister,” the blonde confessed, “only time we could make our schedules work for a mall date.”
Trunks nodded along soundlessly. Attempting his best to not make things weird between the two of them, even though he was far past that point. Trunks knew he had been keeping himself distant from Marron ever since their night together. Shamefully, he regretted not being able to act like nothing happened, which was their initial agreement to begin with. He was the one insisting to just pretend it was a drunken one-off night of passion. He was the one who said they could still be friends.
But how do you go back to being just friends when you’ve been inside someone?
His gut sunk into itself as he took another nervous sip, knowing his silence was more deafening than anything.
“Well—that should be fun,” Trunks whispered gawkily.
Marron didn’t know what to think of his presumed indifference. It became harder to keep the smile on her face, but her pride forced her to. “Yeah, should be,” she added.
The two shifted uncomfortably. How was it that a few weeks ago they were laughing alongside their other best friend and now they felt akin to strangers?
“You know,” Marron began softly, “I was worried when you didn’t respond to my last text.”
Trunks looked down, knowing that he was guilty of being evasive.
“Sorry, things have been a bit nuts lately,” he tried to come up with an excuse.
A frown formed on Marron’s pretty lips. “You sure you’re just not avoiding me?” she wondered boldly for her.
He shook his head. “That’s not it at all, Marron.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” she retorted, eyes shuffling elsewhere.
The halfling took umbrage at the truth she was implying. “Marron, we’re friends, why would I avoid you?” he asked incredulously.
Ocean blue eyes met their icy counterpart.
“Do I have to say it?” the blonde whispered, her face cringing in pain.
Trunks didn’t have an answer for her. His silence hurt more than flat out rejection. Though her pride wasn’t as strong as a Saiyan’s pride, it wouldn’t let her take his apathy lightly.
“Fine Trunks—you clearly don’t want to talk,” Marron said sadly, sitting back down in her seat. Her friend stalled as he took in her statement.
“You’re such a dumbass, Trunks,” he told himself. He coughed to clear his throat. “I should head back for my meeting,” the lavender-haired man said heading in the other direction. “Have…fun with Bulla,” he wished her uncomfortably, meaning his words though struggling to say them. Marron avoided eye contact with the young prince but nodded.
With that, Trunks took off towards the hallway in a huff distracted, whereupon he almost mowed over Bulla. “Hey!” his sister snapped at him. Putting her hands on her hips, she stared him down. “Watch where you’re going, doofus,” she clacked.
Her brother’s appearance grew into a scowl. “You!” he said, finger pointed. “You need to tell me when you…you…” the prince couldn’t very well say invite Marron over, “…when you take a PERSONAL day.”
The heiress laughed derisively at the elder half-Saiyan. “Well, excuse me sir,” she gave her best curtsy, “I’ll be sure to inform you instead of HR next time.”
Trunks grunted in frustration. “Women!”
Bulla stared at his fading figure with a confounded exterior. “What’s his problem?” she muttered under her breath. The bluette entered the living area to see her best friend pensive and pouting. She speculated what happened to get Marron in such a mood and wondered if it was at all related to Trunks’ strange demeanor.
“Sorry for the delay!” she said, bringing Marron’s attention towards her. The blonde’s mood instantly changed upon seeing the other woman.
“No big deal,” the human assured. She stood up with a smile. The blonde nervously twisted a pigtail, a habit Bulla recognized Marron did when stressed. “Ready to go?” her friend asked.
Bulla wanted to say something else but simply nodded as Marron took off for the door with impressive speed. Whatever was on her friend’s mind certainly seemed to be weighing heavily.
-=-=-=-
“Marron, what do you think about this one?”
Bulla held up a blue pencil skirt, taking Goten’s comment about her best color to heart. Marron was zoned out looking in the other direction, missing the comment made by her friend. She still felt embarrassed about her awkward moment with Trunks earlier and it was hard to concentrate on the shopping at hand.
“Marron?” Bulla inquired once more.
The blonde snapped out of her trance. “Sorry Bulla,” Marron apologized, “I’m a little out of it today.”
Bulla’s azure eyes stared intently into Marron’s own pair. “Is everything okay?” she wondered.
“Just a lot on my mind,” Marron smiled weakly. She didn’t want Bulla to worry, but even more so, she didn’t want to reveal anything about her tryst with Trunks to his sister, despite Marron’s close friendship with her.
“I noticed you were a bit preoccupied when my brother left. Did he say something to bug you? Because he was being super weird.”
Perceptive, Bulla.
“No,” Marron lied, “we didn’t talk long. He seemed stressed about work.”
Bulla thought for a moment and then responded, “I think you’re right. He’s been working nonstop this last month.”
Her friend’s ears perked up when Bulla revealed that. She wondered if it was because of their one-night stand that Trunks was diving into work so much. His avoidant behavior would certainly have him wanting to focus on other things.
“Marron,” Bulla continued, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”
The blonde’s face emitted a white glow. The blue-haired halfling must have seen through Marron’s weak fib. “I—I know, Bulla.”
“And I know I can tell you anything—”
“Right but,”
“—there’s something I’ve been dying to share with someone. You can’t tell ANYBODY though.”
A few blinks later, Marron suddenly realized that Bulla was talking about a secret herself, and not Marron’s sordid affair. She sighed in relief. “Of course, you can tell me anything Bulla,” the older girl said, “I promise I won’t say a word.”
Taking a deep breath, Bulla looked down on the ground and mumbled. Her voice was so low, Marron couldn’t hear a thing.
“What was that?”
“Gotenkissedme—”
“What?”
“Goten kissed me!” Bulla shouted with more animation than she expected.
Marron’s mouth dropped in pure shock. “Goten did WHAT?!” she asked, jumping to her feet.
Bulla immediately shushed her and looked around the dressing room to make sure no one was nearby. “Shh,” she quieted, “he kissed me. On my birthday.”
“YOUR BIRTHDAY?!”
“Shh!” Bulla hushed her friend even louder.
“Bulla, that was almost two months ago! And you are just telling me now?!” Marron couldn’t believe her best friend would keep a secret of that magnitude from her. Especially when it involved another one of her best friends. However, Marron was painfully aware of the irony of her cowardice when it came to being open with Bulla.
“I haven’t told anyone about that night, Marron! I swear, you’re the first person I’ve said this to.”
“This is unbelievable!” Marron exclaimed. “You and Goten? How?!”
The demi-Saiyan reddened, remembering the promise that started it all.
“Years ago, I asked him to be my first kiss if I hadn’t been kissed by eighteen and he promised me he would,” Bulla started off, taking note of Marron’s befuddled expression, “I genuinely thought he forgot about it, or at the very least wouldn’t go through with it.”
Marron’s jaw was still popping out of its socket in disbelief. “So wait, you’ve had this secret for YEARS?!”
Bulla shook her head. “Like I said, I really didn’t think he’d actually remember!” she confessed. The bluette blushed as she recalled that night. “It was when I was out on the terrace by myself. He came late and we were chatting. Goten brought those chocolate kisses for me, and I assumed that would be the only acknowledgment of things.”
“But then…?”
The younger girl blushed. “Then,” she spoke softly, “then he just looked at me, shocked when I told him I hadn’t been kissed before.”
She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Everything happened so fast, but he leaned in and we just…” the bluette’s cheeks reddened further as she recalled that magical night.
Her friend appeared flabbergasted at the discovery.
“Bulla, that’s so insane. What happened afterwards? Have you kissed since?” Marron couldn’t stop asking questions. She had always known Bulla had a crush on Goten, but the fact that he seemed to have some sort of attraction to her as well was an unexpected development.
“We…well, we haven’t kissed since but Goten and I…”
She trailed off prompting Marron’s mouth to drop.
“Have you slept together!?”
“Marron!” Bulla shouted, getting redder. “No, nothing like that. He’s actually been training with me.”
“Training?” Marron questioned. Her eyes lit up. “Oh my gosh, is that what he meant?!”
“What who meant?”
Marron grabbed Bulla’s arm. “Goten mentioned that you started training with your dad the night the three of us went out,” her human friend continued, “He actually kept bringing you up, asking Trunks how you were, which I could tell confused your brother.”
Bulla appeared shocked that Goten was mentioning her to Trunks and Marron at all. “I wonder why—we only started training shortly after that.”
“I didn’t think much of it at the time, but Goten definitely looked nervous when he asked about you. That makes sense now though knowing he had just KISSED you not too long before that.”
“Marron, c’mon…”
“And now he’s training you? Spending one-on-one time with you?” Marron questioned, the animation in her voice continuing to unfold.
“Yes,” Bulla replied gently, “and while we haven’t kissed again, we’ve gotten closer. He even invited me to his family’s Sunday dinner last night.”
Marron continued to remain bug-eyed and interested. “Bulla Briefs!” she cried.
“It was totally platonic,” Bulla tried to explain, though she knew Goten attempted to be a bit flirty with her. Especially when his mother and sister-in-law brought up her love life. Still, she remained unconvinced it had to do with attraction towards her and more about him just teasing her. Even though she told herself it meant nothing, she smiled thinking about his firm embrace at the end of the night.
“So, your dad doesn’t even know about any of this?!”
“Kami no—Goten would be dead and I would be locked up in some deep, dark bunker if he did. No one else knows and like I said, you can’t say anything. Especially to Trunks.”
The mention of Bulla’s brother caused Marron to cringe momentarily. “I swear, you don’t have to worry about that,” she promised again, “Trunks doesn’t exactly react to things the best way. I can’t even imagine what he’d do in this scenario.”
“You’re telling me,” Bulla emphasized. The bluette sighed. “Goten is his best friend, you aside,” she said matter-of-factly, “Trunks has badgered me for having a crush on him, but I don’t think he realizes that there have always been true feelings there on my part.”
“It sounds like Goten may have some too,” Marron pointed out quietly.
Bulla’s eyes brightened. “What do you mean?”
Marron looked at her friend dubiously. “Bulla, are you serious? Why would he be spending so much time with you? Out of the kindness of his heart?”
“I mean,” the hybrid began, “it’s Goten. He’s a good guy.”
“Goten is a great guy!” Marron stated excitedly. She cleared her throat. “But secretly training you, kissing you on your birthday, inviting you to family dinner? That’s not just friendly.”
“Marron,” Bulla said with a twinge of sadness, “he’s so much older than me. Even though I don’t care about age, I know it’s something that has bothered him. Plus, with Trunks and my dad as my family, I doubt he’d ever do anything about it.”
“I mean, I know it isn’t ideal,” Marron continued, “but as far as age goes, at least you’re an adult. Plus, your family is your family—as much as Trunks would freak out, I’m sure he’d come around. He knows Goten is a fantastic person who’d do anything to defend you.”
Bulla secretly hoped her friend had a point. Best case scenario, Trunks would be annoyed but understanding eventually. Worst case scenario, Trunks and Goten’s lifelong friendship would be destroyed, and she would be the one to blame for it. The princess sighed, hoping the former situation to be more likely.
“Then there is my dad…”
“Ah, Mr. Vegeta…” Marron thought back to her earlier encounter with him and how awkward it was, “…look, strength is important to him right? Who is stronger than a Saiyan to protect you? Does he think a human would be able to?!”
“I think he just assumes I’ll join a nunnery and live until my dying day chaste and husband-free.”
Marron chuckled, attempting to envision her stunning friend, who could have any man in the world, in a convent somewhere. “Well, no offense to your father, but I don’t think that’s your destiny,” she said reassuringly.
Bulla chuckled, grateful for her friend’s unexpected support on the matter. “Marron,” she began softly, “you really think he may feel something?”
“Look, I’m not an expert in relationships by any means,” Marron said. Understatement of the year, Mare. “But I do know that you and Goten are two great people that seem to have a connection,” she added, “and you’ll never know unless you ask him.”
Bulla’s face blanched. “Oh, absolutely not, Marron!” she shouted in terror. She put a hand to her face, embarrassed at the thought. “Even if he did feel a tiny bit of affection towards me, I’d be mortified to just ask him,” the Saiyan Princess retorted.
Marron’s heart stung, knowing all too well the same feeling Bulla was experiencing. She lamented her lack of bravery earlier with Trunks, and for that matter, all month since her encounter with him. How hard it was to just come out and say that night meant something to her, and she hoped it did for him too. But she was too cowardly—too worried about ruining the friendship.
“I understand,” she responded tenderly, “but as a third-party who cares deeply about both of you, I’d rather you know where you stand with each other than tiptoe around for Kami knows how long.”
Bulla’s eyes darted towards the ground, considering Marron’s advice. She knew at some point the conversation needed to be had with Goten, but she was enjoying their time together and didn’t want that to be cut short all because of her silly feelings. Even so, the small chance that Goten could potentially feel something similar towards her gave her heart wings, inspiring enough hope to possibly take flight.
She just didn’t want to fly too close to the sun and watch them burn.
-=-=-=-
The following Sunday, Goten sat against a nearby rock awaiting Bulla’s arrival for their next training session. He grabbed fistfuls of grass in his hand, mindlessly tossing them to the side, while deep in thought.
After spending the last month with the princess, Goten was no closer to getting her out of his head than he was prior to their kiss. He had faintly wished for their time together to have the opposite effect; somehow seeing her as just another sparring partner that would knock some sense into him, literally and figuratively. Yet, as she tended to do often, Bulla somehow managed to permeate his thoughts even more so than before.
It wasn’t as if he knew nothing about her before their additional time together, but Goten was pleasantly surprised at how much he noticed about the bluette as they trained. Her feistiness certainly came out more. The Son man chuckled at how Bulla seemingly let down her guard around him while spending one-on-one time with each other. It had him wondering just how much she previously tried to hide in an attempt to be cool. Not that he minded; he appreciated the openness between them, especially after the prior week.
The conversation they had post-spar was one of the most honest discussions Goten ever had with anyone. Trunks didn’t even know about the depth of Goten’s insecurity around his place in his family. Yet, Bulla managed to bring it out of him so easily. Here she felt the same, a silent shadow that rarely had a chance to come out of the dark.
While Goten sang her praises during that chat, a piece of him felt like he had so much more to say. Maybe that’s partly why he invited her over to dinner with his family; he didn’t want their time together to come to an end. It wasn’t lost on him just how seamlessly she seemed to fit in to their chaotic little clan. Granted, Bulla had years of experience with the Son family, but seeing her interact with everyone without the backdrop of a big Capsule Corp. party or other guests made him even more drawn to the heiress.
His brother’s concerns did bring a dose of reality to the evening, but just as soon as he finished that dialogue, Goten just as easily forgot it. Doing what he could to get Bulla to blush about her love life, knowing full well she wasn’t seeing anyone, was more than just a fun way to rile her up. While perhaps a bit brazen for two people trying to keep multiple secrets, Goten couldn’t help himself. Some part of him wanted to get her to admit aloud that she saw him the way he was starting to see her.
Intuitively, Goten felt it whenever he held her. The slight tremble of her figure, the reddening of her cheeks, the quickened breath—he wasn’t a novice when it came to women being attracted to him. The connection between the two of them, however, was unlike anything he experienced with prior relationships. And still, Bulla managed to hold some of her poker deck to her chest. Just when he was absolutely certain where she stood on things, Bulla would stun him. Her driving home without him the week prior surprised Goten, although perhaps she truly was just being nice enough to let him spend more time with his family.
Then there was his bath in the creek. For a brief moment, Goten felt as though he was being watched, only to turn and see blinds shut before he could confirm. Had she been…observing him in all his glory? Goten felt his cheeks warming, both out of a bit of pride as well as slight concern. Bulla made it clear multiple times since they started things that she wasn’t just some kid sister of Trunks anymore. With that adulthood however, even Goten realized that meant growing up in more ways than one.
In spite of his attraction to her, the beast inside him still wrestled with inappropriate thoughts. He remembered the rage he felt when she told him the motivation behind her brief flicker with the Super Saiyan form. Just the thought of Bulla getting cat-called or callously manhandled was enough to make him feel sick. This instinctive need to protect her, undone by a simultaneous desire to have her, certainly didn’t make his predicament any easier. It just made him feel hypocritical.
The previous week he had been so tempted to kiss her goodnight, and though it would have been away from the prying eyes of his family, Goten couldn’t shake his brother’s voice of reason out of his head. Though it was likely for the best the two hybrids hadn’t kissed that evening, his gut churned at the thought. It was starting to become more difficult to resist the princess, but he couldn’t let his guard down.
She was counting on him to help her, even if that meant denying his desires.
“Hey.”
Bulla landed nearby, arms behind her back, virtually sneaking up on the distracted Son man. Goten took note that her training outfit was a bit different today. She merely wore a spandex suit, sans the protective gear, the color several shades darker than her hair. His eyes perhaps lingered longer than they should have, but he appreciated her figure, especially in that outfit.
“Hey,” he said in rejoinder. Goten stood up to approach her and noticed Bulla was a bit more sheepish today than in times past. She was staring at her feet and looked deep in thought. After their day the Sunday before, Goten thought the two had gotten closer, though Bulla was now acting like a shy teenager.
“You okay?” the older demi-Saiyan asked.
Bulla nodded. Her nerves multiplying in her stomach. Why was she so nervous? If anything, her talk with Marron should have calmed her but the pressure to get a sense of where Goten was at with his feelings intimidated Bulla greatly.
Her older companion observed the way she shifted. She certainly looked demure, a stark contrast to her more verbose presence. “B-Chan?” he inquired gently.
“Do you think we can focus on me going Super Saiyan again?” Bulla offered up as a response. His eyes broadened, wondering how she just shifted right into training mode without any sort of pleasantries. Whatever was bothering her, Goten hoped letting loose with a spar would help.
“I know you’ve been frustrated you’ve only unlocked Super Saiyan once or twice since we started,” Goten began, “but I think you’re still making great progress.”
“Thanks,” Bulla replied, looking as though she was blushing a bit.
Was she…was she acting nervous around him? He really needed to find a way to get her to let loose then.
“I’m not going to go easy on you today, Bulla—” Goten continued to say before she cheekily interrupted.
“Oh? You’ve been going easy, huh?” she folded her arms in amusement as he smirked at her sassiness. There she was.
“—very funny.”
He powered up immediately to Super Saiyan with virtually no effort, unlike sessions before where he took his time to show her how to power up effectively. Bulla once again admired his gilded state equally as impressed with the raw energy behind his change. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Goten said in a singsong tone, very aware that Bulla was distracted once again. He hoped to remedy that with the element of surprise.
Before she could blink, Goten was in her face attempting to strike the princess. She countered his blows as best she could for being caught off guard. His aura was emanating such power that Bulla was shocked this was the same man she sparred with the week prior.
"You weren’t kidding," Bulla declared, dodging another one of Goten's powerful strikes.
"I told you, we're going to push you harder today," Goten replied, a smirk on his face as he continued to attack. "We need to get you to turn Super Saiyan and stay in the form longer."
Bulla knew he was right, but the intensity of the training was throwing her off. She had to focus if she wanted to improve. The heiress blocked another one of Goten's attacks and countered with a punch, but he easily dodged it.
"You're too predictable," Goten taunted. "You need to be more creative with your moves."
Bulla gritted her teeth, determined not to let him get the best of her. She powered up, her aura shining brightly as she attempted to change, but something was still holding her back. Goten noticed the struggle on her face and decided to up the ante. He charged towards her with even more ferocity, his fists pounding the air as he prepared to land a blow. Bulla saw him coming and braced herself, ready to counter his attack.
As Goten approached her, Bulla took a deep breath and focused her energy. Just as he was about to strike, she vanished, reappearing behind him with a powerful kick that sent him flying. Goten quickly regained his balance and turned to face her, impressed by her sudden burst of speed and agility.
"Nice move," he said, nodding in approval. "But you can't rely on just one technique. You need to keep mixing things up."
As they continued to exchange blows, Bulla was trying to think of ways to outsmart the more experienced fighter but came up short. She tried to launch a ki blast at him. With little effort, Goten smacked it away, unfazed. Bulla’s teeth clenched as she charged towards him, but the other half-Saiyan startled her with a knee to the stomach, launching her up higher in the air.
On cue, Goten's elbow hit her square in the back, sending her flying across the field. She hit the ground with a loud thud, the impact jarring her body. Bulla slowly lifted herself to a sitting position, but Goten could tell she took quite the tumble.
“Ow,” she cried loudly, slinking towards the ground. Almost immediately, Goten flew over to the heiress to check on her worried he may have pushed things too far.
“Oh no Bulla—” Goten lamented, “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
She sniffled covering her face, not answering his question, and hiding whatever injury she had from Goten. “Here,” he said gently, still in his Super Saiyan form as he raised her from the ground. He attempted to lower her arm, but before he could lower it all the way, Goten saw a flash of Vegeta’s menacing glower in her eyes. That devious look was certainly unexpected.
The roundhouse kick to his face shortly after was also unexpected.
Goten grunted as he was knocked back by a clearly faking Bulla who was on the attack once more. The smirk firmly planted on her face irritated him, but he secretly appreciated the ingenious move—using her perceived fragility in her favor.
“Sneaky little thing,” the Son man chided, dodging the ferocity of blows coming from the heiress.
As Bulla screamed exerting a punch, an amused laugh escaped her lips. “Papa always says to take advantage of your enemy’s weakness,” she said, narrowly missing the elder hybrid.
He chuckled, clearly entertained. As he blocked her efforts, Goten matched her speed. “What’s my weakness, Bulla?” the halfling asked. He was genuinely curious. A grunt was coaxed out of his mouth as her elbow bumped into his side.
“Thinking you know mine!” Bulla shouted, before unleashing another yell. A barrage of ki blasts hurled out from her hands.
Goten evaded the blasts with relative ease, no longer underestimating the daughter of Vegeta because of mere inexperience. The golden energy around him increased in size as he flew out of her eyeline. Bulla strained to sense the man’s ki but was having trouble getting a lock on it. Without warning, Goten reappeared behind her, gripping her in a headlock.
Bulla struggled against his firm hold. Goten’s arms boxed her in, locking the heiress’ arms and body tightly. She made an attempt to flail against him, but it was in vain. Her older companion wasn’t letting her go anytime soon.
Goosebumps tickled her neck as she felt his hot breath behind her. Goten leaned in, gilded light buzzing out from his aura, as he tightened his grasp.
“Then tell me, Princess,” he whispered in her ear, “what is your weakness?”
The words danced in her head, heating Bulla’s insides in a manner that elicited both frustration and desire. It took everything within her not to quiver in his arms. Though, despite her best efforts, a pool of warmth formed below, and she prayed he wouldn’t notice.
He squeezed her a bit tighter, hoping the restrained position she was in would ignite enough frustration for her to change forms. While her power strengthened, Bulla still hadn’t been able to activate her Super Saiyan ability in their spar. She tried to concentrate on her ki, but the princess was too distracted by her bones cracking to effectively focus.
“Well?” Goten hissed, trying to elicit some sort of response from her. Whether it was her going Super Saiyan again or simply providing an answer to his curiosity, Goten grunted attempting to keep the heiress at bay.
Bulla couldn’t even let out a scream in his grip. Though she was unable to move individual limbs, she noticed Goten’s body followed hers as it turned. He had her in his hold, but she knew he would have to sacrifice his mobility to keep her there. Not seeing any other way, Bulla exhausted every ounce of energy to ground both of them out of the sky, plummeting at an alarmingly fast rate.
Goten was not expecting the younger halfling to drag him down with her and though he had her still firmly in his grasp, Goten adjusted his body to take the brunt of the hit once they made contact with the earth below. The two tumbled and rolled a distance before Bulla eventually loosened from Goten’s arms, only to have the older demi-Saiyan slam down on her to get them to stop moving.
As the dust around them dissipated, the hybrids were covered in debris coughing a bit, all while attempting to inhale.
Panting hard, Goten firmly had Bulla pinned beneath him, his strong forearm pressed across her sternum. Bulla gasped for air, exhausted from the exertion of energy, sweat dripping down her face. The elder halfling powered down from his Super Saiyan form, keeping her securely planted below, as he tried to steady his breathing. Sensing she was having trouble catching her breath, Goten removed his arm so that it was resting at her side mirroring his other one.
As she inhaled, Bulla released but a whimper as she took in Goten’s scent. Toffee and musk, exactly like that night on the terrace, and the mix of perspiration and blood merely enhanced it further. His dark eyes somehow looked even darker as they fixed in on the heiress. She had no words to respond with, concentrating only on those obsidian orbs observing her.
His vision skimmed the length of her face, studying every perfect detail. Normally hidden beauty marks and dips, noticeable at close distance, revealed themselves to the older half-Saiyan. Goten’s mouth parted, still struggling to breathe at a normal tempo. Black eyes continued to trace over the princess’ figure, now lowering towards her chest which heaved at an erratic pace. Though he attempted to avoid staring too long at that particular area, her hardened nipples managed to cut through her sports bra and training spandex, completely draining the color from his face. The blood leaving his cheeks had uses elsewhere.
Sweat poured from his temple to jawline, trickling in painfully slow drops. She squirmed beneath him, and he raised himself a small amount to avoid completely blocking her. Hovering over the bluette, he noticed her expression. All at once, Bulla seemed to be enticed, fearful, and unsure. Her eye contact never leaving his once she had Goten’s gaze back at attention.
Goten felt his one hand instinctively roam down Bulla’s side, the other resting for balance. His fingers gripped her hip to steady her; the contact drawing a sharp breath from the younger hybrid. As he switched the balance to his legs, Goten’s free hand nestled itself in between her neck and mandible, his thumb ascertaining the territory.
Intuitively, Goten lowered his head slightly, enough to leave just a small space between his face and her own. Onyx eyes trailed over her lips, so flushed and segregated. Bulla vaguely recalled Goten having a similar stare the night of her birthday, the familiar goosebumps from that meeting prickling her arms. She bit her lip and juddered at the echo of a groan that Goten poorly attempted to suppress. Its vibrations reverberating against her.
Wide-eyed and wanting, she met his eyes one last time as they stopped staring at her lips and concentrated on her. Only her.
“Bulla,” he breathed breathlessly, inches from her very lips.
Her palms floated to his cheeks, as if by some unspoken command, unable to say anything but his name. “Goten,” she whispered back.
She shouldn’t be under him like this, he thought. Looking so lovely, despite the aftermath of their sparring session evident on them both. Torpid eyes traced once more to her mouth, remembering how sweet she tasted that night nearly two months ago. So many times, he relived that moment in his head, never daring to think he could ever experience that sensation again.
Yet, here she was, beneath him and solely focused on what he’d do next. Goten prided himself on self-control in many areas of his life. Including Bulla. Especially Bulla. Even so, his resolve weakened as she leaned in ever so slightly. Goten was determined to meet her halfway and reunite his lips with her own. Bulla closed her eyes in anticipation.
Just as they were about to connect, Goten’s phone rang out from his zipped bottom pocket, a harsh ring back into reality. A guttural grunt of disappointment could not be kept constrained inside his throat as he sharply turned his head. “Shit,” he cursed quietly under his breath.
As the phone continued to vibrate and play its tone, Bulla slowly reopened her orbs, disoriented by the distraction. Goten slowly removed himself from the princess’ form as he took out his phone to see Trunks’ face and name flashing across the screen.
Good, now he knew who to both simultaneously thank and kill.
With no effort to hide his annoyed tone, he answered the call. “What?”
“Geeze, hello to you too,” Trunks said on the line, confused by the uncharacteristic shortness.
Goten sighed. “Sorry Trunks, just in the middle of something.”
He briefly looked at Bulla who was bright red and averting his gaze. Goten’s heart sunk as he realized the precarious position he put both of them in.
“Look man, sorry to bug you, but you need to get over here ASAP.”
His stomach plummeted, worried that he had been found out. “What’s going on?” Goten wondered, attempting to hide any sort of guilt.
“Something is entering Earth’s atmosphere with some pretty noticeable power—we think it’s a ship but have no clue who is on it.”
“Oh that’s—wait what?!”
That was the last thing Goten expected to hear. He’d been so on edge lately he just assumed his and Bulla’s secret training caught Trunks’ attention or worse, Vegeta’s attention. An intergalactic power landing Earthside was not on his bingo card for the year.
“Mom and I are trying to reach out to everyone before they land so we can try to figure out if they’re friendly or not. I’ve gotta call like five people after this. Including my good for nothing sister who’s missed my last three calls.”
Goten’s face inflamed at the mention of Bulla. “Keep trying, I’m sure you’ll get her,” he said to try to throw Trunks off any potential trail.
He heard Trunks snort on the other line. “She’s the least of my worries right now to be honest.”
Thank Kami.
“Want me to rally my family?” Goten suggested, trying to help his friend.
“Honestly yeah, just call and let them know it’s urgent. They may even be sensing it soon, our radars picked up once they entered Earth’s atmosphere. We’re just trying to get ahead of this in case it gets ugly.”
“Understood. Be there as soon as I can.”
He hung up the phone in disbelief, still caught off guard by the news. Goten finally turned again towards Bulla who lifted her eyes from the ground, but nevertheless flushed from before. She cleared her throat as she tucked loose strands behind her ear.
“What did Trunks want?” she questioned rather resigned.
Goten looked at his phone and then back at her. “There’s…some sort of alien ship coming here,” he said a bit disbelieving, “sounds like Trunks and your mom are letting everyone know to meet up to assess the situation.
Bulla blinked, certainly not expecting that answer. She immediately checked her own phone and saw the missed calls. “Shoot, yeah he called multiple times—he only does that when it’s something serious.”
After staring at her phone for a moment, she raised her focus towards Goten once more. He had a somber countenance on his visage and a dull pain ate at her, wondering if he regretted what almost occurred again between them. If he did, that would be the only thing worse than not kissing at all. The princess sighed as she took in his appearance.
“Hey Bulla, about before—” Goten attempted to start off saying, but she didn’t want to be rejected in that moment.
“It’s fine, we’ve got other things to worry about,” she retorted politely, if short. Goten blinked at her sudden response. He knew she was likely feeling strange, as he did, regarding their intense minute together. There was no denying there was still a spark lingering from the first kiss they shared, and that was plain as day to see. It gave Goten a mini jolt of assurance that he’d been contemplating existed at all.
“Sure,” he stated, “but I really think we should talk—”
“Let’s be concerned about that later,” the pragmatist said gathering her things, “sounds like Trunks gave you a task.”
“Right,” Goten acknowledged with a small nod, disappointed with her reaction. He had to touch base with Gohan and his father with the news. “I guess I’ll meet you there.”
“Guess so.”
Once her belongings were assembled, Bulla went to turn in the direction of West City. Her aura intensified waiting to take flight, when she heard her favorite voice in the world speak once more.
“You know,” the older hybrid added, “you never did tell me your weakness.”
Goten felt the warmth on his cheeks, almost surprised those words came out of his mouth. The heiress stalled momentarily; her head aimed towards the side. An amused smirk flashed across her face, barely visible to Goten. “Perhaps one day you’ll know, Son Ten,” she crooned softly.
Before he had a chance to respond, Bulla took off in the air at remarkable speed. The other demi-Saiyan sighed where he stood, trailing her fading figure in the sky. He wanted to chase after her, finish what they had started, but Goten knew the moment had passed. Immediately, he averted his gaze to focus on the task at hand and started to dial his brother’s phone, nonplussed at what could possibly be coming towards them from space.
Airborne, Bulla’s heavy breathing returned once more, barely able to catch up, as she pushed herself to fly as quickly as she could. Nerves bundled together to form a weight in her lungs. The princess puffed feeble breaths out of her mouth, still attempting to dispel her rising heart rate. Fluttering from the trees that she passed fanned her panting form, taking some solace in their cooling breeze. Bulla felt as if her entire body was on fire.
You never did tell me your weakness…
His words stayed with her. She knew all too well the answer to his question.
Don’t you know by now, Son Goten? It’s always been you.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 5 and somehow, I’m alive after all of that (I’m running out of rhymes for these ending notes LOL) I was not anticipating another mega chapter yet here we are. I hope you enjoyed the interactions, though sorry to tease another Goten/Bulla kiss – when I said slow burn, I meant it. Doesn’t mean there aren’t developments of course :)
Chapter 6: Souljin Ambassadors Prince Zasso and General Taikan make an appealing offer for Vegeta to reconnect with distant family. Marron catches someone’s eye and Trunks experiences jealousy.
Almost time for outer space – get ready!!
-SonChan
Chapter 7: Chapter 6: We Were, We Are
Summary:
Chapter 6: Souljin Ambassadors Prince Zasso and General Taikan make an appealing offer for Vegeta to reconnect with distant family. Marron catches someone’s eye and Trunks experiences jealousy.
Notes:
Disclaimers: Per usual, I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the concept of Planet Souljin. As mentioned beforehand, most of what is being used for Souljin is my own creation and lore, as are the original characters that will be seen here. Mostly only using the name and one future character from DBU but even so, wanted to make sure I give credit where it’s due!
Author’s Note: I’m elated that the last chapter was well-received! So sorry that May/June were nuts. It’s been a bit crazy between work and getting my Broten Week one-shot completed (if you like smut, it’s called “Off Limits” so feel free to check it out!)
Hopefully this chapter gives a tiny bit of insight for Souljin as well as gets you excited for their big adventure—a bit of world building that’s been fun to dive into so I definitely appreciate everyone bearing with me :)
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: We Were, We Are
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 6: We Were, We Are
Fire. She still felt like fire.
Bulla finally reached the balcony of her room after nearly passing out from exhaustion. The speed at which she flew was unlike anything she had ever flown before. It was a wonder she didn’t fall flat on her face the second she landed. Yet, she knew she couldn’t dawdle. Not with feeling the way she did, as if she could burst at any second. Not with her father likely now aware of her rapidly increasing ki. Not with the smell of him all over her.
Stripping her clothes to the floor with little care, she rushed into her room and headed towards her connecting bathroom. The young princess sprinted into the shower not even minding the water’s lack of warmth as it hit her body. Bulla hissed from the sensation but soon after, finally breathed a sigh of relief.
She leaned against the marble tile, fatigued but relieved at having a moment to collect her thoughts. The whole way home Bulla was too erratic to fully process what happened between Goten and herself. Their whole sparring session was electrically charged. Goten’s ferociousness instilled a sense of fascination within the princess. It felt primal; the grunts and groans the two emitted as they clashed, the heat of his breath when he encased her in that headlock, the feel of him on top of her pinning her down—mere inches away from her lips. Bulla blushed recalling how what she could only assume was his hardness grazing her thigh as he shifted, but she tried to convince herself it must have been his phone in his pocket.
His damn phone. Bulla would never for the life of her understand how Goten, Trunks, and Marron all still answered their phones. Didn’t they know texting was a thing? While mentally she felt older, there was at least one generational gap that made her realize that she was her age. It was the only time she truly felt younger than the rest of them.
Still, if Trunks hadn’t so inconveniently reached out at that moment, Bulla wondered what would have happened. Surely a kiss was inevitable, but it was more than that. Had they not been interrupted, by the way he caressed her sides, that look of pure fire in his onyx eyes, there was no refusing it.
He wanted her.
Bulla felt her breaths grow heavy at the thought. She couldn’t deny the two had gotten closer and even with Marron’s suggestion of Goten possibly having some feelings, it still didn’t feel real until that moment. Restrained underneath his brawny build, Bulla became as helpless as a baby fawn. His sturdy chest pressed upon hers, firm hands gripping her steady, it was enough to render her senseless.
It was maddening the effect he had on the female hybrid, but she welcomed it all the same.
Instinctively, Bulla’s hand grazed in between her thighs. She rarely did this; too afraid of getting caught by either of her parents or, Dende help her, by Trunks. In the time that she had turned of age, the heiress hadn’t even ventured into an adult store or whatever rite of passage most legal adults partook in. Though she was hardly prudish, Bulla didn’t want to make a habit of the practice. Her father always tried to instill his firm discipline in his children. Whereas Trunks was a lost cause, Bulla believed herself more like her father when it came to matters of control. Despite this, the week before when she spied Goten naked as the day he was born in that stream, she felt that familiar tickle of temptation. With great command, she was able to push that compulsion to the side then, but in this moment, the bluette lacked the willpower to do so again.
A faint moan emitted from her pretty lips, stray droplets of water finding their way onto her tongue. When she made contact with her little bundle of nerves, another gasp escaped as she leaned on the wall for support. Bulla’s breathing intensified while her fingers became acquainted with her core once more. She rocked against her hand, slowly imagining it wasn’t her hand at all. The princess envisioned thick, pliant digits (attached to the most perfect body she had ever seen) slowly sliding up and down her sex with a learned touch. Though she disliked imagining Goten with any other women, Bulla blushed when she thought of his experienced hands producing pleasure to her, using everything he’d studied over the years to bring her to the edge.
Another heavy sigh radiated from her center. “Goten,” Bulla exhaled, a quiet murmur that barely reverberated off her tongue. She could feel his hot breath on her neck again, or perhaps it was the condensation from her scalding shower, but either way, the fantasy in her head was starting to take form. Strong arms wrapped around her petite frame, one to hold her and the other to tease her heated core. Her ears tickled as if she heard him whisper “Princess” in that way he did; singlehandedly making his childish nickname for her sound anything but. Regardless of the manner he said it in, Bulla loved hearing Goten say that word.
A shiver went down her spine.
“Goten,” she repeated aloud to the apparition in the shower with her. While she had never known the feeling of another man’s lips on her neck, Bulla could only think of Goten’s pair planting a trail of affection down towards her shoulders. Even during their first kiss, his mouth hadn’t wandered from her own, still—the bluette cooed at the imagined spectacle of him suckling her sweet skin. It made her dizzy to think about; though of course, this could have again been the temperature of her shower causing her to feel lightheaded. Didn’t matter either way.
She bucked against her hand, still pretending the handsome half-Saiyan was exploring her most intimate place. “Ah,” the lovely hybrid uttered, transfixed on her illusion. The burning tip of her sex ached for the real thing, but her mind was more than generous with the images it produced. Her breath quickened as she quivered in position, neck tilted so her imaginary Goten had full access to her skin. Bulla’s gasps grew louder as she made sure to grab hold of the wall more tightly than before. She mewled at the touch of her sensitive bud humming in Goten’s hands—her hands—whosever hands they were felt like heaven.
And right then and there, she would have died to see paradise.
-=-=-=-
Bulla snuck out of her room in a fresh set of clothes and still slightly damp hair. Her nose twitched, taking a small sniff of the air to make sure all traces of Goten, both real and imaginary, were no longer distinguishable on her person. She sighed in relief when she saw the coast was clear.
Or so she thought.
“Bulla!” a booming voice came from behind. She knew it anywhere.
Shit.
The younger Saiyan turned around to see her father scowling, approaching her at a rapid pace. Bulla hid her cleansed, yet guilty, hand behind her back in shame. Now was the moment where she would attempt to give the performance of a lifetime.
“Hi--hi Daddy,” she tried to say casually. The bluette was impeccably strategic when she said Dad vs. Daddy, and this was certainly one of those occasions.
Vegeta was not convinced. “Where the hell have you been, girl?”
The heiress fretted at the blatant inquiry. She endeavored the task of steadying her breathing, so as not to give away her jumpiness, but under his stern gaze, Bulla was greatly doubting her abilities to do just that.
“In the shower, Daddy—” Bulla started saying.
“Before that!”
Though Bulla understood her father was a rather moody man, she wasn’t usually on the receiving end of his wrath, save for a few rare occasions. Trunks was the one who took the brunt of it, while she usually sat in the corner snickering at his misfortune, like a little sister ought to. This moment, however, she greatly regretted anytime she subjected herself to that schadenfreude. The comeuppance wasn’t worth it. Vegeta’s dark eyes bore into her, basically demanding an answer without using his words. Was this the same look he used to give his enemies before he killed them, she wondered with a chill. Although he had come a long way over the years, the Saiyan Prince still kept his ruthlessness. Why Bulla thought she could ever keep anything from him was a mystery. Even so, she decided to gamble with her less than stellar deck.
“I was working out, honest—” it wasn’t technically a lie, “I just got back not too long ago.”
“Then why were you ignoring your brother trying to get a hold of you? You’re always on your damn phone.”
His observation skills were second to none, but this didn’t strike the same fear into her heart as before. Bulla wasn’t just a pretty face; she had his tactician mind and her mother’s natural aptitude. She could do this. She could bluff.
“My phone battery died,” Bulla lied through her teeth, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize he was calling.”
“Tch,” Vegeta scoffed. “An answer for everything, huh?”
She lifted her head up high. “Dad, what’s wrong?
The Saiyan Prince straightened his back; though he lacked the certain height the other fighters had; he still had several inches on his daughter. Enough to intimidate the hell out of her, that much was clear. “You’re not telling me something, Bulla,” he declared boldly.
It took everything within the princess not to gulp at his statement. Keep your cards close, Bulla.
“What would I be hiding?” she asked warily.
Vegeta in his silence observed her, eyes narrowed in on her countenance, inspecting every little crease for an indication of dishonesty. “That’s for me to find out apparently,” he said sternly.
The two of them continued to analyze the other, both looking for signs of submission. Her father would never be one to back down, Bulla knew this; but still, she was his pride and joy. If she couldn’t convince him that all was good and normal, he’d never believe anything that came out of her mouth again.
“Vegeta! Bulla! The ship’s going to land soon,” Bulma whizzed past them with an urgency that seemed inhuman. It was clear she was coming from her laboratory, analyzing several devices in her hands of data and video. The woman was just as nervous as Bulla had been, though for different reasons. As Bulma passed, her head cocked towards her husband and daughter, with a glare that could chill stone. “The rest of the group is already starting to gather outside—we don’t have all day!” the matriarch snapped as she quickened her pace. The two of them watched her leave before fixing their focus on each other one last time.
“Don’t think we’re finished here, Bulla,” Vegeta warned as he pivoted in the same direction, with the princess following close behind.
She let out a sigh that she had been holding in like a secret. Bulla wasn’t out of the woods yet, but at least she had a short reprieve to get her thoughts together.
However, if these visitors from space weren’t of the friendly variety, her little rendezvous with Goten would be the least of her worries.
-=-=-=-
True to her word, Bulma was right about the congregating group before them. The Son clan had not yet arrived, which put the girl a bit on edge, but she knew eventually she’d see them soon. While not everyone could drop everything at that moment, a good handful of the Z Fighters were already gathered, with more dropping in by the second. Bulla noticed even some of the non-fighting entities, such as Marron and Puar, had stopped by. The former stood close to her parents and waved happily across the way at the bluette, who returned the gesture with a soft smile. Marron’s contented beam seemed to diminish a few seconds later and Bulla wasn’t quite sure of the reasoning. Although, the princess suspected it had to do with the presence she felt nearby.
“Her royal highness sure took her damn time,” she heard a familiar voice chiding behind her. Trunks looked remarkably like their father with crossed arms and giant scowl. Bulla rolled her eyes.
“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Bulla declared.
Trunks scoffed. “Yeah, after how many attempts to reach you?”
“I’m here now,” she repeated, “don’t be such a butthead.”
“Butthead? What are you five?”
“Enough!” Bulma snapped at her offspring. “Two grown adults bickering like children,” she shook her head still messing around with her devices. “There are more important things to worry about,” the genius added.
“Sorry mom,” the two said in unison.
Bulla’s eyes drifted to what her mother was working on. “Are we meeting here with everyone then flying out to wherever this thing is landing?”
Her older brother snorted. “If you had answered your phone, you would know that they’re coming here,” Trunks chastised.
“Here, here? Like Capsule Corp. specifically?”
“That’s what I said,” the elder halfling replied tersely, much to Bulla’s annoyance. “We were able to grab some GPS coordinates from their aircraft when they passed our satellites. Down to the latitude it’s our backyard.”
Instead of insulting him like she normally would have, the heiress glanced at her mother deep in concentration. “Why would they come here to our doorstep?” she asked logically.
Bulma frowned at the implications, toiling away at programming the devices in front of her. “I’m not entirely sure, Bulla,” she stated with some worry in her voice. At this point, Trunks slipped away unannounced, heading in the direction of the pretty blonde whose expression still seemed less than thrilled. Odd.
“Do you think they could know about us somehow?” Bulla continued to inquire. Her mother sighed, resigned.
“Sweetie, I really don’t know,” Bulma answered truthfully. “My gut tells me to not presume the worst, but with everything we’ve gone through, being a bit cautious certainly can’t hurt.”
Bulla was about to ask one more clarifying question before a recognizable voice rang out.
“Heya Bulma! Heya Vegeta!”
The unmistakable tone of Goku caught the attention of everyone in the vicinity. Arriving with the rest of the Son family, his impossibly large smile was blinding in the afternoon sun. Bulla stood partially turned away, afraid to make eye contact with the man she had just fantasized about in the shower, but still curious to see what was going on.
As her mother and Vegeta were engrossed in a conversation with Goku and Gohan, this was Bulla’s chance to sneak a peek at Goten’s whereabouts. She saw Pan and Uub joining Marron and Trunks but took note of Marron facing away from her brother, barely acknowledging him at all. She drifted her vantage point to the others; however, it didn’t appear that either Chi-Chi or Videl joined their kin on this visit. The only one left that she hadn’t seen was him.
Until a stark, black spike pierced over the shoulder of his father and then moved in her direction.
Sapphire orbs followed his figure, widening at the fact that his ragged training clothes and disheveled appearance hadn’t changed from when she sparred with him earlier. Clearly, Goten hadn’t the foresight to shower as she had. “For the love of Kami,” she whispered harshly under her breath, turning her head ever so slightly in annoyance. Such a man.
Without warning, his form emerged in front of her, too quick for even her momentary distraction. Before she could get a word in edgewise, the other halfling beat her to the punch.
“B-Chan, we need to talk…” Goten started off, grabbing her wrist with gentle care, leading her away from the others temporarily. Bulla threw his grip to the side, that burning sensation from earlier slowly making a reappearance.
“Are you insane?” Bulla hissed at the older demi-Saiyan. She kept her voice low in hopes the others were too far removed enough to hear their chatter. Thankfully, Goku was distracting her father with some long-winded commentary, but Bulla knew that wouldn’t last long. Goten blinked at her words without saying any of his own, not quite sure what she was referring to. His silence frustrated her further. She poked her index finger on his chest. “You didn’t shower before coming here?!”
“When would I have had time to shower?!” Goten answered back, incredulously. “Trunks said ASAP, so we came here ASAP.”
“Think Goten!”
“Bulla, what has gotten into you?”
His younger companion groaned. “My dad is going to smell me all over you—not to mention my brother! You don’t think one of their Saiyan noses won’t notice?”
The lightbulb went off in Goten’s mind, suddenly aware that his potent olfactory cells were not exclusive to just him. “Damn,” he muttered under his breath. The princess had a point. Goten had been so wrapped up from the day’s earlier events, there was no time to process logistics of advanced Saiyan sensory abilities. Without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed Bulla into a tight hug that left her dumbfounded but warm. He slowly released her with a wry smile. “There,” Goten began again, “now we can just say it was from that.”
Her cobalt eyes furrowed, still uneasy, yet her pink cheeks suggested she enjoyed the gesture. “You still look like shit,” the bluette answered, wrapping her arms around herself. He wasn’t exactly inconspicuous in his current state.
The older hybrid chuckled in amusement at her discomfort. “Yeah, well that’s thanks to you Princess—you did a bit of a number on me,” Goten confessed. In more ways than one.
Bulla shifted slightly, both nervous and annoyed, but damn was that Son boy ever the charmer. “Sorry,” she said, the flat line of her mouth slowly turning upwards. “wasn’t exactly easy cleaning up your mess either.”
Or mine. Oops.
“Bulla,” the male demi-Saiyan whispered with a light sigh, “you took off so quickly, we hardly had a chance to speak.”
“You said it yourself,” the princess retorted, “we had to get here ASAP. I didn’t want to waste any time.”
“B-Chan—"
Before Goten could get another word in, Trunks called over from afar. “Yo, Goten!” he said waving down his friend. As he approached, Bulla took a step back to increase the space between her and her secret trainer. Goten returned the wave, less apprehensive than his lovely companion, but even he imbibed a bubble of air.
“Hey Trunks,” he greeted casually.
The more senior of the halflings eyed his best friend up and down. “Dude,” he rejoined, “you look like shit.”
Goten could barely stifle a laugh at the exact same response that Bulla had, Trunks echoed. The two were more like one another than they cared to admit. “Well, you caught me in the middle of sparring when you called,” he answered truthfully, omitting the slight detail of who exactly he was sparring with.
“What, with your brother? He doesn’t look beat up at all,” Trunks said, observing Gohan interacting with the others.
“Er, not my brother,” Goten replied. His black orbs caught Bulla behind Trunks signaling not to say anything more. Trunks must have sensed the hand movement as he turned to observe Bulla, who swiftly moved her hands to twist her hair innocently. He cocked an eyebrow, curiously wondering what was going on with her being so jumpy. Trunks pivoted back to Goten, whose grin would seem almost guilty if it wasn’t plastered on his face daily.
The heir clicked his tongue. “Can you believe this?”
“No,” Goten answered truthfully, “to be honest, kind of knocked the wind out of me. We haven’t had anything like this recently, save for maybe an appearance or two from Jaco.”
“Yeah, but that’s different,” Trunks insisted. He shuffled his feet in place. “We know Jaco. We typically know most ships heading this way.”
“So, you and mom have no idea where this ship is coming from?” Bulla pondered, finally contributing to the conversation. Trunks shook his head, seemingly less irritated with his sister than he had been before.
“Direction seemed to be coming from near Andromeda, but not positive,” he replied. The lavender-haired man took out a small device. “From what we can tell, doesn’t seem to be impeccably large or anything, but the machinery does appear to be quite advanced.”
“How so?”
Trunks showed his sister an image that one of their satellites caught of the spacecraft. “Pretty sleek,” he commended, “quiet too. Sensors barely could tell it was entering orbit.”
Bulla’s eyes blinked with curiosity as she surveyed the photo and then soon after Goten, who was leaning over Trunks’ other shoulder to see.
“Then, are we safe to assume they’re coming in peace if it’s one tiny rocket ship?” the younger of the male hybrids questioned hopefully.
“One can hope,” Trunks said warily, “but we never know for sure, do we?”
The three observed the sky intently, until a few voices brought them out of their focused state. The rest of the next generational cohorts had migrated over to where they were standing, Bulla noticing yet again the weird indifference between her best friend and her brother. They both stood by each other and yet acted almost like strangers. What is going on with them?
Goku too, was fixed on the atmosphere above. Next to him, Vegeta had the same expression on his own face, waiting to see exactly what was in store for them. “Do you feel that?” Goku asked quietly to his fellow Saiyan, careful not to alert anyone else nearby.
A small humph seeped out of the prince as he answered back without turning his head. “Yes,” he countered shortly, “seems distinguishable in a way. Familiar almost.”
“I don’t recognize the energy, but there’s something familiar about it like you said.”
“Suppose we’ll find out one way or another, Kakarot.”
Before Goku could respond, murmurs of the crowd around them pointed out the descent of the spaceship looming overhead.
Everyone watched with great interest as the advanced-looking aircraft landed with delicate grace. The ship’s thunderous buzzing slowly whizzed down to a soundless hum. For about thirty seconds, no noise permeated the airwaves, save for the faint heartbeats of the group speeding up at a faster rate. The air was tense as various Z Fighters tightened their fists in place, whereas Bulla and her mother observed with a readied interest. Marron seemed to be more worried than anything, and both Trunks and his father had the same glare on their countenances.
After what felt like eons of silence, the clicking latch of the door droned, slowly revealing the contents of the ship. Two men stepped out from the entrance, behind them a small retinue of uniformed soldiers. Though armed with swords, they appeared to all be sheathed to their sides.
The regal looking younger man had an intricate gold band around his forehead, above were his gravity defying brown spiky locks, save for a few stray bangs. The headgear only accentuated his piercing amber eyes. Adorned with a cape against the backlash of his blue and gold armor, he was well-built and tall, yet somehow dwarfed by the man next to him. His older companion, a clear military officer by his dress and manner, had salt and pepper tresses that matched his goatee. His daunting height towered over most of the Z Fighters even, except perhaps Piccolo.
Both had indistinguishable tails coiled around their waists, as did the rest of their crew, a detail not unnoticed by their present company.
“Are they—are they Saiyans?!” Goten asked, disbelieving.
Vegeta grunted through his teeth. “Souljins,” he hissed under his breath.
The rest of the Z Fighters turned their heads towards the elder Saiyan, as his voice still carried loud enough to be heard. Goku scratched his head. “Say what-jins?” he asked in confusion. Vegeta shot his rival a cold look.
“Souljins,” he repeated, “descendants of Saiyans from their time on Planet Sadala.”
The comment shocked the rest of the group, audible gasps of bewilderment. Goku recoiled with his hands up exclaiming, “What do you mean descendants of Saiyans?!”
Before he could get a solid answer, the more regal looking of the men spoke up.
“Here I was prepared with introductions, yet it seems those have been made,” he said with an amused tone. They both continued to make their way towards the group with no hesitation. Since Vegeta didn’t seem to be on high alert, the others lowered their guard as well.
As the royal and his companion drew closer, the women of the next generation couldn’t help but admire the handsome features of the younger man.
“Oh wow,” Bulla stated quietly, eyes shining as her cheeks tinted. Goten took note of her admiration towards the younger man, feeling a small sting of jealousy.
“Wow is right,” Pan added, uncharacteristically blushing at the handsome foreigner. Uub’s face blanched.
“What a face,” Marron murmured, entranced.
“Wait,” Trunks turned to the three, “you’re not attracted to this guy, right?”
The women all ignored the half-Saiyan as they continued to look on the striking noble with high regard, faces flushing on the spot. A collective sigh passed their lips promptly perplexing their present company. The three men eyed each other with confusion. He didn’t seem that impressive.
Continuing to make their way closer to the group, the royal and the military officer stopped directly in front of Vegeta, whose grimace and signature pose had not changed an iota since being approached.
“Prince Vegeta,” the younger of the two Souljin men said happily at attention. By his enthusiasm, it was clear he was undaunted by the scowl on the Saiyan Prince’s face.
“And who is asking?” Vegeta responded in his usual curt manner.
The royal and the military officer bowed before the Saiyan Prince. “Prince Vegeta, it is an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Prince Zasso, and my companion here is—”
“—General Taikan, Your Highness. A great honor indeed.”
The no-nonsense response from the military man felt fitting, his younger travel partner completely unfazed from the interruption. A small beam appeared on his face.
“As you’ve already impressively deduced,” Zasso continued, praising the other royal as he and General Taikan rose to a standing position once more, “we are from Planet Souljin. My father is King Engei if that name rings familiar. Your distant cousin.”
“Cousin?” Bulma turned to her husband, expecting clarification, but he was far too engrossed in his conversation.
Vegeta flinched momentarily, a faint hint of recognition tingling in his ears. “Engei,” he said quietly, “it’s been decades. He came to Planet Vegeta on several occasions when I was just a young boy.”
“That’s what he said as well,” Zasso replied happily. “He couldn’t wait for me to find out if you remembered him at all,” the prince added. Vegeta’s eyes lit up with shock.
“Don’t tell me he’s still alive?” the Saiyan Prince inquired dubiously.
General Taikan nodded. “Though advanced in his years, King Engei’s reign has been long and prosperous for the people of Souljin. Even as he’s aged, his wits are still quite sharp.”
Zasso laughed. “Yes, Father certainly hasn’t lost his touch,” he said with a chuckle, “not too long ago we celebrated his diamond jubilee.”
“You seem rather young to have a father his age,” Vegeta remarked.
The foreign prince nodded in agreement. “Quite so, I am just shy of my third decennium,” Zasso shared, “Father had my brothers Kusa, Toge, and myself a bit later in life. I am the youngest.”
Vegeta snorted. “Poor manners to send the youngest family member as an envoy,” he uttered briskly. “That famous Souljin etiquette appears to be lost to the void.”
“Vegeta! You’re one to talk of poor manners,” Bulma hissed. He paid her no mind. His wife turned to their interplanetary guests and bowed. “Forgive my husband, Prince Zasso and General Taikan, sometimes that royal head of his gets a bit too full of itself,” she glared in his direction. “We are happy to welcome you to Earth, especially as family of Vegeta.”
Prince Zasso bowed in return. “Nothing to forgive my lady—”
“Bulma.”
“Bulma,” he repeated with a grin. “I appreciate the kind words, Lady Bulma, but your husband is correct. It’s not the standard custom, though we had our reasons.”
“It was actually a request from the Crown Prince,” General Taikan attempted to smooth over coming to his sovereign’s defense, “the heir to the throne is quite detained with being next in line. Their middle brother Toge is a Commander in my army, and while he’s an exceptional warrior, I’ll be the first to admit negotiations aren’t his specialty. Zasso, here on the other hand has always been quite gifted in social matters as well as a remarkable historian.”
“Negotiations?” Vegeta chuckled darkly. “Tell me, General—are we in a war I’m unaware of?” he questioned.
“Heavens no,” General Taikan replied immediately. “I simply meant—”
“—what General Taikan is trying to say,” it was Zasso’s turn to take over, “is that this journey was of great personal interest to me.”
“How so?”
“Growing up, I heard many tales of the might of the Saiyans,” Zasso acknowledged, “it was important to understand our people’s history, but I was genuinely captivated by the stories. The chance to meet one of the last Saiyans in existence, let alone a royal such as yourself, was too tempting to pass up.”
Vegeta rolled his eyes at the attempted flattery. Gohan had cleared his throat hoping to get a word in edgewise for those who were still a bit confused as to the whole connection.
“Forgive me for the interruption,” Gohan had politely interjected, “but I think most of us are a little lost. Are Souljins actually Saiyans or something else entirely?”
“Nothing to apologize for,” Prince Zasso said with a nod. “Save for Prince Vegeta, no one here would likely be aware of our planet and culture. The shortened version is that when Planet Sadala was destroyed due to civil war, several Saiyan factions broke off to find a new homeland. Some ended up on Planet Plant, which was later Planet Vegeta and then others inhabited a planet known as Soula.”
General Taikan added to the conversation. “The Soulan people were kind and hospitable and very science forward. In fact, the warrior focused Saiyans weren’t quite sure what to make of their character. Eventually after time, it was clear the two races benefitted the other as they both had different skillsets to contribute. A marriage alliance was made between the two monarchies and solidified their union into a new lineage. Zasso’s lineage, in fact.”
“That’s correct,” Zasso recognized. “For over two-hundred years, the planet and its people have been known as Souljins, a mix of the Saiyan and Soulan bloodlines. We’ve retained some innately Saiyan characteristics such as our tails and stamina, but certain traits have diluted—"
Prince Zasso pointed to the tail curved around his abdomen. “Our tails, for example, are merely a genetic accessory at this point. We do not change into the Oozaru with the full moon.”
“Fascinating,” Gohan muttered quietly, his hand rubbing his chin.
“Hard to be fascinated with a weaker breed,” Vegeta added with little care.
The Souljin Ambassador turned his head towards the next gen with a smile, seemingly unoffended by the remark. “Not unlike what has occurred on Earth I imagine,” he said. “Though faint, I can sense strong Saiyan blood amongst several here.”
He gestured at Trunks and Bulla with little hesitation. “Your progeny, I presume?”
Vegeta’s children looked almost as surprised as he did. “How did you know?”
“One Soulan trait to give credit for is a very rich sense of smell and ki—for as much as the Saiyans have a talent with those attributes, the Soulan people were even more advanced,” Zasso explained. A slight chuckle emitted from his throat. “Your royal quintessence in particular is quite distinct. I can sense a difference between your children and several of the other Saiyans I’m picking up on here.”
“Their physical features seem more Earthling than Saiyan, which I’m sure they’ve inherited from their beautiful mother,” Prince Zasso said with adulation. Bulma blushed as the Prince of Saiyans all but emitted a groan. “With that being said, I’m certain their human characteristics don’t make them any less impressive on the battlefield.”
Trunks loosened uncomfortably; though the words about him weren’t unkind or untrue, he felt weird being described by a complete stranger. Especially one Marron found attractive.
“That’s because they are still just as much Saiyan as they are human,” Vegeta said with a bit of his distinctive pride.
“And that’s precisely my point, Your Highness,” Zasso concluded. “That very lifeblood is a precious thing—I know it because I feel it coursing through my veins, faint though it may be. The same blood that runs through yours is still all from the same source. Undoubtedly, whatever legacy we all leave behind will still carry the pride of our ancestors within their bones, just perhaps different amounts.”
Vegeta recognized a certain prideful spirit in the other prince, it was enough to get him reminiscent of his own youth and his various attempts to prove himself.
“I’m still a little confused,” Bulma confessed. “Even distantly, I am surprised to hear relatives of the Saiyans survived. I thought they had all been wiped out.”
Her husband shifted in place, tucking his arms further into his form. “So did I,” he said cautiously. “Souljin vanished without a trace years ago. I had assumed Frieza or some other entity destroyed the planet. Clearly, I was mistaken,” Vegeta elucidated.
“I assure you, Prince Vegeta, that was intentional.”
The prince’s words prompted Vegeta to raise an eyebrow. The other members of the group also perked up their ears.
“After the destruction of Planet Vegeta, it was only natural to assume that Souljin would be targeted as well. We had to take action to prevent that.”
“How exactly?” Vegeta had no time for prattling.
“It is no secret Saiyan blood is built for fighting, however Soulan blood was built for the mind,” Zasso explained. “When the two cultures came together, that side ended up being more prevalent for some time. Our technological advancements have helped sustain life on Souljin, and so, knowing that we would be little match against the Frieza Force, the council and King Engei decided it would be best to use our technology to shield the planet.”
“Shield?” Gohan queried.
“For nearly sixty years, Planet Souljin existed inside of a honing shield that not only made it invisible to any and all outsiders, but undetectable as well.”
The scholar had more questions, but Vegeta made sure that none were asked.
“Thus, instead of coming to aid the Saiyans in their hour of need, King Engei and the rest of Souljin decided to play an intergalactic game of Hide and Seek?” Vegeta said with contempt.
Prince Zasso was about to answer; however, no words came out. Vegeta’s frustration was more than understandable to him. When he noticed his prince’s hesitance, General Taikan cleared his throat to respond himself.
“Your Highness,” General Taikan said respectfully, “you said it yourself. Souljin’s prowess in military matters left much to be desired at that time. Though the blood of the Saiyans still allows us greater strength than most species, combat was not something we were known for. You’ve seen firsthand the devastation caused by the Frieza Force. The devastation caused by the Saiyans that worked for him, such as yourself.”
Vegeta’s brows furrowed at Taikan’s boldness, but he could hardly lash out at the man for a truthful comment.
“Still,” Vegeta sneered, “better to die fighting than living life in a bed afraid.”
“Perhaps that is how you see it,” Taikan continued, “but King Engei felt differently. It was far more important to preserve the Souljinian people and culture than to die a losing battle.”
A scoff escaped the Saiyan Prince’s lips before Taikan added one more remark. “Not that it makes a difference to you, Your Highness, but Engei did arrange for at least one battalion of soldiers to be sent to help with Planet Vegeta’s defenses at the behest of your father. It was shortly before the planet’s destruction. My own father was leading that regiment sire, and what happened to them, I am not certain. We never heard from him or any of brigade again.”
Vegeta was quiet, offering no apologies but also offering no protests at the man’s great loss.
“Knowing what you know now about the fate of your people,” Taikan resumed, “can you honestly say if you had the chance to do things differently you wouldn’t consider an option that preserved the Saiyan legacy?”
Silence enveloped the group as Vegeta stared down the two guests. The fire in his eyes that burned only as the last of his kind could. “I am the Saiyan legacy, General. All that’s left of it.”
“And don’t forget about me!”
Cutting the tension with those words, Vegeta’s eyes darted to Goku waving like a fool, childish grin plastered on his face. The vein bulging out of the prince’s forehead increased in size ever so slightly. He heaved a heavy sigh of frustration, his palm pressed to his pulsing headache. “Yes well,” Vegeta began through clenched teeth, “Kakarot too I suppose—though he can hardly count with his limited understanding our Saiyan heritage.”
Goku took this as his cue to extend his hand to both men for a friendly shake. “It’s great to meet you both,” he said in earnest, “my name is Goku though. Vegeta’s the only one who calls me Kakarot.”
“It is your true Saiyan name.”
“Fair,” Goku answered, “but in my defense, I wasn’t aware that I even was Saiyan until I was older. Harder to change your name at that point!”
Both Zasso and Taikan didn’t quite know what to make of the cheerful warrior. He was so unlike the Saiyan Prince—affable, warm, and almost childlike. Completely different than their own understanding of the Saiyan culture.
General Taikan eyed Goku up and down. “We were unaware that any other full-blooded Saiyan lineages survived. I think we assumed any remaining ones were of royal progeny. Most intriguing.”
Vegeta recoiled. “Certainly not. I am Saiyan Elite—descended from generations of pure royal blood from the days of Planet Sadala. Kakarot is a Saiyan yes, but low-class.”
“Geeze, low shot…” Goku trailed off. The blow didn’t sting for too long, however. His Son grin reappeared almost instantly. “Still! How exciting. Even if you are distantly related to Vegeta here—what an incredible find.”
This demeanor greatly affected Prince Zasso, whose worried state melted the second Goku said those words. “Kakarot, I mean Goku,” he corrected, “what a treat to see that more than just Vegeta’s legacy endured. Low-class or elite, it matters not, we would be delighted to host you as well.”
Goku blinked. “Host?”
“Host?” Vegeta said nearly at the same time.
“Ah, forgive me. We’ve had such engaging conversation; I haven’t even been able to share our purpose for this visit,” the foreign dignitary said, almost embarrassed at his distraction. “The main reason for this voyage is to formally extend an invitation to visit Planet Souljin,” Prince Zasso illuminated.
The Saiyan Prince almost didn’t know how to react to the prospect. Neither did the rest of the Z Fighters who seemed to be surprised by the request.
“Prince Vegeta,” Zasso began again graciously, “please sir. I have a message from my father that he wanted me to give to you. If you’ll indulge me for a few minutes, let me play it.”
The Souljin Ambassador snapped a small contraption that revealed a video hologram, catching the attention of the Z Fighters immediately. With a small click of the device, a holographic image of the Souljin King materialized before them. At first glance, King Engei appeared to be kind and approachable. Though the man was in his eighties, evident by his long white hair flowing underneath a simple crown, he certainly seemed spritely. "Prince Vegeta, surviving Saiyans, and Earthlings,” the recording began, “I am delighted to have learned of your existence. I’ve enclosed this message for my son to deliver so that I may speak to you, since I am unable to in person.”
The Z Fighters listened intently to what the elder ruler had to say.
“My prince, I am unsure if you remember me, I had the pleasure of meeting you as a young boy, when I was a young king myself.”
Various glances in Vegeta’s directions observed his reaction, but there was none to be had as the stoic warrior stood emotionless, arms folded as usual.
“I can imagine this may all come as quite a surprise, Prince Vegeta,” Engei’s holographic recording continued.
“The news of King Vegeta's death and the destruction of Planet Vegeta left me devastated," King Engei's voice carried a mix of sadness and determination as he continued. "Knowing our relation to the Saiyans put us at risk with the Cold Force, despite our lesser physical strength, we knew that Souljin had a target’s on its back. In a difficult decision, we utilized Souljin's scientific advancements and implemented a shielding device that made it appear as if our planet had been destroyed. For nearly 60 years, we Souljinians remained hidden, focusing on strengthening our military and science divisions, ensuring a period of peace."
Realization dawned on the Z Fighters as they listened attentively. The Souljins had undergone a covert existence, utilizing their resources to prepare for the inevitable threats they faced. It was a strategy borne out of necessity, even if Vegeta perhaps saw it as cowardice.
"However, realizing that our resources and isolation could only take us so far, I made the decision to lift the shield a couple of years ago in hopes of making contact with other worlds, seeking alliances,” King Engei's voice continued, filled with hope. “We have slowly been integrating back into the galaxy, but we still have a lot of relationships to build to be close to where we were.”
“During his research in genetics, my head scientist, Dr. Niwa, made an astonishing discovery – the existence of living Saiyans. This revelation has been nothing short of a blessing, and I am grateful beyond words."
The Souljin King's voice carried sincerity and a desire for unity. "I wish to properly unite our two races during a grand celebration on Souljin. It is my great hope that both the Saiyans and Earthlings are open to learning more about our planet and its people. I extend an invitation to all of you to join us for an extended period. Let us forge an alliance, ultimately strengthening the bond between our races."
King Engei addressed Vegeta again, his voice filled with remorse. "Prince Vegeta, my biggest regret is that I couldn't have done more for your family,” the video gram emanated. The sincerity of the tone caught the Saiyan Prince off guard, prompting him to loosen his folded arms.
“But now,” the voice of the Souljin King caught his attention once more. “I have the opportunity to make amends and establish a new alliance. I’ve sent my son Zasso and our General Taikan as ambassadors to hopefully sway you to contemplate visiting Souljin. Along with a few gifts, for good measure.”
On cue, Prince Zasso turned to his retinue. With a snap of his fingers, several guards produced a chest that Zasso opened to reveal a bevy of gifts inside ranging from jewels to technology. Bulma’s eyes widened at the offerings, but no words came out.
“Prince Vegeta,” King Engei’s voice rang out for the last time, “I implore you to consider this offer. Family and legacy are everything to us, and I would stake my life that perhaps it means something to you as well.”
It was almost unnoticeable, but the comment did cause Vegeta to flinch momentarily.
“Please allow us the honor of hosting you with any other Saiyans or Earthlings of your choosing on Souljin. It would do this old man’s heart some good to see that we are not as alone in this universe as perhaps we thought. I thank you for your time and hope to see you all within the fortnight."
With that, the materialized form of King Engei dispersed into nothingness. As the video gram ended, the tension fell into a thoughtful silence. Vegeta's gaze narrowed in on where the hologram had appeared. The rise and fall of his muscles showcased his steadied breathing, deep in thought at the message that had been relayed to him.
Prince Zasso put the device back into his pocket and turned to the other royal once more. “I know this must be overwhelming news to discover, my prince, but I assure you my father’s earnestness to reunite is sincere.”
He pulled out a few of the presents from the chest, which he handed to Bulma next to him. “Lady Bulma,” he began politely, “though we don’t know much about Earth, we have seen firsthand the Capsule Corp. technology during our travels in space. Our research allowed us to conclude that you may have some interest in our own tech, which we have sampled here for you to use. Along with a few gems for good measure.”
Prince Zasso winked causing Bulma to giggle like a schoolgirl. A faint rumble brewed in Vegeta’s throat at the action.
“Prince Zasso,” Bulma stated, “this is all very generous. You seem so quick to trust us, however. Surely, this is uncustomary in your dealings with other planets?”
“I suppose it is,” Zasso conceded, “and yet my father has always been one for sentimentality. As you heard him say, family is of the utmost importance to him. I know that the bloodline ties are rather distant at this point, and yet, so much of our culture comes from our Saiyan roots. Who better to understand than a Saiyan?”
His gaze turned to Vegeta, hoping to see some semblance of a response, but the older man was still deep in thought. Zasso cleared his throat.
“We’ve included a video line that you may use for communication as well as a homing device for your spaceships to reach Souljin with ease,” Zasso said before pausing. “Forgive me, if you decide to venture to Souljin, it should allow for easy navigation. I don’t wish to presume anything.”
This prompted everyone to look upon the Saiyan Prince once more. Goku regarded Vegeta, who was still expressionless, and then looked back at the Souljin Ambassadors. Gazing one more time at his old friend and rival, the Son man put his hands on the back of his head. “Vegeta, what do you think?” he asked in earnest.
The other purebred finally grunted in recognition. The sound being the only thing audible from the prince in some time.
Prince Zasso, aware of the potential skepticism from Vegeta, cleared his throat and addressed the group. "I understand any reservations you may have, especially from your end, Prince Vegeta. However, I firmly believe that a partnership between Souljin and Earth would be mutually beneficial. If you agree to travel to Planet Souljin, no expense will be spared. Everyone who comes will have full access to our palace, its amenities, and a wide array of perks befitting esteemed guests such as yourselves.”
A sense of intrigue sparked among the Z Fighters as they listened to Zasso's words. The possibility of exploring the advanced technologies and luxuries of Planet Souljin piqued their interest.
The royal continued, his voice filled with enthusiasm. "In addition to the grand celebration, we would like to extend an invitation for you to witness our anniversary tourney, a prestigious event that draws great talent from across our world. It would be an excellent opportunity to witness and experience the remarkable skills and techniques displayed by our finest warriors.”
He paused briefly before adding, "Furthermore, our technological advancements would be made available for study to anyone who is interested. We believe that sharing knowledge and expertise can only strengthen the bonds between our races."
The potential research seemed to appeal especially to Bulma and Gohan.
General Taikan, joining the conversation, made a request of his own. "As the head of our military forces, I too would greatly appreciate the insight and expertise of several Saiyans in training our troops. Your unparalleled combat skills and warrior spirit would be invaluable in enhancing the capabilities of our soldiers."
The benefits seemed to outweigh the risks to many of the Z Fighters—even Goku looked enlivened at the idea of getting to share his battle expertise and have a chance to fight some new opponents.
Vegeta, in particular, found himself torn between his inherent skepticism and the chance to uncover a small piece of his lost heritage. He felt Bulma’s hand on his shoulder, gently squeezing her support no matter what. “It’s your call dear,” she whispered carefully.
Goku nodded at his old friend. “I’ll do whatever you decide, Vegeta.”
After a moment of contemplation, Vegeta nodded, his decision made. "Very well, Prince Zasso. I accept your invitation. Tell Engei that my family will travel to Planet Souljin and explore the possibilities of this alliance. I assume anyone else who wishes to come may do so as well.”
The softer tone the prince spoke with shocked even him, let alone those around him. Bulma unleashed a small smile at the decision and Prince Zasso and General Taikan both heaved sighs of relief and elation. “I couldn’t be happier to hear you say that Prince Vegeta,” Prince Zasso said shaking his hand. Vegeta rolled his eyes and quickly ended the handshake.
“This doesn’t mean an automatic alliance, just to be clear. I still am keeping an open mind.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to promise anything right now, just your willingness to come is most appreciated,” Zasso said earnestly. The military man next to him nodded in agreement.
“Fantastic news, Your Excellency,” General Taikan commented to Vegeta, clearing his throat to change the subject. “Prince Vegeta, if I may have a moment of your time, however, I do have a few questions around tactical strategy I have been most curious about and would love your perspective.”
As Taikan enveloped Vegeta and Goku into a probing discussion, Bulma made work of getting some help to bring the technology to the lab, leaving Prince Zasso to ponder his surroundings momentarily.
The Souljin Prince took his time examining the crowd, making mental notes as he did so. His gaze glanced at Trunks, briefly sizing him up as the other prince. Not as accustomed to imperial audiences as he was, that much was clear, the lavender-haired Saiyan seemed almost aloof if not disinterested.
Curious.
Trunks’ icy eyes met with Zasso’s amber ones, studying him carefully. Indifference slowly shifted into annoyance as the heir found himself less than impressed with the charismatic royal. A tiny smile shaped the foreign prince’s visage, recognizing the same look from Vegeta’s countenance earlier. Like father like son, it seems. The cheerful expression from Zasso only seemed to irritate the demi-Saiyan further.
Prince Zasso slowly trailed his orbs to the right of Trunks, transfixed by a flaxen-haired maiden at his side. The breath in his lungs hitched at the sight. The Souljin Ambassador’s tiny smile grew wider, mouth still closed, as he observed the other prince’s companion. His head tilted as he engulfed her entire stature head to toe. Marron seemed to take note of his gaze and lifted her eyes to meet his. As she did, Zasso’s grin flashed a mouth full of perfect teeth, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.
Trunks didn’t like the look on either of their faces. And he really didn’t like the fact that the ambassador was making his way over to them. To her.
“I must say,” Prince Zasso began with a polite bow, “if all Earthling women are as beautiful as you my dear, I may never leave this planet.”
Marron’s mouth dropped at the gracious compliment, shifting her head back and forth to make sure she was the woman he was actually talking to. Any doubts were quashed when Zasso reached for Marron’s dainty hand to place a tender kiss upon it. Their companions took note of the gesture. Goten was flummoxed, Bulla put her hands to her face blushing, Pan couldn’t hide her surprised, Uub was still processing it all, and Trunks…
Well, Trunks looked as if he could scream, but kept quiet as he turned white as a ghost.
“Your Highness,” Marron started off with a makeshift curtsy, her cheeks reddening rapidly. She wasn’t exactly sure what to do in this scenario; though royalty in name, it wasn’t like she ever had to bow to Vegeta. Although, come to think of it, he’d probably enjoy that. “Thank you. That’s very kind of you to say, Prince Zasso.”
“So proper,” he said with a light laugh, “no need for formalities, my lady, you may simply call me Zasso, Miss...?”
“Marron,” she answered.
“Marron,” Zasso repeated, placing one more kiss on her hand. “Lady Marron with the golden hair, it is an honor.”
A vein was about to burst on the forehead of the younger Saiyan prince, who at this point had closed his eyes in a silent rage, while Marron’s heartbeat thudded at a deafening decibel. The Souljin Ambassador noticed the seething Saiyan and turned to Trunks with a respectful beam. “You have a lovely mate, Prince Trunks,” he commented earnestly.
Trunks’ eyes shot open the instant Prince Zasso uttered those words, as he far too quickly shouted back, “She’s not my mate!”
He instantly regretted the animation in his voice when he saw a brief flicker of pain across Marron’s face, but she quickly regained her positive countenance.
“Trunks is correct,” Marron added with a sterner tone than before, “we aren’t together.”
“My apologies,” Prince Zasso repented with a small head tilt towards her. “I had just presumed someone as striking as you would be wedded to a prince,” he continued in the same suave manner as before.
Both Bulla and Pan let out faint sighs of admiration, grabbing the attention of Goten and Uub nearby. The latter fighter looked more defeated than annoyed, which was how the half-Saiyan appeared.
“You are kind, Zasso, but no—” Marron resumed, glancing at Trunks for a moment. “Just lifelong friends, but I am single,” she made sure to emphasize.
“A pity,” the Souljin Ambassador replied, eliciting some confusion from the blonde. He cleared his throat to clarify. “Were you a maiden on Souljin, I guarantee you would plenty of eligible suitors, especially with that extraordinary hair color of yours,” the dark-haired prince grinned, “dare I say, I’d throw my own hat into the ring.”
“Holy shit,” Pan cursed under her breath. This guy was smooth.
Trunks attempted to stop fuming in place. This guy was a joke.
Her pale complexion only grew redder as Marron waved her hand. “You flatter me,” she stated, “are blondes not common on Souljin?”
“No, quite rare in fact,” Zasso explained, “almost as rare as the beautiful shade of blue the princess possesses.”
The royal turned to face Bulla, dazzling grin, and all. Nervous laughter bubbled out of the heiress accompanied by an awkward smile. She held her flushing face in her hands, while Goten gave a side eye to the compliment.
“Well,” Marron resumed from before, “your culture sounds very fascinating, Prince Zas—I mean, Zasso.”
“I think I’m more interested in your planet’s culture,” he confessed, “Souljin has been isolated for so long, it seems we’ve missed out on quite the bevy of beauty out there in the galaxy.”
“So Zasso—” Trunks interrupted. “Tell me, does being an ambassador mean flirting your way through the cosmos or do you happen to do any diplomacy outside of that?”
“Trunks don’t be rude,” Bulla chastised. She groaned in embarrassment at his lack of decorum. The foreign dignitary laughed in response.
“Princess, it’s alright,” Zasso insisted, “your brother is humbling me, rightly so. I confess I do have an affinity for the fairer sex. I’m sure these gentlemen can agree.”
Both Goten and Uub ears perked up, a deep shade of red brimming on their cheeks. Bulla caught a flicker in Goten’s eyes, prompting her to turn and blush herself. Trunks seemed unfazed by it all.
“All that traveling and not one person you’ve flirted with offered to come back to marry you?” Trunks continued with a heavy amount of sarcasm.
“Perhaps I just haven’t met the right maiden yet…” the amber-eyed man confessed, looking right at the blonde in front of him.
The comments continued to both flatter and fluster Marron, unsure of what to say. In her self-conscious state, Marron sheepishly averted down towards his side, taking note of a strikingly sheathed weapon. She briefly lifted her eyes to meet the Souljin Prince’s gaze once more as Zasso flashed her an impeccably perfect smile. Marron didn’t know much about Souljin dentistry, or if they even had dentists, but the blonde swore up and down that his grin was nothing short of a work of art.
“You like what you see?” Prince Zasso asked, slowly removing the blade from the casing, his words carrying a few different meanings. He offered it up, holding each side with both hands to lie it flat for veneration. Marron was about to answer as the beautiful instrument laid out in front of her, practically begging to be touched. Unsure, she gently placed a finger along the sword, admiring its beauty. The steel was immaculate, the handle intricate yet regal, and the shine of the blade suggested great care by its master.
“How beautiful,” she remarked, reverently.
“Swordsmanship is a cherished skill on Souljin,” Prince Zasso shared, “martial arts and other types of combat have their place, but there is an art to honing ones skills with a blade.”
Trunks couldn’t roll his eyes far back enough in his head.
“I don’t know much about swords,” Marron responded as she continued to inspect the weapon, “but it does have a lovely design. Quite an impressive size too!”
“It is rather large, I suppose,” Zasso commented grinning at her enchanted demeanor. “Size isn’t everything when it comes to armaments, but I will say, it has given me a few advantages over the years.”
“Mine’s bigger,” Trunks muttered to himself, his hands buried beneath his underarms, but was a little louder than intended.
A moment of uninterrupted silence passed over. Trunks’ eyes immediately bugged out when he realized the others were staring at him intently. Marron looked horrified, blushing deeply. Goten shot his friend a peculiar glance whereas Bulla seemed disgusted. Both Pan and Uub appeared incredibly confused.
Although just as baffled, Prince Zasso politely veered his focus to the blanching demi-Saiyan. “I’m sorry,” he began as if he misheard, “I didn’t quite catch that?”
In an abrupt panic, Trunks attempted to recover. “My sword!” he exclaimed in haste.
“Your sword is…bigger?”
The other prince’s confusion caused Trunks to redden immensely, putting color on his whitened form. “No! I mean yes, I mean…how can we know for sure; we can’t exactly compare without seeing,” he rambled on, chuckling nervously. He was only making his case worse.
“Trunks,” Marron hissed.
“Oh, dear Dende,” Bulla whispered to the others, “he’s lost it.”
“WHAT I MEANT TO SAY,” Trunks shouted. “I-I also have a sword, that’s all,” the halfling shared looking down on the ground. “Yes, a sword,” he repeated a little more quietly, as to convince himself most of all.
His sibling and friends all were wide-eyed with mortification on behalf of the half-Saiyan. The Souljin Prince, however, seemed to finally see what Trunks was supposedly getting at.
“Oh, how wonderful,” Zasso commented with sincerity, “I do hope you’ll bring it with you to Souljin. I know we would be thrilled to have another skilled swordsman to train with.”
“Sure,” Trunks responded a tad too soon, still on edge, “why not!”
Goten placed both of his hands behind his head. “Wait Trunks,” he said, “you mean the one that Tapion gave you?”
The elder halfling glared in his direction so only Goten could see his face. “Yes,” Trunks answered almost with a snap, turning around with a softer expression.
Bulla laughed derisively. “Wait, the one that’s on your wall that you never use?” she asked, skeptically.
“You have a sword?” Pan finished the questioning, flabbergasted from the entire exchange.
He shot the two women the same glare. “Yes,” he said through a tightened mouth, “it’s been some time, but I have been wanting to expand upon my swordsmanship skills again.”
His sister guffawed at the notion of her brother, who she had never seen swing that sword a day in his life, suddenly showing interest. Prince Zasso didn’t seem to mind.
“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “We will have much to look forward to upon your arrival then,” the royal ambassador added.
“Can’t…wait…” Trunks countered; his teeth still tethered together.
“And what about you, Lady Marron?” the handsome prince wondered aloud. “Shall we be graced with your presence on Souljin as well?”
“Oh,” Marron started off unsure, “I’m not a Saiyan nor a fighter; I am not so sure I would add much value to the trip.”
“Rubbish,” Prince Zasso answered, “the invitation is for family and friends. We would be remiss to not welcome a close friend to the Saiyan royal family with open arms.”
Marron’s stomach flipped at the prince’s eagerness. “Well perhaps I should consider—”
“—Marron gets pretty bad motion sickness,” Trunks interrupted unprompted. “The flight in space may not be suited for someone with her condition.”
The now fuming Marron shot him a death glare that could rival her mother’s own. “My condition?” she sneered, embarrassed. “Trunks, I can answer for myself!”
“What’s your problem, Trunks?!” Bulla demanded, getting rather annoyed with his behavior.
As multiple eyes fell on him, a mixture of baffled and bothered glances, Trunks put a hand up to feign innocence. “I only meant that I know how you can get when traveling,” he insisted, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
The blonde produced one last grimace before changing her visage to a happier expression. “Zasso,” Marron said calmly, “I would be honored to attend. It sounds like a great new opportunity to explore a fascinating culture.”
The emphasis on the word she made sure Trunks could hear.
“I’m delighted to hear that, Lady Marron,” Zasso lifted his lips to her hands for a final time. “I shall be eager to see you once more.”
As he finished those words, the prince offered one last wink before walking away towards his Souljin companion. Marron’s eyes followed as they watched the handsome man leave, captivated to the point where she almost forgot about the embarrassment she suffered moments earlier.
Almost.
“I cannot believe you,” Marron whispered in a harsh tone to Trunks, her previous look all but gone from her countenance. “You’re impossible!”
“Marron I—” he faltered, unable to find the words to say.
“Don’t bother Trunks, I’m really not in the mood,” she said bitterly, turning away. He had really done it this time and Marron wasn’t sure what to make of it.
Noticing her temperament changing, both Pan and Bulla knew they needed to do some damage control. They grabbed either of Marron’s sides, whispering and giggling about the starry-eyed encounter with the foreign prince. Though it took a moment to feel the excitement, Marron soon laughed along with her female friends walking away, eager to find a private spot to chat with them about the handsome royal.
Leaving the men to themselves, the three stood in awkward stillness, unsure where to go from the encounter before. Uub looked around, uncomfortable with confrontation as always, and saw an opening. “Gee, I should…probably ask Sensei Goku…about…about that thing…” he muttered heading in the other direction, with only Goten and Trunks remaining.
And he was not about to let the younger Saiyan Prince off the hook so easily.
“Trunks, what was that all about?” Goten questioned his friend as the women and Uub made their way towards different sections of the yard. Trunks was still looking at the ground after his terse exchange with Marron, deep in thought. “Yo, Earth to Trunks!” Goten exclaimed, waving his hands in front of the lavender-haired man’s face. Trunks finally looked up.
“Huh?” he turned his attention to Goten, whose puzzled glance was not lost on Trunks.
“What was with you answering for Marron like that?” his friend asked, confused by Trunks’ odd reaction.
“Oh, I was—” there was no excuse in the world that he could come up with that would effectively say how he was feeling, how dumb he felt, and how utterly confused he was in that moment. The older halfling sighed.
“I’m actually not even sure,” Trunks responded quietly, starting to walk off on his own, still deep in thought.
Goten watched his friend’s fading form, even more perplexed than ever as to what was going on with him.
-=-=-=-
The day was winding down into dusk by the time things were wrapping up. As Prince Zasso and General Taikan bowed respectfully to Vegeta, they expressed their anticipation for the arrival of everyone within the fortnight. “Prince Vegeta,” Prince Zasso said respectfully, “my father will be so pleased to hear the news. We will be heading back to inform him and prepare for the festivities.”
Stoic as ever, Vegeta simply nodded his head. “I’m sure he’ll be…” the prince trailed off.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay a while and rest up before venturing back? I can’t imagine it’s a short trip,” Bulma proposed to them.
"A generous offer but we cannot; we must return to Souljin to help make the necessary preparations for your arrival," Zasso announced, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “It should be a wonderful time and we look forward to hosting you all.”
“We appreciate your time, Your Highness,” General Taikan said firmly with one last quick bow of his own.
With a final exchange of pleasantries, the ambassadors returned to their airship, the smooth humming of the vehicle signaling their take off. As the ship climbed towards the sky, the group below watched with careful curiosity. The Saiyan Prince himself couldn’t seem to tear away from the sight. Though no words came out of his mouth, Vegeta had much to say with just his expression. His face however, soon transformed to an annoyed look when he received a firm pat on the back from his rival.
“Man Vegeta, this has got to be so exciting for you!” Goku exclaimed with glee. Vegeta tersely tore away, a faint growl in his throat, leaving the other Saiyan pureblood in a state of confusion. “Vegeta?”
As he walked towards the house, Bulma approached Vegeta, her gentle touch bringing him to a standstill. It was clear she was concerned about his handle on everything, considering the lifechanging news. With him not being the most emotive person in the world, it was hard to get a read on things. Still, she was always willing to try.
"How are you feeling about all of this, Vegeta?" she inquired, her voice filled with genuine care.
Vegeta remained seemingly emotionless, his gaze distant and entrenched with indifference. "I suppose we'll have to see what awaits us on Souljin,” he answered back quietly.
Without further elaboration, Vegeta turned away, lost in his own thoughts, as he headed towards the gravity room—seeking out the solitude he craved. Bulma watched him for a moment, understanding the complex emotions brewing within him, and yet knowing that she could not empathize in this situation. She just hoped everything would lead to a chance for her husband to find a semblance of family outside of their own.
…
Slowly, the rest of the group dispersed. Bulla saw the pinkish-orange hues of the setting sun and took it as her cue to start her own ascension upwards. A gust of self-made wind lifted the heiress with a grace that few could match. She landed on the terrace and was close to heading inside to finally rest after the long day. The princess would have been successful too, had it not been for the presence of a persistent half-Saiyan.
“B-Chan wait…”
Though her hand made it to the glass, she never turned the handle. Her body rotated to see the ebony-haired man near the spot where they kissed, wondering if he was aware. With the fading sun forming a golden outline around him, Goten looked especially handsome, almost reminiscent of his appearance in his Super Saiyan form. Even in his dirty training clothes he managed to be so mind-numbingly charming. She sighed. Half-annoyed, half-amused.
“About earlier,” Goten began again, “there’s something I wanted to say.”
“Goten, we don’t have to—” Bulla started but was interrupted.
“That headlock,” he continued, “you were smart to think on your feet like you did.”
Bulla blinked, not expecting him to refer to that part of their spar. “Huh?” she questioned, not shielding her stunned expression.
Goten offered a kind smile. “The headlock,” he started to say again, “good work using your body to throw me down with you. I’ll admit, it definitely caught me off guard.”
The heiress didn’t know what to say in response, staring blankly at the man in front of her.
“Only advice I have,” her fellow hybrid resumed, “next time try aiming for the wrist to break it. Arm would be best if you can reach it, but wrist will likely be closer.”
He was giving her battle tactics at a time like this!?
“I’ll—” she began, still unsure, “—try to keep that in mind.”
A short wave of silence fell over them both. Goten quietly inhaled her all too familiar waft of coconut, slowly determining it was now one of his favorite scents. As he observed her defenses lowering a bit, the older halfling felt compelled to bring up the elephant in the room.
“I’m sorry by the way,” he added softly. Bulla’s cerulean eyes opened wide.
“Why are you sorry?” the princess wondered.
Goten shifted, rubbing his arm. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he confessed.
“Oh,” her voice trailed off in response. Her gaze met the ground as her cheeks flushed pink. “You—didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Bulla answered, “sorry if I made you feel like that.”
“You didn’t,” Goten responded almost too quickly.
The two stared each other down, the fading colors of the day bathing them in an orangish hue. “I just,” the older demi-Saiyan continued, “I just like being around you, B-Chan. I don’t want to jeopardize that for anything.”
“I-I like being around you too, Goten.”
“Good.”
He smiled at her in that sweet way he always did. Goten stepped forward to pull her into a second hug, more brazen than the one before, likely due to Vegeta no longer being in the same immediate vicinity. Bulla felt herself tighten the embrace without warning, surprising both her and the man in front of her.
As she latched onto him, Goten briefly allowed himself one moment of peace before releasing her. Bulla gazed up into his eyes, eliciting a tender look that made every ounce of her melt on the inside. He tore away to face the railing of the balcony, observing the city briefly as if he was taking it in for the first time. “We’ll talk soon, B,” he promised.
The demi-Saiyan ignited his aura, close to taking off, until a gentle voice derailed that plan.
“Goten,” Bulla began tucking loose locks behind her ear, “if Trunks’ call hadn’t interrupted us, what do you think would’ve happened?”
The question clearly surprised Goten, who froze in place trying to process exactly what Bulla was asking. Part of him knew he had opened himself up to having that conversation with her, yet he had hoped they could have just kept it surface level. But Goten owed her that much, at least. A thick sigh escaped, as he rotated back to face the princess who studied him with both curiosity and a little trepidation.
“Maybe it’s best not to go down that train of thought,” the other half-Saiyan replied gently.
Onyx eyes traced up and down her form, seemingly betraying his own beliefs.
Her heart thumped, apprehensive of what he was saying, but Bulla desired a more substantial answer than that. She fidgeted, nerves showcasing themselves through rapid taps by her fingers on her arms. Bulla took a deep breath. “Because you didn’t want to?” she questioned, fearing the worst and yet, still hoping for the best.
Goten’s gaze returned to meet the princess’ head on, extending a small smile. It was clear by his expression he was experiencing multiple emotions at that moment. She was as well. Those luminous eyes he cherished so much were staring at him in awe and wonder. Staring yet again as if he could do no wrong, even though Goten knew he had done plenty wrong in his life. The elder hybrid could barely think straight with her looking the way she did. He inhaled deeply through his nose, grin intact, bracing himself for his response to her.
“No Bulla,” he responded in a calm tone dripping with authenticity, “not because I didn’t want to.”
A quiet, yet audible gasp emitted from heiress’ mouth. The pulsating heartbeat in her chest increased tenfold, trying in vain to burst out of her ribcage.
“Goten,” she murmured, “what are you—?”
“We should really start getting ready for the trip to Souljin,” he responded changing the subject for the third time. Goten pivoted towards the opposite side, his aura flaring as he prepared for takeoff. Though she couldn’t see him from behind, Bulla took note of his ears perking up, indicating his signature smile spreading on his face.
“Goten…” the bluette repeated softly.
“Should be a big adventure,” Goten continued, with an optimistic tone that made him seem seven once more. Bulla’s breath caught in her throat. He cocked his head towards her, confirming her earlier suspicion about his beaming self. That intense gaze, she thought, the sunset making his ebony-colored orbs seem tinted with orange. It took the wind right out of her.
“See you, Princess.”
Bulla barely had time to process as Goten sped into the sky, her chest pulsating from his dizzying words. Her breathing intensified feeling just as wired up as she did earlier that day before heading into her shower.
Of all the things he could have said—he just had to say princess.
-=-=-=-
The exhaustion of the entire day hit Goten all at once as he arrived home to his apartment. In the elevator, he leaned back against cool metal, waiting to eagerly shed his clothes and hop in the very shower that Bulla chastised him for not taking earlier.
It was a thought that made him smile.
Making his way down the hall, he could faintly make out the shape of a person sitting near his apartment door. He wasn’t sure if it was a neighbor needing sugar or old man Yusuke looking for one of his nine cats again. Either way, he didn’t think much of it initially. As he approached, however, the familiar yellow hue of the figure’s outfit made it all too apparent who was waiting for him at the foot of his entrance.
Someone he had been avoiding for weeks.
“Goten!” Valese waved as she slowly rose to meet him. Pulling the stunned man into a quick hug he didn’t really return; Goten couldn’t even fake his shock at seeing his ex at his apartment.
“Valese,” he began surprised, “what are you doing here?”
The model flashed her brilliant smile as she smoothed out her dress. “I hadn’t heard from you lately and was in the neighborhood,” she answered happily, “thought I’d drop by to see if you wanted to hang out.”
An immense rush of guilt plagued the hybrid’s mind. His lack of communication was intentional, but he never supplied a reason. Although the two of them were hardly official, his drop in contact was certainly noticed. The stunned expression on his face prompted Valese to continue.
“Is everything okay with you?” the brunette questioned; her concern genuine. Goten sighed. Ghosting wasn’t his style, but it seemed to be the only way he could process things the past few weeks. Even though he wasn’t as bad as Trunks when it came to avoiding tough emotional conversations, the second Son certainly wasn’t much better. The words were lodged in his throat, begging to be released but straining to do so.
“Goten?” she asked in a tone that was neither angry nor demanding. Her sweet voice breaking him out of his head. It was now or never.
“Valese,” Goten finally said, “we can’t.”
He expected her to react disappointed, but the model continued as if nothing had changed. “If you’re busy that’s fine!” Valese maintained with a wave of the hand. “Maybe we can plan something for next week…” the girl was persistent if not oblivious.
“Valese,” the demi-Saiyan repeated in a firmer tone, which grabbed her attention. “We can’t. I’m sorry,” he resumed, “it’s not fair of me to leave you hanging, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I don’t—”
He exhaled deeply, struggling to say something that could potentially dampen her happiness, yet he knew he needed to rip off the band aid. “I don’t think this time we can get back together.”
A faint beam reappeared on the brunette as silenced enveloped the two. She took a deep breath. “I see,” Valese stated quietly.
“I should have been more direct,” Goten continued. He sighed, embarrassed at his behavior. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t.”
“It’s okay, Goten—I understand. It’s not in your nature to hurt anyone’s feelings.”
Goten seemed sincerely touched by the observation, though still felt a pang of guilt. “Even so,” he began again, “I haven’t been clear. I do that sometimes.”
He knew he had the tendency to try and push conflict to the wayside instead of hitting it directly on. Though Goten always kept his word, he also was afraid of being honest with himself at times and by extension, the people around him when he wasn’t sure. That indecisiveness was his greatest limitation.
Valese smiled at him, lovely as ever, and nodded in understanding. “May I ask why?” she wondered harmlessly.
The question caused Goten’s face to pale. If the situation with Valese wasn’t clear, the burgeoning situation with Bulla was especially unclear. Though he knew the hourglass on their connection had run out of sand long ago, he couldn’t deny his rapidly increasing feelings for Bulla were the catalyst. And then there was the upcoming intergalactic trip to Souljin; the last thing he wanted was to go into that adventure burdened by the ghost of his past.
He supposed that was really the only part she needed to know.
“Heading to outer space for an extended stay and not exactly sure when I’ll be back,” Goten answered straightforwardly, yet avoiding disclosing certain details.
“Space?” her pretty brown eyes blinked with curiosity.
The ebony-haired man knew it had to sound ridiculous to a normal human. “I know it sounds convenient, but it’s the truth,” Goten admitted. He softly touched Valese’s shoulder, the act saying a thousand words unspoken. This was really going to be the last time. “More than that though,” he added, “I’ve realized that we just aren’t in that same place anymore.”
She almost interrupted him, but the half-Saiyan powered through.
“We’ve given it a few tries, Val—but if we don’t put an end to it, neither of us will ever be able to move on,” Goten averred, “I think you know that as much as I do.”
“Goten,” the model whispered, eyes widening.
The hand still planted on her shoulder gave a tight squeeze. “Just,” he hesitated to make sure his next words were kind, “don’t wait up for me. You deserve someone who can give you their full self.”
Valese inspected the man in front of her, the earnest look in his eyes telling her everything she needed to know. “You’ve always been so nice to me, Goten,” his ex-girlfriend conceded. The brunette leaned in for one last hug that Goten returned this time. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” she whispered, “on Earth or wherever else.”
Perhaps I have.
The hybrid man gave her one last squeeze before releasing her, a small smile forming on his face. “I hope you do too,” he replied in earnest.
He felt her lips on his cheek briefly, as the woman turned and waved goodbye. “Make sure you bring lots of oxygen with you in space—I hear they don’t have a lot!” she called out as she faded away. Goten couldn’t prevent the chuckle that escaped his lips. One thing was for certain, he’d miss that colorful commentary. Despite that, a weight felt lifted.
Goten studied his ex, her model strut evident in every step, as she walked down the hallway in the direction of the elevator. For a fleeting moment, there was a twinge of wistfulness inside his stomach of the good times the two shared together at one point. But the guilt about their connection that ate at him for so long, the fear of letting go…these were no longer sensations Goten was experiencing.
For the first time in a long time, he felt peace.
He slowly entered the quiet apartment, tossing his bag to the side without much care. It had been too long of a day to worry about his typically clean routine. Doing the same action with his shirt, the half-Saiyan made his way towards the bathroom to hop into the shower after fully disrobing.
As the hot water poured over his aching muscles, Goten allowed himself to reflect on the morning’s events for the first time with clarity. The thought of Bulla beneath him produced a heated glow on his visage. It felt like a lifetime between that moment and the current one. Though he was careful to choose his words in his response to her, Goten all but said that he wanted to kiss her.
What would she think of him if he said he wanted to do more than that?
Goten shook off the notion, instantly rendering the water cold to snap him out of whatever trance he was in. He stepped out of the shower and dried off quickly before pulling up a pair of boxers before bed. Sliding under the sheets, a tranquil wave of blue filled his mind, lulling him to sleep. As he drifted, Goten nestled firmly into the pillow, daring for just a moment the chance to envision aqua tresses sprawled out on it next to him. The halfling inhaled the imaginary locks and swore he could smell coconut.
Entangled in the idea of her, Goten fell asleep to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slowing down to a near motionless tempo, but nonetheless steady and firm. The vibrations clear as day.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
Prin-cess, Prin-cess.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 6 and we have a little jealousy in the MIX. Honestly, in spite of the long wait time, I was so excited for this chapter because it’s one of my favorite Trunks moments in the story. Nothing like a handsome alien prince making a move for your girl to get a fire lit up under your ass!!
This concludes I suppose the first part in our series—it’s been fun setting the stage and I’m pumped to up the ante. Thank you all for the incredible support and encouragement.
Chapter 7: As they travel into space, the gang works to pass the time. Goten and Vegeta have a conversation.
And here…we…go!
-SonChan
Chapter 8: Chapter 7: Ad Astra
Summary:
Chapter 7: As they travel into space, the gang works to pass the time. Goten and Vegeta have a conversation.
Notes:
Disclaimers: Per usual, I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the concept of Planet Souljin.
Author’s Note: Holy cannoli! I can’t believe this story has over 1k hits on AO3 and just as many hits on FF! This is insane. I’m humbled, honored, flummoxed—you name it, I feel it!! Thank you all for tuning in so far. In a lot of ways, these beginning chapters have set the stage and we’re about to be in for a wild ride of hidden romance, action/adventure, drama, misunderstandings, and some good ol’ Saiyan lore.
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Lucky Stars, ad astra
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 7: Ad Astra
25 years earlier…
It wasn’t the dark that Goten was afraid of, but rather the unknown.
At age four, the young halfling believed he had overcome much in his short life, yet it became inexplicably apparent that his first overnight at Capsule Corp. was unsettling him deeply. Trunks had dozed off the second he hit the pillow on his bed, leaving Goten in the bunk under him awake and alone with his thoughts. The unfamiliar creaks and clatters of a bedroom that wasn’t his only made the young boy’s nerves multiply.
He turned his head, clutching a baby blanket he had brought from home for protection, as he observed the faint light peeking out from under the door. Trunks insisted he didn’t need a nightlight, though Goten had several in his own room back near Mount Paozu. The small hybrid wasn’t sure if Trunks was simply braver since he was older or if he just wanted to appear that way to his friend. No matter the truth, Goten shook when his little eyes detected some footsteps emanating out from the hallway.
Two small shadows stopped directly in front of the door and Goten immediately hid underneath his baby blanket, leaving a microscopic hole for him to see exactly what kind of monster lurked outside. In the air the sound of a latch clicked, the door creaking open to reveal the shadowed form of Vegeta briefly checking in on the boys. Goten forgot to breathe as he swore he made eye contact with the fearsome prince through his blanket. Though Vegeta had always been a rather intimidating authority figure, the darkened outline of the elder Saiyan seemed almost malevolent. Even so, Goten heard him hmphed as the door slowly closed once more, and the young boy sighed in relief.
Goten found himself at a crossroad. He certainly would have preferred it if Bulma were the one to be awake; she was always so nice to him. Still, Goten surmised that in the light Vegeta wasn’t as scary as he appeared to be in the dark.
Edging off the bottom bunk, the Son boy slowly made contact with the ground, his bare feet reveling the soft carpet in the foreign bedroom. Looking up at his friend in the top bunk, Goten sighed gently at Trunks’ drooling face, the sight leaving no doubt that the kid was deep in sleep.
“Trunks,” he whispered in hopes that maybe he could wake his slumbering friend, but alas, there was no response. He held his blanket securely, attempting to steady himself.
Determined to try to calm his nerves, the only person Goten knew was awake could be heard adjusting the faucets in the kitchen at the end of the hallway. Braving the dark trek from the bed to the doorway, Goten quickly unlatched the door and shut it behind him, his baby blanket in tow.
Warily, he crept down the long corridor; the silhouettes on the wall from the diminished lighting took shapes of creatures that Goten would see in his nightmares. He gulped as the grip on his blanket stiffened further. The youngest Son forced his focus solely on the light at the end of the hallway, the brightness of the kitchen beckoning the small boy to its entrance.
Upon entering the kitchen, Goten took note of Vegeta standing over the sink, continuously refilling his water glass after drinking it. By the sweat on his brow and the towel around his neck, it was clear the elder Saiyan had just finished training. Goten was about to speak to get the man’s attention, but after finishing the mouthful he took from his glass, Vegeta acknowledged his presence.
“Go back to bed, boy,” the Saiyan Prince muttered taking another sip of water. "You should be sleeping, not lurking around like a lost puppy."
When he didn’t hear an immediate response, Vegeta shifted his frame in Goten’s direction. The Son boy cast his sight downwards, continuing to clutch his baby blanket tight. His lower lip trembled, the gnawing sensation of homesickness bubbling up inside. A heavy sigh released into the air. “I can’t sleep,” Goten confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “I miss my mom and Gohan.”
“Tch,” Vegeta let out a signature scoff. Leave it to one of Kakarot’s offspring to be so needlessly sentimental. “It’s one night away from home,” he began again, “surely you can handle that.”
His tone, while harsh, was his small attempt to be encouraging. Tact was never the prince’s forte. The younger Saiyan’s face fell, unsure if he could indeed handle such a task.
“Now go back to Trunks’ room and quit bothering me,” Vegeta finished.
Vegeta gulped down another swig of water and wiped his mouth, assuming when he turned around that Goten would’ve already heeded his orders. Yet there he stood; the small carbon copy of his great rival, whose eyes bore into him with a sadness that seemed profound. Another scoff escaped his lips.
“Don’t be like that,” he chided, “where’s your Saiyan pride, boy?”
Goten’s eyes softened. “My…pride?”
“Yes, pride—do you understand the word?”
“Like lions,” the young boy said sweetly. He loved lions! All animals. He just didn’t know what kind of lions Saiyans were. Goten always thought Saiyans were more like monkeys. Gohan once told him he had a tail when he was born. How cool that must have been.
“No, like your heritage,” Vegeta said sternly. The boy loosened in place, perplexed.
“What’s heritage, Uncle Vegeta?”
“I’ve told you not to call me that.”
“Sorry Uncl—I mean Vegeta,” Goten sheepishly stumbled, “does it have to do with hair?”
“No,” Vegeta sneered, “it’s who you are. A Saiyan.”
“So, my harry-tage—”
“Heritage.”
Goten winced at the correction. “My heritage,” he correctly repeated this time, “that’s also…my pride?”
Vegeta put his glass in the dishwasher and walked over to the boy. He folded his arms in disapproval, the furrowing of his brows intimidating Goten even more up close. “You really know nothing about any of it, do you?” the Saiyan Prince asked him pointedly.
The hybrid sunk his head. “I’m sorry,” Goten felt dumb with the larger man standing over him like that.
“Suppose it’s to be expected with that mother of yours and your brother’s nose buried in some book,” he muttered loud enough for Goten to hear, but the boy was too young to understand. Vegeta sighed. “You really shouldn’t be up, Goten. Go back to sleep.”
He started to take off, but Goten’s head was still staring at the floor. The prince rolled his eyes. “That wasn’t a suggestion,” Vegeta muttered, annoyed. Goten finally looked upwards, big puppy dog eyes meeting the harsh gaze peering down on him.
“Can you tuck me in, Vegeta?”
“Can’t you tuck yourself in, brat?”
“No silly,” Goten said with a light laugh, “I’m the kid. Kids don’t tuck themselves in.”
Silly?! How dare he call me that, the Saiyan Prince thought. “Didn’t Bulma already tuck you both in?”
“I’m not in bed anymore though—my mommy always tucks me in again.”
Vegeta sneered.
“Let me guess, your mother prepares you a glass of warm milk and reads you a bedtime story? Perhaps when she tucks you in, she sings you a lullaby?”
“She does!”
His sarcastic tone was absolutely lost on the boy. Vegeta groaned as his palm flattened on his forehead to his chin. The dark eyes of the prince focused on the child’s own set, seeing a look that reminded him far too much of Kakarot. As if his appearance wasn’t enough!
“I’m not about to prepare you a drink, nor am I singing,” Vegeta continued, his voice severe. When the young boy hung his head in defeat, it struck a chord. A resigned sigh released from the older Saiyan’s gut. “Though I suppose I can tell you a quick story,” he added.
“Yay! A story!” Goten beamed, happily appeased.
“This is only so you get to bed and stop pestering me,” Vegeta retorted, “especially since you are woefully unaware of your own culture.”
“What’s cul—”
“Goten,” the stern gaze of the prince quickly silenced the younger halfling. As Vegeta strolled past him, Goten remained in place, prompting the other man to stop when he realized he wasn’t being followed. “What now?”
Arms raised, blanket clutched in hand, Goten faced Vegeta with a knowing look.
“I’m not carrying you.”
Immediately, the boy set his arms down and ran up to catch the prince as he resumed making his way towards his son’s room.
They reached their destination, Vegeta putting a finger to his lips to remind Goten to be quiet. His eager nodding assured the prince that he was understood. Snoring away, Trunks was still out cold on the top bunk as Goten and Vegeta settled on the bottom bunk. At the far edge of the bed, the elder Saiyan folded his arm, maintaining a fair distance away from the boy.
This did little to deter Goten, who leaned in clutching his blanket around his knees as Vegeta started to share some riveting tale from old Saiyan lore.
He talked of the days of Planet Sadala, the original legend of the Super Saiyan, the extremely edited version of his days brokering planets…soon Vegeta realized he had more than ample material to keep the boy interested. Before he knew it, nearly twenty minutes had passed.
Vegeta half-expected the young Son to be drifting into sleep, yet the boy’s absorbed attention impressed the stoical warrior. Trunks usually was entertained for the first few minutes but would soon lose interest. Goten hung onto every word out of the Saiyan Prince’s mouth. Of course, the boy had his own questions too.
“Where is Planet Sadala?”
“It doesn’t exist anymore.”
“What about Planet Vegeta?”
“It also doesn’t exist anymore.”
The dark-haired elder was about to scold the child for being a nuisance and interrupting him, until one last question took him by surprise.
“Unc—I mean, Vegeta,” Goten began, his fingers gripping his blanket tightly.
“What now Goten?”
“Will we ever meet more Saiyans?” Goten wondered, eyes beginning to droop with fatigue.
White-knuckled at the mattress’ edge, Vegeta looked down, knowing the answer already. “No,” he responded somewhat too bluntly. Caught in his throat was a low sigh. “They’re all dead.”
Dead was a harsh word for a toddler yes, but true, nonetheless. A beat of silence passed as the Saiyan Prince was deep in thought. Though exhausted, one of Goten’s eyes remained open to try and catch the older man’s gaze. His quiet breathing stalled for a moment.
“Like my daddy?” the boy questioned softly.
This promptly caused Vegeta to meet Goten where he lay, a flicker of regret evident on his face. He hesitated a moment before responding. “Yes,” the prince relayed almost inaudibly.
Goten’s eyes flashed for a millisecond, nearly imperceptible, but then slowly closed completely; he snuggled into the pillow with his ever-faithful blanket at his side. Exhaling a deep breath, the young boy displayed a small smile, much to the surprise of Vegeta.
“Maybe they’re all friends up there,” he suggested innocently, “and they get to fight and play all day together.”
Vegeta was struck by the optimistic comment from the child. The likelihood of many Saiyans keeping their body was slim to none, but Vegeta reasoned that even few might have made it through. A pleased smirk returned to his visage. The thought of Kakarot blithering about with his forefathers, who’d likely be confused out of their damned minds, brought no small amount of amusement to him.
“Maybe,” he said quietly. Goten’s ears perked up at the notion that his idea could be correct. The dark-haired man cleared his throat. “Now get to bed,” he instructed tersely getting up to leave.
“Thanks for the story, Uncle Vegeta…”
Vegeta was about to correct the boy again, but as he faced him, all he saw was his peaceful form, not much different from his own child in the bunk above, starting to drift to sleep with a wide smile. A smile that certainly hadn’t been there earlier in the evening. The gruff man brayed but didn’t say anything this occasion, letting the comment slide. His silent acknowledgement that perhaps there were still some who appreciated the near forgotten stories of the past.
He stepped lightly towards the door, looking back one last time. Vegeta often pondered what this next generation would do with the legacy of the Saiyans. The prince knew he wouldn’t be around forever, and with his death, he worried the entire race’s heritage would die with him. It was hard to imagine Trunks carrying on that torch, despite his greatest wish that he would. Yet, a faint glimmer of hope shone as the moonlight hit Goten’s young face, freshly drifting into slumber. The excitement he demonstrated made Vegeta think that perhaps all was not lost; perhaps the Saiyan legacy could live on if someone cared enough.
How curious that the son of his greatest rival could be the one to do just that.
-=-=-=-
Vegeta was brought back from his daydream of the past when the laughter of his children combined with Goten’s filled the air. It took a minute for the Saiyan Prince to reassess where he was, having been particularly deep in thought. In the yard near the hanger, the group was gathered to travel to Souljin, awaiting the finishing adjustments to the spaceship. Most of the human Z Fighters were unavailable or disinterested in a monthlong stay on a foreign planet, yet the next generation seemed especially taken with the opportunity.
Bulma was happy to show off her latest luxury spacecraft model to everyone in attendance. State of the art engine and facilities, this certainly was an impressive ship. Two floors with plenty of bedrooms on each, complete with its own gravity room, kitchen, entertainment area, laboratory and gym—the next couple of days journey to Souljin would at least be in style.
Those traveling consisted of Vegeta’s family, Goku, Gohan, Goten, Pan, Marron, Uub, and Piccolo. Both Chi-Chi and Videl decided to stay behind, the former due to feeling a bit out of her element with the long trek and the latter to keep her company and ensure her father’s dojo didn’t burn to the ground without her. Piccolo would’ve rather stayed on Earth but had been persuaded by Gohan to tag along. Though Krillin was skeptical of letting his baby girl travel without either him or Eighteen, Marron insisted she would be fine without them. If his work schedule had not been so demanding, and if Eighteen possessed a desire to go without him, the two would have been open to the idea.
The way Vegeta saw it though, the less people going the better.
He hardly had time to monitor everyone’s decorum and thanked his lucky stars that the usual miscreants of Yamcha, Hercule, and Majin Buu all had the foresight to remain on Earth. Yamcha would have been Yamcha, and that was far too much for Vegeta’s taste. It gave Vegeta a headache just thinking about Buu attempting to interact with foreign dignitaries. The royal knew part of this upcoming reunion would deal with some political discussions and he didn’t need to be worrying about some fool mucking it all up.
Meanwhile, Bulma was droning on about her workers trying to get the spaceship ready for launch, but the prince was in his own little world. His attention was completely captivated by the scene before him. As his children continued to joke around with his rival’s second son, Vegeta reflected on what a constant fixture Goten had been in their lives.
Nearly joined at the hip, Goten and Trunks had been best friends since birth. Even with Goten having his own brother, it was apparent how close the two were. Vegeta questioned if this ever played into the slight responsibility he on occasion felt for the young man. With Kakarot dead those first seven years of his life, Goten was left without a true father figure; his older brother still just a child himself. His maternal grandfather a kind but utterly hopeless fool (so Vegeta thought) and his mother could wake the dead with her ferocity. Vegeta shuddered at the notion of growing up in a home with Chi-Chi at the helm.
He never went out of his way to provide for the boy, but on the off-chance Goten was unable to sleep when he spent the night, Vegeta sporadically shared stories of the Saiyans to the willing child. For a time, he sparred with Goten as a teenager when Kakarot had yet again vanished for a period of time. And while it was a rare occurrence for Goten and Trunks to get too seriously in trouble, Vegeta had no qualms about disciplining the Son man when needed. In fact, that was something he enjoyed immensely. Too few people feared him these days.
Reflecting yet again in his direction, Vegeta silently simmered. The spitting image of Kakarot, save with a touch more common sense, Goten excelled when it came to social situations. While his intelligence wasn’t on the same level as Gohan, it was clear he had a better understanding of other people; something even the Saiyan Prince admired in a way.
Yet, the boy squandered it on an active dating life and a cushy job that required no real thought nor effort. “Tch,” Vegeta muttered under his breath. For all the potential he carried, Goten had a lack of drive along with a penchant for hedonistic endeavors. A fatal flaw in the prince’s opinion. Capability meant nothing if it were to not be cultivated. What a waste of what could be, he thought.
Not that everyone saw it that way.
“Goten, you’re such a goof…”
The sweet timbre of his daughter’s voice brought the Saiyan Prince out of his reverie. Her laughter rang out like a melody, a characteristic she most certainly inherited from Bulma rather than himself. He took note that Trunks had meandered over towards the blonde spawn of Krillin and Eighteen, leaving Bulla and Goten all alone. Vegeta continued to watch as the youngest hybrid playfully pushed on Goten’s chest, the man’s own laughter joining hers. The royal felt his set of orbs race to the back of his head.
He wasn’t blind; his daughter had been smitten with the second Son man from the time she could crawl. Even Bulla’s childhood stuffed animal was named after him. Though she would outwardly deny it whenever the subject was brought up, Vegeta knew nothing had changed. The brat’s constant appearance in the Briefs household did little to help there, both from her formative years and her teenage ones. Still, Goten never seemed to want to explore that avenue, no doubt likely due to their age difference and his connection to their family. Even if he had expressed some notion of interest, Vegeta would’ve deterred him immediately.
In spite of this, as soon as she turned eighteen, Bulla seemed to have a completely different connection with Goten. Her shyness grew more confident, more commanding. The sheer presence of the princess was felt by all around her, Goten being no exception to this phenomenon. Were Vegeta a less observant man, he may not have noticed the diminished fraternal quality to their association, but rarely anything got past him. There was a change; and while he had no definitive proof of anything, the suspicious behavior he observed recently from the two halflings certainly had him on guard. Vegeta had his inklings, though.
Bulla’s birthday in particular was a telling evening. Since that night, he paid more attention to his daughter’s increasingly distracted behavior. Time to time, she’d vanish without so much as a word, only to return unannounced hours later. It certainly had the pureblood on high alert.
Perhaps their bond was indeed familial and perhaps that is all it would ever be. At his core though, Vegeta could see it clear as day: Bulla was far from the only one of the two hybrids visibly taken with the other.
“Vegeta!”
His attention turned to the shrill voice of his wife, who was tapping her foot in annoyance. “Were you even listening to a thing I said?” Bulma asked, her frustration evident. There was too much that had to be done for the launch to waste time reexplaining herself.
“Apologies,” he answered with zero enthusiasm, but for the prince to express regret, even with the improper tone, Bulma was impressed. “Continue,” Vegeta followed up with. While he listened to her a little more attentively than before, the Saiyan never took his eyes off the third-class warrior.
Across the way, however, his staring did not go undetected.
“Why do I get the feeling your dad is always watching me?” Goten said carefully to the blue-haired woman at his side. Bulla watched her father in the distance before returning her gaze towards Goten, a broad smile forming.
“Because he probably is,” she answered with a wicked glean. The bluette took no small amount of joy at seeing Goten out of sorts.
Ever since their encounter after the Souljin Ambassadors arrived, things had mellowed out a bit for the two. Their mutual understanding of the other’s attraction almost made it easier to be around each other. Bulla was glad the awkwardness subsided; she missed being able to joke with Goten and was thrilled at the prospect of continuing their friendship. And yet, even though that part was true, a small iota of hope planted in her heart than perhaps this trip might yield some developments in other areas of their connection.
Goten smirked slightly at her retort. “The watchful eye of a Saiyan Prince,” he began again, “leaves me no room for error.”
“I think you’ll manage just fine,” Bulla said, confident in his abilities.
“Yeah?” Goten’s signature family grin grew wide in amusement. “Gonna protect me with that Saiyan Princess juju if I can’t?”
Bulla groaned. “Not you too,” she continued in an exasperated tone, “I have to hear it enough from Trunks!”
His chuckling did little to change the princess’ bothered look. “Well, the man has a point,” Goten added, “you do tend to have an effect on people.”
Turquoise eyes twinkled with interest. “Oh?” Bulla wondered, inching in just a bit closer. Goten’s face subsided from playful to stoic at the newfound closeness. She tilted her head upwards, giving him the ideal view of her irises. “So tell me,” the heiress resumed, “what kind of effect do I have on you?”
A sharp breath sliced the thick tension in half. Goten, with a learned restraint, remained in place; not leaning into the princess despite her ever-looming figure edging further into his frame. His jaw tightened, the faintest strain on his muscles. Another more controlled inhale steadied the older hybrid as he turned away, a satisfied grin upon his face.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he murmured almost to himself, but still enough for the bluette to hear. Without moving his head, Goten’s eyes once more glanced at the Saiyan Princess, whose leer increased in size.
“Maybe I would,” she sang.
They both contemplated each other with bemused expressions. An almost challenging standoff, the two stifled a laugh. Goten found himself unconsciously trailing down the princess’ frame, taking in the skintight white tank she was wearing. And certainly, taking in with how it also perfectly cupped her cleavage…
“Goten!”
The bellowing bark from Vegeta across the way broke his concentration as the elder halfling gulped in response. “Er, yeah Vegeta?” he asked with slight concern.
A large piece of luggage was chucked at the man as he dropped his own bag to catch it. “Make yourself useful and start bringing these inside,” Vegeta instructed curtly. He turned his focus to his daughter, but said nothing, even as she evaded eye contact. Goten nodded in compliance as he set forth with his new task. Vegeta followed him as he gave one last glance in Bulla’s direction before heading away.
Part of Bulla was amused to see Goten so subservient to her father, but the other part of her speculated if Vegeta’s request was intentional. She sighed, sad that her playful banter was cut short, before joining her mother to prepare for takeoff.
…
“Chi, you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Goku asked sweetly. He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t want you to feel like we’re abandoning you here!”
“Nonsense,” Chi-Chi waved her hand. She smoothed the fabric of her husband’s shirt for him. “You Saiyans can go and have fun—this will give me a little peace and quiet for a change,” his wife insisted. With a dubious look from Goku, she contorted her face. “Believe me, I won’t be mad,” Chi-Chi promised to her doubting mate. “Behave yourself though! I don’t need you causing a ruckus on a foreign planet.”
“Oh,” Goku returned a little disappointedly, hoping she might change her mind. Sensing this, Chi-Chi grasped his chin.
“I’ll miss you though, you big lug,” she said kissing him on the cheek. Within seconds, she felt Goku’s strong arms wrap her tightly.
“I’ll miss you more, Chi-Chi,” Goku whispered back.
Her face flushed at her husband being so candidly affectionate for once. Chi-Chi let herself enjoy the moment, a bit saddened at the thought of her family going off-planet for a while, but happy for their chance to go on a new adventure and her opportunity for some relaxation. Clearing her throat, she pressed her hand to his cheek once more before grabbing a giant box of food for him to take on board much to Goku’s great delight.
“Same goes for you, Videl,” Gohan turned to his own wife as they said their goodbyes. “The invitation was for everyone, not just Saiyans,” he continued.
Videl beamed at his thoughtfulness. “Someone’s got to make sure your mother isn’t all by herself,” she maintained, “besides, Dad would utterly lose it if both Goten and I left—the dojo would probably fall apart!”
“True,” Gohan contended, his tone still somewhat sad.
She kissed him gently on the lips as her arms found their way around his neck. “This will be a great opportunity for all of you though,” Videl assured, “think of all the research you’ll have access to alone. Plus, learning a whole new culture—that’s right up your alley, dear.”
Her husband’s grip tightened around her as he felt a swell of pride at Videl’s genuine nature. “I love you,” Gohan murmured before kissing her once more, a little longer this time. The two stared into each other’s eyes until a choking sound broke them out of their trance.
“Gross,” Pan gagged as she gathered her bags, “please get a room.”
Their offspring shook her head at the public display of affection from her parents to which they both chuckled quietly to themselves. “One day Pan you’ll understand,” Videl said kindly to her near-adult child. She briefly winked at Uub who was blushing behind her daughter. The young man quickly found himself another task to do, while Pan closed her eyes, missing the interaction in its entirety.
“Please,” she countered with a snort, “that’ll be the day.”
Her mother laughed as she hugged Pan to say goodbye. “Be good,” she instructed kissing her on the temple. Pan softened at the gesture and returned the embrace.
“I will, Mama,” she promised.
She squeezed her one last time before release. Videl turned her attention to the green Namekian leaning against a nearby wall. “Piccolo, you’ll make sure they’ll be okay, right?” the concerned wife asked in a manner that already seemed to know the answer.
Piccolo sighed. “Should have known the reason I’m on this trip is to play babysitter yet again,” he said with little enthusiasm.
“Aw, c’mon Piccolo—you always do such a great job of it!” Gohan teased his mentor. When he opened one eye as his reaction, Piccolo made sure to remain unamused. A nervous chortle passed through the halfling. “Besides, I’ll think you’ll find the experience worthwhile! Not often an all-expense paid vacation to another planet comes along.”
Rolling his eyes, Piccolo exhaled once more, no other protests left. “I’ll be sure to keep them out of trouble for you, Videl,” he promised flatly, which made Gohan’s wife beam with contentment.
Nearby, Marron was having trouble separating herself from her parents who were hesitant about letting her go by herself.
“You sure you want to go all alone, Marron?” Krillin asked his daughter sweetly. Marron gleamed at his protectiveness.
“Dad, I’ll be fine—I’m hardly going alone!”
“Still…” Krillin trailed off.
He turned to his wife who also had her own doubts. “If you a certain about this Marron, we will be supportive,” Eighteen insisted, her hand lovingly on her husband’s back as she spoke for them both. “It’s just not something we are used to seeing from you.”
“Mom,” she answered happily, “remember, it’s my year of new things! I want to do this. Sure, it’ll be a little scary and out of my comfort zone, but that’s part of the experience.”
Both of her parents looked at each other warily before Marron encased them both in a hug. “I’ll miss you both,” their daughter murmured. They returned the embrace with great strength, silently conveying the same. The moment ended when the trio heard Trunks clearing his throat inches away.
“Krillin,” he nodded, “Eighteen.”
Marron was facing the opposite way, but remained impartial in her expression when she made out his voice. Though Krillin smiled immediately, Eighteen’s eyes narrowed in on the halfling, unsettling him severely. All of Marron’s feistiness came from her and while he was certain Marron hadn’t shared the details of their passionate encounter with anyone else, Trunks had the gnawing sensation that Eighteen somehow knew he defiled her daughter.
That thought alone was enough to get his insides twisted with fear.
“Trunks,” Eighteen countered flatly.
“Trunks,” Krillin cleared his throat, “you’ll be sure to watch over my Marron, won’t you?”
An immediate reply was not to be as the request prompted the demi-Saiyan to stammer a bit. Trunks found himself staring at the blonde in question with a light flush on his cheeks. She refused to look him directly in the eye, but her own countenance had reddened. Though he knew she was still angry with him, the hybrid would do anything to keep her safe. With earnestness, Trunks simply said, “With my life.”
The words surprised Marron but seemed to delight her father who gave the younger Saiyan’s hand a squeeze.
“I owe you one,” Krillin admitted. He nudged the other man’s stomach with a cheeky grin. “You’ll have to let us know how these Souljin women are,” the former monk joked with tightened eyes. Leaning into an already blushing Trunks, Krillin whispered, “Who knows? Maybe you’ll come back with one!”
The comment made Marron pout, and before the embarrassed Trunks could respond, Eighteen started to tug on her husband’s ear to lead him away, much to Krillin’s disappointment. “Dear,” she said tartly, “let’s let the kids get ready to depart. I’m sure you can talk shop with Roshi later.”
Grateful for the save, Trunks began to smile again. That is, until he noticed the glaring figure of his lifelong friend and one time paramour.
“What do you want?” Marron questioned in a biting manner.
Trunks sighed. “Mare,” he began, “I don’t want to leave for this trip with us at odds,” he said with candor. Her face softened as it became apparent how sincere Trunks was with his words. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to let him get away with his behavior.
“Trunks, you really embarrassed me,” she expressed, crossing her arms. “In front of a prince!”
“I was wrong for that,” Trunks acknowledged, “I’m sorry.”
The beautiful woman focused on the ground below, her voice growing quiet. “You know,” she whispered, “you’ve been a pretty crappy friend since well…since that night…”
Marron didn’t have to say anything more for Trunks to understand the hidden clandestineness between the two. Both had twinges of pink formulating on their cheekbones. “I do know,” he replied in earnest. The lavender-haired man put his hands in his pockets. “I know that I’ve been an asshole, and I know nothing I can say can change that, but I promise Marron I’m going to work on being better.”
While she was not entirely unconvinced, her arms remained folded. “I just want my friend back,” his blonde companion confessed. She finally met his blue eyes. “I just want us to move forward,” she stated with a quiet poise.
Before he could respond, Bulma’s authoritative voice rang out across the yard, courtesy of the megaphone in her hand. “Everyone! We’re going to be boarding soon—departure is at 11:00am sharp! That’s in ten minutes! Grab your bags and get ready to leave.”
With everyone else distracted with the impending embarkment, Trunks leaned in even closer to Marron, not finished with their earlier conversation. “I want to move forward too,” he promised. He took her hand and interlocked his fingers with her. “Fresh start?”
Butterflies flew aflutter in her trembling stomach, and Marron would have sworn it was nausea at first but believed in Trunks with all her heart. She never could say no to him, for better or worse. “Fresh start,” the blonde agreed with a tight grip. The demi-Saiyan smiled at her with his own striking set of teeth.
“Good,” he said with a final tug on her hand.
As their fingers unclasped, Marron lightly punched him on the shoulder. “But you aren’t allowed to bring up any embarrassing stories from here on out, you got it?” she demanded, looking frighteningly similar to Eighteen in that moment. “Especially in front of royalty.”
Trunks put two of his digits in the air and crossed his heart. “I, Trunks Vegeta Briefs, solemnly swear to only say true and honest things about you, Marron Chestnut,” he swore. His cheeky grin almost had Marron doubting, but she was going to hold him to his promise.
“Folks! This isn’t a drill. We are leaving!”
Marron turned to Trunks to accept his oath to her. “And one last thing,” she said boldly, “no more telling lies about anything having to do with my stomach.”
“Hey, that was true and honest,” he admitted.
“It is not!” Marron insisted, folding her arms. Not wanting to start any arguments after making up, Trunks shrugged and smiled.
“Whatever you say, Mare. Whatever you say.”
“You’ll eat those words when you see how well I do on this spaceship…”
-=-=-=-
Ten minutes into their flight, Marron ate her own words. Well, regurgitated them at least…
Hunkered over the toilet with Bulla holding her hair back, Marron emptied whatever remnants of breakfast she had into the porcelain throne before her. Pan winced against the wall, sympathetic to her friend’s plight but keeping her distance. Bulla even turned her head as Marron continuously retched, praying that she wouldn’t get sick by proxy.
“Oh Marron,” Bulla trying desperately to avoid looking, “we really have got to do something about your motion sickness.”
Pan made a face also attempting to not watch Marron’s misfortune. “Guess Trunks wasn’t exactly wrong,” she murmured turning a subtle shade of green.
“Hey!” Bulla snapped her fingers with a free hand. “Not you too—I can only handle one sick passenger at a time!”
Pan brought her hand to her mouth trying to obey Bulla’s command as best she could, still a little greenish. The bluette returned her attention back to Marron. She sympathetically rubbed the puking woman’s back.
Her blonde friend groaned, still headfirst in the toilet bowl. “Don’t…” she began weakly, “don’t…tell your brother about this…”
As she finished her miserable bout of puking, Marron slowly rose to her feet, Bulla continuing to hold her friend’s hair back.
“Wouldn’t dream of giving him a win,” Bulla promised. The two non-afflicted women helped Marron clean up. The golden-haired woman tapped both of them on the arms to silently convey her gratitude. While her history with the boys may have been a little more extensive, she was thankful for her little sisterhood.
They left the bathroom linking together as they often did, but truthfully, Marron appreciated the extra balance. Everything would have been fine, except what awaited them behind the door.
To her sheer horror, Marron realized Trunks was standing outside the restroom as the three women appeared before him. The self-satisfied smirk on his face was telling, and Marron was too tired to deal with his smugness.
“Go ahead,” she began, “just say it.”
“Here,” he said, pulling a glass of water from behind his back, “thought you could use this.”
This surprised all three of them, unlinking arms in the process. Both Pan and Bulla were shocked at the kind display from the eldest half-Saiyan, but none more so than Marron, who was convinced he would have been gloating about being right.
“Oh—”
“Thought you might be a little thirsty,” Trunks stated, not mentioning her motion sickness at all. He gestured for her to take the glass. After careful scrutiny, Marron took it from his hand and couldn’t help but curl her lips.
This was definitely him trying.
-=-=-=-
Situated at a desk in the open concept kitchen, Gohan was studying various documents sprawled out before him. With Bulma tinkering in the spaceship’s lab, he was making use of the extra space to go over the data the two had been analyzing for some time now. Between some of the new pieces graciously given by Souljin’s scientists and what they had already collected on their own, it was an impressive amount of information to research. Always one to be caught up in his work, Gohan didn’t realize he had been joined by someone else.
“Out here by yourself?” the elder Son brother heard from behind, instantly recognizing the voice as Goten. He turned to see his brother grinning widely, a near perfect clone of his father, save for the hairstyle.
“Bulma’s in the lab, Vegeta’s in the gravity room, Dad already ate everything Mom gave him and is in a food coma,” Gohan seemed to say in one breath, “and Piccolo is meditating until we reach Souljin.”
Goten was amused by his brother’s pointed answer. “You know Gohan,” he began again. “You’re technically our generation too. You don’t have to stay down here alone; you could come up and join us if you want. With Videl back home, I’m sure you’d like the company.”
Gohan quietly laughed to himself as he looked up from the documents and tablet in his hands, an amused crinkling of his eyes. “It’s funny,” he started off, “I’ve always felt a little older than I am.”
“Oh yeah?” Goten pulled up a bar stool and joined his sibling at the table.
“Yeah,” Gohan nodded as he removed his glasses to wipe them. “I suppose hanging out with Dad and his friends since childhood will do that to you.”
He reflected fondly on his unusual upbringing with Piccolo oh so caringly abducting him as a toddler and then jet-setting off to Namek at five. Gohan had lived a pretty full life before ever reaching puberty. Even as he approached adulthood, he found himself married and with a kid far earlier than he expected. His entire existence was comprised of reaching milestones well before others his age. The eldest Son brother returned his newly cleaned spectacles to his face. “Besides,” he said with a wave of his hand, “Pan’s a bit closer with most of you guys age wise and I don’t want to cramp her style.”
“Ah, so you admit you’re an old man then,” Goten teased with a nudge. Gohan closed his eyes, the softest smirk forming on his lips, only to kick the bar stool out from under Goten. His brother barely caught himself to hop off the stool in the nick of time.
“An old man that can still kick your butt any day of the week,” the scholar retorted in victory.
Goten rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night,” he answered, resituating himself on the bar stool. Immediately, his attention was brought to the various documents before them. He grabbed a couple of papers and shuffled them in his hands. “So, what exactly have you been looking at here?” the younger man wondered, curiosity piqued.
Fetching his tablet, Gohan brought some additional data onto the screen. “Prince Zasso managed to put us in contact with Souljin’s head scientist Dr. Niwa,” Gohan explained. The firstborn enlarged one of the tables he had been reviewing so Goten could see more clearly. “They’ve been doing their fair share of genetics research for some time now,” he continued on. “Everything from medical marvels to genealogy to Saiyan and Souljin history,” the older demi-Saiyan spoke, “and I have to say I’m impressed.”
Though science was never quite his forte, Goten analyzed the screen with intent, occasionally gazing down at the documents in his hand. Most of what was in front of him looked akin to hieroglyphics, however, and he felt a bit foolish with his attempt. “It’s all a bit over my head,” the younger halfling professed. Gohan smiled at his brother.
“You’ve always been a bit more of a hands-on learner, Goten; no shame in that,” Gohan responded with encouragement. With appreciation for his sibling’s steadfast support, the corners of Goten’s lips turned upwards. While he would occasionally feel the sting of jealousy when it came to Gohan’s intelligence and success, his brother was still his greatest advocate. The scholar handed him a couple distinct documents, the names of all the Saiyan hybrids prominently displayed.
“What’s this?”
“Our own research on Saiyan genes.”
Goten lowered the document to look at his brother directly. “Since when do we have research on us?” he marveled with fascination.
“Bulma and I have been working on it for a few years now,” Gohan admitted. Gathering a few more documents, the dark-eyed man displayed several more data tables. “We have mostly treated it as a little side project, although these last couple of weeks we’ve been pouring over it in preparation for this trip. May I?”
Lightly taking the manuscripts from his brother’s hands, Gohan also laid those out bare for them to observe together. “The Souljins have fairly diluted Saiyan blood, yet they’ve retained some prominent traits such as their tails, in spite of those having no effect on them in the moonlight,” he began confidently. Goten admired his brother’s brain, even if it was sometimes the cause of envy. Gohan met his gaze once more and brought two documents in particular to the forefront. “It’s curious that human blood mixed Saiyan blood had almost an opposite effect. Traits like hair color and tails were less affected, but the genes themselves seemed to respond more harmoniously to Earthling DNA.”
“Out of the four halflings, I was the only one born with a tail,” Gohan added, knowing Goten already knew that factoid, but said it for clarity’s sake. “What’s interesting though is if you look at my DNA compared to the rest of yours, I actually have genomes that tend to favor the human side.”
“Wouldn’t we all have the same amount of Saiyan and human genes though?” Goten questioned astutely. “I mean, the term half-Saiyans made me think it was all half and half.”
“Well racially yes,” Gohan acknowledged, “we are one-part Saiyan and one-part human. But DNA is a bit richer than that; there are traits and genomes we inherit from each parent, and so it’s always going to be different even amongst siblings. For instance—"
Gohan grabbed the sheet that had Goten’s photo and genetic information. “You’re not only more favorable to the Saiyan side compared to me, but also compared to Trunks and Bulla as well,” he showed pointing to some intricate numbers that made little sense to his brother.
“Me?” Goten blinked with rapt attention.
“Yep,” the other demi-Saiyan nodded in agreement. “More of Dad’s chromosomal traits can be found in your genetic material compared to more of Mom’s in mine.
Goten studied this particular page, trying to see what Gohan was seeing. He bit his lip, doing his best to analyze it all. With his silent state, his sibling continued.
“On top of that, we’ve identified a particular set of genomes known as S-Cells, which we believe have something to do with activating the Super Saiyan form. With you being the youngest Super Saiyan in history, I wasn’t surprised to see that you also seemed to possess the highest amount of S-Cells, though all of us share a fair amount.”
Furrowing his brows, Goten turned to his brother once more. “S-Cells? Do all Saiyans have them?”
“Compared to Dad and Vegeta, all of us have more than they did, since it does appear to be related more so to those being born in times of peace and with a gentler nature.”
Both brothers chuckled at the last comment. “Gentle is not a word I associate with Vegeta,” Goten said with a grin.
“Lucky for you he’s in the ship’s gravity room with Bulla,” Gohan kidded, nudging his younger sibling. “Both Dad and Vegeta were Super Saiyans though by the time you and Bulla were born, whereas Trunks and I were conceived prior to that transformation.”
“So, you think that also affected things?”
“I do,” Gohan replied, “Bulma and I both seem to agree that S-Cells have both a nature and a nurture element. The times of peace play a factor, but when a Saiyan transforms, they possess a high number of S-Cells. Those don’t go away completely on their own, even after powering down. They just lie dormant. If both of you were born after that transmutation, it stands to reason it likely played a factor. This isn’t concrete mind you, but based on what we’ve been examining, it seems as probable a cause as any.”
A new sheet appeared with Bulla’s information. “What’s interesting to me is that for as much as Bulla favors her mother physically, genetically she aligns closer to Vegeta. And compared to Trunks, she also has more S-Cells,” Gohan explained. Goten studied the data absentmindedly, mostly focusing on the pretty headshot of Bulla that was associated with the documentation. Without turning, he could sense his brother looking intently at him. A somewhat amused expression formed on his face. The other half-Saiyan didn’t say anything, but it was clear his mind was mulling with different theories as to why.
To distract his older sibling from speculating any further, Goten asked, “What do you think that means for Bulla then?”
Gohan leaned back in his chair, pondering. “It wouldn’t surprise me if Bulla has an aptitude for fighting even with less training than say, Pan for example,” he conceded. “Given her genetics and the amount of S-Cells she’s in possession of, I don’t think it would actually take much for her to go Super Saiyan. Pan is only a quarter-Saiyan and while she has a lot of natural skill, with her lack of being able to reach that pinnacle yet, I do believe genetics likely has to play some factor there. Obviously, don’t tell that to Pan, but if Bulla wanted to, she could very well surpass her.”
To the best of his ability, Goten tried to remain detached to the response so that Bulla’s hidden talent wasn’t discovered by his brother. “Interesting,” he remarked quietly, not tearing his eyes off her chart.
“Could you imagine, Goten?” Gohan asked with his hands behind his head. “A female Super Saiyan in our universe. That would be something, right?”
Looking one last time at Bulla’s data sheet, Goten gazed in the direction of the spaceship’s gravity room further down the hall where he knew she was. The gentlest smile crept on his face.
“Yeah,” he whispered mostly to himself, “definitely something.”
-=-=-=-
“Good!” Vegeta exclaimed as he matched his daughter blow for blow. “Your dexterity is improving.”
Bulla unleashed a primal yell as she threw her energy into a powerful strike. When she realized she caught him by surprise with the move, the princess grinned. “Just putting what you’ve taught me into practice,” she accredited.
He launched a kick that met her back with great force, slamming her across the room. “Is that so?”
While she was down, the Saiyan Prince put his hands together, a purple light blazing between them. Bulla instantly saw the glowing orb and hopped to her feet to counter the attack. Her two hands took a much different stance than her father, absentmindedly resorting to the most recent ki technique in her head.
“Ka—”
Vegeta’s eyes widened as he began his blast, “Galick—"
Bulla immediately corrected, switching at the last minute to a different technique. “Final—”
“GUN!”
Before she could finish, her father’s energy plummeted to the ground to knock her on her back. The defeated daughter moaned loudly, signaling to the older Saiyan she was not getting up on her own. His face didn’t hide his annoyance as he floated down near the flattened princess.
“The next time you hesitate could be the last time, Bulla.”
Remaining on the floor trying to catch her breath, the heiress unearthed a discontented groan. “I know, I know,” she asserted, still attempting to inhale at a normal rate.
Vegeta scoffed. “Oh, do you?” he asked extending his hand to lift her up to her feet. “Were this a real fight, you wouldn’t be breathing right now, girl.”
She kept her eyes on the ground, knowing he was right. Her father emitted a huff of air. “None of my fights are ever real, Dad,” Bulla responded quietly, pensive at the fact she was so inexperienced in that department.
His trademark frown tempered. “One day they will be,” he said as a promise. Bulla lifted her head to meet his intense dark eyes. Vegeta did not break contact. “I want you to take this seriously,” he continued, “forgetting to form the right blast is not a luxury you can afford in battle.”
The halfling’s stare widened at the comment. Though she barely got out a “Ka” for her almost attempted Kamehameha Wave, surely, he couldn’t have noticed? Yet, his remark felt much too specific for it to be random. “You’ve got so many moves, Dad,” she tried to pacify, “hard to remember them all.”
“Remember them,” he said sharply. “Don’t let yourself become a target because of spending too much time in your head.”
Maybe he didn’t catch it?
“I will,” she remedied.
“Good,” Vegeta stated before standing about-face. “Now leave me,” he continued, “I want to train alone.”
His daughter blinked at the sudden shooing but understood her father’s desire for solitude. She shook her head up and down and made her way outside. The lock clicked almost as soon as she closed the door.
Slumping down in exhaustion, Bulla groaned. How could she have been so careless? Stupid move, Bulla—he was already suspicious of things and that was too close a call, she mentally berated herself.
The bluette tightly hugged her legs and groaned into her knees. While she was aware of her father’s adept ability to filter out falsehood, she didn’t need to give him any ammunition. She just hoped she didn’t put Goten in a difficult position should her father decide to turn any ire towards him.
“Hey B-Chan!”
Speak of the devil. Angel. Whatever he was.
She shifted her attention to the smiling hybrid waving at her down the hall. Without trying, he always managed to look so handsome when he had that stupid grin on his face. It made her heart skip a beat.
“You okay?” Goten questioned gently.
Bulla returned a soft smile. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she contended. The aqua-haired woman heaved a heavy breath. She spared the details of her little slipup but gave a half-truth. “Dad just went at me pretty hard today,” Bulla added.
“I’m sure you gave him a run for his money,” Goten grinned, fully confident the same Bulla who caught him off guard only weeks ago could keep up with her father.
“Doubtful,” Bulla retorted, still a faint beam gracing her visage.
Goten inched downwards to join her on the floor. He playfully bumped the heiress prompting a hidden laugh to bubble out from her throat. “Nah, don’t kid yourself,” he began again, “you’ve come a long way in just a couple months.”
“Laying it on pretty thick there, Son.”
“Just speaking the truth, Princess.”
The two of them glanced at each other once more, both content to be in the presence of one another. Amidst admiring the sole dimple in his cheek, a warmth flooded her chest. He always had a way of making her feel cherished, even if it was just small bouts of encouragement. “Thanks Goten,” she stated appreciating his obsidian orbs and how they had the potential to pierce through her entirely.
Gently placing his hand on her knee, he squeezed tightly, signature smile bare for her to see. “Anytime,” the other half-Saiyan answered with charm.
She allowed herself a moment to absorb the feel of his palm on her body. Knowing her suspicious father lingered just behind them, Bulla made the difficult decision to end the contact as she slowly rose upwards, with Goten not far behind her. “I’m going to clean off the shame of my ass-beating,” the bluette partially joked, “but I’ll see you soon.”
“When you’re done, come back upstairs. I think we’re going to play some card games,” he said, hands to the side.
Bulla laughed as she walked in the direction of the locker room. “A thousand zeni my brother accuses someone of cheating tonight,” she playfully retorted with a wink back at Goten who let out a genuine chortle.
“Obviously. It’s Trunks. He absolutely will.”
-=-=-=-
Later that evening…
“And a flush wins it—suck it, Mr. President!”
Trunks threw his cards down, as did the others who lost yet again to a snickering Pan. “You’re a fucking cheat,” the eldest halfling declared.
Bulla gave a knowing side eye to Goten who tried not to laugh too loudly. Pan merely stuck her tongue out and raked in the zeni on the table.
“Be nice,” Marron chided, “Pan won fair and square.”
“Yeah right,” Trunks snorted back, “if fair and square means switching the deck then sure, let’s go with that.”
“Kami, you’re a sore loser!” Pan laughed. She started to silently count her zeni before continuing. “Your whole family is,” the ebony-haired woman said tilting her head towards the heiress, who did not let the comment slide.
“Hey!” Bulla exclaimed, resentful.
“Am I wrong?” Pan motioned to her non-Briefs companions. “Are they both not the most competitive people ever like their parents?”
Uub quietly fiddled with his fingers in silent protest, not wanting to rock the boat, as Marron and Goten traded awkward glances. “Well,” Goten began in a doubting tone before feeling two elbow jabs on either side from the siblings. “Ow, hey! I didn’t say anything.”
“Didn’t need to, jerk!” Bulla said with a glare. Whenever the Saiyan Princess was cross she looked especially like a mix of her parents.
“Alright, alright…” Marron interjected, “for the safety of the group, maybe we should stop with the card games and play something else.”
“Yeah?” Trunks scoffed, still offended. “Like what?”
“We can play ‘Never Have I Ever’ instead!” Pan offered.
“NO!” Goten, Marron, and Trunks all cried in unison; thoughts of their wild night out still fresh in their memory. The other three members of their group looked a little stunned at the animation in their voices.
“Geeze, tough crowd…” Pan muttered.
Bulla blinked with curiosity at their protest. “I mean, I don’t mind the game,” she said turning to the others. She briefly caught Goten’s attention as the two looked away.
“Of course you don’t,” Pan snorted with amusement, “you always win since you’ve never done a damn thing.”
“Have so,” Bulla retorted, flushed. Trunks’ eyes narrowed in on her suspiciously.
“Oh really?” he asked in a sardonic fashion. His curiosity peaked, ki rising ever so slightly at the thought of some tool touching his sister. The older brother felt his leg sting as she kicked him underneath the table. “Ow, damn it, Bulla!”
“Mind your business,” she shushed him.
“Please, Bulla,” Pan spoke dismissively, scratching her nose. “You’ve never even been kissed—”
Goten nearly fell out of his seat as Marron’s eyes bulged out in horror at the remark. She quickly glanced at Bulla who gave her a telling look to stay quiet. As Goten regained his balance in his chair, he detected the others eyeing his odd behavior. “Uh, stupid chair is wobbly…” he trailed off, avoiding looking at any of them, especially Trunks right at that moment.
Bulla quietly pouted, not wanting to reveal any more about the false pretense of that statement, and yet, she didn’t appreciate the amount of attention on her. “Neither have you, Pan,” the bluette muttered sharply.
“Have so,” Pan put her arms behind her head casually. Everyone’s eyes widened.
“You have?!” Goten said aghast, knowing far more about his niece than he cared to.
Pan snorted. “I don’t see what the big fuss is about,” she shrugged off, “Uub and I did for practice once or twice.”
“You have?!” Trunks repeated in shock.
Immediately, the bevy of astonished faces turned to Uub, who was waving his palms like a madman. Sweat formed at the top of his brow, looking almost as nervous as he did the day he met the gang at the World Martial Arts Tournament. The pupil of Goku could barely get a coherent word out. “I mean—we—may have—oh Kami—” he fumbled, a nervous wreck.
“It’s not a big deal,” Pan insisted, slightly wounding the reincarnation of Buu in the process, but she didn’t notice his face twitch.
“It’s a big deal!” Trunks insisted. “I thought you two were just friends.”
“Friends kiss sometimes,” she commented, “you cannot tell me that you and Uncle Goten have never—"
“WE HAVE NEVER KISSED EACH OTHER!” the two best friends screamed in unison, almost a little too defensively. Secretly, Bulla breathed a sigh of relief. She recognized neither of them felt that kind of way towards other men, but still, they were awfully close to one another. That would’ve added a whole other messy layer to their dynamic.
Pan smirked. “Whew, touchy!” the ebony-haired beauty bemoaned. “I remember catching both of you kissing Marron before, so I just assumed it was a free-for-all!”
It was Bulla’s turn to nearly fall out of her chair. “EXCUSE ME?!” she shouted vigorously, surprising the others in the process. Her penetrating stare met both Goten and Marron, wondering what other secrets her best friend and crush had kept from her. Before either could explain themselves, Trunks interjected.
“Hey, it was Marron’s first time drinking and we felt bad, so we got drunk with her,” he explained, yet another secret revealed. He huffed in Pan’s direction. “I seem to recall paying you off in candy to not say anything,” the heir pointed out, remembering a precocious 10-year-old walking in accidentally on them.
“Statute of limitations has passed, Prez—it’s all fair game now,” Pan snickered to herself.
The intensity of Bulla’s glare grew darker, prompting Goten to speak up. “It was at one of the holiday parties and we snuck off with some of the stash. One thing led to another, and we just took turns kissing,” he clarified quietly. The look on Bulla’s face crushed him. Goten pointed to Trunks straightaway. “But Marron and Trunks made out…she and I just had one little kiss!”
“Yeah, because she ralphed on your lap!”
“Trunks!” Marron elbowed him. “What did we just talk about this morning?!”
“What!? You did!” Trunks responded plainly.
“Kami! Marron, what doesn’t get you sick?” Pan pondered aloud. “Between alcohol and motion sickness, your track record isn’t great.”
Marron pressed her palm to her forehead. “This is so embarrassing,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. The blonde hoped that particular memory would stay hidden, especially from Bulla, but Pan just had her ways of stirring the pot. It was a wonder the girl hadn’t caught on to more given her track record. She eyed Bulla sulking across the table, clearly not happy, so Marron wanted to do some damage control.
“It was only once a long time ago,” the human continued softly, “obviously, it meant nothing.”
“Yeah nothing,” Goten added all too eagerly. The man hoped the adamancy in his voice was noticed by Bulla, and thankfully, he saw the edge of her lip curl in understanding. He turned to Trunks expecting a similar reaction, but the lavender-haired heir frowned. Coming across a bit wistful, he fleetingly caught Marron’s attention before he spoke.
“Right,” the eldest hybrid nodded, “nothing.”
The low volume of his speech was telling. Those glacial eyes of his peered into hers, and Marron realized that while her comment was meant for Goten, that Trunks may have thought it applied to him as well. She couldn’t very well address that without revealing more, so she remained tight-lipped after the exchange, though her own sapphire orbs tried to let him know otherwise.
“Why did that feel like a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” Uub said resting his hand on his temple.
“Because Pan’s a little shit sometimes,” Trunks insisted, glaring.
“Yeah, maybe we should let Gohan know what you’ve been up to Pan,” Goten pestered, partially serious. “I’m sure he’d love to hear about you and Uub playing tonsil tennis.”
“Can we please not…” Uub begged from across the table.
Pan eyed her uncle mischievously, unfazed by his playful threat. This unnerved him greatly. He didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her.
“What?”
“I know another game we can play,” Pan said with devious aim. Goten cocked an eyebrow wondering what she could possibly mean. “Uncle Goten,” his niece placed her hands behind her head, “I dare you to give Bulla her first kiss.”
This time, both Bulla and Goten actually fell out of their seats, with Marron nearly joining them in shock. Uub sighed, leaning his cheek on his fist; this was about to be another long night. A cacophony of coughing and wheezing emanated from the floor.
Amidst the chaos, Trunks was fuming. He turned to Pan, utterly appalled at the suggestion. “Are you out of your fucking mind, Pan?!” he exclaimed.
She shrugged. “What? Bulla’s never been kissed.”
“And so GOTEN should be the one to kiss her? Are you high?!”
“I’m obviously not going to ask YOU to kiss her, dipshit!”
Trunks gestured towards Goku’s student. “Uub is right there!”
By this time both Bulla and Goten crawled back up to the table, hanging on the edge. Together they shouted, “Uub?!”
Uub pointed to himself as Pan also chimed in with their own in tandem, “Me/Uub?!”
The younger quarterling looked indignant. “Why the hell would Uub kiss Bulla?!”
“WHY THE HELL WOULD GOTEN?!”
“Enough!” Marron finally stood up to calm the masses. Bulla and Goten sat back on their stools, red-faced and silent. The daughter of Krillin and Eighteen did not look like she was messing around. Trunks and Pan folded their arms, while Uub breathed a sigh of relief. “I think we are getting a little stir crazy. Let’s think of something else to do.”
Bulla mouthed a silent thank you to her friend for reeling in the chaos. The blonde smiled and quietly nodded. Goten was about to combust from the nerves. Trunks blew a bang out of his face, still clearly irritated at Pan’s previous dare.
“What if we just watch a movie?” Uub suggested reasonably.
“Yes,” the trio of Bulla, Marron, and Goten said unanimously. Pan and Trunks gave each other one last side-eye before agreeing as well.
“Fine,” they both agreed.
Eventually, they all decided on an action flick that would require little mental energy, given how late it was getting. The movie started to play as everyone found their places. To no one’s surprise, Pan and Uub claimed the aptly named loveseat where Pan extended herself taking up most of the space. She leaned against Uub who sat up straight, stiffer than a board, not making a peep about the additional contact. His tan skin in the darkness almost a full shade deeper.
Goten was about to join the others on the sectional, but with Marron and Trunks each grabbing the end seats, the only one available was right next to Bulla in-between her and her brother.
That was something Goten’s nerves couldn’t handle again just yet. At least without food to settle his stomach.
“I’m gonna grab a snack,” he said quietly, virtually to himself. No one seemed to catch his departure towards the steps as they were all engrossed in the flick.
Except for a pair of kind blue eyes, softening with slight disappointment at the other hybrid’s retreat.
-=-=-=-
Descending the staircase into the kitchen, Goten spotted the main lights had been dimmed, leaving only the glow of the backsplash to irradiate the rest of the first floor. He deduced that the late hour, plus the age of the other travelers, indicated that they were all already tucked into bed sleeping.
Save for one quieten figure in the corner.
Almost blending into the darkness, Vegeta’s outline in front of the large window could have nearly been missed, had it not been for his distinctive hair shape. Though he couldn’t quite make out his face, Goten could tell his best friend’s father was deep in thought. Goten aborted his original plan to grab food and instead made his way to where the other man stood.
“Hey Vegeta,” Goten said cheerfully, appearing to the older man’s side as the Saiyan Prince stared silently out the vast bay window. “You’re up late,” he observed.
“Hmph,” was all Vegeta uttered in response, glare unchanged. His moment of peace and quiet interrupted in the matter of an instant. The all-too-familiar grimace that had graced his face numerous times before seemed to be more wrinkled than usual. He was in no mood to entertain Kakarot’s brat.
“Something on your mind?” Goten wondered with genuine concern. A gruff noise rattled from the older Saiyan’s throat.
“Nothing I care to discuss,” Vegeta answered deliberately.
Undeterred, Goten remained, putting his hands in his pockets, and gazing out through the glass before him. In the distance, numerous luminary bodies twinkled back. How infinitesimal they all were traveling through space next to the hundreds of planets and stars that lied before them. It was truly a sight to behold.
“We’d be crazy to ever think it’s just us in this universe,” he said quietly as he turned to face Vegeta. “Though I can imagine it’s probably how you’ve felt a few times as a Saiyan.”
“Does your idle chatter have a point?”
“I just,” Goten began again unsure, “I figured that it’s got to be a little nerve-wracking.”
“And what is that?” Vegeta questioned, annoyed.
Noiselessness fell before them. “Your extended family on Souljin,” the halfling returned. Another pulse of silence enveloped the two. “Are you nervous to meet them?” Goten speculated. His dusky eyes shone with curiosity and concern, not necessarily pity and yet, Vegeta took it negatively at first.
“Why would I be concerned about something so trivial?” he responded in a curter tone than before.
The harshness in Vegeta’s voice did little to dissuade Goten from his original intent. He was far too used to it by now to be discouraged. The younger demi-Saiyan glanced once more at the impressive galaxy sprawled out in front of them. A small smile formed at the edge of his lips.
“You know,” he started off, “I remember before I met my dad for the first time, I was pretty anxious. How could I not be? The famous Goku: savior of the world—”
Vegeta snorted in exasperation.
Goten continued without missing a beat. “My whole life, I grew up with stories about my father. He sounded almost mythical. I mean, to a seven-year-old who only heard tales of what he did, who he was…I thought he’d be a god amongst men.”
A hearty chortle passed his lips. “Yet, while he truly was all these great things,” Goten regained fondly, “at the end of the day, he mainly was just my dad.”
His gaze glinted over in Vegeta’s direction. “That day at the World Martial Arts Tournament, when he appeared I hid behind my mom ‘cause I was so afraid. What if I didn’t live up to his expectations? But, as you saw yourself, Dad just simply introduced himself in the kind manner he always did. Something about not only his tone, but his eyes—they convinced me that things were okay, and I didn’t need to be afraid.”
Vegeta shifted towards the halfling, still scowling but considerably less severe than before. “Why are you telling me all of this?” he inquired skeptically.
Goten released a grin that mimicked his father to a tee. “Because,” he spoke with quiet grace, “I know a little bit what it’s like to reconnect with family you hadn’t really known before. Despite any differences, all of you come from the same place. The same bloodline. Maybe it doesn’t seem like a lot but, that’s something.”
The royal folded his arms, still quiet as the hybrid continued.
“There’s not much that can fluster you of course, Vegeta but if you are worried, even a little bit, I’m sure everything will turn out fine.”
Rolling his eyes, the elder man leered at the notion. “Pfft,” the Saiyan Prince muttered, “I’m no sentimental fool like you or your father.”
The other man’s smile grew wider. “No, of course not,” he said without a hint of sarcasm. Goten looked out towards the window yet again. “Though, if by some small chance you are, your secret is safe with me.”
Goten’s beaming form, which normally would have irritated Vegeta to the high heavens, somehow brought the touchy royal to a state of indifference. The elder Saiyan turned his attention to his younger companion, who met his eyeline without hesitation. Vegeta took note of the man’s confidence, which had been missing from several prior interactions he had with him. His scowl reframed itself as a smirk.
“Good,” Vegeta communicated, “I’ve a reputation to uphold.”
Vegeta winced as he felt his back being patted by the other Saiyan. “That’s the spirit!” Goten chimed happily. He immediately removed his hand when Vegeta glared at him, sheepishly chuckling to himself upon doing so. Goten cleared his throat. “For what it’s worth though,” he resumed, “this will be a cool opportunity for us all. Discovering our roots in a way. Like those stories you used to tell me about the legendary Saiyans of the past.”
The comment prompted Vegeta to raise an eyebrow. “You remember those?” he asked in earnest.
Goten’s chuckle returned. “Of course I do,” the ebony-haired man continued, “I adored those tales. The ones about Yamoshi were my favorite, but honestly, I loved them all.”
As he spoke, Vegeta couldn’t help but take a moment to think of the impact he may have had on the man all those years ago as a boy. His earlier flashback to one of those occasions reminded him of the potential, but to hear it from Goten directly was rather humbling.
Vegeta hated being humbled.
Still, he recognized the significance. This journey was about to be a new dawn in the Saiyan legacy, even if the Souljin people were a bit removed from their roots biologically. While he would never allow Goten’s suspicions to be founded, Vegeta did, in his own way, appreciate the effort to ease his mind a bit.
“Goten,” he caught the younger man’s attention with use of his name for the first time in the conversation. Vegeta inhaled deeply through his nose, almost hesitant. “This…helped.”
Though surprised to see an unusual admission from Vegeta, Goten relished it all the same. The half-Saiyan revealed a full set of teeth at the profession. “I’m glad,” he stated sincerely. Their eye contact ended as Vegeta resumed staring out the window once more. Satisfied that they were done, Goten started to head towards the stairs before Vegeta’s commanding voice prompted him to remain in place.
“Tell me one more thing though,” he instructed gazing at the stars before him. The firmness in his timbre could stop the ship with its weight. Even though the two weren’t looking at each other, Goten could feel daggers at the back of his neck. “How long have you been training my daughter for?” Vegeta interrogated, his all-knowing mind revealing itself.
A gasp nearly unleashed from Goten’s throat, but he used whatever strength he could muster to keep it lodged in there. The confident exterior he exuded almost crumbled away in an instant, but it took everything within the hybrid to stand firm. There was no reason he had to make Vegeta’s knowledge of the subject out to be more than what it was. He swallowed sharply, wishing the brief bout of air could somehow give him the strength he needed to keep his cool.
“Almost seven weeks,” Goten answered quickly to prevent putting anymore doubts in Vegeta’s head.
The royal turned towards Goten, analyzing his face for any ounce of incongruity. “Hmm,” he expressed, impressed at the boy’s resolve. “And just how long were you planning on keeping this from me?”
Without even flinching, Goten held his ground. “You never asked before now,” he affirmed matter-of-factly. It was technically true.
Vegeta scoffed. “A convenient answer,” he chided.
“Convenient,” Goten repeated, “but to be fair, this is the first time you’ve brought it up.”
He grinned as Vegeta rolled his eyes. Goten, sensing less severity from the other man, rejoined him near the window. “That night I went out with Trunks a couple months ago, I caught Bulla in her Super Saiyan form in the gravity room,” he explained.
“Do you make it a habit to spy on my daughter, Goten?”
He immediately waved his hands in protest. “Oh no—it was right after you and I chatted actually,” the hybrid laughed nervously, his guard up once more. “I sensed her ki flaring exponentially and she was pretty hard to miss after that,” Goten added. Seeing Vegeta’s disapproving look not wavering in the slightest, he continued further. “After realizing she had been struggling to maintain the form, I offered to lend some additional assistance.”
“She already had an instructor,” Vegeta said firmly. The elder Saiyan didn’t appreciate his expertise being questioned by Kakarot’s progeny of all people.
“I figured one more couldn’t hurt,” Goten answered in earnest. Even Vegeta didn’t have a response to that. He observed the twinkling of the stars outside and smiled. “Out of curiosity, though,” the younger of two men probed, “how did you know?”
“Tch,” Vegeta sneered, “I know everything.”
Amused, Goten chuckled to himself. “At this rate, I’m starting to think you do,” he carried on, a trace of mischief dancing about.
“Bulla’s made some really good strides though, Vegeta,” Goten resumed. “Regardless of how you feel about me training her, I do think an additional perspective has helped. She’s already quicker and more in control of her ki. I won’t claim to take any credit there, but I believe Bulla is starting to trust in herself a little more. That confidence is helping her a ton and I know if she continues to work at it, she’ll master the Super Saiyan form in no time.”
He couldn’t help but speak fondly of Bulla to her father, especially since every word he said was true. Goten was immensely proud of the progress she had made from when they initially started training until now. The younger halfling carefully observed his older foil for any clue of how the man was feeling about his words. Vegeta’s form slackened just enough to be noticeable.
“You really believe that?” Vegeta inquired; his tone significantly more cordial this time around.
“I’d stake my life on it,” Goten sheepishly grinned, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually do so.
Another wave of quiet passed over, the elder of the two Saiyan men fixated on his racing thoughts. Taking a deep breath, Goten awaited a retort to his previous comment. He wasn’t quite sure where Vegeta stood on things and the silence wasn’t helping. Inhaling a deep breath of his own, the prince’s shoulders rose and fell as he reached a conclusion.
“Perhaps your additional lessons have done her some good,” Vegeta, in rare form, consented. The response nearly knocked Goten over. The Saiyan Prince made sure though to peer straight into the younger man’s soul with his next comment. “I trust you know better than to publicly reveal how Bulla struggles with the ability, correct?”
“I haven’t told anyone else she can go Super Saiyan,” Goten assured. His lips curved upwards. “I don’t plan to, either.”
Vegeta looked once more upon the vastness of space before them. “It’s for her own safety,” the Saiyan Prince maintained, a bit of fondness in his voice. “I don’t want anyone to take advantage of that knowledge. Or worst, advantage of her.”
The words gave pause to both men, as their shared affection for Bulla was a common link. His genuine concern for his daughter was evident, and Goten found himself touched by Vegeta’s devotion. No matter what, that was the one thing he would never want to risk. “I swear, they won’t hear it from me,” the Son man attested.
With a simple bow of the head, Vegeta accepted Goten’s words. The proud prince released his arms from their folded stance, as he readied himself to turn around towards his bedroom. Before heading in that direction, Vegeta stared at Goten one last time. “Is there anything else I should know?” he asked with a concentration that bordered on accusatory.
Without wavering, Goten kept eye contact with the great rival of his father. The proud and noble Saiyan Prince. The second strongest man in the universe. The guardian protector of Bulla Briefs. Meeting his stare squarely on, the younger halfling refused to be deterred. “Thought you knew everything, Vegeta,” he replied confidently, almost with a touch of challenge.
Their eyes locked, Vegeta became acutely aware that Goten wasn’t lowering his gaze. A satisfied smirk graced the lips of the older fighter. With a firm grasp, the prince pinched the shoulder of Kakarot’s youngest, who tried his best to avoid wincing at the gesture.
“Never forget that, boy,” the Saiyan warned in a tone that showcased his mollified demeanor, and yet, managed to still be bone chilling. Goten did not flinch.
Placated, Vegeta turned to head out of the room, leaving Goten in the dim light of the window. With the other man’s departure, Goten became aware that he had been holding in a deep breath for far too long. Confident he was alone, he finally exhaled. The hybrid was both unnerved and strangely validated by the exchange, but knew a warning when it was issued.
Never forget that, boy.
-=-=-=-
After the longer than anticipated conversation with Vegeta, Goten returned to the second floor of the ship to rejoin his friends. The living area upstairs was illuminated solely by the flickering of the TV, the sound low and almost imperceptible. Goten immediately noticed that his companions had dispersed to their respective rooms, clearly too exhausted to finish the movie. As the halfling headed to turn off the television, he caught a small flash of blue peeking out from the couch. Not everyone had vanished.
He witnessed the sleeping form of Bulla, curled up and gripping a couch cushion without a care in the world. The soft, warm glow of the television illuminated the curves of her face. A faint glance of contentment appeared on Goten’s visage with how peaceful she looked.
“Bulla,” he shook her lightly, though not even a peep emitted from the girl upon doing so. Goten increased his force ever so gently, receiving just a twitch of her nose in response. A small scoff of amusement reverberated in the room. What an ironic twist of fate.
He thought about just covering her with a blanket and letting her stay in this blissful state unperturbed. Yet, his protective nature kicked in, not wanting to leave her exposed and disoriented upon waking. Part of him wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, so he simply decided to go with his gut.
Slowly and delicately, Goten lifted the princess into his arms as he made his way towards her bedroom. While cradling her petite frame, he gazed down to marvel at how much she had grown since the last time he had carried her to bed. When she was a child, it was a common scenario; Bulla would often want to try staying up late with the boys only to be the first one to fall asleep. With Trunks usually indifferent at whether Bulla stayed on the couch or in her bed, the task to make her more comfortable often fell to Goten, which never seemed to bother him. Though child Bulla was already exceptionally cute wide awake, there was something about her slumbering stature that always managed to stall Goten’s heart. In her most vulnerable state, it was when he was the most protective of the princess. Years later, he still felt that way.
Not so unlike all those past times, Goten held her tightly to ensure she wouldn’t fall. Easy enough for a Saiyan hybrid of his strength to do, and yet, he took extra care with his unofficial assignment. Catching sight of her once more, it was clear that Bulla’s features were womanly and full-grown, something that Goten had been well aware of for a while. The little girl he reminisced about now only lingered in his memories. It was a weird mix of grief and relief; to be able to see her in a new light as he had been but realizing that things would never be quite how they were before, when their situation was far simpler.
She stirred against his broad chest, the warmth of her cheek pressing through the thin fabric of his shirt. Even clothed, he still felt her heat. Goten’s breath quickened as he finally reached the door of the room Bulla was staying in. With impressive grace, Goten managed to enter the heiress’ makeshift domain with her still sleeping soundly in his arms. The hybrid effortlessly set her on the bed, pulling the sheets back to cover her body as he tucked her in. He heard a soft keen of contentment out of Bulla’s parted lips, noting that they looked especially full by the dim light of the cosmos glistening through her window.
Unable to tear himself away, Goten sat at the edge of the bed admiring the other half-Saiyan as her chest rose and fell with each slow breath. Her long aqua tresses were dispersed out onto her pillow behind her head, save for a few stray strands. Instinctively, Goten slipped the rogue vibrant locks behind Bulla’s ear, the contact causing a small smile to appear on the sleeping heiress’ face. Prompting a smile of his own, his attraction to her had never been purer. Goten often chastised himself for having less than perfect thoughts of late concerning the sister of his best friend, yet somehow, the only thing on his mind was simply how exquisite she was and how badly he wanted to lie down next to her—nothing sensual, but merely to sleep with the sweet beauty in his hold.
“B-Chan,” he whispered to no one, his innocent fantasy stirring a funny sensation inside his bones.
Moonbeams permeated through the glass to illuminate her gorgeous face, a celestial guide for Goten to trace upon. The same fingers that had adjusted her loose hair voyaged down towards her cheek. She had incredible cheekbones, he thought candidly, and they were especially noticeable when she laughed. Her softness reminded him of the night of her birthday when he cupped them in his hands. Fondly remembering the feeling, it was a few seconds before Goten could bring himself to cease the gentle action, a mellifluous sigh released upon doing so.
With careful finesse, the elder halfling maneuvered off Bulla’s bedframe and stepped soundlessly towards the doorway. A small ache in his heart with each step away from her, but this wasn’t his room. It wasn’t his place.
He convinced himself of this, until he heard a faint whisper suggesting otherwise.
“Stay.”
Goten froze in place as the nearly inaudible request echoed through his eardrums. He returned his focus back to the heiress; she still appeared to be sleeping, although he spotted one eyelid halfway open. His breath hastened wondering if he had simply imagined hearing her dulcet tone, but the thunderous heartbeat inside his breast suggested otherwise.
They eyed each other, fully aware they had the other person’s attention. Goten knew what she asked of him; a slight tremble of his lower lip indicated him wanting to answer her. Somehow, the words failed to come out. Even he didn’t have the faintest idea of what he would say.
She slowly opened her other eye, both pale orbs of cerulean now reflecting the supernal light of the galaxy outside her window. Goten couldn’t move. He was lost in her entirely. His hesitance only furthered her petitioning.
“Just for a little while,” Bulla continued in a quiet tone full of earnestness. “Please?”
Then and there, he nearly forgot the warning her father had issued earlier in the night. Then and there, the only request that filled his thoughts was hers and hers alone.
Without a word, Goten about-faced back in the direction of the princess, taking off his shoes as he approached the other side of her bed. Almost unsure what to do, he paused momentarily before placing himself over the covers that Bulla was tucked under. Though the bed wasn’t all that big, the dark-haired hybrid left enough space to fit another person between them. He was already breaking an unspoken commandment just by being there; Goten didn’t need to add fuel to the fire.
In the stillness, neither one of them took a breath. Sensing his hesitation, Bulla inched her body backwards so that there was nearly no space between them any longer. The darkness made it hard to tell, but her whole countenance changed bright red at her forwardness. Despite the momentary bout of courage, Bulla could not steady her rapid heartrate. Goten’s own countenance deepened its shade as her frame pressed upon his. Gulping hard, the halfling man was unprepared for another bold action by the Saiyan Princess as the arm at his side found itself at her hip, enveloping her in a gentle hold, his palm resting at the top of her hand.
When the initial shock of the action wore off, Goten intuitively tightened his grasp around the heiress, his head burying into the soft, turquoise tresses of fragrant coconut that laid fanned about beneath him. Weeks prior, he had envisioned falling asleep in those luscious locks Bulla possessed and part of him wondered if he had somehow conjured this moment into existence. Before he had the chance to do so himself, the younger half-Saiyan mewled a contented sigh, her own grip squeezing. Goten’s lips formed a smile.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay long; someone would have been bound to notice if he did. Yet, Goten felt unable to wrench away, even if he had wanted to; he was in her orbit and her gravitational pull held immense power. Planets could bow to her if she desired them to. That was the might of the Saiyan Princess.
Goten didn’t stand a chance.
“Just for a little bit,” the older man paraphrased, keeping a respectable distance from her ear canal, yet the move still sent shivers down her spine.
Bulla embraced his arms with greater firmness than before as he spoke. She was hardly able to make sense of it all, but the last thing she wanted to do was ruin the moment by bringing logic into it. All she could do was enjoy the feel of his arms around her, his recognizable scent lulling her to sleep with its comforting familiarity.
For all his insistence about only staying temporarily, Goten’s own eyes wilted with weariness from the day. With one final inhale of her hair, he told himself he’d have to pull away. Let her go.
It was the last stream of consciousness Goten had before slumber claimed them both.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 7 and somebody’s in heaven…for now, hehe :)
This chapter had the first of several Goten & Vegeta flashbacks and while this one is a particular favorite of mine; I’m excited for them all. Their dynamic is especially important in multiple ways, so can’t wait to share more down the line.
Chapter 8: The big arrival on Souljin is cause for some fanfare and introductions.
As always, thank you to the kind reviewers/readers who truly make me feel so treasured throughout this process. Being able to share my love for these characters with others is an immense honor and know I am so grateful to you all!
-SonChan
Chapter 9: Chapter 8: More
Summary:
Chapter 8: The big arrival on Souljin is cause for some fanfare and introductions.
Notes:
Disclaimers: Per usual, I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the title of Planet Souljin. Lore and characters (save for Kail) are all my creation.
Author’s Note: Eek! We finally make it to Souljin this chapter. I’m beyond delighted that the flashback scene affected so many—it’s something that I quite taken with and it’s a joy to share these moments with you all.
In this chapter, we will re-meet characters and meet some new ones. As mentioned in my disclaimer, the only one I don’t own is Kail. He was a creation of my old friend Majin_Angel_Chan and, frankly, the reason I decided upon using Souljin as a setting! His appearance in this story is a little limited because of his age in this, but I plan to use his character for future writings. Some of you may have stumbled upon my old FF fics with him in it, so hopefully it’s a fun little Easter Egg for those who recognized the name!
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Take My Breath Away, more
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 8: More
He had sworn it was all a dream.
At least, that is what Goten convinced himself when the absence of morning light filtered through the room. Somewhere in between asleep and awake, that drowsy haze played tricks on his restless mind. Surely, he wouldn’t have listened to the princess’ request to stay the night. Surely, if he had stayed for a bit, he would have left before falling asleep.
Neither of those things were true.
Space didn’t exactly make it easy to tell the time, but it felt early. As Goten’s eyelids gradually lifted to reveal where he was, his sense of smell twitched at a tropical scent. It was one that was becoming a core association with the noble daughter. His head lifted from the sea of blue on the pillow beneath him to reveal the lovely lady in his grasp.
Bulla was breathtaking in any form, but the older hybrid admired her like a work of art as she lay peacefully in her bed.
Her grip was firm, yet thankfully, he was a tad stronger. Goten loosened his arms from around her, the faintest whimper uttered from her sleeping lips upon doing so. Had it been his choice, and had it been just the two of them on this spaceship, he wouldn’t have left that spot unless death itself came for him. And even then…
Stop that, the hybrid warned himself.
Goten’s task at hand to vacate the room was a rather pressing matter and he couldn’t pine at a time like this. Hell, what was he thinking? This was Bulla Briefs…he couldn’t pine at all.
Slowly, he slinked away to the exit, picking up his shoes nearby since his sock-covered feet would make less noise. Careful not to wake her, Goten creaked open the door, bidding one last look at Bulla. Even sleeping, she seemed almost ethereal. If only there was more time to admire her in this state, he thought; sadly, though, he knew this was not to be. With catlike speed, he positioned himself outside and closed the door.
Tiptoeing back into his own bedroom, Goten exhaled at his own fantastical luck that none of the early risers had been in the upstairs hallway yet. Making his way to the unused bed, the half-Saiyan figured he had an hour to catch some additional shuteye. Though his nerves were multiplying, Goten wanted to maintain the illusion that he had been alone. All the while pretending as if he hadn’t spent the night with the most beautiful woman in the universe in his arms.
But she did…and he relished the memory, as recently as it was.
She fit into him like a glove. Her tiny body, petite yet full of power, spooned against his sturdy frame as if she were made for him. Goten thought about how he could’ve spent hours tangled up in her, enmeshed with the heiress completely. He grabbed one of his extra pillows and held the cushion against his chest, but for all its gentle softness, the padding couldn’t even begin to replicate the warmth of Bulla’s body.
It was a stark reminder that maybe nothing ever would.
…
“Yo! Goten…up and at ‘em.”
Trunks knocked rapidly, knowing how the Son man could be during a deep sleep. Naturally, after spending years of sleepovers and camping trips together, the elder halfling knew the other man’s habits to a tee.
“Go away, Mom…”
The voice inside the room garbled out incoherently and Trunks was more than amused at his friend’s still dreamlike state. “I don’t think your mom would be happy to know you think she sounds like a man,” he laughed, knocking once again.
A disheveled Goten answered the door, looking exhausted. Yawning, the tired man stretched as it quickly registered to him that Trunks was already dressed for the day…with a familiar sword attached to his back.
“Oh no dude,” Goten began disbelieving, “you didn’t actually bring the sword?”
Trunks looked taken aback. “I said I would,” he answered. Goten raised a brow at his friend’s unusual accessory.
“Do you…even remember how to fight with it?” the younger demi-Saiyan asked tentatively.
The other hybrid scoffed. “It’ll be a piece of cake,” Trunks insisted. “It’s like riding a bike! I’ll figure it out.”
Goten opened his mouth to say something else, but decided against it. If his friend wanted to go this route, and embarrass himself to the high heavens and back, then he was going to let him. The youngest Son went to change his clothes as Trunks waited in the doorway. Something caught the lavender-haired man’s attention, however.
“Did you fall asleep in your clothes?” Trunks wondered. He found that to be strange. Facing away from his friend, Goten’s eyes widened but attempted to play it cool.
“I was pretty exhausted last night,” he said, changing into fresh pants, “must’ve passed out before I had a chance.”
“I hear you,” Trunks said rubbing a stiff shoulder. “We all were wiped. I think Bulla even passed out on the couch.”
Goten continued to switch out his clothes, gulping while turned away from Trunks. If the elder halfling’s reaction during their game last night was any indication of how he’d respond to the idea of Goten and Bulla, he’d be a dead man. He finished pulling down a shirt as he pivoted back towards the prince. Goten struggled to change the subject but realized that Trunks did that for him when something in the hallway caught his eye.
“Speaking of her highness…”
Sashaying her hips, Bulla walked towards the two men, a knowing smile on her face as she glanced at Goten before returning her attention to Trunks. “Talking about me?” the heiress asked her brother teasingly. The elder sibling rolled his eyes.
“Just how you were knocked out during the movie. You ended up hogging most of that couch, you know.”
“Such a baby,” Bulla chided, “it’s a wonder you managed to survive.”
Trunks shook his head while Goten did his best to repress a chortle. “Don’t you have better things to do than bother us, Bulla?” her brother questioned with annoyance.
“Actually, I’m here because Mom wanted you to help her get the ship ready for landing. She said for you to come ASAP.”
“Can’t you do it? I’m busy.”
“She asked me to tell you, Trunks.”
“It’s okay, Trunks; we’ll catch up after,” Goten assured. He briefly caught Bulla’s attention, and her smile indicated that she too was okay with this plan.
The eldest halfling sighed, muttering under his breath as he obeyed his mother’s command via her proxy. When it was clear that Trunks was no longer within earshot, Bulla and Goten leaned inward, both with a look of contentment on their faces. Tucking her hair behind her ear, the princess was the first to speak.
“You stayed.”
Her hands fell delicately behind her back, posture all proper. The softhearted smile seemed to sway the silent demi-Saiyan into speaking. “You asked me to,” Goten answered gently.
Bulla’s beam blossomed into a full-blown, toothy grin. “I appreciate that,” she began blushing a smidge, “last night felt…nice.”
She tried to convey what she could in whatever paltry words came out. Goten could feel his chest tighten seeing her so satisfied. As much as he would have loved to tell her exactly what the previous night meant to him as well, he knew he had to voice his concerns.
“Bulla,” Goten spoke, “before bed, I had an interesting conversation with your dad.”
Her jovial mood shifted in an instant, the weight of Goten’s statement hitting her like a brick. All Bulla could think about was how she failed to share her suspicions about Vegeta’s own hunches with the other hybrid. A wave of guilt washed over the heiress, not sure what he was about to reveal.
“How did that go?” Bulla asked.
“Well,” the other halfling began, “he definitely knew about me training you.”
Knowing her suspicions were correct made the bluette sick to her stomach. Bulla turned to the side and groaned. “Shit,” she hissed under her breath. Suddenly, a look of great concern graced her countenance. “Dad didn’t…go off on you, right?” the princess questioned.
Her worried appearance touched Goten, a slight smile showcasing through. He shook his head. “Nah, I held my own,” the older demi-Saiyan answered with a hint of pride. That thought brought a small amount of comfort to Bulla, grateful her father’s rage didn’t unleash itself against her crush. Goten resumed speaking once more, not yet done with his recollection of the previous encounter. “Shockingly,” he started again, “he’s open to the idea of me continuing to train you.”
Bulla made a face. “You’re kidding,” she responded, complete with healthy doubt.
“The man is full of surprises,” Goten chimed. A sense of satisfaction washed over him, feeling proud of how he had managed the situation the night before. “He wants you to be at your best, however you get there. Even if it means being tutored by Kakarot’s spawn.”
They both chuckled at her father’s words coming out of Goten’s mouth. Bulla could hardly believe that her overbearing Saiyan Prince of a dad would be so open to the idea, and it certainly impressed her that Goten came out of that interaction unscathed. It was almost enough to give her hope that maybe Vegeta would be a little more open-minded to other things.
After a beat, his appearance altered itself into an expression of trepidation. “Bulla,” he resumed with a graver tone, “he also seemed to get a sense that there might be something else going on.”
Her cobalt eyes broadened. “Like what?” she inquired with curiosity.
With a telling look, Goten met her gaze, his dark orbs piercing into the depths of her soul. “Bulla…” he trailed off. He didn’t want to say it aloud if he didn’t have to.
Wrinkling her brow, Bulla still wasn’t following. Goten made a face, as if this unspoken communication would clue her in but she needed verbal confirmation. The lack of clarity confounded her, and in actuality, ticked the princess off. He was being evasive again, and she didn’t appreciate it. “Like what, Goten?” Bulla repeated, firmer than before.
“Like,” Goten sighed as he found himself unable to continue. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “C’mon Bulla, you know what I mean.”
“Clearly I don’t,” the bluette said, glaring.
“That we’ve been…”
Goten could barely finish his sentence. What had they been doing? They only ever kissed once. Nearly twice. While that kiss lingered on lips like a familiar song, Goten had been trying his hardest to not sing it. The two had hugged more times than he could count. That hadn’t been out of the ordinary, and yet, every little bit of contact with her skin burned something within. He knew he had been feeling more than friendship for her, and clearly, she for him. Even her father picked up on that. Why couldn’t he just bring himself to say it?
“That we’ve been closer?” Bulla finished for him, in a much terser manner than Goten was used to. “I get that my dad is my dad, and I’m not exactly dying to share everything with him either, but I don’t appreciate the mixed signals, Goten.”
Her words punched him in the gut. This was not going the way he wanted it to go.
“Look, B-Chan, I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said earnestly. Goten sighed. The not-so-subtle indication Vegeta gave him that he was being watched made him understandably nervous. Goten didn’t want to give the prince any more ammunition than he needed, especially since he barely crawled his way out of a near lie. “Vegeta was just very clear with me last night. Even though I got out of the training secret in one piece, I highly doubt he’d appreciate trying to get anything else past him.”
The princess scoffed in response. “If you were so concerned, Goten,” she added with a bite, “why did you stay the night?”
In response, the elder half-Saiyan just looked blankly at her, almost uncertain of the answer himself. His heart tugged, not wanting to upset her further. “You asked me to,” Goten restated from earlier. It wasn’t what she had hoped to hear, but it was the truth. That didn’t seem to please Bulla in the slightest.
“So, whose opinion matters more, then? My father’s or mine?”
“B—”
His puppy dog eyes normally would have worked on her, but Bulla was too proud in that moment. She wasn’t blind to his predicament; the princess just hoped that with all they had been through the past couple of months, he’d make the choice to ignore it. Bulla internally chastised her naivety.
“Don’t,” she snapped in frustration. With her arms folded and a vein forming on her forehead, Bulla was no longer her mother’s clone but her father’s twin. The bitterness soon manifested as disappointment. “I just thought—”
The heiress inhaled through her nose, trying to prevent her emotions from taking control. In her memory, Bulla could still sense how comforting Goten’s arms felt the night before. How strong, how protective…she never wanted him to stop holding her. Last night felt like they were making progress and here he was, unable to even say what was going on between them. A suppressed shudder lodged in her throat, tears threatening to spill but the bluette kept them at bay. Her pride wouldn’t let her seem weak in that moment.
“I don’t know what I thought,” the younger demi-Saiyan continued in a quieter tone.
Goten attempted to reach for her, but understandably, Bulla tore away from the action.
“Just leave me alone,” she said, bitterness returning to her voice. “Wouldn’t want to upset my father.”
Heels clacked onto the tile as Bulla left the older Saiyan to his own devices. Regrettably, he watched her leave without chasing after her. Goten’s feet frozen in place. A disgusted sigh left his lips, knowing he upset the princess despite his desire not to.
“Idiot,” the halfling whispered slinking down on his bed.
He should have denied her request to stay from the get-go. As much as he wanted to be there with her, Goten should have been firm. Especially so soon after his meeting with Vegeta, he knew they were tempting fate. What was he thinking? Goten was the older one—it wasn’t fair of him to give her false hope.
Goten didn’t have time to sulk for long, as a robotic voice sounded over the intercom. We are now approaching Planet Souljin, departure will begin in approximately ten minutes.
Taking a deep breath, the half-Saiyan rose to collect his things; whatever rift he created with Bulla would have to be patched up later.
…
The gang was all gathered with their belongings in the ship’s central area where the entrance and cockpit were situated. Bulma and Trunks worked to land smoothly, while Vegeta and Piccolo leaned against the wall in silence. Uub was conversing with his master and Gohan, and Bulla was with Pan and Marron, the trio excitedly looking out the window as they descended into Souljin’s atmosphere. Goten walked in with his suitcase, scouring the room to find Bulla, but noticed she was engrossed by the view before her. The display of the planet put her in a seemingly better mood than when she left him. He decided to stay back, so as not to disturb her further.
“Alright, I think it goes without saying I expect this group to be on their best behavior,” Bulma said while lowering the ship. She immediately locked eyes with Goku. “That goes double for you, mister.”
“Me?” Goku said pointing at himself, perplexed. Bulma’s eyes narrowed in.
“You know exactly what I mean, Goku. Decorum isn’t your area of expertise, I know,” she said with a large sigh, “but please try for once. Don’t embarrass us in front of the Souljin King.”
He was about to protest before getting gently prodded in the ribs by Gohan. “Maybe just take extra care to be polite, Dad,” his eldest suggested gently.
Once again, Goku was about to open his mouth, but Vegeta cut him off this time. “Kakarot…” he said like a warning.
The other pureblood pouted, but quickly was distracted as the aerial spectacle of a glittering city lay before them. He joined the women already staring out the window, as did the rest of the passengers, save for Goten keeping his distance, as well as Vegeta and Piccolo being their stoic selves. The youngest Son still watched from afar the amazing sight coming into view.
Gohan flipped through his vast array of notes to describe the scene. The capital they would be in was known as Souljin City. While it was still a little speck from afar, the city slowly came into view. Massive manmade structures, as well as a vast landscape of desert and forestry, sprawled across the land. A towering mountain range, situated behind the city, with its largest peak sporting a waterfall cascading down provided a nearby river with its water source.
“Wow,” Bulla breathed, face against the glass. The same robotic intercom voice spoke once more.
Now approaching, Planet Souljin—please prepare yourself descent and departure.
“Hang on, everyone!” Bulma instructed and she and Trunks gracefully guided the shuttle towards the designated airfield near the city walls.
-=-=-=-
As the spaceship touched down on Souljin, there was already a small retinue of palace soldiers and servants awaiting the visitors, along with two familiar faces: Prince Zasso and General Taikan.
“Salutations, my friends!” Prince Zasso rang out happily. Bulma waved as they approached.
“Prince Zasso, General Taikan, so nice to see you again,” she nodded. The prince reached for her hand to kiss it, a move from their previous meeting that made Bulma flush and giggle like a schoolgirl. Annoyed, Vegeta cleared his throat.
Both Zasso and General Taikan bowed towards Vegeta. “Prince Vegeta, an honor to have you and your family on our humble planet,” Zasso continued, paying due reverence to the Saiyan Prince.
Vegeta hmphed in response, not before noticing the lack of the other members of the royal family before them. “Your father decided to not come and greet us?” he asked with slight irritation in his voice.
“He eagerly awaits us all in the throne room of the palace with my brothers,” Prince Zasso replied. A look of displeasure graced the Saiyan’s face, but the Souljin Ambassador remained undeterred. General Taikan nodded in agreement.
“Come, we will head there now—it is not far. The palace servants with gather your belongings, and my soldiers will accompany us,” the military man stated.
As Prince Zasso snapped his fingers, the workers went to grab the various items the Z Fighters had and efficiently gathered them together. General Taikan made a hand gesture that prompted his soldiers to form a line on either side of the group, leaving the Earthlings amazed at the discipline they showed. Vegeta let out a disapproving click. “Seems excessive to have this number of guards,” he muttered loud enough to be heard.
“A precaution merely,” Taikan responded, starting to lead the group towards the outline of their destination. “I assure you, Souljin is very safe. The biggest commotion tends to be thievery or minor disputes. My soldiers keep the peace quite well.”
“Yes, General Taikan has a master military mind,” Prince Zasso praised, “my father entrusts all of Souljin’s security to him and his team.”
“Big responsibility,” Goku commented cheerily.
“An honor,” General Taikan returned, “I live to serve Souljin the best way I can.”
While the General continued the conversation with the front of the line, the Souljin Ambassador softened his steps. Feeling like someone was observing him, Prince Zasso turned his head and made eye contact with Marron who had been starting unintentionally. With a quiet smile, he slowed his pace to line up with her. “Lady Marron,” Zasso acknowledged quietly, “how lovely to see you made it.”
Bulla and Pan hung back, quietly giggling and giving their friend some space. Goten and Uub also took the hint and made some room for the prince to stand beside her.
Trunks did no such thing.
Marron beamed at the handsome prince, ignoring an obvious grunt from Trunks on the other side of her. “Happy to be here, Prince Zasso,” she murmured back.
“Zasso,” the prince corrected sweetly.
“Zasso,” Marron repeated, a faint blush on her cheeks.
“I trust the journey was not…troublesome?” Zasso questioned, with a hint of understanding. Marron’s cheeks reddened deeper, recalling the difficulty her stomach had initially, until she was unaided by an unlikely source.
“Marron did great,” Trunks interjected, surprising the blonde and pleasing the Souljin Ambassador.
“Glad to hear it,” Prince Zasso replied happily. His eyes lit up when he saw the sword on Trunks’ back. “Prince Trunks! I’m delighted you brought your sword with you.”
The younger Saiyan Prince shifted. “Said I would,” he stated, feeling awkward.
Marron returned the favor this time. “Trunks is looking forward to showing off his skills,” she said admiringly. The lavender-haired man appeared shocked at the comment but nodded.
Prince Zasso smiled at the two. “I shall look forward to that as well, Prince Trunks!”
Trunks tipped his head as he looked off to the side, deep in thought. The Souljin royal leaned in towards the pretty human. He lightly brushed his hand on Marron’s shoulder. “Just wanted to say a quick hello, but I should head back up. I hope to speak with you once settled though.”
Marron nodded as Prince Zasso gave one last squeeze before returning towards the front. Blushing, her blue eyes met Trunks’ who did his best to appear unbothered by the exchange. She was about to thank Trunks for being civil for once when Marron felt her arms hook on either side as Bulla and Pan clung closely, eager for gossip. The women chuckled while admiring the bevy of buildings surrounding them. Trunks let his eyes linger on the blonde for a moment before working to immerse himself in conversation with Uub and Goten as they walked.
Uub chatted happily, but Goten was still distracted, watching the bluette ahead of him laugh as if nothing had happened.
“And here we are,” Prince Zasso’s voice rang out as they approached the castle walls.
The group lifted their heads in unanimity, as the wide doors seceding the palace from the outside city started to open up for them, revealing the magnificence that lay inside.
The opulence of the Souljin Palace was staggering.
A mighty citadel in the middle of Souljin City; its grand structure rivaled anything remotely similar to Earth. The architecture was a mix of modern and mythical, evoking a Byzantine feel, but with fresh, technological advances. Adorned with an array of intricate ingot and granite throughout the stonework, this bastion of masonic mastery dwarfed any who approached it.
Inside the front courtyard, dozens of people gathered throughout, a mix of palace staff and eager onlookers to watch the travelers. Interested murmurs ricocheted throughout the piazza. Superbly manicured gardens aligned the pathway, all encased within the looming walls that separated the fortress from the outer city. Prince Zasso led the group to a grand staircase constructed from pure marble. Halfway up the stairs, a flat platform spanned the center, providing a prime location for royal addresses to the masses.
Balconies draped alongside the castle walls, carved from precious stone, and covered in a bevy of ivy. Open air columns and doorways drew in the breath of the metropolis at its gates yet removed enough to be its own little utopia. In the back courtyard, a mountain stream cascaded down into the ponds of the water gardens. Garlanded with lush flora and vegetation, the small slice of paradise looked as enchanting as could be. A vast hedge maze full of fountains and beautifully fabricated gazebos made for a breathtaking scene. Echoes from a nearby menagerie filled the air with various animal noises amidst the eclectic array of voices from the palace attendees.
“Isn’t this something, Vegeta?” Bulma tried to engage her husband. Vegeta merely grunted; his mind preoccupied elsewhere. A faint whistle exited Goku’s lips.
“Whoa,” the other pureblood said aloud, “quite the digs you’ve got Zasso!”
Prince Zasso chuckled with amusement at the Saiyan’s mannerisms. “My father’s palace of course,” he corrected, “but I have the boon of good pedigree. He generously provides for my brothers and myself.”
“Sounds like a pretty great guy!” Goku chimed happily. “Can’t wait to meet ‘em!”
“Believe me, he’s quite eager to meet all of you,” Zasso added.
General Taikan made a hand gesture to the guards at the entryway. Another set of shadowing gates opened up giving castle access to the group. The general and prince continued to lead them all through until they approached what looked to be the foyer of the throne room.
“It’ll be right through here, Prince Vegeta,” Zasso explained, “they’ll announce you all to the court for introductions.”
“I wasn’t wanting all this fanfare,” Vegeta said harshly.
“Just protocol, Your Highness,” General Taikan added, “King Engei wanted to pay respect.”
“I’d rather he respect our time,” the Saiyan Prince grunted, “it’s been a tiring journey.”
“Vegeta!” Bulma chastised.
Prince Zasso waved his hand. “Fret not, Lady Bulma, I understand your husband’s point.”
“He sure could be a lot nicer about it,” she hissed in his direction, earning a “tch” in response.
“If you’ll just indulge the ceremony for a little bit, I promise to get you on your way, Prince Vegeta,” Zasso guaranteed. The proud prince said nothing further. With that, General Taikan once more signaled for the guards to open the doors.
…
Bulla unlinked her arms from her friends as her parents motioned for her and Trunks to join them at their side. She briefly glanced back and saw Goten’s wide-eyed gape, promptly causing her to scowl as she turned around in a huff.
The elegant throne room was just as regal as the rest of the Souljin Palace, and the crowd of courtiers whispered with glee as the Z Fighters made their way inside. Still following General Taikan and Prince Zasso, they slowly inched forward. As fanfare trumpeted out to signal their arrival, Prince Zasso nodded to a Herald near the doorway, reading off a scroll.
“Presenting His Highness Prince Vegeta the IV,” the Herald began, “with his wife, the Earthling, Lady Bulma, and their children and heirs, Prince Trunks Vegeta Briefs and Princess Bulla Briefs.”
Bulla and Trunks glanced at one another, not used to their formal titles, in spite of jokingly called “prince” and “princess” by their friends. It felt a little surreal.
“In their company is Saiyan Third-Class Kakarot, also known as Son Goku, along with his progeny Son Gohan, Son Goten, and granddaughter Son Pan. Also in attendance are the Earthlings Majin Uub, Lady Marron and…oh my…” the Herald announcing them seemed perplexed when it came to Piccolo, who in all fairness, was a last-minute addition to the traveling group.
“Just Piccolo,” he responded. The Namekian gave a subtle glower, and the Herald immediately went back to his list to continue with his speech.
“Well then,” the Herald resumed with fresh nerves, “and one Piccolo.”
Chuckling could be heard from the youngest Souljin prince. “Fret not, Onaji, I’ll manage it from here,” Prince Zasso signaled to the Herald, who pressed up against the wall with relief. Marron silently appreciated the kind gesture, solidifying the prince’s nature.
The Ambassador guided the group towards the front of the throne room, walking backwards with ease to face them and to address the royal family who were coming closer into view. Atop a decorated throne, sat the crowned figure of King Engei, surrounded by several other family members at either side. The king’s face was mostly stoic, although his bright green eyes did seem entranced by the entourage before him. After clearing his throat, Prince Zasso resumed the preambles.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of Earth,” the Ambassador started to speak. “May I now present His Royal Majesty, the Sovereign of Souljin, Second Son of King Enju the Third, Descendent of the Saiyan line of House Houren, as well as the Soulan line of House Hinageshi, the incomparable, the benevolent, King Engei the First.”
Impressed by his perfect introduction, King Engei offered a warm smile and nod to the group.
They congregated in a straight line in front of the grandiose throne, with Vegeta’s family front and center. Prince Zasso and General Taikan lowered themselves to the ground to bow. Looking at one another for confirmation, the Z Fighters followed suit with the same gesture, even a reluctant Piccolo. All bowed before the Souljin King and royal family, save for Vegeta.
The proud Saiyan folded his arms, not wavering in eye contact from the green-eyed king in front of him. This earned him another hiss from his wife, but he remained in place.
Bulla took note of the royal family surrounding the elderly king. To his immediate right, a long-haired man with eyes that matched King Engei’s own pair, stood proudly. His expression was stoic, very proper. A circlet crown of gold graced his head of brown hair. Putting together what clues she had, Bulla deduced this must have been the Crown Prince.
At his side, a lovely woman with a head of auburn and golden eyes held a young toddler. The small boy seemed to be behaved enough, only moving slightly in his mother’s arms, but clearly engrossed in his own little world. Bulla smiled at the child’s playful personality, noting his little tail curled around the chestnut-haired woman’s elbow. His own set of golden eyes were large and curious, ignoring the rest of the room as he happily clung to his mother.
Those features closely matched the man on the other side of King Engei, who was just as handsome as Prince Zasso, if not more. Raven-haired spikes contrasted his gilded eyes perfectly, his skin slightly more tanned, a sign of more time spent outdoors. The colors of his royal armor were darker, favoring more charcoal and gold. His jaw was sharp, and the edges of his lips had a pleased smirk on his face. This must be the middle brother, Bulla thought.
She couldn’t deny his attractiveness, but there was certainly an air about him that didn’t match his two siblings. Zasso was warm, Kusa a bit cooler; Bulla couldn’t quite figure out where Toge fell.
In her reverie, his penetrating gaze found its way towards her set of cerulean. With great intent, he eyed her up and down, delighted with what he saw. The bluette tilted her face downwards for a moment to blush before resuming brief contact. It was at this moment she noticed that while the middle prince’s head was still pointed in her direction, his eyes shifted to the side, a small flicker of amusement clear.
This prompted Bulla to turn her head to see what caught Prince Toge’s attention. Amidst everyone else’s head focused ahead, she realized one member of their group was focused on her and nothing else.
Obsidian orbs obliterated her as only they could.
Realizing that he had been caught staring, Goten tore his eyes away, a deeper shade of red than before. She saw him look at the prince for a moment, the two men making clear eye contact, before drooping his head down again. Her lips pursed as she pondered the previous action, a sudden rush of blood to the head. The heiress was still angry from earlier but felt validated in some small way. Bulla shook off the distraction when it was evident the king was about to make a move.
With a quiet grace, King Engei rose from his throne and swanned across the room to right in front of Vegeta. The Saiyan Prince studied the old man’s face, no doubt searching for hints of familiarity from their brief meeting in his childhood. King Engei’s piercing green eyes did seem to resonate with the brash Saiyan as the two men gazed intently at one another. Vegeta finally allowed himself to tip over, joining the rest of the Earthlings in a bowed position.
“King Engei,” he spoke quietly.
“Prince Vegeta…”
Lifting his head to watch the reaction of the Souljin King, there was no change that Vegeta could see. With that, he stood back up fully in order to observe further. After a brief period of silence, the nonexistent expression that had graced the king’s face suddenly grew into a pleasant grin. His arms wasted no time wrapping around Vegeta, which shocked not only the Saiyan Prince, but his companions as well.
“Family does not bow!”
Vegeta, still surprised by the warm reaction, could hardly hide the confusion on his face. He looked down at Goku who had peeked up to see the commotion and the other Saiyan merely shrugged. King Engei released the man and held his hands on his shoulders for a few seconds before moving on to lift Bulma and their kids to their feet. “Up, up!” the king insisted with warmth in his voice as he embraced Bulma next. Though also a bit confused, the siblings looked at each other before nodding at King Engei and standing up. “My dear friends,” the Souljin ruler said with presumed familiarity, “welcome to our planet!”
“King Engei,” Bulma began politely, “we thank you for your generous hospitality.”
“Lady Bulma, the pleasure is all mine,” King Engei spoke with glee, kissing her hand in the same manner that Prince Zasso had earlier.
“My son Zasso informed me you are quite a scientist. I know that Dr. Niwa is eager to collaborate with you and Son Gohan. I trust you’ll find our technologic advances to your liking.”
“King Engei—”
Vegeta tried to get in a word edgewise, but the king was already distracted with the half-Saiyan siblings before him.
“Ah!” Engei exclaimed. “The prince and princess—how wonderful to see the line of Vegeta healthy and strong!”
“Your Highness,” both Bulla and Trunks said in practiced unison, which surprised them both as they observed the other.
The king embraced them as well, moving slowly down the line. On the opposite side of Vegeta, the Souljin monarch glanced with interest at the still bowed Goku, who was trying his hardest to be diplomatic.
“And this must be…”
Immediately, Goku shot up to a standing position to give an awkward salute. “Sir! My name is Son Goku, sir! It is excellent to meet you, sir!” the pureblood Saiyan shouted in an unfamiliar, robotic manner. Goten and Gohan sighed quietly, still kneeled.
Merely chuckling, King Engei patted Goku’s shoulders. “Wonderful to meet you, Son Goku,” he declared with a hearty laugh. “You and your family are more than welcome here.”
Goku rubbed the back of his head, feeling a little more at ease. “Gee, thanks, Your Highness!” he said, returning the pat with unintentional excessive force. King Engei did his best to not react to the strong tap, though he winced in presumed pain. Each one of the Z Fighters could barely contain their worry. Goku’s sons in particular looked rather panicked by their father’s excessive force.
With a strained yet pleasant voice, King Engei uttered, “I see that Saiyan strength is still tough as ever!”
They all sighed in relief.
He politely moved down the line, quietly acknowledging the Son family and Uub as he strode. Although, he stopped rather intrigued when he reached the towering figure of Piccolo at the end. “By Jove!” King Engei exclaimed. “You are even taller than General Taikan, I dare say.”
Piccolo remained emotionless as he responded, “While I was born on Earth, my origins are—”
“Namekian, correct?” Engei finished for him. As Piccolo nodded, the king beamed. “I haven’t seen a Namekian up close in almost sixty years. What a treat for you to join us, Piccolo!”
“Your Highness—” Vegeta was still attempting to catch the other royal’s attention in vain. His voice was getting curter by the minute.
King Engei took note of Marron all the way at the end, still bowed. The ruler lowered himself to her level and gently tipped her chin up, a flush of pink evident on her cheeks. “Sir,” she said meekly, “I-I mean, Your Majesty.”
“Oh, Zasso was quite right,” King Engei said releasing her chin, “Earthling women are striking to say the least!”
Marron couldn’t hide the smile as she briefly caught Zasso giving her a wink. Her heart aflutter, she turned her attention back to King Engei. “Thank you for allowing us to come along,” the blonde continued, a little more strength in her voice.
“The pleasure is ours, Lady Marron—thank you for indulging our request.”
“Engei!”
The sharp voice of Vegeta silenced the room. Prince Kusa looked offended at the other prince’s tone, while Toge seemed to admire the command the Saiyan man held. King Engei lifted Marron to her feet as he rose, not losing eye contact with his distant cousin. Bulma glared at her husband and nudged him with her elbow to scold him. “Vegeta,” she whispered harshly under her breath.
“I should like a few moments of your time…alone,” Vegeta continued sternly, but less severe than before.
The royal Souljin nodded, unfazed. “Yes, I should like that as well my prince,” he agreed.
Engei cleared his throat to greet the room. “My friends,” he began, “how honored I am you could all make the voyage to Souljin. It’s been some time since we’ve had the pleasure to host, and we certainly look forward to your duration on our humble planet.”
“I know it must have been a tiring journey, so please get settled as we prepare a wonderful feast for dinner. You will have access to all the amenities the palace has to offer as well as the devoted attention of my family and staff. Please enjoy your stay!”
With another nod in Vegeta’s direction, King Engei motioned for the Saiyan Prince to follow him out towards a private balcony. The rest of the Earthlings corralled by their hosts, headed to back to the main hall.
-=-=-=-
While Zasso and Taikan led the group to their chambers, Bulla brought up the rear. Lazily, she glided along the path as Marron and Pan ahead of her seemed thoroughly engrossed in conversation. Since her father was off privately with King Engei, the rest of the gang were left to their own devices. Her mother was talking the prince’s ear off it looked like while Goku and Gohan spoke with General Taikan. Her brother and Goten chatted away with Uub. The heiress wondered if Goten would turn around to look her way, much like he did in the throne room, yet he seemed distracted enough with the others.
Absentmindedly, Bulla shifted at her side when they crossed through the main entryway. The entrance led to the front courtyard and staircase, while the back led out into the massive water gardens and back courtyard. Bulla paused to gaze out to see the beauty of the gardens, pressing up against a mighty column of alabastrine. “Wow,” she breathed inaudibly to herself.
Sounds of flowing water and avian creatures that vaguely resembled the birds on Earth, echoed in her ears as she drew a stark breath. The back courtyard extended all the way towards the mountain range and Bulla could hardly believe such a gorgeous place could exist.
How beautiful it all is, she thought.
The heiress already was so caught up in her admiration, Bulla barely noticed the group had already gone ahead without her. In a mild panic, the bluette started to dart in the direction they were headed, but stopped when she realized they were long out of sight. Before she had a chance to feel too foolish, Bulla soon learned she wasn’t alone.
“Princess!” a feminine voice rang out from behind.
Like a lighthouse in the distance, Bulla turned to see the Princess-Consort approaching with two handmaidens trailing her. Still in her arms was the young Prince Kail. “I’m glad I caught you!” Princess Hinoki sweetly stated. A grateful smile appeared on Bulla’s face.
“Your timing couldn’t be better actually,” Bulla answered blushing, “I got a bit distracted and lost the group.”
“Ah, easy to get distracted with the water gardens,” Hinoki said as she gazed out at the open columns into the orchard. A soft smile graced her lips. “I often find myself seeking out their tranquil energy when I’m in need of some peace.”
“Yeah,” Bulla responded, her aqua eyes fixated on the view.
“I’ll be happy to escort you to your chambers,” the Princess-Consort offered. She beamed at the younger woman before her. “Besides, I wanted to formally introduce myself,” Hinoki said as she handed her son to one of her handmaids. With a warm smile, she curtseyed. “It is so lovely to meet you.”
Brandishing her own bow, Bulla returned the pleasantries. “An honor to meet you, Princess Hinoki,” she tried to say in as distinguished of a manner as she could.
Hinoki clapped her hands together. “I cannot begin to tell you how excited I am to have you and your family as guests here at the palace,” she resumed, “it is too rare that we get to host anyone here, let alone those from another planet.”
Bulla gleamed as the two walked side-by-side. “It’s an incredible place,” the Saiyan Princess remarked. “Zasso’s description did not do it justice.”
“I’m delighted to hear that,” Princess Hinoki returned. The women headed towards the western sector of the palace. Light babbling emitted from the young prince as they walked. With experienced elegance, Hinoki reached for her son from the handmaiden when she noticed he was getting fussy. “Souljin is quite lovely; granted, it’s the only home I’ve ever known, but I’ve been very happy here.”
“I can see why,” Bulla answered, marveling at the intricate design of the palace. She enjoyed the breeze from the open-air columns cooling her as they passed through the vast hallway. Her attention darted downwards towards Hinoki’s backside; the lack of the Souljin tail evident.
“I hope this isn’t too personal to ask,” Bulla began again, “but I noticed you don’t have a tail like most Souljins I’ve seen. Is that common?”
Prince Kail’s tail curled around her arm as Hinoki beamed. “Very observant,” she commended. “My family is one of two remaining that come from pure Soulan lineage,” Princess Hinoki explained.
“Oh,” Bulla responded, “meaning no Saiyan ancestry then?”
“Precisely,” the Princess-Consort verified. “There aren’t many of us left, as the mixed bloodlines have been around for many generations now.”
“I see,” the other princess nodded, starting to understand.
Hinoki admired Kail playing in her arms with renewed vigor. “In spite of that, my son seems more monkey than anything!” the auburn-haired woman said good-humoredly. The two princesses laughed.
“He’s adorable,” Bulla praised. Kail’s big, golden eyes looked up at her and, as if on cue, let out a large giggle. Hinoki snuggled him close.
“My sunshine boy,” she cooed, planting a sweet kiss to his temple. Bulla felt her heart swell at the tenderness shared between the mother and son. Perhaps it was too early to know for sure, but the heiress was quite at ease with the Princess-Consort already. Both of them continued towards the royal wing, this particular section of the palace changed slightly. Instead of the open-air pillars, the walls more closed in. Large, wooden doors opened before them as two guards acknowledged Princess Hinoki with a bow.
“Your parents’ apartment is to the left and your brother’s just a few doors further,” Hinoki pointed. “The other guests are in an adjacent corridor not too far away, but you’ll have the finest amenities here in the royal wing.”
The Princess-Consort continued as they still had not yet approached Bulla’s bedchamber. “I apologize that your room is at the far end, but it faces a more isolated section of the gardens and I know how much a lady values privacy.”
Bulla’s eyes perked up. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” she said with gratitude.
Once they reached their destination, Hinoki paused to grab the hybrid’s hand. “It’ll be so nice to have another princess in the palace,” she said with a tender squeeze. “Please don’t hesitate should you need anything—mine and Kusa’s room is in the opposite corner. My handmaidens and other palace servants will be available as you desire. Your things should already be in your chamber.”
Her touch was warm and inviting, settling Bulla quite at ease. “Thank you, Hinoki,” she said sincerely. The Princess-Consort nodded as she signaled her handmaidens to follow her out, little Kail peeking over his mother’s shoulder to wave goodbye. Bulla laughed as she returned the wave, very much taken with the Souljin Princess and her young son.
Though she had no reason to be nervous, Bulla felt a hint of trepidation as she unlocked the doorknob in front of her. The bluette opened the door to reveal a large bedroom, its size well beyond her own room at home. With vaulted ceilings and a canopy bed, complete with a large balcony and master bath, Bulla stifled a shriek as she couldn’t believe the luxury of it all.
While Bulla maintained the air of adulthood and grace outside of those walls, nothing was stopping her from jumping onto the bed, squealing with delight at her fortune.
…
After freshening up with the most relaxing bath she ever took, Bulla changed into a white dress for dinner. The summery temperature of Souljin was much warmer than West City was this time of year, and she was going to enjoy the tepid air while she could.
She hummed along as she walked down the hallway, bowing her head in thanks as the guards opened the door to the main wing. Still contently humming, Bulla glanced sideways and admire the view in between the open-air columns. Her heart pounded with excitement to watch two full moons in the Souljin sky. They illuminated the water gardens so clearly and she couldn’t help but be enamored with the view.
So much so, she bumped into an unsuspecting Goten who was doing the same.
Caught off guard from his trance, Goten blinked in surprise at the unexpected encounter. "Bulla, I..." he started, trying to find the right words.
But Bulla, her frustration still simmering, interjected with a sharp tone, "I don't want to hear it, Goten."
His hurt was palpable, and he nodded slowly. "We don’t have to talk just yet…but don’t shut me out, B-Chan.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted, Goten?”
“Bulla…”
“What? Didn’t you want to not be around me anymore than you had to?”
He grabbed her wrist, gently but with firmness. “You think that’s what I want?” Goten posed the question without malice. The princess frowned.
“I don’t know what you want, because you won’t tell me,” she said.
Just as their exchange threatened to escalate the tension, the hallway came alive with the joyous sounds of their friends. Trunks, Marron, Pan, and Uub turned the corner, laughing and their refreshed faces lit up with excitement for the upcoming dinner.
"Hey, guys!" Trunks called out cheerfully, momentarily dispersing the charged atmosphere.
Bulla and Goten quickly put some distance between them, attempting to don expressions of casual indifference. "Hey!" they chimed together, seeking to conceal the earlier tension.
Pan, always observant, raised an eyebrow but chose not to delve into the issue. "You guys ready for dinner?" she asked, oblivious to the underlying drama.
"Absolutely," Bulla replied with a warm smile, momentarily pushing aside her earlier irritation.
"Definitely," Goten added, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.
As the group continued down the grand hallway, Goten and Bulla’s façade of camaraderie seemed intact. Yet, Bulla met his gaze briefly, and in an instant knew he was feeling just as uncomfortable on the inside as she was.
…
Dinner was off to an unassuming start.
The ever-expanding dining table made for an intimidating sight. At one end, the royal family sat with King Engei at the head. Like earlier, at his righthand side sat his heir and family, while Toge and Zasso filled out the other seats. On his left, Vegeta and his family occupied that side, while the Son family and other Earthlings were towards the other end with General Taikan.
In a jaw-dropping spread, dozens of dishes lay before them, the palace servant revealing them one by one. The wafting aroma and the sight of the elaborate dishes made stomachs rumble in anticipation. Goku’s stomach, in particular, earned him a disapproving look from Vegeta at the end, but the purebred Saiyan simply chuckled in embarrassment.
“I assume Saiyan appetites are similar to ours,” King Engei began, as the group did their best to not dig in like savages. “By all means, don’t hold back for the sake of decorum!”
“Alright!” Goku shouted with glee, being the first to resume his normal eating habits without further delay. The rest of the Saiyans and hybrids followed suit, although in a slightly more dignified manner.
King Engei joined in with gusto, as did Toge and Zasso, yet his son Kusa politely cut his meat with less enthusiasm than the rest. Bulla attempted to ascertain if the Crown Prince was tired or if he wasn’t as excited as the rest of his family with the travelers. Her gaze met briefly with Princess Hinoki’s, who smiled widely at the heiress as she sipped her spirits. Bulla joined in, though was taken aback at the intensity of the vino. She did her best to hide her surprise.
“Please,” General Taikan insisted to the companions closest to him, “Souljin wine is a delicacy. Do have a taste.”
Quietly, Marron raised the wine glass in front of her to her nose and when Taikan wasn’t looking, instantly put it down once the intense scent tickled her nostrils. “That smells like gasoline,” she said to Uub under her breath, trying her hardest to not be outwardly rude. Her friend lifted his own chalice, caught a whiff, and immediately put it back on the table.
“You weren’t kidding,” he agreed in near silence.
“What are you talking about?” Pan said as she eagerly finished her glass, gesturing to a servant for a refill. “This stuff is awesome.”
Both Marron and Uub eyed each other, silently committing to keeping tabs on the youngest Son family member that evening.
In between bites, Bulma attempted to make conversation with King Engei. “Your Highness,” she began.
“Engei, please Lady Bulma. We are family.”
The comment drew a look from both Vegeta and Kusa, but seconds later returned to their meals. Bulma smiled at the familial insistence.
“Three sons, Engei—strong bloodline.”
The comment was a point of pride for the noble royal. He nodded in agreement. “I’ve been blessed,” he stated, staring proudly at his progeny.
Prince Kusa offered a rare smile as he acknowledged his father’s comment with a tipped head. Zasso’s manner was affable as ever. Toge smirked amusingly as he took another sip of his wine.
“It was a difficult road to get there,” Engei shared freely. “My late wife and I struggled with fertility issues. Part of why there is a sizeable gap between Kusa and his younger brothers.”
His candidness endeared Bulma as she expressed a soft smile. “I know the feeling,” she retorted quietly, a brief glance to her daughter, who seemed surprised at the comment. While Bulla knew the twelve years Trunks had on her was quite the difference, she never gave much thought as to why. Bulma’s grateful gaze in her direction made her feel exceptionally cherished at that moment.
“Blessings truly,” Engei nodded with a small toast towards the beaming princess.
“Your Highness,” Gohan began further down the table, “I couldn’t help but notice there seemed to be a higher amount of Souljin males than females. Has that always been the case?”
“Quite observant, Son Gohan,” the king praised, “I see that scientific mind already at work. Dr. Niwa shall be pleased!”
Gohan was flattered by the compliment, clearing his throat to continue amidst his reddening cheeks. “Just an observation,” he pointed out, “I wasn’t sure if it was accurate or not.”
“It is,” Prince Zasso acknowledged once he finished chewing. “The male population of Souljin is about three-to-one higher than the female population,” the Souljin Ambassador shared.
“Fascinating,” Gohan replied.
“Planet Vegeta was similar,” Vegeta added quietly in between bites of his food. “Saiyan women weren’t as prevalent.”
“Meaning you, my dear, are quite the rarity,” King Engei answered with a kind wink towards the princess once more. Bulla blushed in response.
“Indeed,” Toge added with a sharp gleam, “both in blood and beauty.”
Across the table, Goten couldn’t help but roll his eyes, a small scoff uttered. Somehow predicting the hybrid would react the way he did, Bulla had managed to catch his displeased expression. As she saw the irritation in his onyx orbs, the feeblest of smirks grew on her face. It was not her style to bait someone into jealousy, but the daughter of the proud Saiyan Prince saw an opportunity and decided to take it.
“You flatter me, Prince Toge!” she chimed happily in his direction. The giggle Bulla added was particularly high, a little uncharacteristic for her. She could hear Trunks groan, but she didn’t care about his opinion. Without turning her head, the heiress’ eyes darted to the halfling. Bulla wanted to see if the same envious gaze was evident and to her great delight, it somehow had grown more green-eyed.
Bingo.
“Is it still flattery, if true?” Toge returned, glass raised. He also looked to his side, almost as if he knew he was being watched. The half-Saiyan in question diverted his attention towards his plate, while the middle prince toasted the princess. Bulla sipped her wine with glee, pleased with her work.
Annoyed, Goten resumed cutting into his food across the way. As he cut somewhat aggressively, Goten overheard his brother clearing his throat. He lifted his focus to see Gohan giving him a telling look. The younger sibling locked eyes momentarily, before he averted his gaze once more.
“Son Goten…”
Nearly dropping his fork at the king’s voice calling out from the table’s end, Goten turned to face King Engei. He was quite surprised by the attention from Souljin monarch. “Yes, Your Highness?”
“Your father is a fighter and your brother a scholar,” King Engei began in between bites of food, “what do you do on your home planet?”
“Oh,” Goten wasn’t expecting the question, and now felt the pressure of everyone’s eyes on him. “I suppose a mix of those things—I instruct others on how to fight.”
“For your military?” Prince Kusa questioned with a rare comment.
“No, just for those who have an interest,” Goten confirmed.
“How quaint,” Toge added with another sip. It was hard to tell if his tone was mocking or sincere, so Goten said nothing in reply.
“I think it a noble endeavor to educate those who thirst for knowledge,” Princess Hinoki interjected plainly. She caught a brief glance of the man whose smile conveyed his thanks. Her attention then turned to his father. “Clearly, Son Goku, you have a lot to be proud of with your legacy,” the Princess-Consort acknowledged.
“Sure am!” Goku vigorously exclaimed. His signature grin increased as he stopped his momentary annihilation of the Souljin cuisine in front of him. “My kids and grandkid are the best,” he said with an earnestness impossible to fake.
“Hear, hear!” King Engei acknowledged raising his glass once more. “With Prince Vegeta’s line and yours, let us toast to the Saiyan legacy living enduring.”
While the others readily followed, Vegeta was in the middle of devouring his food, unchanged. At least until Bulma gently nudged him in his ribcage, prompting the proud prince to raise his own chalice.
“Hear, hear…” he returned less enthusiastically. Vegeta felt his wife’s hand on his knee, privately thanking him.
King Engei stood to continue his toast. “As I told Prince Vegeta earlier, seeing this room full of activity again does this old man’s heart some good. I shall strive to earn your favor while you are our guests over the next few fortnights. In my initial message, I know I mentioned access to our training facilities and labs, but truly, anything in the palace or city is available to you.”
“And don’t forget about the ball,” Hinoki said clapping her hands together in excitement.
“Ah of course, forgive me daughter,” Engei continued, “how could I forget? We shall celebrate your arrival in a few days with a grand celebration to rival any that Souljin has seen!”
Murmurs amongst the table chattered excitedly at the prospect.
“I’m very intrigued by this ball,” Bulma commented, “it sounds perhaps a bit more formal than I think we’ve prepared for.”
“Leave it to me,” Hinoki insisted. “I’ve already arranged for the palace tailors to ensure we have you all looking your best for the occasion. I made the assumption that formal Saiyan Regalia was not commonplace on Earth?”
“Correct,” Bulma smiled.
“Perfect. Tomorrow, we will work in some fittings! And while the men are outfitted with the armor, I’ll also have the tailors work on gowns,” she said excitedly.
“Hear that, Vegeta? You get to see your blushing bride in a brand-new gown.”
Vegeta continued to eat without commentary.
“I’m eager to see the training facilities,” Goku said with enthusiasm. “Sounds like you’ve got some great fighters that have emerged under Taikan!”
“Room for improvement as always,” Taikan retorted modestly. “Isolation was beneficial to get our armies up to speed. Yet, brute strength is an area we could stand to improve on. Hopefully, your expertise comes in handy there, Son Goku.”
“Happy to help where I can!”
“Souljin warriors do have top-notch sword skills,” the general continued, “but in truth, I’d like to see more take after Toge.”
“Oh man!” Goku exclaimed, turning towards Toge. “Bet you’re itching for a good fight, Prince Toge. I’d love to spar with ya!”
Toge seemed tickled at the thought. “Perhaps we’ll have to arrange that.”
“And should you like to try your hand at swordplay,” General Taikan added, “Prince Kusa is the best on the planet. Prince Zasso not far on his heel.”
Trunks seemed fascinated by the comment, briefly making eye contact with Prince Kusa before the latter turned away. Interesting.
“Maybe long ago, but I haven’t competed in some time,” the heir to the Souljin throne said.
“Always so modest, brother,” Zasso chimed in. “Truly, his ability is akin to a Saiyan Elite,” Zasso chimed in, praising Prince Kusa’s skill. The comment perked up Goku’s face.
“That’s what you are ‘Geta!” Goku added as he stuffed his face once more.
“And you, Kakarot,” Vegeta continued with annoyance, “ever the example of third-class civility.”
The statement left Goku unbothered but intrigued the middle prince.
“I’m a bit rusty with Saiyan history, Zasso,” Toge interrupted. “Tell me, as our resident historian, where did the third-class echelon fall exactly?”
His eyes collided once more with the hybrid down the table. Goten looked momentarily at Bulla, who didn’t seem to like the direction the conversation was going. Gohan also seemed to pick up on the undercurrent of the discussion and gave a similar look. In an unlikely surprise, an ally emerged as the Crown Prince frowned.
“Don’t be boorish,” Kusa chastised his middle brother.
“What? Just trying to brush up on our history as Zasso so elegantly likes to state,” Toge said.
“Toge,” King Engei didn’t have to say much, but said so warningly.
“All I’m saying is that it’s lovely we can all come together and celebrate our mutual heritage, regardless of rank.”
The table continued to buzz with conversation as Trunks cleared his throat as he stood up, putting his napkin down on the table. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered under his breath to Goten, who joined him without protest. The heir caught Marron’s attention at the end of the table and she too, decided to tag along.
Bulla watched them leave, feeling tempted to follow, but her attention was requested elsewhere.
“Princess Bulla,” Toge said refilling her chalice, “you’ll have to let me know what color you decide to wear to the ball. I should like to match you.”
She decided she didn’t like his attention as much without an audience. Especially, when she preferred that attention from someone else entirely. Still, she donned a fake smile and continued to enjoy the Souljin spirits in front of her, resigned to make the most out of her first evening on the planet.
-=-=-=-
After retreating from the dining hall, the trio found themselves on a flat part of the palace roof, admiring the bevy of stars in the atmosphere above. Enraptured by the vastness, they also regarded the two very distinctive full moons. All three looked up in wonder.
“It’s so beautiful,” Marron murmured quietly. Trunks caught a momentarily glance of her before resuming his stargazing in silence.
“Sure is,” Goten said solely focused on the night sky.
“I can’t believe this place,” their human friend continued. “It’s like something straight out of a fairytale, what with majestic castles and handsome princes.”
“Alright,” Trunks interjected, “they’re not that handsome.”
Marron smiled wickedly. “Jealous much?”
“No,” the heir insisted, “I just don’t get the appeal.”
“I mean…they’re objectively good looking,” Goten said somewhat absentmindedly. Both Marron and Trunks shot him a strange look that the younger hybrid returned. “What? I’m saying objectively.”
“At least Goten can be impartial,” Marron chuckled. “What’s your excuse, Prez?”
“Maybe I just don’t appreciate sleazy men sniffing out my sister,” Trunks muttered, tossing a loose, small piece of shale he’d been playing with. The comment caused Goten to chuckle; mouth closed.
“Sleazy?!” Marron exclaimed. “You just met the guy.”
“So? I can’t have an opinion? Guy’s an asshole.”
“Those are two different things, Trunks.”
“Fine, he’s both then.”
“Trunks…”
“First impressions, Mare—they sometimes are telling.”
She snorted. “My first impression of you was that you were a bratty little punk,” Marron answered with a laugh. “Lucky for you, that changed.”
“Did it though?” Goten teased. Marron playfully shoved him while Trunks threw another small piece of slate his friend’s way. They all resumed their laughter before the heir grew a little more serious.
“I just haven’t seen Bulla like that in a long time,” Trunks acknowledged. The other two eyed him intently. “She was flirtier as a kid, but I thought she outgrew it, maybe not.”
Marron giggled slightly. “You’re worried for nothing. Besides, that’s not her type anyway.”
“Oh?” Goten turned his head, trying to avoid sounding overly interested. “Bulla seemed to insist she didn’t have a type.”
“Any man that breathes is her type,” Trunks answered incorrectly.
“You don’t know your sister at all,” Marron chided, “she has standards, dummy.”
“Something Trunks wouldn’t know about—hey! Would you stop throwing shit at me?”
“Will you stop being an annoying shit?”
“Boys,” Marron scolded, putting her arms up in between them. The blonde gave a squeeze to Trunks’ shoulder, reassuring him of her honesty. “Don’t worry about Bulla, Trunks—she’s a smart girl,” Marron insisted.
“Hmm,” he turned his head at the contact, “maybe.”
Down below in the water gardens, there was a commotion that Goten’s ears picked up. Several voices laughing in the distance. It sounded a bit too familiar for his liking and had a strong feeling he knew at least to whom one of the voices belonged. A stone in his gut hoped the prince wasn’t with her alone.
“What was that?” Trunks asked.
Goten frowned, worried his suspicions were correct. “I’ll take a look,” he offered. He turned to his friends as he stood up. “Trunks, why don’t you take Marron to her room? I’ll catch you both in the morning.”
Before his friend could question it, Goten took off towards the lower area where the voices were. Marron and Trunks both looked at each other with confusion.
…
Uub attempting to rein in two unconfined Saiyan women was nearly an impossible task.
“Guys, please!” he begged. Pan was already swimming in the large fountain and Bulla was close to diving in herself until Goten floated on over to see what the commotion was all about.
“Uub, what the hell?” Goten asked, grabbing hold of Bulla before she could join her best friend in the water.
The tan-skinned human looked exasperated. “I don’t know what’s going,” he said with pained frustration. “One minute we were chatting with Toge and Zasso after everyone else left, and then suddenly, these two took off towards the gardens so I followed them to make sure they were okay. Clearly not!”
Pan was giggling in the fountain, fully clothed, catching the attention of some passerby’s much to Goten’s humiliation. “Pan!” he shouted to no avail.
“Goten, let me go—” Bulla insisted.
“Like I’m about to let you take a dip in an all-white outfit,” Goten responded back, “your dad will kill me.”
She lightly beat his chest. “Quit being so mean!” the princess combated. Her breath was hot with the stench of alcohol and Goten immediately knew what was wrong. He turned to Uub, a look of indignation apparent.
“They’re drunk?!”
Uub opened his mouth to answer, but Bulla interjected.
“I’m not drunk,” the princess protested, pushing on Goten. The older Saiyan scowled at Uub in frustration.
“Dude, that wine was way too strong. Who thought it would be a good idea to have them drink that stuff?”
“I swear Marron and I kept tabs on Pan.”
“Then why is my niece swan diving in a fountain?!”
“Uncle Goten! The water feels greaaaaaaat!”
“I don’t know,” Uub whined with both hands on either side of his head. “Sensei Goku is going to kill me! Gohan will kill me! I don’t want to die on a foreign planet, Goten!!”
The older man sighed when he saw he was being tough with Uub, who was only trying to help.
“Look, I’ll take Bulla back to her room—you somehow wrangle up my niece before Gohan realizes his precious Pan is bombed out of her mind. Okay?!”
Uub nodded in agreement. “One I think I can handle,” he said. Goten raised an eyebrow, questioning the validity of that statement. Uub gulped in response. “I think.”
“Gotennnnn!”
The heiress whined in his arms as Goten shook his head. This was not on his agenda for the evening. “You’re lucky I told your brother to leave already,” he said in a harsh tone, “c’mon, it’s time for bed.”
Amidst her protests, Goten hoisted Bulla in her arms as she squirmed. He shot Uub a look that screamed “good luck” while Pan called out for him to join her in the water.
The student of Goku knew he had his work cut out for him still.
…
“B-Chan stop!”
After getting the princess inside the main foyer, Bulla continued to fidget until Goten had enough and finally put her down. She slinked to the ground as the older man groaned.
“You’re a pain in my ass sometimes, you know?” Goten muttered, trying to get her on her feet. The heiress clung to him like a baby chimpanzee to its mother.
“Well, maybe don’t suck?” her soused self said a bit more juvenilely than normal.
“Such a brat,” he retorted, but only part of him meant it.
“If I’m a brat, you’re a jerk.”
“Maybe I am,” Goten rationalized, situating her more stable than earlier. He felt his insides tugging at him to be gentler in his tone, still lamenting their previous interaction. “You never get sloshed like this, B…” the dark-haired hybrid pointed out.
She giggled. “I underestimated how strong it was,” the bluette playfully said in his ear. Another light laugh bubbled out. “Pan and I had a lot.”
“Too much,” the older demi-Saiyan frowned. Bulla pouted when she saw his face.
“Don’t be like that,” she cooed. “I’ve caught you drunk many times.”
A slight pang of disappointment reverberated in his chest, recalling how the last time he was plastered, Bulla had so sweetly taken care of him in his misery. The elder hybrid sighed. “You’re way smarter than me, B-Chan,” Goten murmured. “It’s not like you to act dumb. That’s my job.”
As she cleaved around him, her nose turned inward, pondering his last statement. “Sometimes I feel dumb around you, though,” the younger halfling admitted.
The declaration made Goten slow his pace and look down at her. A disbelieving chortle managed to work its way out of his throat. “Why would you ever feel dumb, B?” he asked, incredulous.
“Because,” she stated simply, “you confuse me.”
His heart sank. He knew she wasn’t wrong, and that made it all the harder to hear her say those words. “I’m sorry,” Goten murmured quietly. It was hard to look at her when he replied, but in her eyes, he caught a glimpse of appreciation for his apology. They walked in silence for a bit before Bulla spoke up again.
“I like your neck,” she stated candidly, her hot breath tickling him enough to evoke a jolt. The older man shot her a strange look, to which she smiled, eyes glossed over. “It’s nice and thick,” Bulla uttered in a beguiling manner.
Flustered, Goten evaded her gaze after she voiced those thoughts. He didn’t like the direction where this was heading. Hoping a lack of response would deter her, Goten remained quiet, but the princess wasn’t done having her fun.
“Your whole body is nice and thick, actually,” she continued, her fingers caressing his broad chest. The lump in his throat, his discomfort manifested, was itching to scream. He spoke up finally when he felt her hand venture towards his abdomen.
“C’mon Bulla, don’t be like that,” the other hybrid pleaded.
“Like what? I can’t tell you I’m enjoying what I’m seeing?”
“You’re drunk.”
“You’re hot.”
“Bulla…”
“I saw you getting jealous at dinner,” she mentioned. “Don’t deny it,” Bulla sang. Flinching for a moment, Goten resumed his steady appearance.
“You knew what you were doing,” he said firmly. “Didn’t think that was your style.”
“Maybe not,” the heiress retorted. Her grip squeezed just a bit more as he picked up the pace. “Still seemed to do its job, though.”
“Who you kiss is none of my business,” Goten answered with a hint of remorse.
“Huh?” she questioned. Though she knew her processing skills were impaired due to the alcohol, the princess blinked with curiosity. “I haven’t kissed him.”
“Him. Others. Not my business.”
It then dawned on Bulla; he had no idea she hadn’t been kiss by anyone else since him. What she thought was obvious, Goten clearly thought differently.
“You think I’ve been kissing other guys?” Bulla couldn’t help but laugh. Her hands came up to his face, fingers tracing over his jawline. “There’s only one guy I’ve kissed, Goten…only one time…” the heiress whispered, prompting him to widen his stare.
She bit her lip, reminiscing about how tender his mouth had felt against hers. Then, how close she had been to tasting him again weeks earlier, but had been inconveniently interrupted. “Almost twice,” the azure-eyed beauty continued, her lithe digits trailing upwards from jaw to the bottom of his maw. “Stupid Trunks,” she laughed bitterly, “ruins everything.”
“B—”
“He’s not around now though…”
On her tippy toes, she attempted to lean in to reunite their mouths, but Goten swung his face away. Despite the burning sensation building in his lower abdomen, now was hardly the time to indulge. He did his best to play it off exasperated.
“B-Chan…I’m not kidding around,” Goten said with annoyance. He almost regretted his somewhat scathing pitch when he saw her crestfallen countenance. She loosened the forceful grip she had on him, but remained in his arms. They were at a standstill, in both the literal and figurative sense. Her eyes dimmed as they focused on the gorgeous marble floor of the palace. Bulla sighed; her tone softened as she responded.
“When are you gonna see me, Ten?”
Caught by surprise, the older man turned towards the woman, glued to the pretty mouth she used to utter that question. His lips parted to speak, but he remained silent and stunned. Bulla grabbed his chin, the scent of Souljin wine peppery on her breath. “When are you gonna see me?” the bluette repeated in a quiet tone.
Even drunk she was a marvel. He stared, unable to tear his ebony eyes away from her resplendence. All he could see was her.
“I do see you.”
The princess seemed almost surprised as the other halfling divulged this, all while holding her closer. “I’ve told you before,” Goten murmured, thinking of their conversation in the fields near Mount Paozu. “It’s impossible not to see you, Bulla.”
Bulla chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly. “Yet, you resist,” she articulated with accuracy. His dusky gape shifted to the side.
“Can you blame me?” Goten pondered. “I’ve known you since the day you were born, Bulla. I’ve seen you go from an adorable girl to a beautiful woman and it’s…” he trailed off, trying to collect his thoughts. It’s been all I can think about, the hybrid wanted to say.
“What?” Bulla inquired.
The older demi-Saiyan’s breath hitched. “It’s overwhelming,” Goten confessed. Against his better judgment, he couldn’t help but let his hands clasp lower around her waist.
“And it isn’t for me?”
“B—”
“You said yourself you like me,” Bulla commented, wondering if he had meant what he told her on the Capsule Corp. terrace. “You know that I’ve liked you too.”
His silence only prompted her to continue. “People that like each other kiss each other,” she said suggestively. Her thumb reached the corner of Goten’s mouth before he grabbed her hand, holding it in place. Those dark eyes that she adored bore into her, intent on keeping the lady’s attention.
“If I kiss someone, I want it to mean something,” he answered deliberately, releasing her hand.
She hung around his neck, that stray palm now pressed on his chest. Inhaling that masculine scent Bulla loved so much, lazuline eyes stared into his searching for an answer. “Don’t I mean something, Goten?” the princess wondered. His heartbeat quickened at both her touch and question. Feeling a tad lightheaded, Goten gazed into her pools of cerulean, looking for the right answer.
“Not just something,” the half-Saiyan said softly, “you mean…”
The hybrid paused. What did she mean? More than something, he knew. More than just a brief dalliance, more than a tickled fancy. No, he was well aware that she held a much more precious place in his mind. In his heart.
“More,” Goten finally voiced.
Her same eyes, heavy-laden from the Souljin spirits, widened at his words. She would have blushed if not already crimsoned from the wine. “Why won’t you kiss me then?” she asked, sounding the most sober she had been that last hour.
Nimble fingers stretched over his cheeks, holding him firm in place. Even if he wanted to avert her gaze, Bulla’s tiny hands possessed immense strength; there was no way Goten could avoid her now. “B-Chan,” he whispered.
“Why?” she repeated in a tender timbre, her eyelashes fluttering with curiosity.
For a moment, Goten underwent an out-of-body experience—as if he could see both him and Bulla in front of each other, a bit too intimate to be just friendly. The foreign alcohol bolstered her courage as her grip tightened. Bulla’s bantam figure felt dainty in his arms. A flush of pink tickled his cheeks, her own visage already colored. Under the right circumstances, he would have pressed his lips to hers without protest. Though, he wondered sadly, even if she weren’t drunk…would there ever be the right circumstances?
It became clear at dinner how out of his element he was. While Vegeta called him and his father “Third-Class” in that taciturn way he always did, tonight was the first time he truly felt it. How could he compare with an entire royal family—with a legitimate prince? He was hardly that. Goten, in his own way, knew he was leagues underneath her.
Didn’t a princess like her deserve the best?
“Because,” Goten began, “I should know better.”
Bulla saw his countenance shift, cementing that he actually believed what he said. She shivered as a breeze from the open-air columns in the long palace hallway blew through.
“You’re allowed to want me, you know,” the younger halfling stated with a firmness in her voice. A shy expression betrayed her supposed confidence, yet the Saiyan Princess refused to waver.
“I’m not though,” Goten responded, a bit despondent. Frowning, the heiress pressed him further.
“Why?”
“You being drunk is hardly the time to have this conversation, B.”
She lowered her face in defeat. “We both know that conversation won’t happen,” Bulla countered, dejected. Goten remained silent in response, giving her nonverbal confirmation she was right. Her head started to pound as she rubbed her temples. “My head hurts,” she added quietly.
The weight of her thumping headache made Bulla press against his shoulder, her body slumping into him. Shaking his head, Goten scooped her up for the remainder of the journey. Reminiscent of the previous evening, he felt her warmth permeate his entire being.
“Do you remember which room is yours?” the elder hybrid questioned, approaching the royal wing of the palace.
Without looking up at all, she murmured into his neck. “Last one on the right.”
Again, luck seemed to be on Goten’s side as no one appeared to be in the common area of the hallway as he meandered his way through to Bulla’s chambers. Somehow, he managed to open the intricate door without dropping her, a feat that impressed even him. The room itself was fit for a princess with a large canopy bed in the center and an impressive private bathroom attached. Even her balcony dwarfed the one attached to his room—the lap of luxury he knew she was accustomed to. This prompted a small, tickled noise to emit behind closed lips. The world really did revolve around Bulla Briefs.
She groaned as he set her down, propping her up with the vast array of pillows on her bed. “Here,” Goten offered, gently laying her against the headboard.
A weak smile graced the princess’ face. Getting inebriated was not something she enjoyed nor did often; seeing Trunks and Goten smashed plenty of times growing up was enough of a deterrent. It embarrassed her that someone of her intellect couldn’t tell the effect the foreign spirits had on her. How silly and juvenile she must’ve seemed to him.
“I must sound ridiculous,” Bulla lamented, slightly closing her eyes.
Another entertained noise reverberated inside of Goten. “You sound better than I usually do, I’ll give you that.”
They both chuckled weakly. Bulla’s sapphire orbs reopened to watch her hands twiddle with nerves. “Would it be too much to ask you to stay again?” she questioned, not daring to look him in the eye.
An eyebrow perked. “Thought you were mad at me,” he said pointedly.
“Not that mad,” Bulla answered with the faintest smile, which he returned. “I do get it, Goten,” the bluette continued, “why it’s hard for you.”
She happened to have a surprising amount of control in her tone. Finally gazing upwards, Bulla saw her dark-haired companion’s kind expression, which appeared as a combination of wistful and worried. “For what it’s worth,” Goten resumed, “I don’t mean to confuse you.”
His quiet confession gave her pause. “Would…staying confuse you more?”
She was giving him an inch. As tempting as it was to rejoin the princess for the evening, he knew he couldn’t get her hopes up again though. Especially in this state. “You should get some sleep,” Goten resolved, answering her previous question without directly saying so.
Goten leaned over her to grab some more pillows to prop her up further, wanting to make sure she didn’t get sick lying down. He eased her forward to add the additional pillows and brought her back up straight. Upon doing so, Goten became level with her face and Bulla closed her eyes to breathe in his scent. Her nose perked as the familiar notes hit her nose.
“You smell good,” she whispered, causing him to laugh.
“Sleep, Bulla…”
“Goten,” she clung for his shirt as he had attempted to pull away. Sighing, Goten worried about what Bulla could say in her current condition but faced her despite this.
“Yeah, B-Chan?” he asked quietly.
Her fingers loosened their pull, smoothing out the fabric she had creased. Heat rushed to her face as she focused on the task at hand, not daring to look him in the eye. “You’re a good man,” Bulla admitted freely. While she wanted nothing more than to curl up with Goten again, even in her woozy state, the princess admired his respectful nature. It was why Bulla was drawn to him in the first place. She knew he’d never take advantage of her.
Grateful for her candor, Goten returned a small smile. “Yeah?” he spoke in whisper.
Eyeing his mouth, Bulla nodded. “A really good one,” she said, transfixed.
She observed his Adam’s apple bobbing in his neck, wanting to respond. Still inches away from her face, Goten watched her with a rapacious gaze, trying his hardest to not give in to the little coaxing voice in his head. Lidded eyes looked the heiress up and down, landing square in the middle. How easy it would have been to bring his lips to hers. To touch her. Caress her. Want her.
Stop that.
He wasn’t a good man, he thought; he was just one with a good poker face. Still, she inspired him to try to be who she thought he was.
“You make me want to be a better one,” the older halfling stated, almost surprised the words tumbled out freely.
The heiress grazed her nose near his, prompting Goten to inhale sharply, caught unawares by the closeness. “I do that?” Bulla asked innocently enough.
He could feel a wanton growl wanting to release from his throat, but Goten swallowed it whole. If he didn’t slink away now, he’d be sucked into her gravity once again. That Saiyan Princess juju working its magic like it always had. Save for this time, the elder halfling doubted his ability to resist much longer. His resolve was slipping. Goten was bound to trip up one of these days.
Just not that evening.
With every ounce of tenacity he could muster, Goten lifted his head to brush his lips against her temple, settling for just a sliver of skin. “Sleep,” he commanded for a final time, offering one last smile before pulling away.
Bulla bowed her head, accepting defeat in her original mission, yet her heart felt much lighter than it had earlier that evening. With a look of longing, she regarded his figure moseying towards the doorway. The princess unclenched as she released her breath.
“Goodnight Goten,” she whispered.
Goten paused as her honeyed voice flew across the room. He worried if he turned around, he’d run up to Bulla and never leave. Yet, that little coaxing voice hellbent on enticing him, he pushed to the side once more.
“Goodnight, B-Chan.”
Without daring to look back, he managed to make his way out the door, sighing in relief as he closed it behind him. He felt a stirring inside, making it difficult to think straight, but somehow the halfling pulled through. Goten felt compelled to place his ear towards her room, but felt silly as soon as he started to lean in.
What is wrong with me?
“Lost, Son Goten?”
The half-Saiyan’s attention was brought to the approaching figure of Prince Toge, whose arm draped around one of Princess Hinoki’s handmaidens. She was giggling as the Souljin royal whispered something in her ear, never taking his focus off the hybrid while doing so. He was sporting a leer that had an air of amusement about it, if not outright smug. Goten did his best to remain nonchalant.
“Happy to provide directions back to your quarters, should you need them,” Toge offered.
“No need,” Goten began. “I was just escorting Bulla back to her room,” the halfling responded, looking from the prince to the handmaiden and then the prince once more. It was quite obvious their plans. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt your evening,” he added pointedly.
Toge’s fingers trailed down towards the hips of the handmaiden, pressing in firmly enough to elicit a contented mewl on her part.
“How kind of you,” Toge continued, “I’m sure the princess appreciated your assistance. She seemed to enjoy the wine at dinner, I noticed.”
A glare started to form before Goten adjusted his face. “It was nothing.”
“Nonsense,” the prince replied as he planted a kiss on the woman’s neck. “Gallant of you to ensure her safe passage,” Toge remarked, “a first rate, third-class escort.”
The demi-Saiyan was quiet before responding, ignoring the comment altogether. “Well, you have to be careful,” Goten began cautiously. “Never know what’s just around the corner.”
A flash of interest shone from the prince. Challenge met.
“Indeed. Important to be ever vigilant,” Prince Toge answered. “Don’t worry, Son Goten, I’ll be sure to keep a good eye on my neighbor during her stay here.”
Simply nodding, Goten passed by without saying anything further. The last thing he wished to discuss with the prince was her. He was close to the end of the hall when he heard the other man speak again.
“Son Goten,” Prince Toge called out to his fading figure, “I do hope you and your family enjoy your time here on Souljin.”
Tempted to turn to see if there was a sincerity to the other man’s countenance, Goten slowed his pace. The royal’s tone was hard to distinguish if genuine, but the Earthling decided to take the Souljin Prince at his word. “I’m sure we will, Prince Toge,” Goten returned flatly with forced politeness.
Toge nodded, as he gave a quick squeeze to the handmaiden’s side. Signaling her to proceed into his room, she scurried along as the middle prince lingered in the doorway. He turned for a final time, golden eyes glinting, and with a practiced command, released a telling gleam.
“You’ll have to share your secret one of these days,” the prince said in a puzzling tone.
Goten met his gaze, onyx and amber colliding. His skin sprouted goosebumps, feeling the intensity of the air around him. Yet, Goten never wavered in his eye contact. “Regarding what?” he asked with caution.
He observed the prince gripping the doorway, a near smirk planted on his lips. “On gaining the rapt attention you’ve received from the Saiyan Princess,” Toge returned in an intense voice. A spark flickered in his gilded eyes. “I should like to be on the receiving end of it some time, myself.”
Goten exhibited expert restraint, only a faint twitch near his forehead indicated any sort of uneasiness. He doubted Toge could see it in this dim hallway, but even so, Goten was quick to control his reaction. Discerning the faint female voice calling for Prince Toge from the bedchamber, he stood about-face as he headed towards the exit.
“Lucky for you, Prince Toge,” he whispered deliberately, “it sounds like you’ll already be on the receiving end of some attention this evening.”
It was hard to tell the prince’s expression to the response from behind, but Goten did hear a muffled intonation murmur back. “Never a bad thing to desire more, Son Goten.”
The hybrid spun back immediately to answer but witnessed that Prince Toge was no longer in the doorway, already making his way into his room. Standing in place, Goten wasn’t sure exactly what was overcoming him in that moment. Jealousy? Protectiveness?
A brief glance towards Bulla’s chamber at the end of the hall, and while perhaps Goten did not have a name for it yet, part of him knew.
It was more.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 8 and we’re out of the gate!
We have finally made it to Souljin, and things are about to get interesting. We will certainly be learning more about these mysterious hosts and some of our characters may prefer some to others, hehe.
Chapter 9: The gang gets acquainted with Souljin society and customs, the princes get acquainted with the next gen men. Preparations for the grand ball begin!
It’s not unnoticed the number of comments and views that have trickled in with this latest chapter. This little love letter to my OTP has really given me a lot to look forward to. Please know, from the bottom of my heart, it means more than I can express anyone who takes the time to skim, review, share, etc.
Only here because of your support! <3
-SonChan
Chapter 10: Chapter 9: Blue is the Warmest Color
Summary:
Chapter 9: The gang gets acquainted with Souljin society and customs, the princes get acquainted with the next gen men. Preparations for the grand ball begin!
Notes:
Disclaimers: Per usual, I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the title of Planet Souljin and the character Kail. Other characters and Souljin lore/details are all my creation.
Author’s Note: Thank you all for your patience! I have had some busy weeks so forgive me for the wait. Hopefully, this unintentional mega-chapter makes up for it. As always, I’m incredibly thankful for all the support. Your kindness and attention to this story is not unnoticed, nor is it unappreciated. I’m excited for much to come in the next few chapters, and we have so many more to go! Hope you are all just as eager as I am to dive in. Special shout out to Lusta and Cam for all their help.
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Hell of a Life, Neon Moon
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 9: Blue is the Warmest Color
The gentle humming of the freshwater streams trickled in from the outside water gardens to Bulla’s bedroom. Her ears twitched with faint recognition, the peaceful sound waking her from sleep to a state of awakening. It took her a moment to recognize where she was; the canopy above her head foreign yet recognizable. Soon enough, the understanding that she was not in her room on Earth became clearer and clearer. Lapis eyes widened further when the memory of the previous night came rushing back to her.
I’m on Souljin, Bulla recollected.
Rising slowly, the Saiyan Princess realized she was still in her summery, white dress from the prior evening. She felt a slight stiffness in her back, having spent most of her slumber propped up against a multitude of pillows. Rotating her shoulders, Bulla attempted to stretch out the tightness, yawning while doing so. A soft sigh evaporated into the balmy air before her, the bluette’s cheeks pinkened with embarrassment remembering how Goten had carried her once again to her room.
This time however, she had been far too tipsy for her liking.
Recalling the seemingly endless refills of the potent Souljin wine, Bulla groaned into her palm. Toge had certainly made sure she hadn’t gone thirsty. In fact, the prince was almost insistent that she drink to her heart’s content. Whether due to nerves or feeling a bit agitated from her conflict with Goten, Bulla indulged herself for the first time. She vaguely remembered the other handsome man vying for her affection but, try as he might, her mind always kept coming back to the one person she truly wanted.
Truthfully, the only person she ever wanted.
She emitted a sigh, chastising herself for getting too far gone. Pan’s suggestion of exploring the water gardens after dinner sounded exhilarating at first, and with Uub there what could go wrong? As soon as they arrived however, it was as if the nearly half-dozen cups seemed to hit her all at once.
And of course, of all the people she didn’t need seeing her in that state (save her parents) he was the one to do so.
Bulla slinked her legs over the side of the bed, her shorter stature not quite reaching the ground. Taking a moment to steady herself, Bulla lowered her feet to the floor and slowly glided over to her bathroom to freshen up. While her bath the evening before was delightful, the heiress was eager to try the giant walk-in shower.
Letting her dress fall off her shoulders, it slipped to the ground with a delicate grace. As the steam enveloped the shower stall, Bulla stepped inside, letting rainshower head cleanse the last remnants of the evening from her body.
Including his touch.
That thought pained the princess; the warmth of Goten’s sturdy frame holding her close. The bluette flushed, recollecting the moment her hand had started to dip over his abs and wondered, had the older hybrid not stopped her, if she would have dared to venture further down.
Much like she was doing on her own body right at that moment.
This is starting to become a habit, she chided herself. In the last few weeks, Bulla had certainly familiarized herself with her southernmost place. Though it was far from daily, it was more than the heiress partook in the past. Still, she supposed there were worse things a woman could do…
Already late for the start of breakfast, Bulla took her time.
…
Exiting the bedchamber, Bulla was able to detect movement out of the corner or her eye. A woman that she recognized as one of Princess Hinoki’s handmaidens, with disheveled hair, had remnants of the previous day’s makeup smeared under her green eyes. When the handmaiden saw Bulla, she gave a polite bow and scurried down the hall just as fast. Though she was still getting her bearings, Bulla realized the room the woman exited was Prince Toge’s.
The half-Saiyan couldn’t hide the amusement on her face. Toge seemed earnest on the surface, but Bulla had been quick to notice the attention he had given that same handmaiden the night before. He’d squeeze her side, whisper sweet nothings in her ear, making her laugh with little effort. Bulla hadn’t been offended, since her whole goal had been to get a rise out of Goten instead. If anything, this was confirmation that in spite of the prince’s good looks and charm, he was far from the type of man she’d ever be seriously interested in.
The type of man Goten was.
Her cheeks reddened, reminiscing once more about the same demi-Saiyan who had tucked her in so sweetly. She tried to shake the image from her head, but struggled to do so until something else interrupted her thoughts.
“Princess Bulla,” a newly familiar voice rang out. “I see I am not the only one who has a late start this morning.”
Turning to face the direction of the comment, Bulla widened her eyes in surprise to see the king himself leaving his room, already being escorted by two, burly soldiers on either side. With a nod, the men took a step back so that Bulla could approach undisturbed. She curtseyed awkwardly, still feeling a little woozy from the earlier night. “King Engei,” the Saiyan Princess remarked, “I didn’t expect to run into you at this hour.”
The older man took her hands to kiss them. “My dear, when you get to be my age, sleeping in is as delightful as well…oh my, you’re a young lady I shouldn’t say that…er, as delightful as a good book,” King Engei said, correcting himself before saying something too revealing.
Bulla chuckled at the monarch’s slight breach in diplomacy. “I’m not that young,” she said teasingly, attempting to ease the king’s mind.
King Engei continued to clasp her fingers in a tighter grip. “Anyone with eyes can see that, Princess,” he began again, “but I’m an old man. Everyone is young to me.”
He released her hands and offered his arm. “Since we are both late risers this morning, allow me to escort you to the dining hall for breakfast,” Engei stated.
With little coercion needed, Bulla happily accepted. “I’d be honored,” she said, her arm enclosed around his. As they left the royal quarters, they headed towards the main hall. King Engei was politely chatting away and Bulla enjoyed the company and conversation.
“You must have been tired after your travels,” the Souljin monarch remarked as they glided together. Bulla flushed, not wanting to reveal her eventful evening but also felt odd lying to a king.
“Truth be told, it was a mix of traveling and underestimating the strength of Souljin wine.”
“Ah,” the king showcased a wry grin. “I remember my first sampling of it many eons ago. It catches up with you rather quickly!”
Bulla politely chuckled in response. “It certainly did,” she admitted.
The prior evening, Bulla had failed to notice a massive painting of the royal family on the wall. King Engei’s stark white hair was jet black, a sign of a much earlier time. Judging by the ages depicted, Zasso and Toge couldn’t have been much older than toddlers. It was easy to spot the young Kusa; he still wore the same serious face even as a teenager. In the middle was a woman that Bulla didn’t recognize, but given her chocolate brown curls and golden eyes, she easily deduced this was the late Souljin Queen. Before she could ask about her, King Engei spoke up.
“My Juhi,” he murmured fondly, revealing her name. “Next Harvest will be the twenty-fifth year of her passing,” the elder king said. Inhaling deeply, Engei released an affectionate sigh. “I miss her smile more than anything.”
The love in his voice was evident and the heiress found herself deeply moved. Bulla tightened her grip in a gesture of sympathy. “I’m sorry for your loss, King Engei,” she stated with a saddened tone. “She is absolutely beautiful,” the Saiyan Princess complimented.
King Engei returned the squeeze. “Princess, you are far too kind,” he thanked. Gazing up once again at the portrait before them, he continued, “I went half my life before I met her and she changed it all in an instant.”
Bulla’s heart went out to him; the queen seemed so young when she passed. Engei’s fond expression when speaking of his wife tore at the heiress. The thought of losing someone she loved a foreign concept, but one that the younger woman could still sympathize with nonetheless.
“Though the time together was short, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
He cleared his throat to change the subject as they continued along. “Ah, but don’t mind this reminiscent old man. Tell me, how are you enjoying Souljin so far?”
“It’s lovely,” Bulla answered in earnest. “I haven’t seen that much of it yet, but everything I’ve encountered has been unbelievable.”
“Well, I do hope you make yourself at home here in the palace,” Engei continued, “it’s been over a half-century since we’ve hosted and my staff and myself are eager to be exemplary hosts.”
Bulla smiled and squeezed his hand once more. “You have been that and then some, Your Grace,” she said softly. The princess paused as a question crossed her mind. “Zasso mentioned Souljin remained hidden to avoid conflict with the Frieza Force,” Bulla added, “sixty years seems so long. What changed?”
“Your father asked me that last night,” King Engei smiled softly. “Though you look like your mother, you remind me much of him,” the elder man added.
Bulla chuckled to herself. “I get that a lot.”
“I mean that as a compliment, I hope you know. When your father and I chatted privately, I got a glimpse of his intelligence. A bit brisk, like his own father was, but that’s a Saiyan’s pride for you!” Engei laughed deep from his belly.
“King Engei,” Bulla responded, “if my dad is ever too brisk, please don’t hold it against him.”
“Oh, I could never,” the Souljin royal added. “Even if I was unfamiliar with Saiyan temperaments, Prince Vegeta has every right to be skeptical.”
Bulla chucked. “He’s stubborn, but his willpower is as strong as his pride,” she answered admiringly.
Her chest warmed as she spoke. “My dad would never admit it, but I think he’s sometimes lonely and misses his family,” Bulla said. The bluette softened as she thought about her father. “We’re also his family of course,” she started again, “but it’s a little harder for us to relate to what we don’t know.”
“I’m glad you and your brother did not have to endure the cruelty of Frieza or King Cold,” Engei spoke freely, “we were lucky enough our technology kept them at arm’s length for the most part, since we were far from the fighters your father and his people were. But, after Planet Vegeta rebelled, I knew they’d set their sights on Souljin.”
Bulla hung onto his every word. “It’s understandable,” she acknowledged. “You did what you had to.”
“I did,” King Engei nodded, “but it was difficult cutting off the entire galaxy. The experiences I had in my youth, my sons would never know in isolation. Of course, it was peaceful for a time, but eventually it became apparent that off-planet resources would soon be a necessity.”
King Engei wrapped around her arm more tightly. “To finally answer your question, I’ll tell you what I told him,” the royal continued. “I could say it was a deep love for my people and my own family that drove us to stay isolated. But truthfully, a lot of fear.”
“Do you regret it?” the bluette wondered aloud.
The king stalled, taking her question in. “Juhi wanted us to rejoin the rest of civilization much sooner than we did, and we almost removed the shield when the boys were young,” he began to explain. “When she passed however, it seemed all that haunted my thoughts were worst case scenarios of losing my sons as well.”
“In your defense, that sounds more like love than fear, King Engei.”
“Love requires a bit of fear, child,” he added with poise, “at least in my experience.”
His words resonated deeply with the demi-Saiyan, an unfamiliar sensation bubbling in her gut as a certain person’s smile crossed her mind.
“Ah, here we are…”
The king’s rich timbre brought Bulla out of her thoughts. He once more squeezed her hands in appreciation. “Thank you for accompanying an old man this morning,” King Engei said with affection.
“An honor. Truly.”
Bulla smiled as she said those words, observing the pronounced wrinkles on Engei’s face. He had been so needlessly kind to her and the rest of the Earthlings, she hoped that their presence brought some semblance of joy to the older man.
As the doors opened for the two of them, Bulla’s eyes enlarged at the impressive buffet along the walls. Her Saiyan stomach growled, and she hoped the king didn’t notice. Looking at all the food, Bulla wanted nothing more than to dig in but was interrupted by her mother on her way out.
“Bulla,” Bulma began in an authoritative tone, “you had me worried there for a second. It’s after ten in the morning!”
“That’s my fault, Lady Bulma,” King Engei interjected. “Your lovely daughter accompanied me, and these slow, old bones aren’t what they used to be.”
“You’re sweet, King Engei, but I know my daughter…”
Chuckling, the king shrugged at Bulla who returned a smile. “Gave it my best shot,” he winked before heading off with his two guards in tow. Bulla laughed as well, until her gaze returned back to her mother tapping her foot.
“Bulla…”
“Sorry, Mom. Just tired from all the traveling I guess,” she said, omitting the part of her wild evening and somewhat wild morning.
The older Briefs woman was undeterred. “The guys have been getting fitted for their armor all morning and we’ll be up soon,” Bulma said, “don’t take too long eating breakfast!”
Bulla nodded in understanding, spying Marron and Pan out the corner of her eye. “I’ll be quick, I promise,” the princess assured.
As her mother left, Marron waved Bulla over to join them, a fancy spread of food sprawled out. Pan looked like she was about to fall asleep directly into her bowl of oatmeal.
“Hey guys,” she said sitting down. Pan could only emit a small noise of acknowledgement, still clearly perturbed from the previous night’s events.
“Where’s your uncle?” Bulla asked Pan nonchalantly, looking around the room for his familiar face. She grabbed what looked to be a mango and, while a little different than what she was used to, savored its sweetness.
The younger quarterling had deep circles under her eyes as she pressed her palm to her forehead. “How the hell should I know?” Pan muttered, unenthused. Bulla couldn’t help but laugh as she helped herself to even more breakfast.
“The guys are all at their fittings,” Marron mentioned in between bites. Her cheery humming and enjoyment of the spread before her caught Bulla’s eye.
“You’re in a good mood,” she said, cocking a brow. Marron gulped the piece of pastry in her throat, eyes broadening.
“How so?”
“Just extra…cheerful.”
“Someone is excited about her date this morning,” Pan said, with more animation than before.
“Date!? When was this?” Bulla asked with a small smirk.
Marron blushed. “It wasn’t a date,” she insisted.
“What happened then?”
“Well,” she started off shyly, “I woke up early and decided to take a walk. Zasso had the same idea, evidently enough, so we spent some time talking in the gardens. He just asked if I was excited for the ball and to save him a dance.”
Bulla swooned. “How romantic!” she exclaimed.
“Oh stop!” Marron insisted. “He’s just being nice…”
“Who the hell wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a walk with someone just to be nice?” Pan teased, her palm still propping her heavy head up.
“Probably not either of you two, sleepyheads,” Marron chuckled.
“Hey!”
“She’s got a point, Pan,” Bulla giggled, sampling more food. Her focus returned to Marron. “So, Marron,” she teased, “when’s the wedding?”
“Hey!”
Before Bulla could continue, Uub swung on over, grabbing another available fruit before sitting down to join them. “Room for one more, I hope,” he said happily.
“Done already?” Marron asked.
“Yeah, it wasn’t too bad–honestly, the longest parts were Sensei Goku being terrified of the pins they used and then Mr. Piccolo not fitting anything,” Uub chuckled. Bulla couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Goten’s father, the strongest man in the world, brought down by his greatest enemy: a pointy needle. Likewise, the thought that anyone could get Piccolo of all people to adjust his outfit tickled her to no end.
She shifted her head to see if anyone else was coming. “Where are the rest of the guys?” Bulla questioned, still trying to seem disinterested.
“General Taikan promised us a tour of the barracks in a little bit,” Uub continued, “they’re just freshening up. I just wanted to check in on Pa–I mean, both of you ladies to see how you were.”
He briefly locked eyes with Pan and the two immediately blushed and looked away. Bulla noted the tension and knew she’d have to grill Pan later. But first, she owed the man an apology.
“Uub, about last night,” she said, lowering her voice. “Sorry about, well you know…” the princess could hardly contain her embarrassment at her behavior, but Uub assured her with a wave of the hand.
“It was fine,” he replied, though it was unclear if he was simply trying to placate her. The man had been at his breaking point dealing with two, unruly Saiyan hybrids. “No one got hurt.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Marron asked as all three resumed eating, without so much as a word: their one of many little secrets intact. She rolled her eyes when she realized she wasn’t getting an answer. “Fine, I should head over anyhow,” the blonde rationalized as she stood to her feet.
“I’ll come with,” Bulla said as she scarfed down the last remnants of food. Standing up to join Marron, the bluette turned to their other female companion. “Pan, you coming?” she wondered.
“I’ll…be there in a bit,” the raven-haired quarterling murmured. She caught one more glance at Uub, who again turned his head to eat his fruit inconspicuously. Both Marron and Bulla looked at each other knowingly.
“Sure,” Bulla started to say, “we can leave you two alone.”
“Yeah,” Marron added, “wouldn’t want to intrude…”
“I swear to Kami the second I feel better, your asses are mine,” Pan hissed behind the hand she used to prevent Uub from hearing, but Goku’s pupil missed nothing.
“Whatever you say, Pan,” Bulla sang, and she and Marron giggled on their way out.
Pan’s tired eyes looked over to Uub, who was still looking at her with reddened cheeks. “Don’t tell them I stuck my tongue down your throat last night,” she whispered.
“Wasn’t going to…”
-=-=-=-
Marron and Bulla continued chuckling as they headed to where Princess Hinoki was conducting the fittings. Along the way, Bulla couldn’t help but spy a familiar head of ebony through the open-air columns as they passed. The butterflies in her stomach multiplied by the second. She halted in place as Marron continued, until the latter realized her companion stopped.
“Bulla?” she wondered. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Bulla said quietly, gaze stuck on the man outside. Marron turned to see what Bulla was looking at and smiled.
“And here you were teasing me this morning,” Marron nudged her friend. Bulla gently pushed her back.
“I just need a couple minutes. Tell my mom and Hinoki I’m on my way.”
“Of course,” Marron winked, before finishing her journey alone.
The bluette sighed, grateful to have a friend that was understanding of her situation. Her attention then returned to the sole man overlooking the beauty that was Souljin. Slightly bent over the rail, Bulla felt a familiar heat start to build inside of her, mortified that her earlier indulgence didn’t take care of that urge entirely.
Kami, was he handsome.
“There you are,” Bulla remarked as she joined Goten on the veranda. He smiled as he recognized the voice from behind. The demi-Saiyan turned to meet her, those coal-basted eyes warm and inviting.
“There she is,” Goten said in a tone that had some mild teasing to it. Bulla rolled her eyes as she descended down the stairs.
“Very funny,” she replied unenthused, “you have your fitting already?”
Goten chuckled. “Yeah, it’s gonna be strange wearing that regalia in public,” he answered, “feels a little out of place.”
“Well, we are a little out of place here,” Bulla returned, leaning over the edge of the rail, the water gardens immaculately sprawled before them. “Certainly not on Earth anymore,” she said pensively, looking out at the view. The unusual birds that flew overhead were varied in colors and shapes. She could hear the roar of the mountain waterfall in the distance, sounding even more thunderous than it did when she awoke.
Her companion leaned back against the edge, quietly taking note of her. The slight flicker of adventure in her irises was both endearing and innocent. It was plain to see that Bulla was immersed in this new setting, and Goten felt his chest warm at the sight. As she turned her focus to him instead, Goten averted her eyeline so as to not have her thinking he was staring. Even if he had been.
“The ball should be fun,” Bulla changed the subject.
Goten put his hands behind his head. “Can’t say I have ever been to one before,” he divulged, “hopefully, I don’t stick out like a sore thumb.”
Bulla beamed. “Sure you have,” she responded softly. His confused expression prompted her to laugh and explain further. “When you’d play make-believe with me as a kid,” the Saiyan Princess added, “we’d go to balls all the time.”
A few memories hit him instantly of Bulla in a pretty princess costume as a child, dancing on his feet as they would laugh. Sometimes Trunks would be there sulking in the corner, waiting for his friend to be available to spar with, but Princess Bulla always came first. It simultaneously warmed his heart, but also caused a pang of sadness. How hard it was to reconcile that she was the same little girl, and yet, she really wasn’t. Not anymore. He thought he was starting to separate her, but moments like that brought him back to reality.
“Goten?”
The silence grew too long, and Goten blinked away his reverie. “Let’s hope those princess lessons were enough then,” he stated, indicating none of the inner turmoil he was feeling.
“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Bulla kidded. Another wave of quiet passed over them and she breathed in the fresh Souljin air for courage. “Goten?” she asked, grabbing his attention.
His ears wiggled at the sound of her voice. “Yeah, B?”
“Thanks for not being weird about it,” she added plainly.
“About what?”
“Last night…”
His smile was as playful as his voice. “I’ve no idea what you mean, B-Chan,” Goten teased.
“Goten,” Bulla said more seriously, but her own smile betrayed her tone. He was such a goof.
“Don’t think twice about it,” Goten insisted, “you’ve been there for me when I’ve been drunk.”
“It’s not just that,” Bulla continued. Her focus shifted down over the railing. “I meant…well, the other things I said…”
“Consider it forgotten.”
She met his eyes with a fierceness evocative of her father, but a softness all her mother. Tucking a loose hair behind her ear, her cheeks aflame, Bulla sheepishly uttered, “I don’t want you to forget, Goten.”
Goten returned her gaze with just as intense a look. Those baby blues always working overtime to pierce through the veneer of politeness they built up. He sighed. “What do you want me to say, Bulla?” the older hybrid asked with care.
She looked down momentarily, and then up just as fast. Unsure at first, but she found her voice. “That you see me,” Bulla repeated from the night prior. Goten raised a brow.
“I told you I do–”
“No,” she said softly. “Really see me.”
Goten sighed. He had a feeling the conversation would come up again, but didn’t anticipate it so soon. “Bulla–”
So much he wanted to say. So much they needed to discuss. And yet…
Silence.
The lack of words after he said her name was telling enough for the younger hybrid. “We don’t have to talk about this now,” the bluette conceded. Casting her head downwards, she began to braid the ends of her hair distractedly. “I just…” the normally bold princess grew timid and trailed off. She sighed. “Enjoy the tour of the barracks,” Bulla ended, changing the subject yet again as she turned around.
“Bulla–”
Beginning to head up the stairs, Goten thought he wouldn’t have a chance to elaborate, but the princess paused halfway up. She knew she wanted to say her own piece before she lost her nerve. Wisps of her turquoise hair danced around Bulla’s delicate face as a calm breeze blew past them. Goten couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
“If you do see me,” she began again quietly, “what exactly do you see?”
She felt his intense onyx orbs engulf the entirety of her from afar. The somewhat hazy gleam was both familiar and otherworldly. There wasn’t an easy way to express the depths of which she had penetrated his being, but Goten tried his hardest to do so.
“Blue,” he uttered, almost absentminded.
The befuddled expression on Bulla’s face begged for clarity. “Blue?” she pondered aloud.
Goten swallowed hard. The lump in his throat far too heavy to leave lodged there. He knew it didn’t make sense to her, it hardly made sense to him. Yet, it was the only thing that felt right to say.
“All I see is blue,” he murmured.
A whistling wind gusted past the two once more. Though his words did little to explain his initial answer, Bulla was entranced by the reverent manner in which he spoke. Their eyes not vacillating from one another for anything.
Perhaps a little fear was required, Bulla mused to herself.
She sighed, not wanting to part from the man who managed to both confound and enthrall her. But she knew she couldn’t linger, and she didn’t know how much false courage she had left in her.
Without a word, the heiress hightailed up the stairs with her heartbeat matching the pace of her feet, leaving Goten feeling both simultaneously a little foolish, and a little lighter than he did before.
-=-=-=-
“Oh Princess…red truly is your color!”
Bulla snapped out of the daydream she was having from her earlier encounter with Goten, as Princess Hinoki and her attendants surrounded her, fawning over the magnificent gown she was currently being fitted in. A deep cherry dress that perfectly matched the Saiyan Royal Family’s traditional colors. While Bulla couldn’t deny the exquisite detailing of the ballgown, what used to be her favorite color was starting to lose its luster.
“You and Lady Bulma will look exceptionally alike,” Hinoki remarked, glancing over at Bulma in a similarly colored piece. Bulla’s mother was getting outfitted at the same time and Marron had just left.
At the mention of her name, Bulma turned her attention to Hinoki and Bulla, her eyes instantly lighting up at seeing her daughter’s attire. “Oh honey!” Bulma cooed, “don’t you look gorgeous?”
Bulla smiled politely, knowing the compliments were sincere, but she did have to tease. “I look like you,” she said with a light chuckle.
Bulma winked. “I did say gorgeous, didn’t I?” the scientist teased, prompting the other women to join her in laughter.
The younger Briefs woman repositioned once again to the mirror to graze her hands over the pretty fabric. Red was royalty. Red was the color that most associated her with. And yet, the shade was feeling more and more foreign to her–and she knew the reason why.
Bulla did her best to keep the smile on her face, but the edges of it seemed to droop without her meaning to. Hinoki seemed to be the only one to notice.
“Everything alright, Princess?”
Tipping her head towards her gracious host, Bulla attempted to fake another beam. “Everything is fine, I guess I’m just still a little tired from traveling.”
“You okay?” Bulma wondered with concern as the attendants helped her out of her own gown. Bulla nodded, her heart still swarming with a bevy of emotions she tried to keep at bay.
“Yeah, I’m fine Mom,” Bulla insisted. “Nothing major,” the heiress added. Once more, she faced the Princess-Consort. “This should be just fine, Princess Hinoki. Thank you,” Bulla said as she started getting out of her dress and back into her day clothes. With another polite bow, the Saiyan Princess left the room.
Hinoki glanced at an equally perplexed Bulma before handing a sleeping Kail to one of her attendants. Following Bulla out the door, Princess Hinoki spoke up. “Princess, a word?”
Bulla focused on the Princess-Consort walking up to her, a calm smile on her face. “Are you sure you’re okay? It seemed like you weren’t too thrilled with your gown,” Hinoki commented.
Bowing, Bulla feared she offended her kind host. “Oh, Hinoki I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that I—I mean I’m extremely grateful for your help and I—” she started to ramble before interrupted.
“Bulla!” the older woman grabbed both her hands and let out a melodic chuckle. “My dear,” she started to say, “I just wanted to make sure if something wasn’t to your liking, we address it early on.”
A sigh of relief, Bulla looked relieved. “It’s a dress fit for a princess,” she answered politely.
Hinoki was about to press further until she saw a familiar figure approaching in the distance. “Son Pan! Just in time for your fitting.”
Still feeling the pounding headache from her night of misfortune, Pan rubbed her temples. “Is it possible to wear the armor the guys have? It’s too early to shimmy myself in some dress that’s too tight.”
“Pan, don’t be lame,” Bulla poked her friend’s ribs. Clearly, she pressed a little further than intended because a familiar shade of green graced the other hybrid’s face.
“Please don’t,” she said, bringing her hand to her mouth.
Princess Hinoki chuckled at the younger women’s friendship. “Female Saiyan Regalia is more for a coronation or jubilee celebration, but fret not, I’ll make sure you won’t have to, how you say…shimmy into anything.”
Her warm smile and affable nature were both too nice for Pan to protest. “If I must,” she said, but with a little more cheer than before. Hinoki gestured for Pan to enter the room, leaving her and Bulla alone once more.
“Before you go, Princess,” Hinoki said as she turned to head back, “just know that you can come to me for anything.”
Bulla’s eyes widened. “Hinoki I–”
“I mean it truly.”
There was a sincerity in the older woman’s orbs that brought a sense of peace to the Saiyan Princess. It was the sort of calm she needed in that moment.
With a quiet grace, the auburn-haired beauty bowed her head before returning to the fitting, leaving Bulla to reflect on the other woman’s offer.
-=-=-=-
“Impressive, General Taikan!”
Now that it was the women’s turn for their fittings, Goku and the rest of the male Z Fighters were getting a tour of the barracks. Nestled within the castle walls, there were plenty of stations ranging from sword combat to martial arts to long range weaponry. Throughout the vicinity, various soldiers were going through their routines, most stopping to salute the general as he passed. The respect he carried amongst his troops was evident.
“Thank you, Son Goku, but I can hardly take all the credit,” General Taikan responded. “I’ve been lucky enough to have some incredible men in my regiments.”
“Always so modest,” the Souljin monarch chuckled. “Taikan has outdone himself with his exemplary leadership,” King Engei praised as he gazed across the yard. The general bowed in thanks.
“You honor me, Your Grace,” he said, humbled.
Patting the much taller man’s back, the king let out a jolly laugh. “Nearly sixty years of being confidants and friends, and just as formal as ever, Taikan.”
General Taikan was about to reply when a well-dressed officer approached him with a device. With his dark hair and eyes, he easily looked more traditionally Saiyan than a good portion of Souljins. Though young in the face, he had an impressive number of badges on his uniform, indicating a somewhat high rank. Saluting his superior officer, he finally spoke.
“Sir,” the man began, “a missive from Banna confirming the escort they requested.”
General Taikan took the tablet to sign and promptly handed it back. “Thank you, Lieutenant Nashi,” he said, revealing the man’s name. He gestured to the Z Fighters. “Friends, this is my second-in-command, Lieutenant Nashi. Should you need anything, and I am unavailable, he’ll be happy to assist.”
Lieutenant Nashi courteously bowed, flashing a genuine grin. “Thank you, a pleasure,” he continued, polite yet brisk. “I wish I could join your tour of the barracks but duty calls.”
He saluted the general once again as well as an additional bow towards the king. Once the lieutenant left, Vegeta tilted his head in interest. “Escort?” he questioned brusquely.
“In our attempt to re-establish alliances, we’re offering various military or technological services to potential allies,” Taikan explained.
“So, lap dogs?” the Saiyan Prince wondered in a derisive tone.
“No, we exchange goods and services depending on the need,” Engei clarified, “Banna has this delightful black cherry sauce that’s well worth any escort services!”
Engei turned towards Vegeta, who offered no laughter in the slightest. Clearing his throat, the king remained undaunted and changed the subject. “Prince Vegeta, I thought it would be nice if our sons and the younger men got to know each other better,” the Souljin sovereign continued, “Kusa and his brothers have offered to take them out tomorrow evening for a night on the town.”
Trunks made a wordless grimace, only to be given a stern look from his father. “I’m sure my son and the others will be looking forward to it,” Vegeta spoke for him.
A loud clanging of metal distracted the men with its noise. They observed Zasso practicing his swordsmanship skills with a few soldiers at one end of the yard. The tall prince was in his element; graceful like an acrobat, but with sharp precision with each strike.
“Ah, Zasso’s certainly made some strides,” King Engei remarked as they continued to peruse the barracks. General Taikan tipped his head in acknowledgement.
“If Kusa’s not careful, his little brother may show him up one of these days,” he retorted.
“I, for one, would certainly like to see that matchup,” Engei chuckled. His deep green eyes scanned the barracks, in search of something specific. “Tell me Taikan, did our Commander decide to show up today?” the king asked a bit more quietly.
Taikan nodded, gesturing to the other end of the yard where Toge was making quick work of several soldiers attempting to overpower him. Though the guardsmen seemed well-equipped for combat, the sheer force Toge showcased outmaneuvered anyone who dared to approach. With his dark hair and tail, from afar, he looked like a full-blooded Saiyan.
Goten’s eyes narrowed and tore his gaze away in annoyance.
“Does your son not show up to perform his job?” Vegeta questioned pointedly. He seemed disinterested in the display of brute strength the middle Souljin Prince was demonstrating, no doubt nothing of interest to someone of his power level. Glancing at Taikan, King Engei gave a knowing look before the royal responded.
“Oh, he does,” Engei remarked, “sometimes a little too well. He’s put a few men in the infirmary.”
“Wouldn’t that be your role then to train them to withstand that sort of power?” Vegeta directed the next question to Taikan. Engei cleared his throat.
“Prince Vegeta,” he continued, “I’m told your lovely wife has created some version of a gravity chamber for you back on Earth, hasn’t she?”
“She has,” Vegeta responded, still less than superfluous with his words.
King Engei’s eyes lit up. “What a marvel, that one!” the Souljin sovereign said with a bright smile. “I’m not sure if our version matches up, but we do have several rooms with various training environments you and your companions are able to use at your leisure.”
Gesturing to a number of doors along the wall, the king barely had time to blink before he was interrupted.
“Alright! Gohan, Piccolo…let’s check it out!” Goku said cheerily to his eldest son and friend, already taking off to Souljin’s training chambers. Offering a respectful bow to make up for his father’s lack of awareness, Gohan smiled sheepishly before following him. Piccolo rolled his eyes as he joined the other two.
Stunned by the quickness of what transpired, King Engei couldn’t help but chuckle. “Quite the spirited one, your father!” he teased Goten who rubbed the back of his head.
“That’s…one way to describe him, Your Highness…” Goten stated in between nervous laughter.
“I prefer the word ‘clown’ myself,” Vegeta commented, already taking off in the other direction. King Engei and General Taikan glanced at once another, until they started to catch up with the Saiyan Prince, leaving Trunks, Goten, and Uub to their own devices.
Uub looked at the other two men and shrugged. “I guess we can head back?” he posed, unsure.
Goten was about to answer, but Trunks already started to take off towards the part of the barracks where Zasso was training. “Hold on, this I gotta see,” he said, intent on his mission.
“Trunks, wait!” his friend yelled, but it was no use.
As they raced to catch up with their friend, Prince Zasso just finished an impressive round of training, amidst the cheers of various companions and attendants. His golden eyes grew wider when he noticed the Earthlings approaching.
“Hello, my friends!” he waved in excitement. “How is your tour going?”
“Fine, fine,” Trunks said a little quickly, his eyes darting to the rack of weapons, wondering if Zasso knew them all or just swordplay.
“It’s been great, thanks for asking,” Goten responded to be respectful in Trunks’ absence.
“I’m delighted,” Zasso returned, “you’re more than welcome to make use of anything you see here. Let me know if I can be of any assistance.”
“Actually,” Trunks started to say in a somewhat devious tone, “there is something.”
Both Goten and Uub gawked at their friend with a strange glance. “What are you doing?” Uub wondered with a whisper.
The Souljin Prince was all ears. “How might I be of service?” the brunette offered.
“Your footwork was impressive,” Trunks commented, “but I’m wanting to see your skills in an actual match.”
“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”
“You and me, Zasso, let’s have a friendly duel,” Trunks posed in front of everyone. Goten and Uub immediately looked at their friend with surprise and concern. Even Zasso seemed to be startled by the request.
One of Zasso’s companions shouted, “Prince Trunks is challenging Prince Zasso!”
Excited murmurs filled the yard. Clearly, the offer of a duel was titillating enough to cause some interest. “Shall we?” Trunks continued, unfettered by the commotion.
“Surely, Prince Trunks, you don’t mean right now?” the royal replied. “I’m certain we will have time throughout your stay to have an official match,” Zasso commented.
“No time like the present!”
“Dude,” Goten muttered under his breath, “what is with you?”
“Not now Goten,” Trunks hissed back. He approached Zasso with all the confidence of his father. “What do you say?”
Tickled by the notion, Prince Zasso nodded. “Very well, Prince Trunks, we will spar at your behest,” the Souljin Ambassador conceded.
“Great!” Trunks exclaimed. “Let me just go and grab my sword from my room and I—”
“We use training swords in the barracks,” Zasso stated. With a snap of his fingers, one of the attendants provided Trunks with a weapon. The prince’s lips curled into a smile. “All the same size, I’m afraid,” he remarked quietly, but loud enough to get a snort and chuckle out of Goten and Uub.
“Just as well,” Trunks said, attempting to appear unfazed. Before he knew it though, he felt himself getting pulled. Dragging Trunks to the corner, Goten positioned his arms to either side of the junior Saiyan Prince.
“Okay Trunks,” Goten said in a firmer tone. “You’ve had your fun, you’ve made your point…how about you stop while you’re ahead and just leave it alone?”
Trunks glared at his friend. “What? You don’t think I can do it?”
“Bud, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but absolutely not.”
There was no hesitation in Goten’s response. Another scoff left the prince’s lips. “I can take him,” he insisted with bravado.
“Trunks,” Uub interjected, “don’t you want to practice a little bit more? Zasso seems to know what he’s doing with a sword…”
Trunks recoiled in disbelief. “Geeze, can’t the two of you chill? I gotta do this,” the demi-Saiyan asserted.
“But why Trunks? Why now? Why him?”
“Because!”
Opening his mouth to elaborate further, it hit Trunks at that moment he couldn’t say anything about the situation with Marron. He may have been able to get away with some half-hearted monologue about Saiyans and their pride, but Goten would have seen through that immediately. The lavender-haired man exhaled.
“Look, I’m not asking you guys to pick up a sword and join me,” he added tersely, “but the least you could do is be supportive.”
Both Uub and Goten looked at each other, knowing at this point there was nothing they could do to dissuade their companion. They backed off quietly, letting Trunks emulate his father all too well.
Returning to the dueling area, a small crowd started to form. Zasso had been twirling his own training sword while awaiting Trunks’ return. There was an ease to his movements and for a moment, Trunks found himself second guessing his proposal.
“Shall we duel until three strikes?” Prince Zasso questioned.
“Sure, if that’s how you normally handle these things,” Trunks said nonchalantly.
Zasso held a small laugh in his throat. “You are certainly an interesting man, Prince Trunks. I look forward to this.”
The two got into position on either side of the designated area, as another attendant started to relay the dueling agreement, which Trunks promptly tuned out, only focusing on his target.
“And begin!”
Without warning, Zasso lunged at Trunks, the move propelling him back. The meeting of blades resonated through the air, a symphony of steel that echoed with a metal hum. Trunks, from the very beginning, found himself ensnared in a dance of precision and finesse as Zasso's sword struck with effortless grace. He was already on the defensive, trying to block the other royal’s blows.
While beads of perspiration dripped down his forehead already, Trunks observed Zasso hardly breaking a sweat. The Souljin Prince seemed to be right in his element.
Strike!
It was a stark realization for the inexperienced hybrid, who hadn't engaged in the art of serious swordplay for years. The weight of his underestimation bore down on him. Despite his desperate attempt to overcompensate, the halfling fell short. Zasso's every move appeared a choreographed ballet, leaving the less graceful halfling a step behind.
Trunks tried in vain to dodge Zasso’s slick movements, but the prince was too quick.
Strike!
The growing disparity between their skill levels became painfully apparent, prompting Zasso, ever the diplomat, to raise a questioning eyebrow.
"Trunks, perhaps we should call it a draw,” he urged, despite maintaining an impressive lead. “There's no shame in acknowledging one's limits."
Trunks, however, fueled by his stubborn pride, vehemently dismissed the suggestion. "No way,” he said through gritted teeth, struggling to hold his sword against Zasso’s. “We're not stopping until one of us wins."
Immediately following his protests, Trunks pushed back on Zasso’s sword and once again began his assault on the Souljin Prince. Frustration etched its lines across Trunks' determined face as he escalated his attacks, the clanging of blades singing in the spacious barracks.
Goten’s fist pressed against his mouth, nervous to see the display before him. As was Uub whose worry manifested itself as a furrowed brow and widened gape. Though not as animated as his companion, Goten was just as concerned.
Carelessly thinking his offensive strategy was taking root, Trunks grew a bit sloppy in execution; his swipes unsteady and balance uneven.
Zasso, having deliberately held back, decided it was time to unveil the full extent of his prowess. He transformed the sparring into a mesmerizing spectacle of swordplay, his blade spinning with the elegance of a seasoned dancer. The intensity overwhelmed Trunks, who thought he had the upper hand moments before.
In a swift and almost poetic movement, Zasso effortlessly disarmed Trunks, the metallic clatter of the fallen sword resonating like a defeated note. The silence amongst the crowd only intensified the noise of the clanging metal.
Trunks observed the sword and then Zasso, who began to lower his, assuming the match was over. Stubbornly, the half-Saiyan made an attempt for his grounded weapon.
Within seconds of Zasso’s hilt striking directly in the stomach, Trunks felt the wind knocked out of him. He didn’t have time to even attempt to catch his breath before the same weapon swept under his leg and propelled him flat on his back. Gasping from the loss of air and the sheer shock, Trunks lay panting while his companions stood still.
A hushed silence settled over the spectators, the air thick with a mix of astonishment and anticipation. Goten and Uub, among the onlookers, exchanged wide-eyed glances as they absorbed the turn of events, realizing that the friendly sparring match had evolved into a humiliating defeat for Trunks. The only sound coming from the grounded Saiyan Prince as he heaved heavily.
The quiet atmosphere didn’t last long, as Zasso’s comrades and attendants started cheering for a job well done. Zasso gave a polite wave before returning his attention to the man on the ground. He offered his hand as a sign of goodwill.
“My apologies, Prince Trunks,” Zasso commented, bending over. “I should never have dueled so intensely. Are you hurt?”
Though his pride wanted to refuse the Souljin Prince’s hand, that same pride was already shot to hell. What was one more humiliation?
Trunks finally grasped the other man’s hand, still panting heavily as he rose to a sitting position. “I’m fine,” he said a little more sternly than intended. After catching up with his breathing, Trunks let out a soft sigh. “You did nothing wrong.”
“Still,” Zasso continued, “I’m sorry. This was to be a friendly exhibition and I’ve embarrassed myself by treating it otherwise. Forgive me?”
With a nod, Trunks squeezed and let go of the royal’s hand. Satisfied his apology was accepted, Zasso bowed his head in appreciation and turned to join the other Souljins, still cheering on their prince as he remained silent. The small smile on his countenance suggested he didn’t mind the congratulations as much as he previously said. As the Souljins’ laughter and celebration died down with their fading forms, Goten and Uub slowly approached the defeated half-Saiyan.
“Well that was…something.”
His best friend was at a loss for words. What do you say to someone who so failed so spectacularly even after you warned them not to?
“Could’ve been worse,” Trunks grunted, sitting upwards finally but still breathing laboriously. “At least my dad didn’t see me fuck that up.”
Goten hesitated, looking down to the side. Trunks raised an eyebrow before gazing up at the direction Goten had momentarily glanced at previously. Atop the castle walls, while touring the barracks with General Taikan and King Engei, it appeared that Vegeta and his two Souljin escorts had stopped to watch the exhibition match between Trunks and Zasso.
Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, his father, his teacher–staring down at the sorry display. The consistently stoic demeanor remained intact, scowl unchanged on his face.
Trunks looked down in shame. He would almost prefer his father’s ire to his disappointment. When the hybrid turned back up towards the wall, Trunks observed his father already leaving, with the general and King Engei following not too far behind.
Uub attempted to lift Trunks up from off the ground, but the exhibition loser waved off his friend’s hand. The hybrid remained where he sat, ashamed and annoyed, but more importantly, aware that someone else was better than him at something. Multiple things. Lots of things.
Including, captivating the one person he wanted more than anything.
Resigned, the prince fell flat on his back again, closing his eyes to attempt to block out the utter indignity.
…
Hours after everyone had vacated the barracks, including Goten and Uub who left Trunks to wallow in his misery, the lavender-haired man was still there; sweaty and exhausted as he practiced his swordplay with no one but himself. Between the air and a practice dummy, the younger Saiyan Prince wasn’t getting much resistance. Still, he didn’t want to exactly deal with anyone else right then after his humiliating defeat.
Perhaps that’s why he was exceptionally annoyed when he heard someone calling out to him.
“That performance earlier was rather laughable.”
Mid-swipe, Trunks caught up with his heaving breaths to turn and face the direction of the voice. He was almost surprised to see the Crown Prince there observing him. Leaning against the barrack wall, his arms were folded and his expression unreadable as ever. Trunks couldn’t contain the scoff lodged in his throat.
“Interesting remark coming from you, Prince Kusa,” Trunks commented, once more cutting his training sword in the air. “Do you even laugh?”
The faintest chuckle passed Kusa’s lips. “Only when something is amusing enough,” he said. “Like your swordsmanship skills. How is it that a prince such as yourself does not have the proper training for that weapon?”
Disregarding the insult, Trunks turned again. “We don’t exactly need weapons,” he insisted, taking another swipe. Lavender strands stuck to his forehead in the heat as the demi-Saiyan made an attempt to brush them away. “If I wanted to, I could take you and your brothers all at once with just my fists,” the halfling added darkly.
Another small chortle escaped Prince Kusa’s mouth. “Though I find your Saiyan savagery a bit primeval, don’t forget that we too still have some natural abilities there. Toge especially,” Kusa noted. Trunks snorted at the notion Toge would have any chance against him or one of the other Saiyan hybrids. The Crown Prince cleared his throat. “Still, I find it interesting that since you are seemingly adept in more brutish fighting styles, why you would ever want to challenge Zasso of all people to a sword fight.”
“I—”
Trunks almost replied, but scowled and went back to hacking his sword at the dummy.
“None of your business.”
Undeterred by Trunks' terse response, Prince Kusa pushed himself off the barrack wall and approached with an almost leisurely gait. His piercing green orbs remained fixed on Trunks as he circled the younger Saiyan Prince, his presence an unwelcome intrusion into the solitary haven Trunks had sought.
"None of my business, you say?" Kusa mused, the corners of his lips lifting in a subtle smirk. "Yet, you make it everyone's business by publically challenging Zasso to a sword fight, a challenge you, as we all witnessed, weren't exactly prepared for."
Trunks' grip on his sword tightened, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Kusa continued, his tone measured but pointed, "It's intriguing, really. You Saiyans, renowned for your raw power and ferocity, opting for a weapon-based challenge. Why not a good old-fashioned brawl? Something more suited to your...talents?"
Trunks shot Kusa a glare over his shoulder, the Saiyan pride still stinging from the earlier defeat. "I’m not one to settle for an easy win," he muttered, more to himself than to Kusa. "Besides, I wanted to show that we Saiyans aren't just mindless brutes."
And maybe, just maybe, win the favor of an old friend.
The Crown Prince raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious now. "Ah, trying to dispel the stereotypes, are we?"
"Something like that," Trunks replied, his voice carrying a hint of vulnerability beneath the layers of bravado.
Kusa nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging the unspoken struggle. "It's an admirable goal, Trunks. But perhaps next time, choose your battles more wisely. Not every challenge needs to be a public declaration."
The words hung in the air, a subtle wisdom that Trunks begrudgingly absorbed. The Saiyan Prince, still caught between his wounded pride and the acknowledgment of a valuable lesson, resumed his hacking. Yet, Kusa remained.
“Prince Kusa,” Trunks said in between his swiping, “don’t you have better things to do than waste your time giving me a lesson?”
“Oh, believe me, there is plenty I should be doing instead,” he answered, flicking away a speck of dust. “Even so, Father is insistent I should try to bond with the lot of you. It wasn’t something I was looking forward to, truth be told, but after today’s display, you’ve seemed to pique my interest.”
Without turning his head, Trunks asked, “How so?”
“I think regular lessons would do you some good. Clearly, you are without a proper sword instructor. Perhaps I can provide some of my expertise?”
“You?”
“Why not me?” Prince Kusa remarked, scrunching his nose at Trunks’ surprised tone. “I’m the most qualified on Souljin to instruct you.”
“Sorry,” Trunks added, realizing he may have been interpreted as being rude. “You just don’t…strike me as the fighting type. With or without a sword.”
“I’ve won at least five tournaments and could outmaneuver General Taikan by the age of eight. Even Zasso, for all of his prowess, is still behind my skill level,” the Crown Prince commented. “I served some years in the army as well and while I don’t enjoy resorting to violence, I’m more than capable of handling a few good punches, Prince Trunks.”
The resolve in his tone left Trunks more convinced of the Crown Prince’s ability, but he didn’t want to be someone’s charity case.
“I’m not looking for anyone to pity me.”
“Good, because I don’t.”
Trunks frowned at the statement, even if he did appreciate the honesty.
“Though I think you to be a bit entitled, there is a sort of pride you possess I find compelling. Not quite in the aggressive manner your father exudes, but the similarities there are striking. No, you have a chip on your shoulder. I would very much like to see what you can do with the right tutelage.”
Off the bat, Trunks knew he did not like Prince Zasso. After their first night on Souljin, he especially did not like Prince Toge. Prince Kusa however, for all of his moody temperament and shortness, was different. Trunks usually had little patience for those with sour demeanors; he had enough of that from his father and didn’t need more. Yet, in spite of that, there was a sincerity in Kusa he felt Zasso lacked and Toge never possessed. As Trunks looked intently at his sword, knowing his limitations now after his woeful performance. He unearthed a quiet sigh of resignation; with little to lose, why not take advantage of the Crown Prince’s offer?
“You think you can get me to Zasso’s level by the time we leave?” Trunks asked earnestly. Kusa scoffed.
“I’m not a miracle worker,” he chided. Another beat of silence passed and Kusa took note of the seriousness of Trunks’ question. “However,” the Souljin Heir continued, “give me an hour or two of your training time each day, and I’ll have you ready to at least entertain a proper duel. What do you say?”
With one last look at the weapon in his hands, Trunks darted his gaze between it and the older man. He sheathed the sword as a sigh passed his lips. His hand extended towards Prince Kusa’s form. “When do we start?” the younger Saiyan Prince questioned.
Taking his hand, Kusa formed another rare smile. “Noon. Day after the ball, and all the other days to follow,” he confirmed. Trunks nodded in understanding as they unclasped from one another.
“Deal.”
-=-=-=-
The following evening…
The next day everyone seemed to be pulled in all different directions. King Engei took it upon himself to bring Vegeta along to some introductory council meetings to get acquainted with several Souljin officials. Piccolo and Goku went off in the desert to train and meditate. Both Gohan and Bulma were exposed to the lab and Dr. Niwa for the first time in person and spent most of the day there. The next gen males were awaiting their night with the princes, while the next gen women were getting the same tour the men had the day before.
This time however, Zasso and Toge were the ones to conduct it.
Goten couldn’t help but spy over the castle walls into the barracks, observing the women getting the grand tour from Toge and Zasso. Naturally, the Souljin Ambassador walked in tandem with Marron, and Pan followed suit. Goten’s eyes rolled when he observed Toge bringing up the rear with Bulla. From far away, it was hard to tell if Bulla was enjoying the conversation, but his gut sank just at the sight.
Toge towered over the tiny Bulla, and Goten groaned anytime he saw the Souljin Prince lean in towards her frame. While Goten figured any other man doing that would grate his nerves, something about Toge’s cockiness just irritated him.
It was just as well, though.
Goten, after his unexpected utterance the day before, had avoided her most of the morning, and hoped if they were to connect again, it would be in private. But Toge made certain to occupy most of her time. He didn’t have time to sulk for long as the group was starting to make their way up the stairs to the veranda. Goten attempted to act inconspicuous.
“Hope you ladies enjoyed the tour of the barracks,” Prince Zasso said with a bow to Marron and Pan. Both women seemed extra attentive to the handsome prince.
“It was exciting!” Marron praised, turning to Pan who just let out a shy and forced laugh in agreement.
The blonde perked up when the other man’s hand grabbed hers to kiss. “I hope I didn’t bore you enough to not want to dance with me tomorrow night,” Zasso said with charm.
Marron felt butterflies in her stomach. It had been a long time since someone was so unabashedly flirting with her, she was out of practice. Still, the blonde tried to fake some confidence in front of the Souljin Ambassador.
“Suppose you’ll have to find out at the ball,” she returned, shyly making her way past him with Pan looped around her arm giggling.
The two gave a half-hearted greeting to Goten as they scurried up the stairs, distracted. Prince Zasso unearthed a sheepish grin as he acknowledged the hybrid with a tip of his head. “See you soon,” the royal noted.
Bringing up the rear, Bulla and Toge slowly made their way up the first flight of stairs to the veranda level.
“Son Goten, I hope you are ready for an evening of exhilaration,” the middle Prince spoke with an assumptive aura.
Doing his best to hide his annoyance, but failing miserably, Goten nodded. “Thrilled,” he replied in a less than enthusiastic tone. This prompted a chortle out of Toge.
“I can tell,” he answered with a gleam. His attention returned to the bluette. “Princess,” Toge gave a quick tip of his head, to which Bulla politely returned. A small smirk appeared as he passed Goten on his way inside. “We’ll make sure to make this night memorable,” he promised, tapping briefly on the other man’s shoulder, which prompted him to wince. Laughing as he left, Toge didn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by Goten’s demeanor, yet Bulla took note.
“Don’t look so excited,” Bulla teased, crossing her arms.
Goten rolled his eyes. “Not you too,” he muttered.
“You’re as bad as my brother with Zasso,” Bulla joked. She leaned into the man when his face kept the same intensity as before. “Goten?” the heiress asked in a quieter tone.
The other halfling moved to face her, his features softening as his attention was brought to her. “I’d…watch yourself around him,” Goten noted, recalling the other man’s actions the night before last. Bulla’s eyes broadened at the statement.
“Wow,” she started chuckling, “you really were jealous, weren’t you?”
“It’s not that, B–”
“Oh yeah?”
The elder half-Saiyan’s face grew stern. “C’mon, Bulla,” he continued, “I’m not trying to police your life or anything but…”
Not wanting to hurt her, he paused to think of his phrasing. “I just got the sense he isn’t exactly…looking for anything serious,” Goten added.
“Goten, I know.”
He seemed surprised at the statement from the bluette, so much so, he shot her an inquisitive look. Bulla smiled gently. “Believe me, I know,” the heiress answered. “I saw the handmaiden he was flirting with the other evening practically run out of his room before breakfast.”
Though Goten was glad Bulla saw through the facade Toge perpetuated, his heart still went out to her. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he stated.
Her melodic laugh gave him wings. “I’m not,” Bulla insisted, “truth be told Goten, he’s not someone I ever really gave serious consideration to.”
This caught the man’s attention. “Really?” he wondered; a bit incredulous.
Bulla returned a genuine grin. “Really,” she began again, “I’m just being polite for my dad’s sake.”
Goten tried to avoid looking as relieved as he did. Suddenly, the awkwardness he felt all morning edge its way back in his chest. “I’m a little surprised,” he confessed. Bulla was taken with shyness she rarely saw from the other hybrid. Between these bits of jealousy and self-doubt Goten exhibited, Bulla felt a little braver than she had been.
“Goten,” she sang sweetly, “he may be a prince but he’s not y–”
“You ready to head out soon, Goten?”
The two turned their heads to Gohan approaching them. Goten darted his eyes back at Bulla, whose resigned smile indicated their conversation would need to continue another time. He returned his attention to the elder Son. “Yeah, just catching up with Bulla,” Goten tried to say casually.
Gohan quietly observed the other hybrids, briefly glancing back at his brother with an interested perk of his eyebrow. Subtle enough that Bulla didn’t catch the intent, but Goten knew the hundreds of words behind his older sibling’s glint.
Bulla tipped over with a genteel grin. “Hi Gohan,” she said cheerily, “how are you and my mom liking the lab?”
The scholar’s eyes lit up at the question, briefly distracted from his task. “It’s impeccable, Bulla,” Gohan noted. “Unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Dr. Niwa really is a brilliant scientist. We’re eager to dive headfirst into their research."
“I’m glad,” she returned, happy to see the man entertained.
“You’ll have to poke around there sometime,” Gohan remarked.
“It’s on my list to check out,” the princess responded. She met the eyes of the silent hybrid before taking her leave. “Well, I won’t keep you,” Bulla said, heading the other direction. “You guys have fun!”
As she waved goodbye, the bluette flashed her pretty smile. “See you around, Goten,” Bulla added kindly.
Her figure fading, Goten couldn’t tear his eyes away. “See you, B-Chan,” he answered quietly to himself. But it wasn’t quite to himself.
Gohan cleared his throat which prompted his brother to turn and cock an eyebrow. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Just say it,” Goten began.
“I’m not saying anything,” Gohan maintained.
“No, but you are,” Goten continued. “Without words, mind you, but you are pretty clear.”
Gohan folded his arms, ever the older brother with his taller form. “I already gave my thoughts on the matter,” he said stoically, “you keep insisting it’s nothing, so I believe you.”
His younger brother didn’t believe that for a second. Goten turned his gaze to the side. “Whatever you say, Gohan,” he relented, heading away from the veranda and leaving Gohan to sigh.
Though a tad annoyed walking away, Goten’s expression softened when he felt his brother put his arm around his shoulder, the two now synchronized in their steps.
“What do you think is more likely,” Gohan began in a different tone, “Trunks giving Zasso the side-eye all night, or Prince Kusa not smiling?”
The younger Son shook his head as he held in a chuckle, already forgetting the earlier exchange. “Both,” he answered straight away, Gohan’s grip tightening in amused agreement.
-=-=-=-
Though reservations had been warranted, the evening was far more pleasant than anticipated.
Feeling a bit like VIPs with the royal entourage, the next gen men were whisked away to an exclusive Souljin restaurant where even Toge seemed to be on his best behavior. Though, whether that was due to the public space or the ever watchful eye of his eldest brother, remained to be seen.
For now, the group trekked through the more modern sector of Souljin City, which was a stark difference from the classic architecture that dominated most of the town.
“Glad you gentlemen could get a taste of Souljin outside the palace walls,” Zasso said to the group. “This area is a particular point of pride with its rapid development.”
“Wow, looks pretty innovative,” Goten commented, not much of an expert on buildings, but appreciative of their beauty nonetheless.
“We’re slowly getting there,” Zasso commented, admiring the advances around him. “For too long, we’ve neglected to take advantage of our brilliant tech in our structures, favoring more of the classical pieces.”
“So eager to remove our history, brother,” Kusa observed, the notoriously quiet man offering a rare opinion. “And here I thought you were our resident historian...”
Zasso smiled widely. “Brother,” he returned fondly, “part of understanding history is to know when to leave it in the past.”
“As well as to know when it is deserving of preservation.”
Contrasting Kusa’s serious manner, Zasso emitted a fresh laugh. “Kusa has always been rather nostalgic regarding these matters,” the youngest Souljin Prince explained to the group.
“It’s a balance,” Gohan offered.
Growing tired of the conversation, the Crown Prince addressed his middle brother.
“Where are you dragging us to now, Toge?” Kusa commented unenthused. He was at his quota of social interaction for the night and didn’t trust his sibling for a minute.
“I wanted to make sure our guests could get a taste of the Souljin nightlife, dear brother,” Toge remarked back, his tone not doing him any favors with the eldest prince.
“No need to go out of your way for any of us,” Gohan insisted.
“Nonsense,” Zasso replied, “it’s our duty to show everything Souljin has to offer. You’ve sampled some of our cuisine, perused a couple of neighborhoods, and I trust Toge to provide some additional entertainment for you all.”
Trunks rolled his eyes and quietly leaned near Goten’s ear. “I swear if I have to make one more round of small talk I’m going to lose it,” he muttered.
“Just suck it up, dude. Least you could do after yesterday.”
“Hey,” Trunks snapped, “not cool.”
“The sooner we go along with it, the sooner we can call it a night.”
“And here we are…”
The attention turned once more to Toge, as the men approached an innocuous looking building, though the faint thumping of music could be heard from inside. Toge himself looked pleased, a hint of mischief in his golden orbs.
Eyeing the place up and down, the Crown Prince frowned.
Prince Kusa shot a warning glare at Toge, saying much without saying anything at all. He returned his focus to the group. “Son Gohan,” he said, turning to the science savvy man, “perhaps we will let the younger men continue their evening. I would very much be interested in learning more about your studies. Will you accompany me back to the palace so we may chat further?”
Gohan looked bewildered at the Crown Prince’s request, but Kusa’s stoic gaze didn’t waver. Giving a peek towards the establishment and then back at the Souljin royal, a hint of understanding crossed Gohan’s mind. “I see,” the eldest Son brother said with a nod. Adjusting his wedding ring, the jovial man grew serious.
He cleared his throat to face the others. “I’m going to head back with Kusa,” Gohan began, nodding at the Crown Prince. “You guys…enjoy yourself,” the scholar noted. Goten thought the tone was odd.
“Not coming in?” the younger Son asked his brother. Gohan gave another look at the building, briefly bringing his attention to Toge while doing so, before turning to face Goten.
“I think you’ll have more fun without me,” Gohan remarked pointedly. He gestured at Kusa and the two started to head in the direction of the palace with two guards in tow. The eldest prince, however, issued one last remark as he walked away.
“Don’t make a scene,” he warned his younger brothers, “and don’t make our guests uncomfortable this evening.”
Zasso seemed perplexed by the comment, but Toge chuckled to himself. “Fret not, Kusa,” the middle brother insisted, “they’re in good hands.”
Goten still was unaware of the unspoken tension. He wondered if the younger princes had a penchant for alcohol that sometimes got out of hand. His mind continued to speculate as their eldest brothers left the rest of the men on their own.
As soon as they entered the mysterious building, it became apparent what Kusa was alluding to earlier.
Scantily clad women paraded around as the establishment’s patrons partook in various acts of debauchery. The Souljin wine flowed freely, and the thunderous music made it difficult to hear. All three of the Earthling men felt incredibly out of place. Even Prince Zasso seemed to be annoyed with his brother’s choice of venue.
“Toge,” Zasso emitted a defeated sigh, “surely there were other places we could have gone this evening?”
Toge immediately dipped the nearest woman walking past him, a gorgeous brunette in hot pink lingerie, kissing her deeply with a possessive squeeze of her rear. As he pulled back, she smiled, a little dazed from the action, but joyful at the thought of pleasing her prince. Satisfied with his point, Toge turned to his sibling and said, “Other places perhaps, brother, but I figured a little fun was in order.”
Shaking his head, Zasso remained silent as he resigned himself to letting his middle sibling lead the way. He offered a glance towards the other men, wordlessly apologizing. Following the establishment’s staff, the group was led to what appeared to be a VIP section.
The plush private area was fit for a king, or at the very least his sons and guests. Several comfortable lounge chairs of multiple colors were gathered around a couple coffee tables, with Trunks, Uub and Zasso filling out the one side. Much to Goten’s chagrin, the other available chairs were a bit further away. Even more distressing, it meant having to sit by Toge.
With a snap, a manager sent over more women to visit their private section. With catlike speed, several of them surrounded Uub, voicing their admiration for the Earthling’s darker complexion and unique hairstyle. Though another man in his stead may have been delighted with the prospect of attention from multiple women, Uub looked like he was about to combust.
Trunks found the scene to be amusing, and wondered what Pan would have thought of the whole situation. He surmised that was what made Uub more uncomfortable than anything.
“Hey handsome,” a different dancer crooned in his ear.
Trunks blushed as he felt her well-manicured hand on top of his shoulder. “H-hi…” he trailed off, not sure what to say.
“This seat taken?” the dancer asked, gesturing to his lap. Suddenly, he felt his face flush as red as Uub’s was.
“Yes sorry, I have somebody already,” Trunks said it as a means to get her to leave, but Zasso discerned the comment.
The dancer giggled and ruffled Trunks’ pastel locks. “Lucky girl,” she sang as she meandered towards the growing group of women near Uub.
“You’re involved with someone?” Zasso asked curiously.
Immediately realizing his mistake, Trunks shook his head. “Just didn’t want to deal with that,” he added. The Souljin Ambassador released a wry grin.
“I get it. Toge certainly likes to frequent these sorts of places,” he resumed, “can’t say they’ve ever really appealed to me in the same way.”
Another dancer had attempted to approach the prince, but he put his hand up and dismissed her before she reached him. His sharp, gilded eyes focused on Trunks, a question itching its way out.
“Are you…certain you and Lady Marron do not have any formal arrangement? Courtship or otherwise?” Zasso questioned earnestly.
His eyes widened at the remark. “Why do you care if we do or not?” Trunks said unenthused. He tried so hard to appear unbothered, but even his best attempts were in vain.
Zasso offered a consolatory smile. “I mean no offense, Prince Trunks,” he responded, “merely trying to figure out why someone as lovely as her is unclaimed.”
Icy blue eyes darted to the corner of the room. “You’ve made no secret that you like her,” Trunks said.
“And that bothers you?”
“Why would it bother me?”
“That’s what I’m trying to determine.”
“Look,” Trunks sighed, the image of Marron and her perfect porcelain skin flushed beneath him becoming more and more faint as time went on. He sighed, knowing he had no claim to her. “If you like her, that’s your business, Zasso,” he relinquished softly.
Surprised, but appreciative, Zasso nodded. “As long as that’s the case,” the royal retorted, “I can feel better about it. Thank you.”
A staff member came up behind Zasso and pointed out a man at another table. The Souljin Ambassador nodded and stood up. “Excuse me, Prince Trunks,” he commented, “a constituent is here, and I should say hello. I’ll be back.”
As Zasso left, a new beverage appeared in front of Trunks, who drank it all in one fell swoop. “Can I get two more?” he requested the server.
Across the way, Goten observed his two fellow Earthlings so very out of their element. Unsurprisingly, Goten surmised Uub had never been to any place quite like this. Even Trunks doesn’t know what to make of the venue, Goten thought. Though years ago, Trunks and himself used to have some wild nights, those days were long behind them. Something else seemed to be distressing the eldest halfling, however, taking note of the distracted gaze Trunks emitted.
“Enjoying yourself, Son Goten?”
A deep baritone penetrated the air and brought Goten out of his thoughts. Prince Toge’s words captured Goten’s attention, turning to face the Souljin man all but bouncing the same brunette dancer from before on his right leg. Her hands caressed the royal’s broad chest and Goten had a suspicion that Toge was a regular at this spot.
“Not quite my scene,” the halfling admitted, noting the woman now suckling on Prince Toge’s earlobe. This didn’t seem to deter him.
“Surely, there must be something here you like,” Toge chuckled darkly. Gesturing to a bevy of dancers walking past them, it was clear to see Souljin women were beautiful and a bit exotic. Were he a bit younger, he may have been enticed; but none of them had the hold on him that a certain Saiyan Princess seemed to have.
Goten shook his head in denial, not wanting to think of Bulla while in his current surroundings, and looked downwards for a moment before meeting the gaze of the smirking royal.
The glint in his amber eyes appeared almost threatening. Almost as if he uncovered a deep secret unbeknownst to all but the two of them.
“Perhaps blue is more your color?” the middle prince posed, pointing over at a woman in a blue wig. While his eyes widened at the telling suggestion, Goten said nothing. Without waiting for an answer, Toge snapped his fingers in the dancer’s direction and motioned for her to come to their party.
Eagerly, the blue-wigged woman obliged her prince, meandering over with her hips fully swaying back and forth. Her barely there bikini was full of sequins shining whenever a stray strobe of light made contact. With a nod towards the hybrid, Prince Toge signaled the performer should spend her attention on him, which seemed to delight her. As her chocolate eyes drank in the Saiyan’s muscular form, she situated herself in front of him before he could protest.
She certainly was pretty to look at. Even Goten could appreciate the dancer’s figure and her ample assets, yet he did not want that same figure sitting on top of his leg. He did not want her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He did not want her hot breath and full lips on his neck.
He did not want her.
As politely as he could, Goten gently tugged away from the woman’s attempt and removed her off of his body. Confused, the blue-wigged dancer turned to Toge, who shrugged with a light laugh. He gestured for her to straddle his free leg while the brunette still occupied his other one, and she happily obeyed. Prince Toge rewarded her with a deep kiss before turning his head towards Goten once again.
“Blue hair is uncommon on Souljin,” he added in between both women exploring the prince with their hands. His unshaven jawline tickled them whenever he kissed the sides of their mouths, laughter bubbling up from the dancers in his arms. “Captivating, yes?” the royal wondered.
Prince Toge eyed his Earthling companion, expecting some sort of response. When Goten didn’t provide the reaction he wanted, Toge continued.
“Maybe it’s less of the color but rather who it belongs to,” the Souljin Prince analyzed.
This seemed to catch the other man’s attention. Toge smirked when he realized he had Goten’s full focus. “Princess Bulla is quite the beauty,” he began slowly, the women in his lap not minding him talking of another whatsoever. In a display of dominance, Toge grabbed the back of the blue-wigged dancer’s fake hair, which made her purr with rapture. Goten did his best to not pay attention to Toge’s antics, attempting to remain unbothered.
“She is,” the halfling agreed. He was short in his manner, hoping the subject would change.
Toge chuckled to himself. “Can’t say I blame you for being captivated, Son Goten,” he started again, “with a creature like that, how could you not be?”
The other man’s breathing steadied itself, internally reciting age-old mantras his father used to teach him for meditation purposes. He refused to let his emotions get the best of him in front of Prince Toge. “Bulla’s an old family friend,” Goten attempted to justify. With Toge’s doubting look, the Saiyan elaborated. “She’s like a little sister to me.”
“Ha!” Toge laughed with a sip of wine. “You stare at her pretty intently for something familial,” he declared, prompting Goten to frown. Another chuckle escaped the royal’s lips. “Though I’m one to talk,” Prince Toge admitted, “I, too, have a sister that’s easy on the eyes.”
A family of only sons, Goten knew Toge meant his sister-in-law, Hinoki.
“Prince Kusa is a lucky man,” the hybrid acknowledged.
“Older brothers always seem to have luck on their side, if nothing else.”
It was an oddly sincere statement coming from the Souljin Commander, made without contempt and yet, was rather telling. Despite his best efforts not to, Goten did feel a small sense of kinship as a second son. He attempted to placate the man. “I can understand that,” the ebony-haired man confessed.
“She was once to be my betrothed, you know,” Toge added, surprising Goten with the revelation. He finished the rest of his wine in a giant gulp before the brunette woman handed him a new chalice. “Hinoki is much closer in age to me, and Kusa was already engaged to a mousy woman I can barely remember…Ume was it?” Toge muttered to himself. Momentarily, he leaned forward and shouted at his younger brother down the way.
“Oy! Zasso!” Toge shouted impatiently across the room as his brother chatted away. Though he snapped his fingers as well, the loud thumping of the music and various voices filling the club made it all but impossible for Prince Zasso to hear him. Toge scoffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. “Screw it. Doesn’t matter what her name was,” he continued. “Since Kusa was supposedly taken, I assumed I would do my duty and eventually enter into a formal engagement with the woman.”
It was hard to imagine the middle prince settling down with anyone, given his roguish ways. Especially someone as graceful as Princess Hinoki, Goten thought.
Continuing, Toge took a big gulp of Souljin wine, wiping his lips. “Should’ve known she had her sights on a better prize.”
His Earthling companion was surprised at the comment. He didn’t know much about the Princess-Consort, but she didn’t seem the social climber type like Toge was implying. Though, his curiosity was piqued at what happened to Kusa’s other betrothed. Still, he assumed there was a perfectly innocent reason, despite the hints the Souljin man dropped. “I take it she chose Kusa over you?” Goten commented.
“Why settle for a middle prince when she could instead be a future queen?”
A wave of silence passed over them, save for the thunderous music in the background. Goten leaned back in his chair. “Well, I’m sure after all this time you see her simply as a sister now...”
With another sip of wine, Toge snickered at the other man’s words. “A sister I’d still like to fuck,” he said, tellingly. His glinted orbs shone with a touch of desire. “So forgive me if I find it hard to believe you do not wish to do the same with your own sister, Son Goten.”
The Saiyan man quietly seethed. “It’s not like that,” Goten said, not daring to look Toge in the eye this time in fear doing so would contradict his words.
“I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself at night when you think of her,” Toge snickered, amused at the thought. “Hopefully, she looks as good in your thoughts as she does in a dress because my, my; she certainly wears the hell out of them.”
This time, Goten didn’t dare waver in eye contact.
“Careful,” Goten warned, and for a moment Toge seemed to look as if he had gotten what he wanted. Clearing his throat, the half-Saiyan expanded upon his warning. “I'm sure Trunks wouldn’t appreciate you speaking about his sister that way.”
Toge leaned over and smirked as he observed the junior Saiyan Prince down the way. “Prince Trunks? Or you?” the Souljin Commander chortled, interrupting Goten before he could answer. “Your friend can hardly hear our conversation as is, but I’m not one to shy away from my comments. I stand by them.”
“I bet that gets you into trouble,” Goten finally muttered under his breath.
Seemingly enjoying the repartee, Toge smirked and let out a low, seductive growl in the brunette’s ear. “Hopefully, I do get into trouble this evening,” the prince murmured, stealing yet another kiss.
He turned to Goten again, enjoying the man’s not-so-subtle scowl at the statement. Prince Toge seemed more amused than deterred. The intensity of the look prompted the Saiyan to respond.
“What?”
“You’re a bit of a killjoy, you know?” the other man laughed. “You strike me as the type that doesn’t like to share his toys.”
“She’s not a–”
“–toy, yes, don’t be so noble. It’s exhausting on you.”
Toge threw back one more gulp before he was on to his third or fourth goblet of wine. He snapped for a refill for Goten’s glass as well, but the hybrid lifted his hand in protest, growing more and more annoyed with his surroundings and company. Shrugging, Toge took yet another sip of his alcohol, and returned his attention to the demi-Saiyan. “So, tell me then, man to man, Son Goten—should I be worried about stepping on someone’s toes?”
Somehow, Goten suspected the prince would enjoy that but kept his thoughts to himself. “As I’ve said,” the half-Saiyan felt his voice deepen unexpectedly, “it’s not like that.”
“I have a sense for these things, you know,” Toge said. “And I have the sense that you have an unspoken desire that, for whatever reason, you keep close to your chest. Maybe due to your station or whatever moral code you seem to be adhering to I know not, but…”
As he spoke the word, the middle prince planted a kiss on the buxom dancer’s décolletage, making his way to her shoulder. With careful finesse, Toge slowly loosened the strap of the woman in blue.
“But,” he repeated as his tone grew low, “perhaps if you don’t want the princess, I can have a turn with her...”
Without warning, and all while maintaining eye contact with Goten, the Souljin Prince pulled out the blue-wigged dancer’s breast. Not breaking his gaze, Toge lowered his lips to the woman’s hardened nipple and suckled. Met with a glare from the hybrid, a shimmer of amusement flickered in the prince’s gold eyes. Goten never wavered in keeping his eyes solely in line, avoiding the exposed body part that Toge was desperate for him to view. With a wet pop and a mewl from the dancer, Toge released her teat and chuckled darkly. “I know my way around a woman,” he added with a touch of menace, his hand now firmly cupping the breast.
Though he sat perfectly still, Goten could sense his own ki flaring. His dark eyes issued a wordless warning, which only seemed to drive the prince to laughter. Desperate to maintain the air of composure, he said nothing and held his ground. As Toge’s laughs grew louder, Goten stood up to join his friends at the other end, but held eye contact before he finally broke it, signifying the end to the tumultuous exchange.
The music in the air continued to pound, and the hybrid’s thoughts raced with the implication of Toge’s previous words. It was impossible to shake the glower on his face, something not unnoticed by his best friend.
“You good?” Trunks asked.
Between the noise level and his deep thoughts, Goten didn’t hear Trunks’ question until he was prompted once more. “Goten?” Trunks continued, waving a hand in front of the other halfling’s vantage point.
Blinking himself out of the concentrated state he was in, Goten turned to face the younger Saiyan Prince. Offering a weak smile, he nodded politely, but Trunks knew him well enough to sense something was off.
“What’s wrong?” he probed with slight concern.
Goten briefly glanced back at Toge, who was buried in the exposed chest of the other dancer now, before sharply turning back towards Trunks. He conjured a breathless noise, the weight of it all hitting him at once. “Once upon a time, this would have been fun to us,” the darker-haired man acknowledged, a hint of remorse in his tone for his wilder days.
Softened by the recognition, Trunks nodded in agreement. “Been a long time since that was the case,” he added. Leaning back in his seat, Trunks looked upwards. A flash of Marron’s blonde tresses made him wistful. “Suppose the fact that it’s no longer that way isn’t a bad thing. Means we want…more I guess.”
More.
The comment halted Goten as he thought of the other man’s sister. How he had uttered that very word to her the other evening about what she meant to him. Such an appropriate phrase to encompass the wide range of emotions attached to it. Yet, still so much he had to say.
If Trunks knew the more that he desired was Bulla, Goten doubted his friend would be so considerate.
“Uh guys…”
The two demi-Saiyans glanced over at their other friend, who was cornered in the booth by multiple women on both sides of him. Uub had a panicked expression on his face as one of the women whispered something that must have been salacious considering the red shade he turned. The sight would have been funny to Goten and Trunks if Uub didn’t appear so perturbed.
“Guys,” he muttered with a gulp, “I…I did not sign up for this.”
Both hybrids tried to stifle their laughter, knowing it was time to rescue their friend. “Alright Uub,” Trunks said, rising out of his seat and extending his arm. “Sorry ladies, it’s past his bedtime,” he added as he pulled Uub up from out of the bevy of beautiful women surrounding him. The man would have protested the jab, but he was more concerned with finally breaking free. Confused and disappointed, several of the dancers pouted as Uub finally breathed a sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” Uub quipped as the three men gathered to leave. Trunks took note of Zasso still across the room engrossed in conversation with the man from earlier. Not wanting to interrupt, he turned back to the other Souljin Prince, who was face deep in a rather lovely pair of tits, but Trunks sheepishly averted his gaze.
“Prince Toge,” he attempted to shout over the loud music, “I think we’re going to call it a night.”
Toge’s attention was still fixated on both women to his sides. When he didn’t answer, Trunks was about to repeat himself, but Goten cut in.
“Toge.”
The tone he used cut like a knife. Still, it was successful in getting the middle prince to acknowledge the three visitors. His mocking smirk formed on display for all to see.
“Leaving so soon?” Toge clucked his tongue in disingenuous disapproval. The prince’s hands had replaced where his mouth had been on the dancers’ chests, eliciting a scowl from Goten, while Trunks spoke.
“We’re going to head back to the palace,” Trunks said, “it’s getting a bit late.”
The smirk on the Souljin Royal’s face grew a touch more sinister. “Ah forgive me,” he answered mockingly, “here I thought you were men about town.”
Kneading the soft mound of flesh in his hands, Toge chuckled with a sliver of amusement in his tone. “Of course, whatever you don’t touch I can make use of,” Toge continued as he turned his gaze directly at Goten. “I suppose, though, the same can be said even if you have touched as well,” he added with a malicious wink.
Inside, Goten was simmering and were it not for the glare and the minute vibration of his fist in place, no one would be none the wiser.
Trunks also didn’t appreciate the tone, even if he hadn’t been privy to the earlier conversation. “You do that,” he said in a less than kind manner. With a nod, he gestured for Goten and Uub to follow him out. As their forms walked towards the exit, Toge made one last remark.
“Son Goten!”
Stopping in place, Goten refused to turn completely, merely offering his head to the man.
“Say hi to the princess for me…” Toge finished, resuming his previous exploration of the dancers’ bodies.
Goten could have sworn the music got louder at that moment, because everything became muffled in his ears. The lights flashed red, an almost metaphor of the quiet rage he tried to quell inside. Trunks attempted to say something to his friend, but he was drowned out by both the sounds of the club and the relentless thoughts racing inside of Goten’s head.
…
“What was that about?” Trunks asked Goten again as they exited the club. His friend was focused on the ground, his mind clearly elsewhere.
“Goten?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?” Uub asked with concern. Without waiting for an answer, Trunks interjected with his previous train of thought.
“Dude,” Trunks continued, “I heard him say ‘princess’; was that asshole talking about Bulla?”
Goten didn’t want to get into the minutiae of it all, not there on a crowded street. Before Goten could formulate a response, something else interrupted the three.
“Friends! A moment?”
The trio turned to see Zasso speeding up to catch them, slightly out of breath. He clearly had wanted to make sure they hadn’t gotten too far.
“What do you want, Zasso?” Trunks said a bit tersely. He was already annoyed enough as it was and had little patience. Especially for him.
“I wanted to…” the Souljin Prince trailed off, both catching his breath and mulling over his answer. He seemed to find his answer and steadied himself. “I wanted to apologize,” Zasso continued, “had I known this is where Toge planned to come, I would have immediately suggested an alternative.”
While Trunks’ eyes narrowed in disbelief, Goten spoke for them. “It’s fine, Zasso. You didn’t know,” the Son man remarked.
Zasso tipped his head over apologetically. “My brother is…” his countenance shifted to the side. There was much he seemed to want to say but couldn’t. “Well, he has always had his own way about him,” the royal continued. He cleared his throat. “Even so, I apologize and hope that you’ll forgive me for any awkwardness this evening.”
The trio looked at one another, searching for a united approval before replying. “No need to apologize,” Uub finally answered for them.
The Souljin Ambassador put his hands together in thanks. “You honor me with your grace,” he said. Stepping back, Prince Zasso gave one final bow. “I’m going to make sure Toge doesn’t get himself into much more trouble, but the palace shouldn’t be too far from here. I’ll see you all tomorrow evening at the ball.”
As the prince returned inside the club, the muffled music and intense bass pounding through the walls, Goten stood frozen in place. While Trunks and Uub had already started to head back in the direction of their destination, the hybrid could only think of Toge and his not so thinly veiled remarks about Bulla. Noticing their companion was standing in the same spot, Trunks and Uub paused. “Goten? Are you coming?” the eldest hybrid wondered.
Turning his attention from the ground to the sky, Goten’s fists clenched. “I need to clear my head for a bit,” he answered back, “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“Huh? What are you–”
Goten didn’t wait to explain himself further as he took off into the air, leaving both Trunks and Uub perplexed and a little concerned for the sudden change in mood.
-=-=-=-
After flying around by himself, Goten took the long way back to the palace alone, lost to his thoughts. The crisp Souljin air did little to calm his nerves, but the solitude was welcomed. He landed in the front piazza and resumed his journey on foot. As he ascended the staircase into the main foyer, Toge’s words echoed like a schoolyard taunt.
Perhaps if you don’t want the princess, I can have a turn with her…
The seething anger that coiled deep in his belly threatened to unleash itself, but Goten was a remarkable man of constraint. Though his brow indicated himself deep in thought, he kept whatever negative emotions the earlier confrontation brought bottled up.
Much like he had been doing in other ways.
He assumed his trek back to his room would be without any disturbances, yet, like so many times before, he found himself at the mercy of a goddess in human form.
Moonlight billowed in and its bluish hue bathed the princess splendidly. It appeared he had caught her on her way back to her room for the evening. She seemed entranced by Souljin’s twin moons, so much so that she hadn’t noticed Goten entering the hall.
“Oh Goten,” she rang out happily. The smile on her face was bright and inviting. “Didn’t know you guys were back yet. How was your night with–”
Soundlessly, he glissaded towards the bluette, those bright bulbs of cobalt twinkling like an endless sea of stars in the night sky. Before she could process what was happening, Goten pulled her into a firm embrace.
Bulla sniffed the faint remnants of smoke and booze on his apparel, but it was clear Goten wasn’t drunk in the slightest. She had wondered where on Souljin they had gone to have his clothing smell like it did. But, as her face pressed against his neck, the discernable whiff of musk brought her back to what was easily recognizable. The heiress felt the arms around her tighten and the ever so slight thumping of the other hybrid’s heartbeat.
“Bulla…”
Languidly, she lifted her eyes at the mention of her name; the voice summoning her was low and serious, but full of reverence. Waiting to meet her gaze, was a pair of sable-colored eyes that pierced the veneer of familial feelings. The dryness of her mouth caught Bulla unawares.
Tracing his calloused thumb over her bottom lip, Goten zeroed in on the face he had come to dream about. How unexpectedly it had all started for him, and yet, how natural it felt. While he tried his best to deny it, to avoid temptation and maintain the semblance of normalcy, Goten knew he was already too far gone.
So many saw her at face value, and while Goten thought hers was one of the loveliest faces in the universe, there was so much more to Bulla than just her beauty. If only those who admired her from afar could hear her scientific theories, her impeccable recollection of pop culture. If only they could listen to her rave about how some people look better in jewel tones while others don’t, and on the same day show compassion when she’d see a charity collecting donations in the mall.
How many times now had he resisted her? He was starting to lose count.
Pressing his forehead against hers, Goten closed his eyes and breathed her in. His exhales sounded almost desperate, and Bulla was surprised at this sudden outburst of affection. It was what she had wanted a few evenings prior, in her inebriated state, but even more now with her inhibitions unaltered.
“Goten,” she murmured when he remained silent.
Pulling back, Goten observed Bulla’s face gazing at him quizzically. He was overwhelmed with the desire to reunite their mouths for the first time in months, and yet, the hybrid was locked in place. Were Toge here, the prince would have no hesitation and press his lips and maybe more against the woman in his arms. The thought was enough to make Goten sick. Despite that, as his thumb continued to lightly strum her bottom lip like a finely strung instrument; he was determined to show he was different.
Even if, deep inside, Toge’s remark that they were the same haunted his own thoughts.
“Goten?”
Bulla attempted to reach the man once more with his blank stare making her wonder what the matter was. She drew in a quickened breath at the sensation of his calloused thumb massaging her lip.
He paused his movements, instead deciding to lift his whole hand to cup her cheek. Bulla’s face grew hot, and her heartbeat quickened.
“I see you,” Goten murmured gently, solidifying his words from the other night. Stroking her cheek, his worshipful focus never wavered. The halfling’s chest tightened watching his counterpart’s turquoise eyes extend.
“Goten…” Bulla stammered out for the third time.
He brought his other hand to her unoccupied cheek, cupping her face with marked veneration. The bluette gulped as the intensity of his gaze heightened. “I see you, Bulla,” Goten whispered, meaning every word.
Bulla’s eyes fluttered, the direct staring beginning to be a bit overwhelming. She felt her hands get clammy, shivering in place. The princess could hear only the labored breathing that she assumed was her own, but Goten was close enough to her that it could have very well been his too.
She didn’t have time to tell before she felt herself being pulled into another tight embrace. Though wrapped firmly, Bulla managed to snake her arms around his strong frame, enjoying the unexpected contact.
For what seemed like an eternity, they remained attached to one another.
He stroked her hair, bewitched by the smooth texture and gorgeous shade of aquamarine it was. Though he could have remained there for much longer, the hybrid knew his time was short. Regretfully, Goten pulled apart from her, his fingers caressing down her frame before detaching altogether. Without a word, he headed towards his room, leaving Bulla just as confused.
“What?” she asked as he turned.
The other halfling paused as he reached the entrance to his wing, a force keeping him from going past the threshold. His palm lay flat against the doorway, pensive about what to say.
“Just…”
So much he could say, but he lacked the courage, the voice. Just don’t fall for some asshole like Toge, he begged silently. Just don’t think you’re not constantly on my mind. Just know that you’re the most breathtaking creature in this universe. Just know that you’re too good for someone like him, someone like me. Just know that I want–
Stop that, he chided himself internally.
“Just…know that you deserve only good things,” Goten murmured gently, looking back at her. I am not a good thing, Princess, was the part he kept to himself as he exited the hall.
She stood there breathless.
Silently absorbing the weight of what had happened and how, even though she couldn’t explain it, Bulla believed the winds of change were blowing for her and Goten. And the daughter of Vegeta wasn’t about to let anything get in the way of that…
Emboldened, the bluette swiftly headed towards the royal wing, but her destination was not her room.
It was time she took matters into her own hands to coax a decision out of the man. Still, she was proud of the progress Goten made that evening. Bulla had only asked for an inch, and here, he had given her a mile.
He had given her hope.
…
Unbeknownst to the princess, her private encounter with Goten wasn’t as private as she believed.
After returning to the palace with Prince Kusa, Gohan found himself caught up in good conversation with the Souljin Royal. Though Kusa had a bit of a reserved nature, Gohan found the man to be intelligent and engaging in a one-on-one setting. He was happy to see that the two could find common ground.
Both men had continued their discussion from their walk and to Gohan’s delight, Kusa ended up giving an exclusive tour of the impressive palace library. During their perusal of the facility, Gohan discovered some interesting literature on Souljin history. Ever the scholar, he enjoyed the bevy of fresh material to devour.
Once he and Kusa parted ways, he headed back towards his room, nose deep into one of the books he borrowed.
Gohan had begun to turn the corner moments earlier but when he realized he walked in on the intimate moment between Goten and Bulla, he quickly pressed up against the wall, flushed with embarrassment. He was well aware of Goten’s blossoming connection with the princess, noticing the lingering glances and subtle touches, but had yet to see any outward display of this magnitude.
What was most striking, however, was the otherworldly discipline his brother showcased. As much as he loved Goten, it was no secret the younger man had a bit more of an epicurean approach to life. Gohan knew this. The concerns he had shared with Goten that night at their parents’ house came from a place of caution.
At first, Gohan had assumed that perhaps Goten was trying to fill the void of singleness with whoever was available. His parental instincts immediately became protective of Bulla, who was quite close in age to Pan, and so naturally Gohan wanted to make sure there weren’t any sort of power imbalances between the two. The last thing he ever wanted to see was Bulla be helpless to his brother’s whims, even if they were well-intentioned.
Yet, as he witnessed Goten exuding the utmost of constraint, it was as if any and every preconceived notion of their dynamic was rendered invalid. The genius had gotten it wrong.
For the first time, it was all too clear: Goten was the helpless one.
-=-=-=-
Bulla felt foolish knocking on Princess Hinoki’s door so late, but the light behind it gave her hope that she may yet be up. The heiress shifted nervously as a shadowed form appeared to undo the intricate lock. Opening the door was not the Souljin Princess however, but her husband. His tall stature dwarfed Bulla’s form, as she immediately bowed over in respect. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of Prince Kusa just yet, but she didn’t want to get on his bad side, that much was certain.
“Princess Bulla,” she heard him speak as her focus was still downwards. Her bright, azure orbs lifted to meet his pair of emerald eyes.
“Prince Kusa,” Bulla nodded, “I’m so sorry for the intrusion…Princess Hinoki had said…”
“She’s expecting you,” the Crown Prince interrupted, stoically. He widened the door to the bewildered Saiyan Princess, who blinked in rapid succession. Prince Kusa motioned for her to follow him inside the astonishingly large royal quarters and, not wanting to keep him waiting, Bulla did as instructed.
More impressive even than her luxurious room, the heir and Hinoki could want for nothing. They had a balcony of their own that was twice the size of the one Bulla had, and a spacious walk-in closet that seemed to be a bedroom all on its own. Kusa cleared his throat to get his wife’s attention, her concentration solely on braiding her impossibly long ringlets. She turned from her task, smiling widely when she realized her husband brought in company. Bowing at Kusa, the Princess-Consort gestured for him to give them some privacy, to which the prince drew a pipe from inside his cloak and headed towards the balcony to smoke it. Once left alone, the auburn-haired woman turned her attention to Bulla.
“Princess!” Hinoki rang out happily. She darted over to the younger woman and took her hand in hers. “I had a feeling I’d be seeing you.”
“You did?” Bulla wondered, perplexed.
“I told you to come and find me should you need anything,” Hinoki responded, lightly squeezing. She escorted the other princess to her walk-in. “You didn’t seem thrilled with your dress during the fitting.”
“Oh,” the Saiyan Princess began to blush, worried that she had been rude. “It really was a lovely piece, Princess Hinoki,” she continued, “it just wasn’t—”
“—wasn’t the dress, was it?”
Bulla smiled sheepishly. “I know that red is the official color for Saiyan royalty,” she acknowledged, “I’m just not sure if that’s what I’d like to wear.”
The Princess-Consort waved her hand. “Please,” she started to say, “tradition is overrated. I would like to see you happy more than anything, dear.”
Her encouragement prompted Bulla to bow her head in thanks.
“Toge had requested an oxblood cape,” Hinoki remarked, taking note of the corners of Bulla’s mouth turning downhill. A slight smirk managed to form on the older woman’s face at the reaction.
“Perhaps though, there is someone else you are looking to match with?” the golden flecks of her irises seemed to twinkle when asking the question, seemingly already aware of the answer.
The younger woman felt her cheeks reddening. “Perhaps,” she returned quietly.
Princess Hinoki beamed. “Well, we should definitely make sure you look your absolute best,” the pureblood Soulan sweetly murmured in Bulla’s ear.
Revealing an elaborate collection of dresses in her walk-in, Bulla was unable to contain her astonishment at the selection. From silk to satin, to everything in between, the Souljin Princess had amassed an impressive array of options.
“My pre-pregnancy gowns I’ve kept should fit your figure nicely,” Hinoki continued, “please take whatever you wish.”
“Hinoki, these are…”
Bulla trailed off, feeling immensely grateful for the older woman’s kindness. She turned to face her, the words finding their way out of her throat. “These are beautiful,” she added, “thank you.”
She felt Hinoki’s well-manicured nails trace her back in a loving gesture; ever the mother. The Souljin Royal lifted her hand to give Bulla room to browse. Her eyes twinkled as she gleefully watched the Earthling peruse.
“Did you have a particular color in mind, Princess?”
As Bulla’s fingers delicately touched the various fabrics in front of her, a warm glow ignited from within. The hybrid’s fingers continued their journey across the bevy of dresses in Princess Hinoki’s closet until they paused; the perfect shade suddenly held in her hands. Silky and sheer, the lovely fabric a dream to grasp, and the heiress knew she found what she was looking for. A soft and contended grin formed upon her lips when Bulla turned to reply.
“Blue.”
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 9 and we are feeling fine BECAUSEEEEEEEE…
Next chapter is the long awaited Souljin BALLLLLLLLLLLL
Chapter 10: The grand ball begins. Will Goku eat all the food? Will Trunks be brave enough to ask Marron to dance? Will Vegeta accept an intriguing proposal? WILL GOTEN AND BULLA HAVE THEIR MOMENT?
I’m ultra excited for the next chapter; it’s honestly what kick-started this whole idea. The thought of a modern-day ball with Saiyan Regalia that wasn’t an AU Vegeta-Sei scenario. Get ready folks!! We are ALMOST THERE!
-SonChan
Chapter 11: Chapter 10: Belle of the Ball
Summary:
Chapter 10: The grand ball begins. Will Goku eat all the food? Will Trunks be brave enough to ask Marron to dance? Will Vegeta accept an intriguing proposal? WILL GOTEN AND BULLA HAVE THEIR MOMENT?
Notes:
Disclaimers: Like always, I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the title of Planet Souljin and the character Kail. Other characters and Souljin lore/details are all my creation. Also, reminder that I go off of original ages with Bulla older than Pan since old habits die hard!
Author’s Note: We have ARRIVED!! I am so stoked to share this chapter with all of you. This has been the scene that would not leave my head, and eventually, out of it came a full-fledged story. To think this little love letter to my OTP has grown into over 100k words already is quite insane, but I’m eternally grateful for all the love and support. I hope, I HOPE you enjoy this as much as I do. This is part one of the ball!
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Belle of the Boulevard, Faerie Soiree, LA FAMA, Iris, An Evening I Will Not Forget
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 10: Belle of the Ball
Trunks had not felt princely in days.
Ever since his humiliating loss against Zasso, he had been pushing down this gnawing feeling of inadequacy. This was certainly new to him, though the emotion wasn’t completely foreign. It wasn’t easy being the heir to the Capsule Corp. fortune and company, as well as the heir to the would-be throne of Vegeta. He was royalty, a fact his father would drone in his head over and over as a child, and he was essentially human royalty with his status as president of the Capsule Corp. empire. Much of his life had come without struggle.
And yet—
The expectations of others weighed down on him; a silent burden Trunks would pretend didn’t bother him. Truly his parents’ son, two workaholics in their own right, the demi-Saiyan powered through and buried it inside him, determined to not show that side to anyone. Taking after his father, especially in that way, the proud hybrid never wanted to showcase his inadequacies for all to see.
Until somehow, a chance encounter with his childhood friend turned his world topsy-turvy.
He couldn't put his finger on it. This was Marron. For years, Trunks and her were two different people, but found some sort of friendship in spite of it. Aside from Goten, there wasn’t anyone else he trusted more. Sure, he would have the occasional thought of her in a less than brotherly way, but Marron was gorgeous; and he was only human, albeit half-human. She had the rare ability to drop his guard and heighten it all at the same time.
Last night’s conversation with Prince Zasso regarding Marron brought Trunks to a strange realization. It would have been so easy for him to derail Zasso’s interest in Marron, but couldn’t. He didn’t want to jeopardize his friendship with the blonde, even via dissuading Zasso from pursuing her. It technically wasn’t his place.
Trunks sighed; he wondered if he’d ever know his place.
Staring in the mirror, he almost didn’t recognize himself. Trunks donned a magnificent piece of Saiyan Regalia, crisp white with navy undertones and a strange symbol on the chest. Looking back at him, the reflection was a much more refined and regal version than he was used to. In some ways, it felt fraudulent; Trunks could talk a big game to make himself feel more important than he was, playing up his pedigree and confidence. In this ensemble however, it was a glimpse at almost what could have been.
Whatever uneasiness he felt inside, it was masked by the ever stoic gaze of Clan Vegeta.
“You look incredibly handsome, Trunks.”
Blushing at his mother’s words, Trunks was in the middle of trying to fasten the remaining clasps. “Thanks Mom,” he said in the midst of struggling. An annoyed scoff unleashed under his breath and Bulma, sensing his frustration, walked over to assist. Trunks nodded in thanks while his mother fidgeted with the mechanism.
“I feel weird in this,” he confessed freely.
Bulma nodded. “I understand. It’s an adjustment for us all—save your father, I suppose.”
She glanced back at Vegeta entering the room, having been done with his Saiyan Regalia for quite some time now. He certainly looked the most princely he ever had. Never coronated, Vegeta had refused a crown, but after much convincing from King Engei, he accepted a small circlet that had been crafted specifically for him for the occasion. Both Trunks and Vegeta had navy capes with the inside lined red; a telltale sign of Saiyan Royalty.
“Well, there’s my handsome prince!” Bulma complimented, admiring her husband as his cheeks flushed. He grunted something under his breath and Bulma knew him well enough to know that was his way of accepting the compliment.
“Are you done yet?” Vegeta questioned, growing impatient.
“Hold your horses, Your Highness,” his wife answered mockingly, “almost there.”
Her nimble fingers did their best to hurry, and Trunks glanced at the symbol on his chest.
“I think they have the symbol the wrong way on here,” Trunks commented, recalling a slightly different emblem on Kusa’s garments as well as on various pennants throughout the castle.
“Fool,” Vegeta chastised, “have I taught you nothing of your heritage? That’s the Saiyan Royal Crest.”
“Then why do the Souljins flip theirs?”
“Because they’re wrong.”
“Vegeta!”
“Fine. Because their ancestors were on the opposite side of the Sadalan Civil War,” Vegeta continued, “and that faction of Saiyans inverted the symbol. Honestly, to see it plastered everywhere here feels like a mockery.”
“Vegeta,” Bulma clicked her tongue, “these people have shown you nothing but kindness, even going so far as to ensure the proper symbol on your own armor which they had so graciously custom made for you. You could stand to show a little more gratitude.”
“I never said I was ungrateful,” Vegeta insisted, “just that it’s the wrong symbol.”
“Maybe it was your side who started the war,” Bulma taunted, eager to push his buttons yet still struggling with the foreign armor. “Maybe your family were the ones to change it. Ever consider that?”
Vegeta scoffed. “Don’t try me woman,” he said plainly, “this is not the night.”
Bulma released Trunks’ clasp to turn to yell at her husband. “Vegeta,” she chided, “I did not squeeze myself into this gorgeous gown, which you have YET to compliment me on, may I remind you, only for you to call me woman.”
“Can we not do this now?” Trunks groaned, knowing they were cutting it close as is.
His mother turned her head in a huff and made an attempt for the clasp again, but Vegeta intervened. “Give me that,” he said, taking over. “It’s not as difficult as either of you are making it out to be.”
This prompted Bulma to mutter under her breath and leave to check on her daughter’s progress down the hall. Trunks grew quiet as his father adjusted the strap with ease. At first, he felt embarrassed that his father had to step in and worried that he’d be chastised for being an imbecile. Especially after his sorry display in the barracks. But Trunks was surprised that not only was Vegeta silent, he seemed calm.
He was taken with the look in his father’s eye—it was foreign to him. Usually, Vegeta just scowled in disappointment or, on very rare occasions, he would show a quiet sort of admiration. The current expression favored the latter.
“Dad?” Trunks questioned after a brief period of silence. Vegeta kept his focus on the armor, slowly raising his eyeline towards his son’s face.
“For once, you look more Saiyan than Earthling.”
The remark drove Trunks to lift his eyebrows in genuine surprise. It was certainly not something he was used to hearing from Vegeta.
“I…” Trunks was at a loss for words. He could sense his cheeks flushing while his heart inflated with pride; this was one of the closer moments the father and son pair had and Trunks appreciated the significance. For Vegeta to comment as he did, the younger Saiyan Prince knew his father must have truly felt that way. A shy grin appeared.
“I take it…that’s a good thing?” Trunks said, almost knowingly.
Vegeta smirked, giving one last tug on the clasp. “As if you have to ask,” he stated, finally finished with the cape.
Both briefly regarded each other with the same countenance, and while their coloring was different, the similarities of the duo was more than evident this evening. Even so, Vegeta’s signature scowl returned seconds later as he stood about-face and snarled, “Now quit dawdling. The sooner we attend this affair, the sooner we can leave all the pomp and circumstance behind.”
Trunks chuckled to himself. There was the Vegeta he knew.
Moments later, Bulma returned to the room and sighed. “Bulla is still getting ready,” she said, bracing herself for the reaction. Vegeta looked annoyed but merely shook his head.
“Let the girl arrive late,” the Saiyan Prince responded, “I’ll not have the rest of us do the same.”
His wife almost protested leaving without their daughter, but understood they had their own timelines. Vegeta walked past her and Bulma nearly followed suit, but paused when she saw Trunks still in front of the mirror. He looked deep in thought, touching the Saiyan crest on his armor with rapt attention.
“Trunks?”
He turned his head towards his mother, snapping out his daydream. “Yes?”
“Sweetheart, we’re heading down,” she said, “let’s go.”
With one last look in the mirror, Trunks tore away and followed his parents. Any apprehension he had would have to be buried once again.
Like he always did.
-=-=-=-
The splendor of the Souljin Palace ballroom could not be understated.
At the bottom of a grand staircase, the hall was rich in blue and gold hues, with a substantial dance floor in the middle of the room. On one end, an ornate head table decorated to the nines, across the way, was a plentiful buffet. Palace staff also made the rounds with appetizers and drinks, leaving no one to want for anything. There was a latticed wall that led to a large balcony overlooking the water gardens.
Candelabras irradiated the sparkling setting, and a full orchestra played tune after tune of melodious music. The dance floor was lively with men in their formal regalia while the women wowed in various colored ballgowns. Music trumpeted in the air, making it difficult to hear any introductions. Hundreds of conversations at once also brought the noise level to an elevated high.
For Goten, it was one of the more fascinating spectacles he witnessed in his twenty-nine years.
Joined by Goku, the two walked in on the tail end of the festivities starting up. Goten had come across his father in the hallway, both donned in their new custom finery, on his way to the ballroom. Dark blue capes hung at their backside, giving a sense of regalness that felt out of the ordinary for the two. As they entered, the surroundings instantly captivated Goten. Here he had already seen most of the palace, and yet, the Souljins continued to outdo themselves.
While descending the staircase, the younger Son man observed King Engei at the center of the head table, most of his family on the left side. He was carrying on a conversation with Bulma, while Vegeta was situated quietly in between. Trunks sat disinterested on the other side of his mother. Right next to him was an empty seat.
Bulla wasn’t there, he noted. Maybe she was grabbing a drink or hanging with Marron and Pan.
He had little time to wonder, as Goku’s fidgeting caused enough of a distraction to get sidetracked.
“Everything okay?” Goten asked.
“I feel a little funny dressed this way,” Goku admitted to his youngest. Goten gave an encouraging smile.
“This could have been your normal outfit in another life,” he said, almost pensive.
Goku laughed. “Glad that wasn’t the case,” the elder man replied. “Give me my normal training gi any day over this.”
Princess Hinoki and her attendants stopped the two men in their path. Her emerald gown gave the already majestic royal an even more stately appearance.
“Welcome Son Goku, Son Goten,” the Princess-Consort greeted with a smile. “I trust your outfits are to your liking?” she wondered, ever the gracious host.
Bowing politely, Goten answered for both of them. “Yes, thank you again for your generosity, Princess Hinoki,” he said sweetly.
Hinoki beamed, eyeing the man up and down with a twinkle in her gilded irises. She wasn’t inspecting him out of romantic attraction, that much was clear, but there certainly was something that prompted the Souljin royal to take an interest. Goten wondered if perhaps he bowed incorrectly.
“I’m delighted to hear that,” Hinoki responded. Her body shifted to face Goku. “Son Goku,” Princess Hinoki began again with a smile, “we’ve arranged a spot for you at the head table over at the end right past Prince Vegeta’s family. We’d be honored to have you join us.”
“Gee, thanks!” Goku responded in his genuine tone. Hinoki beamed at the older man’s sincerity.
“Son Goten, you and your brother, along with the rest of the Earthling guests will be close by at another table. I do hope that’s alright.”
“It’s perfect,” Goten quickly assured. The less attention on him the better, he thought to himself. Goten snuck a glance at Trunks looking bored out of his mind at the head table and chuckled at the sight.
“Wonderful! Do let me know if either of you need anything,” she stated, “I’ll be making the rounds but please reach out to me or any of the palace staff should your drinks or plates need refilling. We’ve several buffets available as well if you’d prefer to grab yourself.”
“Man oh man, Goten! Look at all that food!”
His son didn’t even have a chance to answer before his father darted off in search of his next meal. He sheepishly grinned at Hinoki. “Appreciate all the help, Your Grace,” Goten murmured, a faint blush of awkwardness ornamenting his cheeks.
Still sprouting a coy smile from earlier, Hinoki assessed the man in front of her again with fascination. She dipped her head to her attendants and they curtseyed and left the two alone. Goten found it odd but didn’t dare to question the Princess-Consort. Stepping a bit closer, the shorter woman looked up at Goten and hummed an inquisitive noise.
“Tell me, Son Goten,” the golden-eyed beauty stated. “I know both your father and brother’s wives were unable to visit Souljin,” she continued, “did you also leave a wife behind on Earth?”
Taken aback by the question, Goten stuttered before reply. “I’m uh–I’m actually not married,” he answered. The other woman’s eyebrows raised with interest.
“No betrothed then either?”
“None.”
“Any relations of any kind?” she questioned curiously.
“I’m–”
Goten didn’t quite know how to express that while he was single, he wasn’t looking to be paired with anyone. “I have someone in mind,” he said earnestly. Seemingly content with his answer, Hinoki’s radiant smile only grew.
“I bet whoever has your attention is quite lucky,” she complimented. The little flash of intrigue in her eye alluded to Hinoki knowing a bit more than she was saying, but Goten didn’t want to be presumptuous. Clearing her throat, the Princess-Consort bowed her head. “I’ll be sure to relay your status back to my handmaidens so they do not get their hopes up for a dance,” she added.
Though her reasoning made sense, Goten was still a bit suspicious at the line of questioning. Even so, Hinoki was nothing but kind. “Give them my thanks at least,” he said, trying to laugh off any nerves.
Hinoki beamed once more. “I wish you a pleasant evening, Son Goten,” she finished, giving her best curtsy as she left to attend to her other guests.
Watching her leave, Goten wondered the motivation behind her sudden interest in his background.
With his father off to make a mess of the buffet, Goten decided to try and find Bulla—starting with locating the other women of the group. His eyes lit up when he was able to locate them at the edge of the dance floor.
Marron’s ensemble was a light, pastel pink ball gown that flowed when she turned. Her beautiful, blonde tresses were worn down with just a touch of curling at the edges. Pan also styled her hair down, wearing a metallic silver piece that was more fitted and less-princessy…right up her alley. She looked super identical to his mother, and Goten couldn’t help but smile at his niece’s brimming adulthood. Sneaking up from behind, Goten joined the two on the sideline.
“Now what are you two lovely ladies doing over here alone?”
His friend and niece turned around to smile and greet him. “There you are,” Marron remarked, “we were wondering when you’d join.”
“Hi Uncle Goten,” Pan waved, “you look nice.”
“Me?” Goten asked with a light laugh. He threw up a hand and gestured at the quarter-hybrid. “Look at you! No way that’s my niece all dressed up.”
“Very funny,” Pan stuck her tongue out.
“Trunks is stuck at the head table,” Marron said, pointing over to their friend looking bored out of his mind. Goten noticed the still empty seat next to Trunks, wondering where Bulla was if she hadn't been with the girls. He didn’t have time to speculate long before Marron continued speaking.
“And Uub is, well…”
The trio glanced at Uub who, once again, appeared to be at the center of a plethora of Souljin women.
Goten couldn’t help but laugh, much to Pan’s dismay, finding the sight a near repeat of their prior evening. “Uub certainly seems to be popular,” he remarked, causing his niece to huff in frustration.
“These women act as if they’ve never seen a man before,” she grunted, chomping on a chicken skewer with great intensity. Both Marron and Goten shared a knowing glance at one another.
“If I didn’t know better Pan…”
“You don’t know better, Uncle Goten.”
“Yikes,” Goten chuckled, “maybe that’s my cue to go mingle elsewhere.”
Marron laughed into her palm. She didn’t blame her friend for wanting to escape Pan’s ire. “Enjoy the ball, Goten,” she said sweetly, contrasting the sharp tone his niece had used. “We’ll catch up with you later.”
With a wave, Goten left to go seek some more familiar faces. He searched the sea of guests for any signs of blue hair, but aside from Bulma, he wasn’t able to locate any women with that feature. Granted, only one woman with that hair color was of interest to him. He sighed, hoping that eventually he’d cross paths with the illusive princess.
Since Trunks was occupied, the next option he noticed was Piccolo, who was easy to spot, but also tied up with a crowd of people curious to meet a Namekian for the first time. Thankfully, he didn’t have to look too far to come across another Earthling. His older brother, the golden boy himself, sporting his one-bang hairstyle amidst a glasses-free face, which was quite the oddity.
“Busting out the contacts for this, bro?”
Gohan turned to see his brother snickering and chuckled to himself. “One of us had to be the attractive sibling,” he teased.
“Ooh, ouch!” Goten clutched his heart in mock pain. “And here you’ve tricked everyone into thinking you’re the nice one…”
Another light laugh accompanied the two brothers as they shared a quick hug. “Truthfully, I just didn’t want to worry about fogging them up,” Gohan confessed, “I always get a little nervous at these things.”
“Nervous? You?”
Gohan smiled, facing his sibling. “Sure. There are a ton of foreign dignitaries and council members attending. We’re here to make a good impression, aren’t we?” he said, beaming. As soon as he uttered those words, the two brothers' attention diverted to some loud shattering of china near the buffet. Evidently enough, their father may have been a little too eager when trying to fill his plates. Gohan sighed. “Well, most of us are anyway,” he continued, shaking his head.
Goten chuckled in reply. “I can understand that,” the younger sibling admitted, thinking of how he showered twice in a row because he was so anxious about looking presentable.
Handing his brother a wineglass from the passing server, the two clinked their glasses. “To overcoming nerves,” Gohan said pointedly.
“Hear, hear,” Goten concurred, taking a sip.
Gohan looked as if he was about to say something further, but he stopped mid-raise of his chalice. Whatever caught his gaze didn’t seem to be a bad thing. Noticing his brother’s bemused countenance, Goten raised an eyebrow with curiosity. Turning in the direction Gohan was looking in, he understood what had captured the older man’s attention.
What was capturing nearly everyone’s attention.
Her.
At the top of the golden stairway, a beacon of light in blue. Donning a gorgeous fitted ball gown, the Saiyan Princess made her grand entrance quietly, but her aura spoke volumes. Decorated in aquamarine shades from head to toe, Bulla sparkled like a diamond unearthed from the ground. Priceless and precious.
Her dress included an off the shoulder sleeve and a one-shoulder sheer cape on the opposite side. It was certainly a gown fit for a princess. The ensemble contrasted with the royal red her family was sporting down below, but it seemed to result in only more eyeballs glued to her presence.
Though the commotion of the room was still in high gear, many stopped to take note.
None more so than Son Goten.
All sound faded. All thought left. All breath exhaled.
Noises ceased, lights dimmed, save for the ethereal glow that emanated off the porcelain skin of the princess. The material of her sheer blue dress had a sheen that glimmered as she made her way down the grand staircase into the ballroom. Illuminating her as if she was the only sight to witness in the room.
And to Goten, she was the only sight. The only thought. The only desire.
“B-Chan.”
He whispered this to himself but couldn’t even tell. Goten’s eardrums flooded with a strained heaviness that seemed to mute the music and conversations around him. An asteroid could have hurled itself towards Souljin and still, he’d be transfixed on Bulla as he burned in place.
His brother, ever observant, saw the star-struck gaze in the younger man’s eyes and couldn’t help the wry grin that formed on his lips.
“Something catch your eye?”
No answer.
“Goten?”
“Hmm?”
Gohan chuckled softly; his sibling hadn’t even taken his gaze off Bulla when he barely acknowledged him. He knew Goten had been keen on the heiress however, this was another level entirely. An all-consuming attraction that seemed only to burn more intensely as she descended.
“Something catch your eye?” the scholar asked again in a mild teasing tone.
Vacillating his attention between Gohan and the Saiyan Princess, Goten hastily gave a polite nod.
And once more, his focus was solely on the woman in blue.
The elder Son felt a fondness in his chest at his brother’s taken state. The prior evening, Gohan had unintentionally spied on a deep moment between Goten and Bulla. Though he had some natural reservations when it became first apparent there was a spark between the two, Gohan could see it plain as day on Goten’s face the affection he held for the princess. It caught the scholar by surprise how much restraint his younger sibling exuded, certainly something he never really practiced in his youth. Goten had always been a little more hedonistic yet, this side of him was new. If Bulla brought that out in him, then maybe Gohan’s initial concerns were misplaced.
“You know,” Gohan began, careful with the wording of his next statement. “It’s okay to admit Bulla looks lovely this evening, Goten.”
Goten drew a sharp breath in response, gaze still averted. “Yeah,” he agreed, to what he knew not, for he was completely enraptured elsewhere.
Another laugh passed Gohan’s lips. His brother was a goner; and for some reason, Gohan found himself more apt to the notion than he expected himself to be.
Across the way, Bulla scanned the room for a certain half-Saiyan in particular. Averting her father’s eyeline, whose glower of annoyance at her tardiness was evident, the princess continued to search the crowd, until two sets of familiar black hairstyles paused her search. She briefly locked eyes with the younger Son man and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest. The besotted expression on Goten’s face was everything she was hoping for. Her genuine smile couldn’t be wiped from her mouth even if she tried. With every intent to head in his direction, Bulla found herself surrounded at the bottom of the staircase by a bevy of soldiers vying for her attention.
“Princess Bulla, you look lovely!”
“Princess Bulla, do you need a drink? Let me fetch you something!”
“Princess Bulla,” a gloved hand extended in front of her, “will you do me the honor of a dance?”
The blue-haired heiress lifted her eyes to a handsome soldier she faintly recognized as General Taikan’s second-in-command, Lieutenant Nashi. Surrounded by multiple options, his request was certainly one way to remove herself from the small swarm she found herself in. With a polite smile, Bulla took Nashi’s hand and replied, “I’d be happy to.”
The frustration of the other soldiers was palpable as they each sighed and hmphed when Lieutenant Nashi led the Saiyan Princess away.
Goten felt a shift beneath his feet when he saw Lieutenant Nashi whisk Bulla out to the dance floor. He hadn’t even had a chance yet and already, the younger hybrid was being courted by several Souljin men. Gohan, still readily observing his brother’s movements, took note.
“What’s wrong?” he wondered, already surmising the answer.
Stirring in place, Goten attempted to appear unbothered. “Nothing, it’s just…” the younger man paused to collect his thoughts.
“What?”
“Bulla seems to be getting a lot of attention,” Goten said with a hint of regret.
While watching the Lieutenant dance with Bulla, the elder sibling glanced over and observed his brother’s disappointment. He gave a sympathetic smile. “Well,” Gohan started to say, “maybe you should do something about it little brother.”
Off guard by the change in demeanor from the prior evening regarding the subject, Goten cocked an eyebrow at his sibling. He sounded almost…encouraging.
“Huh?” Goten responded at a loss for words.
Remaining quiet, Gohan simply sipped his wine and nodded in Bulla’s direction. Goten was still a bit perplexed at the sudden support, but he wasn’t about to question it. Before he had the opportunity to act, the two were joined by a Trunks who somehow freed himself from the confines of the head table.
“There you are.”
Trunks approached the two Son men, still playing around with his armor, unaware of where Goten’s mind was. “These suits are stiff as hell,” Trunks muttered to Goten, all while fidgeting with the collar.
Goten didn’t register the annoyance as he kept his attention solely on the beauty in blue from afar. The unexpected advice his brother gave him floated in his head.
“Yeah,” he answered absentmindedly.
Without taking his eyes off of Bulla, Goten distractedly handed Trunks the remnants of his chalice, and started to head towards the center of the ballroom. A man on a mission. Gohan chuckled quietly to himself when he realized what Goten was doing. Trunks’ mouth dropped in confusion, looking at the half-empty cup and back up at Goten’s fading figure. He managed to hand off the glass to a passing attendant as he took a few steps closer to the other man.
“What’s with your brother tonight?” Trunks asked Gohan, hoping for some clarification. For a minute, the elder Son sibling broke his concentration on the dance floor and smiled at the younger hybrid.
“Who, Goten?”
“No, your other brother—of course I mean Goten!”
Gohan emitted a short laugh. “Easy, Trunks,” he soothed, “I couldn’t tell you. I think he’s just enjoying the ball.”
Trunks’ eyes narrowed as his concentration on Goten’s destination became all the more clear: his sister.
“You’ve got to be shitting me…”
…
The object of multiple subjects beckoning for her attention, one would think Bulla Briefs was living the dream.
As she danced with the Lieutenant on the floor, it was not unnoticed the amount of people staring in her direction. She had already been approached by numerous soldiers when she walked in, but it was clear other officials and guests alike were eyeing her too. She had been so concerned in garnering favor with Goten, it escaped her she may have amassed some approval from the Souljin men in attendance as well.
Not that any of them mattered. Bulla wasn’t here to break hearts, only to win one.
Bulla scanned the crowd, trying to relocate the Son brothers, all while attempting to appear not rude to her dance partner. Lieutenant Nashi was attractive and courteous, but she knew her heart lay somewhere else. She’d nod to give the illusion of paying attention, though if anyone were to quiz her, the heiress would fail miserably. Her eyes continued to traverse the room as they spun until they finally landed upon someone approaching them.
The look of delight said it all.
“May I cut in?”
Lieutenant Nashi turned to see who tapped him on the shoulder, since the princess in his arms seemed to be enraptured with whoever it was. Faintly recognizing the half-Saiyan, Nashi smiled. Given the expressions on both of their faces, the soldier knew he couldn’t have protested even if he wanted to.
“Certainly, Son Goten,” Lieutenant Nashi conceded.
Though her attention had been elsewhere, the heiress brought her focus back on the Souljin soldier. “Thank you for the dance, Lieutenant,” Bulla mentioned with a poised grace.
“A pleasure, Princess,” the lieutenant responded, bowing. Bulla appreciated the man’s well-behaved nature and were she not so eager to dance with her next partner, she may have entertained another dance with him.
As soon as Nashi released her hand, he gave a polite head nod to Goten and valiantly stepped aside. “She’s all yours,” he said kindly, heading away from the dance floor.
Yours.
The statement resonated with both of them as the two stared breathlessly at one another.
“Hi,” Bulla was the first to break the silence; a touch of nervousness and giddiness were both evident in her voice.
“Hi,” Goten returned, and though his own nerves were there, the reverent tone he spoke in held a commanding aura. His sable eyes drank in her form, the princess looking even more ethereal up close. “You look stunning,” he continued as earnestly as he could.
Bulla felt her face flushing uncontrollably at the compliment. The sweet manner in which he spoke, along with the taken stare, was everything she was hoping for with her ensemble. “So do you,” she said, eyeing just how handsome Goten looked in his Saiyan Regalia. He was like the gallant knight from the fairytales she devoured as a child. “That armor suits you,” Bulla added.
Another small wave of silence passed before the two chuckled at the quietness. Remembering where they were, Goten bowed with an almost practiced air. “Princess,” he spoke in a jokingly formal tone, “might I have the honor of this dance?”
With a confidence that Bulla didn’t know she possessed, she curtsied and replied, “Like he said, I’m all yours.”
In an instant, Bulla felt his strong hands pulling her to him, the grip firm but tender. A small smirk graced his lips. “All mine?” he teased. His grip tightened around her waist, while his free hand interlocked her fingers with his own. Bulla shivered at the contact. “Lucky me,” Goten breathed in her ear before the two began to sway to the music.
Bulla followed his lead, the dance floor blurring around them, leaving only the two in focus.
Goten feasted his eyes over her form; studying every detail of the intricate gown that took his breath away. The pale blue color only highlighted all of her already gorgeous attributes. He was always fond of the shade, but Bulla managed to make him love it even more. As they twirled about, all the guilt and worry he had felt leading up to that night seemed to temporarily evaporate.
Likewise, the Saiyan Princess couldn’t believe this was all happening.
It was better than a dream, Bulla thought, it was her actual reality. Every little childhood fantasy of her being in the arms of the one man she idolized beyond all others, beyond even her father…here he was, holding her like she was the only person to exist.
She meant it when she said how handsome he looked in that Saiyan Regalia. Something about it felt so right. His blue cape caught her attention and she smiled to herself; though a darker shade than her own blue outfit, she loved the fact that their hues matched. Different enough to not alert anyone otherwise, but enough for Bulla to know she made the right call on the dress.
His footwork impressed the heiress, as she matched him step for step. “Is dancing one of your hidden talents, Goten?” Bulla kidded with her partner.
Without answering her, Goten dipped the bluette, who let out a tiny squeak of surprise. A tad reminiscent of her father, Goten’s eyebrow raised with amusement. “One of many,” he said suavely, admiring her from above. Pulling Bulla back up to his chest, Goten continued to study the features of the woman with delight and no pretense of subtlety.
Her own eyebrow perked up in curiosity. “What’s that face for?” Bulla wondered.
“Just…enjoying the view.”
“It is a nice ballroom,” the other halfling commented, a touch unawares. Goten chuckled.
“No you, silly.”
“Me?”
Goten slowed their movements for a moment, his gaze unwavering. Bulla could almost hear pin drop in spite of the activity around them with how steeled his focus was. The second Son could only smile at her. He took a breath, absolutely confident in his response.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the room tonight, Bulla,” Goten confessed.
Her heart nearly stopped as he spoke. With a blush, the princess replied, “You’re just saying that because I’m your best friend’s little sister.”
Though lighthearted in tone, Bulla felt a pang of sadness as she uttered those words, trying to justify the other man’s outward affection. While she wanted nothing more than to live out her younger self’s daydream, the pragmatic side of her urged caution. The last thing she needed was to make something out of nothing. Even so, Goten’s firm hold and enraptured expression were enough to cause the heiress to hope.
“If anything,” Goten returned in a lower register, “I shouldn’t be saying that because you’re my best friend’s sister.”
The pinkness of her cheeks darkened into a crimson red, yet the grin on her face grew exponentially. Bulla leaned in further, enjoying their waltz and oblivious to the interested observers around her and Goten.
…
Gohan, satisfied with his younger brother’s sudden bout of courage, chuckled to himself. Quiet enough where most wouldn’t hear him, but loud enough where one demi-Saiyan took note.
“What?” Trunks asked, his arms folded as he watched his sister make googly eyes at his best friend.
Gohan turned to Trunks with a bemused expression. “It’s funny,” the older man replied.
Trunks mirrored his father’s famous look with one eyebrow raised. “What is?” the prince wondered.
With a big smile, Gohan leaned off of the wall. “I just can’t recall a time Goten has been so…” the scholar trailed off, searching for the right words. He was further distracted by the face of a pleading Piccolo, petitioning him to walk over to the opposite side of the room. Nodding in understanding, Gohan patted Trunks’ shoulder, heading in the other direction.
Incredulous, Trunks widened his arms. “So…?!” he said, trying to lead Gohan back to his original thought. As the other man faded, he laughed yet again and playfully answered back.
“Smitten,” Gohan finished.
Trunks stood there, mouth agape, immediately returning his attention to the dance floor. “Smitten?” he repeated to himself, noticing that Bulla was not the only one making googly eyes.
So was Goten; his best friend. His brother in all but blood. Looking every bit the word smitten, just as Gohan said.
He huffed in disbelief, almost marching himself towards the dance floor until a recognizable, dulcet tone goaded him in a different direction.
Marron’s bright laughter was indistinguishable, responding to something Pan had said next to her. Pan’s expression revealed some annoyance at whatever she had spoken earlier, which only seemed to make Marron chuckle harder.
Trunks loved it when she laughed.
The younger Saiyan Prince had his heart stuck in his throat observing her. She was radiance personified. Her golden locks stood out from the darker shades in the crowd, like a beacon calling him towards her. Though his brotherly instincts were kicking in, Trunks was intent on trying to enjoy the evening as best he could. He shifted directions and began his trek towards the blonde.
If that meant momentarily forgetting about whatever his sister and best friend were up to, then so be it.
-=-=-=-
The brothers were not the only family members observing the pair on the dance floor…
From the head table, Vegeta sloshed the Souljin wine around in his goblet with incessant force. His scowl was far more apparent than his son’s version, simmering in silence while watching Kakarot’s youngest whisk his daughter about the dance floor.
The nerve.
He considered himself fairly understanding about letting Goten continue his training with Bulla. Though Vegeta was disappointed at the lack of transparency by the two, the Saiyan Prince was not as unreasonable as many thought him to be. It was clear she was benefitting and Vegeta appreciated Goten’s candor when confronted about it, even if he was annoyed that he hadn’t been told prior.
Still, the proud prince assumed that the small olive branch he granted would deter anything else going on. Or, at the very least, result in more straightforwardness from the two. But, as his eyes followed the two, Vegeta could only stew.
“Tch,” he muttered under his breath.
With Bulma engaged in a conversation on his left side and King Engei making his rounds about the ballroom, there was no one nearby to notice the bulging vein on his forehead.
No one, he thought, until an all too familiar voice rang out.
“Oh hey, Vegeta!”
Vegeta winced as Goku patted his back, whose free hand was holding a rather large turkey leg. Clearly making his way back to his seat, he too witnessed the sight on the dance floor and stopped in his tracks to watch.
“Look at Goten and Bulla go out there!” Goku commented, taking a bite out of the turkey leg. As he chewed, he continued. “They almost kinda look like a couple, ya know?”
The glass in Vegeta’s hand almost snapped into a thousand pieces, angry heat racing to his face. Oblivious to the ire that the Saiyan Prince was exhibiting, Goku continued to happily eat his food, returning to his seat once more. It was at this time Bulma’s conversation had ended and she witnessed Vegeta’s internal rage bubbling up to the surface.
“Whoa, what’s got you worked up, hot stuff?” Bulma wondered, noting her husband’s reddened face. Too perturbed to answer, the prince scowled at the dance floor, pointing his finger at the display in front of them.
“Look,” was all he managed to croak out.
His wife’s painted lips pursed in curiosity, following his eyeline to Goten and Bulla dancing together. She smiled warmly when she realized what he was looking at.
“Isn’t that sweet?” Bulma stated. Vegeta snapped his head to her, aghast with horror.
“Sweet?!” he shouted back. “Pray tell, what is sweet about it?”
Her eyebrow perked up in confusion. “Goten taking time to dance with Bulla?” she commented quizzically. “Honey, what’s gotten into you?”
Vegeta scoffed in response. “Our daughter,” he began, “dancing with Kakarot’s brat.”
“Your point…?”
“It’s…it’s…”
At a loss, Vegeta couldn’t find the right words to articulate his sentiments. Bulma gazed again at the younger pair dancing away, her motherly pride swelling.
“You know, Vegeta,” she said, “I’d think you of all people would be delighted.”
Swiftly turning his head, Vegeta opened his mouth to reply. Before he could answer, Bulma continued speaking. Her hand gently grazed his thigh and Vegeta winced at the contact, still uptight. “Look at her smile,” Bulma murmured, leaning in, prompting him to return his concentration to the view before them. It couldn’t be denied how happy Bulla appeared to be.
She squeezed his knee. “Let her have a little fun,” his wife continued, “better with someone you know and like.”
“I do not like–”
“Goten?” Bulma finished his sentence for him. A melodic laugh escaped her mouth. “You mean your son’s best friend? The son of our friend? Someone who is basically your second son?” she asked. Another chuckle emitted from the scientist. “Sure, Vegeta, whatever you say.”
Vegeta growled. “Regardless,” he started to say, “doesn’t mean I have to like him parading about with Bulla.”
“It’s a ball, Vegeta–that’s what people do at balls. Wouldn’t kill you to lighten up.”
Sitting back further in his seat, Vegeta folded his arms, festering in silence. His woman could never understand the nuances; it was more than the brat’s pedigree. The thought certainly had crossed his mind before, that while someone of Saiyan blood would be a preferred match compared to another sort of weakling, there was the other side of the coin, too. Someone like that could protect her, sure, but they could also do far worse as well. Whether or not Goten would ever do such a thing remained to be seen, unlikely as it was.
Nevertheless, Vegeta could tolerate many things, save for lack of candor. Judging by the way Goten held his daughter so affectionately, there was much the hybrid hadn’t communicated with him. He wondered if he ever would.
As his eyes narrowed in on the younger man, he produced an unspoken warning.
I’m watching you, Third-Class.
-=-=-=-
Goten gulped as Vegeta’s intense stare finally locked onto his orbs, the Saiyan Prince not faltering in the slightest. It was a sobering moment amidst the dreamlike state the two had been in. He had been so enraptured in the dance, part of him forgot they were subject to the eyes of everyone in the room. Including Vegeta. Feeling some nervous laughter bubbling, Goten averted his concentration to the heiress in his arms.
“Everything okay?” Bulla wondered. Her calming presence soothed him and reignited his confidence. Goten managed to sneak out a sly grin.
“Don’t look now,” he began, “but your dad looks like he’s about to have conniption.”
Already sensing she’d turn her head in curiosity, Goten spun the woman around to give her a better view of the head table without making it obvious. Bulla briefly glanced at her father scowling, who in turn, tried to appear as if he wasn’t looking. Eyes rolled, Bulla shook her head. Returning her attention to Goten, she smiled warmly as she guided his arms to fasten just a little bit lower than before.
“Let him,” Bulla said confidently. She wasn’t going to let anything or anyone ruin this moment for her.
With his breath hitching at the more intimate contact around the small of her back, it took Goten a moment to register the bluette’s tiny act of defiance. Impressed with her tenacity, Goten let out another chuckle.
“As you wish, Princess,” he answered in a teasing tone. Holding her closer than ever, Goten was content in their own bubble. The wrath of the Saiyan Prince could wait a little longer.
…
From the sideline, another pair was paying attention to the closeness between the hybrids. One more supportive than the other.
“Nothing between them my ass,” Pan muttered under her breath. She huffed at the sight, feeling a bit out of the loop. “Yeah right,” the quarterling continued.
Marron could only laugh to herself at her friend’s comment. Without wanting to reveal any more details, she remained quiet, observing their other best friend look every part the princess that she was. In the arms of a handsome knight in shining Saiyan armor, as it were, who just so happened to be their friend and uncle, Marron thought.
Feeling every part the proud older pseudo-sister, Marron found it hard to stop smiling. Bulla deserved a magical night with someone she cared so deeply for.
Hadn’t every girlhood fantasy involved some sort of romantic evening like this?
Briefly glancing across the room, the blue-eyed blonde made eye contact with a certain lavender-haired prince. It was quick, however; his eyeline darted elsewhere after a couple of seconds, but Marron knew he had been looking in her direction. She felt the butterflies in her stomach multiplying.
“My, Majin Uub, are all Earthling men as divine as yourself?”
Pan scowled as her ears picked up an annoyingly high voice belonging to one of the several women surrounding Uub. For whatever reason, Uub seemed to be attracting as much attention as Bulla had when she entered the room. Pan didn’t dwell on it at first; it wasn’t as if the two had attended the ball together. Slowly but surely, she felt her insides twitch with aggravation.
“It’s just Uub, I don’t get it,” Pan muttered under her breath.
Her older friend offered an encouraging smile. “Uub’s a handsome guy, Pan,” she started to say, “plus, he’s so sweet. Can’t blame these women for finding him attractive.”
“Yeah, well they don’t have to be so obvious about it.”
“If I didn’t know any better, Pan…”
“YOU don’t know better, either!”
Rolling her eyes, Marron held her tongue, but still formed an amused expression at Pan’s apparent jealousy. Her eyes darted back to the ever-growing group of women honing in on the defenseless Uub.
“Say Majin Uub, will you dance with me?”
“No! I was going to ask him to dance.”
“I was here first!”
As the handful of Souljin women started arguing, Uub sank further into his seat. He shyly tried to decline their requests, but couldn’t seem to formulate the proper words. Marron heard the faintest growl next to her, and within an instant, the quarterling at her side vanished.
“Sorry ladies, he already has a dance partner,” Pan spoke as she dragged a confused Uub to his feet. “Play along,” she hissed under her breath, looping her arm in his as they proceeded to the center of the ballroom. Uub seemed both a little frightened and relieved at his rescue, and both Pan and he were red in the face with embarrassment as she fastened her arms around his neck.
The sight was a welcomed one to Marron, who knew that, despite any protests, the two were happy to be dancing together. She smiled as her azure orbs followed both pairs of friends on the ballroom floor. While the blonde was delighted to see the two would-be couples enjoying themselves, the slight gnawing of her insides showed a sort of longing for the same.
Even with the advances of the handsome Souljin Prince, there was something gratifying about finding companionship with a lifelong friend. She saw it plain as day with Bulla and her childhood crush, as well as Pan with Uub. Marron wondered if she would ever find the same.
“Marron–”
Whipping around to the familiar gravel-toned voice of her youth, the human smiled when she realized Trunks had finally made his way over to her. Trunks planned to say hi, but alas, that was the extent of his plan. Words escaped him as he hung his mouth open, soundless and uneasy. His friend formulated a drop of sweat out of concern.
“Trunks?” Marron posed inquisitively. His wide-gaped stare almost unsettled her, were it not so handsome. Trunks took in a deep breath.
“Wow, you look…”
Once again, he was rendered speechless. Marron’s eyebrow perked up.
“I look…?”
“Celestial.”
She didn’t mean to laugh at his candidness, but the blonde was certainly surprised by his vocabulary. “Hundred-dollar word for you, Your Highness,” Marron winked in jest, “you sure I don’t look silly?”
Trunks swallowed the air. “No, you look perfect.”
Heat jettisoned out from her cheeks at his earnestness. “Thank you,” Marron whispered quietly at the unexpected sincerity. She got a better look at his armor, enjoying how the spandex underneath clung to his muscles. Fresh memories of how they felt on top of her made her mouth dry. Her complexion only darkened at this.
“Oh, um, your armor…you wear it well,” the blonde responded, trying to pay back the compliment.
“Thanks,” he replied, rotating his stiff arm. “I feel ridiculous in it,” he confessed.
“I know the feeling,” Marron admitted. “We’re not our usual selves tonight, to say the least.”
Expecting her friend to make some sort of quip, Marron was surprised when, instead, he trailed his steeled gaze over her form. “You’re always pretty though,” Trunks replied, no bravado in his tone, just authenticity.
Marron played with the curls at the end of her flowing tresses. The same nervous habit she always had. Her heart thumped a million miles a minute, as she tried to make more small talk.
“Looks like everyone else is dancing,” Marron changed the subject.
“Yeah.”
“Looks fun.”
“Yeah.”
Marron’s head turned to Trunks once more as it became all too obvious he had been staring. She released her hair from her fingertips. “Trunks,” the blonde whispered, “you keep saying that.”
“Yeah…”
Silence befell them, until it clicked for Trunks what she was trying to get at, his distracted state waning. The time for action was upon them and he knew he’d regret it if he never asked.
Now or never, Trunks.
“Marron, would you like to–”
“Lady Marron!”
The two friends turned to see Prince Zasso, looking every part the royal prince that he was, approaching them. Trunks was keen to discern the twinkle in Marron’s eye with the other man’s arrival, and part of his gut sank with realization that she seemed elated at his appearance.
“Good evening, Zasso,” she responded cordially.
“Zasso,” Trunks greeted.
The Souljin Prince gave a polite nod of acknowledgement to Trunks before returning his attention to the woman between them. “How exquisite you look,” he complimented, as he took her hand to kiss it. The two smiled at one another, and for a moment, Marron nearly forgot the man at her other side, at least until he cleared his throat loud enough for both of them to notice. Still, the prince continued undeterred.
“You have the patience of a saint, Lady Marron,” Zasso praised, “I’m sorry that I’ve been unavailable until now. Mingling with the masses is rather exhausting.”
“You are fine!” Marron insisted. She turned to her side. “Trunks has been keeping me company,” she said, catching his attention.
Before he could respond, Zasso beamed at the man. “A true friend,” he commented. Pivoting his focus back to Marron, he extended his hand. “My lady,” Prince Zasso continued, “may we finally have this dance? I’ve been looking forward to it all evening.”
Marron was primed to grab his hand, until her gaze caught the pair of icy blue eyes beside her. “One moment, Zasso,” she started, holding up a solitary finger. The blonde smiled at her longtime companion, a bit wistful at the question he had attempted to pose minutes before.
“Did you have something you wanted to ask, Trunks?” Marron wondered. Part of her held out hope he’d make an effort before she committed to dancing with Zasso.
Looking at the two, Trunks knew Marron was eager to join the prince on the dance floor. Who was he to stand in the way?
“Nothing important,” he lied through his teeth.
Disbelieving her friend, she raised an eyebrow. “You sure?” Marron asked, giving him another chance.
As he eyed the blonde beauty up and down, a sort of princess in her own right, Trunks felt something shift. Though he didn’t want her in the arms of Zasso of all people, he wanted her to have an amazing evening. She deserved that much at least. Whatever brought a smile to her face, Trunks committed to ensuring that, even if that meant spending it with someone else. He struggled to say the full extent of his feelings, so he simply replied, “I’m sure.”
Prince Zasso nodded in appreciation and looped his arm around Marron’s own. “Shall we?”
Still unable to take her eyes off her lavender-haired companion, Marron wasn’t sure what to make of his answer. Especially given that Trunks had previously been so resentful of Zasso. She wondered if maybe he truly didn’t feel how she hoped he did. Maybe he was just being nice to her. Maybe it was just his stupid pride that caused him to act jealous before.
Maybe he just didn’t want her.
“Lady Marron?”
Her head turned to the handsome Souljin man, eagerly awaiting her confirmation. Marron gazed back at Trunks one last time; if he wasn’t wanting to pursue her, at least someone here at the ball did. The blonde hooked her arm around Zasso’s and beamed. “Yes, let’s dance,” she said, hiding any inner turmoil with a quick smile.
“Terrific.”
Satisfied, Prince Zasso led her to the dance floor, and Marron briefly looked back at her childhood friend, if not just to confirm her suspicions. His crestfallen countenance however, made her second guess.
Trunks kept his emotions at bay, yet the unsettling rumble in his chest only indicated he felt more deeply than he cared to admit. When he saw Marron and Zasso reach their destination, he drew in a sharp breath, and flipped his body to make a beeline towards the bar.
He needed a drink. A strong one.
-=-=-=-
Lost in their own little world, the two demi-Saiyans swayed together, locked in a quiet embrace. Goten inhaled her perfumed scent, the remnants of coconut still present underneath the more powerful jasmine aroma. The mix was intoxicating.
Bulla hung onto his neck with a little more firmness. “This feels nice,” she murmured.
A single digit traced her lower back, stroking with the utmost care. He didn’t have to say anything to know he was in agreement, yet he said so anyways.
“It does,” Goten whispered, causing her to smile.
With her back to the head table again, Bulla was curious if they were still being observed.
“Is my dad still freaking out?” Bulla chuckled, expecting to hear Goten’s own rich laughter, but the intensity of his charcoal orbs took her by surprise.
He leaned in, narrowing the gap between them. Those onyx eyes Bulla admired so ardently, they peered into her pools of blue with a sincerity that stalled her heart. By now, they were molded into each other’s frame, their dance becoming far more intimate than before. The hand around his neck stiffened, as did the other hand Bulla had on the back of his head.
“Goten?” she continued in a softer voice.
Clutching her tight, Goten answered back confident as ever. “I’m not looking at your dad anymore,” he confessed, staring her down.
Her stomach did a flip. “Oh?” was the only word she could muster out.
Goten shook his head. “Just you, Bulla,” the half-Saiyan whispered.
The resolve in his response left her breathless. “Oh…” she repeated, feeling weak in the knees.
Bulla saw his gaze dart further down her face, stopping at her lips. His own set parted, no more words coming out. As the music swelled, Goten twirled the heiress out and then pulled her back into him with a grip that would have been impossible to leave, yet still tender enough to convey the unspoken fondness between the two.
Not that Bulla would have left for anything at that moment.
Delicately, her fingers ventured further up into his hair, the bluette’s own grip impressively strong. Her chest pressed against his, allowing for no space between them, save for mere inches near their faces. Close enough to hear each other’s labored breaths of anticipation. Close enough to smell the mix of exotic perfume and borrowed cologne. Close enough to almost taste…
Half-lidded eyes soon shut as they inched towards one another, the intent clear.
Yet, their lips never met.
Right before the two Saiyan hybrids could connect, the music ceased to play, and applause roused them from their trance. With their surroundings becoming clearer once more, along with the reminder they were not alone, Goten and Bulla pulled back to observe each other. The disappointment palpable on their visages.
“B-Chan,” Goten inhaled with a sharp breath.
Unsure what to say, Bulla followed suit with his name. “Goten,” she trailed off. The quiet drumming of their thoughts muddled the sounds of the band beginning their next piece. Her thumb caressed the back of his head, hoping to recreate the magic moment that was lost unto them. He was almost tempted to lean in and take matters into his own hand when another voice finally broke the spell.
“Oh, Princess!”
The pair of demi-Saiyans focused on Princess Hinoki, approaching them with a warm smile. Sobered by the Princess-Consort’s appearance, Bulla loosened herself from Goten’s hold. As much as she would have preferred to remain attached, she didn’t want to make herself suspicious to the peeping eyes surrounding them.
“Hinoki, good to see you,” the turquoise-haired woman responded.
Hinoki gave a quick bow of her head, momentarily observing Goten with a smile, before returning her attention to Bulla. “I have a few council members eager to meet the rest of Prince Vegeta’s family…care to accompany me?” she said, already reaching to loop her arms despite a lack of answer.
“Oh uh, sure,” Bulla fumbled, caught off guard by her new friend’s assertive movement. She tilted her head back to see her dance partner frozen in place, trying to assess what just happened. Her heart tugged as she mouthed goodbye with a slight wave of thanks.
Confused by the Souljin Princess’ actions, Bulla refocused her attention. “Hinoki…?” she barely got out before the older woman curled her lips upwards. Sensing her disappointment, Hinoki kept her eyes forward, calm and in control.
“Is Son Goten still watching you leave?” the Princess-Consort asked without moving her head.
Widening her eyes, Bulla rotated herself to look back and see Goten in the same place he had been moments before, still fixated on her every movement even as she faded from view. Her chest warmed at his spellbound state.
“He is,” she replied.
The response seemed to please the other woman. Keeping her focus in front, Hinoki squeezed the heiress’ hand. “My dear,” she began, “always leave them wanting more.”
While Bulla hadn’t explicitly told Hinoki who she fancied, it was clear the Souljin Royal put the clues together. Bulla formulated a closed smile upon the realization that Hinoki was helping in her own way. She tore her head away from the dance floor, and looked ahead, squeezing Hinoki’s hand in thanks.
Though it took a minute, Goten blinked himself out of his reverie, whisking past the other dancers since he was now without a partner. Still a little dazed from the experience, the half-Saiyan almost walked into his brother.
“Whoa!” Gohan kidded. “You good?”
“I’m—”
He was something. Goten just didn’t know what.
-=-=-=-
Marron would look to the side sparingly in between her responses to Zasso as they whisked about the dance floor. Though she was genuinely enjoying her time with the handsome prince, the blonde remained a bit forlorn at how her exchange with Trunks ended.
“Everything alright, Lady Marron?”
Her head spun back to see the golden eyes of the prince observing her with great intent. In his formal armor, they stood out even more than usual. She did her best to brush off any discomfort.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, “a little distracted.”
Zasso chuckled. “I should be the sorry one,” he replied, “I normally am a much better conversationalist but I confess, around you, I seem to forget most words.”
Her ocean eyes grew big. There was an earnestness to his tone that gave her pause. “Zasso,” Marron said in a lower pitch, “I am flattered by the attention, but I’m confused.”
“Oh?” he wondered, as they sashayed between other couples on the floor.
“You’re royalty and I’m…” Marron trailed off, her humble beginnings never really bothered her, but ever since arriving to Planet Souljin, she felt the difference.
“You’re wonderful,” Zasso answered for her.
She was touched by the immediacy of his response. “You’re too kind to me,” Marron said, her eyes trailing downwards. A sigh graced her lips. “I’m sure there are plenty of Souljin women here who would be a bit more deserving of your time,” the Earthling stated.
The tips of his gloved fingers cupped her chin and brought her eyeline back up. “Marron,” Zasso commented, dropping the honorific. “You’re more deserving than you know,” he said kindly.
“Why?” she asked again, still disbelieving.
“There’s just something about you,” Zasso continued. The prince trailed his other hand over her waist. “The minute I saw you, I was drawn to you like a moth to a flame.”
“You’re not afraid of getting burned?” the blonde joked.
Zasso leaned in pressing his cheek against hers. “I’ll gladly burn for you,” he answered.
Marron shivered at his words, feeling rather like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Though it was hard to accept the prince’s interest, he clearly was genuine. Clinging to him a little more tightly than before, Marron continued to keep her cheek to his, allowing herself to enjoy the moment.
-=-=-=-
After a superabundance of fake smiles and forced laughter, Bulla managed to free herself from the circle of council members and wandered over to the food for the first time that evening. Even with her ample experience possessing a Saiyan stomach, she felt more hungry than she had in a long time. Every time she added food to her plate, Bulla would immediately start eating and the cycle would repeat. Normally, she would try to be a little more ladylike, but between her nerves, adrenaline, and appetite she didn’t care who saw her.
“Careful Blue, you’ll choke on a chicken bone.”
Mid-bite, Bulla spun around to see her best friend laughing at the inordinate display. Swallowing hard, the heiress dabbed a napkin on her lips. “Hey no judging,” she kidded back, “I’ve seen you do far worse.”
“True,” Pan acknowledged, “but never in a dress.”
The two women shared a laugh. Their mutual heritage was just one of the things that brought them closer together. It was nice to have someone understand the quirks that came with being of Saiyan descent. Finishing the last piece on her plate, Bulla’s eyes darted around to see if Uub had accompanied Pan off the dance floor.
“Where’d Uub go?” she asked as she swallowed.
Pan snorted. “Back into hiding no doubt,” she sneered, “those women were so annoying.”
A mischievous sparkle shone in Bulla’s blue irises. “If I didn’t know better, Pan…”
“Kami! Will everyone stop saying that?!”
“It just seemed as if you were jealous,” Bulla teased.
“Please,” Pan scoffed, “I was doing him a favor. Now you and Uncle Goten…”
Her face whitened. “What do you mean?” Bulla tried to play off casually.
“Don’t give me that, Blue,” Pan said, leaning in further. “We’ve been long overdue for this conversation. No time like the present.”
“I–I mean–”
“Bulla! Spill.”
“Pan…”
The two women turned to see Pan’s father approaching them. With a brief dip of his head towards Bulla, Gohan refocused his attention on his daughter. “Make sure Grandpa Goku doesn’t destroy the buffet, okay?” he instructed, their eyes now darting to the eldest Son heaping piles of food onto his plate at the next station over.
Pan gave a knowing look to Bulla, an indication they weren’t done just yet, but bowed to her father respectfully. “On it,” she promised, heading toward her grandfather. “Grandpa! That food’s for everyone!” the two remaining demi-Saiyans could hear from afar. Both chuckled as Pan faded from view.
Thankful for the save, Bulla offered a gracious nod. “Appreciate that,” she acknowledged. Gohan returned a nod of his own.
“You don’t owe anyone any explanations,” Gohan said encouragingly to the younger woman. A spark of interest flickered in his eyes soon after. “Although, I am curious if my brother was being a gentleman out there,” he continued.
Though a bit surprised by the question, evident by the flush of her cheeks, Bulla smiled. Reminiscing about her dance with Goten, she looked up at his brother, confident in her reply.
“Goten is the one guy I never have to worry about,” the heiress answered with sincerity.
The devotion in her tone seemed to please Gohan. He smiled at her. “I’m glad to hear it,” the scholar added. With a bit of a protective air about him, the older demi-Saiyan continued, “If he ever isn’t, though, you know where to find me.”
Bulla blinked at the response, almost a touch suspicious as to the reason. Though she didn’t think Gohan knew many details about her and Goten, part of her wondered what he did know. His words made him sound somewhat approving. That in itself piqued her interest.
Before she had the chance to press further, Bulla observed Gohan’s eyes darken as a tall figure shadowed her from behind, interrupting them.
“Princess Bulla,” a familiar voice rang.
She swirled around to see the statuesque frame of Prince Toge leering down at her; an expression that could easily be interpreted as predatory. Feigning interest, Bulla bowed with polite restraint. “Prince Toge,” the bluette said courteously. The younger half-Saiyan noted Gohan’s face, still soured in the presence of the Souljin Prince.
“You’ve been in high demand this evening,” Toge said pointedly.
Still trying to be agreeable, Bulla let out a practiced chuckle. “A little,” she admitted.
His tall stature leaned in further. “Might I be next in line?” Prince Toge asked, extending his hand for her to take.
With a quick glimpse at Gohan, whose expression hadn’t changed, Bulla found it an odd sight for someone who was normally so cordial. If he had any qualms, he certainly wasn’t vocalizing them, but his visage said much. She glanced across the room to see her father also glancing over with a similar look, yet this was far from out of the ordinary. Bulla could also see the king sitting next to him showing an approving smile in her direction. Not wanting to offend either King Engei or his son, she took Toge’s hand and presented a reserved smile.
“One dance,” Bulla agreed.
Toge shot a pleased smirk at the Son man, almost as if he sensed his disapproval, and planted a kiss on Bulla’s hand. “Lucky me,” the middle prince said, now staring deeply into Bulla’s blue eyes. Her heart sank at the familiar words, reminding her of what Goten had said exactly earlier that evening.
The Souljin Prince led his dance partner onto the floor, giving one last glance to the still simmering Gohan, feeling rather victorious. Bulla too, looked back to see Gohan’s eyes softening with concern as he remained silent, but disapproving nonetheless. As she was guided by Toge, Bulla searched the room for another particular set of eyes belonging to a certain half-Saiyan. The princess frowned in disappointment when she saw the sadness in his charcoal orbs, lamenting that she was likely the cause.
…
Feeling his stomach plummet watching Bulla being led away by Prince Toge, Goten frowned. There was no small amount of wondering what the Souljin had planned. Whatever it was, he knew it couldn’t be good.
Goten didn’t have a claim to the princess, but the moment they shared earlier gave him a false sense of security that maybe she wouldn’t have entertained any other suitors that evening. Maybe he had misread things?
Just as that thought crossed his mind, blue eyes honed in on him from the center of the ballroom. Soundlessly apologizing, Goten could tell that Bulla didn’t seem to be as enthused as perhaps she appeared. Her eyes couldn’t stay locked on him long, but it was enough to convey the dance wasn’t her idea nor her desire.
And that gave him hope.
“Another one.”
His ears burned with the voice of his best friend at the bar and judging by his misery, Trunks didn’t seem to be in the greatest of moods. With one more longing glance at the princess, Goten started to walk over to try and see what was distressing her brother.
Two shots came by as Trunks downed the first one before Goten joined him.
“You okay?” Goten asked his friend, who threw back the second shot.
Trunks, wiping his mouth with the back of his glove, eyed Goten with an air of suspicion. He hadn’t forgotten the earlier exchange between the man and his sister, but despite his unease, Trunks had more pressing things to worry about.
“Fucking princes,” Trunks muttered, gesturing to the bar for two more drinks. Upon receipt, he handed one to Goten. Knowing Trunks’ mood, the other demi-Saiyan took it without question. The two clinked their glasses and drank the potent spirits.
Goten observed Marron happily dancing in Prince Zasso’s arms. While he notoriously teased his two friends about their obvious attraction to one another, it was unlike Trunks to seem so affected by the woman. Perhaps the fact that Marron never really had a true petitioner vying for her romantic whims somehow gave the impression that Trunks didn’t have to take much action, if any. Seeing her laugh at whatever commentary Zasso was whispering into her ear, Goten knew that for the first time, his best friend had true competition.
“I’m sorry,” was all Goten could manage to say in support. Trunks threw back another drink before he responded.
“It’s whatever,” Trunks tried to play off. He maneuvered his body around to face the dance floor thinking he had already seen the worst of it. Soon enough, he unleashed another groan. “Fuck, now he’s dancing with Bulla?” the heir muttered, already signaling for an additional drink to be brought over. “Zasso’s annoying but that guy is a fucking prick,” Trunks added with disgust.
“Yeah,” Goten uttered in agreement, not taking his eyes off of Bulla and Toge. He didn’t dare say too much more than that.
If Goten’s ever-increasing ki was any indicator however, there was plenty left unsaid.
…
Once again, Vegeta was subject to watching his daughter in the arms of another man.
It wasn’t like he desired to control how she spent her time at the ball. She was an adult. She could make her own choices. She could dance with whoever she wanted to. Likewise, Vegeta could have his opinions.
And his current opinion was that the middle Souljin Prince was putting his hands where they didn’t belong…
Bulma had left to go mingle, leaving her husband to his own devices. Vegeta assumed he would seethe in silence this time around, but as the only two at the table, King Engei decided to engage him in conversation.
“Our children look good together, Prince Vegeta,” King Engei remarked, smiling as he watched Bulla and Toge dance.
“Hmm,” Vegeta didn’t give a full response, taking note of how firmly Toge pressed into his daughter’s sides.
Clearing his throat, Engei continued the conversation. “May I ask,” he began again, “is Princess Bulla promised to anyone?”
This caught Vegeta’s attention, prompting him to turn towards the king. “Promised?” he questioned, having a sinking feeling what Engei meant.
“Betrothed,” King Engei elaborated, eliciting a scoff from the Saiyan Prince.
“No,” Vegeta said curtly. His tone didn’t invite further discussion and yet, King Engei decided to press on.
“She’s a beautiful young woman,” the Souljin King complimented. He smiled when he peered out onto the dance floor once more. “I couldn’t help but think perhaps a union between her and one of my sons would be beneficial.”
The vein on Vegeta’s forehead returned, both in response to Engei’s suggestion and Toge’s continued exploration of Bulla’s figure. He turned sharply to the older man, his expression already saying a thousand words. “My daughter is not some political pawn to be used for alliances, Engei,” Vegeta lambasted.
Realizing he was misunderstood, King Engei put a hand up apologetically. “I meant no offense, Prince Vegeta,” he said sincerely. Clearing his throat, the king sought to explain himself. “Arranged marriages are commonplace here on Souljin,” he clarified, “I just thought…”
Vegeta grunted, his patience wearing thin. “Whatever you thought,” the prince retorted, “unthink it.”
“I just thought a princess of her caliber deserved to be with a prince, is all I meant, Prince Vegeta. Please forgive me.”
The darkened eyes of the Saiyan pureblood zoomed in on his daughter. His chest tightened as he observed her in all her glory. Vegeta was reminded of all the times she insisted on playing make believe as a child, to which the Saiyan Prince would begrudgingly oblige. She truly was a princess in more than name and blood, he thought. His entire life changed the moment she was born. Though he would do anything for his wife and son, Bulla was someone he’d kill for.
Seeing her blue gown glisten in the light, he thought of the lavish childhood party dresses and her insistence on him dancing with her. It was hard to refuse her then, and almost even harder to refuse her now. While Vegeta knew Bulla was no longer that little girl, it was as if stages of her youth flashed before him. The emotion in his gut was overwhelming, though Vegeta did his darndest to hide.
“Not even a prince is worthy of Bulla,” the Saiyan answered poignantly, the quiet love for his daughter evident in every syllable he spoke.
Touched by Vegeta’s candor, King Engei smiled. Watching his son twirl Bulla around, an amused thought came to mind. “If not a prince,” he posed to the other royal, “then who?”
Before Vegeta could respond, his attention shifted to the spiking energy coming from the other corner of the ballroom. As he scanned the room, he recognized the ki as Goten’s, noting the man next to his son at the bar. Though Goten’s outward manner was calm, he seemed rather fixed on the center of the dance floor. Vegeta followed his eyeline to see that the younger Saiyan was concentrated intently on Bulla and Toge.
Goten must have sensed someone was watching him, because he turned to face Vegeta across the room. The purebred noticed that, unlike before, Goten’s stare did not waver in the slightest. There was an undercurrent of unease both men could sense. With only a look, the two conveyed the same sentiment: protect Bulla.
While there was a brief understanding between them, Vegeta hadn’t completely forgotten his earlier annoyance with the halfling. His wife’s words echoed in his head regarding Goten being someone he liked. Like was a strong word. Tolerate was more apt. Still, if given the choice between only two men, Vegeta would take his chances with Kakarot’s brat any day.
The angel you know versus the devil you don’t.
-=-=-=-
“I’ll admit, I had presumed to see you in Saiyan red this evening, Princess Bulla. Part of why I chose an oxblood cape to match.”
His comment brought Bulla’s attention back to the tall figure in front of her. Her dance partner seemed practiced no doubt, but she felt out of sync with their movements. The black and gold regalia he sported did indeed have a red cape, and Bulla was ever the more thankful she changed outfits so they hadn’t coordinated.
“It didn’t feel right…the dress I mean…” she attempted to recover.
“It’s just as well,” he said, eyeing her body. “You are a vision in any color. Certainly, the belle of the ball, Princess,” Toge remarked as they swayed.
A weak smile returned while the heiress shook her head. “I wouldn’t say that,” she responded modestly.
“Nonsense,” Toge dismissed as he pulled her in. Whispering into her ear, Toge added, “All eyes have been on you this evening. Understandably so. Who wouldn’t want the chance to be with the Saiyan Princess?”
Bulla found it hard to welcome his clear attempts at flattery. She entertained it well enough earlier in the week, but her heart wasn’t in it. Truthfully, it never had been.
“I’m just your typical woman,” the princess continued.
Toge leaned over, his tail curling around her waist to bring her closer to him. “Nothing typical about you,” he murmured in her ear. Were he a different man, Bulla may have been susceptible to such charms, but whatever veneer Toge initially portrayed was coming undone by the seams. Bulla knew what sort of game he was trying to play with her, and thankfully, she had better sense than to try and play it.
The bluette made an attempt to lean back and create some space, but the grip both his arms and tail had her in was stronger than she anticipated. It unsettled her.
“Toge,” she started to say, but was interrupted.
“You’ve such a gorgeous figure, Princess,” Toge continued. While Bulla’s backside was hidden from the head table, the middle prince took advantage of absent eyes prying. His large hand snaked over her, firmly cupping her rear with a possessiveness that was unearned. “I’d give my left arm to see more of it.”
Immediately, Bulla’s eyes shot wide open. It was plain on her face the growing disgust, as she successfully managed to remove his fingers from her posterior.
“You’re being a bit too familiar, Toge,” she chided, struggling to mask the contempt in her timbre. The comment didn’t seem to deter him as much as amuse him.
“Oh?” he responded with a pleased scoff. “Here I thought we were becoming better acquainted,” Toge laughed, his tail still wrapped around her.
“Do all your ‘acquaintances’ have to deal with your hands on them?”
“Usually, there’s no objection.”
He spun her out and pulled in tight, seizing her in an even stronger hold. Bulla was aware that Toge was an anomaly compared to most Souljin men when it came to his strength, though part of her thought her Saiyan blood would give her an advantage. Clearly, Bulla had underestimated the man. Her heartbeat quickened its pace. The nerves and unease nipping her insides.
“Toge,” she said warningly.
The middle prince bent over and placed his lips to her ear. “If I’m too familiar,” he said darkly, “it’s only because I’m all too familiar with your type, Princess.”
There was a quiet rage brewing within, and the daughter of Vegeta was seconds away from boiling over. “And what type is that?” she asked, almost regretting it.
Boldly, Toge returned his hand to her rear, attempting to make a claim to it once more.
“The kind that has yet to be broken in,” he answered, unashamed at his vulgarity. “Believe me when I say I’m equipped for such an undertaking. You only have to ask.”
With the pretense of cordiality tossed out the window, Bulla fumed and found the strength to remove both his hands and tail from her person. It took a practiced amount of effort to not make a scene and ruin everyone’s evening, but Bulla did not want to give Toge the satisfaction of that. She was Bulla Briefs; she suffered no fools. Still, she made her feelings very clear at that moment.
“Thankfully Prince Toge,” Bulla uttered through clenched teeth, “you’ll never get that chance.”
Inside she was screaming, but Bulla retreated with a quiet dignity, making a beeline through the crowd to the balcony overlooking the water gardens. As she left, Toge’s taunting laughter haunted her steps.
…
Goten shifted from his spot as he watched Bulla exit onto the terrace. While he wasn’t sure exactly what happened, clearly something was amiss. Though she kept her composure, the spike in Bulla’s ki told him all he needed to know. He half-expected his friend to make a comment but Trunks had stopped watching the display, instead focusing on a fourth round of drinks. Even Vegeta had been dragged out from the head table by King Engei and was distracted from what occurred. With everyone else seemingly occupied, Goten was the only one to witness her leaving.
Intent on following her, the demi-Saiyan marched in her direction without question. He was nearly successful too, until his path was blocked by the very person Bulla seemed to be escaping.
Furrowed brows greeted Prince Toge who looked as cocky as ever with his arms crossed. “Those famous Saiyan temperaments,” he clucked.
The smirk on his face grew wider, clearly attempting to get a rise out of Goten. Yet, the hybrid seemed determined to not let the Souljin Prince rile him up as he once again tried to pass by. Just as before, Toge sidestepped to halt the halfling.
“It’s to be expected,” Toge continued, obviously not deterred by the lack of reaction. He gazed at Goten with a dark countenance. “An inexperienced woman such as herself would be overwhelmed by the touch of a real man for the first time,” he added.
Goten maintained his glare, still doing what he could to avoid engaging with the other man, but Toge was making it difficult. “I do wonder though,” Toge resumed, “if she tastes as good as she felt.”
Spinning around, Goten’s charcoal eyes intensified their glower. Toge had his fill of taunting the previous evening and the hybrid was in no mood for a repeat performance.
“Don’t talk about Bulla that way,” he commanded, sparing no venom in his voice.
“Have I touched a nerve, little Saiyan?”
“Say whatever about me, Toge. I can take it. But I won’t let you disrespect her.”
“What? As if you haven’t thought the same thing?” Prince Toge laughed. The middle prince merely scoffed with amusement. “Come now,” Toge sneered. “I think we’re past the point of denial, Son Goten. You’re more like me than you realize.”
“I’m nothing like you,” Goten responded contemptuously.
Trying to pass by for a third time, Goten felt his shoulder checked by the Souljin royal. “That’s where you’re mistaken,” Toge said in a low tone. “You want a taste of the princess just as badly,” he added, “there’s no hiding it. I can see it all over your face.”
“Look,” the hybrid snarled, “you’ve clearly had your fun. I’m in no mood to argue. Move or I’ll move you across the room.”
“Finally, a threat! I was beginning to think you were a defunct halfbreed.”
“Toge,” Goten growled, “let me pass.”
“You still haven’t answered.”
“I mean it. I’m not going to tell you again.”
“Fine,” the prince relented, adjusting his body. He jeered derisively, something clearly amusing to him crossing his thoughts. Goten started to dart past him. “It’s just as well,” Toge said. The vagueness was enough to pause the hybrid.
Bending in closer, Toge whispered, “You can stretch her out first with that third-class tool of yours.”
Something snapped inside at those words.
Goten could hardly control his fist rearing back to strike the prince, but the impeccable timing of his father passing by prevented such a scandal from occurring.
“Whoa! Hold up, Goten,” Goku said, grabbing his son’s wrist. The momentary inner storm quashed itself as soon as Goten heard his father’s voice soothe him. Heaving through his nostrils, the demi-Saiyan attempted to calm himself.
Goku shot a confused look at the younger man. “What’s gotten into you?” he wondered, gently releasing the wrist after a suitable amount of time.
The younger Saiyan’s glare could have pierced through the thickest of stone. Never taking his eyes off Toge, Goten responded, “Prince Toge made some inappropriate remarks.”
“About you?” Goku blinked, knowing that Goten was far from rash.
His son turned his focus from the Souljin Prince to him. “About Bulla,” Goten spat malevolently.
Suddenly, it hit Goku why Goten was upset. With his own face hardening from the typical cheerful demeanor, the eldest Son looked expectantly at Toge. “Is this true, Toge?” the pureblood wondered. His voice had grown more stern, equally protective.
“A misunderstanding,” Toge tried to placate with a wave of his hand. “I think perhaps my turn of phrase may have been taken the wrong way.”
“That’s bullsh–”
“Goten,” Goku put his hand on his shoulder to calm his son once more. Still keeping a serious face, the Saiyan returned his attention to Toge. “Whatever it was,” he began again, “I wouldn’t say it again, Prince Toge. Especially about a lady.”
Unfazed by the warning, Toge bowed almost mockingly. “You humble me, Son Goku,” the Souljin Commander said with faux candor. “Perhaps not all the Saiyans are prone to violent tendencies,” he added with a wink to Goten.
Before Goten could react, Toge left the two men, bidding them adieu. “Enjoy the rest of the ball,” he said with a menacing grin that only irked the half-Saiyan further.
Clenching his fist, Goten gritted his teeth. “It wasn’t a misunderstanding,” he tried to justify to his father, but Goku returned his hand to Goten’s shoulder.
“I know, Son,” the pureblood assured. “You don’t get worked up over nothing,” Goku continued.
There was some minor relief to be had with his father’s insight. Ashamed at his lack of control, the hybrid dipped his head. “Sorry I almost lost my temper there,” Goten apologized, “appreciate you deescalating things.”
Goku’s signature grin came back to his face. “Usually it’s Vegeta I’m calming down,” he said with a laugh. “Guess it’s a good thing he’s occupied,” he added, glancing across the room at his old friend being introduced to different officials.
Goten still seemed disappointed in his behavior, keeping his head low. Again, Goku placed a reassuring hand on him. “I’m glad you’re protective over your friends, Goten,” he praised, “let’s just try to not make a scene while we’re here. Okay?”
Nodding, his son agreed and patted the hand on his shoulder in thanks. “Understood,” Goten promised.
Goku relinquished his friendly grip, allowing Goten a bit of space. “Now that that’s settled,” he said changing the subject, “there’s plenty of dessert waiting to be eaten! Better get some before they run out!”
Taking off towards the buffet for perhaps the fifth time that evening, Goku left his son to his own devices. Goten couldn’t help but smile in amusement at the ability his father possessed to be so simultaneously carefree yet serious when it mattered most. It was something he deeply respected about the man. Goten did his best to emulate all the best parts of Goku, but it was a tough shadow to stand in. Still, he admired the man’s aptitude for knowing the right thing to say.
His eyes darted to his fist, still clenched and shaking. It had been eons since something set off Goten that significantly, and part of him wondered what sort of trouble he would have caused were it not for Goku’s intervention. The younger halfling sighed. He couldn’t be sure if it was just protectiveness that prompted him to respond in that manner or white hot anger, but it wasn’t normal for him, that much was certain.
Still, when he saw that twinge of pain on Bulla’s face as she had darted outside, it evidently was all the motivation he needed.
Realizing there were no further barriers in his path, Goten set out towards the balcony, intent on making sure Toge’s harsh words hadn’t soured Bulla’s night.
-=-=-=-
The two moons of Souljin were full and bright, a glorious backdrop to the splendor of the gardens.
Both Bulla and Goten were the only occupants on the balcony, not so unlike the night months before. With the noise of the ballroom becoming fainter as he walked the vast terrace overlooking the water gardens, Goten approached the edge until he was paused by the beauty before him.
It was a familiar image; the heiress leaning over a railing, admiring the moons overhead. Drenched in silver starlight and shadow, the sheer blue dress she wore only served to illuminate her further.
From behind, it was hard to deduce her expression, but Goten heard Bulla emit a faint sigh, indicating some evident frustration. Though he had merely observed the previous altercation from afar, underlying her proud demeanor was a marked despondence. Goten knew she was upset, carrying an untold burden that even he couldn’t begin to try to understand. It tore at him.
He never wanted her unhappy.
Striding with purpose, Goten made his way next to her at the railing, leaning over and looking up at the twin Souljin moons, making just enough noise to not startle her. As soon as she felt his presence, Bulla’s posture seemed more relaxed than before, a wave of peace washing over her.
The princess turned to her companion, whose eyes met hers with a reverence that warmed the inside of her bones.
“Hi,” Goten murmured, a callback to their earlier greeting on the dance floor. Bulla smiled softly.
“Hi,” she returned in a similar manner.
The quiet melody of the streams and nighttime fauna echoed in the distance, a soundtrack of tranquility that only served to set the mood. Bulla tucked a string of loose hair behind her ear, allowing a perfect view of her face. Goten’s breath hitched at the sight of her. It almost distracted him from his task at hand, but when her smile faded back to a straight, thin line he was reminded why he followed the heiress onto the terrace.
Goten leaned further over the railing and gazed down at the water gardens. “Toge is scum,” he said, sparing no contempt for the man.
The wryest chuckle escaped Bulla’s lips, amused by the accuracy of the statement.
“It’s funny,” she began, staring up at the twin moons. Goten turned to face her as she kept her cerulean eyes pointed towards the sky. “Even before you said anything, I just had a feeling about him,” Bulla continued. Another small scoff emanating out from her mouth. “Should’ve just refused the dance but didn’t want to be rude in front of the king,” she explained.
Bulla returned her attention to the man at her side. “Silly, I know,” she said with a mocking grin.
The ebony-haired halfling knew her self-effacing demeanor was a ruse. Her attempt at humor only belied the true discomfort underneath. While Goten understood the defense mechanism, it saddened him too. He faced the gardens once more, the serenity clashing with the inner turmoil he was sure Bulla was experiencing. Tilting downwards, Goten uttered softly.
“Always trust your intuition, Bulla,” the older man stated. Raising his eyes to meet hers, he offered a comforting smile. “It’ll never lead you astray,” Goten promised.
Feeling a familiar heat build in her belly, Bulla’s lips parted to reply, but was stalled by his genuine advice. Eventually, she managed to form her own grin. “Thanks Goten,” the heiress responded.
A pleased hum of silence came over them. The two resumed observing the magnificence of the water gardens. While Goten was distracted, Bulla inched over to be closer to him, his nostrils stinging with her perfume as they were elbow to elbow. She kept her focus straight but lowered her head gently to rest on his muscular arm. Breathing a sigh of relief, Bulla felt infinitely more at peace.
Looking down, Goten was surprised at the forwardness, but enjoyed the action nevertheless. His attention quickly concentrated on the moons above, pleading in silence for the same courage Bulla so evidently showed. The fluttering of his heartbeat sounded as loud as a drum in his head, but Bulla seemed unperturbed.
As he stepped back, Bulla lifted her head in surprise, worried she may have been too cavalier. All fear was quashed once Goten extended the same arm back towards her to take. His calming presence and handsome grin solidified this.
“Walk a bit with me?” he invited the bluette.
Absorbing the words, Bulla hesitated just for a moment until realization dawned on her. Just the two of them…strolling together in the moonlight…
How could she say no?
The Saiyan Princess smiled back and snaked both her arms around his. Bulla raised her turquoise eyes to the dark irises she adored so much. “Happy to,” she answered with confidence.
Emboldened by her certainty, Goten didn’t hold in his toothy grin, drawing her close as they meandered towards the stairway leading to the water gardens. Enjoying the sensation, Bulla tightened her grip on the brawny man. She felt so safe with Goten, so womanly. With him, it was easy to forget the night’s earlier events.
Bulla could smell the scent of his cologne and his usual musk mixed together, but another fragrance permeated the atmosphere. It was a scent that had become more familiar to the princess over the past few weeks during her shower time. The recognition caused her face to heat, as well as another part of her entirely. While hope hung in the nighttime air, Bulla knew all too well the other sensation that lingered there too—
Desire.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter ten…and THENNNNNN…
Hehe you’ll have to find out the next chapter!
Chapter 11: The second half of the ball finds Goten and Bulla alone in the water gardens with no one to distract them–no telling what could happen. We also check in with a few other characters back in the ballroom.
But thank you all for the support! It’s only going to heat up from here, but it’s still a slow burn so I’ll be easing you all in ;)
Chapter 12: Chapter 11: Two Moons
Summary:
Chapter 11: The second half of the ball finds Goten and Bulla alone in the water gardens with no one to distract them; no telling what could happen. We also check in with a few other characters back in the ballroom.
Notes:
Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ/GT; credit to Majin_Angel_Chan from DBU for the title of Planet Souljin and the character Kail, all other characters are my own.
Author’s Note: Thank you all for the wonderful feedback with the last chapter. It was so special to finally get to the scene that inspired this whole story, and I’m thrilled people enjoyed it. I apologize for the delay with this chapter; I’ve had a wild couple of months with some additional projects on my plate so thank you for your patience. Just a heads up, there will be some spicy themes starting in this chapter and will be more prominent from here on out.
Playlist Chapter Recommendations: Two Moons, Moon, Elysium in the Deep Blue. Wretched, all i see is blue
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 11: Two Moons
Footsteps, heartbeats…it was difficult to know which noise thumped in her head the loudest.
Bulla hung onto Goten’s arm for dear life as they started to peruse the water gardens. Though Bulla had glimpses of the greenery here and there, it was her first time officially strolling through. The flora and vegetal were different from what they were accustomed to on Earth, and yet, managed to still be breathtaking. Amidst a multitude of fountains and makeshift ponds were marbled structures, ranging from arches to gazebos, to the stalwart statues found also in the palace entrance. Ivy-coated columns dwarfed the two demi-Saiyans, with trees akin to cherry blossoms offering their fragrance as they passed. Lanterns lit the way, although with both full moons overhead, there was plenty of light to be had.
In the background, she could still hear the orchestra playing from the ballroom. Feeling content, Bulla hummed along as best she could, just trying to enjoy the moment. She tightened both arms further around Goten’s own, a pleased sigh escaping her lips. The tender noise prompted him to pull her closer, his own smile evident on his face.
Internally, Goten was the complete opposite of the cool and collected façade he demonstrated on the outside. His stomach plummeted multiple times as he attempted to figure out what to say, instead opting for prolonged silence between the two as they wandered. The moment felt so serene, the half-Saiyan didn’t want to risk ruining it with the wrong words.
Luckily, he didn’t have to worry for long as the gorgeous flower-covered pergolas diverted Bulla’s attention.
“Oh, look!” Bulla pointed excitedly, her one arm still locked around Goten’s arm. She turned to him and grinned before releasing her grip and heading towards the flowers.
Goten observed her flowy gown sparkling as she glided over. Seeing Bulla’s mood improved from earlier in the night made his heart soar. The way she looked at Souljin and the newness of their surroundings endeared him. There was an earnestness to her he always had appreciated, but was especially thankful for it this evening.
Diving in nose-first to a fragrant bouquet of purple flowers, Bulla tucked her hair behind her ears and hummed contentedly.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” she asked her companion. As a perfectly white smile spread across her face, the moonlight gave her an ethereal glow. Bulla’s radiance could be seen from miles away. Goten forgot to breathe for a moment as he admired her.
“You are,” he said without missing a beat.
Bulla blushed at his words. Realizing his mistake, Goten corrected himself. “I mean, they are…” he agreed softly.
Still awestruck by his charming compliment, Bulla shyly tucked another piece of hair behind her ears. Her aqua eyes deviated downwards, her grin broader than before. She cleared her throat as she resumed her strolling, Goten in tow behind her.
Catching her attention nearby were additional fountainheads that decorated the vast water gardens. Massive in size and complex in detail, Bulla marveled at their artistry. She and Pan had only seen a couple near the front during their night of overindulgence. The further they walked the gardens, the more intricate the fountains became. A slight simper formed when Bulla realized she was in a much better state of mind to explore than she had a few days prior.
Bunching part of her dress in her hand, the princess headed towards the fountain. Bulla stepped onto it with ease and balanced herself. With one foot in front of the other, she made her way onto the ledge. Seeing a glimpse of her stilettos poke through the dress slit, Goten’s eyes widened.
“Careful now,” he said, a slight hint of worry mixed with amusement in his voice. The older halfling remained near the Saiyan Princess’ side as she continued her balancing act, undaunted.
“Please,” Bulla replied with a snort. A few more steps and she tossed her hair over her shoulder to look back at him. Batting her eyelashes, a mischievous grin formed on the heiress’ face.
“I am the embodiment of grace,” Bulla finished.
As if on cue, her next step onto a small patch of water sent the princess into the air; her ki control slipping as fast as she was. Goten immediately sprang into action. Before the expected impact, Bulla looked up to see Goten’s smirking form staring down at her in his arms. He caught her in the nick of time.
“Grace and humility,” the older hybrid teased.
Bulla blushed at the contact, as well as a twinge of embarrassment at her hubris. The briefest chuckle emanated from the bluette’s closed mouth. She peered into the black irises facing her, feeling the severity of their gaze. Though the expression was more humored than anything, Bulla sensed a layered severity behind them that Goten seemed to keep at bay.
“Point taken,” Bulla responded, humbler than before.
She heard Goten’s own quiet laugh kept inside his throat whilst he lowered her to her feet. Still keeping her arms locked around his neck, Bulla pressed against his armor without breaking her stare. All the jitters in her belly gnawed like scratches trying to break the skin. When she hadn’t pulled away yet, Goten’s eyebrow raised.
“You okay, B-Chan? Need to sit?”
His head tossed to the side, acknowledging a nearby bench in the gardens that overlooked the ponds and castle grounds. Far enough away from the view of the ballroom terrace, but right under the stars and two moons. Bulla broke her eye contact with him as her attention turned to the bench in question. Rather lightheaded from it all, the heiress nodded in agreement.
Goten escorted her with his arm once more as the two made their way over to sit. While Bulla would have been fine to stand, the relief at being off her heels for the first time all night was evident. A large sigh rang out and Goten beamed as he took his seat.
“Much better,” he commented.
The bright blue of Bulla’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight. It was hard not to smile like a schoolgirl in the presence of Goten; his charm and affability was second to none. He kept a respectable space between them, not making any presumptions.
“So, Ten,” Bulla cocked her head in his direction, “where did you pick up those dance moves?”
Laughing, Goten put one arm behind his head. “Honestly? Couldn’t tell you,” he replied somewhat shyly, “a mix of my martial arts training and just observations over the years. Nothing special.”
Bulla’s throat reverberated with a pleased noise. “Modesty? From Son Goten?” she joked.
“Don’t act so surprised, Briefs.”
“I’m positively shocked!”
She dramatically draped her arm across her forehead and fell over to lie in his lap. Bulla laughed before she realized where her head was positioned. Goten was very well aware, and the look on his face appeared blank, not quite knowing how to react. Right then and there, Bulla thought she’d discombobulate from the embarrassment. However, combustion would not be on the agenda as Goten’s mouth slowly turned upwards into a gentle smile. Soon, a small chuckle followed.
“Comfy?” he wondered. When Bulla realized he was at ease, she returned a grin of her own while resting her eyes.
“Yes, consider yourself my royal pillow for the evening, Son Ten.”
Her cerulean orbs shot open when she felt his thumb brush against her forehead. Goten’s ebony eyes analyzed the contours of her cheeks, the faint flush that accompanied them, the smoothness of her skin. As he stroked her brow with care, it reminded him of a time gone by.
“You always used to make me do this,” Goten murmured, a fondness in his tone.
“Well, couldn’t expect Trunks to,” Bulla kidded, coaxing another chuckle out of Goten. She started to close her eyes as his caring touch put her at peace. Inhaling the fresh garden air, a contented wave of calm washed over the princess.
What more could she ask for?
-=-=-=-
“And then by Jove I told him–you don’t eat the damn thing, you wash with it! His mouth smelt of soap the rest of the day!”
As members of the Souljin Council burst into laughter at one of the king’s many jokes that evening, Vegeta could not hide the boredom on his face. King Engei had trotted him over for more introductions and the Saiyan Prince was at his social limit. Clearing his throat, Vegeta spoke, “Excuse me.”
He offered no further suggestions or explanations as he turned to head back to his seat. In the fading background, Vegeta heard King Engei complimenting him to the other councilmen even after his abrupt exit. Vegeta was naturally a suspicious person, but so far, the Souljin Monarch had been nothing but gracious to him and his family. The pureblood knew his own nature was brash and rough around the edges. Despite that, Engei exuded kindness beyond the likes of which he was used to. The Saiyan Prince would likely continue to keep his guard up, but in the deepest recesses of his gut, there was a small part of him that wondered if this is what it meant to be part of a family.
The majority of his youth had been spent in captivity, but the vague recollection from his time on Planet Vegeta had Vegeta curious about these Souljins. Now but a near-forgotten shadow, the Saiyan Queen passed when Vegeta was only a toddler. Though his memory of her was fuzzy, he seemed to recall that her personality was more like Engei’s own. She had her fiery moments too of course, natural for any Saiyan woman, but even as a young child, Vegeta noted how different she seemed. Affectionate almost, kind even.
Everyone knew Saiyans were far from affectionate and kind. His own father taught him early on to command respect and if it wasn’t given, to take it by force. Frieza only exacerbated this, making Vegeta the ruthless killer he was. The Saiyan Prince never had qualms about his past; what was done was done.
Even so, the beginning of this trip so far gave perspective into what could have been. Had his mother lived, would she have balanced out some of the darker parts of himself? If the Cold Force never partnered with the Saiyans, would this have been their demeanor instead? Or, was this simply the weak influence the Soulans had on them after years of mating? As he crossed the dance floor to return to the head table, Vegeta wondered if that had also happened to him, too.
Just as he approached his seat, he was intercepted by his wife, whose flushed face showed she had been enjoying her time at the ball.
“Vegeta,” Bulma said as she snaked her arms around his, “dance with me!”
“Tch,” the Saiyan Prince sneered. “No.”
“Don’t be such a sourpuss,” his wife scolded. She elbowed him gently. “You can’t sulk all evening and not have a bit of fun, Vegeta.”
“Watch me.”
"Vegeta," Bulma whistled through clenched teeth. “Consider I might want to have some fun. To perhaps, dance with my husband of all people.”
“Go dance then, woman,” Vegeta answered unenthused. “Just don’t expect to do so with me.”
Bulma’s death glare intensified, specks of fire almost visible within her blue orbs. Instead of responding with her usual yelling, she simmered in place for a moment, calculating her next move. Her eyes lit up when she spotted Goku passing by, no doubt heading back up towards the buffet. She glowered at Vegeta once more before resuming a cheerful face, running over to the other pureblood Saiyan.
“Goku!” Bulma cooed affectionately, wrapping her arms around her old friend, much to Vegeta’s annoyance.
Surprised by the sudden contact, Goku’s shock became jovial when he realized who it was. “Oh hey, Bulma!” he greeted with his Son grin.
“I’ve hardly seen you all evening, how are you?”
“Uh good…was gonna get some more food here…”
“Before you do,” Bulma retorted, “you wouldn’t mind dancing with a dear friend, would you?”
“Who, me?” Goku blinked in disbelief, his eyes darting to Vegeta scowling nearby. He wondered why he was being asked instead of him.
“Of course you, silly!” the genius giggled in her best flirty tone. Nothing else grated Vegeta’s nerves more than that. “Why wouldn’t I want to dance with the strongest guy at the ball? Besides, I feel bad Chi-Chi isn’t here to dance with you, so I figured we old buddies can dance together.”
Goku still looked unsure, but Bulma’s beaming smile was hard to refuse.
“Well, sure, I mean I’d be happy to if Vegeta doesn’t mind–”
“Oh, he doesn’t mind…” Bulma trailed off to stick her tongue out at her husband. “He said he wouldn’t be caught dead dancing, so it’s just you and me pal!”
“I never said– ”
Vegeta didn’t have a chance to finish. Bulma promptly escorted Goku towards the dance floor as Vegeta fumed where he stood. Placing her hands at the back of Goku’s neck, she smiled as if there wasn’t a care in the world. Happy to help, her friend returned the same grin. Goku placed his own hands around Bulma when they were starkly interrupted.
“Find your own wife to dance with, Kakarot!” Vegeta snapped.
Pushing him to the side, the Saiyan Prince whisked his mate away. Confused, but undeterred, Goku shrugged. He resumed his initial goal of partaking from the decadent buffet for what might have been the seventh time that evening.
Stunned at how quickly her plan seemed to work, Bulma knew some things never changed. She smirked in victory.
“Glad to know your little rivalry with Goku is still the best motivation to get you moving,” Bulma teased as she swayed in her husband’s arms. The wordless grunt he uttered only goaded her further. “Although,” Bulma began again, “I bet Goku would’ve complimented my dress by now at least. Unlike some people.”
Though she knew Vegeta would likely have a reaction to her comment, Bulma wasn’t expecting the grip around her waist to get as firm as it did. His piercing ebony orbs seemed to stare straight into her soul.
“Bulma…”
Her husband’s deep voice saying her name with such regard astonished the genius. She was far too used to him scoffing or calling her woman, despite their strong connection. Even after all these years, he could surprise her still.
“Vegeta?” Bulma answered, unsure.
The Saiyan Prince leaned into her ear, sending a shiver up Bulma’s spine. “Why would I compliment that dress when the first thing I’m going to do after this is rip it off of you?” Vegeta murmured with confidence.
Matching her gown, Bulma’s cheeks reddened furiously. “Vegeta…” she repeated his name, flustered at his forwardness. The brilliant scientist cleared her throat and tapped his shoulder. “You should still tell me I looked good in it,” she chastised, her timbre returning to normal.
Vegeta unveiled his signature smirk, pulling Bulma to him in a tight embrace. “You look ravishing,” he purred, warming her with his hot breath on her neck. His smirk grew more devious; reminiscent of the dangerous young prince she saw all those years ago on Namek. “You’ll look even better, however, wearing nothing at all,” Vegeta continued darkly.
The faint sigh of delight that passed Bulma’s lips was enough to make the prince’s pride swell. That sort of reaction was just for him.
Kakarot could never.
…
“More.”
Trunks shook his empty glass at the server tending the bar. Though it took a lot to get a demi-Saiyan inebriated, the potent Souljin wine was certainly helping.
His gloved hand swiped down his face, feeling a throbbing in his head that seemed to only improve once he was drinking. Behind him, the reverberation of familiar laughter stung his ears. Marron’s single dance with Prince Zasso transformed into multiple ones and by the sound of it, she was enjoying herself.
The minute the bartender refilled his chalice, Trunks drank it like a shot.
“Should I have the staff fetch more grapes from the vineyard, Prince Trunks?” a voice wondered from behind. “May take some time for the wine to ferment, but at the rate you’re going, we might as well get a head start.”
Trunks knew the tone and let out an annoyed scoff. “Quite the comedian, Prince Kusa,” he said with absolute sarcasm. The Crown Prince appeared at his side, dressed ornately in green and blue regalia of his own, while eyeing the other prince up and down.
“Do you intend to imbibe yourself all evening?”
“The hell does that mean?”
Kusa looked pensive for a moment. “Oh, what’s the vernacular, getting wasteful is it?”
Trunks kept his mouth shut but let out a solitary chuckle behind closed lips. “Wasted,” he corrected.
“Whatever it is,” the Crown Prince resumed, “seems to be a poor use of your time.”
Taking another sip of his drink, Trunks turned to face the older Souljin. “Not sure what concern that is of yours, Your Highness,” the demi-Saiyan said rather indignantly.
Kusa scoffed. “My concern is for the ground of the barracks during our training tomorrow; I would hate to see it littered with whatever liquid you consume tonight.”
The lavender-haired man sneered. He took yet another sip, more forcefully this time. Letting out a satisfied noise upon completion, he gestured for the attendant to refill him once again. Trunks turned to Kusa, not even attempting to hide his annoyance. “Wouldn’t want to defile the sacred Souljin landscape with my inferior stomach contents,” he responded in a mocking tone. Trunks snorted. “Spare me, Prince Kusa.”
Prince Kusa remained undaunted by Trunks’ obvious attempt to aggravate him. “Why are you sequestered here by yourself, Prince Trunks? Really.”
Trunks focused solely on the now empty glass in front of him. The last thing he wanted was to be vulnerable at that moment. His lack of response prompted Kusa to frown.
“Here I thought you and I had an understanding,” the Souljin Heir said flatly. “Am I to assume you no longer wish to train?”
When his fresh drink came, Trunks chugged it and wiped his mouth. He stared at Kusa, his icy blue eyes piercing through the prince’s emerald gaze.
“Won't do me any good,” Trunks replied. A momentary glance towards the dance floor only seemed to upset him more. He turned back, but the Souljin Prince noted where his eyes had been. Prince Kusa watched his younger brother and the pretty blonde Earthling dancing, and out of the corner of his eye, saw the flash of pain on the half-Saiyan’s face. He put two and two together.
“If I may be so bold, Prince Trunks…”
“May? You already fucking are. Just say it.”
Not a fan of the coarser language, the prince twitched his nose, but ventured on. “If your intentions are to do this for anyone other than yourself,” Kusa continued, “don’t bother. You’ll only be disappointed in the end.”
“Whoop dee fucking do.”
A long pause of silence went by. Trunks regretted taking out his frustration on the prince, but he refrained from admitting this to him. After a period of quiet, the Souljin man spoke.
“So be it,” Prince Kusa said, turning to leave. There was a hint of disappointment in his voice that Trunks caught. Still, the younger Saiyan Prince remained focused on the glass in front of him. His ears perked up, however, when the Souljin Heir had one more thing to say. “Perhaps my initial impression of you was correct,” Kusa continued, “and maybe the phrase wasted is quite apt.”
Trunks swung around to respond, but the older royal was already walking away. Angrily, he finished the drink and was about to order another, but as he held the empty glass, he caught the reflection of Prince Kusa. The look on his face signified a rare break in protocol; the Souljin Heir appeared disheartened. It was only for a millisecond, but enough to resonate with Trunks.
“Sir?”
His attention pivoted to the bartender, standing at the ready with a fresh carafe of wine. Trunks contemplated before he put his hand up.
“...water, for now.”
-=-=-=-
Bulla’s eyes opened as she heard the indistinct music get more lively across the way. She had only rested for a moment, but didn’t want to waste her alone time with Goten sleeping of all things. Catching her attention was Goten’s mesmerized focus on the sky. He was still stroking the crown of blue atop her head, but his concentration was on the lunar divinities above them.
“Wild to see two moons,” Goten said, finally breaking the silence.
Bulla sat up to return her legs back over the bench, clinging to the seat’s edge while gazing overhead. “Hinoki was telling me an interesting story about them,” she said reflectively.
Goten perked up an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?” he questioned.
“Yeah,” Bulla returned as she smiled brightly. “She said the legend originated when this planet was still Soula. According to the Soulan people, the two moons represent two deities, Raimu and Runa. Apparently, they were lovers.”
She emphasized the last word in a sultry tone for humor’s sake, doing a little shimmy with her shoulders. Goten lightly chuckled at the heiress’ efforts. “Lovers, huh?” he retorted back. There was a hint of mischief in his pitch.
“Yes,” the bluette giggled, ceasing her movements. Once composed, Bulla cleared her throat to continue. “Evidently, the two were separated by fate, and forced to remain in the sky apart. Raimu’s on the left and trails behind Runa. Though separated, they made a vow to always find a way back to one another.”
The elder halfling listened with rapt attention as Bulla explained further.
“Throughout the year, Raimu waits patiently for the chance to be reunited with his love,” Bulla added, speaking as though she had known the story since childhood. “The window of opportunity only happens during a lunar eclipse, where the two moons come together to form a beautiful, singular super moon.”
His expression flowered. “So the whole year they don’t connect any other time?” Goten asked.
“No, that’s the only time. Hinoki said it’s a big festival apparently when that happens!”
Bulla sighed with breathless wonder. “I bet it’s a beautiful sight to see,” she whispered.
Still captivated by the moons, Bulla didn’t realize the potency of Goten’s stare, but his penetrative gaze veiled a maelstrom of emotion below the surface. When she turned, Goten broke his concentration and looked at the lunar figures with veneration.
“The story’s bittersweet,” he stated, a pang of remorse for the mythical deities in question.
“Maybe,” Bulla conceded, “but I find it hopeful and romantic, too.”
The quiet, tickled agreement in Goten’s throat filtered through the night air. To be that youthful and optimistic, it was something to be envied. The Saiyan hybrid didn’t consider himself a very jaded individual by any means, yet, he had enough minor heartbreak to know life wasn’t always fair. Especially in matters of the heart. Here Bulla was though, bright-eyed and sanguine, her auspicious attitude putting the older halfling to shame.
How brave, how fearless.
As his focus was once more towards the two moons above, Goten’s mind wandered to the night of Bulla’s birthday, as it often had these last few months. The blue tint, the breathtaking size, the reflection of it in Bulla’s eyes after he kissed her.
These were frequent thoughts he kept quiet in his head, and had done so for some time. And yet, Goten didn’t want to stay quiet. Not anymore. Not tonight.
He wanted her to know.
“They remind me of that moon the night of your birthday,” Goten vocalized softly.
After the words registered, the princess expressed a look of surprise at his candor. Quiet chirps of crickets permeated the air when there was no immediate response. Bulla stood up, her long, slender arms draping behind her as she walked over towards one of the marbled gazebos, admiring their arches. Goten slowly joined her, waiting with bated breath for her to say something.
“B-Chan?”
“We haven’t talked about what happened on my birthday,” Bulla said, shyly glancing at the ground for a moment. Her lapis eyes shimmered in the light of the full moons when she reunited their gazes. “I wasn’t sure if we ever would,” the heiress continued.
There, she thought, it was finally addressed.
Faint music from the ballroom echoed throughout the gardens, providing a heartwarming score as the backdrop for the conversation. With the latest swell from the strings, Goten used their heartfelt melody as a conduit.
“Truth is,” Goten began again, “not a day goes by that I don’t think about that night.”
Her heart continued to pulsate in her chest with great intensity as Goten shared that revelation. “What do you think about?” Bulla questioned, choosing her words carefully.
Goten held a quiet chuckle within the confines of his throat, but its light reverberation set Bulla’s insides aflutter.
“How you snuck up on me,” he said softly, but this confused Bulla.
“I believe it was the other way around, bud—”
“Not like that.”
The gentleness of his tone surprised the Saiyan Princess. How measured and controlled his timbre, how unrelenting his gaze. “There you were. Illuminated by the bluest moon I ever saw, no longer the little princess that used to follow Trunks and myself around like a shadow,” the demi-Saiyan spoke.
Flecks of sincerity in eyes shone through. Bulla took a breath as she hung onto his every word.
“I saw you in a new light,” Goten confessed, a composed but warm smile on his face. “It hit me like a ton of bricks and honestly, I haven’t been the same.”
“Goten…”
“I’ve told you I see you, Bulla, but what I see more than anything is your spirit. Your light. It’s blinding sometimes and I—”
I don’t feel worthy of it, his thoughts screamed. He trailed off. Another confession for another time.
Bulla appeared stunned by his earnest comments. Her eyes glossed over with emotion while observing the handsome man next to her.
“Goten,” she felt herself leaning in further. Emboldened by the two moons, as well as his outward affection that evening, Bulla refused to let another missed moment pass her by. “In this light,” she spoke, “what do you see?”
Without realizing they were pressed up so closely, Goten fastened his arms around her sylphlike frame, dipping beneath the small of her back. He stared at her luminosity, aided by Raimu and Runa above, as the gorgeous surroundings before them faded to nothingness. Left in its wake, there was only one thing he noticed. One person.
How unrelentingly beautiful and special was she; and how undeserving but fortunate was he to be with her like this. Like he shouldn’t be, but was by the grace of every Kai in the universe. The way Bulla looked at him, it set his gut ablaze with boldness. He had to tell her the truth.
There was nothing but her to him.
“In this light,” he nearly whispered, “all I see is blue.”
The slightest hint of confusion graced Bulla’s face as Goten uttered that phrase from before, but she didn’t have time to interpret the meaning.
In a flash, he pressed his mouth to hers, savoring once again the sweetest flavor ever to grace his lips; the elusive taste he had been craving for months. After denying himself the opportunity time and time again, there was no way Goten was leaving this to chance.
He needed her.
In rapid response, Bulla threw her arms around the neck of the man attached to her mouth. That feeling of elation bubbling inside like a ticking time bomb, threatening to boil over at any second. She secured herself to him with no intention of letting go. Goten’s hands found their way around her waist and at the back of her head. There was a silent desperation they both understood, and both accepted without question.
Goten couldn’t hold back from deepening the kiss as soon as he heard the faintest whimper on Bulla’s end. Still mindful to not lose himself, he made sure to slow his roaming hands amidst their journey over her lithe form. Bulla sensed his tongue seeking hers, and though a bit newer of a sensation, she welcomed any chance to be closer to him.
Their breaths, hot and frantic, escalated during their ceaseless kissing. Bulla was convinced she was going to melt into Goten’s sturdy frame and she longed for nothing more. She continued to lean into his experienced touch, trying to learn from him as best she could.
The older demi-Saiyan took pleasure in navigating the somewhat foreign territory of her mouth. Hints of recollection hit his mind, the sweet citrus he was convinced would only linger in memory. Desperate to memorize Bulla’s signature flavor, Goten dove in deeper, every ounce of pent up desire burning through.
Suddenly, Bulla felt herself lifted from the ground with minimal effort. Her belly coiled at the gesture. The strong Saiyan grip she was encased in made her feel dainty and desired. Up against the garden wall, Bulla let out a quiet moan when Goten’s gloved hand dipped beneath the slit of her dress. Her bare leg poking through revealed more of her creamy skin to him. Bulla clung tighter while their kisses intensified, relishing every touch and caress.
Returning a soft groan of his own into the heiress’ mouth, Goten trailed his hand up further. Passing the underside of her thigh, he cupped her rear, and Bulla cooed at the intimate contact. It was so different from how Toge had grabbed her—whereas Toge had been forceful, there was still a tentativeness to Goten’s touch. Bulla reached her left hand down to place on top of his own as encouragement. He pulled back to observe her for a moment, the heiress’ eyes hypnotic with heavy desire.
Looking at him in that way was almost dangerous.
He moved his lips to the side of her neck, prompting more sounds of enjoyment from the princess. She pulled him in as close as she could, heat swirling about from her flushing cheeks to her core. Her body responded quicker than her mind could register, bucking against Goten, an aching urge for him to press further.
Goten suckled the patch of skin before him, trying his hardest to avoid biting and leaving evidence of where his mouth had been. He could hardly help himself though. She tasted so good. Every part of her satiated an innate craving he had. Her lips, her tongue, her skin…all of it was a maddening triage of delight.
Kissing his way upwards, Goten planted his lips to hers once more and reunited their tongues in a frenzied display. Bulla didn’t have time to worry about whether she was returning the kiss properly or if she was using too little or too much tongue. The urgency in which Goten petitioned her overtook any doubts she may have had. She tangled her fingers at the back of his head, gripping his ebony locks as firmly as possible. Once again, her form undulated beneath the older man. Goten’s hand ventured underneath the near non-existent fabric of her panties, the sole item preventing him from feeling the skin of her rear being his glove.
Yet another groan escaped Goten’s throat, an unbearable tightness stirring within his groin. It was only made worse when his nostrils caught the faint scent of feminine want.
“Bulla,” he croaked out hoarsely. So desperate and needy, it surprised even him.
The princess huffed breathy pants. “Goten,” she crooned, cradling his cheeks in her hands. Their locked eyes conveyed every little shred of yearning. Needing to taste her again, Goten rejoined their mouths as Bulla gyrated further into his frame. Firmly squeezing her behind, Goten moaned against Bulla’s soft lips, eliciting a mewl of her own.
“Oh!”
Bulla squealed when she felt the bottom half of his armor press up to her. The spandex did little to conceal his excitement and the feel of him only made Bulla want more. It was clear he felt the same.
The Son man enmeshed their bodies as close as he could. His head was spinning like a carousel at maximum speed. A long exhale vanished from his mouth, evaporating into the night.
It was blurring: the line between sweetness and sustenance. The truth he had been burying for so long…Goten craved more than just stolen kisses with Bulla.
He wanted to be on his knees in front of her, worshiping her with his tongue, fingers, and every other tool at his disposal. A princess like her deserved nothing less. To feel her quiver against his mouth and reward him with whatever intoxicating aroma wafted in the air. To taste the forbidden fruit, as it were, knowing how special she was. How untouched and ripe.
Goten grunted with frustration, throwing his head to the side. Untouched? Why was he thinking of her like that? She wasn’t a piece of meat. He felt like Toge ogling her. Like all those lecherous men she dealt with over the years who saw Bulla and wanted one thing.
But he didn’t want just one thing; he wanted everything. All of her. In every way.
The older man tried to shake the inappropriate thoughts from his head as best he could. Goten attempted to envision the purest visions possible. Her laugh, her jokes—anything to remind him of chaste moments.
Still, like a wolf bewitched by the moons above, he felt a stirring inside to feel her, taste her, enter her…
Stop!
It was of little use to try to reason with his licentious side. It was a losing battle.
Stop that!
Despite Goten’s cerebral protests, the beast inside snarled. He would not be denied. He merely wanted what she offered so freely.
His fingers trailed from Bulla’s rear back to her leg, dipping inwards. The warmth of her inner thigh heated more than just his hand. Pressing into her, a low growl emerged from his lips. The light blue eyes of the princess shot open to observe the animalistic demeanor of her companion. Her fair cheeks were already pink from their amorous contact, however, the realization of how close he was to her core only caused the shade to darken. There was a hesitation to his movements, and Bulla could feel herself only getting more turned on by the anticipation.
Droplets of sweat began to form on both their brows. Did he dare? Did he dare to touch the princess so intimately here in the exposed gardens?
For a second, Bulla was convinced he would and nodded quietly to indicate she was fine with it. All she saw in return was tempered obsidian burning a hole straight through her. His hand did not inch any further, remaining firmly planted on her inner thigh. She rolled herself in hopes it would inspire some additional contact, however, this was not to be. The hardness of his features began to soften, returning to his usual state. It hit Bulla then and there that the little voice of reason Goten struggled with was likely reasoning with him again.
And while logically she understood, her body could not.
“Goten?” Bulla questioned meekly. Her blue eyes were so full of concern and expectation. She stared Goten down as he huffed before her.
“We should…” Goten barely could speak, ragged breaths overtaking. “We should probably…head back.”
The halfling lowered the heiress to her feet but kept her encased in firm grip as she regained feeling in her legs again. Bulla looked blankly at him, her own lack of breath apparent. Goten took the same hand that had been so close to exploring more of her and held her face in his hands. He couldn’t help but watch every little detail, every little movement. For her sake, and for his, Goten tried his best to regain authority over himself.
“Should we?” Bulla managed to whisper.
Kami, she’d be the death of him.
Goten nodded quietly, his thumb grazing her cheek. “You’re the type of woman they’d notice missing for too long,” he said, a self-deprecating smile starting to form. “Can’t keep you all to myself,” the older man teased. He tried to make his tone nonchalant, but there was a bitter acceptance to his words.
Bulla touched his lower lip, a woman transfixed. “You could,” she murmured.
Charcoal eyes followed her movements. “B-Chan,” he uttered. “I—”
The rustling of bushes nearby broke their concentration. In the not so far off distance, a mixture of footsteps and voices indicated more people were exploring the water gardens. Bulla sighed; so much for that. The moment was gone.
“Here,” Goten extended his arm to her again. He nudged it in hopes she’d take it sans protest.
Without much to back her up, Bulla resigned to the end of her revelry with the handsome Son Goten in the gardens. She looped her hands around his arm once more; appreciating every taut muscle and remembering his heady scent. Even Cinderella had to be back before midnight, she relented. Though, as they began their trek back to the palace, Bulla found herself wishing she could extend her lived-in fairytale; if only for just a few moments more.
-=-=-=-
“It was an honor to dance with you, Lady Marron,” Prince Zasso said as he escorted her to the dance floor’s edge. He bent over, kissing her hand in appreciation. “Thank you for indulging my request for several more after the fact.”
Marron blushed as the handsome prince’s lips made contact with her. “You’re a wonderful dance partner,” she praised, her face inflaming further at the rakish smirk Zasso shared.
As he rose to his feet, he kept his hand in hers and gave a gentle squeeze. “I don’t want to leave your side so soon,” the youngest Souljin Prince continued, “but alas, duty calls.”
The blonde was taken by his charm, but knew to claim any more of the ambassador’s time would have been selfish.
“I understand,” Marron nodded.
Zasso leaned into her ear to whisper, “I…forgive me for being so brazen, but I want to see you again, Marron. As soon as possible.”
A small gasp left her lips. He was certainly being more flirtatious than anticipated. She didn’t mind the forwardness, however. “Tomorrow, I’ll be shopping in the bazaar with Bulla and Pan,” Marron began, “perhaps afterwards?”
The Souljin Prince stared into her eyes, his golden hues sharpened. “I should like that very much,” he confessed.
Marron’s countenance only beamed brighter. “Me too,” she murmured.
With one last squeeze, Prince Zasso tipped his head goodbye and went towards his father and other council members. His dance partner couldn’t help but watch him from afar; he was social, handsome, intelligent. All things she admired. It had been a while since she had a genuine liking towards someone in this way. Or at least, she thought, someone who wasn’t him.
Marron’s confliction knotted her stomach. Prince Zasso was so good about making his intentions known, whereas Trunks and her kept playing this back and forth. While she was more than taken with the lovely foreign dignitary, Marron couldn’t explain why her thoughts kept darting to her lavender-haired friend. Her eyes began to scan the crowd to see if she could locate him, ultimately spotting him still at the bar.
Has he been there this whole time? Alone?
When Marron couldn’t find Goten, she became worried that Trunks had been left to his own devices. Everyone else seemed occupied in different conversations throughout the ballroom. Marron’s heartstrings tugged at how lonely Trunks appeared across the way. Before she knew it, her feet started to guide her in that direction.
Though Trunks had paused for a water break earlier after his encounter with Kusa, another glance at the man’s younger brother and Marron prompted him to resume his drinking. Saiyans were lucky to have a better tolerance than most, especially given Trunks’ history, but even he was starting to feel a slight buzz. At least, that’s what he told himself when the noise of the crowd seemed to blend into one singular sound.
“Are you okay?”
Trunks stopped mid-drink at the sweet voice addressing him from behind. He tightened his eyes shut before opening them and turning to face a concerned-looking Marron. Even after a full night of dancing, her hair was still perfectly in place. How could she look so effortlessly beautiful?
“Peachy,” he said in a sterner tone than intended. The timbre was not unnoticed by Marron, but she attempted to move past it.
“It’s just…you’ve been over here a while…” the blonde trailed off, nervously twisting her hair per her habit.
She heard a quiet, albeit slightly bitter, scoff emanate from inside his throat. “Would’ve thought you’d be too distracted to pay attention to little old me,” Trunks replied, taking another swig of his spirits. The comment pained Marron; she thought they were past this.
“Trunks,” she began, “come on.”
“What? Don’t you have a prince to dance with?”
The human balked at his snide remark. “What’s your problem?” she countered, her face reddening ever so slightly.
Trunks shifted to look away. “No problems here, Lady Marron,” he retorted bitterly, using Zasso’s honorific for her. The comment made her brows furrow.
“Are you done?”
“What? You seem to like it when Zasso calls you that.”
Marron winced in simultaneous frustration and anger. He had so many chances this evening and he blew all of them. “Unbelievable,” she scoffed. The heat rose to her face. “You have the maturity of a toddler, Trunks,” the blonde seethed.
“Didn’t deter you before,” Trunks replied, with another sip.
“Before?” Marron glared. She was getting more irate, but if she was going to let her anger reach a boiling point, Marron wanted Trunks to be the one to burn his hand on the stove.
He swirled his glass around, knowing that he was on thin ice. Maybe it was the alcohol that emboldened him, or maybe it was an aching heart, but either way, Trunks decided to be frank with his words.
“Things change, I guess,” he said caustically.
“No.”
The venom in her tone prompted Trunks to shift towards her, a piece of him sobering up just by studying her face.
“Things don't change,” she spat out. If there were ever a time she looked and sounded like her mother, it was then and there. “You don’t change either, Trunks. You’re incapable of it, clearly. Always that spoiled kid from childhood. I don’t know why I ever expected anything different.”
His breath hitched, mute to her ire.
Marron continued to grieve the situation. “It’s the same old story,” she added, “and if you won’t act differently, then I will.”
“Marron.”
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of her tears, but it took more strength than she possessed to prevent them from falling. “Enjoy yourself, Trunks…although if you ask me, you make for piss poor company; even if you are your only companion.”
The blonde ran off towards the grand staircase, gripping the sides of her dress. Marron tried her darndest to avoid making a scene, but her quick exit was not unnoticed. She breezed past Prince Kusa of all people, nearly running into him. Mumbling a haphazard apology, she swayed to avoid the Souljin Heir and bolted up the stairs. From afar, Trunks could see Kusa blink in confusion. After the Crown Prince had a chance to register who it was, his green eyes honed in on Trunks, prompting the other prince to turn his head in shame.
It took Trunks a few moments to process the enormity of his missteps. The demi-Saiyan cursed under his breath. He steadied himself to his feet, knocking over his empty glass as he immediately went to chase after his childhood friend. Heading to the grand staircase, his one solitary focus was on reaching his destination, but he too was stopped.
“Is that wise?”
Trunks had made it up a couple stairs before Kusa’s question prompted him to turn around. Bloodshot eyes glanced at the floor. “Maybe not,” he conceded, no longer looking to argue with the Souljin Heir. The admission surprised even Prince Kusa. Raising his head again, Trunks’ face looked more determined. “But I’ll regret it if I don’t,” he acknowledged.
Kusa was about to say something in response, but his lovely wife laced her arm with his. “Husband,” Hinoki said affectionately, “I’m here to collect on the one dance you promised me. Do not think I forgot!”
The notably shy prince blushed at the outward affection. “You know I’ve two left feet, Hinoki,” he murmured, embarrassed. Her gorgeous gold eyes fluttered, only furthering her cause.
“And my left foot makes three,” she said, unbothered. Hinoki tugged on his arm once more until she realized that Trunks and Kusa had been engaged in conversation. “Oh forgive me, Prince Trunks,” Hinoki apologized, “I hadn’t realized you and Kusa were conversing.”
Trunks smiled politely. “You’re fine, Princess Hinoki. We were just finishing up,” the half-Saiyan assured, looking at the Crown Prince a final time. “Besides,” he said, turning around, “I’ll have plenty of time to chat with the prince tomorrow during my sword training.”
The comment both surprised Kusa and delighted Hinoki.
“Oh how lovely,” the princess beamed, squeezing her husband’s arm even tighter. “Look at you being social, my love,” she teased, giving Kusa a quick kiss.
Prince Kusa was still at a loss for words, recalling his earlier interaction with Trunks indicating otherwise. The determined look in the other man’s eyes however, convinced him that perhaps his previous advice was being heeded. He nodded at Trunks. “Suppose I’ll see you then, Prince Trunks,” Kusa accepted.
With his back turned, Trunks waved in response, resuming his trek up the staircase.
An amused smirk crossed the Souljin Heir’s face. “Maybe not so wasted after all,” he admitted quietly to himself. Kusa observed the man with interest before his wife finally managed to drag his body towards the dance floor, his protests notwithstanding.
-=-=-=-
Their return walk was far quieter than before.
Goten escorted Bulla, though both had trouble looking at the other. Remnants of flushed cheeks remained on their visages, failing to fade from view. Bulla especially kept her head low, not wanting the older man to pick up on the fact that she was still attempting to calm herself down from their vigorous tryst in the gardens. The bluette prayed he couldn’t tell how worked up their encounter left her.
They began to make their way up the stairs leading to the terrace, although Goten took note of Bulla’s heels once more and levitated the two for the rest of the way. Bulla was not expecting to take flight, but her feet thanked Goten for sparing them the additional steps. Her grip around him only tightened, eliciting a small smile on Goten’s part. Once their feet touched the ground, Goten noticed Bulla had not slackened her hold on him.
“Here,” Goten gestured as he loosened his arm. “Probably should walk in separately,” he acknowledged, the image of Vegeta’s earlier glare burned in his brain.
The comment finally brought the princess out of her head. “Good idea,” Bulla replied.
Goten nodded, about to turn to head back in when he heard her sweet timbre again.
“Thank you,” Bulla murmured, still a little shell shocked from before. When Goten’s expression revealed confusion, the heiress cleared her throat. “For the dance, I mean,” she elaborated. A haphazard curtsy followed, nerves getting the best of her.
Before Bulla could tip her head back up, Goten bowed to present a chaste kiss on her hand. He remained there as he replied, “I should be thanking you, Princess.”
“Oh?” Bulla uttered more anxiously than intended.
Resuming his tall stature once more, but still keeping his hand on hers, Goten silently watched the younger demi-Saiyan with all the fierceness he could muster. “Sure,” he added, his voice lowered a bit. “Not every day a low-class warrior gets to dance with the princess he serves,” Goten’s tone was still intense, but there was a playfulness to his words; as if the two of them were speaking in code.
The comment endeared her to him. “Not every day,” Bulla played along with a squeeze of his hand. Her lashes fluttered as her cheeks reddened. “Although,” she resumed, “I hope you’ll dance with me again sometime. Ball or no ball.”
Her heartbeat pulsated with the veracity of a rocket launched into space. Goten’s towering frame loomed over the princess, but she was far from fearful. Bulla saw the slightest upturn of his mouth as he glanced downward.
“To be so lucky,” Goten whispered in her ear.
Lingering for a few moments before pulling back and releasing her hand, Goten tipped his head before walking to the ballroom. Bulla was wise enough to remain a few steps back to not rouse suspicions, but truthfully, she needed some time to catch her breath.
How am I not dreaming?
Once the coast was clear, Bulla returned inside, the music and dance floor still lively, but the crowd had thinned a bit from earlier in the evening. Thankfully, most of her suitors from earlier were spread out and entertaining themselves through other means, giving Bulla a chance to breathe. Goku somehow had convinced Piccolo to engage in some friendly arm-wrestling in front of the Souljin Council and King Engei, both parties completely enraptured by the display. Even Prince Zasso was cheering with delight. Across the way, she observed Goten and Uub sharing a drink at the bar, where her brother was notably no longer at. She wondered where he could have darted off to.
Goten shared the briefest of glances with her before returning his attention back to their other friend. Bulla felt her heart skip a beat, but knew better than to try and force additional contact.
Her eyes found Pan sharing a sweet dance with her father, who seemed thrilled that his daughter wasn’t too old to indulge him. Bulla was touched. Pan was notoriously rough around the edges with most people, but she would always have a soft spot for Gohan.
It made Bulla think of her own father in that moment, scanning the room to see what he was up to.
Bulla looked upon the other half of the dance floor, surprised to see her parents in lock step with one another. Her father rarely indulged her mother in requests like this. As the two were rocking back and forth, Bulla found the spectacle unusual, but made her smile nonetheless. Although, when she realized both of her parents had that look on their faces, Bulla grimaced and immediately averted her gaze.
Also grabbing her attention was the intimate slow dance Princess Hinoki was sharing with her husband. While she did not see Prince Kusa’s expression, the look of love on Hinoki’s visage said it all. Bulla couldn’t help but beam at the Souljin woman’s happiness. Her cerulean eyes widened when Hinoki’s line of sight found her. Mouthing her thanks to the older woman for her earlier help, Bulla waved a small goodbye. Hinoki casted a playful wink at the other princess before returning her focus to Kusa.
The sweet moment did not last long, though. There was a chill down her spine when Bulla heard the same derisive laughter in the air from before. Her breath caught in her throat when she searched for Toge, worried he was nearby. Thankfully, he was tucked in the corner, surrounded by a band of beautiful Souljin women, distracted by their company. Bulla sighed in relief. One less thing to worry about.
When Bulla didn’t spy Marron in the crowd, she assumed the notorious early bird may have departed the ball early. The princess was eager to pick her friend’s brain about the dance with Prince Zasso.
In truth, without any further dances to share with Goten, there was little more Bulla wanted to do at the ball. She preferred to avoid having to half-heartedly dance or schmooze with any Souljin dignitaries, and quite honestly, she was still a bit shaken up from what occurred in the water gardens. The princess made her obligatory appearance, and now that there was no reason for any more suspicions upon her return, Bulla seized the moment to glide up the grand staircase.
Something probed her to glance back momentarily, and without fail, those ebony eyes she loved so much were glued to her every step. Flashing a tiny grin before resuming her trek, Bulla sighed. If her thirteen-year-old self could see her now, she dared to think she wouldn’t have believed it.
-=-=-=-
Finally letting her quiet tears fall once she was behind her door, Marron’s lip quivered with frustration before a sob unleashed. What had started out as a lovely evening full of promise felt spoiled. For all the progress she thought she made with Trunks, it was evident there was no going back to how things were no matter how hard either of them tried. It broke her heart into a thousand little pieces.
And, just as upsetting, was the fact she had the attention of a gorgeous specimen in the form of the Souljin Prince, and here she was: crying over a stupid boy of all things.
She never wanted this. She never wanted to feel so deeply for her best friend. She never wanted to ruin what they had. All she ever wanted was to feel at ease with someone she cared about. Marron could not deny how much she cared about him, but part of her was realizing the collateral damage of desiring such a man.
Desiring a Saiyan man.
Perhaps whatever genes ran through Vegeta and Trunks were not shared with their distant cousins. Marron could only hope.
Kliiick!
The loud jiggling of the doorknob startled the human, who was reminded in that moment she failed to lock the door. She jumped away as she felt it open behind her.
Since the person didn’t attempt to knock, she should have known immediately who it was entering the room. Marron hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights in her misery, but she could make that outline out anywhere. Trunks closed the door behind him, twisting the lock without even looking back. Even in the darkness, those glacial eyes glowed. His discerning stare bore into her and Marron fumed, the bottom of her jaw clenching.
The nerve!
His presence incensed her. The heat of her face was no longer because of tears, but fury. How dare he. After the stunt he pulled, how dare he show up here. Marron, amid her anger, found her voice.
“You stubborn, wretched, egotistical child, I swear Trunks—”
He didn’t let her finish; his mouth was to hers in a second, propelling the two of them backwards towards the bed in the middle of her room. Marron whimpered against him as their lips melded together. She felt the familiar fever roar inside, and part of her couldn’t tell if it was due to anger or passion. Perhaps, she thought, they were one in the same.
Still, as her back met the flat surface of the mattress, Marron pulled him towards her hoping she’d figure it out.
Her puffy dress didn’t deter Trunks, neither did his annoying armor. Once he worked his way under layers of tulle, the prince found what he was looking for. In one fell swoop, he yanked down her panties and tossed them to the side. Marron studied his face; less reddened than before, the alcohol’s effects waned from earlier. The hardness to his demeanor was still there and yet, his icy eyes seemed to warm as they observed her too. She flushed while they maintained eye contact; the intensity increasing by the second.
Then, Marron gasped as the coolness of his gloved hand trailed up her thigh. The noise paused his movements for a moment as he searched her face for permission. There was the faintest confliction in her chest, not because of who he was or what they were doing, but for the sake of the sweet Souljin man trying to court her. Was this fair to him?
Trunks leaned in closer, bending over her so that their faces were inches apart, his hand still near her center. As his bangs gravitated towards her, Marron saw the desire that she so badly craved from him before. Maybe it wasn’t fair, she lamented, but it was what she wanted. At least for now.
With a simple nod, the blonde gave her blessing.
There was a shockwave as she felt his gloved finger dip inside her, eliciting a high-pitch mewl. His lips moved to her neck, sliding the digit in and out at a tortuous pace. Marron arched her back, laborious breaths filling the air along with the sound of her wetness.
Trunks kissed up her jawline to reunite their mouths as another finger inserted itself. The sensation of his tongue on hers, as well as his fingers pumping in tandem drove Marron insane. When he curled his digits into a come hither motion, Marron threw her head back to moan. Her body only lubricated him further, his pace increasing. Trunks’ heavy breathing echoed in Marron’s ear.
“Let go baby,” he whispered with a foreign pet name. Marron whined when she felt his thumb circling her clit. The mix of his raspy demand and powerful hand movements ignited something she hadn’t experienced since their last time together.
“Trunnnnn,” Marron’s breathy whisper couldn’t even get his name out. She could feel her desire trickle down her legs. His gaze darkened when her face flushed with want. He fingered her more forcefully, the smacking noise resonant alongside her mewling.
“Atta girl,” he praised with his nose against her cheek. “Like last time,” Trunks continued, capturing her lips before hovering over her face. Beads of sweat formed on both of their brows as Marron was close.
The blonde crooned his name once more before unleashing a loud cry as she came. Even while Marron orgasmed, Trunks’ fingers still worked in and out of her, ensuring she did not miss out on any ounce of pleasure. Her body shivered with aftershocks, leaving an overstimulated sensation reverberating throughout.
Slowing his finger movements, Trunks placed another kiss to Marron’s cheek, heaving just as heavily as she was. Strands of his disheveled pastel locks stuck to his perspiring forehead.
“Good girl,” he commended.
Amidst her labored breaths, Marron nudged Trunks with her nose, searching for his lips as she regained feeling. She sluggishly bucked against his fingers still inside her. He appeased her with a swift and deep kiss, with Marron clawing at the back of his armor for added support. A guttural moan left her mouth.
“Please,” she begged.
The entire ocean didn’t have the depths that Marron possessed in her azure eyes. Trunks would sink to the bottom and stay there with an anchor tied to his waist if it meant he could gaze upon her forever. “Please…?” he needed to hear from the blonde exactly what she wanted.
“Please,” she repeated. Marron’s potent stare was glassy and lustful. Her legs wrapped around Trunks, inching up and down. No clearer intent than that.
She grieved the loss of his fingers from her dwelling, but Trunks never broke his gaze. After lifting the dripping hand to his lips, the prince inserted those same fingers in his mouth to sample the pleasure she bestowed upon him. A heady groan escaped Marron’s mouth at the erotic sight, her body growing more and more impatient. Trunks, once finished relishing the taste, pulled off the glove with his teeth and chucked it aside. He did the same with his other glove before he unzipped his bottoms with his newly freed hands.
Trunks raised the layers of tulle as he guided his weeping cock towards her entrance. Marron wheedled as the heat emanating from his member pressed against the volcano of desire close to erupting. She was burning up. If he didn’t enter her immediately, she’d combust.
Luckily for them both, Marron didn’t have to wait long.
“Shit,” Trunks agonized as her womanhood engulfed him whole. She was even tighter than he remembered.
“Kami,” Marron wept in reply.
The two rocked and writhed together, every thrust met with only more groans. Marron fisted the fabric of Trunks’ cape, hanging on for dear life as he entered her over and over again. His grunts into her neck vibrated throughout her body. The primal nature of their lovemaking had both Trunks and Marron rolling against each other as if they were in heat.
There wasn’t time for the playful banter they had their first go-round, or the sweet profession of feelings both stored up inside. No, their connection was far too carnal this time.
Her hot breaths near Trunks’ ear somehow said enough. He picked up their pace, giving her everything he had. His thrusts were long and powerful; Marron basked in the sensation as she knew this would be a shorter joining than their first connection. Between her last climax just minutes before and the vehemence of their current romp, there was no way she’d last much longer.
Trunks, too, was struggling to keep it together. He could smell the sweat and musk between them, an aphrodisiac all its own. It only made him press harder into her. Trunks had bent his entire body over Marron, barely giving himself the strength to stand. He gasped for breath as he felt the familiar tickle building up.
Marron joined his heaving as they panted in unison. One singular body at that moment. Her womanhood throbbed around him, begging for release. The tightness was unbearable.
Desperate to reach that end point, Trunks dipped his fingers to strum Marron’s clit. When she went to open her mouth to moan, he secured himself to her lips. Their tongues intertwined and Trunks could not hold it in any longer.
“Fuck!”
He emptied himself into her, similar to their first time, collapsing his entire body weight on top of the petite human as she followed with her own apex reached.
They rode the wave of their climax, momentarily numb and immobile. After a few seconds, Trunks used whatever little strength he had left to roll off of Marron and give them both a chance to breathe.
Both of them gasped for air, staring upwards at the ceiling as they each tried to make sense of what just happened. Trunks had fully intended on coming to Marron’s room to apologize, with little else on his mind, but the second he saw her that plan went out the window. All he could focus on was having her again. That didn’t diminish his regret for his earlier actions, though he certainly put them to the side for the sake of becoming one with Marron once more.
The pretty blonde’s skin started to change back to its porcelain hue. Trunks admired how even after all the vigorous exertion, she still managed to put the stars to shame. That’s what he really wanted to tell her. How lovely she was and how he wanted to be the center of her galaxy, like she was to him. His own damn pride ruined that chance earlier, but Trunks did not want to go another minute without saying his piece.
“Marron, what I said before, I’m sor—”
“Get out,” Marron ordered quietly, keeping her eyes on the ceiling.
Trunks’ demeanor softened. His heavy breathing paused as he absorbed what she had said. “Out?” he repeated, the contrast between this joining and their last quite stark. His tone reflected the shock and sadness the request brought.
“I don’t want you here, Trunks,” Marron replied. “And this…tonight doesn’t change anything. In fact, it makes things perfectly clear.”
“Marron, I’m sorry,” he said genuinely, but even he knew the words came much too late.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No, Trunks.”
Marron’s bottom lip trembled, but her frustration kept her tears at bay. “I told you earlier,” she continued sadly, “if you won’t change, I’ll have to.”
“Mare…”
She turned her head to the side. Determined to stay resolute, the blonde refused to look his way. “Look, you got yours,” she said with uncharacteristic bitterness. A few tears finally slipped out while her head was turned. “Hopefully, now you can leave Zasso and me alone without feeling the need to mark your territory.”
“C’mon, Marron, you can’t be serious,” he started to chuckle nervously. Almost trying to convince himself she didn’t mean what she said but he knew. “You think this is about me getting one over on that asshole?” Trunks wondered.
“He’s not the asshole here, Trunks. It’s you for putting me in this position, and it’s me for getting caught up in it. He didn’t deserve that.”
“Marron, that’s not at all what I wanted…I just wanted…”
“Like I said, it doesn’t matter what you wanted.”
More tears fell down Marron’s face onto the bed sheet. She held back a loud sob as she tried to stay strong. “You made your bed,” Marron added in barely a whisper. “You’ll have to lie in it. Without me.”
“Marron…”
He went to lean over her body only to be met with the angriest expression he had ever seen Marron make. The once pristine makeup now was smudge on her face, and those cobalt eyes, normally so gentle and sweet, only glowed with contempt. She conveyed her message in a thousand unspoken words. This was worse than when he avoided her after their first time together. This was pure wrath.
“Get out!” Marron said slowly and deliberately. Her voice dripped with disdain.
Trunks held back a gasp, instead biting his bottom lip to stay silent. Just a few moments of looking upon Marron’s hurt was more than enough to hit home that there wasn’t any coming back from this.
He fucked up.
Slowly, the half-Saiyan crawled off the bed and Marron returned to lie her head back down. She heard him gathering his things and making his way towards the door. When the Earthling didn’t hear him close the door, she was about to shoo him away again, but he beat her to the punch.
“I know I’ve fucked up, Mare,” Trunks confessed in the doorway. She still refused to look at him. “I know, and that’s all on me. I never wanted you to feel like shit. You don’t deserve it,” he said softly.
“I told you back at Capsule Corp. I would be more honest,” Trunks continued. “Here’s the truth: I don’t know how to just be your friend anymore; and that terrifies me.”
Marron stubbornly kept her head down, but her heart pounded so fervently she swore all of Souljin could hear it. She remained quiet as he finished.
“I regret hurting you,” Trunks added, “but I don’t regret being with you. This time or last time.”
He gripped the doorway so hard he almost left an imprint. “And Marron,” he whispered, “I don’t think you regret it either.”
The blonde finally shot her head up to counter his last point, but Trunks was already out the door, shutting it behind him. Marron didn’t take her eyes off the spot where he stood, until the overwhelming rush of emotion flooded her senses. She hated that he complicated things worse than what they had been. She hated that he had been too proud to tell her all of this earlier.
But, what she hated more than anything, was that he was actually right.
-=-=-=-
The Saiyan Princess sat at her vanity, brushing through her long strands of hair as she hummed in contentment. Not too long ago, the festivities had died down and with it, Bulla retreated to her room, still chasing that high.
What a night.
While she still had some lingering questions about where she stood with Goten after their near intimate encounter, Bulla knew the floodgates had opened. The roaring waters of tension built up for months between them had come to a forceful burst. Just the recent memory of it all left Bulla feeling warm.
Had they not stopped when they did, Bulla was certain the kiss would have evolved to something else entirely. There was a tremble that echoed throughout her core, recalling the powerful grip Goten had around her. Few men could ever make her feel as delicate as she felt in his arms. She had never experienced desire to that degree. Not only on her part, but his as well.
Even so, the princess ceased her brushing and frowned. Goten had succumbed to his feelings for a moment, yes, but she knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He just as soon recomposed himself before things got too out of hand. In her heart, Bulla could sense that Goten felt the same as she did and were their circumstances a little less complicated, perhaps he would embrace them more openly. She placed her brush down on the vanity and sighed.
Maybe this was just one of those magical nights where it was a one time thing. Something special she’d always remember years later when old and gray. There was no need to ruin such a lovely evening with speculation about the future. Goten likely wouldn’t pursue things and she was just going to accept it and move on, like any other adult would.
Or so Bulla thought.
A knock rang out which, given the time of night, puzzled the heiress. Bulla tightened her white robe around her matching satin nightie. Initially thinking it was the entryway, she headed in that direction. When she heard the knock again, Bulla realized it was coming from her balcony.
Meandering over to the glass door, the bluette could make out the familiar slanted hairstyle of Goten shadowed before her. The illumination of the two moons behind him provided a stark outline. When she approached, Bulla only saw the whites of his eyes; everything else was shrouded in black. As she undid the latch on the door, Bulla noticed his formal armor had been removed, all that remained was the spandex that had been underneath.
Finally unlocked, the princess opened the glass to reveal more of the man. She quaked when she observed just how intense his charcoal eyes appeared. Their gaze fixated on her and only her. Earlier in the evening, his look had been more besotted but now…
It was almost as if he was another animal entirely.
“Goten…?” Bulla wavered, unsure of what his presence meant.
Without warning, Goten crashed his mouth to hers as Bulla gasped at the sudden action. A tortured mewl escaped as she let Goten take control of their movements. Lifting her in his arms, the elder halfling carried Bulla to her canopy bed, not breaking their kiss for a moment.
Lowering her to the edge, Goten dipped at the ribbon of her robe with one hand before Bulla felt his attempt. Impatient, she used her own hands to unfasten the bow. Still attached at the lips, Bulla shrugged the robe off, baring her shoulders and revealing her nightie underneath. Goten momentarily ceased their make out as he scaled back to view Bulla. He inhaled sharply, with wordless approval, before lowering them both to the bed to kiss her once more.
Bulla clung to him as they pushed further up the bed, his muscular form towering over her smaller frame. Her lips puffed with irritation as Goten’s actions grew more ardent with every peck.
“Goten! What—”
“I had to see you,” he said decisively. Goten returned their lips together, probing deeper. Bulla lightly moaned against him. She loved how he tasted; hints of wine from earlier in the evening accompanied his normal scent. It was addicting. The bluette scratched at his hair, gripping what she could. As they continued, Bulla realized she hadn’t actually been able to ask the question that made her the most curious. It was one that was on her mind for days now, and she needed to know.
“What did you mean,” she panted out in between kisses, “when you said…”
A longer kiss caught her off guard. Desperately trying to catch her breath, Bulla continued to huff. “When you said,” she whispered breathlessly, “all you see is blue?”
Goten swooped in for another deep taste before inching his lips downwards. He moved to her jaw, her neck, remaining there while Bulla arched her back, enraptured.
The dark-haired halfling reluctantly pulled away to observe her sprawled out beneath him. Her tresses fanned out over the pillows, her flushed chest contrasted with the pure white nightie she wore. How ironic she lay before him in such a virginal color when the thoughts on his mind were anything but.
Stop…
Shaking his head, Goten tried to fixate on the question instead. His hand cupped her face, thumbing over her cheekbone with reverence. The older hybrid took a breath.
“Every time I close my eyes,” he murmured, kissing the other side of her face, “you’re all I see, Bulla.”
Her blue eyes widened in response, as Goten continued to plant his lips on various sections of her jawline.
“Your hair, your eyes, your gown tonight…” he trailed off, “even when I try to ignore it, you never leave my mind.”
Bulla leaned back to take in Goten’s enchanted expression. There was no hiding it. She knew with just a glance he meant every word he said. Her palms traced up his neck, and she held his face with a steeled gaze.
“Goten,” she breathed, “I’m glad I’m on your mind.”
He gently placed his hand over one of hers as she looked upon him adoringly. Bulla felt her heart jump out of her throat. “I want to be there, always,” the heiress confessed.
Goten’s visage bloomed with a tenderness that couldn’t be faked. Clutching her hand tighter, he leaned back down to savor her. Bulla hummed with pleasure as their tongues reunited. Her body squirmed against his, feeling an absolute fire between her legs. The recent memory of his hand nearly touching her there was enough kerosine to kindle an inferno.
An excited gasp of air left Bulla’s lips when she felt Goten’s hand dip beneath the hem of her nighty. He briefly hesitated to observe the look on her face. Ebony eyes elicited a shiver from the heiress with their potency. When Goten saw that Bulla’s lashes were batting with expectation, he gripped her hip and lowered his mouth to her chin. Kissing down her neck, his hand roamed the opposite direction. He landed at the tip of her collarbone while his fingers pressed against Bulla’s ribcage. Goten suckled her snowy skin, the pressure of his tongue and gentle nips reddening her normal color.
At the same time, Bulla lifted her head back to expose more of her neck to him. As she moved against Goten, the princess sensed his fingers just below her chest. Instinct took over, her body rolling in anticipation of where his fingers would venture next. When Bulla did not feel him exploring any further, she decided to be the adventurer.
While she held him firm with one hand at the back of his head, Bulla’s other palm descended. The spandex only enhanced the outline of his brawny build, every muscle and appendage. Feeling rather bold, Bulla allowed her palm to slip past his abdomen, hovering just beneath his pelvis.
Trepidation paused her movements but only for a moment. A quick inhale for courage and Bulla’s hesitant fingers wrapped around their destination.
Bulla could hear Goten hiss through clenched teeth into her neck. The action surprised him just as much as it did her. She did not expect to feel so… big . Her breaths increased dramatically, slowly working her hand up and down through the fabric. His hissing turned into a full on moan. The Saiyan Princess’ pride went up a couple notches when she realized how her movements were affecting him.
“I’m guessing you like that?” she teased in her best attempt at sultriness.
“Bulla—”
Goten threw his head back. Of course he liked it. That wasn’t the issue. It was the fact that here was the beautiful, innocent Bulla Briefs, caressing his raging hard-on for her. Bulla Briefs, who had barely had time to perfect the art of kissing, in spite of her natural affinity for it. Not to mention, Bulla Briefs: the daughter of the man down the hall who would oh so assuredly rip off said dick if he were to catch them at that very moment.
Since this rationalization was only occurring in Goten’s head, this did not stop Bulla’s hand movements.
She giggled softly as she ushered another groan out of the older man. “Guessing you do,” the half-Saiyan female whispered, pleased with her work. Leaning to kiss him, Bulla tightened her grip, and any protests he had were lost on her tongue.
Goten continued to moan into her mouth, his fingers beneath Bulla’s nightie slowly inching up towards her breast. Bulla mewled against him when Goten’s hand nearly reached their destination. It only tightened her hold on his member. The other hybrid could not believe the strength she possessed in that tiny hand of hers. He was worked up before she even touched his skin. Just the thought of her hand stroking him without the barrier of fabric, almost made him finish. But his heart sank as that thought dove into other thoughts, each more erotic than before.
Stop… he pleaded with his inner dialogue.
How cool her fingers would feel around his heat. First, her hand…then her mouth…
Stop!
“Stop,” he finally verbalized aloud to himself.
“Huh?” Bulla absentmindedly murmured, not sure if she was hearing things.
Goten vacated the crook of her neck, his dark eyes penetrating her gaze with a much different intensity than before. Where desire and longing had been, now only shone shame. It was such a stark shift that Bulla blinked in confusion.
“Goten?”
He retreated to the edge of the bed, his side profile discernable with the pale moonlight peeking in. She saw him breathe deeply through his nostrils, his mouth still closed in a hard flat line. Goten’s sunken expression nearly broke her heart.
“Goten?” she repeated. His gaze remained fixed on the floor.
“I’m sorry,” Goten finally spoke.
The heiress raised an eyebrow. “What are you sorry for?” she asked kindly. Her bottom lip folded under her teeth. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Goten.”
“It’s not you, Bulla,” he said adamantly, “I’m the problem.”
“How are you th—?”
“I’m no better than Toge,” he professed, palms pressed on top of his knees. The elder halfling swallowed thickly as he accepted the hard truth. “No better than any man that’s ever made you feel uncomfortable.”
Disbelief swept over Bulla’s face as she tried to absorb what Goten was telling her. The contrast of his earlier affection to him now pulling away puzzled her deeply. She wasn’t sure what prompted this sudden change.
“Goten, how could you think that?”
Staring into her blue orbs, Goten saw the sheer admiration she held for him. It made him sick inside, feeling so unworthy of her favor. If only she knew just how deep his fondness for her went. If only she knew how base, how primal…
How Saiyan.
“I’m no better,” he repeated, much quieter this time.
Bulla inched over to where he sat over the side of the bed. “Goten,” she began again, “you’re nothing like him.”
Her stalwart confidence was moving, but not convincing enough to the doubt that raged below the surface.
“You don’t think if given the chance he’d take you, despite your inexperience?” Goten posed the question with a bit of bitterness. His troubled countenance veered downwards once more.
“That’s him. That’s them. Not you.”
“Isn’t it?”
Broadening her eyes, the princess studied his expression. “Is it?’ she asked warily. Bulla never considered Goten to be one-tracked or disingenuous for the sake of luring her to bed. His insistence on the similarities he shared with those other men though, seemed to suggest otherwise. Even so, Bulla knew the kind of person he was. Still, his darkened eyes when she first opened the balcony door would forever be imprinted on her memory.
Maybe there was a side of him she had yet to discover.
Bulla’s head turned when she felt Goten cup her cheek. She longingly brushed his hand, enjoying the warmth. Her ocean orbs observed his obsidian. “Is it?” she repeated much quieter this time.
Goten started to pull her to him, feeling the magnetic allure once more, but stopped inches before their lips reunited. He closed his eyes in frustration and released her face. Silently, he stood up to head towards the balcony doors, and for Bulla it sunk in that this night would not end how she hoped.
“Goten wait—”
There was a sadness to her tone that had not been there before. Goten paused his movements. Shifting himself towards her, Goten saw the concern she had. His face softened briefly as he studied hers, almost as if it would be the last time. “I crossed a line coming here, Bulla,” the older hybrid confessed. “I thought I had myself in check but…I lost control tonight.”
Her brows furrowed. “You say that as if I didn’t want you to,” Bulla murmured.
Goten’s half-hearted smile betrayed his words. “Maybe we can both blame it on the moons,” he said, opening the door. Goten hesitated before walking through. “I really am sorry though, B-Chan,” the elder halfling finished.
Before Bulla could respond, Goten left as quickly as he came. She dashed towards the balcony to see his fading figure flying back to his room, attempting to be as indiscreet as possible. Bulla wrapped her arms around herself when a gentle breeze blew by and she realized she was still just in her nightie. The bluette peered out into the water gardens before catching the last remnants of Goten’s form. Her heart sunk deep into her stomach.
“I don’t want an apology, Goten,” Bulla said as he finally faded from view. Those blue eyes gazed up at the twin moons, wondering if Goten’s words held any truth there. She found herself biting her lip before the emotion overwhelmed.
“I just want you,” she whispered.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 11 and well, heaven may be a bit out of reach for some right now.
I’ve been working on this chapter for so long, I laugh at the different iterations it went through. The Goten/Bulla scenes were very intricately outlined, but I tend to let Trunks/Marron speak more to me when I write them out. I knew they’d have a moment in this chapter to uh, “reconnect” but definitely was surprised at the outcome. Still, I’m happy that there’s a nice dichotomy with our two main couples, our two “moons” as it were. I like that they can both explore the different complexities of relationships, even when they sometimes mirror each other.
Chapter 12: Bulla tries to make sense of her evening and Goten tries to remember his place. Marron moves forward with Zasso, and Trunks attempts to get his shit together with the help of Prince Kusa.
Thanks again for all the support, friends!
-SonChan
Chapter 13: Chapter 12: For You, For Always
Summary:
Bulla tries to make sense of her evening and Goten tries to remember his place. Marron moves forward with Zasso, and Trunks attempts to get his shit together with the help of Prince Kusa.
Notes:
Disclaimers: Don’t own DBZ/GT, never will, but would be cool right? Reminder, I have Bulla born before Pan in this in accordance with the guidebooks.
Author’s Note: WOWZA! Thank you all for the continued love and support. Means more than I can say! After a busy couple of months, I’m getting back into the groove!! I know things got a bit spicy last chapter with our little TruMar side plot and we were almost there with the Broten/Braten side of things too. I’ve hinted about it in the tags for months, but there will be a big romance component to this story. Smut seems disingenuous to call it, but just know that’s where we are headed. I’ve done my best to build a slow burn, as fun as PWP can be, because I’ve always wanted the foundation to be strong.
While I write Bulla a little younger than I usually do for the world of this story to make more sense, I hope it’s clear that I give her complete agency as an adult, albeit a fresh one, and with maturity that befits her character, given her intelligence and who she has been surrounded by. This includes curiosities and desires, a lot of which are formed in our teenage years, but please know I’m very firm with appropriate power dynamics. I figure if you have made it this far by now you are a fan of the pair or are tolerating them for my sake (to which I say, thank you!) but the princess is in full control here.
Playlist Recommendations: Blue, I’m Blue, Love is Pain, You’ll Run, I’ll Burn
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 12: For You, For Always
18 years earlier…
“She just…lays there.”
Goten gazed at his 12-year-old friend while they stood next to the newborn Bulla’s baby crib. With Bulma down for a much needed nap and Vegeta training, the task to watch the young half-Saiyan fell to her fellow hybrids. “She’s a baby, Trunks,” he responded reasonably.
“Yeah, well,” Trunks resumed, “you’d think she’d be a little more exciting than this.”
“Well, she’s had a long day…you know, being born and all…”
“So what? She’s half-Saiyan like us! I’m surprised she’s not ripping her blanket in half.”
“Bulla’s not Godzilla!”
“No,” Trunks conceded. His face lit up at the thought. “But how cool would it be if she was?!”
Goten chuckled. “I think your sister’s pretty adorable,” he said. His words, though likely not understood by the newborn, still seemed to coax a joyful squeak out of her. Hearing her happiness made Goten grin. Trunks raised his eyebrow.
“Huh, she must like you,” the older halfling remarked.
“Oh,” Goten said, diverting his attention back to his friend. “Maybe,” he surmised. “Probably just likes sound,” the Son boy reasoned.
Trunks considered his words for a second. He then peered over the crib, inching close to her face. Both siblings remained silent until Trunks contorted his nose and lips. After making what Goten thought was the ugliest looking expression he could muster, Trunks squawked a goofy noise. Goten didn’t know whether to feel concern or pity at the effort.
Neither did baby Bulla, apparently, whose blank stare yielded no noise or action.
After some more gibberish was spewed, Trunks grew bored when he realized she wasn’t reacting to the gesture. “No fair,” he frowned. “How come it worked for you?”
“I don’t know,” Goten responded honestly. Just hearing his voice prompted Bulla to babble again. Trunks continued to pout until an idea crossed his mind.
“Hang on, I’ll go see if I can grab some of my toys! She should like that,” the young prince deduced. “Watch her, ‘kay?” Trunks exclaimed as he dashed out of the room before Goten could respond.
“Trunks wait!” he called after him. Goten gulped as his attention turned to the little girl. He’d never been alone around a baby this young before. The elder demi-Saiyan marveled at the new female counterpart. He was so used to boy Saiyans and halflings, the thought of a girl being one would take some getting used to.
An innocuous trill of Bulla’s lips brought Goten out of his thoughts. Left on his own with the baby, Goten felt a bit nervous, but the playful smile on Bulla’s face only prompted one to form on his. She really was a cutie. Seeing her in all her innocence made him instantly protective towards her.
“I don’t have a sister,” Goten said to the day-old babe in the crib. “I guess Videl is sort of one now but,” he lowered his voice, “I’ve always wanted an actual one myself, though.”
Baby Bulla stretched, her big blue eyes staring up in curiosity.
Goten continued to look down sweetly at the newborn. “Trunks is like my brother though, so I s’pose that makes you like my sister too!” he said excitedly.
He took the cooing noise she made as a positive response. Right away, Goten’s focus went to her cherubic face. Aqua eyes that were just like Bulma’s under the teensiest peak of blue atop her head. Her full cheeks were cute and squishy…how could he not press a finger there to see for himself? Bulla continued to giggle as Goten gently touched the soft skin. He was more than surprised when the newborn reached for the finger on her cheek and squeezed with her little hand. Goten took a breath.
Being half-Saiyan, Bulla was already abnormally strong for an infant. That wasn’t what surprised him most, though. As Bulla gripped his finger, her giggling turned into uproarious laughter and babbling. She looked directly up at him, happy as a clam. It was the most expressive he had seen her all day.
“Whoa…” Goten breathed quietly. Bulla seemed to like him! He beamed with pride. For her to trust him so much already was humbling. “Don’t worry, Bulla,” the young demi-Saiyan began, “I promise I’m gonna always keep you safe. Like another big brother!”
“Tch.”
Goten’s ears perked up as the familiar sneer of Vegeta echoed through the room. He turned to face the older man, his finger still encased in the young Bulla’s grip. Vegeta was in the doorway, arms crossed per usual, glaring at the Son boy. Goten immediately withdrew hand to put it behind his back. “Hi Vegeta,” he said nervously.
“Where’s Trunks?” Vegeta asked curtly.
“Oh! He went to grab a toy for Bulla.”
“A toy?”
“Yeah! For her crib. I was just watching her while he—”
“You shouldn’t be alone with a newborn,” Vegeta chided, approaching the crib to gaze down at his daughter babbling excitedly upon his arrival. Though she had barely been Earthside for forty-eight hours, Bulla seemed to know who her father was already. Her tiny palms stretched out for him and Vegeta let her grab his hand. The slightest uptick in the corner of his mouth suggested he was pleased with the action. Just as soon, however, the normal scowl he sported graced his face once more.
“Toys can’t be in the crib, by the way,” Vegeta added. He lifted the little girl up into his arms while she cooed affectionately. He situated the babe more comfortably before turning towards the young hybrid. “It could be dangerous for her,” he explained.
“Oh,” Goten lowered his head, ashamed he didn’t know that.
“Remember, Goten,” Vegeta continued, “this is your princess.”
Goten’s eyes widened. “Right! I forget you guys are royalty sometimes!”
The comment wasn’t an insult, but Vegeta glowered as if it was. Goten sheepishly put his hands up. “I-I mean, yes,” Goten bowed politely.
“She’s the first princess born in the royal family for over five generations,” the proud Saiyan Prince added, little Bulla chattering in agreement. After giving her the smallest of amused smirks, Vegeta returned his attention to Goten. “Were we still on Planet Vegeta, you’d answer not only to me, but her,” Vegeta continued. Goten’s expression brightened; he loved whenever Vegeta would talk about Saiyan culture and Planet Vegeta.
“Wow! Like a bodyguard or something?”
“Huh? No, you clown,” Vegeta scolded, “low-class warriors were always sent to other planets. I meant you’d answer as a subject.”
“Ah,” his face fell, the inadequacy of a long lost rank hitting him where it hurt.
When Goten was silent for a few moments, Vegeta rolled his eyes. He hated when Kakarot’s youngest made that mopey face. “I suppose,” he began again, “since this isn’t Planet Vegeta, an extra pair of eyes to watch her isn’t a terrible notion.”
The sable eyes of the younger man turned hopeful once again. “Really?” he wondered.
Vegeta refocused his attention on Bulla, snuggled against his chest with a wide smile. Goten couldn’t help but grin too. She did not fear the man the universe knew as a killer. Never would she know that dark side of him. This was her father; her love for him was as innate to her as fighting was to a Saiyan. Goten heard Vegeta clear his throat, and he gazed once more at the older man.
“This universe can be unkind to little girls, Goten,” the prince resumed. His voice had grown a touch quieter than before. “I’ll make sure she suffers no fools, but I won’t always be around. Trunks may not always be either. Promise me you’ll protect her when she needs it.”
Goten took a breath at the seriousness of Vegeta’s words. “I promise,” he vowed swiftly. He gazed at the newborn with all the sweetness inside him.
In response, Bulla started to coo and reach her arms out to the young boy. The action made Goten smile, but seemed to cause a vein to appear on Vegeta’s forehead. The youngest Son attempted to not aggravate the man any further and did not reach for the baby. Undaunted, Bulla stretched towards him, prompting a low, quiet growl to reverberate in Vegeta’s throat. Goten took this as his cue to head towards the door.
“I…I’ll go see if I can find Trunks and tell him to forget the toys,” he said. Exiting, Goten stopped in his tracks as Vegeta said his name one last time.
“Goten.”
“Er, yes Vegeta?”
There was a beat of silence, not counting Bulla’s baby noises, as Goten saw the penetrative gaze Vegeta casted. If expressions could control movements, the younger Saiyan convinced himself that Vegeta was keeping him planted where he stood.
“Always remember your place, boy,” he cautioned darkly.
Goten felt a chill up his spine, and Bulla ceased her cooing as Vegeta uttered his warning. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure what the Saiyan Prince meant, but it made his skin crawl. Darting his eyes to the infant, even her angelic face seemed to be affected by the intense comment. He swallowed hard, nodding in respect before departing the room.
As he walked away from Bulla’s room, Goten picked up his speed to hightail it out. Heading off to find Trunks, the not-so veiled threat echoed in his ears. Goten would be haunted by it in the years to come, even when unaware as to the root. An incessant reverberation that would stick to him like a shadow.
Always remember your place, boy.
-=-=-=-
It had been a long time since Goten thought of that first promise, but Vegeta’s warning lived in his head always.
The hot water dripping down from the shower stung Goten’s skin as a scalding reminder. Last night, he had certainly forgotten his place. His rank, his class, his brotherly relationship…all of it dissipated as rapidly as the water circling the drain below.
Goten claimed following Bulla to the terrace was him being protective, but he knew there was another reason. The thought crossed his mind multiple times since the night of her birthday several months prior. It crossed his mind when he trained with her, when she came over for dinner, when she was pinned beneath him in the dirt. It crossed his mind when they teased each other back and forth, when he fell asleep next to her on the ship, when he danced with her at the ball, when he finally had her lips on his again.
How unbrotherly it felt to sneak onto her balcony and scoop her up in his arms, kissing her to try and quell the fire below. Only, the kisses didn’t extinguish the flame; they doused it in gasoline, and Goten was willing to burn down the whole palace for a chance to taste her.
He promised Bulla he’d always keep her safe. Some protector he was though; Goten could fell almost any foe that would approach him, but he failed to control the most dangerous threat: himself.
Nevermind that the princess pleaded with him to stay, to indulge. Goten was at a loss for words as his mind drifted back to her hands on him. She felt so good, tasted so good…pulling away in that moment was more difficult than he cared to admit, in more ways than one.
His gaze turned from the drain to the still stiff member below; throbbing due to lack of release. The past few months of abstaining from indulgence were catching up to him. Goten attempted to tell himself that were he to give in, he could just think of something other than Bulla. However, as much as he wished that were true, the hybrid knew there wasn’t anything or anyone else that would occupy his mind. He felt his mouth go dry, his hands go clammy—it hurt at this point to not give himself a release.
Stop…
The same song and dance in his head of trying to resist his urges continued to play, but the tune was losing its strength. During the prior evening, he had nearly come undone from just her obstructed touch. The exploration itself was almost chaste; the heiress discovering his body, albeit over his clothes, for the first time. But there was nothing pure about the lust it awoke inside…he wanted her hands everywhere. Her mouth everywhere. The slight hint of mischief that twinkled in her eyes as she watched his reaction to her touch, Kami forgive him, he even thought about her making that face covered in his essence.
How could such a vision be both simultaneously sickening and all-consuming?
Goten was well-aware she was no longer a child. No longer a young preteen obsessed with aging before her time. She proved to him time and time again just how bright, how intelligent she was. How mature and refined, all while still keeping her good-humored and playful nature. When he looked at Bulla, he didn’t see that little girl he swore to protect, but a beautiful woman who he would give every limb of his body to keep whole.
Even from him.
If allowing himself release helped to do just that, maybe he could partake. He would just have to keep his thoughts off of her. The half-Saiyan brought his hand down to grip the tormenting body part in question. It almost hurt to touch, the tension from lack of indulging. Slowly, Goten worked through the pain, his mind racing with images of as many distractions as possible.
Green grass, childhood, cloud watching with Gohan, with Bulla…no!
He shook his head. The firmness of his hold increased as he attempted to think of other things again. Insects, dirt, rolling around in the dirt with…stop!
The groan he unleashed was one of frustration, not pleasure. Goten had to get his mind off of her. Though he wasn’t touching her right then, the guilt of doing what he was doing seemed so unbefitting of what a Saiyan Princess deserved. What she deserved. But, try as he might, his mind swirled with only thoughts of an ocean, a sky at high noon, those eyes…
Goten was truthful the night before when he told Bulla this; she never left his head.
“Shit,” he cursed as one last thought of her face from the night before prompted him to free the hold on his member. It ached to be so close to finishing, but Goten did not want to cross that threshold. Even if it meant enduring the uncomfortable torment in the meantime, better that than the alternative.
With enough restraint to prevent significant damage, Goten punched the wall. He feared there was no going back from the night prior. Whatever resistance he built up, it was so close to crumbling. His attempts at decency, at loyalty to his friend, one of his mentors, and to Bulla herself…he watched it go down the drain along with the soapy water below. What possessed him to act on those inhibitions? Goten knew he was near helpless upon seeing Bulla and her radiance at the ball, but what manner of animal released once he was in the gardens with her?
Maybe we can both blame it on the moons…
Curiosity piqued, the demi-Saiyan wondered if his lighthearted joke held any weight. Could he have been affected by the Souljin moons? Or was it something else entirely?
His body shivered as the water started to turn cold as he arrived at a chilling realization. One thing was for certain: the only way to find out was by going to the only person he knew as an expert on all things Saiyan.
Bulla’s father.
-=-=-=-
“Again!”
“Again? That’s like the fifth time, Kusa!”
“Five times incorrectly. Do it again.”
Trunks groaned as he attempted to maneuver his sword the way Prince Kusa had instructed him to do. True to his word, Trunks showed up for sword training, much to his and Kusa’s surprise. Even so, it was clear the heir to the Souljin throne was not taking it easy on the half-Saiyan. If anything, Trunks thought, he figured Kusa was discreetly getting back at him for his attitude.
Still, given that his evening ended on a rather sour note to say the least, Trunks welcomed the distraction.
“Again, Prince Trunks. Keep your elbows high.”
“If they go any higher, Kusa, they’re not coming back down!”
“Honestly, it’s like instructing a teenager. Always a comment for everything,” Kusa bemoaned. “Surely, the heir to the Saiyan throne has had etiquette training at least?”
Trunks paused for a second as he pondered the comment. The heir to the Saiyan throne. It somehow sounded far more heavy-handed than expected. Though Trunks at some points in his life showed interest in the history of Saiyans, it didn’t exactly carry with him through adulthood. Bulla had more natural curiosity about their lineage. Hell, even Goten had for a while too; Trunks remembered that his father told a handful of stories to the young boy who seemed to love them. He wasn’t quite sure when things shifted for him, but Trunks knew that he hadn’t always been kind to Vegeta when it came to embracing that history.
“No throne,” Trunks replied. His gaze diverted to the dusty grounds of the barracks. “Not anymore, at least.”
“Even so,” Kusa retorted, “one would think the remainder of the Saiyans would need an example to follow.”
“Aside from a few of us,” he replied gently, “not a lot around to preserve that.”
Kusa pursed his lips to the side of his mouth. “Interesting,” the royal added, “given your father’s behavior, I would have presumed otherwise.”
Trunks lowered his sword. “What do you mean?”
A low chuckle emitted from Prince Kusa’s throat. “Your father is prideful to a fault, Prince Trunks,” the Souljin Heir commented. “I can’t imagine he would let his beloved legacy fall to the wayside.”
The demi-Saiyan halted his movements. He knew Kusa wasn’t wrong, but he also knew there were layers to Vegeta that most couldn’t understand; including him at times. For once, Trunks not only felt defensive of his lineage, but proud of it, too.
“For a culture that is predominantly made up of old Saiyan traditions, I’m surprised you feel that way,” the hybrid commented.
“Believe me, were it up to me, that wouldn’t be the case.”
Trunks was intrigued by the statement, his eyes broadened with curiosity as to what Kusa meant.
“As ardently as I admire my own father,” Kusa began again, “his fascination with the Saiyan side of our genes is misplaced, I feel.”
“Why?”
Kusa’s nose turned upward. “Because, I too, have studied years of genealogy and history, Prince Trunks,” he said plainly, “the Sadalan Civil War decimated a planet and could have destroyed the Saiyan race entirely. Perhaps it should have, and saved the universe a bit of pain.”
“You wouldn’t be here then,” Trunks answered all too simply.
His companion shrugged. “Be that as it may,” he continued, “maybe it would have been for the better.”
Prince Kusa went through the motions of the technique Trunks was trying to perfect with ease, as the younger man watched with engrossed attention. “Surely, you must struggle to reconcile your own genetics, Prince Trunks,” Kusa continued, gracefully demonstrating his swordsmanship skills. “I’ve a much smaller amount of Saiyan blood, but it still sings to me, even when I prefer it didn’t.”
Clenching his jaw, Kusa’s muscles reflected the tension within his words. “I do not wish to be associated with a culture that prided itself on conquests and unnecessary violence.”
With elegant grace, Kusa finished his display, while Trunks reflected on what he said. Being hybrid, he knew the struggles of trying to lead two lives; one as a human and the other as a Saiyan. Both were intrinsically part of his makeup. He supposed he’d never be able to completely separate the two, even if he had longed to do so in his youth.
“You’re not entirely wrong,” Trunks stated.
“Tell me,” Kusa wondered, “you must notice the difference in your makeup compared to that of Prince Vegeta. The rest of you hybrids as well seem less apt to indulge in hubris. Even this Son Goku, for all his Saiyan genetics, was a product of the environment he was raised in.”
“Look, I know my dad isn’t known for his warmth…”
“Putting it lightly.”
“But I can’t blame him for how he is either,” Trunks added. His mind drifted to the sweet moment before the ball when his father assisted him. A quiet smile started to form, his resolve firm. “You’ve only known isolation, and for a long time, he only knew enslavement.”
A twinge of hurt impacted Trunks’ tone; he had never quite said it aloud before.
The lavender-haired man continued. “Dad’s incredibly prideful of his heritage, yes, but he’s someone who has lost it bit by bit over the years. There will never be another pureblooded Saiyan born to this universe and I can imagine that’s a lonely thought.”
“You and the rest of Souljin have been able to incorporate the old customs, and my dad has not. Whether or not you like that side of your heritage, at least you have more of a choice than he did.”
As he ended his reasoning, Trunks found himself wondering where those thoughts came from. It wasn’t something he dwelled on often, yet at the crux of his connection with Vegeta, he knew his father longed to be understood. Though Trunks was unable to in many ways, there was still a sliver of himself that did.
Prince Kusa and his stoic demeanor remained as such, but Trunks could tell the tension in his jaw loosened from earlier. This was not an unreasonable man by any stretch and even he seemed to be pondering what had been elocuted. If anything he seemed almost…impressed.
“You keep surprising me, Prince Trunks.”
“Is that a good thing?”
Kusa let out a wry grin before knocking Trunks’ sword away with little resistance. Trunks blinked, trying to process how quick his counterpart struck. An impressed chuckle emitted from his lips.
Using his sword to flip Trunks’ fallen weapon into the air, Kusa caught it with ease. He extended it to the demi-Saiyan with a telling nod.
“Again,” the Prince-Consort instructed pointedly.
-=-=-=-
“You both are acting so weird this morning.”
Against the background noises of the bustling Souljin City Bazaar, Pan’s declaration brought her two distracted friends out of their respective reveries. The chaotic market was filled with various vendors and customers, the city’s ambience amplified with activity. All three women had been eager to explore since arriving, but had only gotten the chance to visit that day. Yet, both Bulla and Marron appeared distracted and disengaged.
Pan was always the observant one to notice the odd behavior of her friends. Bulla seemed to be in better sorts, more pensive than anything. Marron, on the other hand, appeared like she was holding in a wellspring of emotion. The blonde faked a smile when she realized she had been caught.
“Sorry Pan,” Marron confessed, “a bit…tired from last night.”
“What? Too much energy spent dancing with a handsome prince?” Pan teased.
The human tensed before brandishing another faux grin. “Probably,” she said simply.
“What’s your excuse then, Blue? I’ll give you Toge, but Uncle Goten sure as hell ain’t handsome.”
Pan chuckled, expecting some sort of reaction either in form of laughter or protest, but neither came. Marron had gone back to drifting off, and Bulla mindlessly played around with jewelry at the stall in front of them. Neither seemed to have heard what she said. The youngest member groaned as she realized she was not making headway. “Why yes, Pan!” the quarterling said to herself sarcastically. “How astute! You sure are the smart one in this bunch.”
Bulla finally put down the zoisite bracelets she had been rummaging through. “Did you say something, Pan?” the princess responded, finally acknowledging her friend.
Her ebony-haired friend rubbed her temples. “Kami,” she lamented, “you two are off in Lalaland while I’m trying to enjoy this little vacation of ours.”
As they perused a few more stands, a standalone boutique was situated near the bazaar. Pan’s eyes lit up.
“I’m gonna run in here for a bit,” she explained. “You want to check it out, Bulla?”
The heiress almost answered yes, but noticed Marron was still absentminded at the next stand over. Though subtle, the look on her face appeared troubled. Bulla’s heartstrings tugged.
“Actually, go ahead, Pan. I see a couple more stands I want to stop at,” she said.
Pan shrugged and made her way inside, leaving Bulla alone with the distracted older woman.
Oblivious to the conversation around her, Marron picked up a pair of white gloves on the stand and traced her thumb over the material. Smooth, pristine, cool to the touch. They were almost identical to the pair Trunks had worn last night. The blonde couldn’t hide the heat permeating from her cheeks, remembering in vivid detail the events that had unfolded.
“You okay, Marron?”
Her attention reverted back to her blue-haired friend, dropping the gloves back on the stand. Bulla raised her eyebrow in a curious manner, looking eerily evocative of her father. Marron displayed a twinge of pain for a moment, not wanting to expose the sordid details of what occurred between Bulla’s brother and herself. It was hard enough not sharing her true feelings, and the night before only made it unbearably complicated. Bulla didn’t need to be dragged in the middle of things.
“Just an eventful evening,” Marron said, faking a small smile. Her blue eyes brightened a bit as something crossed her mind. “I should be asking you about your night though while Pan is distracted…”
“Shh!” Bulla exclaimed. She brought her hand to cover Marron’s mouth for a brief moment while she observed their surroundings. Satisfied that Pan was still in the boutique, Bulla removed her palm from the human’s mouth. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I still don’t want her to know.”
Marron gave a sympathetic look. “I understand,” she acknowledged, her words ringing especially true.
“It was…”
Bulla couldn’t help but blush as a wide grin crept on her face. “It was a near perfect night,” she answered breathlessly.
“Oh Bulla,” Marron began again, beaming. “I’m so happy for you. Goten looked completely entranced yesterday.”
Flushing deeper, Bulla cleared her throat. “Did he?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
“It was obvious he couldn’t take his eyes off of you,” her friend returned. When Marron saw Bulla’s smile fade to a flat line, she raised her eyebrow. “What’s that face for?” she wondered.
Bulla checked the coast to make sure Pan was still occupied. “There were…developments,” the heiress confessed.
Marron momentarily forgot about her own drama and grew wide-eyed with excitement at Bulla’s statement. “What kind of developments are we talking about?” she questioned, eagerly tapping her friend’s arm.
“Goten and I wandered the water gardens alone,” Bulla began, “and well, we ended up kissing. A lot.”
Bulla winced as Marron’s shaking of her arm grew more furious. “You did?!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, but watch my arm, Mare!”
“Sorry, sorry—but Bulla, this is great! Why do you look so upset? Isn’t this what you wanted?”
The princess turned her attention to the booth nearby, tracing her fingers against a multitude of colorful silk scarves. She tried to find the right words. “There’s more,” Bulla shared quietly.
“More?”
“Goten…came to my room last night…”
Marron suddenly got a bit protective. “Excuse me, he did what now?” she said, becoming animated.
In response, Bulla threw up her hands and shook them. “Hold on, hold on,” she insisted, “not what you think!”
“Bulla, don’t tell me he—”
“No,” she answered firmly. A saddened sigh passed her lips. “No, he didn’t.”
Marron softened her features, once again appearing sympathetic. “Bulla, what happened?” she inquired.
“I thought we finally pushed past whatever doubts he had,” Bulla revealed. “Goten kept kissing me and saying how he couldn’t get me out of his head…but,” she paused again. “Then he stopped. His demeanor totally changed. He looked like he had committed a crime or something. Even said he wasn’t any better than Toge,” Bulla continued.
“Toge? What’s up with Toge?”
Oh right, hadn’t even gotten to explain that whole thing yet…
“Doesn’t matter,” Bulla replied, still keeping an eye out for Pan’s return. She sighed. “Point is, Marron,” she began again, “it became very clear last night he has his hang ups still.”
Marron attempted to respond, but was cut off by her friend’s continuation.
Bulla lowered her head. “He seemed so convinced he wasn’t a good person, Marron. Like Goten not a good person? How could he possibly think that? Unless…” she trailed off for a second. It was hard to reconcile the man she knew with who he believed himself to be.
“He’s clearly wrong,” Marron answered gently. “If Goten wasn’t a good guy, I don’t believe he’d even respond that way. I think he’s just being hard on himself.”
“What do you mean?”
“B, he probably knows this is a big deal especially given that you’re…”
“Younger?”
Her friend blushed as she shook her head. “A virgin,” she said quietly.
Bulla’s eyes widened. “Why does that matter?” the heiress asked. Marron made a face.
“Bulla,” she began again, “his whole life, you’re someone he’s been expected to treat a certain way, and now that your dynamic is changing, he’s feeling a lot of guilt about it.”
“Because Kami forbid that I grow up, right?”
“Of course you’re allowed to grow up and want these kinds of things, Bulla,” Marron reasoned. She sighed, trying to find the best words to use. “Goten is just convinced he’s not allowed to want those things with you.”
The bluette’s expression grew somber and pensive. Marron’s insight was indeed valuable, and Bulla knew in her heart that Goten’s vacillating actions were a result of his impeccable integrity. As much as she wanted him to throw all of it out the window, that wasn’t who he was. It was what she admired most about him.
“So,” Bulla said quietly, “how do I convince him he is allowed?”
Marron placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder sympathetically. “If I’m being honest, B, he’s gotta figure that one out for himself,” she explained. “Otherwise, it won’t sink in.”
The heiress pouted, used to getting her way with most things in life. If there was a shoe collection she coveted, she’d buy it. If there was an invention in her brain, she built it. For once in the genius’ eighteen years, there wasn’t anything Bulla could actively do to change her outcome.
Save for wish.
“What if he never does?” Bulla wondered quietly.
She felt Marron’s arms wrap around her in a tight embrace. “Stay positive, B,” Marron encouraged. “You just never know.”
Bulla returned the gesture, grateful for her friend’s sweet nature. As they separated, the heiress nudged the blonde.
“You’re lucky, Mare,” Bulla stated. “The one person you happen to want seems to want you back,” she added with a newfound grin. Bulla had been keen to notice Zasso’s attention towards Marron and it made her happy to see her friend be on the receiving end.
Stunned by the comment, it took a minute for Marron to register that Bulla was talking about the Souljin Ambassador and not her brother. After the initial wave of panic passed, Marron resumed her smiling façade, thinking of more pleasant things.
“Perhaps,” she surmised.
Bulla was about to question her friend, when Pan finally rejoined them. She stepped back and dropped the prior discussion, not wanting to rouse any suspicions.
“So,” Pan started to say, “you two finally decide to rejoin the realm of the living?”
“A lot of big talk from someone who, just days ago, was fighting for her life at breakfast,” Bulla joked back.
“Was not!” Pan insisted, hands on her hips in defiance.
Marron’s laugh rang through the air. “Careful Pan,” she cautioned, “your pants are on fire.”
While their younger friend huffed in protest, both Marron and Bulla continued to laugh at her expense. They weren’t the only ones, however, to take notice of their presence.
“I thought I heard the voice of an angel…”
Marron whipped around to see a small entourage of guards accompanying both Prince Zasso and Prince Toge. All three women quickly bowed their heads. With a genteel nod, Zasso dismissed his attendants, leaving them alone with the Earthling women.
“I confess, I had hoped we’d run into you after our appointment nearby,” Zasso said, smiling at the blonde. “I begged Toge to let us take the long way home through the bazaar.”
“You know how I love to hear begging, brother,” Toge stated in a low voice. His smirk widened when his gilded eyes gazed upon Bulla’s frowning face. Somehow, her defiant stare only seemed to amuse him more.
“Would you two like to join us?” Marron asked, almost oblivious to the tension next to her. Those ocean orbs were fixated solely on the Souljin Ambassador.
“Actually,” Zasso returned, “I was hoping, if it’s not too much trouble of course, to escort you around myself. Assuming these ladies don’t mind me whisking you away?”
“Oh no,” Pan immediately insisted. She gently pushed Marron into the handsome royal, prompting the blonde to redden. “I’m sure Marron would be thrilled to get a personal tour from you!”
“Pan,” Marron whispered, blushing even deeper once Zasso took her hand in his.
“I would be thrilled to have her,” the affable prince grinned. Marron’s blue eyes twinkled at his saccharine tone. His sweetness certainly was hard to refuse.
She turned to Bulla, searching for her approval as well. “Is that okay, Bulla?”
A mischievous look, similar to Pan, graced the heiress’ face. “Absolutely,” she said with a wave of the hand. “You two kids have fun.”
Rolling her eyes, Marron laced her arm around Zasso’s. “I’d love to, Zasso,” she said earnestly. The prince could hardly contain his smile.
“Then let me show you some of my favorite spots,” Zasso returned eagerly. He dipped his head towards the other women. “Thank you both,” the Souljin Ambassador said graciously. “Toge, you’ll ensure these fine young ladies have a safe return?”
Bulla’s heart sank as she saw Marron and Zasso already too far away for her to protest. She edged in their direction but stopped herself. Doing her best to avoid Toge’s unrelenting gaze, Bulla started to meander the various stalls.
“Hi Toge,” Pan greeted to break the silence.
He nodded in response. “Son Pan,” Toge acknowledged. His greeting was quick to Pan; his attention lay elsewhere.
“Princess,” Toge shifted towards the half-Saiyan and brandished a toothy leer. “Radiant as ever.”
Her scowl remained unchanged, and not unnoticed by Pan.
“How nice it was to have you in my arms last night,” Toge continued, “I’ll admit, I was a bit disappointed I didn’t wake up with you in them.”
“Happy to disappoint,” Bulla said sharply.
Toge didn’t balk at the comment. In fact, he appeared entertained by her bite.
“Believe me,” Toge remarked slowly, “you wouldn’t be disappointed.”
Bulla hmphed and returned her attention to the various scarves and shawls at the stand. Ignoring the prince only seemed to egg him on more, however.
“My offer still stands, you know,” he said, leaning over her shoulder. Bulla felt goosebumps trail up her spine, and not the kind she felt whenever she was near Goten.
“If I recall,” Bulla snapped, “I said you’d never get that chance.”
A rare frown appeared on Toge’s face; not unlike the petulant grimace a child told no would make. After a beat, his typical leer reanimated. He pressed against her backside and that same, uneasy feeling Bulla had with him the night before bubbled up again. She silently seethed as he became far too close for comfort.
“You should know I enjoy a challenge, Princess,” Toge murmured. His fingers traced her backside before Bulla yanked herself away.
“Enough,” the younger royal said firmly. “I’d suggest you find another way to entertain yourself, Prince Toge. We’re leaving.”
She grabbed Pan’s hand, who was still in the middle of trying to process the entire exchange. Walking away, Bulla could hear the crunching of footsteps behind them. Someone wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“So tense, Princess,” Toge called after them, “you definitely then are in need of a good fu—”
“Hey! Prince Asshole!”
Pan whipped around to the stunned Toge, shocked to see the reaction from the quarter-Saiyan. “She said no. I don’t know if that word means something different up here but in case it does, it means back off and leave her alone!”
Bulla had to contain a chuckle in her throat as Pan unleashed her fury onto the prince. While she had been prepared to give Toge a piece of her mind, Bulla was more than happy to let Pan have a go at him.
After absorbing her words, Toge regained his mettle and formed an impressed smirk. “Very well, Son Pan,” he stated, “I see we are done for the day.”
He bowed to them both, the spikes of his ebony hair barely inches away. “Should you change your mind though, Princess,” Toge finished in a darker tone. “You know where to find me.”
Bulla was about to yell a response, but Toge was already heading in the opposite direction. She cursed under her breath. In her gut, a sinking feeling told her this would not be the last attempt by the prince.
“What a jerk,” Pan muttered once the coast was clear. She frowned. “Sorry I didn’t intervene earlier,” the quarterling apologized.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Bulla insisted.
“Showed his true colors, at least,” Pan continued. “I really didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” she added protectively.
Bulla smiled at her friend’s defensiveness. “Same,” she agreed, “but I have a feeling you would have knocked his lights out if he hadn’t backed down.”
“No question.”
The two laughed at how quickly Pan’s reply came. “For what it’s worth though, Blue,” she murmured, “I’ve always got your back.”
A sharp pang stung the insides of Bulla’s chest; while Pan’s devotion was touching, it only made harder the secrets she was keeping from her best friend. Maybe if she said something, Pan would be as understanding as she was at that moment. On the other hand, given her friend’s personality, it was hard to conceive a scenario where Pan wasn’t bothered by either Bulla’s secrecy or her desire for Goten. As much as it pained her to stay quiet, Bulla was still trying to make sense of it all. She needed to figure out her own situation before she could even attempt to bring Pan into the fold. Bulla hoped that sooner rather than later, she’d be able to.
“I know,” Bulla replied, a faint strain accompanying her tone. She squeezed her friend’s hand in thanks.
Beaming, Pan returned the squeeze. Her eyes darted to a section of the bazaar they had yet to explore. “Say,” she began, “since Toge’s gone, what do you say we check out the rest of this place?”
“This side of you is so new, Pan!” Bulla exclaimed with glee. Her eyes narrowed mischievously. “I’ve been trying to get you interested in shopping for years. What’s changed?”
Pan crimsoned, and immediately looked away. “Just…looking for souvenirs,” she insisted, making a beeline to the next available booth. The bag in her hand from the prior boutique was clear and Bulla could make out the silhouette of a dress. Laughing to herself, the heiress shook her head in amusement.
Guess she wasn’t the only one growing up.
-=-=-=-
“Vegeta, can I ask you a question?”
The Saiyan Prince was not expecting company on the barracks wall, especially not the son of his longtime rival. Perspiration trickled down his brow, having just finished a workout not long before. It was the second workout of the day if the early morning was also to be counted. Without turning around, he kept his arms folded and focused across the castle yard. “You have the annoying habit of disturbing my solitude, Goten,” he said derisively. “Twice in one week, at that,” Vegeta scoffed.
Goten shyly stood at a distance from the other Saiyan man, not wanting to irk him any further. “I’ll be quick,” he promised. Vegeta produced an annoyed click of his tongue, but otherwise, did not object.
“What is it, then?”
His stern gaze only made Goten more nervous, but the younger halfling resolved to get his questions answered.
“Can…well…can our demeanor change due to moonlight?”
This caught Vegeta off guard; his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What brought that on?” the prince questioned.
“Well, maybe I’m imagining things, but,” Goten didn’t even know how to explain himself. He couldn’t just blurt out the fantasy that lingered in his brain regarding Vegeta’s only daughter. No, he had to phrase it innocuously. “I’ve been feeling more…Saiyan, I guess, since coming here.”
“How so?”
“Like,” he paused again, “like I’m more in tune with that side of me compared to usual I guess? My sense of smell, even my desire to train and fight, it just seems amplified here. I didn’t know if it was because Souljin had two moons.”
Vegeta’s lips creased to the side of his face. “You were born without a tail,” he said plainly, “moonlight would really only influence you if you had one and could transform. The Souljins are an anomaly on that front. They have no access to the Oozaru state.”
“Is that the sole effect? Just the ability to become Oozaru?”
“Yes,” Vegeta responded. “Why did you suspect moonlight of all things?” he wondered.
“Seemed to be the only major difference,” Goten replied, “plus, I remember some of your stories about the transformation. It got me thinking.”
His counterpart’s eyebrows furrowed, mind deep in thought. “Could just be the product of the environment,” Vegeta surmised, “even diluted, Souljins seem to keep a handful of old Saiyan customs.”
“Maybe,” Goten agreed warily. He still had suspicions, but didn’t know how else to voice them without revealing the bulk of it came about around Bulla.
Vegeta released an amused scoff. “You seem distressed by this, boy,” he chided.
“Not distressed. More…confused than anything?”
“I wouldn’t see it as a negative,” Vegeta said with a flick of his wrist. “I guess I should appreciate that even one of you hybrids has some semblance of Saiyan genetics working.”
Goten assumed this was as close to a compliment as he could expect from Vegeta. His thinned mouth turned upwards. “I guess,” he replied with a smile.
A thrum of silence passed before Vegeta turned his attention towards the vast water gardens on the other side of the barrack’s wall. The roar of the mountain’s waterfall reverberated throughout, filling the air with a thunderous rumbling. Goten observed the older man, sensing a small shift in mood from the earlier moment they shared. Though his demeanor was still calm, and his ki controlled as best he could, inside his heart rate tripled as Vegeta changed the subject.
“Did you enjoy the ball…”
The Saiyan Prince did not pose this as a question so much as an expectation. The younger halfling shifted in place. Was Vegeta aware of what had occurred? It unsettled him deeply but if there was one thing he had learned, keeping his nerve intact around the pureblood was necessary.
“It was…nice,” Goten answered simply. He tried to keep it vague. “If you like that sort of thing, I guess.”
“I don’t.”
The sharpness of his tone was reminiscent of when the prince was extra agitated. Goten started to tap his foot before regaining control of the body part. He could not show any anxiousness.
“Tell me truthfully, Goten,” Vegeta began, “that prince Bulla danced with. Your ki went wild during the ball. Why is that?”
Goten thought of his response for a moment, wondering exactly what to reveal. Suddenly, the vague memory that sprouted earlier in the day sprung to mind. His gentle smile revealed a tenderness that couldn’t be faked. “A long time ago, I promised you I’d always protect Bulla,” the younger demi-Saiyan said softly. “Toge isn’t exactly someone I trust with her,” he finished.
Vegeta looked almost amused. “One way to put it,” he muttered under his breath. Clearing his throat, the older man continued. “Still, you’re awfully devoted to a promise you made when you were eleven.”
Not breaking eye contact, the halfling made sure to be steady with his tone. “Your family is like my family, Vegeta,” the hybrid commented, “I’d do anything to keep them safe. Besides…”
He turned his head thoughtfully, a small smile coming to fruition.
“I always keep my promises,” Goten said earnestly.
Vegeta tightened his jaw in observation as he analyzed the younger Saiyan’s face. Closing his eyes, the prince seemed to accept the answer Goten had given. “I suppose you do,” Vegeta responded.
As Vegeta started to head towards the direction of the stairs, Goten let out a quiet sigh of relief. His breath caught in his throat, however, when the unexpected grip of the Saiyan Prince seized his wrist. Goten felt it stiffen, but remained calm; attempting to not rouse any suspicion. He could hear the intense huff of air Vegeta took before speaking.
“Your place, boy,” the prince added softly, “you remember where that is?”
Goten’s blood ran cold at the intimidating question. He wet his lips in an attempt to fix his dry mouth. Much like his time with Vegeta on the ship, Goten made sure to not waver his gaze. It was the same dark stare Vegeta gave him at the ball. The same eyes that demanded truth.
Beneath you. Beneath her. Low-Class. Third-Class. Take your pick.
“It’s still being determined,” Goten answered back. He didn’t know what madness possessed him to answer that way, but somehow, the words fell out. The comment seemed to surprise Vegeta, who was expecting something far more subservient. And yet, the Saiyan Prince did not seem to mind so much.
“Clever,” Vegeta praised. His gaze darkened. “Perhaps too clever, Third-Class.”
The halfling did his best to hide the nervousness inside. “Who me? Kakarot’s son?” Goten sarcastically teased. Even Vegeta held a small chuckle in his throat.
“Your clown father aside,” Vegeta resumed, “you and I know you’re smarter than you let on.”
Goten didn’t have time to appreciate the compliment. Trying to not falter or wince, the demi-Saiyan remained stone-faced as Vegeta’s grip tightened. The royal leaned in to utter one more statement. “And if you are as smart as I believe, Goten,” he added obscurely, “you’ll do well to remember where that is.”
He released the younger man’s wrist as he continued up the stairwell. The clacking of his boots hitting the concrete echoed in the warm, Souljin air. Goten rubbed the pulsating carpal as he stared at its reddened coloring. Vegeta didn’t spare any delicacy with his iron grip.
“Where is that, Vegeta?” the hybrid wondered, still focused on his sore wrist. He probably should have left well enough alone, but the challenge stirred something inside. The younger man wanted to hear it from Vegeta himself. He, too, was also keeping his cards close to his chest and speaking in vague terms. If Vegeta truly had an objection, Goten needed to know.
Vegeta paused; the question had been unexpected. While he didn’t rotate back to answer, Goten heard the prince’s gravel-toned timbre resonant like a tympanum.
“It’s not my job to remind you, brat,” he said, his usual annoyed tone returning. “Besides,” Vegeta continued as he resumed his climb up the stairs. “Should you ever give me a reason to, you won’t like what comes next.”
And there it was.
Part of Goten had considered going to Vegeta directly to tell him what was going on with Bulla. Perhaps if he pleaded, nay, implored the gruff Saiyan pureblood, maybe he could have persuaded him. Surely, Vegeta was not so far beyond reach? But his decisive response, plus knowing what he knew about the Saiyan Prince after all these years, Goten realized this was a likely lost cause.
Some battles just could not be won.
“Noted,” Goten replied quietly.
He wasn’t sure if Vegeta had even heard the response; the Saiyan was already resuming his trek back inside the palace, and Goten was still looking at his wrist with great interest. The black and blue bruise beginning to form only made him think of the one person he had just been essentially instructed to pay no mind to.
-=-=-=-
Trunks surprisingly felt good as he left his first training lesson. Kusa hadn’t been easy on him, that much was clear, but even so, Trunks came out of the session in one piece. Despite the strain of the prior evening weighing heavily on him, the prince decided to try to put that energy towards something productive. He still had a long way to go, but at least he was one step closer.
As Trunks perused the maze in the water gardens on his walk back to the palace, he took note of its splendor. Having been fairly distracted since his arrival, the lavender-haired man realized he hadn’t given much thought to his surroundings. It was a beautiful planet, he had to admit. Part of him had been resistant to anything Souljin given his disregard for a certain ambassador. Still, even Trunks could not deny the mesmeric atmosphere.
Though initially he passed a few various palace staff members and court attendants, the gardens were fairly quiet. As he approached the edge of the maze near the gazebos, he figured he must have been the only one in that section.
Until, the sound that made him feel a strange fluttering in his stomach every time he heard it, cascaded past his ears.
He knew Marron’s laugh anywhere.
Trunks stopped in his tracks, almost forsaking her instructions to leave her alone and run to her. But, just as his feet picked up to seek her out, another familiar noise permeated the air.
“Oh Marron, your words sting! I was merely a child when that happened.”
Trunks peeked around the corner of the hedge maze to reveal both Marron and Zasso walking in tandem, laughing together. His eyes widened at the sight; from what he recalled of her earlier plans, Trunks thought Marron was spending the day with his sister and Pan. Seeing her alone with Zasso certainly took the wind out of his sails, especially given the previous night. Her precious giggling only made the invisible wound in his chest burn.
“Forgive me!” Marron returned to Zasso, chortling still. “You just don’t seem the type to go pantsless in the middle of an important ceremony.”
“In all fairness,” Zasso replied, “it was a dare from Toge. It was well worth the embarrassment to get several of his toys.”
Marron only laughed harder. “I’ll be sure to remember that in case I need anything from you,” the pretty blonde chuckled.
Trunks continued to hide around the corner of the hedge, keeping his ki low and undetectable. It was hard to do when his heart raced so fervently. The speed increased tenfold when he observed Prince Zasso inch towards the petite woman, feeling far more comfortable with standing close to her.
“Your laugh could soothe even the hardest of hearts, I dare say,” Zasso whispered gently. His golden eyes watched Marron’s face intently. She unleashed a tiny breath when the Souljin Ambassador reached to tuck several strands of hair behind her ear. Her face reddened at the contact, and a flinch of pain appeared before dissipating once more.
“Not all, Your Grace.”
Ouch.
The much taller man pulled back for a second to analyze her expression. “I’ve been hesitant to ask you myself,” he started to say, “but forgive my curiosity. Are you referring to Prince Trunks?”
Behind the bush, Trunks’ cobalt eyes grew to the size of lemons. How dare he ask! Yet, even so, Trunks himself was curious to know how she’d respond.
Marron paused before shifting her body over the soribashi. Her jaw clenched, and the blonde did her best to not seem too bothered by the comment. Trunks knew her tells well enough to know that she was deep in thought. Zasso seemed to also pick up on this.
“Lady Marron?”
A weak smile formed on her pale face. “Let’s not talk about Trunks,” she insisted with a wave of hand. “Doesn’t matter.”
Ouch again.
Zasso joined her over the railing. “I wouldn’t dream of making you discuss something you aren’t comfortable with,” the Souljin man responded, “but if you need an ear, I’m here.”
His kind words caused Marron to slowly increase the size of her smile. “Your nature is refreshing,” she said. “You’re too kind to me, Zasso.”
It was his turn to chuckle. “You said that last night as well, Lady Marron.”
“Did I?” she wondered absentmindedly. The entire night was simultaneously blurry and clear as day.
“Any time you speak, it leaves an imprint on my soul.”
Trunks used every ounce of restraint within him to not unleash the loudest groan of his life, all while his eyes rolled with annoyance.
“Zasso,” Marron began again, feeling trepidation at the fact that not even a day ago, she spent the night with another man in her room. If he knew, surely the handsome man beside her would want nothing to do with her. Marron sighed with a heaviness all her own. “You don’t want someone like me,” she stated, the guilt palpable.
The Souljin Prince inched over to her side even closer. “I told you before, you’re wonderful,” Zasso said with complete assurance.
Her face fell. “I’m not as wonderful as you may think,” she answered with sorrow.
“Rubbish,” he insisted all too quickly.
“But Zasso…”
“Marron, we haven’t known each other very long, but you’ve managed to capture my attention more than any other woman I’ve met. You’re kind, inquisitive, lovely…everything a man could want. I’d say that makes you rather remarkable.”
Both Marron and Trunks, though positioned in different areas, listened to the Souljin Ambassador with undivided focus.
“I have spent many years choosing duty over everything,” Prince Zasso continued. He turned up towards the dying sun overhead before returning his attention to Marron. “Over every major decision, and every little one as well. Years in isolation made it all the harder to feel truly free and happy. However, as luck would have it, only when I did indeed set foot off the planet, was my joy renewed. What kismet to come across your path.”
Marron could not contain the breath that left her lungs when his hand placed itself on her cheek. In his golden irises, she saw every fleck of honey and citrine. “Zasso,” she barely could whisper.
Trunks glanced at the ground, attempting to look away, but part of him needed to see where this was all going. In spite of the pain, he raised his head.
“I don’t want to waste my chance to pursue something that brings me joy,” Zasso strummed his fingers against Marron’s supple skin. He took a reverent breath. “How could something so beautiful,” the ambassador began to say, “exist in the universe all this time without me knowing?”
His companion didn’t have time to accept or reject the flattery; the Souljin Prince boldly dipped his head to reach her ever-parting lips.
Marron froze in place when Zasso kissed her. She had not expected him to finally make a move, nor had she expected his lips to feel so…nice.
Dropping her guard, Marron allowed herself to lean into the gesture. Pressing her mouth against the handsome Souljin man, Marron tried to bury any guilt that lay dormant from the previous evening. How could she worry about that when she was in the arms of someone who was so clear about how he felt?
Zasso enveloped the much smaller woman into his arms, and Marron’s heart fluttered at how quickly he deepened the kiss. His fingers cupped her cheeks, bringing them closer. She returned the intensity, letting him guide them both. The smell of amber and mahogany potent amidst her nostrils.
Unbeknownst to the Souljin Prince and his lady, they had a silent observer. Their quiet audience stood in place, a painful gnawing inside his chest, akin to a thousand daggers piercing the skin, as he watched with tired eyes. The usually proud son of Vegeta felt anything but in that moment.
As his grip loosened from the hedge maze, his arm fell to the side in defeat. Trunks finally tore away from the sight, unable to watch any further. He thought after the previous night, things couldn’t get any worse.
How wrong he was.
-=-=-=-
Much like Bulla a couple nights before, it was Goten’s turn to situate himself against one of the grand, marbled columns in the hallway leading to the sleeping quarters. As moonlight started to grace the purple sky above, that in-between of dusk and twilight, he remained transfixed. With the two moons full and powerful, Goten wondered if his earlier hypothesis still held any merit. Pulling his sleeve up, his wrist was carrying the remnants of his earlier encounter with Vegeta. He sighed; the mark would be a staunch reminder to him so long as it remained.
“Hey, stranger.”
Immediately, Goten yanked his sleeve back down to cover the bruise. Bulla held several colorful shopping bags, reminding him that the girls were out at the bazaar for the day. It took him a minute to regain his composure, realizing this was the first time he saw Bulla since he dipped out of her room.
“Hey,” he returned quietly.
Bulla placed her bags down and leaned against the column alongside him. “Alright if I join you?” she questioned.
He blinked in astonishment. “Oh…I mean…of course,” he scrambled to say. The nerves hit him, accompanied by that dark feeling of shame lying at the bottom of his gut.
She inched closer, resting her head on his arm and snaking his hand in hers. Goten was too stunned to reject the action.
“How was your day at the baz—”
“Not what I wanted to talk about,” Bulla returned, gently tracing circles with her thumb.
Goten lowered his head. “Bulla,” he whispered.
“You had me worried about you last night,” she confessed sweetly. Turning her head to observe him with her lustrous, blue eyes, the heiress widened her glance. The guilt multiplied in his stomach. Her concern felt so unearned.
“Sorry, B-Chan,” he said. There was a lump in his throat as he spoke.
Bulla was right next to him, and yet she felt miles away. “Goten,” she began again, “you didn’t do anything wrong.”
The timbre in which she spoke was so sentimental, so understanding. Goten glanced back at his now covered wrist. Bulla’s fingers were just beneath, oblivious to the mark her father left earlier. Goten reluctantly released her grasp.
“I should probably head back to my room,” he said, starting to drift from her. The princess balked at the reaction, looking dumbfounded in his attempt to walk away. She started to glare at his backside.
“Is this what it’s always going to be?” Bulla wondered sadly. “You and me having moments, and those moments not meaning anything?”
Her words paused his movements, and Goten twisted himself to answer. “They do mean something, B,” Goten murmured, “you mean something.”
“You keep saying that,” the heiress responded. Teal orbs darted down to the tile. “I thought we finally had a breakthrough,” she whispered, her voice frail.
Goten sighed. “I’m sorry,” he spoke earnestly, “it hit me a little too late how unfair it was to act on those impulses. After everything you told me about Toge and others…I should have been more cognizant.”
“Shouldn’t that be my call?” Bulla said, a bit exhausted with the conversation.
He expanded his stare. “Bulla,” Goten responded, “I—”
“Goten,” she said firmly, “last night. Be honest. Why did you come to my room?”
Goten looked at her determined gape and lacked the words. He told her the night before that he had to see her, that he couldn’t get his mind off of her. But, Goten also knew, his intentions went far deeper than just that. How could he tell her that he wanted to feel her lips on him again? To have their tongues dance like old partners on the ballroom floor? To sample her skin, even the skin that was unexposed to the world. That he wanted to—
Stop.
As the elder hybrid remained stuck in his head, Bulla grew tired of his lack of response. She clicked her tongue and sighed.
“Did you want to…be with me?”
“Be with you…?”
“Yeah.”
“In…what way?”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Sex, Goten!” Bulla shouted, losing patience. “Coitus! Knocking boots! Whatever the hell you want to call it.”
“Bulla!”
Footsteps down the hall indicated they weren’t alone. In a panic, he put his hand over her mouth, closing the gap between them. As a palace servant walked by, the two stepped back to attempt to appear innocuous, with Goten removing his hand. The older woman smiled as the two hybrids looked awkwardly suspicious, but she didn’t seem to notice. Once she had entered a new wing, Goten sighed as Bulla only glowered.
“Sure, scream it for the whole palace to hear,” he hissed under his breath.
“Well maybe if you weren’t walking on eggshells about it, I wouldn’t have to,” she retorted with a glare.
He scoffed. “It doesn’t matter, Bulla,” Goten continued, “whatever I felt or thought last night, was in the heat of the moment. I realized I pushed it too far and that was unfair to you.”
Blue eyes broadened, tinged with hurt. “You know what’s really unfair, Goten?” she began to say. A heavy sigh followed the statement. “You keep acting like you need to protect me from everything,” Bulla bemoaned. “I know you’ve been that way most of my life, but I can make my own choices.”
She stepped closer, her heartbeat pounding but her resolve strong. Her eyes tinged with a flicker of lidded desire. “Goten,” Bulla whispered more softly, “you weren’t the one controlling my hands last night.”
As she said this, her palm pressed just to the side of where her hand had been the prior evening. Goten’s look of shock only made her smirk. “You may have kissed me,” Bulla murmured, “but I kissed you back. Multiple times.”
“Bulla…”
“I let you in my room, my bed…with your hands underneath my slip, mind you.”
His chest tightened, recalling her creamy skin and pure, white nightie. Her softness and her desire. “I shouldn’t have done that, B,” Goten said as she frowned.
“Well, you did,” she answered back. “And I wanted you to! I still want you to.”
The princess leaned in, her face nearly touching his. Goten held his breath as he analyzed what she would do next. “You don’t even know,” Bulla said, a small smile of victory forming on her face. “Not that you would, I never told you…” she continued mysteriously. The older man gulped where he stood.
“Know what?” Goten asked before his better judgment could tell him not to.
Her eyes grew coquettish. She had him right where she wanted him. “What I think about in the shower,” Bulla led, inching her hand closer to his inner thigh. “When I touch myself,” her voice became low and amorous.
His face whitened. “When…you…”
Bulla couldn’t help but giggle; he looked so nervous when he said that. “Touch myself,” she whispered as her nose nearly grazed him. Smirking, the heiress tapped her digits in place on his thigh. “With my fingers,” Bulla added, quieter than before.
Inhaling sharply, Goten felt his mouth go dry.
She placed her lips near his left ear, faking confidence as best she could. “You know what I think about?” Bulla asked once more. Not waiting for his answer, she pressed on. “Your fingers, touching me there, instead,” the princess said, taking his palm in hers.
“Bulla,” Goten faltered, his voice as shaky as his hand.
She guided him to her, the heiress’ free hand gripping his collar with all the strength she possessed. Before Goten could protest, their mouths reunited with Bulla showcasing her natural talent. Given their extensive practicing the night before, he shouldn’t have been surprised. The Son man was aware the genius attached to him was a fast learner, but even he was astonished by her boldness.
As she distracted the other demi-Saiyan with her newfound prowess, Bulla attempted to bring the hand entwined in hers towards another part of her body. She opened her thighs more, her mini-skirt not leaving much to the imagination. The heiress directed him in between her legs where the coolness of the night had not yet made its way to. She heard him gasp when the warmth of her started to pulsate, inches from her maidenhood.
“It’s okay, Goten,” she insisted in a quiet whisper. “I want you to.”
“Bulla, no.”
He used extra force, all he had within him, to pull himself away from her. Despite his best attempt, Goten’s hand couldn’t stop trembling. “Are you nuts?” he said, the sweat on his back dripping down along with his remorse. “What if someone saw?”
“I don’t care about that, Goten,” she huffed, “whatever it takes to get you to finally realize that I want you. I’m ready for this.”
“You don’t realize what you’re saying.”
“But Goten—”
“No, Bulla. I know what I’m talking about.”
Bulla dug in her heels at the rejection, fuming in place.
“Why does everyone else feel like they get to tell me when I’m ready for things?” she lamented, throwing her hands up. “My dad, my brother, now you !” the heiress complained. She unleashed a frustrated groan. “I thought you of all people would understand! And you’re over here acting like you know better than me.”
“Like it or not, Bulla,” Goten scolded, “I do have a bit more expertise in this area.”
“Believe me, I know,” she spat, the hurt not remotely hidden in her tone. Her eyes dashed towards the ground. “I know,” Bulla added sadly.
Goten instantly regretted how he phrased his previous comment. “Bulla,” he began but she cut him off.
She pivoted towards the staircase’s edge, the view from the grand hallway just as spectacular as the terrace below. Facing away from him, it was easier to speak her mind.
“Do you know how hard it was for me?” Bulla said, leaning over the rail. She chuckled bitterly. “Having to overhear conversations between you and my brother; you guys swapping stories about hookups. Or overhear whenever you got back with an ex,” her eyes misted as she spoke.
“I—”
Bulla didn’t let him finish.
“Pretending I wasn’t crying in my room whenever you’d come and say hi. Acting like that stuff never bothered me,” Bulla continued. Her head dipped further down. “But it did,” she revealed, “and the worst part was you never picked up on it.”
“Bulla,” he repeated, “you were…”
His heart sank at the woman in front of him. He could say with full confidence he never thought of her until this past year in that regard, but knowing she desired to be seen, even at that young age, still tore at his chest.
“You were not an option for me.”
It was the truth, yes, but Goten saw the pain his words inflicted upon the princess. No matter how appropriate he had been with her all those years ago, it didn’t change how she felt.
She trembled, attempting to remain strong, but the subtle quiver of her bottom lip indicated otherwise.
“You were the only option for me, Goten.”
His mouth parted as she said those words. He knew the torch she held for him burned brightly. It had done so ever since she was in her youth. To him, it was almost a right of passage, the younger sister setting her sights on the older brother’s best friend. Goten’s mind drifted to that same memory he had earlier in the day of how desperately her newborn self reached for him. In some way, Bulla had always sought him out. Again, he thought this was mere brotherly love, but the cadence of her tone, the stone-faced determination she exuded…it all indicated just how truthful that statement was.
And just how wrong Goten was about her feelings for him.
“I—”
He grew silent once more. “I had no idea you felt that strongly,” Goten whispered.
Releasing herself from the railing, Bulla kept her eyes downwards. “Guess now you do,” she continued with a firmer tone. Her body breezed forward, grabbing her bags and passing the still stunned older Saiyan.
“Bulla—”
“We’re overdue for a spar,” Bulla added flatly. The bluette didn’t even crane her head back as she started to canter down the hall. “Don’t forget Son Ten,” she said, but without the usual playfulness whenever she called him that. “You still owe me. I don’t want to lose any progress.”
The terser timbre saddened Goten, though he understood it. He tried to be pragmatic in his reply.
“Right,” he nodded. Goten took a deep breath to regain himself. Unsure what the right solution was, he decided to let Bulla have some time to cool down. “Give me a couple days, Bulla.”
By the way she paused her ardent stride, he could tell that was not the path he should have taken.
“No,” she called back, turning her head before she reached the royal wing. “Tomorrow afternoon. We can use one of the empty parts of the barracks. Don’t even think of skipping.”
The proud princess didn’t wait for his response when she vanished through the giant doors, closing them with great force. Goten gulped.
Hell hath no fury like a Saiyan woman scorned.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
Chapter 12 and we’ve delveeeeeed into some interesting situations. Poor Trunks! Poor Goten! Poor Bulla! What shall become of our heroes?
Chapter 13: Bulla’s frustration reaches a boiling point and takes it out on Goten (but where there’s smoke, there’s fire) Trunks tries to bury his own frustrations in training, as well as peek in on Vegeta learning about Souljin courtly intrigue.
For always, thank you dear readers <3
-SonChan
Chapter 14: Chapter 13: If I Burned
Summary:
Bulla’s frustration reaches a boiling point and takes it out on Goten (but where there’s smoke, there’s fire) Trunks tries to bury his own frustrations in training, as well as a peek in on Vegeta learning about Souljin courtly intrigue.
Notes:
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
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
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 the 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 Crown Prince 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 Crown Prince 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 wicked grin 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 the 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.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
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
Chapter 15: Chapter 14: Done Running
Summary:
Chapter 14: Hinoki gives Bulla hope and one last idea on winning over Goten. An oasis, a declaration, and a decision.
Notes:
Disclaimers: I do not own DBZ/GT, Souljin’s name belongs to Majin_Angel_Chan but details and other characters (aside from Kail) are mine!
Author’s Note: We’ve officially reached the tipping point!! What a journey it’s been so far. I know I give playlist recommendations for each chapter, but especially this one, I would highly recommend listening to certain songs during specific moments. Without spoiling too much, “With You” should be during a particular moment with a waterfall, and “Apocalypse” will be the last scene of the chapter.
Playlist Recommendations: somewhere in the middle, Electric, With You, Running, Apocalypse
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 14: Done Running
“Princess? Oh Princess Bulla?”
A rapping knock brought Bulla out from her groggy slumber near her balcony window. Disoriented from sleeping on the floor, the heiress could feel her head heavy with stupor. It took her a moment to assess where she woke, forgetting why she was located somewhere other than her bed, until the previous night came back to her.
“Coming,” she called out, a yawn leaving her throat shortly after. Bulla stood on her legs, wobbling from the uncomfortable position she had been in. Finding her footing, the princess tightened her robe to approach the door.
Cracking it ajar, Bulla poked her head out to see the Souljin Princess standing outside with a rolling cart of what smelled to be food underneath a sleek, silver tin. Off to the side were her handmaidens putting the finishing touches on the tray.
“Hinoki?” Bulla asked, bewildered. She blushed as she fastened the ribbon on her robe more, not wanting to look disheveled in front of the other royal.
“Good morning, Princess Bulla,” Hinoki beamed. “I’ve brought you something,” she said, gesturing away to her handmaidens in order for the two to have some privacy. Once left alone, Hinoki entered the room with the cart. The pureblood Soulan situated things near the table and chairs before unveiling the food. Filled with exotic fruits and cheese, the spread made Bulla’s Saiyan stomach growl. She tried her darndest to pretend the noise could only be heard by her.
“Please, eat!” Hinoki insisted.
Bulla didn’t need to be told twice before digging in. Trying to remain dignified, the pace at which she ate was normal, but unending. In between bites, Bulla dabbed her mouth as she continued to fill her plate.
“I wasn’t expecting all this,” the younger woman told Hinoki, who only showcased her brilliant smile.
“Knowing how easily hunger can affect a Saiyan, I was concerned when I did not see you at breakfast this morning,” Hinoki explained sweetly.
Gulping down hard, Bulla felt the beginning stages of guilt creep in. “You’ve been so kind to me,” Bulla murmured, “I feel a bit unworthy of it, truthfully.”
“Nonsense,” Hinoki assured. “You’ve no idea the good you are doing just by visiting. I haven’t seen King Engei this spirited in a long time.”
Unsure exactly how much she had to do with that herself, Bulla began to frown. “Still,” she trailed off.
“I like you a lot, Bulla,” Hinoki continued genuinely. “It’s been hard to find good female friends, given my rank as a princess. Some people like to take advantage of my position, which I’m sure you can relate to.”
Even though her royal pedigree meant little on Earth, Bulla’s status as a Briefs elevated her to social heights most would never see. She had her own share of disappointment with friends who desired her notoriety or wealth, as well as guys who feigned interest for the same reasons. It made her cling to her childhood companions in the Z Gang all the more. They saw her for who she was.
He saw her for who she really was.
A flutter in her heart trumpeted on. The heiress nodded in understanding. “I can,” she shared freely.
The comment prompted Hinoki to beam. “I confess, there is also another reason,” the Soulan woman added.
“Oh?”
“I had been thinking about what you said the other night,” Hinoki said, sitting now at the edge of Bulla’s bed. She patted the spot next to her and Bulla joined the Souljin royal. “You claimed Son Goten was hesitant to be with you and I am curious as to why,” she added plainly. “He seemed quite taken at the ball.”
The other princess sighed. “He thinks it wouldn’t be right to be together,”
“How so?”
Bulla cocked an eyebrow. “I’m surprised the age difference didn’t tip you off right away,” she responded, thinking the obvious.
The Princess-Consort returned a smile. “You Saiyans all practically have blessed genetics,” she complimented. “If I didn’t know your father was your father, I’d say he was an older brother to you. Appearances can be deceiving.”
“Looks don’t change the years on the calendar, however.”
“What is the length? Ten years?”
“Eleven.” Bulla felt defeated as she answered yet Hinoki looked at her, undeterred.
“I’ve seen much starker differences, Princess,” she added, “surely, so has Son Goten.”
“My grandparents for one,” Bulla responded, thinking of how loving those two had been their entire lives. Panchy was younger (though Bulla never truly knew her grandmother’s exact age) but just as happy with Dr. Briefs, more than a man half his age.
“King Engei was also quite a number of years older than Queen Juhi,” Hinoki added, “I never had the privilege of meeting the queen, sadly. From what I’ve heard, however, they had a very loving marriage. He never remarried.”
Bulla recalled her walk with King Engei and how taken he seemed to be with his late wife. That sort of devotion was plain to see, even years later.
“Kusa and myself are about eight years apart,” Hinoki continued.
The reveal surprised Bulla as her eyebrows perched up. “I didn’t realize it was that much,” the heiress retorted.
Her companion beamed. “You may have noticed my husband is, well, rather stoic to say the least,” Hinoki said with a wry grin. Bulla returned the same look.
“Quite,” the other princess said in agreement.
“Part of his charm, I suppose…his lack of it,” the Princess-Consort chuckled. “Though firm, deep down, he is rather empathetic. He doesn’t like to make a big fuss or show about things, never has.”
“Before Kusa and I were engaged, he was betrothed to a different woman, Lady Ume. Quiet girl, more so than Kusa if you can believe, and the match was arranged by King Engei himself. Kusa had failed to choose any sort of option for a mate and since he was past his third decennium, Engei wanted to ensure the means for an heir would be procured, especially from another prominent Saiyan line. Naturally, Kusa has always been obedient so he went along with it, but sweet Ume was…”
She trailed off, trying very hard not to be unkind.
“Ume wasn’t the most worldly, nor was she very well-read. Nice girl, but anyone could see it was a poor match. Around the same time, I had started to attend court and my father was keen on making a match for me with Prince Toge.”
Bulla balked at the notion, recoiling the instant Toge’s name was uttered. Princess Hinoki couldn’t help but scrunch her nose in agreement.
“I had the same reaction,” she said teasingly. Looking at the ceiling, Hinoki’s expression grew pensive. “He’s a handsome man,” she began, “but with such an ugly heart.”
Realizing she may have been a bit too candid, the Princess-Consort grimaced. “Ah forgive me, Princess Bulla, I do not wish to sound cruel,” the pureblood Soulan apologized.
“Cruel is not a word I would associate with you, Hinoki,” Bulla said earnestly.
Hinoki smiled. “Toge is simply not a man suited for marriage, nor am I a woman suited for a loveless one. Before the betrothal could be official, I found myself spending more time in one place I knew Toge would never venture…the library.”
It took everything within Bulla to contain her amusement to a single, hard chortle. Hinoki also seemed to be tickled at the thought.
“Thankfully, my notion was correct. It was there that I would run into Kusa on his own, quietly reading in one of many private nooks. Now, even I could see he didn’t want to be bothered, but…”—a mischievous flicker flashed in her eyes—“I noticed he was reading one of my favorite histories and had to say something.”
Bulla became even more curious. “How did that go?”
“Not well, initially,” Hinoki laughed back. “I don’t think he believed me until I started reciting them by heart. That caught his attention, although, I’m sure my dress helped.”
The younger princess had fun imagining the scenario of the serious Kusa and the light-hearted Hinoki getting better acquainted. Her attention was torn when Hinoki resumed speaking.
“Soon enough, we moved from the library to other locations. We would share leisurely strolls in the water gardens together, discussing a variety of topics. These walks were friendly in nature, but of course, the mood of those gardens is certainly romantic.”
A faint blush crept up on Bulla’s cheeks as she remembered her own romantic stroll there with Goten. Though she couldn’t prove it, Hinoki’s expression seemed to indicate she knew what Bulla was thinking about. The Souljin Princess continued.
“I would challenge him, question his opinion on books and politics. It worried me that perhaps I was overstepping, but I think Kusa was rather taken with my audacity,” she chucked. “As heir to the throne, very few had ever pushed back on him and I think he appreciated someone treating him as a man as opposed to the future king.”
Hinoki paused as she reflected fondly on her memories. “Truth be told,” she added, “it was quite easy to fall for him. I remember once I told Kusa how I had been trying to find supplies for a local shelter but was having difficulty. Without saying a word to me, the very next day, the shelter was stocked to the nines. He never took credit, but I knew he was behind it.”
It was plain to see the affection Hinoki held for her husband in every word. Bulla clutched a pillow tightly, shifting onto her stomach and swaying her feet in the air, as if the two were gal pals sharing hot gossip at a sleepover.
“Did he call off his engagement to Ume?”
“Not quite…”
Bulla’s eyes widened with intrigue. She wondered what exactly the other princess meant, but she didn’t have to wait long to find out.
“Despite my best attempts, Kusa did not seem to pick up on my admiration for him. One day, I confronted him with how I felt and he very respectfully turned me down. It was clear he intended to honor his commitment to Ume. A man of his word and all that, he said.”
“Noble of him,” Bulla remarked.
“Kusa, as long as I’ve known him, always wants to do the ‘right’ thing,” Hinoki continued. “Even at the expense of his own happiness.”
Sounded very much like someone Bulla knew, too.
With a sip of tea, Hinoki’s golden eyes twinkled. “Needless to say, I had to take matters into my own hands,” Hinoki explained.
The halfling blinked. “Meaning?”
Hinoki’s smile grew coy as she looked away before resuming eye contact. The pureblood did not need to elaborate for Bulla to understand what she meant.
“Oh.”
“Afterwards,” Hinoki resumed, as if nothing at all had been revealed. “Kusa swiftly called things off. Turns out, Ume was beside herself with glee, as she too, had someone else in mind. I’d like to think it worked out well for everyone involved.”
With the older princess smiling down at her, Bulla was at ease knowing her tale had a happy ending at least. However, doubt festered in her gut, making the heiress unsure if she would also be so lucky. She clutched the pillow underneath her more tightly.
“Hinoki…I…”
“What, my dear?”
Bulla blushed as she retreated her view from Hinoki’s line of sight, instead opting for the ground. “I am not…” she trailed off, uncertain. A heavy sigh left her lungs. “Experienced in those matters,” Bulla confessed to the other princess.
Caressing the other girl’s shoulder, Hinoki gave a comforting smile. “Truth be told,” the Soulan spoke, “neither was I.”
That made Bulla feel a tiny bit of relief. “I’ve tried to…well, go that route,” she continued, “but, even when I show interest, he seems to pull away. I’m just not sure what else I can do.”
Hinoki appeared pensive; deep in thought on how to respond to the younger woman’s predicament. When the spark of an idea seemed to form, a sweet grin graced her face. The royal’s hand found Bulla’s own as she squeezed tight. “Noble men will always choose to be noble, Princess,” Hinoki said. “But even so,” she added slyly, “they are still men.”
Men.
The thought of Goten and his manhood pressed against her made Bulla a bit hot under the collar. Her neck ached with the memory of his lips. It was then and there she remembered that he was that way, the way a man needs a woman, solely for her . He could try to deny it, but his body did not lie. She knew that, and Bulla believed Goten knew it, too. Perhaps, all was not lost. He would need just a tad more cajoling in order to fully embrace those desires. She was resourceful enough to think of something that would appease to his more primal urges. But, the interruption they faced in the barracks came to mind.
“Without true privacy, that may be hard to accomplish,” Bulla pointed out.
The auburn-haired woman put her fist to her chin, deep in thought. “That would make things difficult,” she agreed. Suddenly, an idea came to mind and she snapped her fingers. “Princess,” the Soulan stated, “how good are you with directions?”
Bulla looked at her skeptically. “I’m decent I suppose…” she said, trailing off. Her eyebrow perked up yet again. “Why?”
Hinoki leaned in, a knowing smile forming fast.
“I know just the place.”
-=-=-=-
Later that day…
“Coffee?”
Alone out on the patio near the dining hall, Goten didn’t think he’d have company. The familiar vision of Marron, hot cup in hand, approaching him, however, was a welcomed sight. He smiled at the blonde, momentarily distracted from his thoughts. “Well, if it isn’t Lady Marron herself, gracing the low folk!” he teased. Marron responded by slapping his back before putting down the cup in front of him.
“You hush,” she said warningly. Though her timbre tightened with annoyance, Goten could tell she didn’t mind the joking so much. As she sat besides him at the table, Marron couldn’t maintain her flat expression, blooming into her normal ray of sunshine. “Out here by yourself?”
Goten peeked into the steaming mug in his hands; in spite of its warmth, he felt numb. The flicker of companionship brightened his mood for a second, but the regrets in his stomach couldn’t evaporate. “Didn’t have much of an appetite for breakfast,” he said, with his stomach growling in betrayal.
“Like I believe that,” Marron responded, brandishing a few pieces of toast she grabbed as well. Goten sheepishly took them without protest. As he ate, the blonde cocked her head. “Besides,” she began again, “it’s already past lunch. Don’t tell me you’re the first Saiyan to miss two meals in a row.”
In between bites, Goten gulped hard, pondering his response. “Slept in,” he admitted. “Tough workout yesterday.”
Truthfully, the hybrid passed out fairly easily after the exhausting situation he found himself the night prior. Overexertion put him to sleep, and shame kept him in that very bed all morning. It was only when the castle maids came to tidy his room and replace his linens that Goten hastily changed into a fresh gi, all while trying to inconspicuously ball the tainted sheets before they could tell something was amiss. Unable to face the rest of civilization so soon, he meandered over to the veranda and would have stayed there in solitude had he not needed a friend at that moment. Especially, one who wasn’t related to the woman consuming his every thought.
“Well, when both you and Bulla didn’t show up to either meal, I figured it had to be something along those lines.”
The mention of her name piqued his interest. “B-Chan didn’t show?” Goten asked, his voice full of ample concern and curiosity.
Marron bit her lip, appearing almost amused. “Sweet you still call her that,” she answered softly, an idle thought said aloud. His tone solidified to Marron just how much Goten had cared about Bulla over the years, even from childhood. She found it endearing and, given the hidden context she had, reassured her even more so of Goten’s fondness for the princess. Clearing her throat, Marron continued, “Everyone has been doing their own thing lately, I guess we’re bound to miss one another in a palace as big as this one.”
“Guess so,” he retorted.
It was true, Goten thought, he couldn’t even recall the last time he talked to Trunks the two of them had been so preoccupied. His family had been settling into a routine of training, eating and researching (Gohan more so the latter part) and even Marron had spent the past few days currying favor with a prince no less. This prompted a more devious expression to form on Goten’s face.
“So…you and Zasso…”
“Me and Zasso what…?”
Goten took a sip of his drink. “Nothing,” he began, harmlessly enough. “Just…noticing you both are spending more time together.”
Marron’s attention honed in on an empty corner of the veranda. “What’s with the third degree?” she asked, somewhat teasingly, but there was an ounce of seriousness behind the words.
“What?” Goten questioned. “I’m curious.”
“Did Trunks put you up to this?” Marron questioned more sternly. “Because I’m still not talking to him, even if he’s having you do his dirty work.”
“Trunks?” Goten blinked. He hadn’t even noticed his friends were on the outs again, but given Trunks’ state at the ball, he can’t say he was all that surprised. A pang of guilt crept in, knowing how he left him all alone while he decided to leave with Trunks’ sister of all people that evening. Had Goten been there, maybe whatever rift Marron and him were going through could have been mended. But then again, after observing how much Marron lit up dancing with that prince, Goten doubted there was much he could do.
“Asking for myself, honest,” the hybrid admitted. Marron shot him a disbelieving glance.
“I know how you boys are,” she said.
“C’mon Marron, you’re my best friend…I wouldn’t lie about that.”
“I could have sworn that distinction belonged to him.”
“Well yeah, but…you’re my other best friend.”
Marron’s shrewd gaze observed her sole companion as they took respective sips of their drinks. She knew she was being buttered up to. “Out with it, Goten,” she said, bracing herself.
“I guess I’m just surprised,” Goten commented. “For as long as I’ve known you, it’s felt like you’ve only ever been interested in…”
“...in?”
Goten didn’t dare say who, but Marron knew. She took a big swig of her beverage, as if it was a potion of courage. “I’m interested in nice, handsome men who know what they want and aren’t afraid to go after it,” Marron answered swiftly, far more assured than her usual wavering.
Though not about him, Goten still found merit in the words. They certainly felt applicable to his own situation, but this was not about him.
“I always just want you happy, Mare,” he said sweetly. While the two never ventured towards romantic territory, there was a deep, platonic affection between them. “If this guy is making you happy, then I’m happy too,” Goten finished with a smile.
It was hard not to smile back at that signature grin, Marron being no exception. “I am happy,” she admitted. There was a tug on her heart when she spoke, but she tried to ignore it. Marron sighed. “Happier than I’ve been in a while,” she continued earnestly.
“Good,” Goten stated back. Part of him felt for Trunks, knowing just how much Marron’s newfound happiness was affecting the heir, but he knew his friend would have to figure things out before he could ever hope to mend his connection with the pretty human. Even so, Goten was rooting for him to get it right.
“And you’re happy?”
The hypothetical managed to bring Goten’s attention back to the conversation at hand. “Who me?” he wondered. Before Marron could protest, Goten gave his best fake grin. “Like I said,” he reiterated, “as long as you are, I am.”
Marron chuckled to herself. “Forget about me,” she declared. “Tell me how you really feel, Goten,” the blonde insisted. “Since we’re being so honest with each other.”
Once again, Goten’s speech was at a standstill, contemplating the request. In some ways, he felt a small ounce of joy at having had all these moments with Bulla, but they were mired by all the complications surrounding their situation. Yet, remembering their dance—that stroll through the gardens—the sound of her laughter music to his ears, it somehow made everything else dissipate for a moment.
If he could make Bulla happy, even if just briefly, then perhaps, he could be too.
Goten was about to answer when something else distracted Marron from behind. “Oh Bulla! You’re up!” she exclaimed as her shadow grew closer.
Nervous to turn, but also eager to assess her demeanor, Goten flipped his head back to the princess. Though her hand gently rested against his shoulder, Bulla concentrated on the friend in front of her. “Was catching up on my beauty sleep,” she said with a smile. Her nails gently tickled Goten’s back before she released him, the older Saiyan already lamenting the loss. “Did I miss anything?”
“No,” Marron said, guarding the details of the previous conversation. “Goten has to do some digging on a question and get back to me,” she added with a smile.
“That so?” Bulla laughed. “You’re a tough teacher giving homework on vacation.”
“Downright cruel,” Goten added jokingly. His gaze quickly caught Bulla’s before returning towards Marron.
“Simply returning the favor, Ten,” Marron sang.
The bluette arched her eyebrows to her friend, wordlessly communicating and thankfully, Marron spoke the language of women all too well. A language, Goten and Trunks in particular, didn’t always understand.
“Is that Pan calling me?” Marron wondered, rising to her feet, but no voice could be heard.
Goten raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t hear—”
“Sure thing, Pan! Be right there!”
Marron shuffled away, momentarily giving Bulla a pointed look and nod, before dashing away in the direction of the nonexistent summons. Both Bulla and Goten glanced at their fading friend, torn between appreciating the privacy and fearing it all the same. Their focus shifted back towards one another, a mix of awkwardness, shyness, and that ever-pervasive air of longing. Bulla decided to speak first.
“Hi,” she began. There was a tranquil quality to the heiress, one that had been absent yesterday during their spar.
Yesterday…
Goten’s face fell, already upset with himself for the day prior. “Hey B,” he returned softly. “I’ve been meaning to come by. Listen—”
“—would you like to train with me again today?”
The question had caught him more off guard than anything else, though Goten now was able to register that Bulla was in training clothes as opposed to her usual outfits. Still, it was not what he was expecting to hear. Maybe he was speaking from experience, but it was very unlike a Briefs to let something go so easily. “Train?” Goten repeated, almost in disbelief. He could have sworn he was about to face another comeuppance of her wrath, but she looked…almost docile.
“Yesterday,” she said, turning her eyes to the ground and faintly blushing. Clearly, the memory of the heated exchange still lingered. “I kept my form up longer than usual,” Bulla continued, “but I couldn’t maintain it.”
Both of them grew even redder when they recalled their positioning when that happened.
“You impressed me,” Goten answered back.
She smiled. “Even though I tried to kill you?”
“Minor detail.”
Bulla stifled a laugh. “All that aside,” she said, “I’d like to spar again. Maybe somewhere more private though.”
Intrigued, Goten wondered what she meant. “Did you have something in mind?” he asked. “Can’t say I’m too familiar with a lot of the city.”
“Actually,” Bulla continued, “Hinoki suggested a place.”
“She did?”
“Yeah, about thirty miles southeast in the desert. I was picking her brain about places to explore. She talked highly of it.”
“What is it?”
Bulla’s lips curled upwards. “A surprise,” she shared.
There was something a little too calm about her manner. She knew it. Goten knew it. The random plant in the corner knew it. Everything about her demeanor gave him pause. None more so than the light palm to his chest.
“I just would like for us to not have to worry about interruptions.”
There was something in her voice that carried a hint beyond what she was saying. Goten should have known better, and yet, something about those big blue eyes always seemed to wrap him around her little finger. The older man chuckled quietly to himself as he relented.
“I guess I always have trouble saying no to you,” Goten admitted quietly.
Bulla’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “That’s the idea,” she said under her breath. Before Goten even had a chance to reply, the heiress whirled around and took to the sky. “Try to keep up, Ten!” she shouted back.
“Wait, right now!?” Goten said in a panic, looking to see if anyone else was witnessing the two. Though no one was nearby, the thought of taking flight with Bulla could certainly give the wrong impression to the wrong person. This did not seem to faze the princess, however.
With a wink, the aqua-haired beauty let out a giggle. “No time like the present,” Bulla declared, taking off in the other direction.
What made Goten follow was beyond his knowledge or understanding, but follow, he did.
-=-=-
“BULLA!” Goten shouted to the fading heiress. For the entirety of their flight, she had not kept his pace, only speeding faster every time he thought he caught up.
“Come on!” she called back to him before darting even further ahead.
“Wait up!”
Despite fewer years flying, Bulla’s pace far exceeded that of Goten's own; he could barely catch up with her. Soon, she was a blip in his periphery, zooming ahead too far to clearly see. As they passed desert sands and rocky canyons, he wondered how Bulla was easily navigating this foreign land. Goten tried to pick up his pace to follow where she led.
He was almost lost, save for the unique pings of her ki keeping him on the path. Goten’s hair tousled in the wind, wondering what the rush was. If they were truly going somewhere remote, like Bulla said, then they should have had the luxury of time. Still, the wind blew against his face, but was hardly a cooling agent. The sun itself was scorching and the combination of that plus the sand emitting the reflected heat from the ground to match how he felt up high. Goten was eager for some shade, and hoped that wherever Bulla was taking them, could provide a reprieve.
That reprieve seemed to take form in the one small patch of green sanctuary.
Approaching the small dot ahead of him, Goten’s eyes widened. The patch of green soon became clearer: an oasis.
Before him was a paradise of deep greens and orange. Exotic flowers and fruit trees lined the perimeter, and in the middle was a massive waterfall with a blue-green lagoon at its base. Native Souljin fauna meandered about, their animal noises mixing with the sounds of nature. The sun had become reddened from its usual orange glow; the late afternoon sky a magnificent purple. Against the backdrop of the oasis, Goten could see why Hinoki had suggested such a beautiful place to Bulla.
Thinking of the princess only brought Goten back to reality. “Bulla?” he called out into the basin. No reply. Taking flight again, Goten maneuvered around the oasis in search of the heiress. He explored around, continuing to call out for her, but he heard nothing. After five minutes of an earnest search, the bright sun began to feel even more intense.
His gaze fell below to the lagoon before him.
Panting from both the heat and the exertion from his prior journey, the water looked more than inviting to Goten. A dip in the pool could be just the thing he needed. Goten removed the gi now perspired in sweat to the oasis floor, leaving him in just a pair of boxers. Without a swimsuit, he figured what he wore would have to do. Taking a quick look around for Bulla once more, only to see no sign of her, he decided to jump in for some relief.
He resurfaced taking a big breath of air, having stayed under long enough to feel cool. The chorus of animal sounds chirped along, bringing Goten’s attention to the area surrounding him. Still no sign.
“B-Chan?”
Goten waded in the water, looking all around for the blue-haired girl but was unable to find her anywhere. He brushed his wet spikes with his hand, still searching the perimeter. The powerful boom of the waterfall nearby was the only sound he heard for miles. As he approached closer to the nappe, his ears twitched. An echo behind the falls indicated there was a cavern further in. Goten took one last look around for Bulla before diving underneath the water.
When he emerged from the depths, Goten found himself behind the waterfall. The cavern itself was more massive than he would have been led to believe just from looking on the outside. His ears were muffled by the thunderous roar filling the cave’s depths. It was impossible to determine exactly how old this place was, but Goten knew it outlasted thousands of generations before him. It was sobering in a way, to feel so small in the middle of something so mighty.
As his ebony orbs canvassed the cavern, he waded towards the middle. Goten’s eyes were immediately drawn to a somewhat familiar sight, white boots draped over the pool’s edge. The hybrid should have processed things faster, but it took about three articles of clothing before it registered exactly what he was looking at: the remnants of Bulla’s training clothes strewn about.
Widening his gape, at the end of the trail, stood Bulla—who was turned around unclasping the hook of her bra—the last piece of her outfit still attached to her curvaceous form. Out of respect for her privacy, Goten tried to look elsewhere, but it was too late. As she tossed the piece of lingerie to the side, Bulla peeked behind her shoulder and smiled when she realized she had an audience. Clearly not deterred by her lack of clothing in the company of someone else, Bulla slowly turned to face the awestruck man in the water, their staring just as intense as Goten’s irrepressible heartbeat.
Fuck.
“B-Chan…” Goten whispered, breathless at the sight of her.
His first instinct was to look away again, but as he tried to divert his attention, he was frozen where he stood. Whatever Saiyan Princess juju she had within her completely cast a spell on him. Though Goten loathed to admit he thought of her naked form time and time again, actually witnessing the princess’ porcelain skin up close put all his fantasies to shame.
Tendrils of cornflower blue cascaded over her shoulders, covering only part of her chest. Wetness made her bangs and ends curl slightly, atypical from the straight style he was used to. Bulla was her mother’s daughter in more ways than one, including being blessed in the upper portion of her body. Her hair fell at the right parts, with the faintest shade of peach poking through the strands and, upon registering exactly what he was looking at, Goten felt every organ in his body tighten. The half-Saiyan had never seen a sight that bewitched him as much as Bulla did in that moment.
She was extraordinary.
The heiress swallowed a hard lump; a manifestation of nerves tried to escape her throat, she forced it back down. Remember what Hinoki said, Bulla thought.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she teased through her anxiousness. Descending into the cavern pool, Bulla didn’t break eye contact with the man. Goten remained silent, fixated on her every step. The princess waded towards him, the water only coming up to just below her waist, still giving him a perfect view of her chest.
“I…” Goten could barely respond.
Bulla beamed at his enchanted state. “You’re cute when you’re speechless,” she said with a light laugh.
Still quiet, Goten forced his gaze downwards at the water below. His jaw tightened as his nails dug into his palms; any further pressure would have resulted in broken skin. The flush of his face betrayed him.
“Bulla,” Goten finally found his voice, “what are you doing?”
The heiress continued to float over towards him. “Just enjoying a swim,” she said coyly enough.
“No, I mean…what are you doing without clothes?”
“Oh, did I forget to change? Silly me.”
“ Bulla.”
His pointed timbre gave her pause, but only for a moment. Bulla tried her darndest to not let him deter her, so she shoved aside any and all hesitation. “I don’t know how else I can convince you what I want,” she said. “Nothing else has seemed to work.”
“And so your solution was this?!”
She sighed; her pouty lips pursed before returning a question of her own. “Why didn’t you come to my room, Goten?” the princess asked quietly.
Goten shifted in place, ashamed at the memory of him debasing himself to thoughts of her. Had he not remained in his own bedroom yesterday, it wouldn’t have been merely thoughts he would have regretted, but something much worse.
“Goten?”
“I–I didn’t trust myself last night.”
Dark, tired eyes still remained on the cavern pool as he said this. Shame palpable with every clenching muscle; he didn’t dare face her. Sensing the older man’s hesitancy, Bulla pressed further.
“Why?” she wondered innocently enough.
His lack of response only prompted the atmosphere around them to become tenser. Bulla trudged on, inching closer and closer to Goten’s strong form. It took every ounce of control for him to face the other direction; a headful of curse words inside his brain for denying himself the view. Nervous fingers tapped at his sides. He was feeling very much the bug in the mouth of the Venus Fly Trap. It had gotten much too quiet and the older half-Saiyan wasn’t sure what that meant.
Without warning, her arms fastened around his frame from behind. Goten's breath hitched, his own arms spread in surprise. More beats of silence passed, the only sound that wasn’t from the rushing water was the light gasp he emitted at Bulla’s touch. They stayed that way for a few moments, until Bulla pressed in closer, enmeshing herself with the other hybrid. Following a soft exhale, the Saiyan Princess posed a question.
“Do you feel me, Goten?”
Bulla’s breasts lay flat against his back, and Goten bit his lip to hide just how much he enjoyed the sensation. He could feel how hard her nipples were, contrasted by how soft the rest of her skin was. The rise and fall of her chest, against the serene noise of the waterfall behind them, tickled his spine in the sweetest way.
“I know what I want,” Bulla said gently. Her embrace tightened. “I’ve known for a long time.”
“Bulla,” he breathed.
“I get that it’s hard…my brother, my dad. They mean a lot to you,” Bulla acknowledged. Her tone was still gentle and kind, her words showcasing a depth of maturity even those twice her age rarely exuded. “I see that now. There’s just a part of me that hopes…” Bulla whispered and paused. She took a deep breath, trying to find her bravado. “That hopes…” she reiterated, “maybe, I mean a lot to you too. That maybe I could mean—”
“More?”
His quiet response was unexpected, though Bulla’s heart fluttered nonetheless. The reference to their conversation that first night on Souljin, to what she had practically begged for the day before. She tingled with warmth when Goten brought his arms to cover where she was already wrapped around him. The safety and security that came with his touch felt healing, like Bulla would never have to worry about anything else at all. Her grip squeezed his frame as the pace of her pulse quickened.
“More,” Bulla confirmed.
The heiress finally released her hold on the older man, but nudged his body around to face her. Once he was finally looking down into those pools of blue, Goten was hypnotized yet again.
“Bulla…” he repeated, more slowly.
Without breaking eye contact, her delicate palms surveyed his pectorals, sliding up until she reached Goten’s face. Bulla kept her focus solely on those onyx orbs. “Do you feel me?” she asked again. She relinquished one of his cheeks to pull his hand to her heart. In between the very chest he tried desperately to avoid looking at, Goten could make out her heartbeat, fluttering against her sternum, pulsating into his palm. He parted his lips, a stark gust of air leaving his lungs. Satisfied that she had his attention, Bulla squeezed his hand.
“Because I feel you here,” she said with a quickened breath.
There was that look again, he thought. The one that Bulla always gave to him. The one where she saw the whole world in his eyes; where he saw the entirety of the universe in hers.
He swallowed thickly, keeping his gaze fixed and focused. “I feel you,” Goten whispered.
The pounding inside her ribcage multiplied as they held onto each other’s eyeline. Inching in closer, Bulla gently placed her hair over her shoulders, exposing the fullness of her breasts. Her irises gleamed with curiosity to his reaction. She observed a vein form above his eyebrow, while his hand trembled against her. Goten never wavered in his stare, resisting the temptation to trail downwards. Bulla pouted at his chivalry, but the genius did not accept defeat just yet.
“Do you see me?” she asked, already knowing the answer he gave her days ago. He swallowed thickly, absorbing the question.
“I see you.”
Goten confirmed his previous statement all too quickly, fearing if he didn’t, he’d be tempted to sneak a look. The heiress decided that if he wouldn’t focus where she wanted him to, she’d have to appeal to another sense. While he fought to maintain eye contact, Goten barely even noticed Bulla guiding his hand towards one of her breasts until it was too late. They both gasped; Goten in surprise and Bulla in delight. Though he had yet to regain control over his hand, just the feel of his large fingers enveloping her made Bulla tremble.
“Please,” Goten pleaded. He tried to ignore his burning desire, he truly did. But after everything they had been through, Goten had such little resistance left in him. Subconsciously, his thumb flitted over her nipple, releasing another soft moan from the princess. The noise startled him back to reality enough that he let go of her, only for Bulla to capture his face in her hands.
“Please,” she whispered back, a haze of lust clouding her eyes. Bulla was proud, almost as much as her father, but she wasn’t too proud to beg.
She wasn’t going to wait for him to make the move.
Gently, and yet, with great strength—the dichotomy only a Saiyan Princess halfling could muster—Bulla pulled Goten’s lips to hers. If he could feel her, see her, he certainly could taste her, too.
Breathless, Goten stood completely still as Bulla initiated the intimate gesture. The softness of her pillowy lips akin to heaven. A hint of salt accompanied her usual flavor, courtesy of the oasis’ lagoon. His arms remained spread, for just another moment, until the familiarity of their connection made his muscle memory envelope her in his hold.
Goten moaned into her mouth, the sensation of her against him all he could ask for. She petitioned the elder demi-Saiyan to kiss her deeper, flicks of her tongue nudging his own. Bulla nibbled Goten’s bottom lip before returning to her previous action, when he finally let her in. By now, his taste buds had learned every note of citrus and jasmine, the piquancy ripe and beckoning. The princess curled her fingers into his spikes. Her grip was strong and unrelenting; the unnatural power she possessed displayed in full force.
Brushing her wet body against his skin, hardened nipples formed on Bulla’s peaks. Everything about him made her feel primitive, like a return to her natural self. She wondered if the Saiyans of old found themselves clinging to their mates inside hidden caverns. Or, she wondered, were their displays of intimacy broadcasted for the world to see? Unashamed and based.
As Goten’s arms inched up her backside to tighten their embrace, Bulla’s imaginative mind returned to the moment at hand. Her heart continued to race as his strong fingers danced against her skin. This is it, she thought. Everything she yearned for was right in the palm of her hand. He wasn’t her brother’s best friend in that instance, nor her childhood crush; he was something else altogether.
He could have her any possible way he wanted her. That was what she was presenting on a silver platter; his hidden desire made real. The thought of propping her up at the water’s edge and diving between her legs only made Goten groan with need. Another fantasy of lifting Bulla and taking her right there in the water, it ached from the deepest recesses of his being.
Grinding against the heiress, Goten grew harder, thoughts of their spar filtering through and taking root when he almost eviscerated her clothing by the end of it.
It’s like that man said at the ball, his subconscious sang to him, she’s all yours…
His groaning intensified, as did his desire for her. More, the word they repeated so often, he needed more of Bulla. Hands once again found her breast, deliberately massaging the globe this time. Each flick coaxing a delicious mewl out of Bulla’s mouth, the same mouth he was ravaging in tandem. The other hand cupped her rear with a tight squeeze, and Bulla whispered in between kisses, “I’m all yours.”
Yours, yours, yours…
Take what’s yours, his mind taunted, but Goten knew better. He knew even though they were alone, there was no planet he could go to that would change their circumstances. He knew what she never could. In spite of what he wanted, Goten knew he couldn’t lay claim to something that wasn’t truly up for grabs. And though the fantasy was tempting, the prize all he could ever wish to have, he knew that he was unable to fulfill the dream—unable and unworthy—forced to confront the desperate truth:
She would never be his.
“No, we can’t!”
He pulled off of her with what little strength he had, sending the heiress aback. Goten panted and huffed, his entire body on fire despite being partially submerged in the water. Gulping down hard, the half-Saiyan tried to ignore the ever-stiffening member in his boxers. Though Bulla’s naked form made that near impossible, he did his best to keep his gaze at eye level. Those very eyes that reflected surprise, but mostly, disappointment.
“Goten…” Bulla trailed off, her voice fraught with hesitancy.
A stark tremble in his throat only reiterated his words. “We can’t,” he said again. His jaw tightened as he pondered. “I can’t…” Goten lamented, pain in his voice evident. He couldn’t say how badly he wished that weren’t true. “I’m sorry, B-Chan.”
The tough veneer of assertiveness on Bulla’s face crumbled in an instant. Inside her cheek, her tongue found refuge, resisting the urge to bite down. Here she was, offering herself as freely as one could, and he was pushing her away. Her perfect plan crumbled in an instant. In this solitary cavern, just the two of them and the roaring waterfall, Goten still kept her at bay. It was the harsh reality hitting her for the first time and it stung. Deeply.
“You don’t want me,” the heiress replied matter-of-factly.
“Bulla—”
Tears welled in her eyes. “You don’t want me,” she repeated, even more disheartened. Try as she might to keep up appearances, the princess didn’t have the strength to do so anymore. Her crestfallen expression wounded Goten far more than any cut could ever hope to do.
“B, that’s not true,” Goten maintained.
His objection to her statement piqued the bluette’s interest. And though history had taught her otherwise, something about Goten continually made her put faith in something greater. Teal orbs met his gaze and she couldn’t deny the earnestness there. Still, her pride refused to bend.
“It is,” Bulla said, defeatedly. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Goten released a startled scoff, almost amused at how untrue her comment was. “B-Chan,” he began again, “I told you I can’t get you out of my head. I meant that.”
When she tried to avert his eyeline, he inched closer, keeping his distance still, but trying to show the seriousness of his words.
“Bulla, I want you,” Goten insisted, “in every possible way.”
“You don’t—”
“Listen, please,” Goten pleaded. She gave him the courtesy of eye contact, despite the racing heartbeat inside her chest. Satisfied he had Bulla’s full attention, Goten continued. “I want you. I want to protect you. To make you smile. To listen to you ramble about some mathematical equation that goes over my head. I want to torment your brother together until we’re laughing so hard, milk comes out of our noses.”
A wry grin formed on her face at that last declaration, but she tried to remain unmoved. Sensing her guard lowering a bit, Goten became more vulnerable.
“Even more, I want to feel you in my arms. To wake up next to you. To kiss you everywhere, and I mean everywhere. I want to…”
He paused for a moment to gather his composure, but Goten was never more sure of his next statement.
“I want to be inside you, Bulla,” he admitted softly. An amused exhale followed the admission, as if a weight had been lifted. “There…I said it. I want that more than anything.”
Bulla could hardly catch her breath. She felt dizzy. She felt flushed. She felt…
Wanted.
The smallest chuckle caught in his throat. “B-Chan, you say I don't want you? I crave you,” Goten said decisively. Her look of astonishment only prompted him to continue. “I want to give you everything that you deserve.”
He was saying all the right things. All the things she longed for. Bulla was tempted to run into his arms once more, resume their feverish kissing from earlier, but his expression changed before she had the chance to.
“But I can’t…”
There it was. The “but” she dreaded so much. Inhaling deep, the princess shivered as she confronted her nerves. “Why not?” Bulla questioned painfully.
Goten’s own face showcased the hurt he was feeling, matching hers in perfect symmetry. She half-expected him to make all the same points he had before, but was struck with his reply.
“Because,” he began, “you deserve so much better than me, Bulla.”
The bluette froze. “What?”
“You deserve better,” he spoke again, but softer. Bulla still looked upon him with confusion, perplexed by what he was getting at. Her incredulous appearance gave the older Saiyan all the ammo he needed to make his point. “You have so much ahead of you, B,” Goten added. “You’re brilliant, beautiful, powerful—you command the attention of an entire room. Call it Saiyan Princess juju or whatever, it’s there. People see it. I see it.”
He sighed before he finished, the heaviness of it all catching up with him. “You deserve someone better than your brother’s low-class best friend, Bulla,” Goten said, dejected but not bitter. “Someone who can give you the universe; you deserve nothing less, Princess.”
“Goten…”
“At the end of the day, that’s the truth of it. As much as I don’t want to disappoint your dad or your brother, I think some part of me could live with that. The age thing…” he trailed off. A quiet sigh exhaled from his lips. “It doesn’t matter as much now. I’m always going remember that little princess dancing on my toes, but that’s not you. Not anymore.”
He cracked a soft smile, absorbing the realization.
“All that to say, I do want you. I’ve wanted you for a while. I’ve denied it over and over, but it’s true. I just—”
Goten trailed off as he tried to find his words.
“I just know you should be with someone on your level. I wish that someone was me, Bulla—I really do. But that’s why I can’t.”
Silence filled the air once more. The two half-Saiyans stared at each other with wistful eyes as they tried to process what had been said.
Bulla couldn’t fathom it. One of the kindest and most confident men she knew felt unworthy of her. It finally resonated; the root of his denial. Beyond anything with her family, their age gap, beyond her inexperience. The inadequacy she also felt about not being enough in other areas of life, it somehow wedged its way into his line of thinking when it came to her. Bulla quivered in place. His confession astonished her, rendering her speechless. It would have been easy to remain quiet and yet, the heiress attempted to find her voice to respond.
“Goten,” she started to say, “you can’t possibly think you’re beneath me.”
He offered a sad smile in response. “Bulla, if you saw my thoughts…knew the deepest parts of what I want to do with you…” Goten said then grew quiet. His chest flushed as he tried not to dwell on those images. He lifted his head once more. “Then you’d know that I am. Miles beneath.”
A scoff reverberated in the cavern. “You don’t think I have those same thoughts?” Bulla managed to laugh incredulously. “Just because I’ve never been with anyone doesn’t put me on a pedestal. I know it’s because you value me, Goten. But the thing is…I want you just as badly. In all those ways and more.”
“Bulla—”
“You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted, Goten. My whole life. You’re everything to me,” she said, the emotion stuck in her throat. “You’re on my level,” Bulla continued in the sweetest manner. “I don’t care about your background, income, whatever it may be…it doesn’t matter. I want you. Your good heart. Your strength of character. You. Just you. No one else.”
Her strong demeanor faltered as pathos washed over her. “Please,” she begged, “don’t run away again.”
Silent tears danced down her cheeks as she said those words. At this point, she couldn’t bear to keep them dormant. Bulla wanted him to see, to know, just how deeply she meant everything.
“Not from this. Not from me,” she finished with a sob.
Goten felt the gut punch of witnessing her finally cry. Even with the trail of tears down her face, she still managed to look like the most stunning creature he’d ever seen. To know he was the cause only salted the wound more. Were he stronger, the half-Saiyan would have strode over and taken her in his arms and kissed her tears away.
But he wasn’t, and he couldn’t.
It was right then and there, Goten feared he’d never be able to be the man Bulla believed him to be.
He’d fall victim to her if he stayed a second sooner. With great hesitancy, Goten headed towards the cave’s entrance. The roar of the waterfall was deafening, with the intensity crescendoing. Foam gathered at the bottom, and Goten sighed as the white froth licked at the sides of his hands. Unable to leave wordlessly, the older demi-Saiyan turned back for a second to give his parting reply.
“Maybe one day, B-Chan,” Goten ended sadly, “maybe one day I won’t.”
The words stung when he said them. Echoes of her sniffling mixed with the ear-splitting background noise only seemed to taunt him further. Goten creased his brow, a combination of regret and self-loathing, as he took off through the waterfall to run away from the situation yet again.
Watching him fly off for perhaps the third time in a week, his absence triggered the rest of Bulla’s pent up tears. One by one, beads of salt stung the heiress’ cool cheeks with their heat. Into the pool below they fell, impossible to identify once mixed with the rest of the water. As she stood there, exposed and the most vulnerable she had ever felt, Bulla knew that she had done all she could. The next move, should there ever be a next move, was solely in Goten’s court.
Remiss as she was to admit it, that thought terrified her to no end.
-=-=-=-
“Trunks, I swear to KAMI if I have to repeat myself again…”
The distracted prince turned to an annoyed looking Pan, who sat across from him at one of the many dinner tables in the dining hall. Next to her, Uub was shaking his head, doomed to have yet another chaotic meal. Trunks blinked back from his internal musings. “Huh?” he said, still unaware of what had been previously said.
“For the last time, do you want my fish cakes?!” Pan yelled, nearly tossing the plate at him.
Trunks shook his head. “No, I’m okay,” he answered. Most of his appetite had left him.
Groaning, Pan resumed her furious eating, ever her grandfather’s progeny. “I swear! You men and your selective hearing. All of you!”
“Pan, it’s fine, he’s had a long day of training,” Uub reasoned.
Pan snorted. “Oh, I am sure it’s been tiring swinging around that sword all day,” she said, shoveling more food into her mouth. Uub rolled his eyes as he quietly resumed eating his meal as well.
Briefly, Trunks’ eyes darted back to what had him preoccupied in the first place: the head table where Prince Zasso had invited Marron to dine with the rest of his family. In a yellow dress, the human evoked sunshine itself. Trunks thought that Marron looked great in any color, but the warmth she exuded seemed to even melt his icy exterior a bit. She was laughing at something the king had said, her hand rubbing on Zasso’s shoulder a little too familiarly. The demi-Saiyan forced himself to gaze down at his plate, where he had been playing around with uneaten peas.
“Everything good, Trunks?”
Uub’s concern brought Trunks once again back to focus. Though he appreciated the consideration, Trunks didn’t even know where to start. It wasn’t worth getting others involved in the mess he made all on his own. He forced a bite of food into his mouth before answering. “All good,” the heir spoke in a tone that sounded believable enough.
Skeptical at first, Uub observed his friend before returning to his meal. Pan, too, seemed to soften her edges with recognition that something was amiss. She grew quiet as she observed the elder halfing, but like Uub, resumed eating.
With his companions’ attention back to their food, Trunks took one more forced mouthful of the otherwise delicious food. Though in that particular moment, it tasted all too bitter for his liking. He chewed it joylessly, the sound of Marron’s voice begging him to stare again. Whatever words she spoke were hard to make out, but Trunks observed her as if he was hanging onto each syllable. She must have sensed the attention on herself as her eyes momentarily glanced in his direction. Her voice ceased, a lost thought trailing off, while gazing his way. The two exchanged silent remarks, before Trunks broke his concentration and grabbed his tray.
Quietly, and without a goodbye to his other friends, the younger Saiyan Prince removed himself from the table and went to deposit his plates towards the exit. Pan and Uub weren’t sure what occurred, but Trunks didn’t seem very engaged, and so they let him be. As Trunks vacated the dining hall, Marron’s gaze followed his movements for a second longer, but was pulled back into the conversation by Prince Zasso. She smiled as if nothing had happened and resumed her story, prompting the rest of the royal family to engage further. Save for one, heading in the same direction after Trunks.
The hybrid had already sped up, eager to get out of the room. He wasn’t sure where he wanted to go, but his feet carried him outside.
Somehow, he had taken off towards the barracks, empty now at night, and grabbed one of the sparring swords off the rack. Trunks got into position to practice his stances. The martial artistry he possessed allowed for a certain grace, yet, he noticed a marked improvement in his finesse even after just a few training sessions with Prince Kusa. It was just as well, he thought, all the better to reach his end goal. A loaded grunt accompanied each pose.
With every move he made, he pretended he was hitting Zasso.
It wasn’t long until he realized that someone had been watching him. The demi-Saiyan turned to see a stoic Kusa up against the wall, full of silent contemplation, and maybe some slight judgment per his usual manner. Even so, there was something about the sight before him that intrigued the Souljin man.
“Shouldn’t you be at dinner?” the younger man asked with a gruff tone. He didn’t appreciate being followed.
The Prince-Consort remained unfazed. “Shouldn’t you?”
Trunks frowned. “I’d rather be doing this,” he confessed. The lavender-haired heir leaned in to showcase a swift swing of his sword. He continued to practice, having nearly forgotten about the prince at all until Kusa unexpectedly clinked his own rapier against the one in Trunks’ hands. Lifting his gaze, Trunks saw a hint of pride from the older Souljin.
“If you insist,” Prince Kusa said.
Despite his earlier protest, the frown on Trunks’ face slowly morphed into a smirk reminiscent of his father. “Very well,” he replied, using his strength to push back the elder prince before the two fell into a proper duel.
-=-=-=-
All Goten heard in his head was the roar of that waterfall.
Granted, this time around, it was more distant—the one near the mountain behind the palace as opposed to the one at the oasis. The sound was a reminder of his inner struggle; the desire to open the dam to all he ever wanted, as well as the burden to quell the rushing waters inside.
Hunched over a bench in the water gardens, he stared distantly at his folded hands, his mind elsewhere. The privacy Goten sought he found there, but the ramifications of that isolation resulted in his thoughts racing a mile a minute. It finally came to the surface just how unworthy he felt around the princess, even though she made her longing clear. Goten regretted leaving Bulla the way he did. It was beginning to become an unfortunate pattern. This time, however, Goten thought his reasoning was just.
He had no business wanting what he wanted, Bulla included.
Still, her bare form would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life. The spitting image of her beautiful mother, and yet, Goten found the heiress even more striking. There was a quality about Bulla that the elder halfling attributed to her Saiyan genes; a bit more sharp, notable. Yet, a delicacy there that was not found in Bulma. A balance of fire and water.
Goten appreciated the irony as a solitary, small chuckle tickled his throat. He wasn’t much for astrology, but fire and water were his and Bulla’s signs. Just another example that made their connection seemingly destined.
A long exhale followed. Even if their attraction was written in the stars of all things, there were a multitude of obstacles in their path. Could fate be so cruel to throw obstruction after obstruction in front of them? Though Goten’s concern with the external factors grew less and less bothersome, he couldn’t deny their importance. But, more than anything, it was his own insecurities that kept him from diving headfirst into the deep end.
And Goten, for all his hesitation, recognized how desperately he wanted to sink into her.
His heart ached remembering how Bulla pleaded and implored with him; how she saw him so differently than he saw himself. Goten knew in his heart of hearts that Bulla’s viewpoint had merit, but, as someone who had long lived in the shadow of others, it was hard to believe it. Try as he might, Goten could not convince himself that he was as good of a person as she thought him to be. And, as Goten told her back in that cave, Bulla only deserved the best.
The best, he sadly relented, was not him.
“Is there no place on this godforsaken planet I can go without you showing up?”
Goten looked up from the isolated bench to see Vegeta passing by. He had been so deep in thought, he didn’t even pick up on the older man’s ki.
“Huh?”
Vegeta sneered, a towel wrapped around his neck. He looked as if he had come from the barracks and cut through the gardens. “It’s as if you are following me,” he said accusatively.
“Me?” he wondered. Vegeta sure could be funny without trying sometimes. After all, Goten had been there first. The younger Saiyan turned his attention back towards the ground. “I actually was looking for somewhere to be alone, to be honest.”
Silence befell them; Vegeta nearly took off without a response, per his usual modus operandi, but something stopped him. What exactly, Goten did not know, but the Saiyan Prince halted midway, sighed, and rolled his eyes. Goten could hear the older man click his tongue in annoyance, however, Vegeta decided to sit next to him.
“That’s not your usual method,” Vegeta remarked, arms crossed. “Don’t tell me I’m rubbing off on you, brat.”
Goten, though taken aback at Vegeta joining him on the bench, managed to produce a wry smile. “No, it’s not,” he admitted, “but I guess you have in some ways.”
“Not enough clearly, otherwise, you’d be far less annoying.”
“Clearly.”
Despite the jabs, Goten appreciated Vegeta’s weird approach at comforting. “Are you still hung up on these moons?” the Saiyan Prince asked, referencing their previous conversation.
Goten’s gaze lifted towards Raimu and Runa, inhaling deeply through his nostrils. All he could think about when he looked at them was Bulla. “Kind of,” he professed. The demi-Saiyan took another studied breath. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Goten vocalized with a hint of sorrow.
“I have a running list for your father, I’m sure I can add yours without issue.”
The Saiyan Prince returned his eyeline to the hybrid, the smirk on his face indicating his attempt at humor. “It’s not as long, I assure you,” he swore. When Goten’s eyes did not glimmer with their usual genial quality, Vegeta softened briefly, before resorting back to a glower. “I didn’t take you for someone who worried this much,” he said in a quieter way.
“Oh?” Goten asked curiously.
“Yes, it’s annoying as shit.”
The younger man remained pensive. “Sorry,” he apologized. For this, he thought, and for everything else.
“Tch, if you’re concerned about feeling more Saiyan, Goten, then perhaps your human side is the more dominant one. I, for one, would take pride in that part of you. But what do I know—I’m only a prince.”
The quiet between them grew louder. “Suppose I’m just…” Goten trailed off, “trying to remember my place.”
Still stoic, Vegeta’s eyes flickered with recognition. Goten wondered if the oft spoken warning the prince had given him throughout his lifetime resonated, but it was always hard to tell with the elder Saiyan. If he did, the pureblood attempted to move past it, however.
“Moonlight still has a hold on me,” Vegeta admitted quietly, returning to the prior subject. The focus on the two moons above heightened and Goten could see he was not the only one captivated by them. “Sometimes, I miss that ability to become completely enthralled by its gaze. It was a different power than Super Saiyan, yet just as thrilling. It was the pinnacle of my strength for so long.”
“You’ve become so strong even without it,” Goten remarked. He didn’t realize he said the words aloud.
Vegeta reverberated a pleased humming noise inside his mouth. “Of course I did,” he answered in that familiar braggadocious manner. Clearing the tick in his throat, the Saiyan Prince changed his countenance. “And, though I loathe to admit it,” he continued, “the same could be said for your father and brother.”
“What of me?”
“You’ve never had the ability.”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” Goten said a bit more sternly than before, but still full of earnestness. “I know what my dad and Gohan are capable of. What you’re capable of…”
He trailed off before unleashing a sigh.
“What of me?” he repeated. “What am I capable of?”
Goten admitted silently to himself that he was not quite sure what he was asking. Was he capable of great feats of strength, like his father and brother and the prince of all Saiyans? Was he capable of decimating worlds, those who dared to antagonize him? Was he capable of exuding kindness instead to his enemies? Was he capable of seducing a young woman and taking her womanhood right under the nose of her father? Or, Goten hoped so desperately, was he capable of providing her a safe haven in his arms; full of admiration and passion and—
Stop.
He sighed once more. How could Vegeta even know the depths to which he desired Bulla? Goten himself could barely understand it. All he knew was that his admiration for her was both beautifully innocent and desperately carnal, both innate and supernatural, temperate and yet, all-consuming.
“More than you think,” Vegeta responded, his tone lighter and more considerate than Goten was accustomed to.
Goten lamented into his folded hands. “Second place. My whole life that’s been at the back of my head. Even Toge—”
“For fuck’s sake,” Vegeta cursed. “You’d put stock into what that cretin thinks?”
Goten’s expression grew more solemn. “I put stock into what you think, Vegeta,” he admitted quietly.
The prince returned the silence, pensive at the admission. As he observed Goten hang his head, he was reminded of the young boy afraid of staying overnight in an unfamiliar house, in search of solace and guidance from whoever could provide it. And, just like all those years ago, the only one capable of assistance in that particular moment seemed to be him.
Just his damn luck.
Another scoff, albeit a much less harsh one, made its way to the surface. “Never let anyone make you feel unworthy of who you are,” Vegeta said softly. “You’re still a Saiyan. Half-Saiyan, yes, but a Saiyan, nonetheless.”
Taken by his candor, the younger man parted his lips in surprise. It was not like Vegeta to offer words of comfort, let alone in such a poignant manner. Slowly, the atmosphere lightened, and Goten felt lighter, too. “Third-Class and all?” Goten smiled weakly, the joke sounding bittersweet.
Vegeta didn’t expect the reply, but something amused him about the question. “Third-Class and all,” Vegeta repeated. “Inferior only to me.”
“I can live with that,” Goten said, viewing the moons above. His smile grew, more at peace than before.
“Good. Now quick sulking, you look like a damn toddler denied his toys.”
A chuckle preceded Goten’s retort. “Fair enough,” the hybrid responded.
Vegeta stood to his feet and began to head in the other direction. Goten’s heart thumped steadily, a drum that only he could hear. It was incessant. A nagging feeling that itched to bubble out in the form of honesty. Goten craved Vegeta’s approval in everything, but especially this. He took one last glance at Raimu and Runa, making a silent prayer for courage. In his mind’s eye, all that filled his senses was the color blue.
“Vegeta?” Goten questioned quietly. His breath quickened when the older man paused to face him, glower and all.
“What?” the older Saiyan answered, impatient, but willing.
“I—”
Goten paused. So many words were lodged in his throat. An urge to disclose everything to the older man lay dormant, and yet, Goten was unable to speak. He knew what he wanted to say; that wasn’t the issue. Vegeta, I have feelings for Bulla and I want to be with her. But, when it came time to vocalize this, only silence remained.
Something shifted inside of him. He had for so long feared Vegeta’s disapproval, in both his worth as well as his connection with Bulla, that Goten forgot whose opinion mattered the most.
His own.
The epiphany struck him almost immediately. It ultimately wasn’t up to Vegeta what choice he made concerning Bulla; in fact, it wasn’t up to anyone else but himself. As much as he cared about Vegeta’s opinion, in that moment, he realized it did not matter what anyone else wanted. He knew what he wanted.
Her.
With that revelation, Goten’s eyes widened and his lungs exhaled a relieved sigh. Letting go of any and all expectations of what he should do and how he should act. How freeing it felt. It had been a long time since he was completely at ease with his inner self. Vegeta, however, had no insight to this, and grew irritable at the lack of dialogue.
“What?! ”
The bark in the elder Saiyan’s voice brought Goten back to reality. He smiled apologetically, but still, appeared more confident than before.
“I—thank you, Vegeta. Have a good night.”
Vegeta stared at him, sensing there was more to be said, but remained quiet. A signature scoff escaped his lips. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood, brat,” he threatened as he faded from view. “I don’t take kindly to people wasting my time.”
With the prince disappearing into the night, Goten could help but chuckle to himself. His eyes were now fixed on the royal wing of the palace from the outside. Bulla’s balcony was hard to see from where he sat, but he focused in that direction. “Neither does your daughter,” Goten whispered quietly. He rose to his feet, curling his fingers inside his palm before levitating. Though he entered the water gardens a man confused, Goten knew what his next move would be.
He had no intention of wasting her time any longer.
-=-=-=-
Got the music in you, baby
Tell me why
The balmy air cooled Goten as he rapidly flew against the night sky. His speed towards the terminus ahead only belied the urgency. Shoes clacked onto the balcony as he arrived; Goten stuck the landing and strutted with purpose to the door. In a normal situation, he would have knocked, but he didn’t want to risk the chance Bulla would not answer or turn him away.
He needed to see her. She needed to know.
When he entered the spacious bedroom, Goten’s ears itched with the faint humming of a hair dryer. Realizing she was up still, his heart fluttered nervously while waiting for the heiress to leave the bathroom. Goten hoped his unexpected appearance didn’t startle her, especially since he was keeping his ki low, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Got the music in you, baby
Tell me why
In the bathroom, Bulla fidgeted with the towel at her waist, tightening it further around her petite form. Her skin was freshly lathered in Souljin soaps and oils, smelling of citron and vanilla even well after finishing her shower. She ran her fingers through her now dry hair, satisfied with its soft texture; absent-mindedly repeating the motion as she found herself deep in thought. A heaviness settled in her chest, one that had been there for the better part of the day now. The encounter at the oasis left a weight she found hard to shake. It was difficult to not feel defeated; for all her efforts to appeal to Goten and his affections, he still put distance between them.
The Saiyan Princess sighed.
She supposed there was some small victory in getting Goten to admit the issue wasn’t her, and that the crux of the tension was not that he didn’t want her, quite the opposite. Still, his deep inadequacies saddened the bluette, and Bulla knew there was nothing she could do at that point to get him to face those. All she could do was hope that maybe one day he’d overcome them.
Exiting the doorway, Bulla never expected him to overcome those feelings in the middle of the night…in her own room.
Come out and haunt me
I know you want me
Come out and haunt me
A small gasp of surprise passed her lips as she clutched her towel tighter. With her guard lowered, Bulla’s eyes shone with optimistic anticipation at seeing the other hybrid unexpectedly in her bedroom. Just as soon, however, her inherited stubbornness didn’t want to give Goten the satisfaction of her excitement. Those defiant aqua eyes narrowed in on the older man. The fire inside of the heiress flickered through her ever captivating irises. Though deep down she was elated by his reappearance, Bulla didn’t want to be disappointed yet again. Doing her best to imitate her father, she scowled with all the pride of Saiyan royalty.
“Are you planning to run away again?” Bulla spat out.
Expecting the door to fly open, the Saiyan Princess’ expression relented when she saw that Son Goten remained exactly where his feet were planted.
Something was different, she thought, noticing just how assured her companion appeared. The seriousness of his face was telling, even in the dim moonlight that gleamed through the glass window. A certain sliver of iridescence highlighted dilated pupils expanding and contracting; they never wavered from the princess. His parted lips released calm, controlled breaths, and Bulla couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Goten stood tall, his back at attention; his body language more certain than ever before. Bulla’s gape followed his full lips as he spoke in a low, definitive tone.
“I’m done running,” he replied in earnest.
Bulla trembled in place as a startled exhale was all she could muster in response. The flat line of her mouth turned upwards, and the expression of joy that came over her couldn’t be faked. Her eyes glossed over with genuine relief as wordless rapture overtook.
When you're all alone
I will reach for you
When you're feeling low
I will be there too
Goten glided across the room, confidence oozing with every step towards her. If there had ever been doubts of how he felt about Bulla, all dissipated in that instance. There was no changing his mind.
In one fluid motion, Goten’s mouth attached to hers, showcasing just how true his previous declaration was. He kissed her deep; slow, deliberate, and full of intention. With his fingers snaked in her soft, cerulean hair, Goten held Bulla close as he demonstrated exactly what he wanted. Bulla was given no chance to respond, but his actions said enough for both of them.
The Saiyan Princess, bound only by a light layer of silk cotton that started to loosen upon contact, leaned into Goten with all her might. There was an urgency to her response, but the second Son slowed her down, inaudibly insisting for both of them to take their time. He wasn’t going anywhere, that much was clear. Not this time.
This was exactly where they both needed to be.
While their lips worked together to create a beautiful type of oblivion, the towel around Bulla’s waist finally fell to the wayside. Perhaps she should have reached for it, perhaps he should’ve made an attempt. But, neither of them pretended this visit wasn’t what it was; so on the floor it remained. They were both too preoccupied to notice the impending apocalypse around them: their attention was solely on each other.
Nothing else mattered.
“Your lips, my lips
Apocalypse
Your lips, my lips
Apocalypse”
“Apocalypse” – Cigarettes After Sex
-=-=-=-
Notes:
AND HERE…WE…GO! Nearly 1.5 years in the making, Goten’s done running and we are finally getting to the “eventual smut” tag (although, I guess we had a bit with Trunks/Marron already XD)
I appreciate everyone’s patience. While this is a cliffhanger, know that I’ve been working on the next chapter for quite some time. It should feel like a little bit of a shift, but this will still be the same fic just with additional…perks ;)
My biggest hope is to do the next half of this fic justice, and there is a LOT to come (pun intended and not intended haha) so thank you all for the incredible support.
Chapter 15: Goten and Bulla’s first time…maybe second…
If you’ve stuck around this long, I thank you for the continued readership. Being about to write about my favorite pair has brought immense joy to my life. It’s an honor to share these thoughts with all of you <3
-SonChan
Chapter 16: Chapter 15: Nothing Else Matters
Summary:
Chapter 15: Goten and Bulla’s first time…maybe second…
Notes:
Disclaimers: As always don’t own DBZ/GT, concepts are my own, and the name Souljin and character Kail belong to Majin_Angel_Chan
Author’s Note: I wish I could say real life didn’t get in the way of me finishing this, but sadly it did, and I do apologize. Keep me in your thoughts as I was laid off from a job I really loved due to the market and this marks the second one in two years for me. I’m an optimist in spite of the things I’ve gone through, and I certainly appreciate all the kind words and support I’ve received so far. That being said, eager to dive back into writing.
Well, you’ve been waiting. I’ve been waiting. I won’t keep you any longer. Enjoy the smut XD
Playlist Recommendations: Nothing Else Matters, Deep Inside of You
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
-=-=-=-
Chapter 15: Nothing Else Matters
Nothing else mattered. Just her. Just him.
Bulla had so many questions running through her head, yet as Goten’s lips meshed with hers over and over, they meant less and less. Everything she ever wanted was in her grasp. The man she adored more than anything locked in her arms and she in his.
Eventually, air was needed. With gentle ease, their foreheads rested against each other while they ceased their kissing. Both tried to soak in the moment. Goten still held her face with one hand, sliding down to capture her own hand with his spare. As their fingers intertwined, Bulla opened her bright pools of lapis to ensure she wasn’t dreaming.
“No more running?” Bulla asked softly.
She felt her lips taken over again by the second Son, before he pulled away and smiled at her. Still gazing affectionately at the princess, Goten tucked the loose strands of turquoise behind her ear. “I’m done running,” he repeated from before.
“Goten,” Bulla breathed.
Her lips instinctively parted to welcome another taste of him. The firm grip of his hand behind her head made Bulla mewl. How he kissed her, so full of sincerity and passion, it was as if it was the first time she ever tasted him. As Bulla’s bared silhouette pressed against his sturdy frame, the awareness of her nakedness suddenly registered. Instinctively, her hands draped across her chest, and Goten broke their kiss to see what gave her pause.
“All good?”
“I just realized I’m…” she trailed off, blushing.
Goten observed Bulla starkly, those dark pupils fixated on her form. His finger returned to gently caress her cheek, supple and crimson. “Beautiful,” he answered on her behalf.
Before she could even defend her sudden onset of shyness, Goten brought their mouths together again. Bulla’s arm, once set on shielding her bosom, fell to the wayside as she decided her arms were of better use wrapped around his neck. Nipples pressed against the elder hybrid and with their kisses intensifying, the beginnings of a light growl unfurled from the confines of Goten’s throat. Bulla knew in her bones this was different from the last time.
He wasn’t about to let her go for anything.
Scooping the princess up, Goten led them both to Bulla’s extravagant canopy bed. Draped in luxurious linen with silk bedding, the coolness of the fabric contrasted the scorching heat between them. Unable to leave her lips easily, Goten attempted to remove his tank top while still attached to Bulla’s mouth, but was unsuccessful. Reluctantly, Goten pulled back for a minute, but when a small whimper hummed in her throat from the separation, he couldn’t get his shirt off fast enough. Tossing his tank to the side, the older demi-Saiyan returned his focus to the heiress lying in wait for him.
His eyes raked over Bulla’s naked figure, the light of the moons embellishing the milky white shade of her skin. Earlier at the oasis, he hadn’t given himself permission to take in her beauty and now was making up for lost time. She was truly otherworldly. The past year of training only toned her gorgeous figure even further. Bulla was the epitome of femininity; it was easy to see why so many men admired her from afar. And yet, none of them were here so close to the princess—just him. Were it not for her luminous eyes seeking refuge in his gaze, he would have remained transfixed.
“Kami,” Goten breathed. “You’re unreal.”
The heiress shivered in place at his reaction. Redness pigmented her chest, the heat of flattery making itself known. Something about the way he looked at her when he uttered those words just stalled Bulla’s heart. Her own eyes wandered the length of his frame, appreciating each and every muscle from his pectorals down to his abdomen. A slender hand traced his stomach as she admired the combination of gifted genetics and diligent sparring that sculpted the godlike body before her. Still blushing, Bulla bit her lip in anticipation.
“You’re one to talk,” she responded back, mesmerized.
Goten had received adulation from other women before, and yet, from her lips, the compliment rang true for the first time. He, too, found himself reddened, honored she found him worthy not only in body but in the mind as well. The older man knew, however, this wasn’t the time to be coy. Determined to put his experience to good use solely for her benefit, Goten discovered his confidence once more.
He pulled Bulla into him as he kissed her, hands trailing down her back. As soon as he cupped her rear, a moan transferred from his mouth to hers; Goten squeezed tight. Bulla loved the sensation of his hands gripping her ass possessively, as if he was putting his mark there in the most gentle of ways. Others had tried and failed miserably to entice the princess with the same action, Toge being among the most recent of failures. They weren’t Goten, however. And, as his grip only increased in pressure, Bulla knew she wanted more of him.
This time, it was Bulla who brought Goten towards her, the two of them falling backwards onto the mattress, sinking into the pillows below. The pace of their kissing grew only more urgent between them. By now, Bulla was getting more accustomed with their tango, rolling underneath him. The movements only motivated Goten to continue what they started.
With his lips moving from Bulla’s mouth down southward, Goten kissed her jaw multiple times before he did the same to her neck. Goosebumps accompanied his movements, the little beads prickling her flesh. “Mmm,” Bulla purred. She felt her toes curl at the lavish displays of affection. He found a particularly sensitive spot that made her mewl, giving it ample attention before continuing his journey towards her chest.
With a brief pause, Goten gazed at the two mounds before him, entranced by their beauty. Pert and full, he was convinced they were the most exquisite pair of breasts he ever had the pleasure of witnessing up close. The shade of peach prominently displayed complimented the rest of her creamy skin. Her nipples, hardened by the night air, practically begged to be touched.
So touch he did.
Bulla hitched her breath as Goten’s thumb leisurely skated across the tip, massaging the globe in his hand. He orchestrated some additional kisses from her collarbone down until he found her other breast. With a sharp breath, his lips united them. Wrapping around the sensitive bud, Goten suckled feverishly at her teat. As he relished Bulla’s nipple hardening further in his mouth, the older man strummed the one between his fingers. Bulla skated her polished nails against the grain of Goten’s black hair, arching up as his tongue expertly danced along her bosom. Switching between the two, Goten smacked his lips with a pop, the air chilling the abandoned nipple before his hand could cover it with warmth.
With another contented keen, Bulla managed to bring his head further into her, yielding no protest from Goten in the process. He started alternating between each tit with a fervor not there before. She continued to tickle her nails against him, her lips burning with the aching memory of him attached to her there. While the Son man continued his passionate assault, Bulla could feel a somewhat heavy sensation up against her leg.
She went to lower her hand towards the bulge in his sweats, before he gently grabbed her wrist.
“Let’s worry about you first, Princess.”
The firm, confident tone he spoke in was spine-tingling and soon enough, his fingers released their hold on her. They had another assignment. Bulla held her breath.
She flinched when his strong hand reached the apex of her thighs, his movements exploring the tuft of curls guarding her womanhood. Goten stared down at her with a glossed over expression. The intense look on his face distracted Bulla for the time being, their eye contact not wavering in the slightest, almost as if he was searching for permission. Bulla nodded to confirm the unasked question and Goten understood. Her bottom lip trembled when Goten’s fingers found what they were looking for.
The contact was faintly familiar; his digits had teased her during their previous encounter at the barracks. Even with the fabric that denied them both full access to each other, it was clear that Goten was practiced with his touch. Especially, she thought, feeling it now with no barriers. Despite the amount of times Bulla did this herself, nothing could replace the ecstasy of someone else taking the lead. He leisurely rubbed the hooded nub atop her sex, prompting a rhapsodic lilt from her.
With a quickened breath, Bulla moved against him and Goten increased his speed. Between her undulating rhythm and his dexterous digits, the heiress could sense her core wettening. Goten continued to watch Bulla with great intent; the way she furrowed her brow to the round shape of her mouth when he pressed harder. If left with a choice, the older half-Saiyan would have chosen to watch her all night, touch her all night.
But, he didn’t want to just simply touch her, he wanted to taste.
Lowering himself down her slender form, Goten languidly kissed every inch of skin he came across. He could barely help himself as his lips tangled around a nipple once more, making a mental note to return later. Bulla bit her lip at the sensation. If his tongue was this impressive already, she could scarcely think at how it would feel elsewhere.
And yet, the thought did linger in her mind…
Goten continued his trek downwards, enjoying the salt of her sweat along with the natural sweetness she exuded. When he reached her hip bone, Goten removed his mouth and resumed his journey from the other direction, at the top of Bulla’s knees upwards. The waft of pheromones invaded all of his senses; his eyes pleasantly stung, his nostrils flared, and he swore he could already sample her on his tongue.
The low, guttural noise that left Goten’s throat sounded far more animalistic than human, than Saiyan even. Its resonance hummed in the air and Bulla felt a strange tingling in the pit of her stomach. Despite all the assurance she demonstrated earlier that day, the mighty Bulla Briefs now shyly lied sprawled out like a lamb before slaughter. The wolf stared her down, about to move in for the kill.
She quivered as he slowly pried her legs open, his breath tickling the inner parts of her thighs. Goten was bewitched by the sight before him, pausing for a moment to take a mental note. Bulla blushed at the newness of revealing herself in this way, but the older man’s hands had a way of exciting her in spite of the nerves. His fingers pressed deeper into the softness of her skin, gently exposing more of the princess to him. A savory keen fell out of her mouth. Bulla was certain her heart rate had to have been at an all-time high.
Her attention was brought back to Goten’s hot breath fanning itself upon her sex, her heat emanating its own sort of radiation. The look on his face seemed so uncharacteristic and yet, Bulla knew him to be the same man. He’d given her bits of this primal side in the smallest of doses. When he hovered over her grounded form during one particular spar, his passion and physicality in the water gardens, when he pinned her against that wall in the barracks…
“Bulla...”
Bringing Bulla back to reality was Goten’s soft plea for her attention. In the darkness, it was hard to see the black of his irises. Because of their ebony color, Bulla couldn’t tell if his pupils were dilated but one thing was for certain: he was a man transfixed.
“Goten,” she spoke softly. Her cheeks flushed. The bluette heard another deep rumble in the halfling’s throat before she continued. “I haven’t—I mean, no one’s ever—”
For Kami’s sake, Bulla, he KNOWS, the woman chastised in her head. The embarrassment only crimsoned her cheeks further. Goten nodded in understanding.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. He said the words with care, but still in a darkened pitch that made Bulla shiver. “We can stop if it’s too much.”
“No,”—the answer tumbled out her mouth all too freely—“I don’t want you to stop.”
“You sure?”
For a moment, the sweet Goten came back to her, his eyes less intense. Her heart fluttered at his caring disposition and Bulla was never more certain that she was with the right man for this occasion.
“I’m sure,” the heiress responded confidently.
Goten paused just for a few seconds, absorbing her words and taking it all in. Closing his eyes, the older hybrid unleashed a controlled sigh, reopening them with the same passionate look from before. Instead of returning below, he leaned in to kiss her, Bulla’s chin firmly clasped in his free hand. Goten wet his lips as they pulled apart, and whispered, “Lie back, B-Chan.”
While his voice was gentle, Goten’s baritone held a bit of command. She obeyed, gladly, opening up for him.
Within seconds, Bulla felt his strong hands press into her legs once more, planting fluttery kisses along the inside of her thighs. Another hot breath warmed her entrance sending a shiver up her spine. Bulla could sense her sex thumping in anticipation; unsure exactly what to expect, but yearning for it all the same.
For a final time, he met her gaze and his onyx orbs begged for verbal confirmation that he was okay to move forward. The almost desperate look of longing on his face surprised Bulla. A look reserved for just her. No one else at this moment he was thinking of, no one else who held such power over him. That thought made Bulla truly feel like the princess she was.
The younger hybrid knew if she had told him no at this point, no matter how hard it would be, Goten would remove himself in an instant. Despite his desires, despite his hunger…he had been a man whose self-control was firmly in check for so long. Even with those whims starting to overtake, he was still completely and utterly Son Goten: a good man with a good heart.
And that was all she ever wanted…
“I trust you,” Bulla professed in a whisper. One last reassurance that, while he didn’t ask for it, Goten felt relieved to hear again.
He didn’t respond verbally; from here on out, he’d show her through the best way he could.
Through action.
Goten lowered his lips to her bottom set, his tongue tentatively touching the flesh before him. Just a taste , he thought. But, once his mouth pressed to Bulla’s most intimate place, a spark ignited. Maybe it was the initial shock, or perhaps the innocent trill the heiress unleashed the second he did so. Whatever it was, Goten left all doubt in the past.
Apprehension soon turned into an unquenchable thirst after sampling her sweetness. His mouth watered almost as rapidly as her core was wetting. The sensation of her essence on his chin only motivated Goten to press further. For as delightful as a flavor her mouth had been, this was something else entirely. Feminine and saccharine, the pheromones mesmerized him into a trance. Her body rewarded his tongue with more of her, motivating the man to increase his ministrations.
For Bulla, the response was immediate.
Instinctively, the princess nestled her fingers into Goten’s spiky locks. She flinched at the sensation of him exploring, unable to quiet the soft keen that escaped her.
The bluette had an inkling his mouth would feel incredible, but no part of her was prepared for just how good. She was well aware that her lack of experience in this department would render her a novice. Yet, Bulla wondered if her coming undone was due to her newness or his skill.
When he circled around her sensitive bud, she tightened her grip, inclining to believe the latter.
He moaned into her, the reverberations yielding a delicious shudder on Bulla’s part. Slow laps gently coaxed the younger hybrid to vocalize further, despite her attempts to remain silent. Goten was anything but quiet as he savored her; his groans of delight elicited even more pleasure from the princess. His tongue, strong and smooth, licked a long stripe up her slit, causing her to quiver.
Bulla arched up into his wanting mouth, Goten’s ministrations intensified as she did so. The older half-Saiyan pressed further into her, the grip on her thighs tightened to try and keep her still. He buried his nose in the short pelt of blue above her core, unable to tear himself away. For him, it was a carnal need to satiate after months of denial. For her, Goten thought, it was all about bringing Bulla to the brink of ecstasy.
His eyes gazed up at hers, keeping his mouth firmly planted where it was. Black met blue as Bulla realized her vulnerability in such a state. Feeling exposed, heat graced her cheeks, and Bulla almost pulled away before Goten’s firm hands only fastened her more tightly to him. Bulla watched those dark pools blacken while his tongue’s strides became longer, more deliberate. She couldn’t help but let out an effeminate moan when his efforts redoubled around her bundle of nerves.
Forget her status as a princess; with Goten’s dutiful service to her pleasure, Bulla felt like a fucking queen.
“Goten…” her breathy voice pleaded. It was starting to build inside, that feeling she chased but could never seem to get to on her own.
Still keeping his eyes locked on hers, Goten removed his glistening mouth to place a kiss to her thigh. The sweetest of smiles showcased on his now flushed complexion. “I’m here,” he assured. Goten gave one more kiss to the other thigh for good measure. “Just let go when you can’t hold it,” he instructed, seemingly delighted by the prospect.
Before she could respond, Goten returned to his station between her thighs. He brought his lips to hers once more, finally closing his eyelids again, completely enraptured by her taste.
Bulla’s guttural cry at his renewed vigor indicated she would be reaching that state of nirvana soon. Grasping again at Goten’s onyx strands, the heiress thrusted her pelvis upwards, desperate to meet his mouth. The ferocity of his laps, the utter control behind them…a wet click whistled its way into the airwaves and Bulla trembled at the sound.
“Goten,” she uttered at a louder volume. More urgent, more needy.
“Mmm,” his muffled reply acknowledged he was still present, but clearly preoccupied. He had already been teasing her with his fingers, and now, with his mouth nowhere near finished with its task, slipped them inside her for the first time.
With her head thrown back, Bulla crooned again. One hand remained fastened to his hair, her other one covered her mouth in an attempt to quiet herself. She clenched around his digits, moaning when they’d leave, only to be delighted again when they’d returned.
A muffled curse word met her palm, whimpering with a foreign ecstasy. Goten’s fingers curled and sought out that little spot inside her. Bulla was half-convinced it didn’t exist; she could never reach it on her own. Yet, Goten seemed to know exactly where he needed to apply pressure as if he marked the map himself. Confident he located what he so eagerly searched for, Goten pressed upwards. Bulla’s groaning grew guttural as soon as he did, his tongue alternating between her clit and her opening.
The princess’ pulsating sex throbbed with the inevitable build up, already dripping with anticipation. She didn’t have time to worry about how her body would react, she just knew whatever was in store would be unlike anything she felt before.
“There…” Bulla whispered, the edge of another moan following. Goten, however, seemed to already be quite aware he was hitting that point of pleasure inside her. He pistoned his fingers even faster, determined to bring Bulla to the brink. The princess lost control of all body movements, all thought, all sense. In a flash, her world exploded.
“I—!”
Bulla was unable to finish her sentence; a scream rippled against her free hand as her body convulsed in a state of pure, unadulterated bliss. Floodwaters bursted through the dam, soaking Goten’s face, but not deterring him in the slightest. In fact, Bulla thought, he feasted on her more voraciously throughout. Tremors shook her legs as she descended from the high. Bulla could sense the emptiness in her lungs manifest in deep, desperate huffs. Below, Goten was also breathless by what occurred, removing his mouth finally in an attempt to also retrieve what oxygen he could.
As the feeling started to return to her toes, the princess gazed down at her paramour, who met her eyes with the most enraptured state. Droplets journeyed down his jawline, dripping towards the ground. Seeing his chin covered in her essence, Bulla felt herself on the verge of another orgasm.
She had never done that before.
Goten subtly licked his lips, still catching up on his breathing afterwards. The ravenous appetite for more of her bubbled up inside him. Yet, he knew that he shouldn’t push too hard, too fast.
“Do you need a minute—?”
“No,” she answered swiftly. Bulla shook her head, despite the dizziness. “No, please. I need—”
She didn’t know quite what to say. She needed him, yes, but she also needed that feeling again. Part of him inside her, like his fingers. But more.
“I need—”
Goten kissed her passionately, sharing the flavor of her on his tongue. She whimpered as his digits remained where they were, flexing a come hither motion. Bulla moaned into him as her body cantered in place. When his thumb applied pressure on her clit, her jaw slacked with pleasure.
“More,” Bulla mewled, echoing the phrase from earlier. “I need more.”
His eyebrows furrowed, inspecting the princess’ face to ensure she meant what she said. A twinge of desperation flickered in her orbs. The pulsing rhythm of Bulla’s womanhood vibrated against his fingers, hot and ready. Goten normally would have put up more of a fight for her benefit, but in that moment, amidst the smell of her sex and want, it was a losing battle.
He wanted more, too.
Withdrawing his digits, they both lamented the loss, but Goten reassured her with another deep kiss. Bulla didn’t have time to process as he pulled back off the bed. She followed his gaze while he stared at her intently, slowly undoing the string of his sweats before removing them along with his undergarments. Finally, he was just as bare as she was.
The heiress widened her eyes as his bottoms slipped off, revealing the hardened cock she had fantasized about for so long, but had yet to ever see. Even though her hands had previously palmed its outline, the sheer size of it was more than she could have imagined. Goten’s length was long and thick; noticeable veins throbbed along the shaft, leading up to a large cockhead already weeping with precum. It twitched with an exuberance Bulla didn’t expect. And, when she saw Goten thumb the mushroom head, smearing his essence as a lubricant, she almost came again on the spot.
Imagining such a thing inside her, slightly frightened, but ultimately, enticed the younger woman. Goosebumps prickled her skin and Bulla could not take her eyes off of him.
Goten found her steeled focus flattering; it wasn’t uncommon for other women to have a similar reaction, yet, Bulla’s seemed the most sincere. Something about her earnestness endeared him even more to the princess than he already was. When Goten saw the faintest hint of trepidation, it also hit him that this was the first time she saw not only him at his most bare, but any man in general.
He secretly hoped that he would be the only man she’d ever see this way, but kept that thought quietly to himself.
Realizing she was staring, Bulla cleared her throat and diverted her attention, hoping Goten didn’t notice. Amused by the coyer nature she was exuding, he approached her with a smile. Goten tipped her face towards his to reunite their mouths while he started to situate himself on top of her. Bulla backed up to the headboard of her bed, instinct opening her legs to accommodate his form.
Goten pried open her legs further with his knees, allowing for zero room between them. Their height difference only made more evident when pressed together so closely. She flinched momentarily when their lower halves were inches apart. While Goten knew the princess was strong enough to go toe-to-toe with him in a spar, there was a meekness there that felt anomalous from the proud daughter of the Saiyan Prince. Though she did her best to feign confidence, it dawned on Bulla exactly what was about to happen.
His orbs, dark and unrelenting, softened as they locked onto hers. In them, Bulla saw every ounce of concern he possessed. He thumbed her cheek, captivated and reverent.
“It’ll hurt a bit,” he forewarned. It pained him to say that, as the last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her.
The intense gaze of her eyes didn’t waver as she dipped her head in understanding. “It’s okay,” she assured. Bulla raised a palm to his cheek and mimicked the gesture. Enough moonlight poured through her bedroom windows to shine upon part of his face. Though the wildness within was there, she observed only sweetness in his eyes.
They pressed their foreheads together and Bulla nodded for him to continue. Goten fastened his lips to hers, with Bulla feeling his hardened cock rub up and down her aching, wet slit. The heiress moaned into him, her flesh already bucking against his, the motion new and yet, it felt like she had rehearsed it for years. It was as if her body already knew the start of the dance their ancestors before them performed so well.
As if her body already knew who she was made for.
Bulla spread her legs out further, a silent confirmation. Goten stroked his length, now covered in her juices, to prepare himself. Satisfied that she was thoroughly wet enough to take him, Goten gently guided the head of his cock at Bulla’s entrance, which was already showing some resistance before he even pressed in completely. He kept the tip there, but pulled back to see if there was any apprehension on the princess’ face, a final check before they passed the point of no return.
All he saw in those gorgeous blue eyes of hers was desire. For this. For him.
With a released sigh, Goten pushed through her womanhood, staking claim to what the princess was offering. Bulla barely had a chance to cry out his name when he captured her lips. He heard her whimper against him as he edged in further, stretching her slowly around his ample girth. Unshed tears tickled her eyelids open, and Bulla tried her best to not spill any. When a rogue teardrop made its way down her cheek, Goten dragged his lips across her face to kiss it away. Returning to Bulla’s mouth, she sampled the briny flavor now on his tongue. Inching the last of his length inside her, Goten grunted in contentment as her heat tightened around him. The younger halfling brayed the faintest moan, a mix of pain and something else altogether.
Raising his nose to rub against hers, the elder hybrid stared into her aqua orbs. In them, he saw the remainder of brimming tears kept in place by a proud and brave woman. “You okay?” Goten asked gently. He hardly had moved once completely submerged inside her.
Unable to formulate a full response without whimpering, Bulla merely nodded, still refusing to show any sign of weakness. Ever her father’s daughter, she was determined to power through.
His thumb traced her cheek, in awe of the beauty before him. “You’re okay,” he said more as a reassurance than a question this time. Touched, though eager to continue, Bulla lifted her mouth to meet his again, and her hips undulated against him; a desperate urge for them to resume.
Goten didn’t need to be told twice.
At a languid tempo, the two fell into a steady rhythm. Goten guided them, his thrusts gentle and unhurried. They had all the time in the world and he wasn’t about to rush this first experience, no matter how much the dormant beast inside attempted to claw his way out. Even with Bulla’s superhuman strength and genetic makeup, there was no need to escalate things.
Still, Goten marveled at how well her newly deflowered form took him. Her tightness engulfed his length and Goten could hardly remember ever feeling quite so snug inside of somebody. Granted, it had been some time since his last physical encounter but even so, there was something different about his joining with Bulla. Almost as if she was the perfect fit.
She was so gorgeous in the throes of passion; pale skin pinkened at the extremities, the hazy polish of her sapphire eyes. The way her lips parted with need when he hit that little spot. Gripped by her inner walls, it was enough to have him hiss into the crook of her neck. If he could stay inside her forever, he would.
Bulla’s head spun, stars circling around her in the best way. The initial sting started to subside, numbing into a dull pressure that didn’t seem to bother her as much. Every time Goten reentered her, Bulla would gasp at the sensation, which evidently seemed to please the man in her bed. The way his cock hardened inside made the heiress squirm with desire. Her arms wrapped around his head, pulling him even closer. Goten panted hard, his breaths desperate and erratic.
“Bulla,” he breathed.
Mewling at the sound of her name, Bulla rolled instinctively underneath the brawny frame of the older Saiyan. Every inch of Goten stretched her to the brim. To be as filled as she was, like a missing piece of her returning home, ignited a burning within.
Equivalent to a drunken stupor, her heavy eyes glossed over, beginning to feel more pleasure than pain finally. She had long wondered what this moment would be like, and could scarcely believe she was experiencing it with Son Goten of all people. The lifelong object of her affection; her childhood self would revel in the fact that she finally won not just his body, but also his heart. How lucky she felt to be in the arms of someone who cherished her as much as she cherished him. At that moment, the two were one in the same and for the life of her, Bulla never wanted to be parted.
Though Goten was learning her body for the first time, somehow, he seemed to yield such mastery of it. Each kiss, each thrust, each little touch, edged her to a precipice of delight. He returned his hot mouth to her tempered nipple, sending a shockwave up her spine. She heard a wet pop in tandem accompanied by a satisfied groan as he released her.
Continuing to pepper kisses up her collarbone and her neck, Goten suckled Bulla’s creamy skin as he dug in deeper with his movements. Bulla threw her head back in ecstasy; the combination of his mouth and manhood drove her mad.
“Goten,” she finally managed to vocalize.
Bulla heard him sigh, and when he pulled his lips away from her neck, the princess noticed Goten drenched in perspiration. He kept his dark eyes firmly on her.
“I’m here,” he whispered just like before. She softened at his consideration for her benefit. When he hit a sensitive spot, her face contorted in pleasure, and Goten couldn’t take his focus off of her.
The heiress’ frayed breaths overwhelmed her as she reached for his cheek. Though her panting prevented an immediate reply, she never wavered her stare. If the younger Saiyan’s heart could speak, those lustrous eyes of hers were the translator. Every beautiful shade of blue in her irises told him what her mouth could not.
“Goten,” Bulla repeated, even more enchanted.
The trembling of her lips indicated she was close and he wasn’t too far behind. As her mewling crescendoed, Bulla tilted her head back, every single one of her toes curling with anticipation. Likewise, Goten sought out her lips once more, his movements intensified with each thrust. Sweat dripped down his brow as he, too, was reaching his peak.
Unable to control her spasms, Bulla’s sex clenched around his length, silently urging him to release alongside her. Goten moaned against those magnetic lips, losing all coherent thought as pleasure began to render him senseless. His nose danced with hers, heavy breaths nearly knocking them out with their heat. Livening their tempo, Goten chased that feeling he had come to know so well over the years, and yet, inside of the princess, it felt almost new to him.
“I think I’m—”
Bulla stopped when too overcome. Her legs shook and all feeling left her limbs.
“Here…” Goten assured once last time in a strained voice.
The euphoric floodwaters reached their tipping point and all she could feel was explosive pleasure. With a strangled cry, Goten also arrived at his limit, emptying himself into her as he came. The warmth that filled her spread throughout her core and Bulla only continued to shake beneath her lover. His length continued to pulsate until every ounce of him was spent. Their previous vocalizations died down into heaving breathing, trying to recover as best they could.
With naught but the ambient noise of the night echoing in the distance, the two caught their breaths. They themselves were silent, but so much was exchanged in the quiet afterglow between them. Goten had collapsed his body weight on Bulla, whose strength thankfully allowed her to enjoy the close contact. Their chins found purchase over the other’s shoulder, neither wanting to move.
Goten knew, however, he’d have to remove himself from her though eventually. As he started to pull out, the older demi-Saiyan felt his leg hooked, pausing his movements.
“Not yet,” she finally managed to murmur, still buried in the crook of his neck. Drunk on this feeling, Bulla didn’t want to be separated from him just yet, and Goten didn’t dare protest.
Instead, his nose shadowed upwards. With the most leisurely pace he could muster, the older halfling trailed his lips up the length of her neck, gradually increasing the pressure of his kisses. Goten paused once he reached her mouth, hovering over as he sought her eyeline.
“Not yet,” he promised quietly.
They lingered in the silence for what felt like hours, though mere minutes. Entangling her fingers at the back of his head, Bulla affectionately traced geometric shapes. She returned his gaze, the light of her eyes twinkling. The way Goten looked at her, how she’d always prayed he’d look at her, only made the princess a wellspring of unsaid emotion.
Swallowing hard to keep the overwhelm at bay, Bulla leaned in. Goten met her halfway and gave one last, gentle kiss before finally unsheathing himself from her and rolling off. Bulla nearly whimpered at the loss. Goten more than made up for it, however. He pulled her into him, mirroring their positioning from that night on the spaceship, save for some stark differences, such as the lack of clothing this time. The similarity, however, was Goten finding refuge in those luxurious strands of turquoise. Inhaling her scent, Goten tightened his grip even in the midst of his tired eyes drooping. Soon, his breaths began to slow, falling into a rhythm of sleep with the princess fastened snug in his arms.
Gazing out her window, Bulla observed the two moons in the night almost smiling back at her. She returned a soft smile of her own as the heaviness of exhaustion began to catch up. Her eyes closed in contentment, clinging tightly to him.
“I’m glad it was you,” she spoke in barely a whisper.
Bulla wasn’t sure if he heard her, but she said it as a reassurance for herself more than anything. Yet, the arms around her strengthened their hold and a part of Bulla knew that Goten, deep down, felt the same.
She just hoped that come morning, the notorious runaway still would.
-=-=-=-
Dawn’s early beginning, a gradient of navy and orange, began to form in the Souljin sky. Too soon for the day to officially commence, and yet, the faint peek of light made its way into Bulla’s line of sight, gently stirring her from a deep sleep. Slightly disoriented from the time of day, the princess made an attempt to shift but found herself enclosed in a firm grasp. Beneath her bare breasts were the muscular arms she had been so fond of for years. Bulla’s heart rate quickened, as did the breath in her lungs.
So it hadn’t all been a dream…
Bulla draped her arms over his, keeping close that contact she desired for so long. The warmth on her shoulder came from his hot breath, still in the thralls of sleep. She couldn’t help but beam at how tightly he held her throughout the night. Here, she had worried about him running away but now, Bulla couldn’t escape his grasp even if she tried.
Perhaps, this really was a new beginning.
She shifted beneath him; turning inwards while encased in his grip. Bulla blushed as she was face to face with Goten’s sleeping form. It was not lost on her how lovely he appeared as he dreamed. Whatever peace had eluded the man since the start of their connection, Goten seemed to finally find it as he slept beside her. The heiress held her breath. Brushing his locks back, the resilient spikes sprung back into place. His brows furrowed at the contact, leaving Bulla bereft at disturbing such a peaceful vision. But oh, how she longed for his cognizant company.
The bluette caught a glance of his pupils stretching from behind hooded eyes, worried she’d see only disappointment in them. And yet, Bulla remained still, unable to tear herself away. When she was able to spy a blackened iris peeking, there was no dissatisfaction to be had, only contentment.
If there were any doubts, the soft smile on his face put those to bed.
“Morning,” he whispered, eyes still fluttering open.
Bulla grinned; her expression filled with a gentle tranquility. She could scarcely believe her good fortune at this gorgeous specimen in her sheets, handsome as ever. Even the grogginess of sleep couldn’t make him look bad. A quiet hum accompanied her response.
“Morning,” she repeated back.
Goten’s gaze gradually increased, waking fully once that shade of blue beckoned him with memory. The events of the prior evening that led to his current position flooded back to him in an instant. When he registered where he was, the half-Saiyan was surprised by his reaction, or rather lack of reaction. The second Son wasn’t panicked or nervous. He wasn’t filled with guilt or remorse. No, for the first time in a long time, Goten felt completely at peace with his choices. More so than that, he felt like he was where he belonged.
With her.
Blinking at his silence, Bulla raised an eyebrow, curious about what was going on in that mysterious head of his. “Goten?”
Goten chuckled when he realized he had been staring. He fastened his fingers underneath Bulla’s chin and reunited their lips for a sweet kiss. The action rendered the princess breathless as Goten pulled away, his hands remaining where they were.
“You’re a beautiful sight to wake up to,” he said with ample affection.
Her heart practically leapt out of her chest. She knew her long, turquoise locks were disheveled and wild. Dark circles were likely under her eyes, courtesy of their late night rendezvous. Normally, Bulla was a bit too focused on appearances, almost afraid to venture out in public until she had a chance to put her face together. But here, in his sturdy embrace, the heiress felt at ease; not worrying so much about those minuscule details. In the grand scheme of things, they mattered little. Goten saw her in the rawest form and found no faults. That thought alone warmed her bones, prickling from the inside out.
Bulla wondered if such a feeling had a name, and blushed once a possibility crossed her mind.
“So are you,” she finally responded. Her voice was meek and reverent. Dazed, yet, trying to quiet the nerves below.
A solitary laugh filled the air. “Beautiful, huh? That’s a first,” Goten teased. He yelped when her hand smacked his chest, a slight bit of red stinging his skin. “Hey!” the older hybrid remarked.
She glared. “You know what I mean!” Bulla quipped, the pinkish hue on her cheeks deepening further. The initial remnants of fury dissipated as Goten continued to laugh and pull her in close. Her features softened at the gesture, and Bulla was calmed by the soft stroking of her hair.
“Don’t worry,” he assured, “I know what you mean.”
Soothed by his sweetness, Bulla couldn’t help but nuzzle against the brawny, bare-chested frame he possessed. The entire evening she marveled at how chiseled the work of art known as his body was. Sure, for most of her life, she had been around dozens of fighters with forms akin to gods. And yet, none of them could hold a candle to Goten’s—others were too thick or too lean, and for her, he was just right.
“Good,” she said, a bit of cheekiness in her timbre.
Goten’s throat reverberated a quieter chuckle this time, reuniting their lips for another swift kiss. As his eyes raked over her naked form, he appreciated the extra light the early morning granted him. She looked exquisite in the moonlight, but something about being able to see every beauty mark and curve made Goten stir. He lowered his view, enjoying the sights along the way. Goten did, however, perk an eyebrow up in concern when he noticed a muted red spot on the sheets. A reminder of the evening’s previous activities.
A reminder of what he took from her.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asked gently, rubbing the outside of her thigh.
She was confused by the initial question, only to look down at herself to see what he was referring to. “Oh,” Bulla murmured.
It hit her at that moment that she was no longer a virgin, but rather than acting distressed, the princess seemed relieved. In some ways, though a monumental milestone, Bulla didn’t feel any different. Goten was more than attentive to her needs, something that could not be said for many women during their first time. A quiet smile crept up on her face, completely content with how their night had gone. Bulla wouldn’t have changed their evening for anything.
“A little sore,” she confessed, “but I’m fine.”
Goten’s brows furrowed, slightly disbelieving. His concern touched the heiress as she put her palm to his cheek. “Really,” she insisted. Bulla placed her lips on his before continuing. “I promise,” the heiress added.
Satisfied with her insistence, Goten returned the kiss and held her close. “Just making sure,” he said.
“I know,” Bulla responded, “you’re sweet to check.”
“You're the sweet one, Princess.”
The cheeky tone matched the suggestive expression on his face. After the initial shock of the comment wore off, the allure of its meaning hung in the air. Bulla folded her lips to prevent a chuckle, but she was too giddy by what he was getting at. “That was…” she trailed off, crimson cheeks darkening by the second. Bulla cleared her throat. “I mean, you were…”
“I was…?”
“Good at that,” Bulla finally said. “Really good at that.”
He couldn’t help but form a wry smirk at her praise. “I’m glad you think so,” Goten commented, his grasp tighter on her than before. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about the next time,” the elder Saiyan shared freely.
His ability to slip in and out of his personas made Bulla’s heart skip a beat. Next time…
“Me too,” she answered back.
That look came back to his ebony orbs; the slightest flicker of debauchery. A steady inhale seemed to quell whatever flames were in the midst of being stoked. Bulla could cut the tension with a knife.
“Guess we have that to look forward to,” Goten said with a slight tease.
Bulla chuckled quietly. “Guess so,” she answered back. Instinctively, her nails tickled the outer part of his leg, the absolute block of muscle there making for an easy surface to glide upon. It was freeing to be so openly affectionate with Goten like this in her bed. Months of trying to keep it all in was more difficult than she could have imagined. Though Bulla still had some self-doubt on exactly what to do, she tried to trust her gut and go with what felt right. As her fingers dipped inward, the bluette was reminded that she wasn’t the only bare person in the room, and the heat of him only inflamed her cheeks.
“Goten, you’re—”
“I’m?” Goten asked, perking up an eyebrow. When the blushing Bulla glanced in the direction below, he too, found himself getting rather red. “Shit,” he murmured. “Sorry, I wasn't even paying attention to that.”
The younger half-Saiyan shook her head. “It’s fine,” she reassured with a light smile. Goten offered a weak one of his own, trying to act as normal as possible.
“Just happens sometimes in the morning,”
“No need to explain to the biology major.”
A nervous laugh filled the air. She must have thought he was so dumb. “Right, the brilliant Ph.D,” Goten chuckled, “you have a point.”
“And, as we’ve established, you do too.”
The somewhat dirty joke only made it harder to hide, though Goten attempted anyhow. “We can stop talking about it,” he said, shifting but Bulla made sure to be firm.
“Goten, it’s okay,” she stated, “I don’t mind. In fact it’s—”
“What?”
“It’s well,” Bulla trailed off as she bit her lip with nervous excitement. “Kind of convenient,” she said in a lower register, her nails returning to his inner thigh. She could feel him twitch.
He took a moment to inhale, and with that breath, released the temptation of doing what she was suggesting. “You just had your first time, B,” he answered, “I don’t expect you to be raring to go so soon.”
She chuckled quietly before reaching out to rub his shoulder. “Oh believe me,” the princess insisted, “I can handle more.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Goten, it’s fine.” Bulla made sure to use her free hand to bring them closer. “It’s not like you’re dealing with a human, here.”
Her words clearly hit him as his expression switched from concern to something else altogether. “Suppose I’m not,” Goten relinquished.
“And,” she said enticingly, “you did say you were looking forward to next time…”
She remembered how he reacted during their spar when she bit his earlobe, so gently, she repeated the action, prompting what sounded to be a rather contented grunt from the older male. “No time like the present,” Bulla whispered.
Letting her words sink in, Bulla pulled back to see his reaction, but his face proved to be indiscernible. The heiress tried her darndest to interpret his puzzled expression. Deep in thought, the older man watched the length of her form with an attentiveness she wasn’t used to. Bulla noticed how he held his breath, simply in awe of what he was looking at. Even if Goten had been resistant to her persuasions in the past, the bluette could tell that whatever moral quandary he faced before, did not seem as applicable now.
A sigh finally passed Goten’s lips; one of relief as well as anticipation.
Suddenly, Bulla was flipped from her side to an upright position between Goten’s legs. She was propped up against his sturdy chest, and her body shook when she became aware of his hardness perched at the small of her back. Within seconds, the hands that had kept her at bay for months wasted no time exploring her now.
Firm yet gentle, Goten cupped her from behind, sending a surge of pleasure throughout Bulla's entire being. A quickened breath escaped her lips, her body responding in kind to his touch. Goten's lips curved into a knowing smirk against her skin, his warm breath fanning over her.
"You like that?" he teased, his voice dripping with playful provocation. Bulla managed a fervent nod, her breaths growing increasingly ragged as desire coursed through her veins. Rendered speechless, a marked difference from just minutes before, Goten took pride in the clear effect he had on her. Clearly, the second Son had not needed too much convincing.
Goten's experienced hand trailed back downwards, teasingly exploring Bulla's sensitive areas while his other hand continued to cup her with a gentle firmness. His whispered words sent a surge of heat through Bulla's body, cheeks flushing a deeper shade of scarlet. Soon enough, Goten reached the point of her he desperately sought.
“I noticed you got pretty wet last night,” Goten said, dipping his fingers between her once more. Bulla moaned as his digits slipped in and out. He momentarily smirked at her reaction to his touch, proud that his efforts were the cause. “Does that happen often?” he wondered genuinely. Before she could respond, Goten added his thumb to her clit, prompting another noise to escape the princess’ lips.
“Yes,” she declared quickly, overcome by how expertly Goten’s fingers explored her. Bulla felt his lips on her neck as his pressure deepened. “But not—ah,” the bluette had to gasp again before she could finish. “But not like that,” she confessed to him earnestly. Truly, what he helped her to achieve the night prior was unlike anything she had ever experienced on her own. He clearly knew what he was doing.
A faint rumble in his throat caused her to shake. “It was flattering,” he admitted with a rakish grin. “You must have liked how it felt, too,” Goten added, his voice getting lower.
Feeling him press harder on her clit, Bulla cooed in response. “Ah!” she gasped again. Satisfied by her reaction, Goten’s movements increased their pace. “I-I did,” Bulla shuddered. Another moan emitted while he continued. “I do,” she whispered, bucking against his hand.
He kissed the heiress’ shoulder. The smell of sex permeated the room, causing Goten’s nostrils to flare as he inhaled the scent. “I love how wet you get,” Goten murmured, plunging in and out of her with practiced skill. Bulla’s belly coiled at the sensation. Hot breath danced along her ear just as he removed himself from her. “Almost as much as I love how you taste,” he said, bringing the dampened digits to his lips.
Bulla exhaled sharply at the sight of Goten tasting her that way. Between his suggestive comments and seeing how he relished the remnants of herself, she was overcome by the carnality. This side of himself Goten kept close to the chest, but Bulla was grateful that he was finally dropping his guard around her.
“Goten,” she whispered.
His nose brushed against hers as a feverish breath escaped from behind his mouth. Goten returned his fingers to Bulla’s core just as he returned his lips to Bulla herself. In and out, his digits flexed as their tongues reacquainted themselves with one another. The princess whimpered at the action, clenching around him, and desperate for more.
So more he gave.
Their positions started to shift, as Goten laid Bulla flat on her back so he could go deeper. Bulla was amazed just how much she felt like a ragdoll in the hands of someone with Goten’s kind of strength; she found his confidence to be absolutely mouthwatering. A groan echoed as the heat of his cock grew hotter underneath her, and Bulla decided she didn’t want just his fingers inside her.
“Goten,” she repeated, less of a whisper this time.
“Close?” he asked in between kisses, his digits not wavering from their task.
“Yes, but,”—another moan took hold—“I want you inside me.”
“I am inside you—”
He hit her spot and she couldn’t contain the noise. “No, I mean,” Bulla answered as she managed to wrap her hand around him. The action resulted in an elongated hiss on Goten’s end, and Bulla started to pump. “Inside, ” she reiterated.
“Shit,” he cursed breathlessly.
“Please?”
Goten didn’t need any further convincing. He pressed his lips to hers, withdrawing his fingers and overtaking the hold she had on his cock. While their tongues continued their exploration, Goten rubbed himself against her core. Much like the night before, she was soaked to the touch. The elder halfling removed his mouth to whisper in her ear.
“Ready…?”
She nodded her head furiously, the tingling in her toes and gut overwhelming. With that, Goten entered her suddenly.
“Oh—!”
The fullness of him still ached at the onset, but Bulla’s lubricated channel accommodated his length once more. She groaned with pleasure as he returned. Her fingers grasped at the back of his head, the princess not shy about using her strength.
Goten swallowed thickly; the sensation of her walls stretching around him hardened his cock further. Though still slightly unfamiliar territory, the vise grip of her sex was slowly becoming an all-consuming need. As he ventured further into her, Goten also released a gratifying noise.
“Bulla,” he said through clenched teeth.
Their eyes met; black and blue reunited. The flushed cheeks and parted mouths scrambling for air indicated their desperation for the other. Goten knew Bulla had a clear sensual side, but for all the heiress’ earlier teasing throughout their time on Souljin, there was still something so green about her. Watching her now, besotted and bewildered, Goten felt a growl take root in his throat. Nearly possessive in a way.
He was the only one to ever see her in such a state, and that thought, more than any other thought, turned him on like nothing before.
In between the passion and the panting, Bulla managed to pull him back down for a taste. She was keeping him as close as possible. Goten continued to return the kiss as he propped her leg up higher, penetrating her to the hilt. “Kami,” he pleaded to the once-revered deity of Earth. There was no way he’d be able to last much longer.
Bulla must have known, too, that she was reaching that same pinnacle. She returned his writhing in kind, the two rocking together as if they had been doing this gambol for years. Goten dug into her without ceasing, the two nearly embedding themselves in the mattress while doing so. The heiress buried her head into his chest to muffle the shout of ecstasy that escaped her lips as she came. Another suppressed whimper edged out of her throat as she felt Goten empty himself into her once more.
He gasped for air as he pulled out of her, his length slick with their joining as they both lay flat, arms flayed, heads dizzy as they sought oxygen. Goten panted, the heat of it all drawing beads of sweat on his brow. He turned his head to see Bulla in a similar state, but whereas he looked depleted and bewildered, she looked positively sparkling.
“When can we do that again?”
Goten gave her a look of astonishment and Bulla just giggled to herself. “Don’t worry, you can catch your breath,” she said, pinching his cheek before sliding off the bed. His obsidian eyes followed her swaying hips, appreciating the better view of her backside now that the morning light filtered in. He remained speechless as she continued chatting. “I need to shower anyways.”
The thought of her all alone and all wet was nearly enough to re-erect his cock.
But, he put those thoughts away as Bulla decorated her bare form with her white satin robe. It was time for the fantasy to end and to get back to reality. Goten followed suit, finally crawling out from under the covers to redress himself. He managed to slip into his sweatpants but before he could finish putting on his tank, the princess wrapped her arms around him from behind.
“I meant to ask last night but…” she smiled shyly as heat returned to her cheeks. They had been a little too preoccupied for her to interrogate the man at the time, but now that she had his full attention, Bulla’s curiosity got the better of her.
“What changed?” she wondered.
Goten grew pensive and quiet, considering the question. He took a step forward towards her to close the gap between them. Bringing her wrist to his lips, Goten never wavered in his eye contact. “I thought about what you said,” he whispered, planting another kiss there. “About being enough,” the half-Saiyan continued on.
Her irises twinkled with curiosity. “Finally got through to you, huh?”
“You being naked didn’t hurt,” he teased, prompting a lighthearted nudge from the beautiful bluette.
“Here I thought I scared you off by doing that,” Bulla replied.
Goten grew quiet again. “I regret that,” he admitted. The older Saiyan brought his eyeline to the ground. “Shouldn’t have left you there to come back alone.”
Bulla sweetly rubbed his shoulder, commanding his attention once more. “Lucky for you, I’m great with directions,” she said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Leaning in, she continued. “I get why you did, though,” the princess responded. “I just didn’t understand why you couldn’t see what I see in you.”
Her eyes were full of concern and tenderness. “I hope I can someday,” Goten replied. Placing his hand over hers, he slowly returned her warm touch. The younger woman smiled at the contact.
“Still,” Bulla started again, “something must have clicked then.”
“Getting there,” Goten said, still a bit reflective. Figuring it was enough for now, he finally finished putting on his tank. He would’ve changed the topic altogether, but noticed Bulla was expecting an actual answer. Before she could get too worried, the elder hybrid cleared his throat. “Your dad helped, actually,” Goten professed.
“My what did what now?”
The sheer look of horror on Bulla’s face made Goten immediately regret his phrasing. “No!” Goten laughed, pulling her in close. “No, not like that,” he added in a quieter tone. The older man took a deep breath. “He just…reminded me that I am who I am. I don’t think he realized how he helped, of course, but oddly enough your father’s pride has a way of rubbing off on people.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, the heiress calmed herself. “Oh good,” she said. “I was worried you told him about us.”
Bulla chuckled again until she realized she was the only one. Goten’s face fell, clearly contemplating that very scenario. Though it had been a distant worry of his prior to consummating things with Bulla, the thought of seeing Vegeta after this made him nervous. There was a shift in Goten, enough to catapult him into the princess’ arms without remorse, but he’d always have his reservations around her father and brother.
Her brother…
Shit. Her brother.
His best friend. He had just fucked his best friend’s little sister…twice. Friendships ended over less. Goten’s fingernails dug into his palms.
“Guess I’m just now realizing this may be tough to share,” he murmured.
For a moment, concern graced Bulla’s face. “Don’t tell me that changes things?”
“I don’t have any regrets,” Goten confessed, “but I’m not one to keep things from your brother, or your father for that matter. Let alone everyone else we happen to be here with.”
It sank in for Bulla. “Right,” she trailed off, deep in thought. They weren’t exactly surrounded by privacy, and yet, the princess tried to put her intelligent brain to use on how to proceed.
“Maybe we should just…continue to keep this between us for now.” The suggestion came easily, but even so, Goten was surprised to hear it spoken aloud.
“You mean…in secret?”
“It’s not like we haven’t been already to an extent.”
She wasn’t wrong. This whole song and dance since her birthday had been relegated to just the two of them trying to figure it out. Others seemed to notice here and there, but it mostly existed in the quiet only they knew. Perhaps it added to the allure, yes. However, in that same token, it added to the stress.
The absolute monumental stress that only came with trying to keep secrets from the second strongest man in the universe as well as his nearly just as strong son.
“Bulla, I—”
“Look,” she reasoned, “I’m not saying we have to do that forever, but maybe just while here on Souljin. I know I’m asking a lot but with everything else going on, it’s not like people are as tuned in as they would be on Earth, you know?”
“Yeah, but—”
“Just for now, I just want to have some time without interruptions.” Her fingers walked up the length of his chest, matching her coy voice. “Goten,” she said quietly, “please?”
She was desperate to keep him, and she wasn’t about to let her family or anything else come in the way of that. Not when she finally had him.
Goten’s eyes shimmered looking at her pleading face. It had always been hard to refuse the princess and now was no exception. Though every neuron in his brain begged him not to, that not coming clean now would yield some horrific consequences eventually, there was that little voice goading him to accept.
“For now,” he swore.
Almost immediately, Bulla jumped into his arms for a snug embrace. Surprised by the action, it took a minute for Goten to process, but as the familiar waft of her tropical shampoo tickled his nostrils, he smiled. His muscular arms wrapped securely back around her, never wanting to let go. Bulla’s face heated when he returned the gesture, only hanging onto him even more tightly. As the moments passed, each millisecond precious and important, Goten reluctantly parted the two. However, his hand cupped her cheek, still keeping some contact.
“I should head back before everyone else wakes up,” Goten said somewhat soberly. He still held Bulla’s face in his hand, unwilling to relinquish her despite his words.
“That would be best,” Bulla cautiously agreed, though her own tone indicated she did not want him to leave just yet.
“It would,” Goten answered. Brushing his thumb against her cheek, an amused sigh hung in his throat. “And yet,” he conceded, “this is the only place I want to be.”
The words made Bulla’s heart flutter.
“You can always come back…” Bulla trailed off with a blush. She smiled as thoughts of repeating the previous night’s activities flashed through her head. “I can leave the balcony door open, maybe tomorrow night or the next…”
“How about tonight?”
The question managed to surprise the heiress with Goten’s eagerness. Bulla arched her brows, intrigued. The earnest way he gazed into her eyes said everything he didn’t say aloud; he was completely enamored.
“Tonight?”
“Yeah,” Goten confirmed, “even then, it seems so far away.”
This only deepened the shade of pink on her cheeks. “Patience is a virtue, Son Ten,” she teased.
He pulled her in and kissed her hard, helping himself to a handful of her rear while doing so. Bulla returned the exchange with a whimper, clinging to him as if he was her only source of air. Panting, they parted, and Goten bit his lip before a smirk formed. “Feeling a little less than virtuous around you, Princess,” he admitted as he squeezed her bottom. She squealed with delight, the grip around his neck even tighter than before.
“Clearly,” Bulla jested. She brought their lips together again. Her palm shook but flattened itself against his massive chest. “Who are you and what have you done with Goten?” the bluette wondered cheekily.
“Still me,” Goten assured. His arms wrapped around her frame, tightening their embrace. “If anything,” he continued, “I feel more like myself right now than I have in a long time.”
“You do?’
As soon as the words left her throat, Bulla felt Goten’s careful touch place loose strands of hair behind her ear. He quietly admired her features; every speck of her irises, every beauty mark, every wisp of hair, forgetting every protest he had ever previously offered. He wanted her. He wanted to keep wanting her.
And nothing, not even himself, would change his mind now.
“Tonight then?” Goten reconfirmed.
Bulla blushed once again at his eagerness and let out a lighthearted laugh. “Tonight,” she agreed.
He nodded in confirmation. The two walked onto the balcony, it was evident more of the daylight had bloomed during their morning tryst; casting long shadows on the concrete, but still dusky enough to not witness much activity beneath them. To be safe, Goten cautiously made sure the coast was clear below. Aside from a pair of guards observing the opposite direction of the water gardens, he saw no additional movement. Once satisfied, Goten prepared himself to take off. As he started to levitate, however, something brought his attention back towards the Saiyan Princess. Lifting her eyebrows at his wordless expression, Bulla was inquisitive as to what had him distracted.
“Wait, one more thing…”
Goten turned back around to kiss Bulla for a final goodbye, leaving the heiress breathless as he placed his mouth to hers. What number kiss it was, she knew not, but it always felt like it was the first. She could barely register what was happening by the time Goten pulled away, her eyelashes fanning her cheeks with curiosity. With a wink, the older man flew towards his own room, attempting to make it before the others started to rise for the day.
Bulla watched him go with rapt attention, and though it always stung to see him depart from her, this time around, she couldn’t help the smile that crept on her face. Her fingers delicately brushed against her swollen lips as her body hummed with the memory of him inside her. Heat inflamed her perfectly porcelain skin tone, beads of perspiration forming in spite of the morning breeze blustering by.
Before her loins could burn even brighter on the balcony, the princess rushed back inside her room and leaped, arms and legs splayed out, onto her bed in a fit of giddiness. It felt reminiscent of her first day on Souljin, eagerly enjoying her accommodations, and yet—that already seemed like a lifetime ago. If only she could tell her slightly younger self what would transpire over the next week. Bulla didn’t know if she would believe it.
But this was the truth: Goten wanted her and she wanted him.
Nothing else mattered, Bulla thought. Not when everything finally felt so right.
-=-=-=-
Notes:
WHEW. I’ve had a good chunk of this written for a while so I hope you all enjoyed the double heaping of lovin’ here. These two will definitely be making up for lost time over the next few chapters ;)
We have SO much more to explore and some interesting elements will start coming into play soon. In the meantime, I wanted to give my thanks for all those who have commented, given kudos, and contributed to the story hits. It’s only because of amazing readers such as yourselves that I have been able to keep this little love letter going.
Chapter 16: The sordid affair begins; though difficult to keep secret, neither Goten nor Bulla have plans to stop. As their other travel companions find themselves preoccupied with their own issues, the two newfound lovers take advantage of the extra time.
Thank you all for the amazing love and support! <3