“Kakarott” his voice gruffly moaned out in frustration as he tossed a few more times in his makeshift cot on the edge of the darkened room. A dainty figure watched in the shadows, the way he moved under the sheets, the sweat trickle down his brow as it furrowed with feeling echoing his voice. The figure leaned against the doorframe and watched longer, sighing to herself in resolve. This night, like so many other nights, she had awoken to the sound of her husband crying out her long time friend’s and his long time rival’s name. How many more nights would she have to spend this way until he finally gave up his oblivious obsession with conquering Goku? How many? From the time she had first shared his bed, other than the obvious, there was nothing else between the sheets than his constant battle to best the younger saiyan. Some nights there would be peace, but most were filled with groans of Kakarott’s name in various different tones, some similar to the ones she had moaned his name.
Bulma stroked the wood beneath her fingers, giving a silent prayer for strength, for the next day was not to be an easy one. She let her arms fall to her sides and let her shoulder connect roughly with the doorframe she was leaning on. Tomorrow wasn’t going to go well, she felt it in her gut, and the pains in her heart yet she could not deny the fact that she has been keeping the pain in too long. Wincing at the thought, she straightened and turned her back slowly to the sleeping figure to a separate room. “Goodnight Vegeta” she whispered.