Safe on Earth, buried beneath a soft pink, feathery comforter, Bra slept quietly. Her turquoise hair was tangled around her face, spilling across the fluffy pillow, and her arms were loosely clutching the worn teddy bear that her mother had given her so long ago. She turned around in her sleep and suddenly her eyebrows were drawn together in a tight scowl.

There was white all around her, so bright and crystal that it hurt her eyes, and she squinted to see through it, to make out any sort of shapes. She was knee deep in the snow, and it was cold against her legs, causing her teeth to chatter innocently, the only noise she could hear. There were splotches of red everywhere, deep and dark, and when she bent down to examine it, she realized it was blood. She gasped and pulled her little hands away, staring down at all of the blood in horror. There was a flash, and then her father was there with her.

Vejiita stood in the middle of the snowy field, blood all over his hands, with a murderous expression on his face. He leaned his head back and howled in anger, holding his hands out in front of him and shaking droplets of blood to the snow. “I promised!” He screamed at her, his eyes turning jade and pupil-less. “Chikushoo! I fucking promised!”

Rage seemed to squeeze out of him like droplets of rain, and it puddled around his feet, until he was standing knee deep in blood. He was covered in it, his skin entirely red with it. He kept on screaming, making no sense now, and Bra threw her hands over her ears, trying to drown out the sound and squeezed her eyes shut so she wouldn’t have to see all the blood. “Otousan, stop it!” She pleaded.

There was another flash, and then Vejiita was gone, along with all of the blood. Bra opened her eyes and gazed around her, still horrified. The snow was cold and she shivered, tears rolling down her cheeks. She heard several whispers from an evil voice, cruel taunts that weren’t directed at her, but still hurt. Her chin trembled and she looked around, trying to find the source of the voice.

Her eyes widened when she saw her mother kneeling in the snow, several feet away. Sobbing, she ran to her, suddenly needing to be held, needing to be comforted. Bulma’s eyes were closed and her face was expressionless, but Bra still ran to her, scared. She grabbed onto her, expecting to be held, to feel her mother’s soft arms wrap around her, but instead, she stood as still and cold as a statue. Bra shook her gently, and pulled back to look at her face.

Her mother’s eyes were open now and appeared, blank and lifeless, snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes. “Okaasan?” She inquired apprehensively. There was no response. She shook her gently again and Bulma just fell lifelessly to the side. Blood started oozing up from the snow and pooling around her feet, drowning her mother’s body slowly with thick, dark redness. There was a flash of metal, another spray of blood, and then she was covered in it, from head to toe.

Vejiita started howling in anger again, some evil demon started whispering in her ears, and her mother’s face appeared through the ocean of blood, dead and pained.

Bra let out a terrified scream.

“Okaasan!!” She screamed, waking up out of her dream. She sobbed into the sleeve of her pajamas, her hair damp with sweat and her pillow soaked with tears. “OKAASAN!!”

“Vejiita! Matte!” Bulma called in a breathless voice.

Vejiita didn’t hear her, he was too busy making the trail ahead, wading through the deep snow in an effort to clear the path for her.

She called to him again and her voice was distorted by the wind and the snow, but he heard her this time, and turned to face her. She was running towards him through the snow and it kicked up around her in a low cloud, snowflakes flying everywhere. Before she reached him, she stopped for a moment and stared at him, smiling softly. He was struck by how beautiful she looked, amid all the whiteness, her soft turquoise hair blowing in the wind. He stared back at her; at her shining blue eyes and beautiful face, and allowed himself to smile along with her. That secret smile that only she was allowed to see.

A voice in the back of his head warned him of immediate danger, but he was so caught up in her beauty and the happiness of the moment that he chose to ignore it. Just in the past few hours, they had become so much closer. She had always been a part of him, yes, but now it felt as though she had been molded into his second half. There had been many times when he showed her his true self, allowing his defenses to fall for brief snatches of time, unconsciously terrified that she would shun him or think that he was weak. But he was wrong. She didn’t think that he was weak for showing affection, or less of a person because he was kind to her. She only loved him more. A warm, unconditional love that always hit Vejiita straight in the heart.

And though she knew the ‘true’ Vejiita, there was no real sense in hiding it from her, but the games that they played, the teasing and prodding, had always been fun for both of them. It wasn’t that they were cruel to each other; they both knew what they were saying, and how far they could go. Their games weren’t hurtful, but playful, something that brought them back to childhood again.

He crossed his arms. “Are you coming or not, woman?”

She smiled even bigger, and her eyes twinkled merrily as she plodded through the snow at a quicker pace, trying to catch up to him.

Again, the voice in the back of his head screamed, “danger!”. Vejiita began to feel unease in his heart, his fingers tingling as if he had been touched with a live wire, pain shooting straight to his heart. Somehow he was very aware of the fact that the next few seconds were going to change his entire life. He wanted to speak, wanted to warn her of the unseen danger somewhere through all of that whiteness, all of that cold and unrelenting snow. He wanted to run and grab her, to fly away from any danger and keep her safe, keep Bra’s promise, bring her home. Instead, he froze.

Then his eyes diverted, catching sight of a shadow; behind her --- to the side of her, he couldn’t tell. It came so fast and so suddenly that he was unable to comprehend what was going on; he only knew that she was in danger.

He couldn’t tell what happened at first, only saw the flash of metal to the side and then through the center of Bulma’s abdomen. There was the sick sound of metal slashing through flesh, and it fell into an echo, joining the wind. Bulma’s body lurched forward, and she stared at him with a look of shock and pain, her blue eyes wide looking down at the end of the sword that was protruding through her body. She touched it with her pale hands and as soon as she gripped it, the sword was jerked back, slashing across her hands and splaying blood all over the pristine white snow.

Pi stood behind her, the bloody sword in her hands, staring at Vejiita with a calm expression.

“Ah….Ah….” Bulma tried to speak, blinking her eyes rapidly as she stared at all of the blood. Vejiita took a step forward, his eyes burning, still trying to understand what had just happened to his mate --- not wanting to believe it. She looked up at him, and he could see death in her perfect blue eyes.

She held on for a moment, gazing at Vejiita with that sickening look of pain marring her beautiful face. And he thought of all the times that he had stared into her eyes, getting so hopelessly lost that not even his pride could dig him out. No matter how angry he was, no matter how frustrated he was, once he stared into her eyes, almost everything was forgotten. He didn’t know how she did it, or what it was about her, but something about Bulma made him lose himself every time.

Suddenly he realized what had just happened, and it hit him hard. Bulma had just been killed. Bulma had just been impaled by a sword. His Bulma. His mate. The one person that he was to spend the rest of his life with, because without her, there was no life. He took another step forward, still staring into her beautiful eyes.

She blinked again, and then her eyes slowly closed and left nothing but dark eyelashes against pale skin. Then she fell to the snow, her hand falling out in front of her, blood dropping carelessly around it, dying the fresh snow a deep red.

He stared, not able to see anything but her hand, the snow, and the blood….So much blood that it made him sick. It made him sicker to imagine that it was her blood that he spilled onto the cold unforgiving snow. Beating in his ears loudly, his heart began to ache painfully and he clutched at it, wanting to rip it out. He wanted to die, to be with her, even in death, even in pain. He ran forward, still reeling at the blood, at her death, and his scream tore through the winter wind.

“BULMA!!”

It was too much for him to handle, and as he screamed her name, his dark eyes glazed over with pain and his voice struggled to make the out the word --- his anger and pride fighting like hell against his sorrow. There was something there that moment, something that no one had ever seen come from him before as he carelessly shed his callous skin to reveal the man that he really was. He had been hiding it for so long now that couldn’t for the life of him, remember what it was like to open yourself up to someone and become so damn weak in their eyes.

He reached her and wrapped her up in his arms, clinging to her unresponsive body as he kneeled in the deep snow, not even feeling the cold. Her blood was all over the place, still falling, and the deep red that had already fallen was sinking into the snow so that only small pin points of dark red remained there, small blemishes on the vast stretch of spotless snow before him. The wound through her middle was terrible, her clothing soaked in deep red. Vejiita refused to look at the wound. All he wanted to see was her face. All time slowed down to nothing then, and the wind began to blow the snow into a near blizzard around them. It spun dizzyingly, creating a blur of colors and light in front of his eyes, spare snowflakes landing in her hair, on her face.

“Are you done grieving yet?” A harsh female voice asked, ruining his moment. “I haven’t got all day.”

His eyes tore themselves away from Bulma’s face to glare up at Pi. She stood near him, the bloody sword in her hands, flipping it around to show off her skill. She paused for a moment, and held the sword straight out in front of her.

“Nice cut work, eh? This is a great sword.” She informed him. “By the way….”

She walked closer to him, ignoring the look of absolute rage in his dark eyes and bent down to examine Bulma. “I always get revenge. Always.”

Revenge for what? All this for….what? His muscles tensed up, but he did not move, still glaring up at her. Then something started burning inside of him, and it was so strong that it surprised him. It felt like anger, but it was so much stronger than that; tangible, as if he could drink it, taste it on his tongue. He blinked.

Pi continued to goad him on. “Besides, you should never have mixed royal Saiya-jin blood with the weak human race. This is the punishment you deserve. I’m surprised you let yourself fall for an earthling.”

“Or perhaps I’m not that surprised at all, because….”, she leaned down and whispered into his ear. “You’re weak bastard.”

“Our Saiya-jin race is stronger than you, baka!” She continued. “And we aren’t even royal blood! How insulting is that? I bet it just tears away at your pride doesn’t it? Did you want to be the best, did you want to be the Super Saiya-jin, Vejiita?” She laughed. “You were always weak. You and your entire family! My father should have been King long ago. This entire thing could have been avoided if only your stubborn egotistical family could have stepped down when they should have!”

This she had hoped would bring a reaction, but Vejiita merely looked away from her and looked down at Bulma again, his heart aching, still feeling the burning inside of him.

“Will you stop clamoring over her? She’s dead!” Pi screamed in frustration, and grabbed Bulma’s body suddenly away from Vejiita, throwing her into the snow several feet away. Her blood was all over now, flung out in an arc in the snow, pooling around her now.

Vejiita blinked again, still staring at Bulma’s form, lying haphazardly in the cold snow. His heart began to ice over with anger so hot that it was almost unbearable for him to look at her or even allow his mind to think of her. Then it surrounded him suddenly, the power swirling around him silently and invisibly, and he kneeled quietly, waiting for the inevitable to happen. The strength began surging throughout his limbs, throughout his entire body, burning all the way through. His hands, soaked in his mate’s blood, began to tingle and shake, and all of his muscles and tendons and reflexes sprung to life --- waiting for the moment, waiting for the kill. The anger rushed through him like fire, until he felt like his entire body was filled with it, living it, breathing it, and clouding his eyes over with the color red.

Chapter 72
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