Hi! Thank you for the super nice comments! About this story: Not that you think the wrong thing about me: This isn't a `Vegeta-Bulma` love story or something, no! It reports on ... huh ... just read. With this I try a different ff direction.




Feelings


I run. Keep walking I can't anymore ... don't want to anymore. I'm running from myself, from my feelings. How could he do this to me? I can feel him running after me to apologize, but I don't want to hear his lies anymore .. but ... I don't want him to be honest with me either. I'm afraid. Fear of the truth. But ... what is truth? I do not know it anymore. I do not know anything. Panting, I lean against a cold wall in a dark alley. This environment is like me ... dark, cold; like my soul. My breath is jerking. I could easily be attacked here, but what could be worse for me? Raped, robbed, or continued to believe your lies in hopes of some truth and find out it was just a dream?I just don't want to anymore. My limbs feel stiff, I'm cold. I slowly sink to the ground on the wall. It's starting to rain, but I don't care. I don't care about anything. Why was he doing it again? Why? Was our time together so unimportant to him? The rain runs down my hair, drips incessantly on my face, where it mixes with my tears until it finally drips onto my sweater or my skirt. In my stormy escape I had forgotten my jacket. But what did it matter if I caught a cold here? Who would mind? A call makes me startle, echoes clearly through the night to me. He calls for me, wants me to answer. But I do not want to. I don't want anything anymore, never more. His voice seems to get louder and I sink into myself. It seems like he's scouring the whole city looking for me. After me ... My thoughts, as well as his last words, echo in my head over and over again.I shake my head in despair and cover my ears, even though I know this behavior is pointless. "... It's not what you think! Wait! ... It's not what you think! ... Wait ... Wait ..." I sob softly. It's never what I think I want to hate him, but I keep seeing his mysterious smiling face in front of me. How he always looked at me. He used to be marked by deep malevolence, but I wanted to heal his emotional scars, although I know that scars usually last for life. He used to be angry, sometimes still is; hard on the outside, but vulnerable and thoughtful on the inside. He always looked at me so gently. So gently ... I sink into a dream, of a future together with him, of a future in which nothing is not what I think. Why do I still think of him so intensely? I want to hate him, but why is it so bloody hard for me ?! No more lies, never again.I just don't want to anymore. Well, I think sarcastically, before I left he was honest too.


His calls have long since been drowned in the rushing rain. Would he really have wanted to find me, could he have felt my aura, couldn't he? He's such a strong warrior ... At least he was in my eyes. He has been defeated many times, but still never gave up. I sigh inaudibly. The hours we'd spent together were now probably just a rapidly fading memory. He didn't need me to be happy, he had ... no, I don't want to think about this anymore! Neither about him nor about my messed up life. When I first met him, I didn't like him at all, yes, I hated him. He was so arrogant. But as I got to know him better, I also understood him better. Unlike most of them, he hadn't had a real father, none at all, so to speak. For a couple of years I don't think he knew he had a father.When I understood this fact, I also understood, to some extent, his rough behavior. Well, only in retrospect did I realize that I loved him. It took a long time, but when I realized it and learned to really love him, a new chapter in my messed up life seemed to dawn. I wanted to put an end to all the failures who had taken advantage of me. He seemed completely different. But he lied to me too. Why? My tears seem to have run dry. I slowly get up, swaying. My clothes are soaked in the rain. Soaked and sad, I make my way home to the C.C .. He seems to have given up his search. Another proof that I am of little value to him. I just don't want to anymore, don't want to see his face anymore. No more. But how should I do that? He would find me no matter what I did. I walk slowly, at some point I have to face him again. He didn't care why he didn't care?I trusted him. What was I naive again? The others must have been worried. Maybe maybe not.


[...]


"God, where have you been? Bulma, she's finally back!"


"My goodness, I was worried! Never do that again! You know how dangerous the neighborhoods are at this time of day! Where have you been? No, wait, you're completely frozen, first take a hot bath, then let's go." you better! "


Your words weigh me down, the words of the people I thought they didn't care about either. Thankfully, I take a hot bath. the warmth returns to my body, but the coldness of my soul remains. Maybe I'm just not allowed to be lucky ...


[...]


Oh dear! I must have fell asleep in the bathtub! I get dressed quickly and want to go downstairs when I hear an angry voice from below. Bulma's voice. I get curious and want to go downstairs, but when I reach the 2ndHear the voice, I stop on the stairs.


Bulma: "How could you do that to her ?! You know very well that she hates it when you ..."


"It was nothing!"


"Oh yes ?! You had to start again, huh ?! But she has already given you a concession with ... Stay here when I talk to you!"


I hear quick steps. I realize with horror that the steps are approaching me. And here on the stairs I can hardly be overlooked. I want to flee, but my legs are nailed down. Then he steps into the hallway and sees me.


My legs obey me again and I want to flee up the stairs to my room, but he calls me back.


"Wait, stay here!"


"I don't want to hear any more of your lies!"


"But Yamcha, it wasn't my coke after all, Vegeta and Kakarott tore past me and lost it! I just wanted to give it back to them! You know that I only smoke joints!"

"Is that true?"


"You know me!"


{impersonal view}


With that, Yamcha fell down the stairs, got up with a plaster on the back of his head, and fell back down.




Sooo, well, a little different from the other stuff I usually make, but the thoughts just came to my mind ...


PS: Yamcha’s soul has thawed again!