same subject again. Yamcha thought Bulma's jealousy was exaggerated while she accused him of being a womanizer. They both knew they were exaggerating and hurting each other, but this kind of argument was almost a bitter habit. Yamcha could not harshly turn away a pretty girl and Bulma already saw red if he only explained the way to a girl.
<br />
"I'm ... I'm sorry, Yamcha. Really."
<br />
Yamcha sighed. He felt that Bulma meant it honestly and her sad face almost overturned his resolutions. But Poo, who was floating a step behind him, cleared her throat and he took a deep breath.
<br />
"I'm also very sorry, Bulma. I still like you, but ...", he searched desperately for the right words, "but it's just not like it was back then."
<br />
Bulma swallowed. This thought had crossed her mind several times, too.Not like back then. Back then ..... back when they realized that they liked each other.
<br />
Unnoticed by the two of them, Vegeta had come out of the spaceship and overheard the dialogue between door and hinge. He couldn't explain why he didn't just announce his presence, tell them they were in his way, and march through the door into the house. Instead he stood silently in the shade of a tree and did not move.
<br />
"All right," Bulma forced an answer, "it's not like it used to be, but we ... we ... still love each other!"
<br />
Yamcha rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. He hadn't thought that it would be so difficult that she would make it so difficult for him ... when he had put all the sentences together and rehearsed a reply for every argument in his mind ... but now the fluent sentences wanted him not really over the lips, sounded so hollow ... Finally he took heart and said what had gone through his head in the last few nights, when he lay awake for hours in the dark and stared at the ceiling had: "Do we really still love each other, or is it just a habit that we are together, a habit that has become dear, but", he saw the sadness in her eyes and groaned inwardly * I don't want to hurt her, but when we don't make a clear cut, then none of us can take a new chance wholeheartedly and I don't want less, not for her ... * he braced himself against her hurt look and took a deep breath, "but I don't think that we are still real I love.Maybe we never have ... "Bulma flinched and opened his mouth, but he held up his hand." Wait, of course we fell in love with each other, no question, but ... but this fire has long been extinguished. Do you still get palpitations when I walk into the room? Butterflies in my stomach when I hug you surprisingly? Does the universe stand still when I kiss you? Does your hand feel for me when I get up in front of you to go to training? "
<br />
Bulma closed her mouth and stared at the floor. When she looked up after a few moments there was still sadness in her gaze, but no bitterness and no pain. Yamcha breathed a sigh of relief.
<br />
"I ... I never really thought about it. I said it just has to be like that when you're together longer ..." she said haltingly. Then she wrapped her arms around Yamcha’s neck and hugged him. "I'm sorry, so sorry, I didn't know that you suffered, that you missed something ..."<br />
Yamcha closed his eyes and put his arms around her. Hold her one last time, breathe her scent, feel the silky smoothness of her hair, her warmth ... "I'm sorry too," he said hoarsely, "I should have asked myself these questions earlier, then maybe we would have done something can rekindle the fire ... "
<br />
He felt her shake her head and although his shirt was damp from her tears, she didn't shake. There were silent tears, tears for their childhood love, tears of parting. “No,” her voice sounded slightly choked, but firm, “what happened cannot be undone. I won't stop you Yamcha.” She freed herself from his embrace, took a step back, and wiped it with her hand Tears away and smiled. "Thank you for the great time we had together. We'll stay friends, right?"
<br />
He swallowed the lump in his throat and grinned. "Of course it is.The very best of friends. Whenever you need me, I'm always there for you. "
<br />
"Thank you, me too for you!"
<br />
He stepped up to her again quickly, lifted her chin gently and gave her a quick kiss. It hurt, damn it, because she was still as beautiful as she was then, no, much more beautiful, more mature and through the grief also more vulnerable, more feminine, but he couldn't go back now. It was best that way.
<br />
"I'll go then," he said, took his belongings and with Poo in tow he marched away from the house. He heard her turn and go into the house. Vegeta wasn't sure what to think of what he'd heard. Earthlings and their relationships ... such a mess and such a waste of time and energy.
<br />
"You don't need to hide, Vegeta," said Yamcha as he stepped past the tree. "You are much stronger than I can ever be, so take good care of Bulma. But if you break her heart, I don't give a damn that you're a prince and a Saiyan ...."<br />
"Phhh!", Vegeta shook his head. He didn't understand what to do with the whole mess between Bulma and Yamcha.
<br />
As if Yamcha had read his mind, he winked at him goodbye with a half sad smile. "You'll find out soon enough ..." With that cryptic remark, Yamcha walked away, leaving a still confused Vegeta ...
<br />
...................
<br />
<br />
The further conversation between Bulma and Chichi no longer interested Vegeta.
<br />
A snow training. Cold, storm, hardly any visibility. Extreme conditions ... Should Kakarot be ahead of him again? Vegeta clenched his fists. This third-rate fighter would not have this lead for long ...
<br />
Vegeta went outside and looked up at the sky. The clouds had thickened and it had become significantly cooler. A few scattered flakes were already driving the gust. It would take a while before the storm broke completely.No, here in Bulma's front yard was not the right place to challenge the full force of the elements. Vegeta decided to wait outside the city for the snowstorm to break out.
<br />
"Where are you going?" He heard Bulma's questioning voice behind his back.
<br />
"I'm doing some special training outside of town," he said reluctantly. Not that that was their business ...
<br />
"Better to wait until the blizzard is over."
<br />
"No chance. I don't want Kakarot to gain any more advantage."
<br />
"What lead?", Bulma shook her head blankly. A cold gust of wind made her shiver. "Since you overheard my conversation with Chichi, you will know that Gokou, Gohan and Piccolo are now sick in bed ... Do you call that a head start?"
<br />
"Basically, Kakarot is a wimp. I've been to planets with different climates for years, I can't be harmed by such a small storm."<br />
With that he flew away.
<br />
"Such a stubborn fool," scolded Bulma and stomped back into the house. "Should he get a cold when he's so stubborn ..."
<br />
She went into the bathroom and scrubbed the tub. She noted with satisfaction that the black special armor had evidently defied Vegeta's strength.
<br />
"Has he left his sweaty clothes lying around again", she scolded in a low voice and picked up the dirty laundry with pointed fingers. "He probably never learns how to use a washing machine."
<br />
She tossed his stuff in the machine and added some washing powder. After a moment's hesitation, she poured another shot of fabric softener into the appropriate compartment. No matter how hardened the moody Saiyan was, the pile with the fluffy tops was always gone faster than the few who had purposely left off the fabric softener because they had been mad at him again.
<br />
"Darling, are you coming to dinner?", her mother called questioningly from the kitchen.
<br />
“In a moment, mom!” She slammed the lid of the washing machine and started the washing program.
<br />
Her mother had again dished in abundance. "Where's our house guest?" She asked when Bulma sat down.
<br />
"He wanted to put in an extra shift," Bulma said curtly and picked up the chopsticks. "Let us eat!"
<br />
“But in this weather!” Her mother looked worriedly through the window. Meanwhile the sky was completely dark and you could hear the storm raging.
<br />
"Should he do what he wants!", Bulma shoveled a few fried pepper pieces into her mouth and took a hearty sip from her glass. "He's old enough to know what's good for him."
<br />
She choked and coughed.
<br />
Her father had opened an inventors' club magazine next to his rice bowl and absentmindedly took a piece of meat from one of the platters. As soon as he had it in his mouth, he was already gasping for air and pouring his beer down his throat in one gulp."Water water!"
<br />
"Here darling", his wife handed him the carafe and he didn't even take the time to pour the water into a glass, but drank straight from the carafe.
<br />
"That's the red sauce that our house guest likes to eat," said Bulma's mother. “You don't take it so keenly, darling.” Turning to Bulma, she added: “Men are never old enough to know what is good for them.
<br />
Bulma almost dropped her chopsticks. "You mean I have to make sure that Vegeta is okay?"
<br />
"Aren't you already?" Asked her mother with innocent friendliness. "You clean the tub for him, you wash his clothes, you drag him out of the spaceship if necessary so that he can come to his meals ... almost like a wife."
<br />
“Phhh!” Bulma put the empty rice bowl on the table with an audible “sound”. "I'm more of his nanny."
<br />
Her mother didn't reply, instead she handed her husband a fresh bowl of rice."Eat it out well, then it won't burn any more."
<br />
Bulma's father did as he was told and also looked outside. After he had eaten his portion, all he noticed was that it was life weary to go outside unprotected in such weather.
<br />
Bulma had lost her appetite. She thanked them for the food and