“Where on Chikyuu have you been?”
Bulma demanded the minute her daughter was in sight.
Bra sat down. “Getting engaged,”
she said weakly. Her voice trembled.
Bulma’s mouth dropped. “Goten
asked you?” she shrieked.
“Not exactly. He was
introducing me to a friend and said, ‘She’s my fiancée.’ Like
it was all settled. But he apologized.”
Bulma started laughing. “That
is so like a Son. I’m sorry, but it is.”
“Oh, I know.” Bra rested her
head in her hands. “We’re supposed to go shopping for a ring this afternoon.”
She jumped up and began pacing. “I can’t believe this. I can’t.
Me, mated? Er, married, I mean.” It was too slow.
Bulma’s eyes widened. “M—mated?”
she repeated.
“Not like that, Kaasan.
We haven’t done that…but Tousan says…”
“She’s a Saiyajin,” Vegeta
said, flying in. “What she feels towards Kakarott’s son will only happen
once in her life. And that’s it. They are lifemates, now and
forever.” He looked over at Bra. “Despite it being Goten, I’m glad you
picked someone who will match your life span.”
Bra smiled, went over, and
hugged her father. “Tousan, thank you so much. I love you.”
She felt her father tense up.
She somehow knew he just couldn’t hug her back, but she kept on. “I mean
it. I love you, and thank you.” She kissed him on the cheek as he
left and turned back to her mother. “Do you have a wedding dress I could
wear? I guess we can buy another one, but there’s really no need,
if yours or Baasan’s is around somewhere.”
Bulma nodded. “I think your
grandmother’s is up in the attic somewhere. Do you guys have a date
yet?”
“Uh, no. Kaasan, we just
got engaged today.”
“That’s right. Sorry.”
“No biggie. Um, could
you guys not tell Trunks? Goten wants to tell him himself.”
Bulma nodded. “Now, let’s
settle a date. Let’s see…this is April? What about a September
wedding?”
Bra’s eyes widened. “That
long?” she asked.
“That eager?” Bulma teased.
Bra flushed. “No…no, not that.
But I don’t want this to be a huge thing. I just want it to be a
small affair…if we have a seven month engagement, everyone will be there.”
Bulma nodded. “Okay.
Point taken. May, then?”
“That’d be better.”
“Where do you want to get
married at?”
“What about the temple Trunks
and Marron were married in?”
Bulma thought that over. “I
bet we could free it up with a big enough donation. Okay, what kind
of flowers?”
Bra shrugged. “You decide,”
she said.
“Bra-chan, this is your wedding.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “It’s just a
formality. I’m Goten’s, no matter what I do. I could go fly
to Namek, and I’d still feel incomplete, because he wouldn’t be there.
He’s got me, totally, heart and soul. Not only does he not care,
but he doesn’t even realize this wedding,” she spat the word out, “is just
solidifying it. So, no, I don’t really care if it’s decorated in
roses or tulips or lilacs.” She turned and looked her mother straight in
the eyes. “It just doesn’t matter.”
“Oh, Bra-chan, don’t say that.
It does matter. You may have…” Bulma groped for a word, “bonded with
him, but that doesn’t mean that—”
“Yes, it does, Kaasan. You can’t feel this. I’m not…me anymore. Half of me is Goten’s, and I can feel Goten inside me, now.” Bra shook her head. “I’m not explaining this very well. It’s more than loving him. I can…feel him. He’s in my heart.” Bra collapsed in a chair and looked at her mother with wide, scared eyes. “And it’s so scary, Kaasan. I’ve lost control. I’ve been thinking about this ever since I left the movies. I was all excited at first, but now…” Bra looked away. “I’m not the same. A part of me has been taken away, given to Goten, and I couldn’t even stop it. And I don’t even want to! He’s my mate…” Bra began crying. “He’s my mate,” she sobbed.
Bulma couldn’t think of anything
to say. “Oh, Bra-chan,” she whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Of course it will.
He’s my mate,” Bra whispered bitterly. She suddenly jerked up. “And
he’s coming.”
“What?”
Bra rubbed furiously at her
eyes. “He knows something’s wrong. He’s coming. Quick, Kaasan,
get me an onion.”
Bulma stared at her daughter.
“What?” she repeated.
“Oh, never mind!” Bra cried,
grabbing an onion and a knife. She ran over to the sink and began
hacking at it.
“Hey, Bulma-san, can I talk
to Bra?” she heard Goten ask.
“Go ahead. She’s a little…emotional
right now.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks.”
He stepped behind Bra. “What are you doing?”
“Cutting up an onion.”
“And you’re crying because…?”
“I’m cutting an onion.”
“It must be hard for you to
cook, then.”
“Har-dee-har-har.”
“I rather thought so.
Now, you want to tell me what’s really wrong?” He turned her around and
looked down at her.
She ducked her head. “No,
there’s nothing wrong,” she mumbled.
“See, you’re a pretty good
liar, but that just sucked.” He tilted her head up and forced her to look
him in the eyes. “Please, Bra, I can’t stand you hurting. And, believe
me, I felt it.”
That just reminded her of
how trapped she felt. “Goten…”
He could see a flicker of
something—was it fear?—in her eyes. But what could she be frightened
of? Not him, she couldn’t be afraid of him…could she? “Bra, what’s wrong?”
he whispered.
“I’m so scared,” she whispered.
His heart stopped. “Scared?
Of what?”
She buried her face in his
chest. She was so small, at least compared to him. “Everything,”
she mumbled.
“Wh—what do you mean?”
Was she scared of him?
She didn’t answer.
He racked his brain, searching
for something to say. Then, suddenly, as if it was branded right into his
brain, he saw the reason she was scared. “Bra-chan, no, I will never hurt
you.”
“But…”
“No. But nothing.
I love you, Bra. I can’t do anything to hurt you…it will hurt me
more.” He pulled her closer to him. “I promise you, Bra-chan.”
Bra let out her breath and
felt her fear vanish. She had felt so vulnerable…she was still vulnerable,
but at least he knew her great fear. And she knew he wouldn’t ever
hurt her purposely.
“Do you still want to go get
that ring?” Goten asked.
Bra sighed. “I guess.”
“What’s wrong now?”
“Well, to go shopping, you’ll
have to remove your arms from their present position. But I guess
it’s a worthwhile sacrifice.”
Goten grinned at her. “It
will be, I promise. Come on.”
***
“What do you think of this
one?” Goten asked, holding up a gold band with a tangle of small diamonds
balanced on it.
Bra gasped. “It’s beautiful!”
she gasped before she could stop herself. She recovered, too late.
“But—”
Goten looked at the salesman.
“Okay, this is the one we want,” he said. “What size is your finger again?”
he asked Bra.
She told the salesman, who
bustled off. “But it’s so expensive,” Bra whispered to Goten.
“So?”
“But—”
“No, no, no. If you
want this ring, you get it. And I know you want it, so…” He shrugged.
“That’s how it has to be.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but the only
ring we have in that size is the one in the display case, and I’m afraid
we can’t part with that one. It’ll be about three weeks before we
get another.”
Goten’s eyes got flinty. “Did
I mention that my fiancée is Miss Bra Briefs?” he asked.
The man paled. “O—oh.
Well, maybe we can make an exception, then. In fact, I’m almost positive
we can. L—let me go get the ring.”
“You do that,” Goten said.
“You throw my name around
awfully freely,” Bra complained.
“Hey, it gets us service.
If I said, ‘I’m Son Goten,’ everyone would look at me like I’m crazy.
But should I say, ‘Hey, this is Bra Briefs,’ and people start coming over
asking to help.”
“What are you going to do
when you have to introduce me as Son Bra?” she teased.
“Oh, well, I’ll just say,
‘The former Miss Briefs.’ ”
“So you’ve got this all worked
out, have you?”
He thought about it. “Well,
yeah.”
“Just so I know. Oh,
how did your family take our news?”
“Well…” He stopped.
“Goten,” she said warningly.
“Ididn’ttellthem,” he muttered.
“What?”
“I didn’t tell them,” he repeated,
slower.
“What?”
“Well, I couldn’t think how.
Subtle, blunt, what? So I figured we could just walk over and show
them the ring.”
She stared at him. “I can’t
believe you.”
“Do you have any better ideas?”
“Yes! Just tell them!”
“Okay, okay…but will you be
there?”
“Oh, like that wouldn’t be
awkward.”
“Please.”
“Don’t give the puppy-dog
look!” she groaned. “Ohh, all right.”
“Yes! Thank you Bra!
Thank you!”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m a regular
saint,” she grumbled.
The salesman came over with
the ring in a little box. “Okay, there you go. Um, have a nice wedding.
Th—thank you for choosing us for your jeweler.”
Bra smiled at him. “Well,
thank your for such wonderful service,” she said as they left.
“You didn’t mean that, did
you?” Goten asked. “About the service?”
“Well, no, but it made him
happy. Oh, and I want you to know, that you are telling your parents.
Not me. I’ll hide my hand if I have to.”
“That reminds me.” Goten took
the box out of his pocket and looked at the ring. “Do you want to wear
this?”
“Oh, let’s see, I’ve had a
crush on you since I was about, oh, five years old…hmm…do I want to wear
that ring…I’ve just got to think this over, Goten.”
“Ha, ha, and ha,” Goten said
and slid it on.
She looked at it. “Okay.
Let’s go inform your parents that they’re about to get another daughter.”