Vegeta hadn't been with her. Since Vegeta had died against Buu, this had become a dark thought that swirled in a vortex of desperate emotion and heart-pounding frustration. There had been argument after argument with her stubborn husband about the significance this held for her and their family, but after weeks of tolerating her, Vegeta had pulled away, resuming his day and night training, ignoring any attempts she made to engage him. She was done with the sleepless nights and the anxious days. He'd been in Hell and the thought made her sick.

Why the state of his eternal afterlife had never before occurred to her, she didn't know. Perhaps it was an unconscious denial of how cruel life truly was. Death wasn't something she usually dwelled on, nor truly worried about, thanks to the Dragon Balls, though she knew one day their luck would run out. Death comes whether you give it thought or not.

This had led her to Kami's - Dende's now, she supposed – Lookout. She parked her hover plane, half on top of Mr. Popo's poor flower garden and dangerously close to the edge of the Lookout. It took only moments for Dende to emerge from the darkness underneath the high arching doorways of the temple. He smiled pleasantly and seemed not at all surprised to find her waiting.

"Good morning Ms. Briefs," he said, with a small nod of his head. "What do I own the pleasure of your company?"

Bulma had thought about the best way to bring this subject up to the demi-god many times, obsessively even. She'd thought to be sensible and calm, and ask him his opinion. Instead, she blurted "He doesn't deserve Hell! It's not fair!" and dissolved into tears.

Dende startled at her outburst and his smile dropped. Mr. Popo, who had been tending the garden near her plane, appeared with a tray of lemonade, and together the settled Bulma onto one of the marble garden benches.

When she'd calmed down and chugged the most unbelievably bland lemonade she's ever had, Dende began to awkwardly twiddle his thumbs on the bench next to her. It made her nervous. If he didn't agree with her, then who would? Dende was the kindest person she had ever met.

"Dende," she croaked and then cleared her throat. "He was resurrected with the rest of us. Does that mean he's not going to Hell anymore? He's already been twice. Is that not enough?"

"I don't know, Ms. Briefs. That's not my decision to make. That's something that only King Yamma can tell you."

"Then let me speak to him,"

"That isn't something I can do either," he said slowly as he shook his head. "But you should go to Goku. He's used Instant Transmission to get to the afterlife before, I'm sure he can do it again."

An hour later, Bulma landed on the hill outside of the Son's mountain home. Goku was rolling in the grass nearby, wrestling with Goten when her hover plane had appeared. Now Goten was happily perched on his father's shoulders as they watched her exit the plane.

"Goku," she yelled, waving and running to him. "Take me to see King Yamma!"

"Sure!" He answered without pause as he set Goten onto the bright green grass. "What for, Bulma?"

"I need to speak to him about Vegeta's soul."

"Why, is there something wrong with it?"

"Yes! It's damned! Now let's move! I don't have all day, you know!"


I did this edit to get myself back into the flow of the story. I hope it's a bit better than the original. I intend to go back and edit the first few chapters because they were posted without a beta and could use some work. I'm the sort of person who will go back and redo something 8000 times, but I'll try to keep it to one edit/rewrite a year. As of this edit 12/4/13, I am working on the next chapter. I had to change my plans for the fifth chapter, because after all this time it would be unfair to give the readers Dende and Popo instead of the characters you're really reading this for :) Still, I'm aiming to post on Christmas.