The Gift
By QG
Editors: Keyanna and Ryze
"Wherever you find love it feels like Christmas."
~Ghost of Christmas Present, "A Muppet Christmas Carol"~
Christmas. A holiday where behind all of the gifts and glitter is found the true joy of birth and life, the pure happiness and love for the others around you. As the month of December comes, I try to ponder the meaning of Christmas for us now. How can we express the joy of birth when all we see is death? How can we show love for those around us when there is no one left to love? What can we do to celebrate Christmas when people are afraid to leave their homes? My world is a barren, cold shadow of what it once was, and this is all I have known it to be. My mother tells me stories of what life was; how she and her friends would spend Christmas and other holidays together. Most of them have been killed by the jinzouningen, including my father. It's been eight months since the last of our friends, Gohan, has died. Even today, I can still feel a horrid emptiness inside when I think of my former mentor. This will be our first Christmas alone. I almost don't want it to come, as it will be a reminder of what we have lost: our friends' lives. I cry myself to sleep every night, wondering when our lives will get better, if ever. I hope that, someday, I will find something of Christmas in this barren world of death. I wonder if I will ever experience this holiday without pain and torment, to spend time with the people I care about and not have to worry about whether or not we will live to see the dawning of the next day.
***
I awoke to a heavenly scent coming from the kitchen. As my eyes slowly opened, I noticed heavy, white flakes of snow drifting lazily past my window. I sat up and stretched. I got out of bed and shivered as my bare feet touched the icy floor. I walked into the kitchen, where my mother was baking and bustling about.
"Good morning, Trunks," she said as I sat down at the table.
"G'morning Mother," I replied sleepily. She gave me my breakfast: hot oatmeal and cider, which I ate slowly, thankfully savoring the warm food. She shifted her gaze out the window and watched the falling snow for a minute.
"Looks like we're going to be having a white Christmas," she remarked. I frowned slightly.
"Hmm? Christmas?" I asked. She looked up at me and smiled.
"Of course, you goose. It's tomorrow, in case you forgot," she said, teasingly. My frown deepened a little, as I recalled what day it was. December 24. Christmas Eve. I had completely forgotten. Days were just days to me now, they meant nothing more than one more day of staying alive, one more day of pain and inner torment. The jinzouningen wouldn't care if it was Christmas or not, they would still kill innocent people. My mother waved a hand in front of my thoughtful face.
"Trunks? Are you okay?" she asked. I snapped out of my trance.
"Huh? Were you saying something?" I asked.
"I was asking what you'd like for Christmas. Are you sure you're okay?" she looked worried.
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Now, what do I want?" I asked. She nodded, a little exasperated. My thoughts immediately sprang to Gohan, but I knew it was impossible to have him back, so I repressed the thought and the tears that came with it.
"Well, nothing really," I said. I really didn't see the need for material possessions now. My mother sighed.
"You're too hard to please," she said. "I'll think of something."
"What do you want, Mother?" I asked her. She thought for a moment.
"A tree," she said finally. I was perplexed.
"A tree?" I asked, utterly confused. She gave me an understanding look.
"I know it sounds silly, but I wish we could have a large pine tree, you know, for Christmas. We don't have any around here, so every year everyone would go out to Goku's house in the mountains and chop down one of those huge pine trees that grow there. Then we would decorate it and put it up in Kame House. We would stay up late all night by the fireplace, telling stories, giving gifts, partying, that kind of thing. Even your father enjoyed it, surprisingly enough. Then, in the morning, Master Roshi would come in dressed as St. Nick. Oh, those times were so long ago, though. I guess it doesn't really matter now. It's too dangerous to go out anyway," she said, sighing and staring out the window again with a look of longing on her face. I took her story in quietly and thoughtfully, a small smile on my lips. I was already planning how to get my mother her gift.
***
Later in the afternoon, while my mother hung small wreathes and other piney foliage around the house, I crept silently to the side door. I quietly donned a dark green coat over my blue and white shirt. It was big on me, reaching to the knees of my gray sweatpants. When I had found it in the attic, I had wondered whose it was. It had obviously seen better days. It was ratted and torn, and it had a harsh, earthy scent to it. It seemed to have been worn by someone who lived outside more than in. I wondered why it had been stored in the attic. My mother usually gives me items like these, but this coat must have been special somehow. It was then that I remembered where I had found it: in a corner next to an old, faded blue body suit with cracked white armor and a pair of gloves... I realized that the coat must have belonged to my father. A lump came to my throat as I ran my hand along the cloth, trying to connect with him somehow. I felt as though touching the coat would trigger some long-buried memory of him. A small crash from where my mother was working broke me out of my reverie. I quickly shoved my boots onto my feet and I bade a silent farewell to my mother as I walked outside.
***
As soon as I stepped out of the house, a wave of cold air swept over my body. The light snowfall of the morning had turned into a violent blizzard. Huge flurries of wind and snow spun about, making it impossible to see more than a foot in front of me. I began trudging through the deep snow, looking for firm ground to begin flying. I held my arm in front of my face in an effort to keep snow out of my eyes, not that it did much good. It was a complete whiteout. The wind whipped at my body, freezing me even through the thick coat. My pace slowed. I began to consider turning back, taking refuge in the warmth and safety of my house. I almost started to turn around, but I had a sudden mental image of my mother's sad and wistful face. I urged myself forward, digging my way though the snowdrifts until I reached a place where it wasn't so deep. I took to the sky, preparing to fly the rest of the way to Goku's house.
***
The flight was long and difficult. The howling wind tossed me about, shifting my course and causing me to turn somersaults in the air. Snow flurries obscured my vision and covered me with freezing snow. Below me, the entire landscape was blanketed in white, making it hard to tell houses apart. Still, the wrecked cities looked a little less desolate with their snowy covering. My uncovered hands were cold as ice, and I tried blowing on them as I flew on. It was getting colder; I needed to find Goku's soon. Ahead of me was a familiar stretch of mountains. I increased my speed and flew over them.
I was very relieved when the Son house came into view. No one had lived in it since Chi-Chi had passed away, just after Gohan's death. Another friend lost. I landed in front of the abandoned house and looked around. My mother was right; there were pine trees everywhere. A blast of bitterly cold wind helped to usher me inside. I walked through the door that hung off its hinges, into the empty house. Once inside, I brushed the snow from my body, causing a small puddle of water to form on the wood floor. I shook my purple hair, the now-melted snow flying from it in water droplets that froze in mid-air from the cold. Goku's house was just as my mother had described it. It was very simple in design, without many decorations. It now smelled of rotting wood and desolation, with a fine layer of dust lying over everything. The cold wind penetrated through the old walls. I shuddered. I walked around the old house, every item showing me another part of the past. I noted Goku's old gis, the once brilliant orange and blue colors now faded. I found the old purple pillow that had once been the altar to the 4-star dragonball. The kitchen was filled with cracked and broken cookware, long out of use. The table and chairs lay shattered on the floor, the wood beginning to rot. The once cheerful room was drafty and dim now; rather like most of the world I lived in. Leaving the kitchen, I walked upstairs and found Gohan's old room. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered my master and friend. The clothes he had worn as a small child were still there, faded and torn. In one corner was an enormous stack of textbooks, worn and beaten. I remembered him once saying that his mother wanted him to study more than fight. I picked one of the books up and hugged it to my chest as the tears ran down my face, freezing into little icicles upon contact with the frigid air. My choking sobs echoed throughout the silent house. After another minute of grieving for my dead friend, I replaced the book, dried my eyes, and walked back downstairs, trying to suppress my painful memories and focus on the task at hand.
I began looking for what I had come into the house for: an axe. I found one in a corner, caked with dust and cobwebs. The blade was somewhat rusted with age and the handle was just starting to decay. It looked like it would still work, and I was thankful for that. I picked it up; it was heavier than I expected. I shouldered the axe and stepped outside into the blizzard again.
As I slowly moved though the rapidly falling snow, I searched for the perfect tree. A piney scent filled the air around me. The tree couldn't be too tall or short, skinny or fat. I looked at many different shaped trees, but none seemed just right. Suddenly, the tree I wanted loomed out at me. It was about seven feet tall and not too wide around. It was a beautiful dark green, the same as my coat, contrasting beautifully with the white snow that covered it. I hefted the axe and brought the blade against the trunk of the tree with a loud crack. For some reason, the steady rhythm of the axe as it chopped down the pine was comforting to me. It felt like a channel, like all of my anger and sorrow was feeding into it, giving it power. Harder and harder I chopped, my emotions flowing into the axe until I began crying. Once the tree crashed to the ground, I dropped the axe, a little shaken at the rift in my release of emotions. I brushed away my crystallized tears and walked to the fallen tree. As I walked towards it, I heard a chillingly familiar voice behind me.
"Merry Christmas, kid!" someone yelled and threw something at me. The very hard, cold, and painful object hit me full on my cheek. I cried out, staggering away from the tree holding my cheek, which now sported a bleeding scratch. I looked wildly around to see who it was that attacked me. Then I saw them. Both jinzouningen standing there, decked out in red and white clothes, smirking. If I still held the axe, I would have dropped it again. The black-haired boy, 17, picked up an ice-ball and shaped his ki around it.
"How did you like our present to you?" he asked. I narrowed my eyes.
"Have another!" he said, throwing it. It grazed my shoulder, cutting me through the coat. My grip switched to my shoulder and I snarled at them. I hated them more than anything. They were the ones who had caused so much pain and suffering in my life. They were the ones who had destroyed the planet. They were the ones who had killed Gohan.
"What's wrong? Don't you like our gifts?" the blonde girl, 18, asked in mock surprise. I felt the familiar hurt, the recently acquired blind rage build inside of me. Anger was beginning to take control. I loathed them. I wanted to let them experience the pain I felt. I wanted them to feel the horrible hurt that was eating me inside. I could feel my blood boiling as I glared at the two with hatred in my eyes. They had taken away my only friend, the only father I had ever known.
"Gohan!" I yelled as I felt my power soar. My eyes turned brilliant green and my hair stood up in now golden spikes. I had turned Super Saiyan for the second time in my life. The two jinzouningen looked slightly alarmed, but they soon recovered.
"So, it looks like your friend taught you a few things before we killed him," 17 commented.
"Yeah. Just enough to kill you!" I yelled, lunging forward. I tried hitting 17 with several rapid punches, but he avoided them with ease. I swung my leg up to kick him in the head, but he grabbed my ankle and spun, swinging me into a tree. It snapped in half, and I shook my head to clear it from the pain. I slowly got to my feet. 17 blurred in and out, making it almost impossible for me to tell where he was. Suddenly, he came up behind me and grabbed me by the arms. 18 came up in front of me with a sadistic smirk on her face. She held more of the ki/ice-balls. I tried to break out of 17's grasp, but his hold was way too strong for me, even in my Super Saiyan state. I looked up at 18 with fearful eyes. She raised her eyebrows once, then began pelting me with the glowing ice-balls. I screamed in pain as they hit me, cutting into my body with their icy sharpness. 17 chuckled behind me as my body got weaker and weaker in his hold with each injury. When 18 ran out, 17 let go of my arms. I fell to my knees, weakly tried to stand up, dropped out of Super Saiyan, and collapsed, exhausted. 18 put a foot on my back, as I was face down in the snow.
"17, this kid's pathetic. What do you say we just leave him here to freeze?" she asked her twin. 17 shrugged.
"Sure, why not?" He bent down and leaned close to my pain-constricted face. "I hope you have a merry Christmas," he said with a chuckle. The jinzouningen took to the sky, leaving me fading out of consciousness in the snow.
***
Cold. Only cold surrounded my body. I tried to stand up, but my injured and freezing body couldn't support me. I lay in the snow as the storm continued, blanketing my body with an icy sheet. It felt as though I was slowly freezing into a cold, lifeless statue. As the frosty snow stung my open cuts, I let out a cry of pain that was no more than a whimper. The combination of the mind-numbing cold and searing pain from my wounds was too much for my body to handle. I gave in, letting the cold claim me, my eyes slowly sliding closed, frozen darkness enveloping me.
***
I slowly awoke to the feeling of warmth against my body. I painfully forced my eyelids to open. The form of a woman slowly blurred into focus above me. She was holding me in her arms, and had a worried look on her face. She then saw that I was awake and her expression changed to one of relief. I opened my eyes fully and tried to speak.
"W-w-what h-h-" I chattered, trying to get the words out. She put a finger to my chapped and bleeding lips.
"Shh. It's okay; just lie still. You were near frozen and half-buried in snow when I found you. I did my best to get your blood flowing again. I guess I was successful," she said softly. She had wrapped a blanket around my body and was holding me close to share her body heat.
"T-thank you. I owe you my life," I told her. She smiled down at me.
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't be able to stand one more death in these woods, especially not near his house," she said, glancing a ways back towards Goku's house. I was a bit surprised.
"Y-you knew Goku?" I asked as she helped me into a sitting position. She laughed a little.
"Of course. I've lived near here all my life. He was my only neighbor. Such a dear boy, and such a kind, loving family. I miss their little boy so much. He was always so polite. Such a helpful and sweet young child. He seemed so self-sacrificing, always willing to put others before himself," she reminisced. I fought back tears, remembering Gohan and how he had knocked me out to save my life, sacrificing his own in the process.
"Yeah. I miss him too," I said. She gave me an inquiring look, but didn't push me for details.
"What's your name?" she asked instead.
"I'm Trunks. Might I ask the name of the angel who rescued me?" I asked. She laughed again.
"I'm Sally, and I'm no angel. I was just in the right place at the right time. I happened across you while I was looking for a tree," Sally said.
"You too?" I asked. She smiled.
"Every year, Goku would let me chop down one of the trees. We both loved seeing the excitement on my daughter's face when I'd bring it home. It's amazing how a simple thing like that could bring a person so much joy," Sally commented. She stood and slowly helped me to my feet. She made sure I could stand before shouldering her own axe.
"Well, I'd better be going. Be careful on your way home. Try not to freeze again. Merry Christmas Trunks!" she called as she began walking off into the forest.
"Merry Christmas Sally! Thank you again for saving me!" I yelled after her. I turned around to try and find my tree again. It was where I had left it, untouched, except that it was now an indistinct white lump in the snow. I bent down and started digging it out, ignoring the dull throbbing of pain in my body. Once I had cleared off most of the snow, I tried to find where I could get a good grip on the tree. I picked the tree up by the trunk, the bark scratching against my stiff and reddened hands. I slowly pushed off into the sky, a fairly difficult task with the cumbersome tree in tow. I bade a silent goodbye to the Son house as I flew off towards home.
***
It was snowing even harder than before. The howling wind threw me about, trying to yank the tree from my grasp. I was already covered in snow, as was the tree. The snow froze my already battered body, and occasional blasts of wind stung like a slap. I toyed with the idea of sitting the storm out. But I had to get back to my mother. I had to finish this for her, to make her happy. I wanted to bring some of that old joy she had spoken about back into her life. That thought urged me forward, giving me the energy for another burst of speed. I had to make it back to her. I had to give her the gift she wanted.
***
By the time I got home, it was early evening and the snow was falling harder than ever. I crept in through the back door. When I stepped inside, the warmth of the house was almost painful as it welcomed my frigid body. I shook the snow from me, hung my coat and removed my boots. I peeked into the living room: no sign of my mother. I found the old Christmas tree stand I had discovered in the attic. I silently set up the tree near the fireplace. On the table I set out the ornaments I had found: bright lights on strings, tinsel, small carved figurines, glass bubbles splashed with color and names written on them, and a beautiful golden star. I finished not a moment too soon, as I heard my mother calling my name.
"Trunks? Where are you dear?" she sounded frantic. She must be worried that I had gone out to fight the jinzouningen.
"I'm in the living room," I calmly replied. I heard her run from wherever she was to me, and as she entered, she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness! I was worried you had gone...out...to...Trunks? What is..." she asked as her gaze fell upon the tree. I beamed.
"I-is that what I think it is?" she asked.
"If you think it's a Christmas tree from Goku's house, then yes, Mother," I replied, smiling. She put a hand to her mouth as she walked to the tree.
"Trunks, I-I don't know what to say. I-it's beautiful! Are-are you telling me that you risked your life in that storm, in what is probably one of the stupidest things you've ever done, just to get this for me?" she asked, tears filling her eyes.
"I wanted to make you happy, Mother. You needed the best gift I could give," I replied. She walked to me, bent down, and hugged me.
"Trunks, the best gift you have ever given me was you. You are the joy in my life. I could never ask for anything better," she said. I felt tears of love in my eyes now too. After a minute, she pulled out of the hug, but her arm remained around my shoulders as we looked at the tree.
"It's a beautiful tree," she commented with a little laugh, drying her tears.
"Only the best for my Mother," I replied with a grin.
"Shall we start decorating it?" she asked, eyes sparkling with excitement. I smiled.
"Sure!" I said. We got right to work. After an hour, the only ornament left to hang was the star. My mother held it while I picked her up by her waist and rose into the air, lifting her to the ceiling. She carefully placed the star on top of the tree, crowning off the beautiful display. When we landed, I grimaced slightly as a gash on my side began bleeding again. My mother noticed.
"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked, concerned. I tried to pretend nothing was wrong as I covered the blood on my shirt with my hand.
"N-nothing. I'm fine, Mother," I reassured her.
"No, you are not. There's something you're not telling me. Did you fight the jinzouningen?" she asked me sternly. I shook my head. She frowned.
"You're lying. What are you hiding under your hand?" she asked, motioning to take my hand away. I backed up a little. I didn't want my mother to worry about me, especially not that night. I wanted to keep pretending there was nothing wrong, but the pain in my side was too much. I cried out and fell to my knees, blood running between my fingers.
"Trunks!" my mother cried as she bent down by me.
"I-I'll be ok, Mother. I-it's nothing to worry about," I said, clenching my teeth in pain.
"Trunks, you're hurt and bleeding! Of course it's something for me to worry about! Now you are coming with me to get medical attention, or so help me, I'll drag you there!" she yelled. I slowly nodded and she helped me stand. We quickly walked into the MED room to find a first aid kit for my injuries.
***
Later in the night, after explanations had been given and bandages administered, my mother and I sat in the living room. A roaring fire in the fireplace welcomed me with its warmth as softly lilting Christmas carols played on the stereo. My mother sat in her big armchair and I on the floor next to her. She had a thoughtful look on her face.
"Well, since I've had my present, I think that I should give you yours," she said. I looked up at her questioningly. She nodded, confirming her thought.
"I'll be back in a minute," she told me. While she was gone, I wondered what she could have gotten me. I had never told her what I wanted. She came back with two objects in her arms. One she set on the chair; the other she presented to me. It was a sword in a red and silver sheath. It had a band that could clip around my chest. I drew the long, sharp blade and admired it in the firelight. It was made with superb craftsmanship.
"It's for fighting the jinzouningen. Once you learn how to use it," she explained. I looked at my mother in surprise. She hated it when I fought. She smiled a bit sadly.
"As much as I want to deny it, you will have to fight, sooner or later. You're the last hope for Earth. And if I can't stop you from fighting, I can at least give you something to help you live a bit longer."
"Thank you, Mother!" I exclaimed, standing up and hugging her.
"Now for the next gift," she said, picking up the object on the chair and sitting back down. I set down the sword and she motioned me to get into her lap. I did, and she drew me close to her as she showed me my second gift. It was an old book, yellowed with age. Across the top were the words:
Treasured Memories
"It's a photo album," my mother explained. "I thought you might like to be able to see how things were back before the jinzouningen came." I nodded and she opened up the album.
It was as though my mother's stories had come to life. Everyone she had told me about was there, smiling and laughing as though nothing had changed. The first picture was of a tall man with wild black hair and a goofy grin - Goku. In the next, he was holding a young boy with the same hair and an innocent, youthful expression - Gohan as a little child. I turned the page and caught my breath in a tiny gasp. There was a picture of a short man with dark hair, leaning against a wall with his arms folded in front of him. His ebony eyes were touched with surprise, as though he hadn't noticed the camera. His features were drawn in a scowl, but it looked like it had been rapidly adopted. Despite the expression, he seemed almost relaxed. The resemblance to my own features was unmistakable. It was my father, Vegeta.
As we continued to page through the book, I saw the lives of my mother and her friends from when they were little kids to when many of them had children of their own. The last picture was of the whole group in Santa Claus outfits, all smiling broadly - with the exceptions of my father and Piccolo, both of whom glared to some degree in every picture. After we finished the book, I was filled with a sense of happiness and content. I knew I now had a link to the past, and I felt as though I somehow knew each of my mother's friends.
As I sat back and took in my surroundings, the warm fire, the soft pattern of colors on the tree, the beautiful, soothing music, my mother's comforting presence around me, I finally understood. I was loved. I loved my mother more than anything, just as she did me. I could now hold onto my knowledge of our friends of the past, and I knew they would always be with me, as their memories and spirits lived on in my heart. At that moment, I felt safe and secure, as though nothing existed outside of that room. My mother and our Christmas were all that mattered. I loved her so much. I laid my head against her shoulder as she stroked my hair, hugging me close. For that moment, I didn't have to worry anymore. I didn't have to worry about the jinzouningen. I was completely safe. My mother, who I loved with all my heart, was protecting me. I knew I had found what I was looking for. I had the person I loved more than anything here with me, and I knew that the spirits of our deceased loved ones were watching over us. As my eyes closed in a peaceful slumber, I knew that I had found my Christmas.
The End
By QG
Editors: Keyanna and Ryze
"Wherever you find love it feels like Christmas."
~Ghost of Christmas Present, "A Muppet Christmas Carol"~
Christmas. A holiday where behind all of the gifts and glitter is found the true joy of birth and life, the pure happiness and love for the others around you. As the month of December comes, I try to ponder the meaning of Christmas for us now. How can we express the joy of birth when all we see is death? How can we show love for those around us when there is no one left to love? What can we do to celebrate Christmas when people are afraid to leave their homes? My world is a barren, cold shadow of what it once was, and this is all I have known it to be. My mother tells me stories of what life was; how she and her friends would spend Christmas and other holidays together. Most of them have been killed by the jinzouningen, including my father. It's been eight months since the last of our friends, Gohan, has died. Even today, I can still feel a horrid emptiness inside when I think of my former mentor. This will be our first Christmas alone. I almost don't want it to come, as it will be a reminder of what we have lost: our friends' lives. I cry myself to sleep every night, wondering when our lives will get better, if ever. I hope that, someday, I will find something of Christmas in this barren world of death. I wonder if I will ever experience this holiday without pain and torment, to spend time with the people I care about and not have to worry about whether or not we will live to see the dawning of the next day.
***
I awoke to a heavenly scent coming from the kitchen. As my eyes slowly opened, I noticed heavy, white flakes of snow drifting lazily past my window. I sat up and stretched. I got out of bed and shivered as my bare feet touched the icy floor. I walked into the kitchen, where my mother was baking and bustling about.
"Good morning, Trunks," she said as I sat down at the table.
"G'morning Mother," I replied sleepily. She gave me my breakfast: hot oatmeal and cider, which I ate slowly, thankfully savoring the warm food. She shifted her gaze out the window and watched the falling snow for a minute.
"Looks like we're going to be having a white Christmas," she remarked. I frowned slightly.
"Hmm? Christmas?" I asked. She looked up at me and smiled.
"Of course, you goose. It's tomorrow, in case you forgot," she said, teasingly. My frown deepened a little, as I recalled what day it was. December 24. Christmas Eve. I had completely forgotten. Days were just days to me now, they meant nothing more than one more day of staying alive, one more day of pain and inner torment. The jinzouningen wouldn't care if it was Christmas or not, they would still kill innocent people. My mother waved a hand in front of my thoughtful face.
"Trunks? Are you okay?" she asked. I snapped out of my trance.
"Huh? Were you saying something?" I asked.
"I was asking what you'd like for Christmas. Are you sure you're okay?" she looked worried.
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Now, what do I want?" I asked. She nodded, a little exasperated. My thoughts immediately sprang to Gohan, but I knew it was impossible to have him back, so I repressed the thought and the tears that came with it.
"Well, nothing really," I said. I really didn't see the need for material possessions now. My mother sighed.
"You're too hard to please," she said. "I'll think of something."
"What do you want, Mother?" I asked her. She thought for a moment.
"A tree," she said finally. I was perplexed.
"A tree?" I asked, utterly confused. She gave me an understanding look.
"I know it sounds silly, but I wish we could have a large pine tree, you know, for Christmas. We don't have any around here, so every year everyone would go out to Goku's house in the mountains and chop down one of those huge pine trees that grow there. Then we would decorate it and put it up in Kame House. We would stay up late all night by the fireplace, telling stories, giving gifts, partying, that kind of thing. Even your father enjoyed it, surprisingly enough. Then, in the morning, Master Roshi would come in dressed as St. Nick. Oh, those times were so long ago, though. I guess it doesn't really matter now. It's too dangerous to go out anyway," she said, sighing and staring out the window again with a look of longing on her face. I took her story in quietly and thoughtfully, a small smile on my lips. I was already planning how to get my mother her gift.
***
Later in the afternoon, while my mother hung small wreathes and other piney foliage around the house, I crept silently to the side door. I quietly donned a dark green coat over my blue and white shirt. It was big on me, reaching to the knees of my gray sweatpants. When I had found it in the attic, I had wondered whose it was. It had obviously seen better days. It was ratted and torn, and it had a harsh, earthy scent to it. It seemed to have been worn by someone who lived outside more than in. I wondered why it had been stored in the attic. My mother usually gives me items like these, but this coat must have been special somehow. It was then that I remembered where I had found it: in a corner next to an old, faded blue body suit with cracked white armor and a pair of gloves... I realized that the coat must have belonged to my father. A lump came to my throat as I ran my hand along the cloth, trying to connect with him somehow. I felt as though touching the coat would trigger some long-buried memory of him. A small crash from where my mother was working broke me out of my reverie. I quickly shoved my boots onto my feet and I bade a silent farewell to my mother as I walked outside.
***
As soon as I stepped out of the house, a wave of cold air swept over my body. The light snowfall of the morning had turned into a violent blizzard. Huge flurries of wind and snow spun about, making it impossible to see more than a foot in front of me. I began trudging through the deep snow, looking for firm ground to begin flying. I held my arm in front of my face in an effort to keep snow out of my eyes, not that it did much good. It was a complete whiteout. The wind whipped at my body, freezing me even through the thick coat. My pace slowed. I began to consider turning back, taking refuge in the warmth and safety of my house. I almost started to turn around, but I had a sudden mental image of my mother's sad and wistful face. I urged myself forward, digging my way though the snowdrifts until I reached a place where it wasn't so deep. I took to the sky, preparing to fly the rest of the way to Goku's house.
***
The flight was long and difficult. The howling wind tossed me about, shifting my course and causing me to turn somersaults in the air. Snow flurries obscured my vision and covered me with freezing snow. Below me, the entire landscape was blanketed in white, making it hard to tell houses apart. Still, the wrecked cities looked a little less desolate with their snowy covering. My uncovered hands were cold as ice, and I tried blowing on them as I flew on. It was getting colder; I needed to find Goku's soon. Ahead of me was a familiar stretch of mountains. I increased my speed and flew over them.
I was very relieved when the Son house came into view. No one had lived in it since Chi-Chi had passed away, just after Gohan's death. Another friend lost. I landed in front of the abandoned house and looked around. My mother was right; there were pine trees everywhere. A blast of bitterly cold wind helped to usher me inside. I walked through the door that hung off its hinges, into the empty house. Once inside, I brushed the snow from my body, causing a small puddle of water to form on the wood floor. I shook my purple hair, the now-melted snow flying from it in water droplets that froze in mid-air from the cold. Goku's house was just as my mother had described it. It was very simple in design, without many decorations. It now smelled of rotting wood and desolation, with a fine layer of dust lying over everything. The cold wind penetrated through the old walls. I shuddered. I walked around the old house, every item showing me another part of the past. I noted Goku's old gis, the once brilliant orange and blue colors now faded. I found the old purple pillow that had once been the altar to the 4-star dragonball. The kitchen was filled with cracked and broken cookware, long out of use. The table and chairs lay shattered on the floor, the wood beginning to rot. The once cheerful room was drafty and dim now; rather like most of the world I lived in. Leaving the kitchen, I walked upstairs and found Gohan's old room. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered my master and friend. The clothes he had worn as a small child were still there, faded and torn. In one corner was an enormous stack of textbooks, worn and beaten. I remembered him once saying that his mother wanted him to study more than fight. I picked one of the books up and hugged it to my chest as the tears ran down my face, freezing into little icicles upon contact with the frigid air. My choking sobs echoed throughout the silent house. After another minute of grieving for my dead friend, I replaced the book, dried my eyes, and walked back downstairs, trying to suppress my painful memories and focus on the task at hand.
I began looking for what I had come into the house for: an axe. I found one in a corner, caked with dust and cobwebs. The blade was somewhat rusted with age and the handle was just starting to decay. It looked like it would still work, and I was thankful for that. I picked it up; it was heavier than I expected. I shouldered the axe and stepped outside into the blizzard again.
As I slowly moved though the rapidly falling snow, I searched for the perfect tree. A piney scent filled the air around me. The tree couldn't be too tall or short, skinny or fat. I looked at many different shaped trees, but none seemed just right. Suddenly, the tree I wanted loomed out at me. It was about seven feet tall and not too wide around. It was a beautiful dark green, the same as my coat, contrasting beautifully with the white snow that covered it. I hefted the axe and brought the blade against the trunk of the tree with a loud crack. For some reason, the steady rhythm of the axe as it chopped down the pine was comforting to me. It felt like a channel, like all of my anger and sorrow was feeding into it, giving it power. Harder and harder I chopped, my emotions flowing into the axe until I began crying. Once the tree crashed to the ground, I dropped the axe, a little shaken at the rift in my release of emotions. I brushed away my crystallized tears and walked to the fallen tree. As I walked towards it, I heard a chillingly familiar voice behind me.
"Merry Christmas, kid!" someone yelled and threw something at me. The very hard, cold, and painful object hit me full on my cheek. I cried out, staggering away from the tree holding my cheek, which now sported a bleeding scratch. I looked wildly around to see who it was that attacked me. Then I saw them. Both jinzouningen standing there, decked out in red and white clothes, smirking. If I still held the axe, I would have dropped it again. The black-haired boy, 17, picked up an ice-ball and shaped his ki around it.
"How did you like our present to you?" he asked. I narrowed my eyes.
"Have another!" he said, throwing it. It grazed my shoulder, cutting me through the coat. My grip switched to my shoulder and I snarled at them. I hated them more than anything. They were the ones who had caused so much pain and suffering in my life. They were the ones who had destroyed the planet. They were the ones who had killed Gohan.
"What's wrong? Don't you like our gifts?" the blonde girl, 18, asked in mock surprise. I felt the familiar hurt, the recently acquired blind rage build inside of me. Anger was beginning to take control. I loathed them. I wanted to let them experience the pain I felt. I wanted them to feel the horrible hurt that was eating me inside. I could feel my blood boiling as I glared at the two with hatred in my eyes. They had taken away my only friend, the only father I had ever known.
"Gohan!" I yelled as I felt my power soar. My eyes turned brilliant green and my hair stood up in now golden spikes. I had turned Super Saiyan for the second time in my life. The two jinzouningen looked slightly alarmed, but they soon recovered.
"So, it looks like your friend taught you a few things before we killed him," 17 commented.
"Yeah. Just enough to kill you!" I yelled, lunging forward. I tried hitting 17 with several rapid punches, but he avoided them with ease. I swung my leg up to kick him in the head, but he grabbed my ankle and spun, swinging me into a tree. It snapped in half, and I shook my head to clear it from the pain. I slowly got to my feet. 17 blurred in and out, making it almost impossible for me to tell where he was. Suddenly, he came up behind me and grabbed me by the arms. 18 came up in front of me with a sadistic smirk on her face. She held more of the ki/ice-balls. I tried to break out of 17's grasp, but his hold was way too strong for me, even in my Super Saiyan state. I looked up at 18 with fearful eyes. She raised her eyebrows once, then began pelting me with the glowing ice-balls. I screamed in pain as they hit me, cutting into my body with their icy sharpness. 17 chuckled behind me as my body got weaker and weaker in his hold with each injury. When 18 ran out, 17 let go of my arms. I fell to my knees, weakly tried to stand up, dropped out of Super Saiyan, and collapsed, exhausted. 18 put a foot on my back, as I was face down in the snow.
"17, this kid's pathetic. What do you say we just leave him here to freeze?" she asked her twin. 17 shrugged.
"Sure, why not?" He bent down and leaned close to my pain-constricted face. "I hope you have a merry Christmas," he said with a chuckle. The jinzouningen took to the sky, leaving me fading out of consciousness in the snow.
***
Cold. Only cold surrounded my body. I tried to stand up, but my injured and freezing body couldn't support me. I lay in the snow as the storm continued, blanketing my body with an icy sheet. It felt as though I was slowly freezing into a cold, lifeless statue. As the frosty snow stung my open cuts, I let out a cry of pain that was no more than a whimper. The combination of the mind-numbing cold and searing pain from my wounds was too much for my body to handle. I gave in, letting the cold claim me, my eyes slowly sliding closed, frozen darkness enveloping me.
***
I slowly awoke to the feeling of warmth against my body. I painfully forced my eyelids to open. The form of a woman slowly blurred into focus above me. She was holding me in her arms, and had a worried look on her face. She then saw that I was awake and her expression changed to one of relief. I opened my eyes fully and tried to speak.
"W-w-what h-h-" I chattered, trying to get the words out. She put a finger to my chapped and bleeding lips.
"Shh. It's okay; just lie still. You were near frozen and half-buried in snow when I found you. I did my best to get your blood flowing again. I guess I was successful," she said softly. She had wrapped a blanket around my body and was holding me close to share her body heat.
"T-thank you. I owe you my life," I told her. She smiled down at me.
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't be able to stand one more death in these woods, especially not near his house," she said, glancing a ways back towards Goku's house. I was a bit surprised.
"Y-you knew Goku?" I asked as she helped me into a sitting position. She laughed a little.
"Of course. I've lived near here all my life. He was my only neighbor. Such a dear boy, and such a kind, loving family. I miss their little boy so much. He was always so polite. Such a helpful and sweet young child. He seemed so self-sacrificing, always willing to put others before himself," she reminisced. I fought back tears, remembering Gohan and how he had knocked me out to save my life, sacrificing his own in the process.
"Yeah. I miss him too," I said. She gave me an inquiring look, but didn't push me for details.
"What's your name?" she asked instead.
"I'm Trunks. Might I ask the name of the angel who rescued me?" I asked. She laughed again.
"I'm Sally, and I'm no angel. I was just in the right place at the right time. I happened across you while I was looking for a tree," Sally said.
"You too?" I asked. She smiled.
"Every year, Goku would let me chop down one of the trees. We both loved seeing the excitement on my daughter's face when I'd bring it home. It's amazing how a simple thing like that could bring a person so much joy," Sally commented. She stood and slowly helped me to my feet. She made sure I could stand before shouldering her own axe.
"Well, I'd better be going. Be careful on your way home. Try not to freeze again. Merry Christmas Trunks!" she called as she began walking off into the forest.
"Merry Christmas Sally! Thank you again for saving me!" I yelled after her. I turned around to try and find my tree again. It was where I had left it, untouched, except that it was now an indistinct white lump in the snow. I bent down and started digging it out, ignoring the dull throbbing of pain in my body. Once I had cleared off most of the snow, I tried to find where I could get a good grip on the tree. I picked the tree up by the trunk, the bark scratching against my stiff and reddened hands. I slowly pushed off into the sky, a fairly difficult task with the cumbersome tree in tow. I bade a silent goodbye to the Son house as I flew off towards home.
***
It was snowing even harder than before. The howling wind threw me about, trying to yank the tree from my grasp. I was already covered in snow, as was the tree. The snow froze my already battered body, and occasional blasts of wind stung like a slap. I toyed with the idea of sitting the storm out. But I had to get back to my mother. I had to finish this for her, to make her happy. I wanted to bring some of that old joy she had spoken about back into her life. That thought urged me forward, giving me the energy for another burst of speed. I had to make it back to her. I had to give her the gift she wanted.
***
By the time I got home, it was early evening and the snow was falling harder than ever. I crept in through the back door. When I stepped inside, the warmth of the house was almost painful as it welcomed my frigid body. I shook the snow from me, hung my coat and removed my boots. I peeked into the living room: no sign of my mother. I found the old Christmas tree stand I had discovered in the attic. I silently set up the tree near the fireplace. On the table I set out the ornaments I had found: bright lights on strings, tinsel, small carved figurines, glass bubbles splashed with color and names written on them, and a beautiful golden star. I finished not a moment too soon, as I heard my mother calling my name.
"Trunks? Where are you dear?" she sounded frantic. She must be worried that I had gone out to fight the jinzouningen.
"I'm in the living room," I calmly replied. I heard her run from wherever she was to me, and as she entered, she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank goodness! I was worried you had gone...out...to...Trunks? What is..." she asked as her gaze fell upon the tree. I beamed.
"I-is that what I think it is?" she asked.
"If you think it's a Christmas tree from Goku's house, then yes, Mother," I replied, smiling. She put a hand to her mouth as she walked to the tree.
"Trunks, I-I don't know what to say. I-it's beautiful! Are-are you telling me that you risked your life in that storm, in what is probably one of the stupidest things you've ever done, just to get this for me?" she asked, tears filling her eyes.
"I wanted to make you happy, Mother. You needed the best gift I could give," I replied. She walked to me, bent down, and hugged me.
"Trunks, the best gift you have ever given me was you. You are the joy in my life. I could never ask for anything better," she said. I felt tears of love in my eyes now too. After a minute, she pulled out of the hug, but her arm remained around my shoulders as we looked at the tree.
"It's a beautiful tree," she commented with a little laugh, drying her tears.
"Only the best for my Mother," I replied with a grin.
"Shall we start decorating it?" she asked, eyes sparkling with excitement. I smiled.
"Sure!" I said. We got right to work. After an hour, the only ornament left to hang was the star. My mother held it while I picked her up by her waist and rose into the air, lifting her to the ceiling. She carefully placed the star on top of the tree, crowning off the beautiful display. When we landed, I grimaced slightly as a gash on my side began bleeding again. My mother noticed.
"What is it, sweetheart?" she asked, concerned. I tried to pretend nothing was wrong as I covered the blood on my shirt with my hand.
"N-nothing. I'm fine, Mother," I reassured her.
"No, you are not. There's something you're not telling me. Did you fight the jinzouningen?" she asked me sternly. I shook my head. She frowned.
"You're lying. What are you hiding under your hand?" she asked, motioning to take my hand away. I backed up a little. I didn't want my mother to worry about me, especially not that night. I wanted to keep pretending there was nothing wrong, but the pain in my side was too much. I cried out and fell to my knees, blood running between my fingers.
"Trunks!" my mother cried as she bent down by me.
"I-I'll be ok, Mother. I-it's nothing to worry about," I said, clenching my teeth in pain.
"Trunks, you're hurt and bleeding! Of course it's something for me to worry about! Now you are coming with me to get medical attention, or so help me, I'll drag you there!" she yelled. I slowly nodded and she helped me stand. We quickly walked into the MED room to find a first aid kit for my injuries.
***
Later in the night, after explanations had been given and bandages administered, my mother and I sat in the living room. A roaring fire in the fireplace welcomed me with its warmth as softly lilting Christmas carols played on the stereo. My mother sat in her big armchair and I on the floor next to her. She had a thoughtful look on her face.
"Well, since I've had my present, I think that I should give you yours," she said. I looked up at her questioningly. She nodded, confirming her thought.
"I'll be back in a minute," she told me. While she was gone, I wondered what she could have gotten me. I had never told her what I wanted. She came back with two objects in her arms. One she set on the chair; the other she presented to me. It was a sword in a red and silver sheath. It had a band that could clip around my chest. I drew the long, sharp blade and admired it in the firelight. It was made with superb craftsmanship.
"It's for fighting the jinzouningen. Once you learn how to use it," she explained. I looked at my mother in surprise. She hated it when I fought. She smiled a bit sadly.
"As much as I want to deny it, you will have to fight, sooner or later. You're the last hope for Earth. And if I can't stop you from fighting, I can at least give you something to help you live a bit longer."
"Thank you, Mother!" I exclaimed, standing up and hugging her.
"Now for the next gift," she said, picking up the object on the chair and sitting back down. I set down the sword and she motioned me to get into her lap. I did, and she drew me close to her as she showed me my second gift. It was an old book, yellowed with age. Across the top were the words:
Treasured Memories
"It's a photo album," my mother explained. "I thought you might like to be able to see how things were back before the jinzouningen came." I nodded and she opened up the album.
It was as though my mother's stories had come to life. Everyone she had told me about was there, smiling and laughing as though nothing had changed. The first picture was of a tall man with wild black hair and a goofy grin - Goku. In the next, he was holding a young boy with the same hair and an innocent, youthful expression - Gohan as a little child. I turned the page and caught my breath in a tiny gasp. There was a picture of a short man with dark hair, leaning against a wall with his arms folded in front of him. His ebony eyes were touched with surprise, as though he hadn't noticed the camera. His features were drawn in a scowl, but it looked like it had been rapidly adopted. Despite the expression, he seemed almost relaxed. The resemblance to my own features was unmistakable. It was my father, Vegeta.
As we continued to page through the book, I saw the lives of my mother and her friends from when they were little kids to when many of them had children of their own. The last picture was of the whole group in Santa Claus outfits, all smiling broadly - with the exceptions of my father and Piccolo, both of whom glared to some degree in every picture. After we finished the book, I was filled with a sense of happiness and content. I knew I now had a link to the past, and I felt as though I somehow knew each of my mother's friends.
As I sat back and took in my surroundings, the warm fire, the soft pattern of colors on the tree, the beautiful, soothing music, my mother's comforting presence around me, I finally understood. I was loved. I loved my mother more than anything, just as she did me. I could now hold onto my knowledge of our friends of the past, and I knew they would always be with me, as their memories and spirits lived on in my heart. At that moment, I felt safe and secure, as though nothing existed outside of that room. My mother and our Christmas were all that mattered. I loved her so much. I laid my head against her shoulder as she stroked my hair, hugging me close. For that moment, I didn't have to worry anymore. I didn't have to worry about the jinzouningen. I was completely safe. My mother, who I loved with all my heart, was protecting me. I knew I had found what I was looking for. I had the person I loved more than anything here with me, and I knew that the spirits of our deceased loved ones were watching over us. As my eyes closed in a peaceful slumber, I knew that I had found my Christmas.
The End