Hey! My first Trunks fanfic! I'm not sure how good or bad it is, so let me know. This is about Mirai Trunks, he is by far my favorite character of DBZ. This story is about him after he returns to the future. I hate how after he kills Cell we never see him again! How unfair! Well I guess two Trunks would be too many. Or rather too confusing. Regardless, this is my take on him and his feelings after meeting all the other Z fighters.
~~~~~
A Reason to Live
~~~~~
He sat alone, a solitary creature, shunning all human contact. The brilliant light shed by the sun quickly fading as the sun dropped behind the mountains. With his head hung low, the man sat, content for the moment to watch the fading reds and oranges of the sunset play across the sky.
A voice, carried over the wind, reached his ear. With a sigh, his head dropped lower. What more did she want from him? He had done as she wished. He had used her plan.
He had gone to the past to warn the others, trained and fought beside them, become insanely more powerful, and then had returned to defeat the androids and Cell. Everything thing had been done just like she wanted. But she was not happy. Not satisfied. What more did she want from him?
In changing the past he had changed himself. It had been a mistake to become acquainted with the warriors of the past. Meeting his father, seeing Gohan again, it was all so amazing to him. He had never wanted to leave that timeline, the place where the world was still alive. Yet he had returned, refusing to leave his world to be sacrificed to the androids. What a fool he was. To think he could be satisfied with this lonely life after having met so many friends in the other timeline.
It just wasn't fair! Why did he always end up alone? He had thought that when the androids were defeated then the pain in life would magically be eradicated. Foolish hopes and dreams. The pain would never leave his life and the loneliness had only gotten worse. Anything is better than this, this knowledge of how it could have been, how it should have been for his world!
He could never be content here. No, he felt so alone, so out of place. Nothing interested him here. If only...if only this miserable existence would end. His life served no purpose anymore so what was the point of continuing on?
The voice, once distant, now close, reached his sensitive ears again. Question answered. No matter how irritated he felt with her a times, he knew that he could never leave his mother alone here. She didn't need him, but she wanted him, which was enough to keep him anchored in this world for the time being.
~~~~~
Bulma hesitantly approached her only son. He was never the same after returning from the other timeline. There was a sad aura around him constantly. Not even the defeat of the androids and Cell brought him happiness. She knew what he wanted, she knew that he would never feel a part of this world again, not after being a part of their world.
He was a man split in two and it was killing him.
Never speaking a word, Bulma lowered herself to the ground beside Trunks. Lightly rubbing her hands over her arms, she struggled to think of something to say to the young man sitting beside her.
"Go home, mother, it's cold out here. You'll get sick," Trunks sat still watching in the direction of the sunset that had long been over.
"I suppose you're right, Trunks dear." Bulma stood to leave, not wishing to try and push him into talking to her at a moment when he obviously wanted nothing more than to be left alone. "You do realize that you can't push me away forever, Trunks, right? I'm not leaving you alone to wither away. You mean too much to me."
With that having been said, Bulma retreated into the darkness towards Capsule Corp. Her eyes glassy at the sight of her only son so deep in depression. She never should have let him go to the past. It was too much for his poor soul to handle. She should have gone, not her son. Why had she let him? Why had she willingly allowed him to do something that she deep down knew would bring him so much pain?
Because she was weak. Because she had not wanted to feel that pain. Because she vainly hoped that he would not become attached, vainly hoped that he would transcend the pain.
What a fool she was.
~~~~~
Seconds to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years.
And still Trunks prayed for death to come, for fate to be merciful.
~~~~~
She lay on her bed, weak and unable to move. Trunks had been home a lot more recently. He knew the same as her, her life would end soon. He sat beside her bed in a chair, pulled close, holding her hand gently in his.
A solitary tear escaped her eyes, a tear for the person she was leaving behind. Please, Kami, let him find a reason to live on when I'm gone. She knew he had stayed alive for her benefit and she feared that with her death, Trunks would feel free to do with his life as he see fit...end it.
Her breathe came in short gasps as she prayed fervently for a miracle for her son. Don't let his life end this way, in pain, he deserves so much more. He deserves everything he left behind in the other timeline. If only he could return there...if only we hadn't destroyed the time machine...if only I had built him another...if only I had more time with him...if only I could tell him how much I love him one more time.
So many 'if onlys'...so many...
Blue eyes met blue eyes, unspoken words were exchanged, and one soul departed from its bodily confines.
~~~~~
The lighted glistened on the human-crafted metal. The knife held lightly on his skilled hand. Twisting and turning, playing with the deadly object as if it were a child's toy.
With his eyes tightly sealed, Trunks rested the cool metal against his wrist. How wonderful this felt, the knowledge that the end was soon. No more pain, no more being alone, no more.
Decisively he brought the knife down and sliced his wrist, the pain nothing compared to what he felt in his soul.
As he raised his hand to take the knife and treat his other wrist to the same, a hand grasped at his wrist with a towel, holding in the blood that was meant to spill, meant to spill and release him.
"Certainly was a foolish move, if I must say," the stranger commented lightly.
"Who are you?" Trunks questioned, not feeling any effects of the cut on his wrist.
"Pan. Son Pan."
His eyes widened. This must be a cruel joke. Was he in hell?
She smirked slightly. "You are very much alive, did you really think a little cut on the wrist would kill a saiyan? You must not have wanted to die very badly."
"How would you know?"
"Call it a hunch," she said smiling.
"Are you really Gohan's daughter? I never knew he had any children so how do I know you're telling the truth?" he felt as if he should ask these questions, yet deep down he already knew the answers.
"Very much so. My mother never told Gohan about me. I, too, never knew my father. I think, Trunks, that we have much in common."
"You may just be right," he whispered back to her.
Obsidian black met sapphire blue. Smiles lightly flitted across their lips. And an impenetrable bond began to form.
Perhaps my life is meant for something other than pain. Perhaps my struggle was not in vain. Perhaps even I can find happiness.
And with her at his side, the shadows of loneliness were expelled from his soul.
~~~~~
A Reason to Live
~~~~~
He sat alone, a solitary creature, shunning all human contact. The brilliant light shed by the sun quickly fading as the sun dropped behind the mountains. With his head hung low, the man sat, content for the moment to watch the fading reds and oranges of the sunset play across the sky.
A voice, carried over the wind, reached his ear. With a sigh, his head dropped lower. What more did she want from him? He had done as she wished. He had used her plan.
He had gone to the past to warn the others, trained and fought beside them, become insanely more powerful, and then had returned to defeat the androids and Cell. Everything thing had been done just like she wanted. But she was not happy. Not satisfied. What more did she want from him?
In changing the past he had changed himself. It had been a mistake to become acquainted with the warriors of the past. Meeting his father, seeing Gohan again, it was all so amazing to him. He had never wanted to leave that timeline, the place where the world was still alive. Yet he had returned, refusing to leave his world to be sacrificed to the androids. What a fool he was. To think he could be satisfied with this lonely life after having met so many friends in the other timeline.
It just wasn't fair! Why did he always end up alone? He had thought that when the androids were defeated then the pain in life would magically be eradicated. Foolish hopes and dreams. The pain would never leave his life and the loneliness had only gotten worse. Anything is better than this, this knowledge of how it could have been, how it should have been for his world!
He could never be content here. No, he felt so alone, so out of place. Nothing interested him here. If only...if only this miserable existence would end. His life served no purpose anymore so what was the point of continuing on?
The voice, once distant, now close, reached his sensitive ears again. Question answered. No matter how irritated he felt with her a times, he knew that he could never leave his mother alone here. She didn't need him, but she wanted him, which was enough to keep him anchored in this world for the time being.
~~~~~
Bulma hesitantly approached her only son. He was never the same after returning from the other timeline. There was a sad aura around him constantly. Not even the defeat of the androids and Cell brought him happiness. She knew what he wanted, she knew that he would never feel a part of this world again, not after being a part of their world.
He was a man split in two and it was killing him.
Never speaking a word, Bulma lowered herself to the ground beside Trunks. Lightly rubbing her hands over her arms, she struggled to think of something to say to the young man sitting beside her.
"Go home, mother, it's cold out here. You'll get sick," Trunks sat still watching in the direction of the sunset that had long been over.
"I suppose you're right, Trunks dear." Bulma stood to leave, not wishing to try and push him into talking to her at a moment when he obviously wanted nothing more than to be left alone. "You do realize that you can't push me away forever, Trunks, right? I'm not leaving you alone to wither away. You mean too much to me."
With that having been said, Bulma retreated into the darkness towards Capsule Corp. Her eyes glassy at the sight of her only son so deep in depression. She never should have let him go to the past. It was too much for his poor soul to handle. She should have gone, not her son. Why had she let him? Why had she willingly allowed him to do something that she deep down knew would bring him so much pain?
Because she was weak. Because she had not wanted to feel that pain. Because she vainly hoped that he would not become attached, vainly hoped that he would transcend the pain.
What a fool she was.
~~~~~
Seconds to minutes, minutes to hours, hours to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, and months to years.
And still Trunks prayed for death to come, for fate to be merciful.
~~~~~
She lay on her bed, weak and unable to move. Trunks had been home a lot more recently. He knew the same as her, her life would end soon. He sat beside her bed in a chair, pulled close, holding her hand gently in his.
A solitary tear escaped her eyes, a tear for the person she was leaving behind. Please, Kami, let him find a reason to live on when I'm gone. She knew he had stayed alive for her benefit and she feared that with her death, Trunks would feel free to do with his life as he see fit...end it.
Her breathe came in short gasps as she prayed fervently for a miracle for her son. Don't let his life end this way, in pain, he deserves so much more. He deserves everything he left behind in the other timeline. If only he could return there...if only we hadn't destroyed the time machine...if only I had built him another...if only I had more time with him...if only I could tell him how much I love him one more time.
So many 'if onlys'...so many...
Blue eyes met blue eyes, unspoken words were exchanged, and one soul departed from its bodily confines.
~~~~~
The lighted glistened on the human-crafted metal. The knife held lightly on his skilled hand. Twisting and turning, playing with the deadly object as if it were a child's toy.
With his eyes tightly sealed, Trunks rested the cool metal against his wrist. How wonderful this felt, the knowledge that the end was soon. No more pain, no more being alone, no more.
Decisively he brought the knife down and sliced his wrist, the pain nothing compared to what he felt in his soul.
As he raised his hand to take the knife and treat his other wrist to the same, a hand grasped at his wrist with a towel, holding in the blood that was meant to spill, meant to spill and release him.
"Certainly was a foolish move, if I must say," the stranger commented lightly.
"Who are you?" Trunks questioned, not feeling any effects of the cut on his wrist.
"Pan. Son Pan."
His eyes widened. This must be a cruel joke. Was he in hell?
She smirked slightly. "You are very much alive, did you really think a little cut on the wrist would kill a saiyan? You must not have wanted to die very badly."
"How would you know?"
"Call it a hunch," she said smiling.
"Are you really Gohan's daughter? I never knew he had any children so how do I know you're telling the truth?" he felt as if he should ask these questions, yet deep down he already knew the answers.
"Very much so. My mother never told Gohan about me. I, too, never knew my father. I think, Trunks, that we have much in common."
"You may just be right," he whispered back to her.
Obsidian black met sapphire blue. Smiles lightly flitted across their lips. And an impenetrable bond began to form.
Perhaps my life is meant for something other than pain. Perhaps my struggle was not in vain. Perhaps even I can find happiness.
And with her at his side, the shadows of loneliness were expelled from his soul.