This is the third (and, I think, final) of my emo-Goten fics.

I don't own DBZ or anything associated with it.

Um, yeah. So... if anyone wants to bone-pick anything with me, go right ahead. I probably got Gohan's age wrong, but that wouldn't make for a very good story, now, would it?

And I'm proud to say that this is officially my shortest one-shot ever! Yay!

So... I'm gonna go annoy my friends on Facebook. Enjoy "I Don't Add Up"! Review, please? It would make today - the best day ever - even better!

I can remember the first time I met Dad. I was seven years old.

I'd never met him before because he'd been dead. He was a stranger; I refused to go anywhere near him. I clung to my mom's skirt and kept my face buried in the fabric.

Gohan was the only man in my life. He was my father figure. I wouldn't let this stranger – no matter how friendly he was – take my brother's place. In my mind, he would never be a part of the family, even though as soon as Gohan saw him, he ran to him and threw his arms around him.

That was the only time I can remember seeing Gohan cry.

After being around a while, I accepted him into my life. Gohan's still my father figure; I call him Dad, but he's more like an uncle to me. But I'm glad I finally did. He's the coolest.

The other day, I asked Gohan when Dad died. And I realized something.

I don't add up.

I know for a fact that I was seven when I met Dad. Gohan knows for a fact that he was eight when Dad died. Gohan's ten years older than me, so he was seventeen that day.

That means that Dad had been dead for nine years. And that means that I was born two years after Dad died.

I don't add up.

Mom never cared about what Gohan's hair looked like. He always had to be perfect, except for his hair. He could do whatever he wanted with his hair.

But me – the only thing she ever cared about was my hair. Every day, she perfectly styled my hair after Dad's – until it permanently stuck that way.

Why?

You'd think that seeing the unique hairstyle of her dead husband would make her sad. But she insisted on styling my hair like that.

Maybe so I'd look more like the man she claimed was my father?

Obviously, I am part Saiyan – the tail says it all. So that means, logically, my father can be only one other man.

Vegeta.

As strange as it may sound, Vegeta and I have always had a sort of kinship. It's obvious that he prefers me over Gohan. He almost always calls me by name. He only calls Trunks by name half the time, and he's called Gohan by name maybe four times in his life.

And though it would be a huge, scandalous revelation, if it was true, I'd be okay with it. Of course, it would still be weird to adjust – my brother and my best friend would be my half-brothers. My mother's husband wouldn't be my father – my best friend's father would. I would be the bastard child of Saiyan royalty.

But it would give me a sense of identity. I could finally find myself and learn who I am.

Because any other way, I just don't add up.

- Kuramastrass -