The Saiyan's lavender colored hair fiercely whipped at the sides of his face as he breezed through yet another group of cloud. Two years had passed since the barbaric rain of Dr. Gero's androids. Many cities had been recreated since their destruction and things already were well into reverting back to the way it was before there rising. People now walked the reconstructed streets once again without fear. Everything was as peaceful as he'd always wished his world to be; yet for some reason, he found himself filled with an uneasy feeling of anxiety. . . This new world of hope and peace was so. . . empty to him.
Landing on the top of the new and improved Capsule Corp he quietly strode into his home, which was situated on top of the tall building. His bangs now shagged in his eyes as he shrugged off his sleeveless blue jacket and tossed it carelessly onto one of the kitchen chairs.
His mother lightly yelped at the sudden noise. Whirling around she let out a sigh of relief to see her one and only son, as he picked up the sheathed sword that silently rested against one of the many cupboards. "Trunks, you startled me," his loving mother began. "I was just making some lunch, would you like some?"
"No, I ate while I was out. . ."
"And just where were you anyways? It's not like you to just get up and go off with out telling me."
"I was just out flying around."
"You missed the meeting today. As Capsule Corps' representative, and vice president, you really can't be skipping important business meetings because you want to go out and fly around." His mother scolded.
"I never wanted to be the vice president. . ." He began but found himself unable to continue.
"You can't just sit around all day alienating yourself from every one. You've got to socialize and take on responsibilities. . . You're not doing that by training in that gravity room."
"I know. . . did you make the repairs to it yet?" he inquired as he slung his sword over his right shoulder and tightly fastened it.
"Of course," Bulma sighed as she watched her son head off in the gravity room's direction. "What did I just say? You spend way to much time in there-"
"Please mom, I just want to be left alone right now. . ."
"Alright, but promise me, you won't skip the next executive meeting. And do try to be a little more social. I don't want you to end up like how your father was. That oafish little man and his short fuse. . ." she complained but their was a certain fondness to her voice.
"I promise," he said. Forcing a smile.
Trudging into the training room, Trunks pulled out a small blue band from his pants pocket and tied back his hair, however a few strands managed to fall out of the ponytail, falling to either side of his face. He cracked his knuckles as he headed over to the room's center. He checked over everything to make sure it was all fully functional and then with his callused fingers, quickly typed in the new gravity's number times earths. He added a few commands to the program he'd be soon running. Pressing the 'ENTER' key, he heard the generator turn on and not too shortly after, felt the weight of the room press down forcefully against his body.
He began first by jogging a few minutes around the room, which worked up quite a sweat considering how high the gravity was and how hard it was to move in his currently untransformed state. He did a few sprints after and then went onto his routine stretches.
Now he was ready to actually work out. "Release targets." He ordered and the computer system complied. Instantly, small sphere like devises flew out from various sections of the walls. One wiped towards him and he easily dodged another came and he quickly moved out of the way, having this one just narrowly missing him. Two hurled towards him from opposite sides. Levitating into the air he once again avoided being hit by the small devises; the two collided into each other and exploded on impact.
"Enhance target speed by twenty percent he ordered and their speed increased almost to the point where he couldn't see them. Trunks jumped back and forth in mid air trying to avoid them but eventually, they caught up with him. The first to hit him was in the chest; the small bomb inside detonated as it collided into him; his shirt tore and it felt like someone had dropped a ten ton weight on his chest. He hadn't even had enough time to recover when another hit and exploded at his lower back, sending him forward. The next one, on his right thigh. He cried out in pain and again tried to dodge but they were much to fast. Another hit his cheek and ricocheted to the left before exploding. His head had jerked to the side almost snapping his neck, and that's when he decided to get serious.
Another hurled towards his right, so he smacked it away with the back of his hand. It exploded a short distance away from him. The skins of his knuckles were throbbing and even bleeding where his skin had cracked. It felt like almost all of the bones in his hand had broken if not shattered but he pressed on. His mind was screaming at him to transform but he ignored it. He wanted to do this without the aid of his super saiyin power and he was suffering greatly because of it. Another hit him in the shin. Come on. . . I can do this. . . He was hit again and he was thrown to the floor. Blood filled his mouth and he spat it out violently as he was struck again.
No. . . no. . . I can't. . . If I keep going on like this. . . I might just die. . . He was right. Already he was short of breath and he fought with all his being to remain conscious. Damn it. . . I have no choice. . .Slowly he stood up, but fell over again as another hit him. He grunted in aggravation and then yelled at the top of his lounges as his aura lit up the room. His hair was no longer his usual lavender colour but rather, a blazing gold and his eyes shown a brilliant green with great ferocity, he'd transformed.
Now he saw the devices easily, it was almost as though they were moving in slow motion in comparison to him. He watched them zoom by him; trying to catch him but now that was impossible. A grin washed over his face, he drew his sword and let all hell break loose...
Author's note: I dug up this little ficlit a few days ago. I'd saved it on a disc about a year or so ago and completely forgot about it. I now I was intending to have a long intricate story set in the future Trunks timeline, but I can scarcely recall what my intentions were for it. It'll come back to me if I take a day to think about it but currently I'm working on an Utena fic and Inu Yasha (Shippo) fanfic. So if you're into either of those titles expect a fanfic of at least one of them by maybe mid August? If not sooner. I've also got several fics in progress. So if I do anything with this, it'll take a while.
So why am I posting this? Because I just read over and edited it a bit and I thought to myself, "Hey, it's not as bad as I thought it would be." And I think it serves as a nice little stand-alone oneshot, about Trunks' feelings after the destruction of his world's androids I attempted to subtly tap into the Saiyan psyche that I found Trunks seems to lack when compared to any Saiyan or saiyan hybrid. My theory was that he never had the chance for his saiyin instincts to really kick in because of the dire situation he was in. He never had a thirst for battle because his whole life up until a certain point was just one big ongoing battle with an enemy far superior to him. With said enemy out of the way I think his heritage now finally has a chance to grow as is implied at his immense desire to train-almost constantly. Whether this is a good or a bad thing has yet to be seen though. . .
At any rate, for the time being I'm going to mark this as a oneshot, though it might change if I get the time to do otherwise. That's it for now. Ja. R&R would be much appreciated
Landing on the top of the new and improved Capsule Corp he quietly strode into his home, which was situated on top of the tall building. His bangs now shagged in his eyes as he shrugged off his sleeveless blue jacket and tossed it carelessly onto one of the kitchen chairs.
His mother lightly yelped at the sudden noise. Whirling around she let out a sigh of relief to see her one and only son, as he picked up the sheathed sword that silently rested against one of the many cupboards. "Trunks, you startled me," his loving mother began. "I was just making some lunch, would you like some?"
"No, I ate while I was out. . ."
"And just where were you anyways? It's not like you to just get up and go off with out telling me."
"I was just out flying around."
"You missed the meeting today. As Capsule Corps' representative, and vice president, you really can't be skipping important business meetings because you want to go out and fly around." His mother scolded.
"I never wanted to be the vice president. . ." He began but found himself unable to continue.
"You can't just sit around all day alienating yourself from every one. You've got to socialize and take on responsibilities. . . You're not doing that by training in that gravity room."
"I know. . . did you make the repairs to it yet?" he inquired as he slung his sword over his right shoulder and tightly fastened it.
"Of course," Bulma sighed as she watched her son head off in the gravity room's direction. "What did I just say? You spend way to much time in there-"
"Please mom, I just want to be left alone right now. . ."
"Alright, but promise me, you won't skip the next executive meeting. And do try to be a little more social. I don't want you to end up like how your father was. That oafish little man and his short fuse. . ." she complained but their was a certain fondness to her voice.
"I promise," he said. Forcing a smile.
Trudging into the training room, Trunks pulled out a small blue band from his pants pocket and tied back his hair, however a few strands managed to fall out of the ponytail, falling to either side of his face. He cracked his knuckles as he headed over to the room's center. He checked over everything to make sure it was all fully functional and then with his callused fingers, quickly typed in the new gravity's number times earths. He added a few commands to the program he'd be soon running. Pressing the 'ENTER' key, he heard the generator turn on and not too shortly after, felt the weight of the room press down forcefully against his body.
He began first by jogging a few minutes around the room, which worked up quite a sweat considering how high the gravity was and how hard it was to move in his currently untransformed state. He did a few sprints after and then went onto his routine stretches.
Now he was ready to actually work out. "Release targets." He ordered and the computer system complied. Instantly, small sphere like devises flew out from various sections of the walls. One wiped towards him and he easily dodged another came and he quickly moved out of the way, having this one just narrowly missing him. Two hurled towards him from opposite sides. Levitating into the air he once again avoided being hit by the small devises; the two collided into each other and exploded on impact.
"Enhance target speed by twenty percent he ordered and their speed increased almost to the point where he couldn't see them. Trunks jumped back and forth in mid air trying to avoid them but eventually, they caught up with him. The first to hit him was in the chest; the small bomb inside detonated as it collided into him; his shirt tore and it felt like someone had dropped a ten ton weight on his chest. He hadn't even had enough time to recover when another hit and exploded at his lower back, sending him forward. The next one, on his right thigh. He cried out in pain and again tried to dodge but they were much to fast. Another hit his cheek and ricocheted to the left before exploding. His head had jerked to the side almost snapping his neck, and that's when he decided to get serious.
Another hurled towards his right, so he smacked it away with the back of his hand. It exploded a short distance away from him. The skins of his knuckles were throbbing and even bleeding where his skin had cracked. It felt like almost all of the bones in his hand had broken if not shattered but he pressed on. His mind was screaming at him to transform but he ignored it. He wanted to do this without the aid of his super saiyin power and he was suffering greatly because of it. Another hit him in the shin. Come on. . . I can do this. . . He was hit again and he was thrown to the floor. Blood filled his mouth and he spat it out violently as he was struck again.
No. . . no. . . I can't. . . If I keep going on like this. . . I might just die. . . He was right. Already he was short of breath and he fought with all his being to remain conscious. Damn it. . . I have no choice. . .Slowly he stood up, but fell over again as another hit him. He grunted in aggravation and then yelled at the top of his lounges as his aura lit up the room. His hair was no longer his usual lavender colour but rather, a blazing gold and his eyes shown a brilliant green with great ferocity, he'd transformed.
Now he saw the devices easily, it was almost as though they were moving in slow motion in comparison to him. He watched them zoom by him; trying to catch him but now that was impossible. A grin washed over his face, he drew his sword and let all hell break loose...
Author's note: I dug up this little ficlit a few days ago. I'd saved it on a disc about a year or so ago and completely forgot about it. I now I was intending to have a long intricate story set in the future Trunks timeline, but I can scarcely recall what my intentions were for it. It'll come back to me if I take a day to think about it but currently I'm working on an Utena fic and Inu Yasha (Shippo) fanfic. So if you're into either of those titles expect a fanfic of at least one of them by maybe mid August? If not sooner. I've also got several fics in progress. So if I do anything with this, it'll take a while.
So why am I posting this? Because I just read over and edited it a bit and I thought to myself, "Hey, it's not as bad as I thought it would be." And I think it serves as a nice little stand-alone oneshot, about Trunks' feelings after the destruction of his world's androids I attempted to subtly tap into the Saiyan psyche that I found Trunks seems to lack when compared to any Saiyan or saiyan hybrid. My theory was that he never had the chance for his saiyin instincts to really kick in because of the dire situation he was in. He never had a thirst for battle because his whole life up until a certain point was just one big ongoing battle with an enemy far superior to him. With said enemy out of the way I think his heritage now finally has a chance to grow as is implied at his immense desire to train-almost constantly. Whether this is a good or a bad thing has yet to be seen though. . .
At any rate, for the time being I'm going to mark this as a oneshot, though it might change if I get the time to do otherwise. That's it for now. Ja. R&R would be much appreciated