Vegeta was patient; he bore with it for a whole week. There were, however, plenty of them left before the training ended, and he knew his patience wasn't that strong.
After Trunks brushed his hair aside yet another time, he had enough already.
"Look at yourself! You look terrible!"
The boy, perplexed, refrained from the comment that their outfits were equally battered. What was Vegeta talking about?
A strong hand grabbed his hair and didn't let go until it was all over.
When Trunks fingered his ponytail, he felt a thong. Tied in a neat bow. Right, he had a perfectionist for a father.
"I won't have my son look like a tramp."
No-one could equal Saiyans in shocking people. Trunks felt like he was experiencing the happiest moment of his life.
