"You're such an idiot!"
"I didn't know that this was going to happen!"
"They're going to blame US for this, saying it was our fault because we gave the underage kid alcohol! Don't you know who his mom is? Bulma Briefs will buy this fucking school just to have us both expelled! And have you seen those pictures the media got of his dad at the last World Martial Arts Tournament? If we don't get expelled then that guy is going to kill us! Shit, Max, what were you thinking inviting Trunks Briefs to the party!" Dao hissed furiously, pacing back and forth in his friend's dorm room later that night. Max was sitting on his bed, his red face in his hands.
"The kid was fine when we left him," Max argued weakly, his voice muffled by his hands. "I had no idea…"
"This is fucked up, man," Dao sighed, shaking his head in dismay as he continued his relentless pacing. He removed his glasses and rubbed one eye. "His parents probably know what happened by now, and if they don't, they will soon. This is so fucked up."
They both fell into a miserable silence. Dao put his glasses on and looked out of his friend's window, watching the freshman dorm across the soccer field. The flashing ambulance and police lights were reflecting back on him, washing anxiety over him.
"We need to go visit him as soon as we know where they're taking him. Make sure that he'll be alright. Show that we care, and tell him how sorry we are that this happened to him. Hopefully his parents will be less inclined to nail our balls to the wall if we do that."
"No way, man," Max said, shaking his head adamantly. "I don't want anything more to do with Trunks Briefs. He's seeing visions of the Xhao chick, and then this weird shit happens to him? Tch! Fuck. That. I don't care what you say, that is NOT coincidence."
Dao groaned and looked up towards the ceiling as he closed his eyes. "Max, you can't be serious…"
"Dude, listen to these posts going up on Facebook!" Max insisted, pulling out his cell phone with shaking hands. He quickly pulled up the website. "Here's Lin. She lives in the same dorm as Trunks. Listen to her post- Just heard a kid downstairs screaming like he was being mauled by a pack of wolves while the floors shook like there was an earthquake! Now the power's down and we're on lock down… I KNEW I shoulda gone outta state when I heard the ghost stories…"
Dao rolled his eyes. "That girl doesn't know what two plus two is -"
"Here's Mike's post- Stopped by WCC Convenience at the frosh dorm when the floors shook, lights went out, and a kid screamed like he was being murdered. Now I'm stuck here on lock down and there are police and ambulances…fucking awesome."
"Mike was drunk off his ass when he left tonight. He clearly still is."
"Here's Frank's post-"
"Max, stop it!" Dao cried out in exasperation, running one hand up through his spiked hair. "Trunks was drunk! That's why we're screwed – because an underage freshman was at our party, probably picked a fight with the wrong people, and now might not live through the night! It has NOTHING to do with some made-up folk story about a girl who died twenty years ago! Get your head straight, because we have to go see this kid to make sure he's alright!"
Max tossed his phone onto his bed, before wiping his sweaty hands on his jeans. There was an anxious jiggling to his knee as he mumbled, "Dao, what went down in that dorm tonight is not normal. Seriously, I don't want to go see him. You go by yourself-"
"The hell I will!" Dao yelled, marching right up to his friend. He practically shoved a finger in Max's face as he continued, "You invited Trunks Briefs to the party tonight, so you aren't getting out of this. If I have to go face his parents and try to make the peace, then you damn well are coming with me to do it!"
Max looked away, staring off at the wall. Finally after a few seconds, he wiped his hands on his jeans again, and then nodded.
"Alright," Max quietly relented.
"Good. Now let's go talk to the EMTs before they take off so we can find out where they're taking him."
Max nodded. He stood up and followed Dao out of his room, silently saying a prayer for the first time in years that everything would turn out alright.
Trust. It was something that Vegeta still struggled with fundamentally, even after all this time. He trusted the Earth warriors, yes, but only in battle. On a deeper level though, he only trusted his wife and his children. That was it. Or at least, he thought that was it. Turned out, he was wrong.
Vegeta frowned and gently brushed his daughter's hair out of her face with his fingertips, the only parts of his hands that weren't bandaged. The little girl was sound asleep in his bed, in her usual shorts and one of her brother's sweaters. The prince sighed quietly to himself at the sight of Trunks' sweater, his stomach clenching with anxiety. He glanced up towards the ceiling when he felt Bulma start to leave their daughter's room. He then gathered his daughter up in his arms as best he could with his wounded hands, and lifted her up from the bed.
Bra stirred in his arms, peeking up at him. "Where are we going?" she whispered tiredly.
"Hush. Sleep, princess," he whispered back, cradling her gently as he turned to leave the room. Bra snuggled into his chest instinctively, and was asleep again before he even reached the door.
Bulma met him down the hall a moment later, carrying her daughter's pink bookbag, which was stuffed with clothes and toys. She checked the little girl in her husband's arms, before pulling out her cell phone and punching in a speed dial number.
Twenty seconds later, Goku appeared out of nowhere in front of them. His appearance showed that it was past three in the morning more than any clock ever could. He was in his boxers, his hair was a complete disaster, and his eyes were still bleary from sleep. It was obvious that Chi-Chi had literally just woken him up and he had immediately transported over.
His eyes quickly focused when he took a good look at his friends. Bulma's hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, and she was still wearing the oversized shirt she had been trying to sleep in, having just thrown on some jeans to go with it. Vegeta's left eye was twitching rhythmically with his stress, and the bandages on his hands made it look like he had pounded glass for hours. They both looked completely exhausted.
"I'm so sorry to wake you, Goku," Bulma whispered. "But we have to leave right away, and we can't take her with us."
"It's alright, Bulma. How is he?" Goku whispered in concern, taking the pink bookbag from Bulma and slinging it over his shoulder.
"We don't know. We just got the call a couple minutes ago," Bulma answered, unable to keep her worry out of her voice.
Goku nodded, and then turned to Vegeta. He took a step towards him, already opening his arms to take the little girl from him. Vegeta scowled, looking down at his daughter. He didn't want to let her go, but he had no choice. They had to go see Trunks immediately, and it was not a good idea to bring the little girl along when they had no idea what kind of condition their son was in.
In the moment of crisis, it dawned on the prince that he had been wrong indeed, for there was one other that he trusted absolutely and completely beyond the battlefield. He was the only man in existence who Vegeta could leave his daughter with and feel assured that she would be safe. He was the man standing in front of him now.
Without a threat or warning, the prince stepped forward and handed Bra over to Goku, who took her gently into his arms. Bra stirred but didn't rouse during the transfer. Vegeta sighed as he looked at her, before his eyes shifted up to meet Goku's.
"Don't worry, Vegeta. She'll be safe with me," Goku assured the man he now considered a close friend.
Vegeta stared at him for a few seconds, and then turned around and walked away without a word. Goku sighed, before looking at Bulma. "If you guys want, I can drop off Bra at home, come back here, take you guys to Trunks, and then go back home. It would only take a few seconds. Or if it makes you feel better, I could take you guys right now, so Bra's with us the whole time-"
"Thanks for the suggestion, but I'm gonna have to say no. One teleportation is more than enough for her, and I don't want you to leave her," Bulma said tiredly, looking at her little girl. "Don't worry about me and Vegeta. We'll make it there fast, I guarantee you."
They both looked over when Vegeta approached them again. He was holding Bra's stuffed bear in his left hand, barely able to grasp onto it. He gently tucked it into his daughter's sleeping arms.
"If she wakes up, she won't go back to sleep without this stupid thing," Vegeta quietly said, before taking a step back. Goku nodded as Bulma came to stand next to her husband. She grabbed onto his arm for support, though she wasn't sure if that support was more for him or for her.
"We'll come get her as soon as we can. Thank you so much for doing this for us, Goku," Bulma told him genuinely. Vegeta nodded, silently echoing her words.
"It's not a problem. Let me know how he is."
They both nodded to him. Goku gently shifted Bra as best he could so he was holding her with one arm. He then put two fingers to his forehead, and they were gone.
Bulma and Vegeta both immediately headed downstairs without a word. Half a minute later and they were already in the air in Bulma's hover jet. Vegeta looked out the side window at the dark night, focusing on his son's ki signature as he had been doing since his wife got the call. It was weak, but it was steady. That was the only reason they were even remotely calm. The fact that their daughter had been sound asleep had also curbed any potential panicking, mostly on the part of Bulma.
"We'll be there in a few minutes," Bulma informed him. She glanced at him worriedly, "You can still sense him, right?"
"Yes," he automatically responded, keeping his eyes out the window. "He hasn't changed condition since the phone call."
"You didn't feel anything earlier? Someone with a high power that you didn't recognize or something?"
"No," Vegeta said, scowling at the window.
They fell into a worried and tense silence, before Bulma finally said in a quiet voice, "This is what Bra meant."
Her husband looked back at her. "What?"
"She said the oldest comes first, right? That's Trunks. Vegeta, what if someone is targeting the kids?"
He sighed, shook his head, and looked back out the window. "Woman, we don't know all the details of what happened to Trunks tonight. Let's find that out first before you jump to wild conspiracy theories."
Bulma sighed, but didn't say anything else. She would wait and see.
She had to wait longer than she cared to. They arrived at the hospital where Trunks had been taken to, only to find that they had to wait to see him. A well-delivered threat from Vegeta had the staff assuring the couple that they would see their son as soon as possible. The Saiyan relented only because he was able to sense his son. He sat down on one of the chairs in the waiting area for patients in the ER, and crossed his arms. He joined the others who were also waiting in staring at the television playing an old game show, without actually watching it. Bulma joined him after she filled out some paperwork, and then the waiting game began.
After thirty minutes, Vegeta angrily hissed under his breath, "This is absurd. What the hell are they doing to him?"
"They're taking care of him. We'll see him as soon as we can," Bulma whispered to him.
"Hn."
"Excuse me. Are you two the parents of Trunks Briefs?" a rough voice asked from behind them.
Bulma and Vegeta both looked over their shoulders to see a slightly overweight, middle-aged police officer standing there. They stood up, and Bulma extended her hand to him while Vegeta remained close behind her.
"Yes. I'm Bulma Briefs, and this is my husband, Vegeta," she said as he took her hand and shook it.
"I'm Officer Mick Stawlan. I'm sorry to meet you both under these circumstances, and I promise I won't take up too much of your time. I just have some questions I need to ask about your son."
"That's fine."
Vegeta followed his wife as they went to stand somewhere with the officer where they could be alone. His eyes were narrowed as he listened to the known events that happened that night. Trunks had gone to a frat party that night and had drinks. They assumed the alcohol made him vomit in the bathroom. What happened afterwards, they could only assume was some kind of assault in that same bathroom.
"The power went out in the entire building, and students have said they felt the floors shaking. It seems set up and predetermined, like someone generated a distraction during the assault. Is there anyone Trunks was having problems with at school who you think might have something to do with this?"
"No," Bulma said, shaking her head. "Trunks hasn't even been there two months. He's just a freshman and he's still making friends."
"I see," the officer said, taking notes. "And what about you two?" he asked, looking up and examining them both. Vegeta's respect increased a notch when the officer made eye contact with him without any kind of fear. "Is there anyone who would be targeting either of you through your son?"
Bulma shifted uncomfortably under the question. She had been wondering the same thing, and she had no answer. Upon seeing her hesitation, Vegeta stepped up a little.
"There is no one targeting any of us," Vegeta growled angrily. "Furthermore, even if there was someone with a vendetta, there are few who are strong enough to hurt our son."
The officer nodded, taking more notes. "Alright. We'll continue looking into what might have happened tonight; we don't want this to happen to any other students. Here is my direct number," he said, handing Bulma a card. "Please let me know if either of you think someone might be behind this. Also, as soon as your son feels up to it, we'd like to ask him a few questions as well."
"Thank you," Bulma said, looking at the card. The officer nodded to them and walked away while Vegeta snorted in disgust.
"Trunks, assaulted," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Give me a fucking break."
Bulma sighed. "I don't know, Vegeta…" she started, clearly unconvinced.
"There is no one strong enough to hurt the boy. It sounds to me like he might have had problems controlling his power," Vegeta reasoned. "That's likely the reason for the power outage and the floors shaking, rather than some human getting the best of him."
"Since when does Trunks have problems controlling his power?" Bulma asked, looking up from the card to make eye contact with her husband.
It was a good question. He had no answer for that. He looked away with a frown, trying to think about the situation logically. But he was running out of ground to stand on. Before he could get out a word, a short doctor with gray hair approached them.
"Mrs. Briefs?"
"Yes," Bulma said, turning around to face the newcomer.
"My name is Dr. Beason. I'm the attending physician responsible for your son."
"How is he?"
"The boy suffered a severe anxiety attack. The EMTs had to give him a strong sedative so we could treat him. We've run several tests to rule out certain conditions, especially for the new disease Code V, but things are coming back fine. It seemed to be a response to the assault he went through tonight. He will make a full recovery, and should be released soon-either tomorrow or the day after, at the very latest."
"So it was an assault?" Bulma asked worriedly, as Vegeta turned around to give them both his back.
"By the nature of his injuries, yes-"
"Where is he?" Vegeta suddenly cut in.
"He's recovering in room 310B."
He had barely finished giving them the room number, when Bulma and Vegeta were both gone in that direction. Their urgency came to a sudden stop though when they finally reached Trunks' room, both of them gazing at their son. Bulma paused for a second, before rushing over to him. Vegeta, though, remained frozen in the doorway. His brain briefly stopped working at the sight of his son.
Trunks was unnaturally pale and out cold, his hair still damp with sweat and sticking out in crazy directions. There was visible bruising forming on his neck and in splotches on his chest where it look like he had been struck hard. The prince wiped his brow with the back of his forearm, before slowly making his way over towards the bed. Bulma was gently running her hand through Trunks' hair as Vegeta came to stand on the other side of their son.
The prince's teeth were grinding together as his eyes swept over his son's battered form. He leaned down and examined the bruises on his neck further. Trunks' skin was raw and the bruises were shaped roughly like thin fingers. Fingers from a hand that had clearly wrapped tightly around his throat. Bulma didn't have to say anything to him, because there was no longer any doubt. Someone had gotten to his son and done this to him. Vegeta could hardly wrap his mind around the thought that there was someone out there who could be so powerful, that he didn't already know about. But there was no longer any other explanation.
Vegeta's eyes were furious as he struggled to keep himself in check. He could feel his ki start to surge against his will in response to his growing rage. When he found out who was responsible for doing this to his son, heaven help them…
"What the hell?" Bulma quietly asked out loud, bringing Vegeta out of his murderous thoughts. "Vegeta, come look at this."
"Look at what?" he asked, coming around the bed to stand next to his wife. He leaned in close while Bulma gently turned Trunks' head away from them so they could see the side of his neck clearer. Vegeta blinked in surprise at the mark on his son's neck. Someone had literally burned some kind of strange design right into his skin. The burn was covered with a gel-like substance to help it heal, but the mark was clearly visible. "What the fuck?" Vegeta whispered.
"Do you recognize this?" Bulma asked, her blue eyes filled with tears at the thought that someone had done such a thing to her son.
"It looks familiar," he admitted, scowling at the marking. He struggled to recognize it, but after a few seconds, he shook his head in frustration. "I can't place it…"
Vegeta very gently outlined the markings, his fingertips barely grazing Trunks' skin, when the teenager jerked in response to the contact. The steady beeping that had been monitoring his heartbeat suddenly skyrocketed as Trunks sat straight up, gasping for air and looking around in an incoherent but complete panic.
"It's alright!" Bulma and Vegeta both said at the same time. Trunks flashed his parents a bewildered look, as though he couldn't recognize them. He was breathing heavily as he looked around the rest of the room, slowly starting to realize that he was in the hospital.
"It's okay, sweetie," Bulma told him soothingly, rubbing his back and looking at her son in concern. The teenager was shaking. "You're okay now."
Trunks gazed around the dimly lit room, before turning back to his parents. His eyes slowly started to focus as he looked at his mother, before they shifted to his father who was watching him carefully. Trunks sighed in relief. Though he was still out of sorts from the sedation, he knew that Vegeta's strong presence meant that he was safe.
Gradually, his shaking started to stop. He closed his eyes, his panic slowly going away. Bulma sat on the edge of his bed, continuing to rub his back.
"What the hell happened tonight, Trunks?" Vegeta demanded.
Trunks stayed silent as Bulma reached up and brushed some sweaty hair out of his face. Normally, he would have been completely opposed to his mother fussing over him. But right now, it was only Vegeta's presence that was keeping him from desperately grabbing onto Bulma and not letting her go. To hell with his bravado. He was genuinely scared to a degree he hadn't felt in his entire life.
He welcomed his mother's contact as he tried working through his thoughts, which were fuzzy and disjointed. It was difficult. Trunks frowned, before speaking in an extremely hoarse voice, "I don't-"
His voice cracked before he started coughing roughly. Bulma looked around the room, before looking at Vegeta and pointing to a pitcher of cold water. The prince nodded. He went over and poured out some of the water in a plastic cup, forcing his hands to cooperate as he put a straw in. He brought it back to his son, and awkwardly held the cup and straw while Trunks greedily drank down the water to soothe the dryness of his throat.
Vegeta pulled the cup back when Trunks was finished. "Well? What happened?" he demanded again.
Trunks looked up at his father through hazy eyes. His voice was only slightly better as he started rambling, "They were shadows. Or ghosts. Spirits. I don't know but I couldn't fight them, Dad. They surrounded me. Then there was the girl. It was real. She was real. I know she was. I'm not crazy. I saw them. They had weird, red eyes. They wanted to kill me. They were going to kill me-"
"Alright, take it easy," Bulma cut in when she saw the machine begin to accelerate with his heartbeat during his ranting. When Trunks turned to look at her, she leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. "We'll talk about it in the morning, okay? For now, just lay down and go back to sleep."
"I'm not crazy, Mom," Trunks insisted.
"No one is saying that you're crazy, sweetie. You've just had a hell of a night, and now you need rest."
The teenager frowned and appeared to consider her words, before looking back at his father. "You guys are staying, right?"
Vegeta was zoned out, scowling and looking off to the side at some of the medical equipment. Red eyes…?
"Dad?"
The prince snapped out of it and looked back at his son. He hadn't seen the boy look at him in such a manner since he was little and practically begging him to check under his bed for monsters he was certain he'd seen. Vegeta did the same thing now that he'd done then- give in, just so his son could rest easily. Though this time around, he didn't fight it nearly as much.
"Yes, son," Vegeta said, giving a curt nod. "We will be here. Now rest."
Appearing satisfied with that answer, Trunks slowly laid back down, wincing as he did. He shifted closer to his mother as she rubbed the top of his head.
"They said they'd be back," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "They'll be back."
"Shh, just sleep," Bulma whispered to him.
Trunks was out again in seconds, and Vegeta looked away as soon as he was. The prince looked out the window in the room, which overlooked the hospital outdoor parking lot and some residential homes beyond that. His son's explanation only left him more confused than ever. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up as he pictured the images from his nightmares. The slaughtered children with the haunting red eyes.
Could it be possible…?
Vegeta abruptly shook his head. That was a long time ago, and they were all dead. He had made sure of it. He had brutally massacred everyone on that planet, and then blown it up to pieces just for good measure. No, it couldn't be some survivor coming back for revenge.
He methodically sorted through the facts: The boy had been drinking. He'd been suffering from nightmares, therefore not sleeping well. Clearly, his strange explanation was the result of his incoherent state. In the morning, they would discuss the events again, with reason and logic.
"Vegeta?" The prince looked over his shoulder at his wife who was now standing behind him. "What do you think?"
"I think the boy was out of it," he answered, looking forward again. "Someone did this to him, probably taking advantage of the fact that he was inebriated. I will talk to him when he's more coherent, and then I plan on personally making sure that whoever did this to him pays for it." He paused for a moment, before adding, "Unless Trunks wants to do that himself."
Like their children, Bulma also drew reassurance and strength from Vegeta's presence. She needed to feel that now, because there was a knot of fear clenching in her stomach. She leaned up against her husband, hugging him from behind. He didn't respond to the contact, nor did he pull away as he continued staring out the window.
"What Trunks described…" Bulma whispered in his ear. "It's like what I saw in the TV a few days ago."
Vegeta frowned, his eyes shifting to the barely visible reflection of his wife in the glass. "What are you talking about, woman?" he demanded.
"Remember? When I bought you the sleeping medication? I saw someone in the reflection of the TV."
Vegeta cocked his head to one side. That day had been a blur of sleep. It took him a moment before he finally remembered what she was talking about.
"What of it?"
"It was just like Trunks described. A shadow with red eyes." The prince scowled and looked back down through the glass at the hospital parking lot. He said nothing in response, and so Bulma pressed on, worry in her voice. "I didn't tell him anything about it. There's no way he could have known."
When her husband's silence stretched on for almost a whole minute, she quietly spoke up again. "Vegeta?"
His voice was almost mechanical as he responded, "It's almost four in the morning, Bulma. Get some rest. We will talk about this more later."
"I guess…"
"Everything will be fine," he confidently affirmed. He raised his right hand and in a light caress, he barely trailed his fingertips over her hands which were still on his chest. "We will figure this out in the morning when the boy is more awake."
Bulma nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck for several seconds, before sighing against his skin. "Alright," she relented, finally withdrawing from him.
Vegeta watched out of the corner of his eye as she took a seat in an old recliner in the room, close to Trunks. He crossed his arms and glared back out the window. Bulma eventually fell asleep, and the sun eventually began to rise, but Vegeta hadn't moved an inch, not feeling the least bit tired. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he was going to find out and put a stop to it.
If someone wanted his attention, they now had it.
Meanwhile, down by Mount Paozu, Bra was wide awake and clutching her bear tightly to her. She was wrapped up in a warm comforter, and Chi-Chi was only a couple feet away from her in bed, sound asleep. On the floor next to the bed, Goku was sprawled out on an air mattress in a mess of bed sheets, snoring away. It was dark in the bedroom, but Bra was staring at the third being in the room, which she could see clearly in the darkness.
"My daddy wouldn't do that," Bra whispered very quietly so as not to wake the adults as she clutched her bear tighter.
Of course he would. He's evil.
"Nuh uh," Bra whispered with a frown. "He's a good daddy."
Your father is bad. He will die last, so he learns.
Bra whimpered and buried into her blankets. "He's strong. He won't die," she meekly said, her eyes filling with tears at the mere idea of anything happening to her father.
We're stronger.
"Not stronger than him."
Do you want to see what your father is truly like?
"I know what my daddy's like."
Did you know that he is a murderer?
"…he did shoot a bird down once…" she relented, frowning in disapproval at the memory.
Don't worry. We'll show you the truth soon…
"Bra?" Goku mumbled tiredly, finally stirred out of his slumber. He slowly sat up and squinted over at the little girl on the bed. Bra was shaking and fighting back tears as she clutched her bear for dear life. "Whatsa matter?" he asked.
"Nothing," Bra squeaked out.
"Who were you talking to?"
"No one," the little girl answered quietly.
"Well, alright," Goku gently conceded before yawning. "Try to get some sleep, okay?"
Bra nodded as the Saiyan laid back down. She pulled up her bear close and closed her eyes, willing her tears not to spill over. Goku was strong, just like Vegeta. He had assured her the first time she woke up that night that he would look out for her and that her parents would pick her up soon. She replayed that assurance in her mind for a long time. It wasn't until the sun was rising that she managed to fall asleep again.
A few hours later though, she woke up with a blood-curling scream.
"Why the hell do I have to be the one to carry these?" Max almost whined the next morning, juggling a huge bouquet of "get well" roses.
"Do you want to do the talking?" Dao hissed at him. Max shook his head. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Now just carry the flowers and shut the fuck up while I handle this."
The boys tried maneuvering around a slew of media folks and paparazzi who were trying to get the scoop on what had happened the night before. Bulma was at the front of them, and was trying to get the point across that Trunks was fine and that the family wanted privacy during this time. Still, the pictures were being taken and the message wasn't being received.
Suddenly out of nowhere, all of the cameras and camcorders exploded. Immediately afterwards, an angry man with flame-style hair stepped up next to Bulma and viciously snarled, "All of you will leave this hospital and leave my family in peace. NOW!" he screamed at them.
Everyone instantly scattered like rodents. Vegeta passed an ice cold glare to the two boys who remained, one carrying a bouquet of roses. The boys were completely pale as they stared at him in terror. The prince then looked at his wife who touched his arm and said something quietly to him. He nodded and they walked back inside together.
"Yeah," Max said, nodding. "Yeah, you can definitely handle this one, man." Dao looked at him bleakly. Max motioned with his head to go after Vegeta. "Come on, let's go."
"Yeah. Alright," Dao said quietly.
Both boys then headed inside, eager to get this over with. They got the right room number from the receptionist, and then quietly went up the elevator to go see how Trunks was, and hopefully get on the good side of his parents.
Dao knocked lightly on the door. Vegeta opened it, and both boys took a step back away from him. The man before them was completely intimidating, and Dao briefly lost his resolve.
"Who the hell are you two?" Vegeta demanded.
Dao cleared his throat, before forcing himself to say, "Sir, my name is Dao Chiang. I'm a junior at WCC, and VP of Beta Yhi. This is my friend Max Anderson, and he's a senior and president of Beta Yhi. We know Trunks, and came to visit to make sure he's alright."
Vegeta stared at the boy in front of him. His eyes narrowed and then shifted to the taller, blond boy behind him who was carrying the flowers. That one looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there and avoided eye contact with him. The prince studied him for a moment, before looking back at the boy in front of him.
"What the hell is Beta Yhi?"
Dao shifted uncomfortably, before quietly saying, "It's a fraternity-"
"So you're the fucks that got my son drunk?" Vegeta snarled angrily.
"Sir," Dao meekly said while Max tried raising his roses high enough to hide behind them, "We admittedly invited your son to a party we had last night. We were interested in recruiting Trunks to join us. Our fraternity only admits the best students, and we have the highest overall GPA of all the frats on campus. We take our work seriously, and we never intended for anything to happen to your son-"
"Save your prepared speech for someone who gives a shit," Vegeta hissed. "I will have a good discussion with my son, and then decide what to do about such a prestigious fraternity that gets underage students drunk."
The two boys could do nothing but nod. The prince looked over at Max, and ordered, "Bring the flowers inside. My wife will appreciate the gesture." The Saiyan stepped aside and let Max enter, but when Dao tried coming in, he extended his arm out and stopped him. "I didn't give you permission, boy. Wait here," Vegeta said, before disappearing into the room behind Max.
Dao took a few steps back and crossed his arms, anxiously watching the door. He hoped his friend would come out of this one alive.
"Hi, ma'am," Max said politely, reaching out to shake Bulma's hand. "My name is Max. I know Trunks from school. I brought these for him."
"Oh, that's so nice of you," Bulma said with a tired smile, taking the roses into her hands. "It is a bit dreary in here. These will liven the room up a bit."
"Yeah," Max said, uncomfortably looking out of the corner of his eye at Vegeta, who was now leaning up against the wall and staring a hole straight through him. Max buried his hands in his pockets and looked over at Trunks, who was still sound asleep. His eyes roamed over the now-nasty bruises, and he winced a little. "Is he going to be okay?" he quietly asked.
"Yeah, he'll be fine. He's a tough guy, just like his father," Bulma told him as she back down next to Trunks.
Max nodded and swallowed when he saw the burn on the side of Trunks' neck. His hands were shaking as he took a step back. He turned to the door, awkwardly muttering, "I need to step out and make a phone call-"
"You know something."
Max was startled as he looked up at the Saiyan who was staring at him. Max felt like he was completely exposed under his intense gaze.
"Sir?" he asked quietly.
"You heard me, boy," Vegeta growled. "You are hiding something, and you aren't leaving this room until you tell us what it is. And if you don't, then I will tell the police that you did this to my son."
"I-I didn't-" Max sputtered, shaking his head. "I swear, I had no idea-"
"Vegeta…" Bulma started, looking at her husband with narrowed eyes. "He's just a kid-"
"A kid who is hiding something, and I want to know what," Vegeta cut in, not taking his eyes off Max.
"It's…it's stupid," Max whispered, looking back at Trunks. "You'll think I'm nuts."
"Try me."
"The mark," Max said, his voice barely steady now. "I've seen it before."
Bulma and Vegeta were both giving him their full attention now. The prince stepped forward. "Where?"
"It's carved in one of the dorm room doors at school," Max answered, forcing himself to look away. "Everyone always tries to figure out what it means, but no one knows. The mark showed up one morning. The girl who lived in the room died sometime the next night."
"When did this happen?" Bulma quietly asked.
"Almost twenty years ago. The girl got sick and died, one day to the next…" Max said with a shrug, looking down at his shoes.
"How the hell do you know this?" Vegeta demanded.
Max scratched the back of his head, his eyes still down. "Aw, well, she's the only student who's ever died on the WCC campus. Students made up all kinds of stories and now it's like an urban legend kind of thing. It's been dying down the last couple years though, cause we got a new school president, and she warned us to stop spreading those stories. Talking about how we're scaring the pre-frosh away and disrespecting the girl's memory. You'll get in serious trouble nowadays if you pass it down and you're caught, but some people do it anyways. Our frat doesn't, though. We tell our guys the truth." He shrugged again and awkwardly kicked at the floor a little.
"What's the story?" Bulma asked. Vegeta stayed silent, also unable to help his curiosity.
"Well…they say that she didn't die in her sleep. Some say her parents killed her in some kind of weird ritual; they say her parents were fucking insane. Others say that she went nuts and killed herself. But the real story that gets people going is that some kind of evil force overwhelmed her and killed her. Regardless of what you believe, rumors say that the girl still can be seen around campus. Some guys swear they've seen her, and that she's always waiting. They say that on the anniversary of her death, you could hear her screaming on campus as she's dying. Course, a bunch of girls start screaming randomly on that day to scare the hell out of the freshmen."
"What was her name?"
"Kegan," Trunks cut in. They all looked at him in surprise. His eyes were unfocused as he looked over at Max. "Kegan Xhao."
"Xhao?" Bulma asked, blinking in surprise. Her face scrunched up a little in confusion, and she looked off in thought. "Where have I heard that name before…?" she mumbled to herself.
"I saw her," Trunks insisted, closing his eyes again as Bulma reached to him and ran a hand through his hair. "I felt her. I know I did."
Max shook his head and bleakly responded, "It's not possible."
"I saw her."
Max looked at Trunks for a few moments. Finally, he turned and tried walking out, but Vegeta was blocking the way. He looked up and easily met Vegeta's gaze. At that moment, he was more afraid of being associated with Trunks than he was of the Saiyan Prince.
"Sir, I've told you everything, and I'm really, really glad Trunks will be alright. But to be honest, this stuff is freaking me out, and I just want to go home," he borderline pleaded.
Vegeta studied him intently, before finally concluding that he was being genuine. He stepped aside and let the boy pass, watching him the entire time while Bulma's phone suddenly started to vibrate.
"Hello?" Bulma answered, turning away from both Vegeta and Trunks. "What?" she asked in a tone that immediately got Vegeta's attention. "No, it's okay. One of us will go get her. Thanks, Chi-Chi."
"What's wrong?" Vegeta asked when she hung up and looked back at him with concern.
"Something's wrong with Bra."
