This chapter is kind of boring, I think. But uh...it's necessary :)
Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.
Coincidence
Chapter 6
He dragged me to a lonesome part of the forest close to Trunks' house. The thick leaves seemed to block out most of the sun, giving the impression that it was much later than it was.
He went over to a rock a few feet ahead and sat down, leaning against it. The few sunrays streaming in from between the leaves illuminated his face, making him seem angelic with the peaceful glow that appeared like an aura around him. He looked up at me, observing me with a small smile on his lips as he noticed I wasn't moving. He tilted his head to the side; a silent question.
"Uh…sorry." I stutter. I'm nervous. Can he tell?
"Sit down." He whispers, and gestures with his hand to show me he wants me to sit next to him.
I disobey him and sit in front of him instead.
"I went to your apartment." I say suddenly, the silence too awkward for my liking.
"Oh?" he says, raising his eyebrows, attention all on me.
"You weren't there." I go on, probably revealing too much disdain than intended, but at least there is no awkward silence anymore.
"Why would you go there?" he asks tentatively.
He leans forward just a bit, prepared to engage in this conversation and alerting me to the fact that we will finish this talk now.
"I thought you would be at your apartment." I shrug.
He nods.
"And I thought you'd be at Capsule Corp." he smiles. "Guess we really are brothers, huh?" he chuckles.
I avert my gaze. It's not that funny, but I know he's not amused. He's uncomfortable as hell and I can tell.
"I wanna say I'm sorry." I say abruptly.
He quirks an eyebrow, confusion written all over his face.
"Yeah." I continue, "I'm sorry for blaming you."
He pouts, "You were blaming me? I didn't know that."
I shrug, I don't know what else to say.
"So what were you blaming me for?"
I didn't expect that.
I sigh in an attempt to relieve my stress. It doesn't work. It never does.
"I was mad 'cause Mom never touched you." I say staring at a suddenly very interesting spot on the ground. I can't look at him. I'm so ashamed.
I can feel him nod gravely. I hope he doesn't hate me.
"I figured as much." He sighs.
I look up, astonished. I'm sure he can read my face too. Just like Trunks. Maybe even better.
"Yeah," he chuckles, "I acted kind of aggressively that day, didn't I?" he smiles in that way of his, trying to alleviate the gravity of the moment.
I try to smile back, but I'm so bad at acting. He can tell of course.
He crawls forward so he can see me better. I want to scoot back, but I know it'll only upset him. I guess we really need to have this talk now. When he's right in front of me, so close I can feel the heat of his breath, I speak.
"I thought she hit you." I start, my mouth moving on its own accord, "I thought she did it to you too."
I sigh. This is pathetic. I wish I could just out and say it like I did with Trunks yesterday. Why is this so hard?
"I understand." He nods. He's trying to be as patient as he can. I know he's in no hurry, but I feel as if he wants this to move along. He doesn't want a repeat of me blacking out.
"Well," I can't look at him so my fingers play with the dirt, "as you might have noticed already, she's hit me for a long time. It doesn't hurt or anything, but…" God, I don't know what to say. I can't tell him I enjoy it. He's not Trunks, he wouldn't understand.
"I know it doesn't hurt."
I look up at him at his words, his eyes meeting mine. Two sets of identical pairs of eyes. His gaze is so calming and I instantly forget my nervosity. There is only Gohan and me now. I can tell him. I don't have to be scared. I smile.
"Well, she's not very strong." I joke.
He smiles.
"So anyway," I continue, trying t get back to a more serious tone, "I came home that day…the day you found us…and uh…" God, I don't know where to begin.
"Start from the beginning." He says, as if reading my mind.
I chuckle, "OK. Umm, so I'd spent the night at Capsule Corp. because I'd been missing Trunks since he'd been sick all week," I start, and his eyes are focused intently on my face as I speak, "because I beat him up." I sigh. God, I still feel bad about that.
"Yeah, I heard about that." He chuckles.
Wait, don't laugh. It's not funny!
"Don't laugh!" I almost scream, "It's not funny, he was seriously hurt."
He tries to suppress his giggles, but he's still shaking with what I can only assume is amusement, and it's kind of annoying me. Can no one see a problem when there is one? First Vegeta and now Gohan? Seriously, Trunks was in bad shape.
"I'm sure he can take it." He says after his giggles have died down.
I glare at him, a warning. One that says 'don't mess with my best friend, or else'. But, he doesn't seem to notice.
"Well, anyway," I continue, "when I got home she was pissed because I hadn't been home in like a day or two, I can't really remember, it's kind of all a blur, but anyway, she hit me when I arrived and then she found a branch – "
"And I stopped her." He finishes for me.
"Yeah." I nod.
"So then what?"
"Well, you were there." I remind him with a snort.
He sighs in irritation, "I mean, what did you think when you saw me. I'm assuming…?"
"Yeah." I answer, "I didn't realize what was going on until she started crying and you hit her." I pause, again letting it sink in more for my benefit than for his, "The look on your face just…" I shake my head in disbelief, "I knew she'd never touched you."
"I was shocked." He nods absently.
"Yeah." I say. There really isn't much to add anyway. "And then I got mad. At you. Because you hit her."
"Why? Why did you hit me?" he pleads.
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, "She cried for you. I guess I was jealous."
He nods, "Yeah, and she hit you when you tried to defend her."
"So, what now?" I ask, trying to figure something out. For once. Maybe Gohan already has this all figured out.
"Have you seen her?" he gets to the point.
"No."
He sighs, "Do you want to go back?"
"I don't know." I say, staring at the ground again, feeling the discomfort creep up again.
I can feel him nod.
"Have you?" I suddenly ask, curious.
"No." he says flatly, "I don't think I can ever look at her the same."
I'm astonished. I didn't know this had affected him so much.
"Because what she did?" I ask, somewhat incredulous.
"Of course." he replies, bewildered, "Why would anyone want to go back to that?"
"So you don't think I should go back?" I ask.
"I didn't say that." He looks guilty and looks away.
I smile. I know he's just being the caring, responsible big brother. It warms my heart.
"I know." I grin.
His eyes come out to meet mine and when they do, we burst out into laughter.
When we return to a somewhat normal state he speaks.
"When you figure out what you want to do, tell me, OK? I want to help." His voice is so grave, yet so full of kindness.
I don't know what he's offering, but I'm glad nonetheless. I don't want to be alone in this. I'm glad I have my big brother to lean on.
"I will." I smile.
I return to Capsule Corp. straight afterwards. I don't want to go home to Mom. I know Gohan understands, and I got the feeling that he didn't want me to return home either. Either way I'm glad. I feel like a huge set of bricks has just removed itself from my aching ribs, allowing me to finally breathe. I feel content.
Trunks is in school, I notice. Bulma is in her lab. I make sure to check for everyone's ki when I enter the dome, to make sure I don't run into anyone. I know it's been my motto lately, but I just want to be alone.
Once inside my room, having cleverly avoiding running into anyone, except for a few robots who don't have ki signatures, I sit down on my bed, now wondering if I should have just gone to school. I'm bored. This sucks. There is nothing in this room to stimulate any part of me, mental or physical and I'm booooored.
I decide I need to leave. Leave Capsule Corp. for now. Go visit old friends. See what it turns into.
I exit the dome, careful to close the door before I take off.
"What do you think you're doing?" the voice bellows behind me.
Shit, it's Vegeta. What does he want?
I turn around swiftly, plastering my trademark smile on my face, oozing enthusiasm. He doesn't buy it.
"What do you mean?" I ask with as much innocence as I can muster. God, this isn't easy. I'm losing my touch.
"Don't play dumb, boy." He says as he leans on the building, nonchalant in every way.
What is he talking about? Don't play dumb? Did I do something?
"I really don't know what you mean." My face falls; now I'm worried.
He scoffs, "No need to be so concerned. I won't tell anyone."
What? Tell anyone what?
"Tell who what?" I question with slight irritation.
He shrugs.
"It's none of my business." And then he walks away.
Huh? What?
"Hey!" I yell after him, starting to trot after him, "I said wait up!" I yell as I catch up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder.
He shrugs me off, apparently not pleased with the gesture. He growls.
I stare at him, he glares at me. Then he walks away.
I decide it's best to not push it. I'm really not in the mood today either, but I can't help but to think of what it is he means. Is it something to do with Gohan? I saw him talking to him earlier today, so it's very likely that that is the case. However, he could just think I'm getting myself into trouble one way or another…hell! I don't know! Vegeta is so slow to get to the point! Maybe I should take him up on that offer to spar with him. So I can kick his ass. Fucking elusive bastard.
"Hey, Vegeta." I call, now with a more cheerful tone.
He turns around, quirking an eyebrow, possible curious as to my drastic change in temper.
"Yes?" he asks, with just as much of his usual grouchy stubbornness.
I grin widely and catch up with him, then smirk.
"You said to come back when I'm ready. Well, I'm ready now." I say, exuding confidence.
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion at first, then realization crosses his tan features. He smirks.
We head for the Gravity Chamber.
There is a loud banging coming from outside.
We are in the Gravity Chamber, sweaty, bloody, and utterly exhausted from 5 hours of excruciating pain and, in Saiyan terms, cardio. We are panting harshly, and Vegeta hops on one leg to the control panel, and slams his fist down on the button that opens up the heavy door.
As Trunks comes into view, his seemingly bored face slowly turns into a wide grin as he takes in the sight of us. His crystal blue eyes travel from me to his father, back to me, and back again, until I decide to interrupt, what I take as liberally ogling either me or his father, the latter of which I'm quite anxious is not the case.
"We were sparring." I say, out of breath.
"I can see that." He grins, finally locking eyes with me. He stretches his arm out to me and says, "Come on, you've missed a lot of homework."
I take his hand and hop down to the soft grass, my legs still wobbly from the strenuous work out I just had.
He chuckles mischievously as he supports me with one of my arms going around his neck, while he clutches my hip tightly, leading me into Capsule Corp.
He takes me straight to the showers.
Vegeta being Vegeta, had decided from the get go that I would be a walking corpse by the time he was done with me, so now I'm unable to even stand by myself. I find myself wondering if I had the same effect on him.
The fight in itself was quite normal. We punched and we kicked and we blasted each other. Nothing out of the ordinary. At first I wanted to make him suffer for all my recent traumas, but when all that was out of my system, the fight was equally matched, and I landed just as strong attacks as he did. We were tied. He never said so himself, but I know he was proud. Or in awe. Whatever one should call it. I got the feeling he wanted to say it was like fighting my father, but I think even that would be too low a blow for him, so I let it slide. This time.
Inside the bathroom, which I soon discover is in fact Trunks' own bathroom, I sit down on the toilet seat and start peeling off the torn and bloody garments. It's quite painful to do so since my arm got dislocated at one point, but not so painful as to debilitate me. Once I have successfully peeled off all my clothing, including my sweat soaked boxers, I stand up, using the sink as support to lead me into the shower.
Upon glancing up, I notice Trunks is still in the bathroom. Well, why wouldn't he be? I never heard him get out. He's not paying attention to me, although all his senses are vigilant should I suddenly decide to fall on my ass.
"Hey, Trunks." I say from position of leaning over the sink, now smudged with blood from my dirty hands.
"Yeah?" he looks up, apparently as if I'd just snapped him out of some disturbing thought, and looks questioningly at me.
"Do you have any shower seat in there…?" I ask tentatively, not too keen on the idea of having to have Trunks wash me.
He smiles, "Yeah, Mom put one in last week, after I'd recovered from our spar."
I snort. It's kind of funny actually.
"Thanks." I mutter, then climb into the shower cautiously.
I close the door behind me and turn on the water. I step into the hot stream and close my eyes, enjoying the relaxing sensation.
Trunks stays inside the bathroom. He doesn't move. I know he won't move until I come out. He'll hand me the towel, help support me so I don't fall, make sure I'm thoroughly clean and dry, see to it that I haven't missed anything, and then he will lead me into his room, give me a fresh set of clothes, help me put them on, and then he will lay me on his bed, and we will talk. He's in the mood to talk. He's smiling, and he's excited about something, and even if he's concerned about my wellbeing, he still wants to talk about it. Like old times.
I manage to finish showering without killing myself, and as I step out, there is Trunks, with a towel in hand, holding it out for me, and rubbing me dry as he pulls it around me. He dries my hair, my shoulders, my ears, my back, my stomach, and then he turns me around. He looks into my eyes; that attentive, friendly gaze, and he hands me the towel so I can finish drying the rest. He smiles, and watches as I finish and wraps the towel around my waist.
He supports my arm on his shoulder as he leads me out of the steaming room and into the large expanse of his room. It's spacious and baby blue, just the same as it was when we were 8. Although, now it's less littered with toys and more often aired out, so it smells oddly refreshing, with a little bit of the cranberry that is Trunks.
"It smells nice." I murmur as he leads me to the bed and sits me down.
He chuckles, "Yeah. I guess."
He goes to his humongous walk-in closet, disappears for a few moments, and comes back with a light blue t-shirt, socks, boxers, and a pair of gray sweat pants with the Capsule Corp logo on them.
"This OK?" he asks, already knowing the answer.
I nod; we've done this so many times before. The sleepovers, the sparring sessions, the whenever-you-need-to-crash-just-come-over type thing. He's forever patient with me. Trunks.
I think I love you, Trunks.
"So," he begins as he pulls the thin material over my head, "how was your day?"
I shrug. "I talked to Gohan." I say as he continues to dress me as if I were a 5 year old.
"Yeah?" he hums from underneath me, slipping the socks around my feet.
"Yeah. Then I had a spar with Vegeta."
"Yeah, I figured." I feel him snickering. "So how was the talk with Gohan?"
I shrug, "It was alright, I guess." As an afterthought, I add, "There was no screaming."
He chuckles underneath me, "That's good."
I nod.
Then he stands up straight and motions for me to lie down.
"Sweatpants." He says.
I nod. It's funny in a way how he does this for me. As if I'm a child or a cripple, but it doesn't bother me. It's not embarrassing. It's a part of our relationship.
He slips them on neatly and I raise my hips so he can pull them up. Then he flops down next to me, head of his hands, elbows propped up on the soft cushion beneath him, as he stares into a seemingly unimportant spot on the wall.
"So, what's on your mind?" I ask him.
His preciously relaxed face explodes into a wide grin, mischievous and cunning, as if this is what he was aiming for all along.
He turns around and observes me briefly before he turns on his side, to face me.
"OK, so I know you don't like surprises…." I raise an eyebrow as he smiles sheepishly, "But, how would you feel if I got you something?" he asks, tilting his head in expectation.
"Huh?" I ask, ever the suspicious one at Trunks' mood swings.
"For your birthday!" he clasps his hands together in mild shock.
"Oh right." I say a bit absent-mindedly.
I'd totally forgotten. This week I turn 17.
Joy.
"So what do you say?" he asked, expectantly, and I swear, if he had a tail it would be wagging right now. Like a fucking puppy.
"Ugh." I say, "Fine." I know I sound really reluctant, but Trunks has a habit of completely ignoring things like that. I don't know if I should be grateful or not.
We lay there for a while, quiet, and I can see that he's deep in thought. I wonder what he's thinking about. His eyebrows are knitted tightly together, and his lips carry a misplaced frown. Misplaced for Trunks' face at least. I'm not going to disturb him; in fact, I'm going to take this time to get things into perspective.
For one, I had actually thought that entering the Gravity Chamber with Vegeta would bring some sexually repressed feelings to the surface, and that I would be rendered completely debilitated, but that never happened. The only time I actually looked at his body was when I was assessing which body part would suffer the biggest blow if I hit it in just the right angle. Perhaps it was all the pent up anger. Or the jealousy. But, I didn't feel nervous at all. I'm beginning to think that it was all just a really stupid crush, and I'm actually relieved that it's over. It has to be, right? Ugh, I don't think I care anymore. I'm glad to be away from home and I'm glad to not have to be worried over embarrassing myself further due to indescribable, hormonal nervosity. Yeah, that shit is for kids. I'm turning 17 so whatever.
Well, kid or no kid, Trunks is turning 18 next month. But, before that can happen, we need to battle my birthday. I don't really know why he does it, but every year it's the same. There's never a big birthday party, nothing fancy at all, but Trunks always sneaks in late at night, when the clock strikes midnight, and congratulates me on my birthday. Says he wants to be the first to do so. Every. Fucking. Year. I'm not annoyed or anything, I just don't know how he does it. He keeps me up all night though. I suppose that's a little tedious, but it's fun, nonetheless. I'm actually a bit bummed that it can't happen this year, seeing as I don't live at home anymore. I mean, what is he going to do? Break into my room here at Capsule Corp? Fat chance. He says he has a surprise. God, I hope it's nothing embarrassing.
I think we've been laying here silent for hours. It doesn't feel that way, but the sun is setting. His eyes are closed and his chest is steadily heaving. I don't think he's asleep though. He smiles.
"You can't forget my birthday, Goten." He turns to me, opens his eyes, and smirks, "I'll be an adult in ju~st a few weeks."
I snort, "Yeah, so?"
He smirks even wider, "Well, I've got quite the surprise for you then, so you'll have to out due me, OK?" he winks, "Can't have my present be the most extravagant on my special day, don't you agree?"
"I didn't know turning into an 'adult' meant turning into an arrogant, smug, manipulative asshole." I joke.
He laughs heartily, "Yeah, yeah, you're right. But, it's quite intimidating, isn't it?" he smiles, losing the smirk and superior air.
I chuckle, "I guess."
And that's the way it goes. Dinner comes soon, and then it's off to bed. Trunks doesn't come sneaking into my bed tonight, or the next night either for that matter. I don't know if I expect him to, but I manage to finally get some sleep. I no longer roam these empty hallways at night. That's an improvement, I think. I'm happy to say that I'm now living at Capsule Corp. I think I'm ready to call this my home now. Hell, it's always been more homely than my real home and I think I've spent more time here than anywhere else. But, I can't help but feel like a burden. What does Bulma think? I'm not worried at all about Vegeta, and even Bulma's parents don't mind, but Bulma…she's beyond me. And were I to speak with her, I don't think I could decipher all her different signs. Body language. One thing I've learned over the years is that women never speak their minds. At least not the pampered ones. Well, I suppose none of them do. I'm just making excuses for them. I don't think I'll ever understand, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to talk with her. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow I'll talk to her.
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