Hey guys!
Thank you for your support so far! It's really appreciated. I've missed the community :)
So this is not a particularly long fic. After this one, only another 2 chapters to go~
He was sitting at his kitchen bench, munching on a slice of toast when a faint tap sounded from his front door. Goten paused when he heard it, unsure if it had happened inside or outside his head. He sensed nothing on the other side of the wall so shrugged it off and took another bite.
When the knock came again, he paused before padding for the door, feet bare and dressed only in pyjama bottoms as he dusted his hands clean.
Still processing the crispy contents of his mouth, he pulled it open, unable to stop the cough that ungracefully resulted when he saw who was on the other side.
"Bulla," he said into his fist, attempting to prevent his breakfast spraying across her face. "What-" He shook his head. "What are you doing here?" Goten ducked behind the door, checking the time. It was only ten thirty-five. Given their brief, yet awkward encounter the night before, he'd entirely expected to never see her again. "And how did you find me?"
"I said I'd catch up with you later, didn't I?" She stepped past him, inviting herself inside. "Figured you had to live somewhere near that dingy twenty-four hour laundro when we ran into each other last night."
Right... Goten nodded slowly still unsure what was happening right now.
"I came back this morning to figure out which building was yours." After glancing around the passage, Bulla blinked. "Are you going to give me a tour?"
"Uh." He hesitated. "Sure?"
Walking the two paces to catch up to her, he pointed to his living area. "Lounge." He directed his arm to the opposite side. "Kitchen." Nodding his head forward, he concluded, "Bedrooms and bathroom."
Bulla poked her head into his spare and main bedrooms before spinning around to face him again. "Not bad for a farm boy."
They weren't even five minutes in and her Briefs blood was showing through clear as glass.
"Not that I don't appreciate the surprise visit, but..." He scratched the back of his head. "Why are you here?"
A girlish smile spread.
She's a Briefs, alright, he thought, noting a familiar spark behind ice-like eyes. Watch out, Goten.
"I wanted to say hi," she said. "Properly." Bulla wandered into the living area and plopped herself onto his three-seater. "It's been years since I've seen you guys."
Goten followed her, still feeling more apprehensive than he should have given it was his own place. She was a teenage girl, he reminded himself, hardly someone he needed to keep his guard against.
He took the adjacent loveseat, still observing her carefully. "It has been," he said, flashes of many an afternoon spent cavorting around her central city mansion fading in. "How is everyone? Your brother, your parents."
Her affable exterior slipped for an instant. "Fine," she said, taking in the paintings that adorned his walls. Bulla hopped up when she spotted the floating shelf lined with assorted framed photos. "So what have you been up to all this time?"
"Keeping my head down mostly," he said, rising to join her. "Staying out of trouble, stopping in at my mom's when I can."
Bulla wiped a dainty finger over his family portrait, the one taken years before with just his parents and brother.
She continued along the shelf, eyeing a few more before stopping at one in particular. What little warmth had sprouted since her arrival snuffed the moment he saw what she had been looking at.
It was a photo of him, along with his, at the time, six-year-old niece. Pan was sitting on his shoulders while Goten gripped her shins. Both were beaming at the camera, blissful, as Pan held two towering waffle-cones in her tiny hands.
He could see Bulla's eyes resting on the young hybrid and took a step towards her.
"This is cute," she said. "How old are you here?"
"About your age, I guess," he shrugged, watching her again. What was she really doing here? The conversation had been disjointed at best, there had been no 'catching up' to speak of, and there was a solid ten-plus year age gap between them. He wasn't especially sure how to even talk to her.
Bulla turned to face him, loose aqua hair flicking out from underneath her floppy French-style hat. "Do you want to grab something to eat?"
"I've just eaten." He pointed to his kitchen, evidence of said breakfast still present.
"You're a Saiyan." She led him to his bedroom and waited at the door. "You're always ready to eat more."
Goten and Trunks sat along the grassy bank, flicking pebbles across tranquil surface water while a red sun lowered behind the treeline ahead of them. Neither had said much, each opting to enjoy the ambient nature soundtrack so lacking in their supremely urban backdrop.
At least that's what he told himself.
Truthfully, their ties were growing increasingly strained and the threads holding the two half-Saiyans together were groaning in warning of an upcoming snap.
"Seeing anyone lately?" Goten asked after ten consecutive minutes of silence, flinging a stone to the opposite side of the lake. "I never told you this, but I always envied the absolute tens you used to pull."
Trunks let out a chuckle before swishing his lavender strands back. "Oh, I knew. And not really." He tossed his own stone.
"Why not?" Goten said. "Too busy?"
"Sure," said Trunks. "But not my type a lot of the time."
Fair enough, Goten thought. When you're as sought after as Trunks Briefs, you get to be picky.
The fledgling conversation was speared by the ear-shattering screech of a teenage girl a few hundred metres away. He couldn't make out what the point of contention was this time, but he was willing to bet it didn't warrant the volume.
"We should probably start heading back," Goten exhaled, dropping the dried reed he'd been fiddling with between his knees. "I'm guessing everyone's saying their goodbyes."
As they walked along the spongy path leading back to his mother's house, Trunks paused, gaze on the patch of forest to their right. "Give me a second," he said.
With nothing better to do, Goten followed him into the brush. The older of the two appeared to be following invisible cues along the way and seemed to know exactly where he was going, though Goten had no idea what they were doing, despite it being his own stomping ground.
After a few minutes, Trunks got down on his haunches, eyes on the dirt, and said, "No way," while pawing packed soil. "It's still here, totally undisturbed."
"What is?"
"Our cat."
"What?!" Goten exclaimed, jumping back.
"Relax, she's not alive. I buried her here years ago."
"Dude, why the fuck are you buring your animals in the hills of Mount Paozu?"
Trunks shrugged, unfazed. "Rather your backyard than mine. No one comes out here anyway, man. Don't worry about it. Let's go."
Once the pair approached Chi-Chi's cottage, they were greeted by a shrill, "Leave me alone!" Followed by, "I'm so sick of you and dad commenting on every little thing I do." Fists coiled at her sides, Pan stamped her foot. "Have you ever considered that maybe I'm not as stupid as you treat me? I know for a fact that if I left home right now, I'd do just fine on my own."
This again. Goten suppressed an eye roll.
Pan marched towards the elder hybrids, head still turned to scowl at her mother. When she finally faced forward, she came nose-to-nose with Trunks and stopped in her tracks, narrowly avoiding a head-on collision. All the gusto she'd displayed moments before blew out of her in an instant as she stared at the older Saiyan, eyes wide and mouth still open.
Trunks greeted her with a half-smile and raised eyebrow.
After a few seconds, she collected herself and circled him, continuing her storming.
"See ya, Pan," Goten waved, undeterred by her foul drop in mood.
"Sorry, boys," Videl sighed. "She's at that age." After wiping her hands on the dish towel hanging from her back pocket, she said, "Hey, Goten, you're still young and cool. Maybe she'd listen if something constructive came from you?"
Goten laughed at the notion.
"Pan has never thought I was cool a day in her life," he said. "But maybe you should get Trunks to talk to her instead. Underneath all that pubescent rage, I'm pretty sure someone is harbouring a bit of a crush."
From the dining table, Goten tapped at his laptop, still hoping to finish off his report while drowning out the occasional crunch from his left as a sloth-like teenager sat on his couch in an oversized sweater and old joggers. She was eating his cereal and flicking through the TV he never seemed to use.
"Don't you have some other sucker's cupboard you can raid on a Thursday night?" he said, keeping his eyes on the screen in front of him.
"Nope," she replied with a mouth full of Cheerios, causing milk to dribble down her chin.
"Really? Not even at a massive mansion in central West City?"
Her gaze remained on the flashing frames ahead, intermittently casting her face artificial shades of pink and yellow. "No idea what you're talking about."
On further inspection, he saw she'd been watching old cartoons.
Of course she is.
Somehow, this had become the new normal. The Monday after their impromptu brunch, he returned from work to a uniform-clad CC heiress outside his apartment building waiting to be let in. The same thing happened the next evening, and two nights after that. Eventually, he decided to tell her about the spare key he kept behind a rusted iron panel on the roof and from that night on, he was regularly welcomed by the sight of a doodling, and often dozing, teen on his sofa. She helped herself to his fridge and reprogrammed his remote so all her favourite channels were a single click away.
Shutting his laptop, Goten extended his arms to the ceiling in a stretch and headed for the bathroom.
As he stepped into the passage, Goten paused when he realised she'd left the light on in his spare room again and crossed the hallway to turn it off, noting her school shirt draped over the corner of the single bed as he flicked the switch.
I can almost guarantee that will still be there in the morning.
When he returned to the living area, Bulla was kneeling on the floor with an assortment of colourful stationery and exercise books spread messily across his coffee table.
"What are you working on?" he asked, lowering down to join her.
"Calculus," she said into her textbook with a frown.
He picked up one of her pencils and began tapping it against an open page. Despite his brother being the clear academic between the two of them, Pan still seemed to prefer coming to her Uncle Goten for homework help when she had the chance - a small pleasure he'd never expected cherish. "Write down the problem for me, we can work on it together."
Bulla rooted around her backpack and pulled out a crumpled bag of potato chips, offering them to the older Saiyan as the two dug into her school work.
Why do you keep coming around? he silently asked yet again, the question returning as he watched her read out the next problem. Goten nodded along, feigning attention each time she gazed up at him, but continued to wonder. It was hard to pose the question without putting her on the back foot however, and the few times he attempted to bring up anything personal, something as simple as her family, she closed right up, staring ahead as though she hadn't even heard him or swiftly changing the subject.
"Any ideas?" she said, pulling him back to their current task. Bulla looked up from her text book, expectant, while Goten stared back, completely blank.
They remained like this for a few empty seconds before the faint smile that was always quietly present when she spoke started to slip.
"Uh…" He faltered. "Let's take a five minute break." Goten pressed into his fists, shifting back to the couch behind them. Bulla followed, though more stiffly.
She reached for her half-eaten bowl of cereal and returned to her vacant cartoon watching.
"Pan always liked this one too," Goten said, pointing at the screen while he leaned his head to his fist, elbow bent along the back of the couch. "What's it called again?"
She didn't answer, and going by the way she was ignoring him right now, he couldn't be sure she'd even heard him.
After a few seconds he opened his mouth to speak again but she interrupted him.
"Do you think she's still out there?" Bulla said. "Somewhere."
Goten turned to look at her. "Of course she is," he said. "No one on earth could possibly hurt her." Bulla met his gaze and, to his surprise, she appeared doubtful. "We couldn't find her because she doesn't want to be found," he added more quietly. "And trust me, we looked. Your family and mine."
Memories he'd rather not revisit began to trickle through mental cracks. He and Trunks laboured for weeks searching for her, scouring every island, forest and sand dune they crossed. When Gohan finally got ahold of him, insisting they call it off, Goten's fingers were raw, his voice was hoarse, and he could no longer feel his limbs.
"What if she left earth?"
He readjusted, slouching further into the seat. "Your mom would be all over it in that case," he said. "No one is as capable of watching the planet's air space as Capsule Corp."
Bulla gave a small nod then asked, "Do you miss her?"
Goten went quiet, his ears beginning to ring.
"Would you miss me if I disappeared too?" she added when he didn't answer her.
He leaned away, narrowing his eyes at her. "Don't say stuff like that."
Bulla kept eating her cereal.
"I'm serious," he said. "And don't even think about putting your family through that, alright?"
She went quiet again before responding. "Why do you think she did it?"
Goten let out a sigh. Naturally, he'd asked himself the same question at least a thousand times before but no matter how he teased it apart, he could never reach a satisfying answer. She'd been frustrated, sure, but she was a good kid, and from a family who adored her. It was hard not to take it personally sometimes.
"I only have my suspicions," he said.
When he reached for the remote that had been sitting on the arm rest next to her, his elbow brushed over her sweater, causing her to flinch.
"Sorry," he said before continuing. "Something I can't help but come back to is how badly my dad's death hit her."
Her eyes weren't on the TV anymore. She was staring at the wall beneath, perhaps considering what he was saying.
"Even if we still had the dragon balls, there was no bringing him back and she took that harder than any of us." Goten dropped the volume so it was only a few clicks above mute. "Soon after, she started acting out. Sneaking off, breaking things. So much screaming," he exhaled, sinking into the sofa before turning to face Bulla again. "Did she ever say anything to you? Something that, in hindsight, could have been a clue that she was thinking about running away?"
Bulla shook her head slowly, still staring at the floor. The echoing pangs left by his niece had him mulling the halfling in front of him - another young girl full of promise clearly guarding her own secrets.
"Can I ask you something?" he said, twisting in his seat to observe her more carefully. Her only reaction was to glance at him out of the corner of her eye, as though she were a grazing gazelle on high alert for approaching predators.
Goten changed his mind when he realised her eyes were beginning to well, then streak red. Bulla remained silent and if he hadn't been sitting so close to her, he would easily have missed the tremble of her lip, followed by a clench in her jaw so strong the muscle running past her temple visibly tensed.
"Bulla, what's wrong?" he said, taking her bowl from her lap and resting it on her text book.
When he returned to her, hand resting on the couch's spine, he wasn't sure what to do. Whenever Pan got upset, her preferred next move was finding the nearest door to exit through and slam, but Bulla just sat there, idle, like a lamb.
He reached for her shoulder but she dodged him and bee-lined for the bathroom, locking herself inside.
Goten leaned the back of his head to the sofa with a sigh. He was painfully out of his element when it came to teenage girls, even when he had been thirteen years younger and desperately trying to date them.
It's a delicate age, he reminded himself, a dusty door in his mental attic creaking open after more than half a decade of disuse. And she's not her brother.