Author: Gold Cherries

Rating: M

Arc: Trunks

oOoOo

So planet Vegeta-sei had some messed up rules on edicate.

Trunks scowled as he sat back in the stone bath. First you had to have a shower then a bath after training. This was such a waste of time he thought with a groan. He wanted to work on some inventions now,

His gaze flicked up as the door opened his Father walked in, some things in his arms. He ducked down in the bath huffing, "Sheesh can't I get any privacy you're always here." He complained. It wasn't that he minded seeing his Dad…not really, although when he thought too much about him his head would ache, but his Dad had no shame.

"Be appreciative you have no idea how expensive my time is." Vegeta snapped putting down some plain black and red clothing.

"Right…" Trunks sighed. "Can I get out now?"

"No another half an hour, the minerals will help you heal faster, then you have class-"

"Class? For what? I'm actually kinda smart Dad."

"Thankfully but you have class. I have arranged a good teacher for you. You'll learn about Saiyan culture, politics, how to run a squad."

Trunks's gaze narrowed, he didn't want to learn under some fancy teacher. "What for? Can't you teach me that?"

"What did I say about my time being expensive? I have other people to be concerned with than just you."

"Like your own squad? You said you were a warrior right? Do you know Prince Vegeta?"

His Dad groaned, it was a long suffering one. "Shut up, there is no discussions on your care, you'll do as you're told." The Saiyan left.

Trunks sat in the deep bath, lips tilted down, His day was getting suckier by the minute. He'd die listening to rambling idiots, he could read books and learn faster than listening to teachers.

Sitting like this he had no choice but to think, his head dropping back as he categorised all he knew about his father. He was a warrior, rich, influential, he was keeping secrets, which made little sense unless he was embarrassed about who he was, but he didn't seem ashamed at all.

It made no sense.

To be truthful though, he kinda liked his Dad, he was just like his Mum had always described him. Just…not the saiyan part. He didn't want to be saiyan, on this planet at all. They were nice in their own way Goku and his Dad anyway but it was a delusion, they were still heading out murdering people and he now might not see his mum for a year.

Now he felt sick. Trunks' eyes burnt, deciding he needed to distract himself, he pushed himself up from the inbuilt deep stone bathing area and stepped up the submerged steps to collect one of the towels his Dad had left to dry himself,

Soon enough dressed, but tears would randomly escape, studying the white band on his wrist, He missed Mum.

"Trunks what did I tell you. Get your arse back in there." The angry voice heard from the other side of the wall, Trunks frozen when his Dad barged in.

The saiyan drew to a stop, Vegeta's fury grew looking at him, "What are you whimpering for?"

"U-Um nothing." His words thick as he rubbed at his eyes, "Sorry was hungry."

"Did the bath upset you?" His father was suddenly right before him.

"No."

"Clothes?"

He shook his head, not used to someone being so flat out demanding. This was embarrassing.

"So why the hell are you sooking like some weakling? Tell me."

He couldn't help it Trunks overwhelmed by the verbal attack and the tears increased tenfold, jumping when hands grasped his shoulders. "I can't fix anything unless you explain yourself." His dad's words deeper now, tinged with irritation.

"J-Just Mum," He got out.

Vegeta swore for a couple of minutes actually, while he battled to calm down before being pulled out of the bathroom to the table. "Eat and have your nap. You can go study then."

Trunks nodded, his head a bit dull from the crying. "You're too big to cry for your mother now. Not when you have one of your parents understand." He glanced up to his father who was watching him closely. "You need only one parent I will have to spend excessive time with you thanks to my mate's fetish of space travel, but you will be fine. You do not need to whimper every time you think of your mother.

Great now his Dad thought he was a loser. He stayed silent chin rested in his palm attempting to blink back his tears as he focused on eating. "Sorry." He apologised eventually, but he didn't look at his Father.

Mouthful after mouthful he ate, thinking about the food he was eating, avoiding the thoughts haunting the back of his mind on his Father's opinion or how far away his Mother was. After two bowls he stopped, toying with the fork. "Dad?"

"What is it?"

"Could I do some engineer study?"

"Tch inventions, you're just like your Mother."

"Guess." Trunks said, eyes locked on the fork in his hand. "I invent most days, it's fun."

"No."

"But Dad-"

"What did I say about discussions? You'll sleep, then class."

Trunks remained silent, eyes having slanted a touch. Saiyans were jerks. He let the utensil go, it hit the table with a clink. He stood.

"What are you doing brat?"

"Going to bed." Trunks stalked to the dark sheeted extravagant object to dump himself down on it staring up to the ceiling above.

He listened to his Father mutter something under his breath, the saiyan shifted about the room, cleaning up by the sounds, then dragged shut the tall wall length curtains, drowning the room in black.

Booted feet stopped by the bed, Trunks refusing to look his Dad's way. It was a slight mistake on his part though as hands grasped his hips and he was jerked around so laying vertical in bed, blankets yanked out from under him to be pulled over top. His father biting the tip of his nose, "Stop sulking and enjoy your rest, you fought well today." The words low.

"Yeah. Ok." He agreed, knowing he was probably scarlet, relieved it was dark. His father withdrew and he heard him exit the room, the shut door echoing in the empty space. He rubbed his face, rolling onto his side, man he so wasn't used to being babied. Why were such a violent race so over the top with their kids? His mum would only panic if he was literally on fire or something.

oOoOo

Mm so bright, Trunks shifted pulling a pillow over his head.

There was a chuckle, "Up brat you've slept three hours."

"Tired." He mumbled, brow furrowing when a hand rubbed up and down his back. What the hell? He jerked upright, disorientated. "Wha…oh." He said tone flat. Mind clicked to where he was, lips tilted down.

His father scowled at him and promptly flicked him hard in the head.

"Ow! Fuck Dad." Not getting time to complain any more as he was jerked up to his feet, black clothes pegged at his chest.

"Change now, else your tutor will enter while you're dressing."

His gaze darted to the door then in a split moment was stripping to drag on the clothing in question. A little uncomfortable afterwards, dressed in a dark shirt and what appeared loose pajama bottoms. He raked his fingers through his hair, "Who's my tutor?"

"Turles! Get in here." The door was thrown open, a warrior walked in, he was covered with scars, dressed in armour. He looked like any other saiyan that murdered people.

He grimaced, folding his arms.

Turles stared.

"What?" Trunks asked, his tail whipped around behind him.

"This is your son P-"

The man gasped, Trunks open mouthed as his father socked the tutor hard in the gut, sending him coughing to his knees.

"You will remember your place with how you address this family, do you understand?"

"Yes Master," Turles said, "S-So your son?"

"Yes this is Trunks."

"It doesn't make sense, Trunks?"

"Want me to repeat myself."

"No, his name is Trunks, evening Master Trunks, I'm Turles, your tutor for now. I regularly Captain the warships and train saiyans young and old."

He made a face, the man sounded worse by the minute. "Can't I just read a book Dad?" He pleaded, trying to smile, like he would for his mother. "I don't need to waste anyone's time."

Vegeta just shoved him and he stumbled forward, "Go listen."

"But I don't like him!" Trunks snapped, "He just kills people, I don't need to listen to know that."

His father studied him then scoffed. "Fulfil your duties brat."

His lips parted, body trembling and his jaw shut with a click looking away.

A minute passed, not a sound in the room and the stranger broke it. "This way Master Trunks."

He shot a dark glare to his watchful Father and stepped after the elder saiyan, arms folded.

Out the door through halls, he gazed around, the building was so old and traditional, his arms having unfolded to reach out, running his fingers along the smooth cold stone. Alien worlds, he'd seen so many, to think this one was his actual heritage. His head would jerk this way and that when noticing people watching him as he travelled past, everyone avoiding his gaze, head lowered.

He'd hear whispers. 'Vegeta….who is that? An alien youth.'

"Does my Dad know the Prince?"

"Yes." The tone was rough.

"Can I see him?"

Turles stepped around a corner, Trunks drew to a stop before them a hollow hall, holes were hewn into the sides of the stone, from a time he could only guess at, the red sky overbearing in the beauty of dark structure.

"No one may see the Royal Prince uninvited." Turles said, a strange expression on his face. "How long have you been on planet?"

"Not long, less than a week. But I really want to talk to the Prince."

The saiyan chuckled, he clasped his shoulder and forced him to walk in front this time. More people were here. Trunks smiling to the wide eyed saiyans a bit perplexed by their reaction to hurry off. "You guys really hate aliens huh?"

"We are tolerant of most alien races. We don't expect to see them in a high class setting. They just see you're young. They're curious. Do not concern yourself."

Hm.

Twenty minutes later he found himself in a red and black room, reminded him of his bedroom, sitting at Turles's wave. Lazing back in the wooden chair he sighed. "So what am I learning?"

"Your heritage Trunks."

He watched the warrior from beneath his lowered lids, so he'd dropped the whole Master title now.

"I know all about Saiyans. Monsters that annihilate the universe. Got it." He grinned giving the alien a thumbs up.

A hand slammed on the table, nearly having him crash over on his swinging chair not expecting the anger in the dark eyes. "Shut your mouth. You might be a spoilt little aristocrat. But I 'will' teach you respect. The saiyan people are strong warriors, proud and defiant in all trials. They hold great honour to the royal family and the royal family sacrifice deeply for their people."

"T-Tch, whatever." He folded his arms, tail curled tight around his knee, aware particularly now of his suppressed energy levels.

The scarred saiyan's face smoothed out and he crouched down so they were staring at one another. "Aristocrats also are held in respect, families like yours work hard to help the royal line. You are one of these people."

His lips pulled back in a sneer, "The saiyans killed my mother's home world. The only reason I'm here is because my Dad found me and I have no way to go home." He lifted his hands up showing the bonds. "I'm a prisoner, even if I did leave, he told me he'd kill more worlds as punishment. I loathe the blood I have. You murder planet after planet and you want me to be proud of being a saiyan? Well I'm not, I'm ashamed and I'm stuck here!"

Dark eyes didn't flinch in his emotional explosion, the saiyan's face held no reaction at all and then he smirked. "Good. Now I understand what the situation is."

"Huh?"

He stood up. "You child will lead legions, will be one of the greatest leaders on the battlefield known in our history. You will forget the past. If you do, you may prevent our people dying like all those worlds you speak of."

"I don't-"

"In fifty years the people here will be as good as dead. You hate your own race, but do you hate it enough to see them die?"

Trunks stuttered, what was he talking about? The saiyans ruled the universe, obliterating everything, he wasn't making sense.

"So shall you let us die?" Turles was smirking at him.

"C-Course I will."

"Oh your father too? The women and brats?"

"Stop it! It's not my problem."

"Wrong. See child, you will have to make a decision and I would hope, if you no longer have your mothers ancestry that you'd desire to protect the other half you have left. You know already what it's like to have that missing. Whatever choice you make, my job is to make you the best, a commander that shall protect whoever is under him."

He was shaking, so many vicious words at the tip of his tongue. But he exhaled, he had no choice. "Whatever, let's get this class over with."

A brow rose and the saiyan walked to a wall to pull out three books and dumped them down before him. "First we much teach you to read our language."

Trunks laughed, "I can read Saiyan."

The tomb was flicked open, Turles gaze burning, "Read."

"The river is fed by the deep waters of the Or, here the tradition of hunting for the clan of Veerd is determined by a battle of strength-"

"Stop." The books were taken away, more placed before here. "If you can read then you shall study these."

"Some teacher." Trunks stretched then plucked up the book, with a sigh he soon placed it down. "I've read this." He leant forward, "And this…and this."

"This one?!" Turles waving one of the fat books around.

"Uh huh, it's about ship manoeuvres. I got it." He tapped the side of his head.

"What type of child are you…?" Turles frowned.

He couldn't help it, he smiled, "A genius earthling, just like my mum." The smile fell, "Dad won't let me work on my inventions though. Wants me to listen to this crap, it's a waste of time."

The commander rolled his eyes, "Your father is taking on your physical training, I'm to take on your leadership training. What don't you know?"

Trunks snickered, "If I don't know, how can I tell you?"

"Fine." Turles gritted the words. "Hows your math?"

"Perfect."

"Strategy?"

"Mother taught me, so I figure it's ok. I've assisted in the war, against you people. Hate me now, I suppose." Why did he care? Some stranger, evil, a saiyan like the others. For some reason though pain had lodged itself in his chest.

A hand ruffled through his hair and the older saiyan pulled away. "Ridiculous, I'm not foolish enough to blame a brat torn away from his own people. Children do the strangest things when tormented. You are home now."

Turles lounged back against the wall, "Instead I will tell you folklore."

"You want to tell me fairy tales…kiddy stuff?"

"Correct, you are to learn your heritage including all you have missed."

Trunks grimaced and placed his chin in his palms. "Let's do this."

oOoOo

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Next time: Trunks is bored