disclaimer: i own nothing but the nail polish on my toes (it's silver!)
a/n: i do believe this is the first time i've ever gotten writer's block while trying to write an author's note. well, here's the last chapter (done by yours truly. *grins* just like I promised), and here's a warning to you all: the ending is sad. yes, i know, i am a horrible, horrible person. and happy endings are fantastic, but this particular ending was just screaming to be used.
but John wanted to take the fic way farther than i could (you see, starting fics, I can do. but following it through . . . that's another story), and he had this *awesome* idea (lol, as usual), so we decided to make it into a sequel to be posted on his site. Check it out after you finish this one! (pen name: John Perry). yes, we all love him. w00t!
so now, without further ado- i give you the final chapter.
======================================
Pain.
The first thing to register in his mind was an intense and agonizing pain. Fragments of nonsensical thoughts roamed freely though his muddled head, none of them staying still long enough to be of any use. Trunks struggled to gather his bearings, but failed miserably as his body refused to take orders from his brain. Lying on the ground with his eyes still closed he was near ready to give up and call it a day, when suddenly an explosion sounded nearby, rocking the ground with its severity and snapping Trunks out of his stunned state.
A battle.
That's it, he was fighting a battle. And if the pain was any indication, he wasn't quite dead yet. (As to whether this was a good or a bad thing, his current condition would not allow him to say) The last thing the Briefs boy remembered was closing his eyes and waiting for the ki blast to hit, and then . . . nothing.
No, that wasn't quite right- moments before he blacked out, something had crashed into him from the side. But that made no sense. The man had been right in front of him when he released his attack. Trunks was in no shape to dodge it, and his enemy knew it; there would be no reason to change the direction of the blast at the last minute.
Another thing that didn't seem right was the fact that he felt like a brick wall had collided with his body. It didn't have the searing, electrical force that all ki blasts had, regardless of who or what had launched it.
So what the hell was going on?
Slowly Trunks cracked open his eyes, blinking several times to get rid of the haziness. He could just barely make out two figures in the distance, exchanging blows and ki blasts, one of which nearly missed the prone figure lying on the ground. Quickly he half-rolled, half-stumbled out of the way, somehow ending up more or less on his feet.
The fighter opposite of the nameless man was more than holding his own, and Trunks watched in awe as the two engaged in their deadly dance. Whoever, this mystery person was, they were certainly not human.
He was too far away to see either of them very clearly, but something about the other man seemed very familiar. Even in his severely weakened state, he could still faintly sense ki, and there was definitely something unusual about this mystery fighter's life energy. But at the same time it was comforting, like it had always been there during his battles . . .
His eyes widened. Dirty, cracked, and bleeding lips parted and whispered a single word. "Papa . . ."
The painful hope in his voice made him sound horribly vulnerable, as if he were a little kid again and his father had just promised to take him to the park.
No, it wasn't possible. Vegeta was dead! He had seen him with his own eyes, floating lifeless in his mother's lab. How could . . . how could he be here, fighting that nameless man? How could he have arrived seconds before Trunks was about to be blasted into oblivion, just in time to push him out of the way and save his life? This was all insane.
But it was real, and he wasn't about to argue with that. His father was back.
Overcome with happiness and relief he collapsed to his knees, unable to stand upright under the overwhelming current of emotions running through him.
Meanwhile the two combatants continued their aerial battle, completely oblivious to the teenager below them. Vegeta cursed under his breath as he narrowly escaped another blow, launching a hasty ki blast that was easily deflected. He was in much better shape and much more disciplined than his son, true, but even in his super saiyan form he was having a hard time keeping this man at bay.
His son- since when had he had a son? He had always been Vegeta, prince of all saiyans, and that was it. So where had all these memories come from? This strange feeling of affection that felt to foreign to him? Try as he might he couldn't remember or feel anything else, except to protect the purple-haired boy and his mother.
His mother, that would mean . . . she was his wife? None of this many any sense!
As these confused thoughts jumbled through his head, Vegeta had a hard time of concentrating on the current threat. However, the saiyan prince did notice something- although the man was incredibly powerful, his assaults were wide open. There seemed to be very little defense: just enough to dodge or deflect any attacks. If he could only get him distracted enough to power up his finishing move . . .
He chanced a quick glance down at his son, relieved to see that he was alive. Maybe Trunks could grab the man's attention long enough . . . no, he was already aware of Vegeta's presence. He would immediately sense it was a set-up. On the other hand, perhaps this villain didn't know that his previous opponent was still alive. He had no idea how resilient saiyans were, after all. Carefully aiming, he released a reasonably weak exertion of ki of hoped that Trunks would take the hint.
The man laughed, bringing a lull to their fighting as he drifted a few feet away.
"Is that all you can do, your highness?" he mocked, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes. "And I expected so much more from royalty. Ah well, like they say . . . like father like son. No wonder that boy was such a weakling. With your pathetic fighting skills, what could one expect?"
Down below Trunks yelped, being knocked to the ground once again. He snapped his head up in the direction of the blast just in time to see his father retract his hand. He could almost hear the annoyed gravelly voice in his head- "What're you doing, brat?? Do you expect me to fight your battle while you sit there like an idiot?! Get up!"
He shook his head. What WAS he doing?! He should be up there, beating that man into a bloody pulp. But the sad reality was that he was too weak to even fly, much less do any beating. Almost absent-mindedly he stuck his fingers into a tear in his pants, when they brushed again something small and hard. Curiously, he pinched it between his thumb and index finger and drew it out, bringing it in front of his face to inspect. It was a sensu bean.
Of course! He had slipped one into his pocket before he had taken off on pursuit of the dragonballs, in case any trouble popped up along the way. Trunks was surprised that he still had enough presence of mind to think ahead, with the nearly comatose condition he had been in.
But this was no time to muse over his good luck. With shaking hands he brought the sensu up to his mouth and slipped it in, ignoring his aching jaws as he slowly chewed and swallowed. Almost immediately he could feel the healing powers of the miracle bean going to work on restoring his health and power. In a minute or so all his wounds were healed, and several minutes more brought back his full power.
Yet strangely enough, through the whole process the nameless man had not once paid any attention to him. Only a fool would turn their back on an opponent unless they were certain he or she was dead, and this man was no fool. He was evil, but not stupid. That could only mean he had underestimated Vegeta's speed, and thought that his blast and hit and killed Trunks.
The young man smirked, his handsome but severe face becoming a mirror or his proud father. This new enemy had underestimated both of them, and that would be his undoing.
"I will not let you down again, father." With that vow he took to the air, where the two men appeared to be . . . talking. Trunks silently came up behind the foe, keeping his ki suppressed so as not to be detected. He maintained a fair amount of distance, but got close enough to hear what they were saying.
". . . do a little research on all the planets I plan to conquer. Earth was an intriguing one, I must admit . . . inhabited by weaklings, but protected by saiyans. So I looked up some of your planet's history, but right after I got past the bad haircuts, I found out something very . . . well, unexpected." A smirk.
"Fool," Vegeta spat out, irritated at the ambiguous statement. "What are you talking about?"
"I think you know perfectly well. Your *mate* really was a genius." Disconcerting eyes briefly sweeped over the prince before returning to the shorter man's angry glare.
"Excellent craftsmanship."
Trunks' brow wrinkled in confusion- what in the name of everything holy was that man talking about?! But he pushed all questions out of his mind, chalking it all up to the fact that the man must be insane, and slowly began powering up his attack.
"I don't know what nonsense this is, and I don't care," came the scornful reply, as Vegeta crossed his arms in his classic stance. "You have been foolish . . . spending all this time talking when you could have attacked. You will not get that chance again."
Trunks was hesitant of powering up all the way lest he be detected, but by now he was pretty sure that this nameless man, though more powerful than him, did not possess his ability to sense ki. With that reassurance, he drifted a little farther away and let the sparks begin to fly.
Laughter rang out across the devastated land, but it was utterly devoid of any humor.
"You had the same chance that I did, and I see you've made the same mistake. So tell me, Vegeta . . . why are we still talking? Why don't you just kill me?"
Sliding his hands in feet into position, the still un-detected boy got ready to launch his attack. But he knew it was not time yet . . . just a little bit longer . . .
"It is not my honor to do so- this is my son's battle, not mine." Then a smug expression slid over his face as he glanced past the body in front of him, and fathomless black eyes met startlingly blue ones. It may have not even lasted for half a second, but it was enough.
"Your son is . . ." Before he could finish, a deafening shout and brilliant white light hit him, surrounding him in a ball of agonizing pain.
"FINAL FLASH!"
Vegeta quickly dropped down to avoid the blast, and watched as Trunks launched his finishing attack. He vaguely wondered why he had chosen that one instead of his own finish buster or burning attack, but realized there was a certain pride to watching his only son defeat an opponent using his, Vegeta's, patented attack. Smirking deeply, he walked over to where the body had fallen, almost bunt to a crisp.
Pain.
But this time it was the nameless man who lay on the ground. White boots coated in grime and blood approached him, taking their time as they walked right up to the prone figure. One lifted and came to rest on his battered chest, pushing down until there was a snapping sound.
The man cried out, coughing up blood as he did so. Another snap, and another, before finally . . .
"Stop."
The voice was so weak that Vegeta probably would not have heard it, had it not been for his acute hearing. He lifted his foot off and kneeled down, facing the dying man.
"You made a big mistake coming here . . . and an even bigger mistake attacking Trunks."
Confusion crossed the nameless man's face and he attempted to talk, having to spit out some more blood and several teeth before he could do so.
"I don't understand . . ." he said faintly. "You're not real. How can you feel so strongly for that boy?"
All the memories he had been assaulted with earlier were faded now, and he could barely recall most of them. However, the image of the tiny baby nestled in his arms still stuck out in his mind, and with it the feeling of protectiveness- and had his pride not been so all encompassing, he would have realized- love.
"Brainless fool," he snarled, reaching down to grab the man's head with his gloved hands. "You have tried to kill my son. And for that, I will kill you." With a quick jerking motion and a loud crack, the man's mouth went slack and his eyes glazed over. Nameless and lifeless. But that was what he got for messing with Trunks Briefs.
For awhile Vegeta stared at the limp body, a wave of confusion crashing over him as he let go of the head watched it thud on the ground. Suddenly everything seemed hazy- he couldn't remember why he was out here. Or why he had killed that man.
It was strange. He remembered the feeling of rage that had sparked in him when he began fighting, and the feeling of intense pride and . . . something else, as he watched the man fall from the sky. But the moment the saiyan prince had snapped his neck, it felt like everything had simply got up and left, leaving only faint trails in their wake.
"Papa!"
Vegeta turned his head toward the sound, not responding to it as much as seeing who else was there. That purple-haired boy was running toward him, seeming almost delirious with joy and relief. The boy! That was who he was fighting for . . .but . . .
He was nearly toppled over as Trunks fell to the ground and threw his arms around him in a fierce embrace, tears rapidly trailing down his cheeks as he buried his face in his father's shoulder.
"Oh god . . . Papa . . . I thought I'd n-never see you again . . . when he attacked, and caught me off guard . . . I know I should've trained, but it was so hard without . . . without you there to train me, and I . . . I wasn't any match for him, and I thought I was going to die as a disappointment to you and mom, but then you showed up . . . you saved me, like you always do . . . please, don't leave . . . don't ever leave again, please . . . Papa, stay . . . I'll train and become stronger and make you proud of me, just don't leave again . . .please . . ."
Vegeta's face remained stoic. Who was this boy? Whatever memories he may have had of the sobbing youth, they were completely gone now. Even the traces had vanished.
"Papa . . .?"
Hesitantly Trunks lifted his head to look at his father, concerned about his silence. The shorter man had never been one to easily show his emotions, but this was strange even for him.
"What's wrong?"
The blue-haired woman! Vegeta remembered now- the blue haired woman had asked him to help her son fight the threat to earth. *That* was who the boy was. Looking down at the still body he saw that he had completed his task, and abruptly stood up. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, exactly, but that woman just might . . . His ki abruptly flared and he was about to take to the sky, when he felt a hand grab his arm.
"Where . . . where are you going? Papa, what's going on?"
Now Trunks knew that something was wrong. Why wouldn't his father talk to him? Or even look at him? How could he just up and leave, after all that had happened?
"Why won't you say anything?" he demanded frantically, gripping his arm harder out of sheer panic. "Papa, look at me! PLEASE!"
Obligingly Vegeta turned his head, until he was fully facing the boy latched onto his arm. He was freed at Trunks inhaled sharply, his hand going limp and falling to his side.
There was nothing.
His father was staring straight at him and acknowledging his presence, yet there was no sign of love, pride, or even recognition on his face. It was as if he were regarding a complete stranger.
"papa . . .?"
Vegeta simply turned away and leapt into the sky.
Fin.
a/n: i do believe this is the first time i've ever gotten writer's block while trying to write an author's note. well, here's the last chapter (done by yours truly. *grins* just like I promised), and here's a warning to you all: the ending is sad. yes, i know, i am a horrible, horrible person. and happy endings are fantastic, but this particular ending was just screaming to be used.
but John wanted to take the fic way farther than i could (you see, starting fics, I can do. but following it through . . . that's another story), and he had this *awesome* idea (lol, as usual), so we decided to make it into a sequel to be posted on his site. Check it out after you finish this one! (pen name: John Perry). yes, we all love him. w00t!
so now, without further ado- i give you the final chapter.
======================================
Pain.
The first thing to register in his mind was an intense and agonizing pain. Fragments of nonsensical thoughts roamed freely though his muddled head, none of them staying still long enough to be of any use. Trunks struggled to gather his bearings, but failed miserably as his body refused to take orders from his brain. Lying on the ground with his eyes still closed he was near ready to give up and call it a day, when suddenly an explosion sounded nearby, rocking the ground with its severity and snapping Trunks out of his stunned state.
A battle.
That's it, he was fighting a battle. And if the pain was any indication, he wasn't quite dead yet. (As to whether this was a good or a bad thing, his current condition would not allow him to say) The last thing the Briefs boy remembered was closing his eyes and waiting for the ki blast to hit, and then . . . nothing.
No, that wasn't quite right- moments before he blacked out, something had crashed into him from the side. But that made no sense. The man had been right in front of him when he released his attack. Trunks was in no shape to dodge it, and his enemy knew it; there would be no reason to change the direction of the blast at the last minute.
Another thing that didn't seem right was the fact that he felt like a brick wall had collided with his body. It didn't have the searing, electrical force that all ki blasts had, regardless of who or what had launched it.
So what the hell was going on?
Slowly Trunks cracked open his eyes, blinking several times to get rid of the haziness. He could just barely make out two figures in the distance, exchanging blows and ki blasts, one of which nearly missed the prone figure lying on the ground. Quickly he half-rolled, half-stumbled out of the way, somehow ending up more or less on his feet.
The fighter opposite of the nameless man was more than holding his own, and Trunks watched in awe as the two engaged in their deadly dance. Whoever, this mystery person was, they were certainly not human.
He was too far away to see either of them very clearly, but something about the other man seemed very familiar. Even in his severely weakened state, he could still faintly sense ki, and there was definitely something unusual about this mystery fighter's life energy. But at the same time it was comforting, like it had always been there during his battles . . .
His eyes widened. Dirty, cracked, and bleeding lips parted and whispered a single word. "Papa . . ."
The painful hope in his voice made him sound horribly vulnerable, as if he were a little kid again and his father had just promised to take him to the park.
No, it wasn't possible. Vegeta was dead! He had seen him with his own eyes, floating lifeless in his mother's lab. How could . . . how could he be here, fighting that nameless man? How could he have arrived seconds before Trunks was about to be blasted into oblivion, just in time to push him out of the way and save his life? This was all insane.
But it was real, and he wasn't about to argue with that. His father was back.
Overcome with happiness and relief he collapsed to his knees, unable to stand upright under the overwhelming current of emotions running through him.
Meanwhile the two combatants continued their aerial battle, completely oblivious to the teenager below them. Vegeta cursed under his breath as he narrowly escaped another blow, launching a hasty ki blast that was easily deflected. He was in much better shape and much more disciplined than his son, true, but even in his super saiyan form he was having a hard time keeping this man at bay.
His son- since when had he had a son? He had always been Vegeta, prince of all saiyans, and that was it. So where had all these memories come from? This strange feeling of affection that felt to foreign to him? Try as he might he couldn't remember or feel anything else, except to protect the purple-haired boy and his mother.
His mother, that would mean . . . she was his wife? None of this many any sense!
As these confused thoughts jumbled through his head, Vegeta had a hard time of concentrating on the current threat. However, the saiyan prince did notice something- although the man was incredibly powerful, his assaults were wide open. There seemed to be very little defense: just enough to dodge or deflect any attacks. If he could only get him distracted enough to power up his finishing move . . .
He chanced a quick glance down at his son, relieved to see that he was alive. Maybe Trunks could grab the man's attention long enough . . . no, he was already aware of Vegeta's presence. He would immediately sense it was a set-up. On the other hand, perhaps this villain didn't know that his previous opponent was still alive. He had no idea how resilient saiyans were, after all. Carefully aiming, he released a reasonably weak exertion of ki of hoped that Trunks would take the hint.
The man laughed, bringing a lull to their fighting as he drifted a few feet away.
"Is that all you can do, your highness?" he mocked, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes. "And I expected so much more from royalty. Ah well, like they say . . . like father like son. No wonder that boy was such a weakling. With your pathetic fighting skills, what could one expect?"
Down below Trunks yelped, being knocked to the ground once again. He snapped his head up in the direction of the blast just in time to see his father retract his hand. He could almost hear the annoyed gravelly voice in his head- "What're you doing, brat?? Do you expect me to fight your battle while you sit there like an idiot?! Get up!"
He shook his head. What WAS he doing?! He should be up there, beating that man into a bloody pulp. But the sad reality was that he was too weak to even fly, much less do any beating. Almost absent-mindedly he stuck his fingers into a tear in his pants, when they brushed again something small and hard. Curiously, he pinched it between his thumb and index finger and drew it out, bringing it in front of his face to inspect. It was a sensu bean.
Of course! He had slipped one into his pocket before he had taken off on pursuit of the dragonballs, in case any trouble popped up along the way. Trunks was surprised that he still had enough presence of mind to think ahead, with the nearly comatose condition he had been in.
But this was no time to muse over his good luck. With shaking hands he brought the sensu up to his mouth and slipped it in, ignoring his aching jaws as he slowly chewed and swallowed. Almost immediately he could feel the healing powers of the miracle bean going to work on restoring his health and power. In a minute or so all his wounds were healed, and several minutes more brought back his full power.
Yet strangely enough, through the whole process the nameless man had not once paid any attention to him. Only a fool would turn their back on an opponent unless they were certain he or she was dead, and this man was no fool. He was evil, but not stupid. That could only mean he had underestimated Vegeta's speed, and thought that his blast and hit and killed Trunks.
The young man smirked, his handsome but severe face becoming a mirror or his proud father. This new enemy had underestimated both of them, and that would be his undoing.
"I will not let you down again, father." With that vow he took to the air, where the two men appeared to be . . . talking. Trunks silently came up behind the foe, keeping his ki suppressed so as not to be detected. He maintained a fair amount of distance, but got close enough to hear what they were saying.
". . . do a little research on all the planets I plan to conquer. Earth was an intriguing one, I must admit . . . inhabited by weaklings, but protected by saiyans. So I looked up some of your planet's history, but right after I got past the bad haircuts, I found out something very . . . well, unexpected." A smirk.
"Fool," Vegeta spat out, irritated at the ambiguous statement. "What are you talking about?"
"I think you know perfectly well. Your *mate* really was a genius." Disconcerting eyes briefly sweeped over the prince before returning to the shorter man's angry glare.
"Excellent craftsmanship."
Trunks' brow wrinkled in confusion- what in the name of everything holy was that man talking about?! But he pushed all questions out of his mind, chalking it all up to the fact that the man must be insane, and slowly began powering up his attack.
"I don't know what nonsense this is, and I don't care," came the scornful reply, as Vegeta crossed his arms in his classic stance. "You have been foolish . . . spending all this time talking when you could have attacked. You will not get that chance again."
Trunks was hesitant of powering up all the way lest he be detected, but by now he was pretty sure that this nameless man, though more powerful than him, did not possess his ability to sense ki. With that reassurance, he drifted a little farther away and let the sparks begin to fly.
Laughter rang out across the devastated land, but it was utterly devoid of any humor.
"You had the same chance that I did, and I see you've made the same mistake. So tell me, Vegeta . . . why are we still talking? Why don't you just kill me?"
Sliding his hands in feet into position, the still un-detected boy got ready to launch his attack. But he knew it was not time yet . . . just a little bit longer . . .
"It is not my honor to do so- this is my son's battle, not mine." Then a smug expression slid over his face as he glanced past the body in front of him, and fathomless black eyes met startlingly blue ones. It may have not even lasted for half a second, but it was enough.
"Your son is . . ." Before he could finish, a deafening shout and brilliant white light hit him, surrounding him in a ball of agonizing pain.
"FINAL FLASH!"
Vegeta quickly dropped down to avoid the blast, and watched as Trunks launched his finishing attack. He vaguely wondered why he had chosen that one instead of his own finish buster or burning attack, but realized there was a certain pride to watching his only son defeat an opponent using his, Vegeta's, patented attack. Smirking deeply, he walked over to where the body had fallen, almost bunt to a crisp.
Pain.
But this time it was the nameless man who lay on the ground. White boots coated in grime and blood approached him, taking their time as they walked right up to the prone figure. One lifted and came to rest on his battered chest, pushing down until there was a snapping sound.
The man cried out, coughing up blood as he did so. Another snap, and another, before finally . . .
"Stop."
The voice was so weak that Vegeta probably would not have heard it, had it not been for his acute hearing. He lifted his foot off and kneeled down, facing the dying man.
"You made a big mistake coming here . . . and an even bigger mistake attacking Trunks."
Confusion crossed the nameless man's face and he attempted to talk, having to spit out some more blood and several teeth before he could do so.
"I don't understand . . ." he said faintly. "You're not real. How can you feel so strongly for that boy?"
All the memories he had been assaulted with earlier were faded now, and he could barely recall most of them. However, the image of the tiny baby nestled in his arms still stuck out in his mind, and with it the feeling of protectiveness- and had his pride not been so all encompassing, he would have realized- love.
"Brainless fool," he snarled, reaching down to grab the man's head with his gloved hands. "You have tried to kill my son. And for that, I will kill you." With a quick jerking motion and a loud crack, the man's mouth went slack and his eyes glazed over. Nameless and lifeless. But that was what he got for messing with Trunks Briefs.
For awhile Vegeta stared at the limp body, a wave of confusion crashing over him as he let go of the head watched it thud on the ground. Suddenly everything seemed hazy- he couldn't remember why he was out here. Or why he had killed that man.
It was strange. He remembered the feeling of rage that had sparked in him when he began fighting, and the feeling of intense pride and . . . something else, as he watched the man fall from the sky. But the moment the saiyan prince had snapped his neck, it felt like everything had simply got up and left, leaving only faint trails in their wake.
"Papa!"
Vegeta turned his head toward the sound, not responding to it as much as seeing who else was there. That purple-haired boy was running toward him, seeming almost delirious with joy and relief. The boy! That was who he was fighting for . . .but . . .
He was nearly toppled over as Trunks fell to the ground and threw his arms around him in a fierce embrace, tears rapidly trailing down his cheeks as he buried his face in his father's shoulder.
"Oh god . . . Papa . . . I thought I'd n-never see you again . . . when he attacked, and caught me off guard . . . I know I should've trained, but it was so hard without . . . without you there to train me, and I . . . I wasn't any match for him, and I thought I was going to die as a disappointment to you and mom, but then you showed up . . . you saved me, like you always do . . . please, don't leave . . . don't ever leave again, please . . . Papa, stay . . . I'll train and become stronger and make you proud of me, just don't leave again . . .please . . ."
Vegeta's face remained stoic. Who was this boy? Whatever memories he may have had of the sobbing youth, they were completely gone now. Even the traces had vanished.
"Papa . . .?"
Hesitantly Trunks lifted his head to look at his father, concerned about his silence. The shorter man had never been one to easily show his emotions, but this was strange even for him.
"What's wrong?"
The blue-haired woman! Vegeta remembered now- the blue haired woman had asked him to help her son fight the threat to earth. *That* was who the boy was. Looking down at the still body he saw that he had completed his task, and abruptly stood up. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, exactly, but that woman just might . . . His ki abruptly flared and he was about to take to the sky, when he felt a hand grab his arm.
"Where . . . where are you going? Papa, what's going on?"
Now Trunks knew that something was wrong. Why wouldn't his father talk to him? Or even look at him? How could he just up and leave, after all that had happened?
"Why won't you say anything?" he demanded frantically, gripping his arm harder out of sheer panic. "Papa, look at me! PLEASE!"
Obligingly Vegeta turned his head, until he was fully facing the boy latched onto his arm. He was freed at Trunks inhaled sharply, his hand going limp and falling to his side.
There was nothing.
His father was staring straight at him and acknowledging his presence, yet there was no sign of love, pride, or even recognition on his face. It was as if he were regarding a complete stranger.
"papa . . .?"
Vegeta simply turned away and leapt into the sky.
Fin.