Halfbreed

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"So you wanna go see a movie or something on Thursday? I'm not making a big deal over my birthday, just hang out with you, if you're up for it." Goten sounded troubled as he replied to his friends query, uncertainty lingering at the edges of his answer.

"I don't know Trunks, shouldn't you be with your family then?"

"What're you nuts? I spend every waking moment with them. I need a little time off…" the older boy's voice trailed off, his tone hinting at the heavy depression that he'd endured as of late.

"Well sure, that'd be fine. Anything in particular you want to see?" He asked hesitantly.

"Dammit Goten, I'm not going to go crazy the moment I turn eighteen, ok? Hopefully, I won't go crazy at all! So just bear with me, and don't treat me all different. Nothing's changed."

"You think that I'm exempt from everything you're feeling? And I certainly don't pity you, I feel more of a kinship with you…I mean, we're in the same boat here, you're just a year closer is all. Again I ask, since it is your birthday, and you should choose, what movie do you want to see?"

Trunks sighed heavily, massaging away a headache with fingers on the bridge of his nose. They continued discussing prospective films for a few minutes, and hung up.

He had to disagree with his friend, they weren't in the same boat, not at all. His mother had been in a perpetual state of sorrow, depression, and guilt, the mere sight of her son darkening her features. His father seemed to share her sentiments, though on a more…repressed level. He urged Trunks to meditate often, hoping that mental clarity would help his possible condition. It only succeeded in aggravating the demi-saiyan's fears, allowing him to sink lower into the depths of his mind…places he did not wish to go anymore. Not to mention that everyone's focus was on him. Everything hung on his shoulders, not only his own fate, but Goten's and Bra's as well.

And the pain that his own death would bring his parent's…the pain that Bra's death would eventually bring, it was unbearable. Unbearable to think that he had caused their pain, condemned them to a life of sorrow. He scoffed at such self-centered thoughts. Whoever said that they wouldn't move on eventually? He selfishly hoped they didn't move on too quickly.

Laying back on the bed, Trunks rolled onto his side, wincing when his bruised upper arm became mashed against the mattress. His mother's constant experiments had left a permanent bruise where so many needles had assaulted his flesh. A reminder, he concluded…

Within the past few weeks he had resolved to spend as much time with Bra as possible. Which is to say that he didn't protest when she entered the room and clambered up onto the bed beside him. He closed his eyes, waiting to see what she wanted. Trunks grunted softly when she sat heavily on his stomach, the five year old curling up on him and wrapping small arms around his broad chest. He put one hand behind his head and the other gently on her back, rubbing soft circles.

"What's up, Bra-chan?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to cheer you up Niichan. You always look sad." Her face contorted sorrowfully, and she hugged him quickly, squirming. He grimaced in response, trying to force the expression into a smile, and felt no small fear when he wasn't able to conjure up a simple grin.

He didn't reply, not knowing what to tell the child. Their parents had agreed long ago not to tell Bra about her proposed fate, at least until a later age. Sometime soon, most likely. Though it was not something that such a small child should have to deal with. That anyone should have to deal with, Trunks decided.

"Thank you, B-chan."

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