By: Inuki **Ookami**
[ Hmm. Thanks to everyone who commented on this, and gave me helpful suggestions. You guys are great. ^^;; I've been super busy as of late, with my musical, and school projects, and such (not to forget a few parties I had to go to), so don't expect me to be as productive as usual. The deadline for the contest was extended another month! (But with Final Exams I may even busier than I am now. Bleh!) That's not really the point though. Anyway, I'm only posting this for you enthusiasts, 'cause expect this 'chapter' to be updated, though they're not really chapters. It's all one story- just a continuation, really.
Once again, I'd like to thank TRI for helping me decide to use Guacamole, and for listening to me whine about how crappy this fanfiction was going. TRI also gave me a good idea as to how Trunks would quieten Goten, if ya know what I mean. ^^;; Enjoy. Come back in a few days for an update of this chapter- it'll just be longer and have more in it. LoL]
Oh, Kami. Was he asking me to stay over for the night? He was. How could I possibly control myself? Then again, how could I possibly say no?
"Of course I do! As long as our parents are okay with it, I mean." I tried to not to sound too excited. Eesh, get a grip, Goten, it'll all work out. I figured if I just kept telling myself that it would, it would have to come true. Or something like that, anyway. I looked more carefully at the container, to see it was a jar of guacamole which he had finally placed. I didn't know the stuff came in jars back then. I watched as he headed over toward the massive pantry (heck, everything was massive. Unlike my humble abode, the Briefs family lived quite the life of luxury, it seemed.) and began rooting around for some taco chips. I rolled my eyes, waiting for my best friend to find the chips.
As I waited for him to dig the enigmatic taco chip bag out of the cupboard, I tried to see if I could get a good view of him. Unfortunately, he was too far in for me to really get a good look without it being glaringly obvious. Instead I turned my attention to the container of green dip. First I traced a delicate hand over the side of the jar, and held the lid with my other hand. I tried to twist it open, but to no avail. Frustrated I tried to wrench it open, but my hand started to turn red. I grumbled and twisted harder. Nothing happened. I rubbed my sore hand and looked around for some kind of a towel to ease the jar open with. Suddenly I heard a deep chuckle, turning around, there was my lavender-haired angel, emerging from the cupboard doors with an unopened bag of salted chips.
Having trouble? he grinned, coyly. I sighed, narrowing my eyes at him and muttered something under my breath about the infuriating jar. I passed the jar to him as he approached, and he looked at it for a second. Then, with astonishing talent and swiftness, unmatched by anyone I'd ever met before, he managed to get the lid off in one simple fluid motion. I stood gawking. Damn him for being so perfect.
He scoffed, mischievously. I glared at him for a second, but he raised his head, flipped his hair back with a hand, and gave me an innocent look that easily could have rivalled any of mine. How could I stay mad at a face like that? Not that I was too angry at him, mind you. It was all fair play. The point was, in the end, that Trunks obliterated any truth in the idea that no one alive can always be an angel. He was darkly beautiful when he was mad, he was wistfully beautiful when he was sad, his pure beauty was revealed through simplicity when he was solemn, and he was beautiful in an almost holy light when he placed that innocent, angelic look on his face. One of many things he only had reserved for me. What did I do to deserve such a thing? What did I ever do to get so lucky?
As he handed me back the jar of mashed avocados, and began to open the bag of chips, I glared defiantly at the jar one last time. Again, I couldn't stay mad. It was food, after all. How could I be mad at food? Besides the obvious absurdity of being furious at an inanimate object, there was the fact that food tasted good. Food was good. As I said before, it is one of my two favourite things in life. I poked a finger around in the jar, but before I got to touch it, Trunks smacked my hand away.
Don't dirty the food, baka. Go wash your hands first. He snickered. I sighed and headed toward the sink, only to catch him sticking his hand into the guacamole instead. As he was reaching up to his mouth to taste it, I cried out something to the effect of an exclamation about how it wasn't fair that he could taste it with his fingers, and I couldn't, and dove at him. We ended up on the ground, nearly spilling the jar of guacamole, causing it to land right on the edge of the counter. The two of us ended up in a heap on the ground, but he managed to swiftly turn the tables on me by flipping me over so that he had me pinned to the cold linoleum tiles that the kitchen floor was composed of. I sneered at him, and he stuck his tongue out at me.
You know, Trunks, I really object to this entire situation. I think it's ridiculous that you would even dare to- I started complaining. With that Trunks pushed my hands to the ground with one of his hands, and lifted his legs up so that he was sitting slightly above my waist. I could barely breathe for a second or two, and was forced to stop talking as the air was knocked out of me. I tried to breathe in, and struggled furiously, trying to point out the problem. He shifted his weight a bit, and I was okay after a moment. I just sat there, angrily staring up at his face. He was mocking me, I could see it already.
Want some, huh? You want this? He teased me, waving the finger covered in guacamole around in front of my face. I emitted a low and primal growl through clenched teeth. My stomach was already rumbling, and I was reminded of how I hadn't eaten since I had that bite of ice cream, if that even counted. I groaned softly, hoping Trunks would give me a little sympathy, and let me eat, but it was not so. He was going to torture me. He slowly made a big sweeping gesture with his free hand, the one covered in guacamole. I whined pathetically as he lifted the finger to his own mouth and stuck it into his mouth slowly. He began moaning and making all kinds of sounds of enjoyment. He starts rolling his tongue along his lips. Damn! If only he knew what that did to me! I felt my body tighten up, and I tried to hold back a nervous gulp. He began sliding his tongue along his finger in the most entrancing motion I'd ever seen. Not only was I hungry, I was hungry for him as well. In fact, I think if I hadn't happened to have been pinned down by him at that moment, I would have lustfully jumped him.
this is sooo good. And it's all mine. Mmmm..! You don't have any, and I do! he went on until I felt like I was going to burst. I know my face turned all red from frustration, and I began to struggle, squirming to break free from his powerful grip. I bucked my hips, but that just caused him to put more force on me. I tried to scream at him, but my voice felt hoarse and weak. I attempted to roll over, which made Trunks sway slightly, but other than that, it didn't seemingly do very much more. Suddenly I heard footsteps outside the kitchen entrance. Trunks must have heard them too, because suddenly he stopped.
Shimatta! It's my dad!' Trunks gasped, somehow either recognizing his father's footsteps or his ki. The lavender-haired teen looked at the awkward position the two of us were in, and suddenly jumped to his feet, pretending to be busy with the chips again. I just laid there, totally uneasy and confused at the sudden rush. The ominous footsteps ended up walking past the kitchen, not even noticing us. I quickly hopped up and grabbed Trunks roughly around the waist with both arms, leaning over my head over his shoulder.
I growled into his ear, and then pushed him aside, and started snacking on the chips. Unable to react because he was so shocked, he went flying to my right, but caught himself before he fell to the ground, just as I figured he would. He grumbled something, but brushed himself off, and came back to me- or maybe just the food, and began chomping down chips alongside of me. In less than half an hour we'd eaten the entire bag. All gone. I was still quite hungry, but didn't say anything about it.
"Hrm. Dinner isn't for another hour and a half. Guess we could go watch some TV." Trunks grumbled. I wasn't grumbling though, any time spent with Trunks, as far as I was concerned, was obviously time well spent. As we headed toward the living room, I blinked. Trunks ran over to the couch and laid down on one end. The couch wasn't big enough for both of us to lie down upon. I made my thoughts clear, and Trunks shrugged and said it would be okay or something equivalent. I tried to lie down opposite to him, facing the TV which he was turning on at the moment, fiddling with the buttons on the channel changer. I had difficulty lying down on the couch, but managed to finally do so, half my body on top of him. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable position, but I didn't bother to point that out... at least, Trunks shifted slightly and it got really uncomfortable, a few minutes later.
"Trunks-kun... this is *really* uncomfortable." I pointed out. He stared at me for a second, then motioned for me to turn around. I gave a confused look, not knowing what he wanted me to do, but moved toward him. He pointed out for me to lay down next to him- or rather, on top of him, my head on his stomach. I nervously did so, wondering why he didn't just tell me to go sit on the other couch, even if it had a far worse view of the television, not that the television had been what I was looking at, Kami, I could be so ecchi when it came to Trunks sometimes! Not that I'd ever act on it. I'd be way too nervous. Every time I'd ever tried to make any kind of a move Trunks either took it as a really close friendship, or I was just unable to go through with it. Not that we'd kissed or anything... but we always sat really close to each other, laid down on each other, or next to each other, slept over at each other's houses, hung out with an arm around each other's shoulders or waists or whatever. Ugh! How could he not see that as more than friendship! Even really really close friends aren't that close, are they? Then again, we did have a really physically close friendship, I could be one of those people that had to touch people a lot to express myself. Trunks, on the other hand, was quite subtle and cold to most people, except some of his family, and me. Again, I repeat my sacred mantra, what did I do to get so lucky? How did I happen to be in this god's favour for so long? What did I get right, that made him want to spend so much time with me? What made us so... compatible?
I didn't even care much about the television show. I was so content, just to rest my head on Trunks, feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest; the very idea of being so close to him was exciting enough to keep me happy for a while. I guess I was okay for the time being, even if it was only a one way relationship. I was fine throwing my heart away, even if my feelings were never going to be returned- simply because I loved him so much. That's right. It wasn't a simple crush, this was my best friend. My best friend since ever. We had grown up together. We had gone through everything together. Even if he didn't really love me romantically, he still loved me as a best friend, and I loved him right back. That was what kept our bond so strong, I guess. But then I had to go trying to get romantically involved, how dumb of me. And the aching pain inside of me, it was caused by none other than myself. If I didn't love him so much, maybethe pain wouldn't be so unbearable- maybe my stomach wouldn't cramp up when I thought about him, maybe my heart wouldn't swell like it was going to burst. I realize everything I've said sounds like mindless drivel, stereotypical lovey-dovey mush, right? But it's all true. I'd always scoffed at those silly romantic films, all that manga I read with ridiculously tragic endings and plots with over-dramatic characters living their silly little lives, caring nothing more than who they were going to try to seduce because they loved them so much. None of that is really love. One can't know... or explain love until they experience it. It's like a wash of everything at once, and it just explodes in an ethereal shower of colour and brightness, growing to become blinding, until it is so torturous that you would do anything to make it slow down, to make it fade out, to make it stop. Only, at the same time it feels so damn good that you don't want it to stop either. It's just like Trunks, my pleasure, my plague. My one greatest weakness was my intense love for him, and at the same time it meant the world to me.
I gazed innocently up at Trunks, expecting him to still be watching the television, but he wasn't. He had drifted off into a sleep. I hadn't really expected him to fall asleep, but probably should have realized he was, due to his heavy breathing. I guess I had gotten just the tiniest bit carried away in my thoughts about him. He looked so innocent when he was asleep, so adorable. So beautiful. So perfect. He had one arm around me, and the other hung lazily down the side of the couch. I smiled affectionately at him, and raised my hand to touch his lower one. I traced my finger slowly along his hand. It was so... Trunks. Everything about him was, though. His eyes, his breath, even his scent. I couldn't describe it. It was something I could just recognize as being a part of him, and any part of him was as dastardly devilish, as ruggedly handsome, and as unbearably entrancing as he was. I guess I must have faded off after that, because the next thing I remember was someone yelling.
"Dinner!" It had to be Bulma-san, Trunks' mother, of course. Excitedly, I hopped up, waking Trunks in the process, and the two of us scuffled off into the kitchen. It's safe to say we were two happy demi-saiya-jin by the end of the meal. I was nice and full, anyway. I still preferred my own mother's food, but then again, that was probably just my bias. I mean, come on, as much as she yelled and bitched and nagged, she was my mother after all. Even if she didn't think I should cause such mischief these days- not that she ever liked it when I did when I was younger anyway. I hear she was worse to my oniichan though, when he was younger. That's probably why he's so studious. Ah, whatever. I preferred to be carefree anyway.
"Hey! Let's go somewhere! I could really walk off that food!" Trunks said after dinner, always the leader. I was actually feeling a bit lazy, myself, and probably would have preferred just laying down and resting; however, this was Trunks who was asking me to do something with him, so of course, I'd agree. Trunks was always the one suggesting to do things, and I almost always went along with it. It'd been like that for as long as I could remember, even since we were little kids, way back when, from some of my earlier memories. Since then, sure, we'd grown up. My affection for him had turned into confusion when I was about thirteen or so, and eventually blossomed into love when I found my way. I think I could create a cult around him, then again, it wouldn't surprise me much if there already is one. But I wasn't like all those damned fangirls! Right?
At least, I tried to constantly tell myself that. I mean, they knew nothing about him other than the fact that his family owned the illustrious Capsule Corporation, which he would possibly inherit some day, that he was as intelligent as his mother, as strong as his father, and one of the most handsome guys I had ever met. But what they didn't know was his solemnity at times, his ability to be so serious when he wanted to. They didn't know what I had seen in him since childhood- a friend who wasn't afraid to have fun, someone who was mischievous, always pulling shenanigans, getting into tons of trouble, and being silly. What they didn't see was the side of him that I had seen as I grew older- the fact that he was compassionate, adorable when he slept, caring, comforting when I was upset. They didn't know how he held me when I needed a shoulder to cry on; they didn't see that innocent smile on his face, or that menacing one after he had pulled some monstrously funny prank. These things seemed to only be reserved for me- and they made me love him so much more.
I don't think I would have cared if he'd been dirt poor, or if he'd known less about all that science and electronic stuff. He still would have had that appeal that caused fan girls to faint, still had that charm that seemed to close all his business deals he helped his kaasan with on occasion. Yeah, he was just getting into the family business, even if we were both in school still. There seemed to be a big debate between Trunks and his parents as to whether he would continue school or start helping full-time work at Capsule Corporation. But I didn't care. I didn't care if he was a scientist; I didn't care if he was a businessman; I didn't care about anything as long as he was still Trunks- the Trunks I had fallen in love with. Trunks headed out the door, with me in tow. I chased after him, saying good-bye to his parents as Bulma-san exclaimed a rush sayonara to us both, and closed the door behind me. When I looked back up he was already rushing off.
"Oi! Trunks! Chotto matte!" I yelled, cupping my hand to my mouth for effect. Whether he heard me or not, he didn't seem to take much notice. Sighing and rolling my eyes to nobody in particular, I chased after my best friend, who was already by that point off in the distance. As I sped up, I could feel the vegetation at my feet brushing against my legs, and the wind whipping at my face. Trunks had taken off into the air, and looking around silently, I rushed into the sky. I was blinded by the sun, as I flew into the air, and couldn't see where my lavender-haired crush was. The sun was going down, and as it did so slowly, it formed a blinding semi-circle on the horizon. I tried to put a hand up to shield the incredibly bright sun's rays, but it didn't help at all. The skyline was extremely wide from up where I was, and I couldn't get a good grasp on any real movement. When I tried to sense his ki, I grew far too distracted by the sunlight and the powerful winds.
Trunks? TRUNKS? I yelled wildly above the prevailing winds, but I figured he probably couldn't hear me. Suddenly something knocked the air out of me, and I went flying forward; twirling around I saw it was the one, the only, Trunks. The jerk was laughing really hard at me too. I narrowed my eyes and turned away from him, arms crossed furiously. How dare he do that! He almost had me worried for a moment there too! Damn him! If only he knew what he did to me- but how could he?
Come on! Follow me already, slow poke! He exclaimed, childishly, flitting off like some madcap pixie. I grumbled something about the sun being far too bright for my own liking, then coasted through the sky after him, just bursting with excess energy I was waiting to use up. As Trunks continued flying along side me, I barely got a good chance to look at him. Suddenly the landscape below us was changing drastically. It had gone from low weeds and sparse shrubs to rocky clefts and mountain ranges to grassy hillsides in a matter of minutes. Finally, panting from being tired due to use of excessive energy in such a sudden burst, we landed near a hill in front of a small pond.
was all I managed to say. I was slightly in awe. Laying down on the hill-side I could see the reflection of the great orange disc setting in the shimmering pond below. The delicate wings of a powdery butterfly flapped silently along the air current as it flitted past us and through the evening sky. Trunks had propped himself up against a small tree, and I watched his every feature, adoringly, as it was illuminated by the orange glow of rays that reminded me of embers from the sun. It was an especially cool and calm sunset, and a warm breeze rustled my clothing like unseen hands.
There's an age old problem with people in their youth. They get crushes on people they could never possibly go out with: rock stars, famous celebrities, or the popular kids at school. Often times they'd never even get the chance to talk to these people. On the other hand, my predicament was so much more unbearable. To be around the one I had given my heart away to- and to be forced to put on a show every day of my life. To be dishonest to my best friend, and myself. It was torture every day seeing him, yet, how could I stop? Every time I tried to tell him, things just went wrong.
"It's not that kakkoii. It's *just* a sunset, Goten." Trunks blinked down at me, frowning slightly. I just pouted, and crossed my arms with a defiant "humph!" of protest. The older teen blinked at me for a second, then a smirked danced across his face and he rolled his eyes at me. I grumbled something under my breath, and he watched me oddly.
"Trunks, do you have to be so serious sometimes? It seems like ever since last year you've started being overly concerned with doing school work. You know you'll do well- you always do. Why worry?" I asked him, sighing softly. I slid a hand through my thick hair, brushing a midnight-black bang back up to where it belonged. A moment later it fell back down in front of my face; comically, I crossed my eyes to look at it. I glared at the hair for a moment, then blew on it angrily. It lifted, and fell back against my face. Trunks saw this and chuckled.
"Honestly Chibi!" He smirked as he put a hand on to my shoulder. I melted under his warm touch, leaning my head against his arm. He raised his hand suddenly, and ruffled my hair. I raised my eyes to look up at him, and tried to move my head away, but to no avail. His hand slowed, and he ran a hand through my dark spikey hair slowly. I snickered, as it felt ticklish, and batted his hand away with my own.
"Ookei, ookei! Cut it out Trunks!" I snorted, trying to knock his arm away from me. He continued running his hand along, and a chill ran through my body, starting from the base of my spine. I finally managed to snatch his hand, and threw it away. He tried to lunge at me in vengeance, but I dodged, rolling out of the way. Trunks laid there for a second with an awkward expression on his face after he realized I had swiftly moved out of the way from his grasp. I stopped him before he could get back up.
"I uhh... have to go to the bathroom!" I squeaked, leaping to my feet, not even giving Trunks a chance to think about it. I quickly turned and fled, hoping he wouldn't follow again. There were no tears. Trunks did no follow me either. I rushed past some thin trees as quickly as I could, my entire body moving as a speeding blur, and finally arrived at my destination.
[negau dake ga yume ja
nai motomeru dake ga hito ja nai
naitatte ii ne warawaretatta zenbu nuijae]
[Only praying is not
a dream, only seeking is not a person
It's okay to cry, remove all the laughter]
It was a few beautiful, delicate Japanese maple trees, along with ripe persimmons which created an intricate pattern of colour above my head. These plants had centered themselves around a small man-made arch. Such arches were thought to be the gate into other realms of awareness, and they were often built at the entrances to temples.
As I entered under the archway and proceeded toward a small shrine of no more than six or seven feet, the sliver across the horizon to the west caused the clouds to be illuminated a warm orange and gold across the dark blue sky. I knelt my head before the shrine, and my breath grew shallow. I collapsed to the ground, catching my unstable body by jutting two hands out onto an elaborately designed intricate pole on either side of me that held the shrine up. I breathed heavily into the shrine, and thoughts ran through my mind like a river. The sky was darkening, but I didn't care. I didn't care how my mother would stress and shriek at me for staying over at Trunks' house for two days and not doing any housework- I didn't care how my father wouldn't notice me as always, coming and going, eating and fighting... and ignoring me. All my thoughts were focused then on telling Trunks the truth. I always had known I would have to, as it became more apparent and I was forced to learn to accept it myself; however, telling him was the bigger issue at stake.
Would he become violent? Would he understand? I had to dismiss the thoughts that he might feel the same way, but at the same time I wished so deeply that he did. I bowed my head and inclined my body, resting against the shrine, facing it, and praying. Praying that a saviour would come. Praying some sort of divine message would tell me that this was the right way. I was praying that some greater force out there would tell me that this was right- that I was right; something would tell me that I had to go tell Trunks the truth now. Yet nothing came.
I inhaled heavily, my jugular flowing as I gulped in. I could feel my eyes watering up- but I was not going to cry this time. A thick and hazy smile washed itself across my face, because I knew that it was all over. I was going to tell him. Whether he liked it or not. I didn't care about anything anymore. I had spent so much time worrying, but in the end it all lead down to a single moment.
I had figured that it wouldn't be very much like Trunks to abandon his best friend just because I was going to reveal my crush on him. Then again, I knew I would have to take into account the fact that he also had Vegeta's blood in him. The blood of his father. The blood of a fighter. He had grown up under his father's roof, and under his parent's rules, and as much as he hated to admit it, sometimes he acted almost freakishly similar to those that bore him. Then again, was I going to be able to stay friends with him if he couldn't accept me? I'd just go back to living a lie- only it'd be that much worse because I would know that he knew. He would know, and not do anything about it. Probably think about how disgusting I was in his mind. Once again I sighed about how stupid and limiting these... ningen traits and customs were. Love shouldn't know boundaries. If it should- then why were these intense feelings I had for my best friend so beautiful? How could I carry on, knowing that he didn't accept me? Kami, he meant everything to me. I think if he had told me in a serious manner to go jump off a bridge- I'd do it for him. I think I'd have done almost anything for him at that point, I had grown so desperate. Perhaps it sounds sick and bad to some people, but they can't even begin to comprehend how I felt about him, or how he made me feel when I was around him. Just being in his presence was enough. Just smelling his scent- seeing his face, hearing his voice, all these things and more drove me totally out of my mind.
As if my fear of his rejection
wasn't enough, I didn't even want to begin to think how my parents
would feel about the entire situation- not that I cared that much; however,
I did care a little bit more than I'd like to have thought I did. After
all, they were my parents from birth- even if I hadn't seen my father much
during my short life. Even if I hadn't experienced everything he had experienced.
Even if I wasn't as smart as my oniichan- even if I wasn't as emotional
and overdramatic as my mother- I was still of their blood, just as Trunks was
of his family's. I was still a Son by nature. Perhaps dopey, and dumb can
be associated with our family, but so can emotional, sympathetic, kind, and
good-hearted. Doing something like loving Trunks all those years made me feel
dirty- which was sadly ironic, since the feelings themselves felt so pure and
innocent. I felt like a filthy mongrel, a dirty, greasy, monster. And all the
pressure crowded me in, until I could almost hear their voices- see them all,
spinning around me. I was sweating profusely, and wiped my brow with my left
hand, still leaning against the shrine with my right hand. I sighed, and straightened
my posture, angling myself upward.
I wondered what would happen if something happened to him. I'd never forgive
myself. What if something happened before I could tell him? I couldn't let that
happen. I couldn't take that chance. I turned from the shrine, running through
the arch, and blindly back to the hillside. Through the darkness I ran, trusting
my instinct, narrowily dodging trees and assorted vegetation. I couldn't let
anything stop me. If I had any second thoughts or reconsiderations I might continue
wavering about telling for the rest of my life. I knew I wouldn't be able to
last forever without telling him. It would hurt too much. It already hurt so
much. My heart felt heavy when I thought of him, and empty when he wasn't around.
When I arrived back at the hill, he had his eyes closed, and was relaxed, leaning against that same small tree. When I arrived, panting, he opened his eyes slowly, his eyelids raising, his lashes following, in a motion unsurpassed by any other that I had seen as long as fluidity came into play. He raised an eyebrow slightly, to give me a questioning look. Kami, I had to restrain myself. I was a mix of so many emotions all at once. Part of me wanted to run away again, part of me just wanted to cry and collapse and have him hold and comfort me- and part of me... part of me wanted to ravish that handsome smirk off his face, that knowing expression, those delicate hands, and handsome- I had to focus my thoughts. It took a lot of concentration.
I stood there, enveloped in the sudden darkness, and clenched my fists tightly, looking at the ground. I was both ashamed and afraid to look at him. I didn't want to see his reaction when I told him. It would hurt too much. It already hurt too much. Hurt beyond spoken words. A searing pain that I knew I couldn't keep bottled up forever. This was the moment. The moment that I would tell him. Finding him again on the hill was not enough to satisfy me any longer. He had to know. I couldn't keep it from him any more. I was going to come clean. He was not the one that I searched to find- it was myself. And his innerself.
"What's going on, Chibi?" He said after a moment, casually, as though he wasn't the be all and end all. As if he didn't hold my entire world in his grasp- as if he couldn't crush it's fragile structure by mistreating it every so slightly, as if he couldn't shatter my heart with a single slip of the hand. But he could. The fact that he didn't act like he could made it hurt so much more. My throat clenched up, and I struggled to respond. My mouth grew dryer than any desert, and I squeezed my eyes together tightly, trying to concentrate again.
He moved away from his position, stepping forward. Inwardly I flinched. I knew I would collapse if he came near me- if he touched, I would melt into his arms. I had to keep my distance. But I was too late- because he was already approaching me, and my feet were numb, my body was frozen. I tried to move, or tell him to stay back, but I was unable to do so. It was like one of those nightmares where the person can't move their body.
His face grew warm with the compassion that only I knew he had, and I could feel him draw me into an embrace. We had such a close friendship- like nothing I ever had or could have with anyone else. And there I was, blundering ahead, trying to make it more than what it was. I was being stubborn and selfish by not telling him, though. Keeping him for myself- having secret desires, how could the truth not come out eventually? Everything flooded over me, all the events of the last day, the last week, the last year, and I couldn't help the tears that were flowing suddenly.
"Oh, Trunks!" I sobbed into his shoulder, and I could feel his hair against the side of my face, feel his warm body against my arm. I wrapped my own slender hands around his powerful, masculine form, and suddenly felt totally frail, which seemed odd, since Trunks wasn't that much more shapely or muscular than I was. He grew as stiff as a board, which complicated things, since where his face had been compassionate a second before, suddenly It had grown void of all emotion.
"Chibi... you can tell me anything. I promise." What did he promise? That he wouldn't tell anyone? Didn't he realize I didn't care if anyone else knew? Didn't he care that it mattered very little to me what others though? How could I explain to him that it was his reaction I was worried about? With renewed strength I drew back, and he gave me a strange glance, he looked hurt. Maybe he thought I had felt uncomfortable with him. If only he knew it was because I felt uncomfortable with myself. Maybe it was because I thought maybe he'd treat me like a little nobody from now on- just like everybody else I knew. Trunks was the only one that had ever made me feel like a somebody. That was why it was so important that I couldn't keep it from him. That was why his reaction meant so much to me.
By telling him, I knew I risked being heart-broken; if he didn't feel the same way, no matter how much he cared, I wasn't ever going to be able to act the same way around him ever again. Then again, I didn't just expect him to hop into my arms so I could carry him away and we could make meaningless love on some beach with liquor and lawn chairs by the sunset. That wasn't at all what I wanted. Then again, there was a third possibility- one which I had definitely considered. He might be appalled; he might be disgusted with me. He might be repulsed instead of flattered over my crush- and that would mean things between us would never be the same- this tight knit friendship, and immensely close bond we had would be stretched until the point of breaking.
"Trunks... I have something to tell you." I said, unable to look at him. He was staring right at me. I could feel it. Sometimes he would get into this weird mood whenever I was embarrassed to tell him something, or ashamed, or whatever. He'd sit there and glare at me, trying to make eye contact. I could always tell when he was doing it. It's the same sort of feeling when you know somebody is watching you, but you're not exactly sure where they are. A warm grasp tilted my chin and lifted my head, so that his crystal cerulean-blue eyes met mine own. He gazed into my eyes, and I could detect a warmth there- underneath his solemn facial expression, and the noble, cold exterior he had inherited from his father.
"I'm all ears." He whispered, sending more chills up and down my spine. His hands were still on my chin, placed delicately, and I could barely feel them- he had the touch of a ghost. I began to shiver, but it wasn't at all from the cold. I could feel my eyes welling up again. Chikuso! I had thought all my tears had been washed away, but they were forming again. I must have looked like such a pathetic child in front of him. Trunks. My best friend. My crush. The one I loved so dearly, cared about so deeply. I could say it to myself. I even tried saying it out loud when I was alone in my bedroom at night. It just sounded so... right. So perfect. I cleared my throat, and started to speak again. My throat was even drier than before.
"I... I've always cared about you so much. You've always been there for me, when nobody else has, Trunks. You've been everything to me, you've been the only one I have ever been able to fall back on- the only one I can turn to when I'm hurt or in trouble. We've gone through everything together... and I love you." I said, as it all came rushing out in one big breath. He stared at me for a second, as everything I was saying registered. His face remained a calm, pale, emotionless breach of demeanour. Shouldn't he have been shocked? My breathing grew even deeper, and my stomach felt all tight.
"Nani?" He said quietly after a moment. Finally a note of discordance hovered over his face. His normally healthy face grew suddenly pale, and his eyes sort of glazed over. I think maybe it had started to strike him. I think his mind was still trying to catch up- because it looked like it was going a hundred miles a minute. He always grew strange when he was deep in thought, sort of far away.
"I said I love you, Trunks. I always have- and I always will. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." I whispered, the words forcing themselves out of my throat like some sort of vile balls of sludge, sliding their way to the surface, and emerging. I felt sick all over. I knew his reaction wasn't going to be good right then and there. How could it be? The new prince of the Saiya-jin? The future president of Capsule Corporation? He could never love me, a stupid, over-emotional baka who interpreted too much, and wasted time thinking about things that never could be.
He sort of leaned back, as though to collapse on the tree, but totally missed the tree, since he had come forward before to comfort me when I had grown upset. He ended up collapsing into the grass, and for once in my life I didn't have the urge to tackle him even though he was on the ground. My vision began to blur again, but I held strong, and refused to let the tears come this time. This time I needed to be the strong one. We must have stayed there for a good three or four minutes, him trying to comprehend what I had said, and me, trying to hold back the tears and figure out exactly what he was thinking.
I sat down next to him after a few more moments of awkward silence, still keeping my distance. It hurt too much to get too close. It always had, but it was worse just then. Finally, after a long break I sighed, and looked up at the stars. It had been one of our favourite things to do as little kids. The stars, were, of course immensely fascinating. All those tiny little bright lights up in that big black darkness. Trunks in his infinite wisdom had called them "festival lanterns" when we were much younger. I, always the follower, agreed with him. He had some big theory about how they were suspended in the sky, but to tell the truth I had never really believed that it was true- even if it was a nice idea.
"How long have you felt that way?" He asked coldly. Emotionless was his game when he was looking for a defence mechanism. A defence against me- his best friend. Maybe a defence against feelings I had for him, that he just didn't understand. Felt "that way"? What did he mean by that? That I liked him? That I liked guys? Because I didn't. It wasn't a girl or a guy. It was just him. There was only one of him. I didn't want anyone else.
"I figured it out
a few years ago." I responded quietly. That was the truth. I'd noticed
I never developed feelings or attraction for anyone. Except him. I didn't find
any interest in those girls with the big busts, or tiny waists. I didn't really
find any interest in those male models either, though. As I said, I only found
interest in him. He was always in my thoughts, even when I did school work,
or housework. There he was, lurking. His mischievous grin, his serious and solemn
prowess, his silky hair, and his handsome face.