by: Inuki **Ookami**
Published:
3rd December, 2003
Pairings: Goten x Trunks
Disclaimers: The poem and Dragon Ball Z and it's characters are obviously
not mine.
Archive? I'll probably let you, just tell me first! ^^
Summary: Written for a Winter Fanfic Contest... it's about Trunks and
Goten returning home for the holidays- they have to finally face their parents.
Other notes: I'l keep it short and sweet: I know I haven't been writing
for a long time. I've had a LOT of personal stuff to sort out... and a lot of
school work too. I'm going to try and get back on track soon, hopefully.
As always, in regards to this story, it simply wasn't written for comments,
but I'm grateful for any recognition I recieve, as well as any criticism- as
long as it's rational. ^_^ (And anything that seems out-of-character is um...
artistic license on my part! ^^;;; ) And no, this hasn't been spellchecked,
and has barely even been proof-read.. expect more to come soon. ^_^
:::: Home
For The Holidays
Here come the tough days, rough season for gay
Illusions to Currier and Ives, dead limbs family trees
Chances to love, opportunities to punish
Holidays
spent alone, in rooms full of relatives
Always
about others, few thoughts for the person
Why she chose living sinful, how he let down his father
Shouldn't try to hug grandma, can't be alone with children
A pariahs isolation, aliens in their own family
A
wish to belong, never felt truly one
Rebuking flashed glances, sly smirks of entendre
No insights requested, no genuine interest about it
Prefer speculation, deviant myths rich with gossip
When
holidays have passed, returned safe to gay ghettos
How many will ask, why even they bothered
Year after year till one day to stop, going home altogether
Families cannot accept, what they will not understand
© 2003 - Liam
:::: Part 1
Ever since they had clambered off the bus at four that afternoon, the two of
them had been wandering around the neighborhood looking for a certain lane.
"Are you sure you remembered it correctly?" inquired the lavendar-haired youth.
"Quite sure," Goten replied. "Number 57, Moonlight Lane."
The whole area was a labyrnth of lanes, mazes of small alleyways lead down side-roads, and dead-end roads littered the menagerie of sidewalks and road ways. The situation was rather unfortunate, because the dark haired teen had lost his map with the directions on it.
"Why did they have to move into the city?" grumbled Goten, who had never been the biggest fan of urban living.
The sun was already quickly disappearing behind the previous night's heavy snowfall. The snow had begun to melt slightly during the day, and now was beginning to freeze hard again. Walking was difficult. Frozen over wet patches of newly formed ice made moving slippery, and large snow banks were easy to misjudge and tumble into accidentally.
The pair were in their late teens, the lavendar haired boy being only a year older than his companion.
It was quiet within the alleyways, but the wind was strong. People scurried past from time to time, no one looking anyone else in the eye, which was just fine by them.
Goten walked in front, hugging a large tin of Christmas cookies (which Trunks had evidently complained about, making note that religion was "absurd" as he had put it, and that no baby can be concieved immaculately, according to science. This bothered Goten slightly- not because he believed in Christianity, but simply because he felt that the other boy was too serious and couldn't just enjoy the festive holiday spirit). The raven-haired teenager had tried several times without success to hold the tin under one arm to give hte other a rest, but he was wearing too many layers of clothing and the tin was just too big. As the boy wrestled with the tin, his companion walked on ahead and, breathing heavily, turned to look back at him.
"Serves you right," he said, almost childishly. "You almost managed to lose yourself too!"
Goten raised his face to smile up at the lavendar-haired teen and took a couple of steps forward to catch up, still clutching the large tin.
The dark-haired boy had lost his wallet earlier when they were buying the cookies (which Trunks had refused to let Goten make in their apartment- and which the older teenager had refused to pay for. As he said he would not allow something so "soiled" to be created under his roof. The dark haired boy protested utterly, proclaiming his friend insane, as they were only little cookies in the shape of fir trees and candycanes- what harm could they possibly do?). Goten was dithering back and forth, trying to choose the best cookie tin, when he discovered the loss. Losing a bit of money wasn't so important, but the map had been in that wallet. Luckily, he could still remember the street name and number.
"It's very cold today," he said, stealing a glance up at his friend.
Trunks did not reply.
"Just think- we've been rushing around the whole day...," he continued, look up apologetically at the lavendar-haired teenager, as if he himself was responsible for the days' bad luck.
With some effort Trunks continued on his way, kicking the loose snow drifts aside to clear the path a bit, and dodging the patches of melted snow on the road, which were beginning to harden.
"Do you have a headache again?" asked Goten.
Trunks ignored him.
"It wouldn't look good- if we didn't go- we told Kaasan we would," he said in a very small voice.
"There you go again, gabbling away and changing your mind. If you don't want to go we could have gone home long ago!" Trunks was short-tempered as of late.
Goten began walking faster, taking uneven strides forward. The cookie tin was too big, preventing him from seeing the ground beneath him.
"Your headache will get worse if you're unhappy like that all the time. What's more..." He swallowed whatever else he had been meaning to say. After walking a while longer he said, "Kaasan already arranged it for tonight. You can go first and see if you can stand it, and if you don't want to stay we don't have to- it's not too late yet."
"I never said I didn't want to stay!" cried Trunks.
"In fact," commented the dark-haired teen with a smile, "I don't think it'll be all that bad seeing the whole family again, it *has* been a year and a half." He spoke quickly, as if he had long been waiting for an opportunity to say this.
"Well, as long as you think it's fine, there's no problem, is there?"
"What are you saying that for? It's not just me..."
They went on in silence, examining the street-signs at the entrance to each lane. There was so many in this neighborhood.
"If you want to stay too, then we can stay." Goten was trying his hardest to ease the atompshere slightly. "What's more, I ought to talk to oniichan too- I heard he's been doing some interesting things lately."
The wind set a few courtyard doors banging.
Occasionally a flurry of snow would be blown off a shadowed roof-top and make its way down people's necks.
"I still think you should put on my scarf," said the raven-haired teen.
"I'm not cold at all, and what's more..." Goten's attention focusd entirely on him, and the clumsy dark-haired boy almost tripped over a brick lying frozen in the road.
"I told you to give that tin to me," shouted Trunks.
"Well, I won't!"
"I can manage it- unlike you!" His voice had suddenly gone much lower.
A group of chattering, giggling girls turned out of the lane ahead and came in their direction. There was a silence as the girls walked towards them.
Trunks turned his face away, apparently studying the street-sign.
The girls walked on past, only to give obvious stares at the lavendar-haired boy, whispering comments under their breath of excitement. Goten rolled his eyes at them silently, but once they had gone by it turned into an angry blush as blood flushed his face. How dare they stare at Trunks like that! Trunks continued without a sound. Trunks kept wanting to go faster, but he wasn't sure that Goten would be able to keep up. Some time passed before they hard the sound of laughter and voices again, going off into the distance.
"Give it to me!"
"No way!"
"It's not necessary!"
"I know what you're afraid of," muttered Goten, under his breath, holding on to the tin and walking steadfastly ahead.
"Me afraid? What have I got to be afraid of?"
The raven-haired boy said nothing.
"If that's what you want, just go ahead and carry it! What do I care?" Trunks was still shouting, but his tone had softened considerably.
And so Trunks carried the tin after all. Whenever Goten got angry or felt aggrieved he would blink fiercely and not utter a word. He knew Trunks was doing it for his sake, that the lavendar haired boy was afraid that he too... Well being so clumsy in the first place, and carrying that tin too... But Goten still felt upset and angry with him. "Why didn't you find someone with more tact than me?" he asked silently.
-
"What if you hadn't grown up with me?"
"I don't know- you've always been a part of my life, since I can remember."
"But just suppose... suppose you and I had only just met..."
"Just suppose?!" He flared up again and pulled up a weed which he twisted around his finger while looking off towards some lights in the distance. There was a small shed there belonging to the watchman at a construction site.
"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine," Goten said. "But you musn't be angry."
The other boy turned his face fiercely toward his companion. "Just suppose I'd never existed in the first place, eh? Just suppose the world never existed?"
"What's the point in saying all this? I was talking about reality..."
"I know there's no point, so let's not talk about it. This is the way I am, and you're the way you are- that's reality for you."
They were sitting beside a pile of bricks by the roadside. The city moat's muddy water flowed on int he moonlight. Mosquitoes attacked their faces. Beyond, in the distance, lay the silent construction site.
"It'll be a real mess around here when those apartments are built," Goten commented sadly. He had always hated to see traditional housing and forests (as few as they were by then) destroyed so high-priced apartments could be sold off.
Trunks looked at the moon, saying nothing. The moon was so tiny and so far away. The moon that night, too, had seemed particularly small and remote.
"Reality's the only thing that matters- what's the point in talking about possibilites?" He continued looking at the moon as he said, almost to himself, "I've always known. I knew we should be together. That's reality for you."
"You've always known?"
"I've forgotten when it started exactly..."
-
"Yes," Goten thought, "that's reality! So many years now."
And Goten tried to catch the other boy's eye.
"I can carry it," the raven-haired teen said. "Truly! It's *only* a cookie tin- I can manage it." He was deliberatly pretending nothing had happened.
He continued, "Remember that time I got Kasu? I managed to carry that big basket all the way back by myself, didn't I? And she didn't even run away." Kasu was their cat.
Breathing hard, Trunks walked on, his feet making a shuffling sound as he pushed some more large ice shards aside. Goten began to feel bad again as he remembered the loss of his wallet.
"It was really strange loosing that wallet. You were standing right behind me when I was buying the cookies, weren't you?" He was trying to change the subject.
The lavendar-haired boy still said nothing, but did glance at the other boy once.
"Why are you always so unhappy?" What Goten feared most was that Trunks might get angry, for as soon as that happened his headache gave him trouble- it had started ever since Goten had told him about "it".
When Goten saw that the older boy still wasn't going to say anything, the raven-haired boy brought up the subject of the map once again.
"Kaasan really took a lot of care over that map- she said she spent over half-an-hour drawing it!"
"And then you went and lost it. I don't even know why your parents changed houses all of a sudden- they'd been just fine in their old place for how many years?" Trunks' tone was very mild.
Goten laughed and said, "It would have been better if I'd given you the wallet to carry!"
"Look out!" Trunks cried.
Startled, Goten barely managed to avoid a small hole in the ground. He was always look up at the lavendar-haired boy, hoping he was happy, hoping he'd smile.
-
"Why do you keep on looking at me all the time?"
"How do you know I'm looking at you if you're not looking at me?"
"Well, what's the verdict? Better-looking than a baboon, eh?"
"Than what? Better-looking than who?"
"Haven't you ever been to the zoo?"
"Yes, when I was a really little kid. Remember?"
"Well, what do you think I look like?"
"Like a wood lump that doesn't know how to laugh."
"If a wooden lump laughed there'd be an earthquake."
"What are you afraid of... there's no one else around."
"Aren't you afraid?"
"I'm really afraid when I see you unhappy all the time."
Then he smiled; he was astoundingly handsome; Goten wished for once that their family could be just like other people's... That night Goten told him...
-
The sun had disappeared completely. They were still wandering around the same
neighborhood, searching blindly everywhere. People were leaving work. It was
cold, and they were hurrying homewards. Goten wanted to ask the way several
times, but Trunks wouldn't let him.
"What's there to be afraid of?"
"Who said anything about being afraid?"
"I'll go and ask- you don't have to."
"No you wont!"
They continued onwards. The number of people going home now seemed to indicate a factory in the vicinity.
"Are you feeling tired?" asked Goten in that same small voice of his- as if he were afraid of startling someone. "Is your head troubling you?" he asked again.
Trunks did not reply. He did not feel like talking.
"Oh, it's all my fault... What if you just sit here and rest a while and wait for me?"
The lavendar-haired teen rolled his eyes at his companion impatiently and continued walking.
They walked on silently through the tide of workers heading homewards, a gap sometimes appearing between them. A tall chimney in the distance spewed out black smoke which blew raggedly in the southeasterly wind. Some sparrows flew in a flurry onto a rooftop, then onto the bare branches of a jujube tree before flying off once again. An old woman wearing a white apron stood on a corner, crying. "Fresh hot meatballs! Just ready to eat!"
After some time they realized they had made their way back to the main road. Not far off stood the cinema where they got off the bus earlier that afternoon. There was nothing to do but turn back. Fewer people were on the streets now. The ruts in the road had turned into channels of ice and several smaller children were sliding along them. The raven-haired boy kept turning back to look at them.
"Are you coming or not?" Trunks wanted to flare up at the other teen again, but then he noticed that Goten was looking at the children.
A little flustered, the younger teen said, "I forgot what it was like to be a little kid."
"Oh really?" Trunks stopped walking and looked at the children.
"Care-free and uncaring. I miss being like that, don't you?"
They continued looking for a while. The children were having so much fun on the ice; all brightly coloured, they looked like so many balls of wool.
"Let's get going." Trunks said, nudging the other boy softly. "Come on, let's go!" he said again.
"Why do you care what other people think of you? Why do they let them judge you like that?"
They passed two more lanes, neither of them the right one. Goten kept going on about the children. "I barely even remember what it was like to have real fun anymore. Don't you remember when you could just say any stupid thing that came to your mind, Trunks-kun? Don't you remember..."
"Look out where you're going!"
"The only thing is... I was thinking that maybe we could wait a few months."
"Well, whatever, a few months before our parent disown us won't matter that much."
"No, that's not what I was worrying about. What does worry me is..."
Trunks turned round fiercely to face Goten and he came to an abrupt halt, as if his own thoughts had scared him.
"You don't think they'll be afraid of us, do you? Do you think they'll understand? After all, they are from a different generation than us..." He had finally managed to say it.
The wind had become even stronger. Somewhere an old iron ot was blown clattering to the ground. They walkedon blindly, forgetting to check the streets names.
In fact, this was not the first time either of the had thought of this, but for some reason neither of them had ever mentioned it. Perhaps just the though that by avoiding mention of it, it would remain only a possibility, or perhaps they had meant to bring it up several times, but somehow the subject always changed...
-
"Do you think we should tell them at once or individually?" The lithe raven-haired boy sat on the bed, looking up from his book. Whenever he had the money to bus to it, he loved to wander around the downtown library. flipping through books, checking out books which he never got around to reading, and lay piled up on his night-table. That evening he had finally begun one from the pile. He had forgotten how much he loved the feel of a thick leather-bound book in his hands.
"It doesn't really matter which... they're going to find out somehow." Trunks said. He had wanted to bring this up, but the other boy had beaten him to it.
"That's what I think too. Indvidually would take a long time, but saying it to everyone would take a lot of courage."
Trunks said nothing else, thinking that perhaps it wouldn't...
-
One night the dark-haired teen was once again awakened by the other boy's shouts. He was always having nightmares. It was raining hard outside. The lavendar-haired teen lit a cigarette. "If you want to tell them, only tell your parents..." he said suddenly. The red glow of his cigartte brightened and dimmed.
"Try to sleep more- it's still early. And stop that nasty habit, it'll only kill you." Goten sighed, walking up to the other boy, draping one arm around him, and swiping the cigarette with the other, throwing it out a window which he had opened. The thin trail of smoke followed the cigarette.
The street-lights were still on and the shadow of a tree wavered against the wall.
"That's all I ask- you can decide everything else."
"I'm afraid my parents will only tell yours anyway..." Goten had wanted to talk about it then.
Trunks came suddenly to lay his head on the other boy's chest. "People don't live very long... our parents will only get older. We owe it to them to tell them the truth- to be open with them. We must be honest."
Lightning illuminated Trunks' tear-streaked face. The younger boy cradled his head and lay there, terrified, looking at the wavering tree-shadow on the wall. Later Goten cried, and forgot to talk about it.
-
And then there had been the evening they had sat enjoying the cool shade under
the overpass. A young couple were playing hide-and-seek with their little girl
at the head of the bridge. While the mother held her hands over the little girl's
eyes, the father crept behind a tree to hide.
She watched them with rapt attention, leaned on his shoulders, and giggled, afraid to make a sound; then she stretched her neck out and laughed out loud anyway.
The young father tickled his daughter's faec with his beard, so that she wriggled in his arms and chuckled loudly...
Trunks had thought of it again then and had been about to mention it when the darker-haired boy once more interrupted his companion's train of thought. He began to talk slowly.
"Doesn't it ever make you sad... thinking that you might never have children?"
"Well, there's always adoption..." the other boy replied thoughtfully.
"But it would never be like having one of your own." Goten replied solemnly.
Goten's train of thought
drifted off. He remembered when they went to see The Hunchback of Notre
Dame, a young child in the audience asked in a loud voice, "Why does
that nasty bad man always keep ringing that bell?" Children always think
people that are "different" are evil. That time they didn't say anything;
didn't even talk the whole night long.