Author's Notes: ... wee! More chapterage! One thing I kept forgetting to mention is that this story was inspired by an ongoing "real life" roleplay with my good friend, newtypeshadow. (She has wonderful fanfics, mostly Gundam Wing and original poetry. Go read her stuff!) So yay for her. ^_^ I sincerely hope this particular chapter turned out well and you're a little tense in the latter half, but we'll see... Bwhahaha! Beware of my bad self!

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

"All You Have"

~chapter three~

by: Rosalyn Angel

It was the same as that one night a while back. I was once again lying in my bed when I heard a muffled wailing. Not a sob, a wail. Before it had been a soft whimpering, but that time I had heard one pained wail that was cut off as soon as it had begun.

Unlike last time, I easily figured out what it had been from and climbed out of my bed to investigate. I checked your mother's room first but found it quiet and locked. Also unlike that one night, the sound wasn't continuous; it had been a sharp lamenting moan. So I didn't have anything to listen for to point me in the right direction.

You were trying so hard not to let me hear your blubbering, weren't you?

I decided the best possible place to look would be your room, so I left my spot at your mother's door and crept my way farther into the house. You're probably wondering why I was even looking in the first place. I mean, I knew it was you feeling sorry for yourself. So why? Maybe it was because of fascination.

If you really want to know, then understand that before my sister had been killed, all I saw of you was in battle. I only saw your frown, your scowl, your hate. It's like the thought of you smiling; what would you look like with tears streaming down your face? How could you, a stubborn warrior, be reduced to crying? I had to see it with my eyes, just like I had to see you smiling to truly believe that picture. Plus, it would fascinate me to see your expression with such sadness. Were you really as cold as you acted to be?

That one night, there had been no tears. There had been just sobbing. So I secretly wished for tears that time. That wail had been too pain-wracked for there not to be tears.

I arrived at your door and placed a hand on the knob. With my curiosity and fascination leading me on, I turned it.

I spat a curse and slapped myself on the forehead, then sighed and trekked back to my room.

... the damn thing had been locked.

******

The man takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his dark hair. He glances up at the night sky to see several white specs of snow beginning to fall. His eyes do not waver; he does not flinch. A snowflake lands on his face, but he does not feel it.

******

The next day, you were quiet. Not the type of quiet where you ignored me and nothing more-- I mean the type of quiet where you wouldn't have talked to your friends even if they were still alive. It bugged me to a certain point because I didn't know what the quick change in your attitude was about, all because of your door having a stupid lock. Of course you would lock it if you didn't want me barging in. You learned that from the last time.

Once again, I figured out a theory. You probably had come to some sort of realization, one that you didn't care to realize. You didn't quite understand why you hadn't killed me when you did my sister (even though you hated me as much as one could hate), or why you hadn't killed me when I had caught you in your mother's room, or any of those other times I annoyed you. I also wondered why you hadn't destroyed the radio yet whenever you scowled at me for singing, but that's not the point.

I was used to your frown and narrowed eyes and blue orbs that held all of your emotions. And then suddenly, you changed on me. It wasn't an obvious change, but since I watched you for most of the time, I noticed it. Your eyes were a tad sadder and the way you walked was a bit slower. If I was lucky enough to be able to look at your face without you turning away a few seconds later, then I could tell that the shame you carried had grown some.

Don't get me wrong. I didn't pity or feel bad for you. Those were just a few things I had observed.

I was even more curious to see what you looked like when you broke down. I would be happy to see tears streaking down your face as you crumbled before me. And then I would wipe them away with a smirk. The smirk would explain to you my thoughts. "Even though you may be able to beat me in a battle," it would say, "I'm still stronger than you."

I wondered what I would do if I saw you smiling instead. That would be the event of the century. But my chances of seeing you crying were much larger, so I didn't bother much. Actually, I would probably just stare. How was I supposed to react to your happiness? I had never caused anyone's happiness except my own, so I wouldn't know what to do. Then again, I rest my case. I thought I would never cause you to grin so I didn't have to worry about it.

Time to complain. Do you know how much I detested that wristband? It was tight, it was cold, it restrained me from escaping, and most of all, I hate being controlled. Always have, always will. Why do you think I rid the world of Doctor Gero? Besides the fact that he was butt ugly. Anyway, yeah. He had the gall to think that he could control me with a push of a button. He thought that, just because he created me, he owned me. I showed him otherwise.

Am I getting off the topic again? Is that a record for me? Thought so. But it's not like I'm pressed for time or anything. I can ramble on as much as I please.

Like I was saying, you seemed quieter. I cursed door locks more than I ever had before, but I didn't need to. You see, I soon found out some interesting information that proved my theories about you.

It was in the eve, but not quite night. The sun was just about to set and it cast a violent crimson through the windows. It almost reminded me of dripping blood, as if the room was wounded. I would think that, wouldn't I? Well, you had just finished inhaling your dinner and was rattling around in the kitchen, most likely cleaning things up. I was in the living room, next to the kitchen, and once again listening to the radio. The stupid talking guy was going on about how people were rebuilding and how everyone was so cheerful that the androids had vanished.

Vanished, my ass. My sister had been killed and I was basically a prisoner. Get to the music. It was really getting on my nerves to hear people talk about me like that, even though I guess I deserved it back then. I could squash them like bugs as soon as I freed myself and yet they ignorantly dance around at my disappearance. They shouldn't have been so laid back just because I hadn't shown myself for several days.

Finally the music was being played. It was a loud rock type, the type I liked. I snickered and turned it up, standing from my chair in the process. I knew that song; they tended to play it a lot. So I used my "beautiful" voice to sing along. I honestly didn't think I sounded all that bad, but I knew I wasn't a star or anything. You just didn't care to hear my voice, and that time had been one too many.

"Turn it off," you said as you walked in, drying your hands on a towel. I stopped in my serenade to glance at you. Wow. You were talking to me again.

"I like this song," I retorted.

Your frown got deeper and you hung the towel over the armrest of a chair next to you. "Then shut up and listen to it. Your singing gets annoying."

I crossed my arms and gave a hurt look. "You never said anything before."

"I tolerated it because it kept you from talking to me," you replied defensively, not moving from your place. You didn't want to stand near me. It made you uncomfortable.

"Then why did you start talking to me?" I asked plainly. I didn't really care about the answer. I was just messing with your head.

You scowled once more, lines creasing your brow. "Because it just got to me too much tonight, all right?"

I simply shrugged and clicked the radio off. It was much more interesting talking to you anyway. "All right."

You snorted and turned to leave. But I didn't want to let you go so easily. I had turned off one form of entertainment; I wanted to move onto another.

"What? No thank you?" I said lightly, grinning. "I know it irritated you when I sarcastically said that I was amazed you thanked an android for returning your picture, but really, Trunks. Don't let that stop you. It's the polite thing to do." I paused to study you as you stopped in your tracks but didn't turn around. I added something that I knew would make you, "Didn't your mother raise you better?"

You did precisely what I thought you would-- spun around with a dangerous glint in your eyes and a shaking fist. "Don't even talk about her!"

My grin grew. "Now that I think about it, you never even thanked me for telling you where your mother's corpse probably was. How else would you have buried her before she was so decayed that she would fall to pieces when you picked her up? Without me, you wouldn't have found her in time. Don't I--"

"SHUT UP!" you screamed, eyes wide and trembling, palm raised at me and glowing with ki. Your enraged voice echoed throughout the house and the sunset bathed you in those angry red rays, tinting your long hair the same hue. "Shut up or I swear to God, I'll kill you right here and now!"

Did I ever tell you that, unlike many others, you looked enticing in your rage? I hadn't acknowledged it at the time, but when you got angry, you had a hint of pain to it that I could practically feel. Forget the expression of annoyance, anger was your best. You were a fire that dimmed the sunset. It was so clear and so pure of a hatred that I almost felt drunk just looking at you. I wanted to see how far I could take it.

I walked closer to you, taking silent steps. I stopped right in front of your powered hand, not caring if my clothes were singed. They had been a taken shirt and jeans set from you anyway. I stood there, gazing straight at your eyes, so close but still too far. I wanted to be in your face so your eyes couldn't hide a thing from me. I wanted to miss not a waver of pain or a glimmer of anger. I wanted to show you that I was stronger than you, even if you killed me.

"Tell me what you think of me," I said quietly with an emotionless face. You seemed surprised and your hand powered down as you lowered it.

"I hate you," you said flatly. I took a step forward. "I hate your smile." Another step. "I hate your eyes." Another. "I hate your voice." And another, until you had backed yourself against a wall to get away from me. I leaned in and put my hands on either side of you without making physical contact.

"More," I demanded lowly. Your eyes were staring dead into mine. It was so exhilarating. I hadn't played with anyone like that since you had trapped me in your house, and it reminded me how much I loved mind games. I was so close that I could almost feel you shaking and feel your unsteady breath on my skin. I felt high on power. I had power over you just then. "More."

"I hate how you move like you own the world!" you yelled, not wincing from me but still your voice broke a little. "I hate how you're so lazy and how you don't care about anything! I hate how you so casually disregard human life! I hate how you enjoy others' pain and how you're so arrogant and how you think you know everything and how... how you..." you trailed off, breath hitching and voice strained.

I intently watched as you swallowed nervously and closed your eyes, trying to pretend I wasn't there. I knew you felt that way about both my sister and me and you probably had waited so long to just explode. It wasn't enough to just kill us. You wanted to make it clear just how much you hated us, but you couldn't let go of your dignity and pride to do so... until then.

"I hate you..." you repeated, wobbling a little with your head bowed, hair hiding your face. It was dark now. Only the kitchen light was on and the shadows danced across you. For once, I wasn't paying attention to them. They paled in comparison to you. "I... hate..."

I smirked. You had given in. I was stronger, despite whatever power levels read. The only thing that was missing was the tears.

"You forgot one," I said, reaching a hand to tip your chin up. You needed to look at me and see my smirk. "You realized why you haven't killed me yet. Last night, it made you snap. The reason why you didn't kill me after you killed my sister, what made you hesitate when you looked at me. Say it. I want you to say it out loud."

You numbly shook your head, probably exhausted and drained from so much emotion coursing through you at one time. I gripped your chin tighter and your dark blue eyes slitted open, tiredly gazing at me.

"I hate..." you began slowly but became silent. I sighed and used my other hand to flick away your long lavender bangs. We stayed there for a good while, not an inched moved or a word spoken.

If you weren't going to say it, then I would.

"You hate me because," I whispered, "I'm all you have left."

~end of chapter three~