Author's Notes: Okay, you guys... kneel down... and PRAY... that you never get as nit-picky as me and have to rewrite things constantly. ^_^ But I suppose that's a good thing because, in the end, the story/chapter turns out better than it would have at first. I guess. I dunno. Anyway, this is an... I'm-not-entirely-pleased-with chapter. But damn it, Juunana's so hard to work with! Blast that boy! ... I love him. But even if his dark humor from time to time is refreshing, he's so... so... STUBBORN TO ACCEPT THE FACT THAT HE WANTS TO MAKE OUT WITH TRUNKS! ^_^ Well... I wish. *sigh* Takes a while to manipulate characters to your will.

Pairing: Mirai Juunana/Mirai Trunks, shounen-ai

"All You Have"

~chapter five~

by: Rosalyn Angel

Minutes. Hours. Days. What's the difference? What point is there? Why do we slowly count as time ticks by, or not even notice it pass us when we're preoccupied? Why do we measure how many years it will be until we die? Does it give us meaning to our lives by limiting it?

But what if we can't die? There would be no reason to count the seconds because it would be endless, forever. There would be no limit and whatever we need or want to do could always be put off until the next sunrise. There would be too much time then, and counting it would only prolong our suffering.

So if you can die, and you wish to count the seconds so you can make it all have significance... is that the meaning? Or would it only prolong our suffering?

Hm, there I go again. Mind wandering to something completely off-topic... but it doesn't matter. I don't think it ever did.

Let's continue on.

Caves are generally dark, damp and cold, which pretty much sums up how my cave was. In all the years I spent there, I hardly saw or felt any change. Maybe there were little eroded-away indents in the ground from the interminable dripping water of stalactites, but otherwise, not really. Either that was true, or I was ignoring my surroundings again and staring. I'm sure it was the latter.

You would think I would have been alert of every little noise around me, every chirp of a bird or rustle of leaves. Well, I wasn't. My senses were in tune to just my mind. I don't think I even truly saw the wall across from me, despite my eyes locked on it. All I could do was sit, and think. Sit, and think. And think. Then think some more. That much thinking isn't good for anyone.

Words and fragments flew by on the train of thought I was hitching a ride on. It wasn't a type of train with a pleasant scenery and smooth track; it was more like the wind burned my face because it was speeding and I had no cover and no operator to guide the vessel. It was out of control and hot with anger.

You. Trunks. Sister. Killed. Revenge. Those were the words accompanying me. Somewhere underneath them was an overwhelming sense of boredom. Like I said before, I couldn't go out and terrorize the civilians (hmm... memories) because you would undoubtably stand in my way. Besides, my sister was gone, so who would I play the game with? There was no point in tallying up my kills if I had no competition. It just didn't seem as fun anymore, even though humans disgusted me. But the fact was still there: you would stand in my way if I tried.

I didn't hate you before. It was more like you were a toy to amuse me, to bat around a few times and pick up later. But something curled around my insides (was that what your shame felt like?) and constricted like a snake. It was strange; I wasn't use to any real type of emotion besides a sadistic glee. First you made me feel odd by killing my sister, and then the snake came. My mind calculated: I was beginning to hate you for it all. You took away my sister, and made me bored. You took away my freedom, and made me feel.

You. Revenge. Cave. Dark. Cold.

The train sped up. I was trying to hang on...

I needed to get out of there.

... it derailed.

******

He is chuckling softly, the snow piling around him as he brushes it off his shoulders and head. He seems humored for a moment, but then the low snickering stops. He is once again dreadfully still, quiet, and calm. He, once again, does not acknowledge the snow, or at least tries not to.

******

I faintly remember lifting into the sky, my body vertical, and flying backwards as a final farewell to what had been my home for years. Although I couldn't call it that any more, like you couldn't with your house because of your mother being dead. I winced at the similarity then dismissed it with a shrug. Mockingly saluting the cave and my squeaky bed, I turned around and sped off.

I wondered what my destination was. I didn't really have one in mind; I just knew I needed to leave. There were too many memories in there of my sister, and memories make me think, and too much thinking isn't good for anyone. It never is... unless you think of a way to taunt your foe, which could be called an art to me.

In any case, I went through the possible solutions in my head. I would have hid out in some city and practiced my fighting skills, but that would have tempted me to kill one of those vile humans too much. I would have built a cabin in the country, but I needed shelter right away. Perhaps I could have stayed in the cave while I built it, but I didn't want to consider that.

I was running out of places. There was one left, nagging at the back of my head, but I kept pushing it back. I refused to return so soon, not when I had that snake squeezing me from the inside. I hadn't figured out how to extract my revenge yet; I wasn't even strong enough to defend myself. But I couldn't think of anywhere else.

Yeah, I could be stubborn and go off to build a cabin and be utterly uncomfortable for a few days, or I could hide away in an abandoned building and silently glare at each passing human... or I could smirk, eat your food, sing to your radio, irritate you with my taunts, and mess around in your room until you strangled me. That almost sounded pleasant compared to my former two choices. At least I would have a roof, a refrigerator, shampoo, and a toy. Maybe a brilliant idea of revenge would strike me as I watched you.

Then again, there was that lingering presence of words. "I'll kill you!" can make a person stay away for a while. "This really sucks," is a comical way to state my musings from then, and it's also very accurate.

In the end, I found my body turned in a direction I never thought I would go again. Soon enough I saw the familiar, dome-shaped house with the worn letters plastered on the side. I also took into consideration that it was night. It had been at sunset when I left, so I had either been gone for a few hours or a few days. By the way I found you, it was a few days.

I landed quietly on the dry grass, expecting to see you mulling around in your house, perhaps devouring food or hopefully something edible. But the moonlight betrayed my metal image and revealed a form curled up on his side and on the ground, right at my feet. I looked down and took a step back, mouth agape at my find.

Your hands were childishly lying around your face as you had your knees to your chest. Lavender fell across the sharp angles of your features, which were relaxed in a slumber, and your mouth was parted a tiny bit as you subconsciously breathed. You seemed to be shivering. I guessed you were in a fetal position simply because the night air chilled you. But that was only a guess.

I pressed my lips together, praying that you hadn't been stirred from sleep by my not-so graceful landing: flew down, snorted, plopped. Thankfully you didn't budge, so I took the liberty to collect information as to why you were there in the first place. Carefully peering over you since your back was to me (I didn't want to crunch the grass around us with footsteps or even risk the slight possibility of triggering your senses by floating), I observed your face more closely. Never failing to notice the blatant fact that your skin was tanner than before you had murdered Juuhachi, I peered through the dim light of stars to see a hint of glistening water on your cheeks.

And so, the dam had finally broken.

You hadn't woken up yet, and I didn't wish to do that for you in fear of a grumpy demi-Saiyan. I did a little camp-out without supplies and just lied on the grass, hands behind my head, and stared up. The sun had yet to rise, so I doubt it had been a long passage of time. I was wise enough to give you space in case you spontaneously rolled over, but still you didn't move. I mean, I flop all around when I sleep. Still, it was close enough to see the seams in your jacket.

I had grown tired of your back and ever-so stupidly (after all, I had tried to avoid it earlier) floated my way around you so I could lay myself there and be able to see your face. Remember: bored Juunana equals crazy and suicidal Juunana. Thankfully once again, no mishap occurred and I was allowed to lounge. Then I turned my head to the right, as I was use to doing to talk to Juuhachi, to see you sleeping. As I did just that, the snake tightened its hold on me, and I was reminded.

You. Sister. Killed. Revenge.

Your sad and innocent expression was deceiving, as if you had never hurt anyone. Well, you did. And you were completely, totally, and utterly off-guard. Everything clicked. That was why I was there, wasn't it? To get revenge? I had a chance right then, to simply shoot a ki blast straight through your heart and walk away. I had a chance...

I raised my hand to strike, having sat up, and then paused. There was a stiff piece of paper protectively held in the cup of your hands I hadn't seen before. But I got a better look at it, and everything that had clicked slid out of place.

It was the photo of Gohan, your mother, and you smiling. I hadn't seen your smile yet. Even after your tears dried, there was still something I could get from you. Wouldn't it be a shame if I had wasted such an interesting creature such as you when there was still something to be gained? My curiosity took control again, and I wondered. Everything else blanked out.

What would you look like if you smiled?

I stood up, ambition dulled. I could still get revenge later, after I quenched my undying curiosity. Besides, if I had kept it, it would have surely killed me. I was like that, stupid decisions and all. I never told you though, how close you had been to death that night. It would have been so easy.

I briskly walked to your house, suddenly too distracted by my mind to care about any noise I was making. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, went inside, and shut it. Maybe you would wake and find a nice androidish surprise in your living room, singing along to the radio. But I didn't feel like doing that, so I breezed past the said room and simply glanced at it.

The metal wristband still lied in the same place you had thrown it to, with a little dent in its circle. I smirked, remembering the adrenaline rush I had had earlier. It had been so exhilarating, and your eyes... I wanted to see them like that again. Sometime. I sighed and went to my assigned room, deciding to retire for a bit. Like the band, it was still the same way. Apparently you didn't want to touch either one.

Pause. Rewind.

"I hate you!"

Chug-a chug chug, went the train of thought.

A cruel smile slithered onto my face. I was, right then, glad I hadn't killed you a few minutes before, because I had a better idea that would profit me more than a simple murder. It was a type of revenge that would last for months, unlike the seconds of splattering your blood. It bugged me that I hadn't thought of it earlier, especially when I had been doing it all along.

I would just stay there and do as I pleased and my presence, like it had before, would grate on your sanity. And I would grin and wave and go on my way, snickering to myself as I saw your fists shaking with anger. And I would sing and catch you cursing yourself out of the corner of my eye. Seeing you in those states was more of a fulfilling revenge than bloodshed would be.

Besides, if you died, who would I talk to? Who would I taunt? Those humans were too weak; they disgusted me. But you, o' beautifully hateful one, would stand as tall as you could in front of me and battle back with words until you once again snapped, and I would be able to see that lost look in your eyes again. And, once again, I would be able to say, "I've won."

I realized I loved that tension and cure for boredom too much to let it slide. It was simply too entertaining, and during it all, I would be hurting you slowly, very slowly, very painfully. Now the mind battle was not just a game, but a real competition. I had a purpose. Maybe you would kill me. Maybe not. I was grinning too much to care about trivial things like that. I had a house and food, a toy and prey, and I had revenge. I was content to be there, to not be bored.

I think my sister would have been happy for me. I guess. She probably wanted me to die so she wouldn't be alone in hell. I heard they had no shopping centers down there.

So, my mind made up (and still slightly frustrated I had to go through the trouble of leaving just to sort my deranged self out), I yawned and stretched. Time to recharge.

When I lied down, I faintly noted that the bed didn't squeak.

~end of chapter five~