Disclaimer: I don't own DragonBallZ.
Reviews! They're so encouraging.
"We figured as much." Bulma was on the phone with Chi-Chi while Vegeta and Trunks finished their breakfast. "Yeah. Uh-huh. Alright, that'd be nice. We'll see you later, then."
As soon as the phone was set on its hook, Bulma went to gather the now empty plates and put them away in the dishwasher. "I hope you don't mind," she said, looking mostly at Vegeta, "but I told Chi-Chi we'd go to visit them."
Vegeta didn't reply, but it was obvious that he didn't mind whether or not he went, though it seemed more of a veneer of indifference.
"So I'm just going to get ready," she finished, and headed upstairs to reapply her makeup.
Vegeta glanced across the table at his son. His hands seemed to be gripping the table rather forcefully, as if he were afraid it would fly out of his grasp. "If you don't mind," he said, not looking at Vegeta, "I'd like to stay home." His face wore a rather frustrated and confusing expression.
Vegeta got out of his chair and went upstairs to find his jacket while Trunks sat, thinking. He tried to keep his breathing smooth and slow, but his chest felt as if it wanted to rise and fall with a rapid rhythm. He gripped the table even harsher with his fingers, putting splintered dents into it.
When Bulma came back down, she looked at Trunks, who was still sitting at his place at the breakfast table.
"What? You're not going to get ready?" she asked.
"I...think I'll just stay home," he said. "I'm tired."
"Don't you want to see Goten?"
"What?" he rounded harshly on his mother, who was stunned at his sudden hostility. He was standing, looking down at her, panting. "Sorry." He moved away into the next room.
Deciding that it was a better idea not to ask what had upset him so much, she walked out of the house with careful stepping, as if she didn't want to make a wrong move.
Trunks was left in the other room with his left arm pulsing, his hand clenched into a tight fist, and his face stern with anger. The pain that persistently remained permanent inside his arm now seemed to have turned into an itching, a type of desire to damage something beyond repair. His mind raced through thoughts at impossible speed. I don't need to see Goten, he thought. Why would she ask such a damn, stupid question? Why would I want to see him?
. . . . . .
Goten sat on his bed, cradling and nursing his foot. He'd tried to walk normally on it for the past few days since he'd returned, but it was only getting worse. Now he'd started to bleed, tiny streams pouring from his leg, and even more blood oozing from the soles of his foot. He put his leg and foot back into the pan of water he'd filled when his parents weren't looking. Right away it seemed to feel less tense with the soothing temperature of the frigid liquid. Eventually he wrapped a cloth around it to let both water and blood soak in.
After cleaning up the mess, he tossed the red cloth in the laundry room. Chi-Chi passed at that moment with a load of dirty laundry. Bending down, she picked up the cloth for him by a single, clean corner, and stared at it. The oddity of it sank into her mind for only an instant, until she decided to shrug it off.
But as she started to put more of the laundry into the washer, she came across countless rags that were all stained crimson.
When she'd finished with the laundry, she made her way over to Gohan's house, hoping he wasn't too busy at present.
She knocked politely on the front door of the tiny, dome-shaped building. Videl opened it at that moment to smile at her mother-in-law. "Oh, hi, Chi- Chi. Come on in."
"Thanks. Is Gohan here?"
"He's upstairs. I'll go get him. Wait here."
. . . . . .
Goten, wanting to escape the suspicious glares of his mother and father, went back to Gohan's.
When he entered, he glanced at his older brother, who was sitting at the table with his nose barely two inches away from a thick book while he took notes down. He gazed up at Goten, and then shut the book. "Hey. What's up?"
Goten sat down immediately from across his brother, hastily hiding his right leg in the shadows.
"Just came to say hi," he replied.
Gohan pondered for several minutes. What was the best way to do this...? "So, you doing alright?"
Goten nodded.
Perhaps the best method of interrogation was not to be subtle, Gohan considered. "What's wrong?" he asked, leaning his forehead into the palm of his hand, while his elbow sat on the table.
"What?" Goten asked.
"Mom says you're hurt. So what's the matter?"
Damn, Goten thought. Why can't they stop breathing down my neck?
Without thinking, he scooted his chair away to let Gohan stare at the blood- saturated leg of his pants. It was so drenched that he could see scarlet droplets dripping onto Goten's shoe.
"There you go," he snarled. "But don't bother saying I should get help. I already tried everything I could think of."
"So what do you plan on doing now?" Gohan took his glasses off and set them on the table.
"Well, I treat it, even though I can't cure it. Water seems to temporarily halt the flow."
"Water?"
"Ice water, actually." He sat still with his arms crossed. Now the blood was dripping onto Gohan's carpet. The blotch grew larger and larger with each drop.
There's chapter four for you. Review!
Reviews! They're so encouraging.
"We figured as much." Bulma was on the phone with Chi-Chi while Vegeta and Trunks finished their breakfast. "Yeah. Uh-huh. Alright, that'd be nice. We'll see you later, then."
As soon as the phone was set on its hook, Bulma went to gather the now empty plates and put them away in the dishwasher. "I hope you don't mind," she said, looking mostly at Vegeta, "but I told Chi-Chi we'd go to visit them."
Vegeta didn't reply, but it was obvious that he didn't mind whether or not he went, though it seemed more of a veneer of indifference.
"So I'm just going to get ready," she finished, and headed upstairs to reapply her makeup.
Vegeta glanced across the table at his son. His hands seemed to be gripping the table rather forcefully, as if he were afraid it would fly out of his grasp. "If you don't mind," he said, not looking at Vegeta, "I'd like to stay home." His face wore a rather frustrated and confusing expression.
Vegeta got out of his chair and went upstairs to find his jacket while Trunks sat, thinking. He tried to keep his breathing smooth and slow, but his chest felt as if it wanted to rise and fall with a rapid rhythm. He gripped the table even harsher with his fingers, putting splintered dents into it.
When Bulma came back down, she looked at Trunks, who was still sitting at his place at the breakfast table.
"What? You're not going to get ready?" she asked.
"I...think I'll just stay home," he said. "I'm tired."
"Don't you want to see Goten?"
"What?" he rounded harshly on his mother, who was stunned at his sudden hostility. He was standing, looking down at her, panting. "Sorry." He moved away into the next room.
Deciding that it was a better idea not to ask what had upset him so much, she walked out of the house with careful stepping, as if she didn't want to make a wrong move.
Trunks was left in the other room with his left arm pulsing, his hand clenched into a tight fist, and his face stern with anger. The pain that persistently remained permanent inside his arm now seemed to have turned into an itching, a type of desire to damage something beyond repair. His mind raced through thoughts at impossible speed. I don't need to see Goten, he thought. Why would she ask such a damn, stupid question? Why would I want to see him?
. . . . . .
Goten sat on his bed, cradling and nursing his foot. He'd tried to walk normally on it for the past few days since he'd returned, but it was only getting worse. Now he'd started to bleed, tiny streams pouring from his leg, and even more blood oozing from the soles of his foot. He put his leg and foot back into the pan of water he'd filled when his parents weren't looking. Right away it seemed to feel less tense with the soothing temperature of the frigid liquid. Eventually he wrapped a cloth around it to let both water and blood soak in.
After cleaning up the mess, he tossed the red cloth in the laundry room. Chi-Chi passed at that moment with a load of dirty laundry. Bending down, she picked up the cloth for him by a single, clean corner, and stared at it. The oddity of it sank into her mind for only an instant, until she decided to shrug it off.
But as she started to put more of the laundry into the washer, she came across countless rags that were all stained crimson.
When she'd finished with the laundry, she made her way over to Gohan's house, hoping he wasn't too busy at present.
She knocked politely on the front door of the tiny, dome-shaped building. Videl opened it at that moment to smile at her mother-in-law. "Oh, hi, Chi- Chi. Come on in."
"Thanks. Is Gohan here?"
"He's upstairs. I'll go get him. Wait here."
. . . . . .
Goten, wanting to escape the suspicious glares of his mother and father, went back to Gohan's.
When he entered, he glanced at his older brother, who was sitting at the table with his nose barely two inches away from a thick book while he took notes down. He gazed up at Goten, and then shut the book. "Hey. What's up?"
Goten sat down immediately from across his brother, hastily hiding his right leg in the shadows.
"Just came to say hi," he replied.
Gohan pondered for several minutes. What was the best way to do this...? "So, you doing alright?"
Goten nodded.
Perhaps the best method of interrogation was not to be subtle, Gohan considered. "What's wrong?" he asked, leaning his forehead into the palm of his hand, while his elbow sat on the table.
"What?" Goten asked.
"Mom says you're hurt. So what's the matter?"
Damn, Goten thought. Why can't they stop breathing down my neck?
Without thinking, he scooted his chair away to let Gohan stare at the blood- saturated leg of his pants. It was so drenched that he could see scarlet droplets dripping onto Goten's shoe.
"There you go," he snarled. "But don't bother saying I should get help. I already tried everything I could think of."
"So what do you plan on doing now?" Gohan took his glasses off and set them on the table.
"Well, I treat it, even though I can't cure it. Water seems to temporarily halt the flow."
"Water?"
"Ice water, actually." He sat still with his arms crossed. Now the blood was dripping onto Gohan's carpet. The blotch grew larger and larger with each drop.
There's chapter four for you. Review!