Scars - Chapter 04
While Goku was puzzling over why his eldest son so despised him, Mirai Trunks had his face washed in fresh morning sunlight. A small content smile graced his lips. His long hair was splayed haphazardly over the cool feather pillow, and he had a sheet tangled around his legs and draped over the lower part of his torso. He was breathing slowly in his undisturbed slumber, clearly enjoying his long rest. He hadn't slept in a fresh clean bed with cushy pillows and breezy sheets for many years.
On the other side of the door to Mirai Trunks' temporary room, stood his eleven-year-old counterpart. This Trunks' hair was cropped short in his classic bowl-cut. His face was harsh, looking distinctly Vegeta-esque as he glared with immense curiosity at the door behind which he felt a large power. The ki was identical to his own, and so he had already figured out who was behind the door, but he was itching to know what was going on. Why was the other Trunks here? In his house? Trunks was never one to wait around for answers to come and smack him on the ass, so he opened the door and stepped into the room, lowering his ki so that his family wouldn't come and tell him to leave the other Trunks alone. He pushed the door gingerly shut behind him and stood against it, peering about the room.
Of course his eyes immediately landed upon the figure that slept on his back in the huge bed. Trunks inhaled through his nose, smelling that his other self was dusty and in need of a shower. He smelled kind of strange... even though they were the same person, the other Trunks' scent was different. Young Trunks chalked this up to Mirai Trunks' age. Of course the boy had read all kinds of books, he knew that people changed when they got older and that their bodies did different things and produced different chemicals, which of course would make the older Trunks smell a little differently than he himself did.
He took another breath, padding over the plush carpet towards the sleeping man. His ever-alert eyes slowly took in the sight of 'himself' as he might look in several years. He felt the childish need to touch the other Trunks, but he forced it down with his father's stern teachings concerning the importance of self-control ringing in his ears.
'Man he's big... I'm gonna be taller than Dad... cool.' Trunks smirked somewhat triumphantly at this realization. 'But where'd he get all those scars? Eww... that must be from all his fights with the androids. Fuck that's gross... wonder if he thinks so too?' Trunks' hands came up to rest on the edge of the bed, the urge to touch that which intrigued him surging once more.
Trunks focused on one tan and muscled arm which rested over Mirai Trunks' stomach, holding a loose fistful of billowy white sheets. He leaned closer to study the scores of pale lines from various scrapes and slices and blasts. Trunks leaned closer until his breath tickled the fine lavender hairs on his double's arm, causing the strange man to shift in his sleep and moan quietly. Trunks snapped back into a standing position, hoping that he wouldn't be caught yet. He wanted to look more before Mirai Trunks woke up and found him out.
When he felt sure that the other him would continue to sleep peacefully, young Trunks moved back into his studious position leaning over the edge of the bed to look at 'himself.' This time he studied the older man's face. He noted the yucky slices that had healed into scars on Trunks' face, wrinkling his nose and feeling very glad that it wasn't him personally who'd been in that other timeline. His eyes wandered over the sleeping man's hair, which Trunks felt looked stupid and girly because it was so long. An idea came to him and he left the bedside, heading back to the doorway.
A soft click marked the door opening. Trunks left it that way and darted to his own room to get some scissors. He returned in only seconds, shutting the door to the guest room behind himself once more, continuing to use extreme caution in his movements, so as not to wake the man in the bed or alert his family of what he was doing.
With the scissors in hand, Trunks walked back to the side of the bed and frowned at the large creature in it. He didn't want him to wake up halfway through his haircut, that wouldn't be any fun at all. Trunks gathered a handful of light lavender in his fist and cut it short. He threw the cut hair into the wastebasket beside the bed. He grabbed more hair and repeated the actions, until all that remained was the hair that Trunks was sleeping on top of. A frown settled on young Trunks' face and he put the scissors down, wondering hw he could get the man to roll over without waking him up.
The young genius grinned and ran around to the other side to the bed, crouching near the foot of it and grabbing hold of the sheets. He slowly and carefully pulled them to one side in hopes that Trunks would scurry closer to them to stay warm. He watched, frowning when there was no reaction from the man. A snort of frustration came from him and he glared in thought at his older self. 'You big dummy... roll over damnit!'
Trunks crawled to the foot of the bed, peering at one of Trunks' feet, which was sticking out thanks to his movement of the sheets. He stayed low and kept his energy low, sliding one arm over the mattress towards the innocent and unsuspecting foot. He tickled the sole of Mirai Trunks' foot until the half-saiyajin reacted.
With bated breath, Trunks watched his plan fall neatly into place. The older Trunks was disturbed and he bent his leg. The he rolled onto his side, mumbling soft incoherencies under his breath and returning to his relaxed sleep without waking. Young Trunks had to cover his mouth to keep from making a noise of pleasure at the success of his little plan. He crawled back to the head of the bed and took the scissors in his hands once more, carefully snipping the length off of Mirai Trunks' hair. He crossed his arms Vegeta style and snorted in triumph at his double. 'Now that's better... he doesn't look like a girl anymore. Hmm... maybe I should wake him up now? I wonder if he's cool or not... well if he's me then he must be... but I hate it when people wake me up... *frown* like when mom gets me up too early... hmph. I think I'll let him sleep.'
Eleven-year-old Trunks took his scissors after throwing the rest of the long lavender hairs in the garbage and left the room, closing the door over behind him. He ran down the hall and smacked straight into his father, which halted his movements abruptly and caused him to fall on his ass. He blinked in confused surprise and looked up at Vegeta, who seemed just as surprised to have run into Trunks.
"Morning Dad." Trunks tried, climbing to his feet. Vegeta glowered at him.
"Shut up brat... watch where you're going. Your mother has breakfast ready downstairs." Vegeta walked around the still somewhat dazed little boy and continued down the hall. Trunks frowned at Vegeta's back, he still couldn't understand why his dad hated him so much. He headed back to his room to put the scissors away, and then down the stairs for breakfast.
While Goku was puzzling over why his eldest son so despised him, Mirai Trunks had his face washed in fresh morning sunlight. A small content smile graced his lips. His long hair was splayed haphazardly over the cool feather pillow, and he had a sheet tangled around his legs and draped over the lower part of his torso. He was breathing slowly in his undisturbed slumber, clearly enjoying his long rest. He hadn't slept in a fresh clean bed with cushy pillows and breezy sheets for many years.
On the other side of the door to Mirai Trunks' temporary room, stood his eleven-year-old counterpart. This Trunks' hair was cropped short in his classic bowl-cut. His face was harsh, looking distinctly Vegeta-esque as he glared with immense curiosity at the door behind which he felt a large power. The ki was identical to his own, and so he had already figured out who was behind the door, but he was itching to know what was going on. Why was the other Trunks here? In his house? Trunks was never one to wait around for answers to come and smack him on the ass, so he opened the door and stepped into the room, lowering his ki so that his family wouldn't come and tell him to leave the other Trunks alone. He pushed the door gingerly shut behind him and stood against it, peering about the room.
Of course his eyes immediately landed upon the figure that slept on his back in the huge bed. Trunks inhaled through his nose, smelling that his other self was dusty and in need of a shower. He smelled kind of strange... even though they were the same person, the other Trunks' scent was different. Young Trunks chalked this up to Mirai Trunks' age. Of course the boy had read all kinds of books, he knew that people changed when they got older and that their bodies did different things and produced different chemicals, which of course would make the older Trunks smell a little differently than he himself did.
He took another breath, padding over the plush carpet towards the sleeping man. His ever-alert eyes slowly took in the sight of 'himself' as he might look in several years. He felt the childish need to touch the other Trunks, but he forced it down with his father's stern teachings concerning the importance of self-control ringing in his ears.
'Man he's big... I'm gonna be taller than Dad... cool.' Trunks smirked somewhat triumphantly at this realization. 'But where'd he get all those scars? Eww... that must be from all his fights with the androids. Fuck that's gross... wonder if he thinks so too?' Trunks' hands came up to rest on the edge of the bed, the urge to touch that which intrigued him surging once more.
Trunks focused on one tan and muscled arm which rested over Mirai Trunks' stomach, holding a loose fistful of billowy white sheets. He leaned closer to study the scores of pale lines from various scrapes and slices and blasts. Trunks leaned closer until his breath tickled the fine lavender hairs on his double's arm, causing the strange man to shift in his sleep and moan quietly. Trunks snapped back into a standing position, hoping that he wouldn't be caught yet. He wanted to look more before Mirai Trunks woke up and found him out.
When he felt sure that the other him would continue to sleep peacefully, young Trunks moved back into his studious position leaning over the edge of the bed to look at 'himself.' This time he studied the older man's face. He noted the yucky slices that had healed into scars on Trunks' face, wrinkling his nose and feeling very glad that it wasn't him personally who'd been in that other timeline. His eyes wandered over the sleeping man's hair, which Trunks felt looked stupid and girly because it was so long. An idea came to him and he left the bedside, heading back to the doorway.
A soft click marked the door opening. Trunks left it that way and darted to his own room to get some scissors. He returned in only seconds, shutting the door to the guest room behind himself once more, continuing to use extreme caution in his movements, so as not to wake the man in the bed or alert his family of what he was doing.
With the scissors in hand, Trunks walked back to the side of the bed and frowned at the large creature in it. He didn't want him to wake up halfway through his haircut, that wouldn't be any fun at all. Trunks gathered a handful of light lavender in his fist and cut it short. He threw the cut hair into the wastebasket beside the bed. He grabbed more hair and repeated the actions, until all that remained was the hair that Trunks was sleeping on top of. A frown settled on young Trunks' face and he put the scissors down, wondering hw he could get the man to roll over without waking him up.
The young genius grinned and ran around to the other side to the bed, crouching near the foot of it and grabbing hold of the sheets. He slowly and carefully pulled them to one side in hopes that Trunks would scurry closer to them to stay warm. He watched, frowning when there was no reaction from the man. A snort of frustration came from him and he glared in thought at his older self. 'You big dummy... roll over damnit!'
Trunks crawled to the foot of the bed, peering at one of Trunks' feet, which was sticking out thanks to his movement of the sheets. He stayed low and kept his energy low, sliding one arm over the mattress towards the innocent and unsuspecting foot. He tickled the sole of Mirai Trunks' foot until the half-saiyajin reacted.
With bated breath, Trunks watched his plan fall neatly into place. The older Trunks was disturbed and he bent his leg. The he rolled onto his side, mumbling soft incoherencies under his breath and returning to his relaxed sleep without waking. Young Trunks had to cover his mouth to keep from making a noise of pleasure at the success of his little plan. He crawled back to the head of the bed and took the scissors in his hands once more, carefully snipping the length off of Mirai Trunks' hair. He crossed his arms Vegeta style and snorted in triumph at his double. 'Now that's better... he doesn't look like a girl anymore. Hmm... maybe I should wake him up now? I wonder if he's cool or not... well if he's me then he must be... but I hate it when people wake me up... *frown* like when mom gets me up too early... hmph. I think I'll let him sleep.'
Eleven-year-old Trunks took his scissors after throwing the rest of the long lavender hairs in the garbage and left the room, closing the door over behind him. He ran down the hall and smacked straight into his father, which halted his movements abruptly and caused him to fall on his ass. He blinked in confused surprise and looked up at Vegeta, who seemed just as surprised to have run into Trunks.
"Morning Dad." Trunks tried, climbing to his feet. Vegeta glowered at him.
"Shut up brat... watch where you're going. Your mother has breakfast ready downstairs." Vegeta walked around the still somewhat dazed little boy and continued down the hall. Trunks frowned at Vegeta's back, he still couldn't understand why his dad hated him so much. He headed back to his room to put the scissors away, and then down the stairs for breakfast.