Scars – Chapter 06
Mirai Trunks, who'd managed to sleep through the demolition of his long mane, was roused by the creak that the door to his room made as Vegeta pushed it open to see if he was awake yet. He made a small sound and scrunched his eyes shut, feeling confused because he wasn't sure where he was. That is, his body didn't recognize the peaceful surroundings, and somehow that message was translated by his brain into the belief that he was dreaming. Not wanting to disturb the pleasant dream, Trunks hid his face under his pillow and tried to make himself stay asleep.
Vegeta peered into the room, which was washed in bright morning light. He spotted his future brat on the bed and took that as an invitation to walk in. He was somewhat puzzled the night before when he opened the door to find Mirai Trunks on the other side, but after spending most of the night awake and puzzling over the young man, he had concluded that perhaps he had a responsibility towards him.
Now, it was a big step indeed for Vegeta to go from allowing the brat to stay under his roof, to accepting him as a son. Trunks had already proven that he was a strong fighter, of that Vegeta had no doubts. But he felt that the boy lacked in character, he seemed weak and whiny, and downright fruity. Had any of that changed? Well... from the short speech he'd received from Mirai Trunks concerning the events that had caused him to run back to this time, Vegeta thought the answer was a definite 'no.'
He folded his arms, intent on building some character in the boy. "Brat, wake up. I know you're awake, I saw you move when I opened the door."
Mirai Trunks was startled when Vegeta's voice came from very close to the bed. He'd thought his father was standing in the doorway still. He rolled over and blinked his blue eyes at Vegeta. He was unsure of what to say, feeling awkward. Seeing his father's face made him think of his late mother. After all, the only snippets of proof that he was the descendant of the Saiyajin prince before he'd come to this time, were things that his mother told or showed him. He'd also heard a few things from Gohan, but most of them were unpleasant. In fact, most everything he knew about Vegeta was unpleasant, but he refused to believe what he was told when he had the opportunity to find things out for himself now.
There was a long moment in which neither man spoke. Vegeta was pondering over Trunks' hair, now that he could see the obvious mutilation, and Trunks was greatly intimidated by Vegeta's mere presence. He was also filled with a sense of awe, a feeling he always got when he was around Vegeta. In fact, The prince's very presence made Trunks weak in the knees simply from all the emotion it evoked in his heart and mind.
Vegeta broke the silence when he realized that his son was staring at him like a lobotomy patient. "Get up, your double will eat your portion of breakfast if you don't get a move on."
"Yes Father, thank you." Trunks replied obediently, kicking the tangled sheet off himself and immediately following the stern order given.
Vegeta left the room quickly in order to escape the strange boy, who made him very uncomfortable with all of his staring and quiet compliance. He'd would have thought that such admiration from his own spawn would be a good thing, but he was hating it more by the minute.
'Hmph... that boy...hn. What in Hell's name did he do to his hair? If he is neurotic and fidgety all the time I'll kill him myself. All I need is another nut case living under this roof. The woman is plenty already.' Thought the grumpy prince as he headed for the kitchen, where eleven-year- old Trunks was looking like the cat that ate the canary.
"What's got you so excited, boy? I would've thought you were through with brilliant ideas after that awful pie you and Kakarot's brat concocted yesterday." Vegeta snorted at Trunks, who looked guiltily up at him.
"Nothing Dad... hey I thought our pie was really great! Goten sure liked it... *grin* Today I'm gonna take Goten with me to-
"Quit yammering and eat."
The prince cut the eye contact and sat at the table, ready to demand his breakfast when Bunni placed a huge plate of delicious looking food on the table in front of him. He was quite pleased with this, and although he nearly thanked the capricious woman for her promptness, he settled for hunkering down and digging into the steaming plate of food.
Bunni smiled excitedly and scampered off to do whatever it is that nutty old people do all day, leaving more food waiting on the stovetop for the other Trunks.
Young Trunks hid his displeasure at being brushed off by his father yet again. He just didn't understand. It was an unsolvable problem to him; Vegeta was never happy with him. Even when he became a Super Saiyajin in front of his dad for the first time, he was petulant, though he did take him to the park, which Trunks never forgot. Considering it never happened again, he didn't think he would be likely to forget it anytime soon. That was ok though. Trunks knew he was too old to go to the park anymore. He could build his own park if he wanted, and it'd be way cooler. But still, he hadn't been lucky enough to do very many things that impressed Vegeta in his short life. He recalled his father telling him that he was proud of him before he destroyed himself in attempt to kill Buu. He felt warmer inside, though he wondered if Vegeta still felt that way.
Well, now he had someone new to play with, and what was cool was that it was him only older. That meant that the other Trunks could teach him lotsa cool stuff; they probably shared the same interests –of course they did! He bet Mirai Trunks liked computers and he was smart and they could play robots and hack government files together and everything! It'd be great! Trunks got another canary munching look on his face as he continued with his meal, feeling light-hearted and happy.
++++++++++++++
Upstairs, Mirai Trunks was making his bed. He threw the comforter up over the bed and let it fall neatly into place over the carefully placed sheets and pillows, but he stopped his actions suddenly, realizing that something felt very strange. His eyes widened, and his hands went to his head, specifically to his hair. He felt many uneven clumps of hair where there used to be long tresses. Confusion filled the man and he went to look at himself in the bathroom mirror.
Mirai trunks had never really paid his hair much attention. He wasn't vain, he really never looked in the mirror at all to be perfectly honest. But he did make sure that he cut his long hair with a knife or something whenever it was getting past his shoulders. Now, all of a sudden, it was... SHORT! He ran his fingers though the softness, noting the utter lack of planning that the hack-job revealed. He twisted around to see the back, which was also short. All-in-all, he was more confused than anything else. Had he done this to himself? Had someone come into his room and done it in his sleep? Where was the rest of his hair? Was someone making a voodoo doll out of it or something?
Trunks fished in his pocket for a hair elastic and tried to tie the hair up. He could only get a gimpy looking little ponytail, which left bangs hanging in his face. Unsure of how to proceed, he slipped the elastic back into his pocket and looked around for scissors. He found a pair in the cupboard under the sink and applied them to his mutilated mane in attempt to fix the damage.
Needless to say, by the time Mirai Trunks was done, his hair looked more like Gohan's than his own, only it didn't stick up because it was so fine. He shrugged, figuring that he would just have to deal with it. Besides, the smell of food was making his stomach growl in anticipation of breakfast. He left the scissors on the counter and turned the light out in the bathroom, heading downstairs to eat.
Mirai Trunks, who'd managed to sleep through the demolition of his long mane, was roused by the creak that the door to his room made as Vegeta pushed it open to see if he was awake yet. He made a small sound and scrunched his eyes shut, feeling confused because he wasn't sure where he was. That is, his body didn't recognize the peaceful surroundings, and somehow that message was translated by his brain into the belief that he was dreaming. Not wanting to disturb the pleasant dream, Trunks hid his face under his pillow and tried to make himself stay asleep.
Vegeta peered into the room, which was washed in bright morning light. He spotted his future brat on the bed and took that as an invitation to walk in. He was somewhat puzzled the night before when he opened the door to find Mirai Trunks on the other side, but after spending most of the night awake and puzzling over the young man, he had concluded that perhaps he had a responsibility towards him.
Now, it was a big step indeed for Vegeta to go from allowing the brat to stay under his roof, to accepting him as a son. Trunks had already proven that he was a strong fighter, of that Vegeta had no doubts. But he felt that the boy lacked in character, he seemed weak and whiny, and downright fruity. Had any of that changed? Well... from the short speech he'd received from Mirai Trunks concerning the events that had caused him to run back to this time, Vegeta thought the answer was a definite 'no.'
He folded his arms, intent on building some character in the boy. "Brat, wake up. I know you're awake, I saw you move when I opened the door."
Mirai Trunks was startled when Vegeta's voice came from very close to the bed. He'd thought his father was standing in the doorway still. He rolled over and blinked his blue eyes at Vegeta. He was unsure of what to say, feeling awkward. Seeing his father's face made him think of his late mother. After all, the only snippets of proof that he was the descendant of the Saiyajin prince before he'd come to this time, were things that his mother told or showed him. He'd also heard a few things from Gohan, but most of them were unpleasant. In fact, most everything he knew about Vegeta was unpleasant, but he refused to believe what he was told when he had the opportunity to find things out for himself now.
There was a long moment in which neither man spoke. Vegeta was pondering over Trunks' hair, now that he could see the obvious mutilation, and Trunks was greatly intimidated by Vegeta's mere presence. He was also filled with a sense of awe, a feeling he always got when he was around Vegeta. In fact, The prince's very presence made Trunks weak in the knees simply from all the emotion it evoked in his heart and mind.
Vegeta broke the silence when he realized that his son was staring at him like a lobotomy patient. "Get up, your double will eat your portion of breakfast if you don't get a move on."
"Yes Father, thank you." Trunks replied obediently, kicking the tangled sheet off himself and immediately following the stern order given.
Vegeta left the room quickly in order to escape the strange boy, who made him very uncomfortable with all of his staring and quiet compliance. He'd would have thought that such admiration from his own spawn would be a good thing, but he was hating it more by the minute.
'Hmph... that boy...hn. What in Hell's name did he do to his hair? If he is neurotic and fidgety all the time I'll kill him myself. All I need is another nut case living under this roof. The woman is plenty already.' Thought the grumpy prince as he headed for the kitchen, where eleven-year- old Trunks was looking like the cat that ate the canary.
"What's got you so excited, boy? I would've thought you were through with brilliant ideas after that awful pie you and Kakarot's brat concocted yesterday." Vegeta snorted at Trunks, who looked guiltily up at him.
"Nothing Dad... hey I thought our pie was really great! Goten sure liked it... *grin* Today I'm gonna take Goten with me to-
"Quit yammering and eat."
The prince cut the eye contact and sat at the table, ready to demand his breakfast when Bunni placed a huge plate of delicious looking food on the table in front of him. He was quite pleased with this, and although he nearly thanked the capricious woman for her promptness, he settled for hunkering down and digging into the steaming plate of food.
Bunni smiled excitedly and scampered off to do whatever it is that nutty old people do all day, leaving more food waiting on the stovetop for the other Trunks.
Young Trunks hid his displeasure at being brushed off by his father yet again. He just didn't understand. It was an unsolvable problem to him; Vegeta was never happy with him. Even when he became a Super Saiyajin in front of his dad for the first time, he was petulant, though he did take him to the park, which Trunks never forgot. Considering it never happened again, he didn't think he would be likely to forget it anytime soon. That was ok though. Trunks knew he was too old to go to the park anymore. He could build his own park if he wanted, and it'd be way cooler. But still, he hadn't been lucky enough to do very many things that impressed Vegeta in his short life. He recalled his father telling him that he was proud of him before he destroyed himself in attempt to kill Buu. He felt warmer inside, though he wondered if Vegeta still felt that way.
Well, now he had someone new to play with, and what was cool was that it was him only older. That meant that the other Trunks could teach him lotsa cool stuff; they probably shared the same interests –of course they did! He bet Mirai Trunks liked computers and he was smart and they could play robots and hack government files together and everything! It'd be great! Trunks got another canary munching look on his face as he continued with his meal, feeling light-hearted and happy.
++++++++++++++
Upstairs, Mirai Trunks was making his bed. He threw the comforter up over the bed and let it fall neatly into place over the carefully placed sheets and pillows, but he stopped his actions suddenly, realizing that something felt very strange. His eyes widened, and his hands went to his head, specifically to his hair. He felt many uneven clumps of hair where there used to be long tresses. Confusion filled the man and he went to look at himself in the bathroom mirror.
Mirai trunks had never really paid his hair much attention. He wasn't vain, he really never looked in the mirror at all to be perfectly honest. But he did make sure that he cut his long hair with a knife or something whenever it was getting past his shoulders. Now, all of a sudden, it was... SHORT! He ran his fingers though the softness, noting the utter lack of planning that the hack-job revealed. He twisted around to see the back, which was also short. All-in-all, he was more confused than anything else. Had he done this to himself? Had someone come into his room and done it in his sleep? Where was the rest of his hair? Was someone making a voodoo doll out of it or something?
Trunks fished in his pocket for a hair elastic and tried to tie the hair up. He could only get a gimpy looking little ponytail, which left bangs hanging in his face. Unsure of how to proceed, he slipped the elastic back into his pocket and looked around for scissors. He found a pair in the cupboard under the sink and applied them to his mutilated mane in attempt to fix the damage.
Needless to say, by the time Mirai Trunks was done, his hair looked more like Gohan's than his own, only it didn't stick up because it was so fine. He shrugged, figuring that he would just have to deal with it. Besides, the smell of food was making his stomach growl in anticipation of breakfast. He left the scissors on the counter and turned the light out in the bathroom, heading downstairs to eat.