Trunks sudden outburst scared Bulma. Excusing herself quickly, she ran after her son, calling after him. Her parents watched her until she disappeared behind a corner, and then turned their eyes to Vegeta, who also was looking at Bulma. He, too, looked at them, shrugged, and continued eating his food.

Mr. Briefs and Mrs. Briefs looked at each other uncomfortably, not sure on how to react to Vegeta's indifference to his own son's trouble. It was Mrs. Briefs who spoke first. "Vegeta, dear, shouldn't you…go check on Trunks?"

Vegeta paused. Although he found Bulma's mother rather annoying, he never could bring himself to scream at her like he did to everyone else. He did, however, feel like screaming. But right now, he just continued eating, pretending not to care.

Mrs. Briefs sighed slowly and long, like a terribly depressed person with no hope of a happy life, and then turned to her husband. "Do you know what made him scream like that?"

Mr. Briefs shook his head. "Why would he ask those sudden questions about his parents?"

Those same questions ran through Vegeta's head, too. Truth was, he was concerned. But those questions would go unanswered unless he went and investigated. The image of tears in Trunks' eyes made Vegeta sick, not in disgust, but with little concern and he found himself losing his appetite. He pushed his plate forward and stood up. He nodded at Bulma's parents and went after his mate and son.

But as he reached the hall to Trunks' room, he saw Bulma standing outside his door.

"Can't I just be left alone?! Please?!" Trunks said from the other side of the room.

Vegeta watched Bulma lean her forehead against his door as she began to sob. He stared with shock as she curled into a ball and, with Trunks crying in his room, began to cry. Her cry combined with Trunks' made Vegeta uncomfortable. He didn't know what to do, and wasn't sure why he even cared, but he did walk up to Bulma.

She looked up at him with red eyes, her cheeks pale with trailing tears. Her red lips were shaking when she asked him, "What are you doing here?"

He only stood there, staring down at her. He didn't know why he was there anymore. At first, he was going to check on his son, but now, he didn't exactly know. He could easily break open the door, but…that might make situations worse. And to be honest, now he didn't feel like dealing with it.

"Don't have anything to say?" she asked with mocking politeness. Then she looked away, her eyes full of anger. "Get out of here. It's obvious you can't do anything right now."

But when he didn't move, she gave out a frustrated sigh as she got up and marched herself into her own room, slamming the door shut into its frame, shaking the walls. A picture hanging on the wall fell and broke its glass frame.

For some reason, Vegeta felt this whole thing was his fault. 'But I didn't do anything!' Vegeta thought angrily.

Vegeta shook his head as if to shake off the scene out of his head. 'This whole family is just full of dramatics. They need to get over things because there doesn't seem to be anything worth worrying about.'

So why was he worried? That question bit him in the back of his mind, nibbling its way through his brain, refusing to be pushed back, no matter how hard he tried. He began to scowl, but the image of a tear stained Bulma and the sound of their cries seemed to tear at him, scratching his heart to leave its mark, and it did.

He went into the leaving room and slumped into a sofa chair. Then a piece of paper caught his attention, which was simply lying on the coffee table before him. There was a huge green mark on it.

A+

Vegeta remembered the conversation Trunks had had with his grand parents, and remembered hearing about his grade. He picked it up and decided to read what bad things Trunks had to say about him. To his surprise, it was more than just a page long.

My father's name is Vegeta. This might sound weird, but as his own son, I don't really know much about him. So I got the idea of asking his friends. Not only did I hope to get an A+ in this assignment, but I also hoped that in doing this work, I'd be able to know about my dad. I asked a few of his friends, only to find out they weren't really his friends, but friends of my mom. They were more like acquaintances to him. You see, I don't have to be told that my father is almost anti-social and usually keeps to himself. It's the first thing you'll notice when you first meet him.

From the people I have asked, I had gotten the same answer. The descriptions that were given were those that no one would want to hear about his or her own dad. They called him an arrogant jerk who had too much pride to show any sentimental emotions, even to my own mother. They said he was so self-assured about himself that he thought he could take care of everything by himself, and would warn others not to get in his way. He also never listened to anyone and was one of the hardest people to get along with. Even my own mother agreed with them, and for some reason, as I hear these words, they didn't seem new or weird to me, because I realized when I asked these questions, I got answers that I had already came up with on my own a long time ago.

The real reason why I went out asking these questions about my father was because I hoped that I was wrong, that there was more to him than I thought he was, but as each description given to me matched my own, I began to realize that maybe that is all to who he is.

Vegeta wanted to stop reading. It was obvious what the rest would be about, but his eyes stayed glued to the paper.

Then my mother told me something different. Even though she had agreed that he was an over all mean person, she had said that my father had a strong heart. The only reason why we never see that is because as people, we tend to focus on the faults of people rather than the good qualities one has. Yes, my father can be a jerk and yes he is arrogant, but he loves us. If he hadn't, he wouldn't bother to train so hard to fight the androids or Cell who came to wreak destruction and chaos and killed like it was a game. If he had no heart, he wouldn't have gotten with my mother to create me.

My father trains me almost everyday to become a strong person. Before, I used to think he used me as something to get back at our family friends Goten, Gohan, and their father. I don't know the depth of that, but now I realized the other reason he trains me is to be the strongest I can be so I can protect a family of my own someday.

It takes my dad a while, but he is changing. I can see it when he has love in his eyes every time he looks at me and my mom. I can see it when he has pride in his eyes every time I learned a new technique. No one sees it, but my mom and I do. When he doesn't know it, my mom and I would see him sitting on a chair, simply smiling to himself.

And so, for everyone who ever doubted my dad, who ever thought he was nothing more than a cold man, I can only say that I feel sorry for them, because there's more to him than that but they won't see it because they don't want to see pass his front.

From this assignment, I didn't learn much about my father's past or his interests, but I've learned who he really is now. My father is a strong-willed, proud fighter who does know how to love, and does care for his family, but simply doesn't know how to show it. He is just simply misunderstood. Bus as his family, we already know he loves us, and we love him too.

Vegeta's hand shook as he held the paper. He couldn't resist a feeling in his heart that seemed to tingle with happy warmth that spread around his body. He couldn't stop the lift of the corners of his mouth as it turned into a smile, and then into a grin. It seemed like his body was acting not with his mind…but maybe by…his heart?

He was…happy. It was a different happy he realized. Not the happy he had felt when he turned into a super saiy-jin. Not the happy he had felt when he saw Cell die. No…it was the kind of happy that came with the honor of having such a loving and supporting family. His family was not after all against him, no. They had seen passed his cold exterior for who he really was. He realized that they knew him more than he knew himself.

And they loved him too! They loved him despite his angry looks, his indifference to a lot of things, and his temper. True, Bulma had agreed with what the others had said, but she loved him anyway. And plus, she even defended him…after bashing him first…

Vegeta felt disgusted with himself as he realized that if he hadn't walked away too early yesterday, he would have heard the rest of what Bulma said. He knew that because it even says so in the paper; that is says she believes he has a heart. Now, because of his close-mindedness, because of his fast assumptions, his family was crying.

Slowly, with the paper in his hand, holding it as if it was an old scripture written before time was recorded that it could rip by any sudden movement, he went to Trunks' room. The boy's cries had ceased, and there was silence behind the door, but Vegeta could sense the small body in the other side. He had never knocked on the door for permission. He never really asked for permissions, but he felt like, at this moment, he had to.

"I said go away, mom!" the boy screamed with anger and annoyance. Vegeta winced at the thought that Trunks had immediately thought that it was his mother outside the door, not his father, as if he never went to his room…which was true….unless it was for some training.

"Trunks." Vegeta called, calmly without any harshness. He heard his son gasp on the other side, and then footsteps that ran to the door before it opened slowly to reveal him. His face was dry from tears, but his eyes showed it all.

"I w-wasn't c-crying," Trunks stuttered pathetically as he turned away to avoid eye contact, hoping his father wouldn't scream at him for crying. "I d-don't cry. I never c-cry because I kn-know I'm a man…"

"I cry." Vegeta simply stated softly as he looked down at his son's face dart back up to look at him with surprise and confusion.

"I thought you said…but….why?"

Vegeta knew this was one of those sentimental moments that Bulma had warned him about. "One of those days is going to come, and you won't have a word to say! You'll be too dumbstruck to say anything!" She had teased him when he refused to hold the baby. Now, as he looked at his son, searching deep in his mind for an answer, he realized that Bulma was right…like she usually was.

"It's ok to cry." Vegeta said after some thought.

"But--"

"I know what I said, Trunks. You can cry…about things. But to cry over small things are what I find to be totally stupid and not worth it. But right now…it's ok to cry."

"I don't get it."

Vegeta looked away, knowing this was going no where.

"I see you saw my paper." Trunks said, his eyes resting on the assignment in Vegeta's finger.

He nodded and handed it back.

"Sorry you had to see that," his son continued.

"No, I'm sorry I saw it too late." Vegeta said. He patted his son. "But I'm proud of you, son. I've always been."

Something gleamed brightly in Trunks' eyes. The boy grinned widely that Vegeta found it contagious when he couldn't help but smile. He ruffled Trunks' purple hair before stepping back.

"Where are you going? To train?"

"No, much worse. To talk to your mother."

Trunks laughed at the unintentional joke. Vegeta gave a grim smile before walking off like a proud soldier marching into the battle field to meet the opponent.