Author's Note: Guess who's late? ME! Sorry about being soooo late. How long has it been? Three weeks? Sorry. Indoor track started up, and after practice I come home and just fall asleep. I think I've finally gotten into the swing of things, though. Good news for you guys ^.^
Next update: I have a track meet on Saturday in New York (I live in New Jersey) So the next update will be on Sunday, December 22nd.
Oh-and if you want to be on my e-mailing list for the updates, just leave your e-mail address! If you don't want to leave it in a review, you can e-mail me too.
Anyways, On with the fic!
Chapter 31
Corruption
When Trunks awoke the next morning, his muscles were aching, and his injuries were throbbing like all hell. He moaned as he turned over on his bed, not wanting to get up this morning. Life's a bitch, he thought to himself.
"Prince Trunks?"
Trunks groaned as he sat up. Looks like I'm going to have to get up, he thought to himself. He looked in the direction of the voice. "Yes, who is it?"
"Dr. Koki, sir," came the answer from behind the door.
"Come in."
The door opened, revealing a small doctor carrying a small bad of wraps and poultices and such, his tail curling about nervously. "I've been sent to change your bandages, my prince."
Trunks waved him closer. "What would
you like me to do?"
"Just sit on the edge of the
bed, my prince, would be fine. If it pleases you," he added hastily.
Trunks nodded and did what was asked of him (for once), sitting on the edge of the bed calmly. He watched the doctor begin to unwrap his bandages for a while, then drifted off into thought.
Am I really a saiyan? Or am I some mutation of saiyan genes? How can I lead the planet if my people have no care for a purple-haired freak of nature? Is this what they have thought of me?
Is Doshen right? Am I unnatural?
*******
Vegeta sat at his desk, drumming his fingers idly. Everything just seemed-over, now. But he knew that if he began to think like that, then who knew what would happen to him-look what happened before-he almost died. The drumming of his fingers paused for a moment, then resumed. Doshen… what am I going to do with him? He thought. He's pressing button's I don't want pressed… When Vegeta had taken Bulma as his mate, her azure hair was something he respected, something that fascinated him. It was never something he shunned-he never shunned her for her difference. But the people… did they see it the way he had? Or no? And his son…
His son was a whole different story. He remembered when he was born, and when they realized that his hair was unnatural-just like his mother's. It had taken sometime for Vegeta to tolerate it, and even longer for him to accept it. A son? With purple hair?
Who was also the Prince of Vegeta?
That was always a thought that never truly settled in him. It was just beginning too, but Doshen ripped open and old, battered wound.
And he would defiantly pay for that.
*******
Trunks was in his room, alone now-the bandages had been changed. Yawning, he settled back onto the bed-tired and sore. He drifted in and out of sleep, his thoughts troubled and his dreams confused. When he finally found himself totally awake, it was early morning of the next day. Still confused, still troubled, and still sore he stood, hungry.
He went down to the kitchens and found something to eat, and while he did so his thoughts became more troubled and less confused. Just what kind of saiyan was he? Not really knowing and not really caring, he wandered out to the royal gardens. He found a small cement bench and took a seat, his mind gradually starting to slow its thought process.
He watched the sun rise, narrowing his eyes at it. So simple. So.. normal. He stood up once more and strode back to the palace, his thoughts a dark swirl compared to the glow of the sun.
*******
Trunks was greeted by his mother as she walked by, and upon seeing him she altered her course to match his to see how he was. Just catching a glimpse on his face told her enough. His eyes were narrowed and had a furious tone to him, and his tail was jerking about wildly-all signs that said 'stay the hell away from me.'
Trunks looked to her, and his glare immediately deepened. It was all her fault he was like this, or that's how his mind set was when he saw her. "Get away from me."
"Trunks, what's wrong? I-"
He cut her off rudely. "Shut the hell up." When she looked genuinely shocked, he continued. "Look at me! I'm a freak all because of you. Get away from me!" His snarl hissed though his teeth, void of compassion or caring.
Bulma's eyes became misty and she quickly scurried off, Trunks smirking smugly-but the smirk was emotionless too.
What did it matter now? He was hated by his people, anyway-all because of her
Author's Note: And, as always, thanks for being patient with me! And if you're not, that's just my fault ^.^ heh-heh. ^^;; Oh, and most of the quotes that I have something to do with the chapter. Sometimes, they'll be easier to figure out, other times, they won't ^.^
THANK YOU!
"Knowledge speaks, but wisdom listens."
~Jimi Hendrix