All Because of You

Bulma rustled through a stack of papers. Her brows knit as she searched, frantically, feeling her nerves on edge. She had seen the announcement for the upcoming press conference. It was only a matter of time before reporters would be at the company's main entrance, waiting for her to make her exit so they could bombard her with the usual questions. It was going to be just like it was two years ago.

"Damn it—where is it?" she grumbled, pulling through sheet by sheet, still not finding the documents anywhere. She had searched this pile twice. She must have been so stressed and unfocused that she had missed it. Sometimes it was easier to find things when you weren't looking.

There was a rapping at the door. Bulma looked up as her secretary slid inside, a meek woman with round glasses and a soft-spoken voice. She held a clipboard shakily at her waist.

"Yes," Bulma asked wearily, mildly irritated because it was obvious her secretary hadn't come to bring her a coffee, which was something she badly needed right at that moment.

"Ms. Briefs, someone would like to see you," the woman responded.

Great.

"Not right now. Tell them to come back later," Bulma said with a dismissive flourish of her hand as she returned to leafing through a second pile.

"Ahem! It's an important someone,' the secretary said insistently, her soft-tone suddenly a shrill one. "Someone who won't leave even if I, er, kindly ask. Someone who doesn't take 'NO'… for an answer."

Bulma raised her head slowly. Her left eye twitched. "That...someone?"

Her secretary gave a weak nod.

"O-Ok. Send him in," Bulma sighed begrudgingly.

Before the secretary could so much as turn around, that someone—short, muscular, surly with a spiked haircut as ridiculous as his crisp white suit— shoved by her. He was indifferent to her tossing her clipboard into the air in fright, or her strangled scream, as he stomped into the room. He popped his collar once, and then planted his hands on his hips.

"Hmph! As if I would stand out there waiting to be let in like some child."

Bulma erupted from her seat, dropping the papers onto her desk with a thump. She glared and waved a hand, motioning for the secretary to leave. The secretary wasted no time abruptly leaving and clumsily shutting the door behind her as Bulma stared unwaveringly at the man: her estranged husband.

"Vegeta-kun…"

He smirked once, giving an indignant "Heh!" before uttering, "Long time no see."

"So the rumours are true, then?" Bulma said in a cool, even tone having forced herself to maintain her poise.

Vegeta turned his head, shutting his eyes pompously. "I wouldn't know." He reopened them slightly to peer back at her. With wide eyes, he returned to face her, his face set in a scowl. "What? What's that look for?"

Bulma slammed a fist into the desk as she growled, "We have certain things we need to deal with, Vegeta. You should know that best."

Vegeta stared silently. His face was grim and deep ridges formed at the corners of his mouth.
"I need to see my son," he groused.

Bulma snapped, "I've never stopped you from seeing him, so don't even start!"

Vegeta stared for the longest time, seeming to be contemplating on something before folding his arms and letting out a snort. He sneered, "Fine. We deal with this—then we deal with that."

After finishing his usual four helpings of eggs, bacon and French toast, Trunks excused himself from the dining hall to head off to school. He lazily tossed his book bag onto his back and marched to the front door, mentally checking off in his head all that he was supposed to take and do that day. But the timing was remarkable, for just as he approached the front hall, the door swung open and closed with a slam. Trunks froze, hearing shuffling noises and faint mutterings but from his vantage point, he couldn't see the door itself.

"Ah, Briefs-sama," greeted the doorman. "Oh—sir! I didn't expect…no, no, allow me to take that."

"Get off! I can carry my own things! Idiot."

It was as though Trunks' heart had suddenly stopped beating.

That voice.

Trunks rounded the corner, bounding forward until he was at the entranceway. He narrowly missed bumping into the doorman when he saw them at last. His mother made eye-contact with him, jerking slightly as though not expecting him at all. Her lips curled into an awkward half-smile.

"Trunks, we have a visitor," she said.

He didn't need telling. Trunks stared past her, staring wordlessly at the man that was with her. Bulma sounded cautious, still speaking with that false-smile, 'I was thinking, maybe you should take the day off school today.'

Trunks didn't hear her. In this moment, her tone irritated him, with its attempt at kindness, gentleness, honesty but all the while reeking of deception and apprehension. And even in spite of that, all that, what irritated him more was seeing this man.

"You're out…" Trunks breathed, his voice barely audible.

The man smiled, though his smile was as it always was—evil, sinister, confident. This man was his father. With his black eyes on Trunks for the longest time, he stowed his hands in the pockets of his white suit.

"How about a little chat?"

"Chibiusa?"

The girl jumped, finally registering her own name being called and lulling out of her trance.

"Y-Yes, Momoko-chan?" Chibusa turned blearily to Momoko who frowned.

Momoko shook her head disapprovingly. "You haven't heard a thing have you? Is It because of Briefs-kun?"

Chibiusa half-smiled and bobbed her head slowly, peering at his empty seat from across the room. He wasn't at school today and she couldn't help but wonder why. He didn't seem unwell the day before.

"Hey, did you hear the rumours about Yasai?" Kyuusuke said suddenly, leaning against the window sill.

"Yasai-san?" Hotaru said. She glanced over at Chibiusa who simply looked confused.

"Who is that?" Chibiusa asked, noticing all three of them were staring intently at her.

"Chibiusa, haven't you been following the news?" asked Momoko.

Chibiusa tapped a finger to her cheek and shrugged. "Not really."

Kyuusuke was wide-eyed, and he flailed his arms, speaking in a loud whisper. "But it's been everywhere. Yasai is a kingpin with a huge fortune in crime and he was just released from prison."

Chibiusa slumped into her seat, eyes wide. "You mean a real gangster? How scary!"

Kyuusuke nodded, crossing his arms. "Yeah well it's all my parents have been talking about lately. Capsule Corp doesn't look good right now."

Momoko looked sad as she mumbled, "Poor Trunks."

Kyuusuke scoffed. "Honestly, if it weren't for the video games I wouldn't even go anywhere near him."

Chibiusa gawked at the others. What were they talking about?

"Capsule Corp? Trunks-kun? What does that have to do with him?" she asked.

Kyuusuke looked knowingly at the others before directing a surprised look at Chibiusa.

"You mean you don't know? Yasai Vegeta is Trunks' father!"

"Trunks…"

Trunks shut his eyes; the sound of his father's voice calling his name was painful. He tried to hold back the tears he knew would come if he dwelled on it too much.

"What are you doing here?" Trunks asked through gritted teeth.

"Show some respect. I am your father," Vegeta growled.

Trunks glared into nothingness. "I wouldn't know it."

"Really? Who taught you how to fight, hm? Before you got this so-called 'master' you have now."

Trunks coiled his hands into a tight grip. "You haven't been here. Why even bother showing up now?"

"Prison wasn't something I chose," his father's voice was a snarl. "Now are you going to open the door?"

Trunks' back was braced against the bathroom door, his elbows and open palms now pressed against its cool surface. He had locked his father out and himself in. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to hear the lies.

"You were gone long before prison. So maybe you're better off there. You make a better criminal than a father!"

Everything was quiet for a moment and Trunks thought with some fragile shred of hope that his father had made up his mind to go away. But Trunks didn't hear the tell-tale patter of footsteps, and he realised drearily that Vegeta wasn't going anywhere. The silence was palpable.

"It's funny." Vegeta's voice suddenly came. "Even in my past life, I was a terrible father to my son. And now it seems I'm an even worse one than before."

Trunks felt his heart beat between his ears. Past life? He remembered it?

"I know what you're thinking. Well, I recall it just as well as you do. I didn't always remember so I made mistakes, sure, but imagine? We were born again. Even you have a second chance. But to think once again I've put all of you in danger with what I've done. Like some twisted fate, history just repeats itself."

Trunks could barely catch himself—it was so much! Trunks heard the departing footsteps. His father was walking away, but how could he? After revealing so much, and yet nothing at all? Trunks spun on his heels and hurled the door open.

"WAIT!" Trunks shouted, gasping for air, shoulders heaving, overwhelmed with emotions. His eyes were large, gaping, and rimmed with the onset of tears.

Vegeta stopped in his tracks. His arms casually at his side. He half-turned, and Trunks could see the hint of a smirk on his face. Trunks faltered slightly, hesitation crossing him. He suddenly regretted his movements, his actions and calling out to him. He suddenly felt ill.

"You opened the door at last?" Vegeta turned fully to face him, his dark eyes on Trunks with his usual detached but penetrating stare. With the slanted eyes so like his own.

Trunks swallowed hard. "Explain it."

"Explain?" Vegeta crossed his arms. "How should I put this? Well, the King Vegeta who was your father in your past life made three wishes to the dragon of Planet Namek. His first wish was that no Saiyan would ever feel compelled to attack the Earth or Moon again. The second was that Earth may have its own set of Dragon Balls so that it may always defend itself. And his last wish was that they may all have second chances to be the people they never were."

Trunks stared in disbelief. "You wished for all of that?"

Vegeta smiled. "The King did. 'Second chances' to him meant being a better father to your then sister. But somehow, it became literal. I was reborn, as were you and your mother."

Trunks stared down at the floor. King Vegeta had made such requests and Queen Serenity had made a sacrifice. Their parents, Prince Trunks Vegeta's and Princess Small Lady Serenity's, had both done all of this? But something wasn't clear.

"Mother doesn't remember…"

"It's true. And the reason for that, I am uncertain."

"This doesn't make any sense," Trunks started. "Why did you do it?"

"The King wanted to make amends. How things ended…it wasn't supposed to be that way. I can't pretend to understand it all in my current form, and now is too soon to extrapolate. I had a lot of time to think and thought it was best I told you this. That's why I had to see you."

"Then if you knew this much, then why? Why did you become this person? Why did you leave us? Mom? Me?"

Vegeta smiled. "Become this person? The Saiyan Empire was built on conquest. Try ruling all of that, then try leading a simple life afterwards. I'm crooked. It couldn't be helped. This is my nature, son. I guess it's why I was reborn without any powers, as a mere mortal. Karma." He then turned away, no longer facing him as he spoke. "I never left willingly, but you know it wouldn't look good having one of the world's largest companies connected to organized crime. It was all to protect your mother. You should know it best, Trunks. The world was never supposed to know that someone like me is your father."

Trunks glared, tears now pooling down his cheeks and wetting his front. "I don't care what people think! You should have just been here!"

"It's not about caring. Things are much deeper than that. Maybe when you are older, you will understand. But for now, I did my time. I'll be back to what I do best. I just want you to know, I was always proud of you."

Trunks stared, speechless.

The atmosphere surrounding the first year class at Saiyatsuki Junior High School was odd, foreboding…

There were the persistent whispers, the lingering stares and the parting of crowds wherever the young Capsule Corp heir walked. There was no swarm of fangirls hovering around. Even so, he walked as he usually did, indifferent, arms crossed. But something had changed. Something about him seemed less confident. Less sure.

Chibiusa couldn't stop the thoughts. So it really was true? His father was that kind of person? Was this why Trunks never spoke about Yasai Vegeta? Was this what Trunks meant by people "fearing" him? Chibiusa couldn't deny it. She herself feared him a little now. In fact the entire morning had passed, and she couldn't face him, couldn't look him in the eye. She wanted to…but she recalled with clarity their conversation:

"What's your father like?"
"He's exactly like you remember him."

Chibiusa shuddered. Trunks hadn't been lying then.

The day had come and gone, and another had begun. Another day of avoidance. She wasn't sure if Trunks had looked at her to see if she had looked back at him, because she still couldn't will herself to look at him even once. As the day came to another close and the classroom emptied, an unfortunate thing happened. She and Trunks had been both assigned to classroom cleaning duties along with two others. The two students remained at a distance emptying the trash bins though glimpsing nervously at Trunks. Chibiusa sighed as she watched him wipe robotically at the chalkboard, stone-faced and mute.

"Um…" Chibiusa gathered some board erasers, and beating out remnants of chalk dust. "It's been difficult hasn't it?"

"Do you really care?" Trunks mumbled, not looking at her as he wiped the last bit of residue. "You've stayed away like the others."

Chibiusa lowered her eyes to the floor, and felt her arms plunge to her sides. "I…"

"It's okay. I get it," he mumbled, inching away from the board. "Who wants to associate themselves with someone like me? I'm probably just as bad."

With his job done, he turned and left.

It was finally the fourth day of the week, and the class was quiet, left alone by the teacher for a self-study period. Feeling bored and idle, some students gave way to chatter. Chibiusa glanced up with agitation, not at all taking kindly to the distractions.

"Guys, shut up," Momoko scolded, seeming to share the same sentiment as Chibiusa.

No surprise, the real delinquents spearheading the chaos were Kabuto and Matomo. They ignored her as they continued their conversation. Matomo entertained himself by folding a sheet of lined paper into an airplane that he then threw across the room. It bounced off the wall, and he scrambled up to retrieve it. Another boy seemed to join in, and it looked as though they were now competing to see whose plane could fly the farthest.

"Ugh, honestly… grow up," muttered Hotaru under her breath.

Suddenly, Chibiusa heard the jarring screech of chair legs scraping along the floor. Her head shot up. It was Trunks.

"Whoa! Nailed him right in the back of the head!" snickered a boy under his breath.

"Oh my gosh! Kabuto just threw one at Briefs-kun," Momoko whispered audibly to Kyuusuke.

All eyes were now on Trunks, but with a clear hint of suspicion. Trunks had pushed his chair back, hunched over with palms pressed onto his desk as though poised to stand. Chibiusa studied the look on Kabuto's face. It was intentional.

"Oh, sorry there, Briefs. An accident, you know?" Kabuto sneered.

Trunks responded firmly but calmly, "Really? An accident? Maybe I should show you an accident."

"Threatening me, are you?" laughed Kabuto. "Seems like your style. You learn from the best, right? Yasai-sama."

Trunks was fully on his feet, his chair falling to the ground with a clatter. Chibiusa noticed Trunks' hands were now balled into quivering fists, small veins forming along them. He was upset. But he knew better to fight here. Even so…there needed to be an intervention.

"Leave him alone."

Everyone turned with surprise. Before Chibiusa had even realized it, she too had stood up and had spoken.

"This doesn't concern you," retorted Matomo, looking annoyed. "Stay out of it."

"I will not!" Chibiusa cried, defiance welling within her. "Trunks-kun should not be judged because of what anyone else might have done, even if it's his father!"

Matomo seemed taken aback by her words, directing a coy look at Kabuto. Their classmates began their whispers.

"Chibiusa! What are you doing?" Kyuusuke hissed. "You're going to become unpopular defending him."

Chibiusa snapped her head to him. "So what? Trunks-kun is my friend!" She redirected her focus on the pair. Her eyes narrowed. "I refuse to just sit back while you bully him!"

Trunks flinched slightly, mild embarrassment clear on his face. "I could stand up for myself, you know…"

Classmates directed tense glances at each other, mumbling under their breaths, Chibusa suddenly felt the weight of what she had done strike her. Her body shook.

"What are you going to do then?" Kabuto quipped, his eyes trained on her. "Some bodyguard, you got there, Briefs."

Trunks glared. Before he could respond, Hotaru shot out of her seat as well, standing side-by-side Chibiusa. "If you mess with her, you deal with me!"

"Hotaru-chan?" Chibiusa squealed, stunned by her friend's words. Hotaru winked.

Momoko stood as well, looking unsure but willing herself nonetheless. "A-And me. We stand by our friends!"

Kabuto and Matomo exchanged puzzled glances. Momoko directed a scolding look at Kyuusuke who groaned once before teetering lazily to his feet. "Me too…" he mumbled.

Chibusa smiled and Trunks gaped back, looking absolutely bewildered.

It was after school. With no clubs that day, Chibiusa rushed out the doors in search for Trunks. She hoped she had made up for the way she had ignored him earlier with her words in class. Yet, she wasn't certain, and Trunks was a step ahead of the rest, leaving class quickly, not taking pause to so much as glance back at anyone. Chibiusa had reached the edge of the school courtyard, eyes scanning for a familiar purple head amongst the few that lingered. He wasn't around.

"He's left." Chibiusa sighed, shoulders slumped with defeat. She considered going home when she heard the soft voice emanate behind her. She turned, meeting the handsome face, the amber eyes that glinted gold.

"Erishi-kun?"

Hiro neither frowned or smiled as he said, "Hi. I was hoping I'd run into you."

It had been over a month since she had seen or spoke to him. And the last time they had spoken, it hadn't been on good terms. Chibiusa willed herself to bravely look at him.

"Briefs-san," Hiro started. "You and him…"

As though the words were prophetic, a familiar voice among others rang out in the distance. Alert, Chibiusa tore her eyes away from Hiro and towards the source. She followed the perimeter of the large building, noticing the shadows spilling from around the corner.

"Just spit it out, then. What's this really about? You already knew all about my dad, didn't you?"

"Who doesn't? Yasai Vegeta, the most ruthless mobster around? Crossing him once is all it takes for a hit."

Chibiusa leaned forward. It was Kabuto who had just spoken, Matomo at his side with Trunks' back to her as he regarded them with clenched fists.

"Yeah, too bad he has so many lackeys covering his tracks, he never gets a single thing linked back to him," Matomo grunted.

"What a joke! Two years and prison sentence lifted? What did your mom do to get him out? How much money did she pay?" Kabuto jeered.

"Shut up!" Trunks snapped. "My mom doesn't have to do a thing, and what he does or doesn't do isn't my business and it definitely isn't yours! Now say it! You know everything, don't you? About the past?"

The two boys didn't speak, and simply stared back angrily.

Trunks smirked, an arm raised and pointed at them with a triumphant fervour. "Heh! I'm right, huh? All of this is just jealousy, isn't it? How horrible it must be for you to be reborn only to be nothing but the dirt under my shoe all over again?"

Kabuto's eyes were menacing as he barked, "Yeah you're right, asshole! There's nothing worse than being below someone like you—an undeserving piece of —"

"Stop it!"

Chbiusa couldn't help herself. She had stepped out from behind the wall. It was just like earlier that day in class, that wave of courage that came in spite of herself.

Kabuto looked surprised, but he quickly masked it behind a cynical roll of his eyes.

"Oh, look it's your precious princess come to save the day!"

Matomo sniffed. "I guess it's just like before. She's just as brave as back then, still without anything to back it up. It's hilarious. It's also jut so sad."

"Leave her out of this!" Trunks shouted, redirecting attention to himself. "You want to fight me then? Well then it's on!"

"You fight, and I notify the Principal."

Their heads all turned, noting it was Hiro who had spoken. Chibiusa watched in amazement as he stepped to her side, a bold gesture as he near matched in height to the two bullies, but not in brawn, especially with the broad-shouldered Kabuto.

"Who the heck is this guy?" Matomo groused, glimpsing between Kabuto and directing a scrutinizing glare at Chibiusa and Trunks.

"Never mind who I am. This is school property," Hiro said matter-of-factly, his senior status evident in his manner.

Kabuto was unfazed by Hiro's threat. "This punk! Who do you think—"

Suddenly Matomo reached for Kabuto's arm to pull him back. He grumbled under his breath, "Just leave it, Kabu. Not worth our time."

Kabuto seemed aggravated at first as he looked sternly back at his friend. As though something finally registered, Kabuto pivoted, a final dirty look shot at Hiro then Trunks before the two set off on their own way.

There was an unsettling feeling left in their wake as Chibiusa noticed Trunks slowly turn towards them, his gaze empty and uncertain. He stared hard at Hiro, then his eyes shifted to her.

"It's you…you're both…" his voice came out strangely.

Chibiusa peered at Hiro. Of course, he had been the one to break up the inevitable scuffle. She opened her mouth to speak, but he walked past her with haste and approached Trunks.

Trunks got on his guard as Erishi Hiro neared.

Why had he been there?

"Fighting? Is that all you brats are capable of?" Erishi said in a cold, almost mocking tone. "Does having a brain truly elude all of your kind?"

So Erishi knew the others were Saiyans as well? Trunks scowled. He hated being referred to as if he were an object, some freak. "My kind? What is that supposed to mean?"

Erishi maintained perfect calm as he spoke, his pale hair drifting with a cool breeze. "I know exactly who you are—or who you used to be. Give it up. You're not worthy of Chibiusa."

Trunks leered. "And you are? She obviously chose me. Besides I'd think my family bank account makes it pretty clear what my worth is."

Erishi didn't flinch, or falter at the words. He remained calm and unwavering. He spoke softly:

"If you know what's good for you and if you really care about her…you'd do the smart thing and let her go. Kid."

Then he sauntered away, a chilling tinge to the air with his final words.