.
CHAPTER 19:
Bomb Cyclone
The walls compressed on his head and the whole world seemed to shift. Light turned into a sludge that burned and whipped by his frame as resistant wind. The wind made a tunnel as light streaked past him, almost as if he were in a wavering hyperspace that flickered around the edges of his vision. He trudged forward, pushing against an invisible force that felt like an opposing current.
The world whipped by him in the wind tunnel, warping his vision almost like cascading water, as he was immersed in a dull, deafening heartbeat of silence.
Goten's door was distorted as Trunks walked in a daze, among a swamp of muddled constitution. His feet sank into the floor and were sticky, stuck, and stupid as he slogged laboriously through an awakening tide of sludge. All around him, the ground shook and broke, and shattered as a space-quake of reality. Trunks felt his will overtaken by mudslides off cliffs that collapsed into abyssal waters below, while other parts of him burst as geysers as he swallowed and breathed a boiling, gaseous cloud of miasma and disdain.
Her laughter thundered in the ominous clouds that cracked and split his sky, as a fog of war descended, and tinted all of his vision red. It was pressure. It was madness that congealed and inflated every corner of Trunks' soul and his vision.
Sounds echoed and relayed and reverberated like water, like mountains, like a war horn around him until he was unsure of his reality, and what he was hearing.
Nothing made sense anymore. There was no reality anymore. No matter what he did… no matter how much water he could tread… no matter how many shields he put up, there was no way to stop the invasion.
She was there, behind the lights… behind the wind… behind the cloud… behind the door.
Trunks envisioned all of the threads of a raveling tapestry that danced with possibilities. The images fleeted as phantom nightmares in his wavering reality. He saw them in Goten's bed. And on his couch. And they could be naked. Or they could have already done something. Or maybe they were about to. It didn't matter.
She was there. She was touching Goten.
The security never knew. The cameras never spotted her. She slipped right by.
It was Goten…
Goten brought the snake into the den.
Goten was Trunks' weakness. Goten was Trunks' undoing.
He should have known he did this. This was quintessentially Goten. This is what Goten did. This was always how Goten operated.
Goten was the type to slip out after locking himself in his room for hours.
Goten was the deviant. He saw people when he fucking shouldn't, and he used his Kinto'un cloud to travel around with his ki undetectable which he got very fucking good at because he got practice sneaking away from his older brother, Gohan.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The words rang within Trunks' head and spiraled around him in his realization.
Goten brought Havana in through the window. There were no cameras there. They were all below.
Goten's window was a blind spot. Trunks should have known. It was Trunks' fault for not thinking of it.
Trunks felt invaded, violated. He staggered, still wanting to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was imagining it. Maybe he was going mad.
But she was there.
She was with Goten. She was in Goten's room. She was in Trunks' apartment. She invaded his home. She violated his space.
She was a threat. She was with Goten.
The world spun. The room spiraled. The light swirled in strings that tangled and strangled him as he squirmed for survival amid a titanic, sticky, deadly woven web.
And all the energy sparked in him at once. He was a fuse that ignited and surfed the wire as fast as an energy blast into the many deep, buried layers of his mind, packed with dynamite.
His anxiety and disbelief rose like the pressure of gasoline, choking him and swallowing him as the energy blast arrived.
He could only blindly see. He could only deafly hear.
His heart beat as fast and as intense as a pounding, riveting, escalating war drum.
Hyenas laughed, and Trunks was fucking gorilla.
He spun out. With a rising temper, Trunks strode to the living room and needed to break something.
He wanted to rush in and destroy her. He wanted to eradicate her. He wanted to erase her. He wanted to kill her. HE WANTED HER GONE. GONE. GONE. GONE.
Trunks couldn't handle his energy. It ignited into a boiling steam that swirled within him until it made his hands burn. There was a wind within the apartment from energy that could not stay contained. He was cracked.
He was failing, he was spinning, he was contracting, he was plummeting.
Every second that went by, Goten was still in there with her. And each moment burned. It was hell in his head. An armageddon in his heart.
His words didn't work with Goten. He couldn't reach Goten.
He couldn't make Goten stop seeing her.
Trunks was losing Goten to a lying, cheating villain.
Trunks couldn't save him.
Trunks failed him.
Havana won.
SNAP.
"AHHHHHHHH!" Trunks screamedfrom the bottom of his gut, propelled by all of his ki and rage and despair as he felt his life spiraling out of control.
In a madness, Trunks let loose in the living room, with claws that grabbed at the back of the gaming sofa, and he pried away the fabric and all its encasings as if to dig down, to destroy it, to bury himself.
Fabric and foam flew as Trunks shredded the furniture, kicking their ottomans, smashing their coffee table, splintering wood throughout the air as he kicked and beat at everything around him, screaming.
"Whmt thmt?! Whmt hmmpnng?!" There were muffled shouts from the security guards outside the front door.
Two clicks, the the iron door started to swing open. And Trunks SCREAMED, "GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT!"
Trunks then HURLED the entire SOFA at the iron door, forcing it closed clicking the lock as it exploded into shards of fabric and bent metals, "STAY THE FUCK OUT!"
"What's going on?!" Goten slammed his door open, shouting at Trunks amid the confusion, pulling down a hastily thrown-on white shirt and green sweatpants. "Are we under attack?!"
"LIKE FUCK YOU ARE!" Trunks couldn't contain his rage as he grabbed one of the lounge chairs and hurled it through the entire kitchen island, shattering the chair as the cabinets buckled under the cracked marble countertop, and erupting with all the plates and kitchenware inside.
"Are you insane?!" Goten charged toward Trunks.
Trunks was beyond words. Trunks was beyond thought. He smashed the entry lamp and spilled curses at Goten, and trekked through the sludge to just breathe and find his air. He knocked into everything as he stumbled and writhed in the agony of all of his torment.
And then he saw her standing in Goten's doorway, and he was filled with a fearhe had never known.
He vaguely remembered breathing, he wasn't sure, as he hyperventilated and resisted arms that tried to grab him.
He kicked and wrestled and punched, and struggled against the hands that tried to constrain him.
His ki charged, and there were shouts as he went wild with his blasts, knocking over paintings and tables. There was the crashing of glass as frames fell from the walls.
It funneled and funneled inside Trunks, as he was swept with his current. He was lost, he was gone.
He might have been crying. Everything was wet. Everything was a scream as he clawed his way, trying to get back to the surface.
He tried to get out of danger. He tried to claw his way out but he was so lost. He was so hurt. He was in such pain that he couldn't even get his own bearings of what was even real.
And then there was a hold on him, and he was wrapped in strength and heat. It was a foundation, a marker, something grounded and stable.
He felt his body shudder and quake against the stabilizing force as he cried and gave way. He gave up.
There were other tears against him, and a strong sense of Goten protecting him.
Trunks ugly cried and wailed as the wall that reinforced him rocked him steadily in a soothing, pulsing motion.
He closed his burning eyes and leaned into it. He surrendered.
There was a soothing voice. A hand through his hair.
He heard words again - more voices. The security guards - and Goten's voice told them it was all okay now.
But it wasn't okay. It wasn't okay at all.
"Get rid of her," Trunks choked out. "Get rid of her."
There were voices that all talked over each other - confused. Havana had gone back to Goten's room and the security guards didn't know she was there.
"Get rid of her!" Trunks was screaming to Goten, but it was also to the guards, as his voice rose to shriek in his tantrum, "GET RID OF HER!"
"Stop it, Trunks! Calm down!" Goten tried to stabilize Trunks again, but he resisted in the hold that Goten had on him.
"GET OUT!" Trunks shrieked at Havana who he KNEW was behind Goten's door now.
"Stop it!" Goten pleaded at Trunks, "Please, Trunks, snap out of it."
"Is there a girl in there?" the security guard asked Goten.
"No!" Goten lied to the security guard, "Get out. We're fine."
The guard had looked around, grumbling about how things weren't looking so good, but Goten shut him up and raised an arm away from Trunks to point at the door.
There was resistance among security, and it was clear they were asking if they needed medical attention for Trunks.
"I know who to call if we need it," Goten assured them.
The security was muddled and murky. Trunks couldn't make sense of what was safe and what wasn't.
Whatever the security found would be reported to Trunks' mom. Trunks didn't want his mom to find out.
"I'm fine," Trunks lied, speaking against Goten's chest, to make the security go away. "It's all fine."
There was more hesitation.
There was enough of a pause that Trunks was able to breathe, and held himself against Goten, trying to regain some of his bearings.
He felt the ground under his hands. He had at some point collapsed, and Goten was cradling him against his chest.
Trunks raised his hand to gesture to the door, and spoke again to the guards through Goten, "Please leave us."
There was one last round of hesitation among security. They said something didn't feel right. And they were right. Trunks didn't feel right.
But then security reluctantly closed the door.
There was a long moment when Goten just continued to hold Trunks against him, and Trunks calmed.
"We were just playing a game," Goten spoke into Trunks' hair, "I didn't do anything with her," he lied.
Trunks believed him, and felt a weight lift. Trunks felt the walls around him lift. The waters receded a bit as he trembled in Goten's arms.
Trunks breathed into him as his voice was soft and broken, "She's just playing games with you."
Goten hitched a breath, "That's not fair. None of this has been fair." He buried his chin in Trunks' hair, "And now you destroyed our place over it."
"Please let her go," Trunks agonized quietly against his chest, "Please, Goten."
"Tell me a good reason why, Trunks," Goten felt like a broken record, repeating the same request over and over. "Tell me one real reason why I can't trust her."
Trunks realized he couldn't say it. No matter how much time, no matter how close or far he was to Goten, he couldn't form the words in his throat. He wanted to. At this point, knowing Goten was lost, there was nothing left for him to lose… But he didn't know where to start. And the second Trunks imagined the look in Goten's eyes - the disappointment that would be there, he knew he would crumble.
Trunks was tired. He was defeated.
Trunks was empty. Everything was gone.
He suddenly realized he didn't have any fight anymore.
"I…" Trunks' eyes watered as he looked up to Goten, "I'm sorry."
"What?" Goten looked down at him, confused and angry.
"I'm sorry." Trunks couldn't stop the words from spilling as he choked out, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Goten sighed, "Come on, stand up."
Trunks sat up, and stood with Goten's help. He straightened his pants, and smoothed his letterman jacket, loosely checking it for any damage.
He looked down, unable to meet Goten's eyes. "I'm sorry for making a mess."
Goten sighed.
"I'm sorry for getting in the way." Trunks wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't help you."
"There you go again, acting like I'm in some kind of danger," Goten gestured with his left hand to the room, "But you're the one acting out, and all paranoid and stuff."
"You're right," Trunks solemnly looked to the side, "I'm… I think I need some time alone."
"No, Trunks, I don't think you do," Goten frowned and stressed. "I think you need to be around people."
"Yeah," Trunks halfheartedly listened as he walked away from Goten, plodding in a dull, monotonous manner toward his room.
Goten followed Trunks, not believing him, and feeling something was still very wrong. He was stopped in his tracks when Trunks opened the door to his room, and then turned to Goten, looking him straight in the eyes.
Then Trunks gave Goten a smile of sunlight, and joy, and beauty that melted Goten's heart.
"I'm going to be okay," Trunks smiled to him with a warmth that made Goten's blood rush.
And then Trunks closed his door.
And it was silent.
––––––––
Goten stood staring at the door for a long time. He kept trying to sense Trunks' ki behind the door, but it was clear that Trunks was squashing it, wanting to be unseen and unsensed.
Havana emerged at Goten's door again, and looked confused at the sight of the living room.
Goten never kept his eyes off of Trunks' door as he walked back to his side of the apartment and shyly asked if Havana could get ready to go - he'd need to dismiss her out the front door. He didn't want to leave Trunks for even a minute. He was worried.
Goten couldn't explain to the security guards how Havana got in. As he bashfully saw her down the hall to the elevator, Goten made up a story to the elevator guard about how he slipped her in during their bathroom break.
It was clear that nobody believed him, but he didn't care to go into more details, partly because Goten was terrible at lying, and also because he didn't really need to; since he wasn't making any formal complaints, and because Trunks had told them to butt out of their business, it was not up to security to ask any more questions.
When Goten got back in and closed the over-excessively massive iron front door behind him, he surveyed the damage to the living room and kitchen and groaned at the headache it would be to clean all of this up.
Goten went back to Trunks' bedroom door and gave his classic two-long knocks followed by a short knock, or "G" in Morse code.
There was no response. And so Goten tried again.
And again, no response.
"Trunks, let's talk," Goten said through the door. It was time they sat down and had their heart to heart. Goten couldn't handle Trunks' outbursts like this anymore. Trunks didn't realize how hard it made it to live with him.
There was no response, and so Goten tried to turn the knob with his left hand.
The door was locked.
"Trunks," Goten slammed the door with his left hand and tried the knob again with his right hand, "Open up."
Goten tried again, knocking harder, and was met with silence, followed by more silence.
Trunks had never done this before. Trunks had never shut himself away like this… not from Goten.
"Please," Goten leaned his forehead against the door, "Please let me in."
After more silence, it was clear that Trunks did not give his consent for Goten to enter the room. But, Goten couldn't bring himself to walk away. It was not an option for Goten to leave Trunks by himself right now.
So, instead, Goten changed his tactic.
"I'm sorry," Goten said as he charge ki into his left hand and with his palm to the side like an axe, he pierced straight through the door, - KRKK!-.
With his hand through the door, Goten twisted his wrist and unlocked the door by turning the knob from inside.
The door creaked open, and Trunks was nowhere in sight.
"Trunks?" Goten looked around as he stepped in and only saw the bed and Trunks' dresser. The bathroom door was open, and the window to the bedroom was closed.
Goten stepped in further, "Trunks?" He made it past the bed, and found Trunks, curled up on the floor, with his knees against his chest. His back was against the bed, in the corner where the bed met his nightstand farthest from the bedroom door.
Trunks' eyes were empty, his expression vague. It looked like Trunks had shut himself so far inside himself that he had locked away his soul.
––––––––
He - He - hE
was una
ble to process anyt
hing.
He-He re- re- re- re- relived the trauma and the grief.
He was b-b-bro-kne and in a panic.
He was broken and in a panic.
Broken. Broken.
He relived the trauma and the grief.
He was unsafe.
He was used. Hurt. Re-lived. Pain. He can't - hadn't - wouldn't -
He couldn't talk to anyone about it. He relived the trauma and pain.
He was
the grief. He
was hurt. He - pain.
He thought he was better, but she crawled right back in.
He was feeling broken, destroyed, damaged, empty, drained.
He wanted it all to end. He relived the trauma and the loss.
He thought of his miscarried child. He thought that maybe if he had gotten proper medical treatment, he could have saved the baby.
He didn't deserve to be alive. He didn't deserve any of these good things. He didn't deserve Goten. And he couldn't protect Goten.
He was the worst kind of friend. He was a monster.
A monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster.
He destroyed his home; he destroyed his life; he destroyed his friendship. He was broken. He was the worst.
The worst. The worst.
He didn't even notice when Goten broke the door.
He barely even felt the arms that wrapped around him.
He was numb as he felt the hug, the comfort, the hand in his hair, the words to try to soothe him.
But he felt the warmth of the hands on his back, and the strong chest against his.
There were sparks of light - small, far, and fogged. They were sensations that tingled and sparked flashes amid Trunks' darkness.
In the swirl of his mind, he followed those sparks of warmth and found they were kisses to his face, and hands that held him and kept him safe. He wasn't tumbling or spiraling - he was secure in strong, warm arms.
It was Goten's arms. Goten came for him.
He leaned into Goten and hugged him, breaking into tears. All of the emotions welled and formed, as Trunks cried into him.
"Please…" Trunks' voice was weak against Goten as Goten's arms held him tightly.
"What can I do?" Goten spoke into Trunks' hair.
"I don't feel safe," Trunks broke into a tremor against him.
"Why don't you feel safe?" Goten urged against him, rocking him, "We're okay, right?"
"Please stop," … seeing Havana. The words continued in Trunks' head as he closed his eyes against Goten, picturing Havana standing in Goten's doorway. "Please… help me."
Goten stopped and pulled Trunks away to look him starkly in the eyes, "I will always help you."
"Please Goten," Trunks looked down, and gasped for air.
"I'm right here."
"Please…" Trunks whispered as his wet eyes lidded, "Please…"
"Are you having a panic attack right now? Is that what this is?" Goten squeezed his shoulders, "Are you okay? Do I need to call anyone?"
"I don't know," Trunks cried, bending forward and covering his face with his hands, "I don't know. Please…"
"Please what," Goten pressed.
"Please…" Trunks lowered his hands to reveal a face broken and desolate.
"Talk to me, Trunks. I don't know how to reach you." Goten tried to reach out to Trunks' hands.
Trunks' hands shot out with a swoosh and grabbed onto Goten's wrists tightly. He was locked in.
Trunks' eyes were fire as he looked up and hard at Goten's face, "I love you."
Goten watched back, "Yeah, I know."
Trunks' eyes widened as the blaze further ignited, "I would do anything for you."
Goten blinked at the growing intensity, "What…"
Trunks leaned forward, his eyes wild as he breathed and hitched his breath, "If you had been born a girl, things would have been different."
Goten leaned back, his eyes widening, "What are you doing?"
"But you're not a girl, and I somehow still love you," Trunks' eyes were questioning, and his eyebrow ticked a bit as his mind raced behind wild eyes.
"Trunks, please…" Goten pleaded.
"I'm not gay." Trunks declared with finality.
"Stop Trunks, think about what you're saying."
Trunks looked hard, "You're my partner."
Goten's eyes stung and grew wet with emotion, "Stop, Trunks…"
Trunks hauntingly brought a hand to Goten's jaw and looked almost confused, a little fearful as he felt like he battled back a storm as within Goten's eyes, "Goten…"
Goten's eyes leaked as he sniffled and was lost in a whirl of wind. "Trunks…"
Trunks cried, tears running freely, "I love you, Goten."
Goten cried, wailing that he couldn't express his feelings right, "I love you, Trunks."
Trunks leaned in and kissed Goten with a desperation like a lifeline. They both cried and kissed and grabbed at each other's hair, and their collars and shirts, and held tight as all the storm crashed around them.
Trunks tried to push Goten back to the bed. He put his weight into the kiss, and propelled their momentum backward, so Goten would have to sit on the mattress.
Goten stopped Trunks, resisting against Trunks' pushes.
"This is wrong," Goten hesitated as he pushed back, "I'm not gay."
"You don't have to be," Trunks' hands were still against Goten's back and he tried to push forward again to re-meet Goten's lips.
"I don't want to have just sex, okay?" Goten dodged Trunks by slipping to the side, spinning out of Trunks' surprised grasp, and out of the trajectory of the bed.
Trunks was left with wide eyes and gaping confusion, "What…"
"I'm not gay, Trunks," Goten was more resolute now, looking down, and then back to Trunks, "And I'm not a bottom, even if you do get me to do gay stuff with you."
Wait, what?
Trunks was taken aback, and his whole head spun in his incredulity, "Huh?"
Goten stepped forward a bit, as if finalizing a statement, "There, I said it. I'm not a bottom and I'm not gay. Please respect that."
Trunks just gaped at him.
"What is this?" Trunks was confused.
"The thing I wanted to tell you. I just didn't know how." Goten looked to the side, and then back to Trunks, "I'm telling you I love you. And I want to help you."
Trunks' wide eyes were lost as he shook his head in disbelief, "What help…"
Goten swallowed, "You said "please" before. You begged 'please,' right?"
Trunks just stared, not understanding what was happening.
"I'm here to help with what I know you need."
Whatever emotional cloud Trunks had been lost in was completely gone as Trunks was so stunned by the whirlwind change of topic, and the obvious miscommunication that had arisen from nowhere.
"What are you talking about?" Trunks was confused.
"I know you've been sensitive to me being in touch with Van."
Trunks tensed.
"But hear me out. Please hear me out, Trunks." Goten pleaded, and brought his hands up in front of him disarmingly.
Trunks' mouth stiffened into a half-snarl.
"I reached out to her - I got back in touch with her, because of you."
"Me?!" Trunks was aghast, standing by his bed.
"She knows some places she can recommend for us to go out dancing." Goten's voice was encouraging as he kept his hands up.
"DANCING?" Trunks was beside himself, "What on Earth made you think that I wanted to go out dancing?!"
"Because of this, you see?!" Goten gestured up and down Trunks, as if that was meant to explain himself. "You know - how you prefer me."
"I don't understand," Trunks was flabbergasted, and unfortunately understood more than he said.
"Maybe there are other guys like me - You know… men that me or someone Van can help to introduce you to, ya know? I want you to find someone."
Reality smacked into Trunks as he realized what Goten was saying.
Beyond any of the swirl of doubt that Trunks had felt previously, he was flooded with a deep sense of betrayal that ached him beyond words. The painful soreness in his heart made him feel dirty and pained.
Trunks felt the storm threaten to rise again, "Did Van set you up for this? Did she put the idea in your head that I'm gay?!"
"Stop, Trunks, it wasn't her idea."
"She's lying to you!" Trunks' voice grew desperate, with his eyes threatening to go wild again.
"She wants what's best for you," Goten encouraged.
"BULLSHIT!" Trunks exploded, fully back in his rage, and he backed up straight into his nightstand, wobbling his lamp.
"Stop, don't do this again," Goten grabbed Trunks' wrist, "Stay with me, Trunks."
"There's nothing wrong with me!" Trunks screamed at Goten and yanked his wrist away. "You just keep bringing her!"
"YES! She's my girlfriend!" Goten put his foot down. "Havana and I got back in touch and yeah I mean, we talk! And - and-" Goten realized it might be a bad idea to say he was more intimate with her, "She's easy to talk to - you know that. She's nice."
"Goten…" The wave of fear and shame washed over Trunks again, "Please…"
Trunks tried to avoid panicking at the thought that Goten would keep bringing her over indefinitely.
Trunks sat down on his bed and looked down to his feet.
Trunks echoed again, "Please, Goten…"
Goten said nothing, frowning and standing not sure what to do.
"I know you're not gay." Trunks wiped his eyes, "I never thought you were."
Goten just sighed.
"I'm not gay either. Please." Trunks looked achingly to Goten, "Please just hug me. Please just hold me. Is that okay?" He cried and repeated, "Is that okay?"
Goten swallowed and nodded, "Yeah, that's okay."
Goten sat down next to Trunks on the bed, and enveloped him in a hug from the side. They leaned into each other and just rocked with their eyes closed, as Trunks leaned his head on Goten's shoulder.
Trunks cried against Goten. Goten could feel Trunks' chests spasm against him.
"I'm right here," Goten said soothingly, "Hug me as long as you need."
"What if I hugged you forever?" Trunks spoke into Goten's shoulder.
Goten smiled tearfully, "You know, that sounds kind of romantic."
"Shut up," Trunks scoffed into him with a laugh, "Now you're the one sounding gay."
"Heh…" Goten held Trunks' back and looked up to the ceiling in their hug. "Ya know, Trunks…"
"Hmm," Trunks absently responded.
"I really do love you."
Trunks sighed against him, "I know," and then he turned his head to look forward, with his head still leaning on Goten's shoulder, "Sometimes I wish I could be a part of your family."
"You already are," Goten murmured supportively.
There was a pause and then Trunks felt a wave of an old energy shift within him, that had been previously restrained by the weight of his guilt.
Trunks couldn't help it. Whenever he felt the energy, he had the urge to prank.
"You know I could join your family." Trunks grinned wolfishly, with a snigger.
"What, how?" Goten asked, clueless.
"What if I married Pan?" Trunks bared grinning fangs.
Goten immediately reacted how Trunks knew he would, "AAAAAHAHAHA!"
"Aaahahaha!" Trunks also laughed from his gut.
"It's like not even funny!" Goten laughed, "Only you would joke about marrying a seven year old," Goten wiped his eyes.
Trunks sat up and wiped his eyes with a laugh, "You're saying this to the guy who dated a fifty-four year old when I was sixteen."
Goten broke out into laughter again.
Trunks followed suit, grateful that enough time had passed that he could finally laugh about Mai.
They sniffed and wiped their eyes.
Goten smiled softly, "I can tell by your stupid jokes that you're feeling better."
"Yeah," Trunks smiled.
––––––––
Trunks wasn't feeling better, though.
After Goten finally felt that Trunks was in a better place, and left the room, Trunks was then alone and plagued by how Havana now had access to their address.
Trunks' thoughts kept coming back to the same mental picture, over and over, of her standing in Goten's doorway.
Havana knew where they lived.
It didn't matter that they had security. She could enter through the window now.
Trunks was paranoid and afraid. Goten could never understand how just the thought of Havana made Trunks feel so ill and insecure.
No matter what, Trunks was beyond the ability to confess the truth. He didn't want to lose Goten's trust or introduce doubt into his mind.
Trunks didn't want to rock the boat anymore. And he didn't want to accidentally ruin his innocence or pure heart. Trunks would not be the one to take Kinto'un away from Goten.
Trunks realized he could never go to Goten about the truth. He was afraid of Goten finding out about his past.
But the more that Havana came around, the more his past haunted him. And it was getting worse.
Trunks realized, now, that if there was ever a chance for him to save his relationship with Goten, Trunks had to confront Havana directly.
Trunks looked at the clock, and saw that a couple hours had passed. Havana must surely have made it home by now. Trunks knew he did not owe her any explanation for what happened with his temper in his apartment, but he needed a reason to open up communication with her. With a method to his madness, Trunks texted:
Hey Van. Sorry for earlier. I'll pay you back for the taxi, just send me the amount…
She texted back:
I don't like how u treat Goten.
Trunks' emotions flared, feeling anger that Havana, of all people, would dare to cast judgment on how to treat Goten. He also was angry that Havana was now dragging Goten into this, when there was bad blood only between her and Trunks specifically.
Trunks replied:
We need to talk.
Nobody ever liked reading those words. Trunks bitterly hoped Havana felt a sickening pit in her stomach with them.
Havana replied:
Tonight. My place. Bring your capsule with the dragonweed. Delete our messages; no trace plz.
Trunks looked at the message for a long time.
Something about the message rubbed him the wrong way, but Trunks ultimately dismissed it.
Trunks understood why Havana wanted to keep the secrecy. He also didn't want Goten to find out.
Trunks knew this talk with her had been coming for a long time. He had avoided it as long as he could, because he had hoped everything would go away on its own.
But now Trunks was going to have to do something he had hoped to avoid. He was going to have to project his mother's persona for a bit.
In the end, everything came down to money.
And tonight, Trunks was going to find out exactly how much money Havana wanted… to disappear.
––––––––
––––––––
–1/31/24–
