Coming and Going
Part one of ?
The first
Pairings Mirai Gohan/Vegeta…Mirai Gohan and? You’ll have to read it to find out.
Warnings: (not all in this part) Violence, language, consensual sex
with a minor, references to some nasty stuff, LEMON AND MORE LEMON, surprises,
slightly AU
Italics denotes flashbacks
It was always dim in the gravity room, the lights
turned down to a comfortable level so it wasn't necessary to squint to see what
you were fighting. I never knew why it
was that Vegeta invited me over to spar instead of my father...I still thought
my Dad was the strongest fighter in the universe. But Vegeta knew better.
"Damn it boy, you can give me more than
that!" Oh Kami-sama...I can still
hear that royal voice mocking me, prodding me to the power he knew lay beneath
the surface. He pushed me, in ways that
Dad and Piccolo never did...never could...I loved Piccolo, always had, ever
since I could remember. And Dad...well
he was Dad after all. But Vegeta...fascinated
me
He sparked that
part of me...that untamed, wild, ferocious SAIYJIN part. And I never felt more like myself than I did
when I was with him.
I had spent the day training his son, Trunks. Every movement, every gesture the boy made reminded
me of his father...his sideways smirk, his upturned nose, his elegant hands and
feet. I missed him so much. Trunks' youthful arrogance could not begin to
replace the intense nobility and pride of his father. Whenever I spar against the son, I come home
frustrated, unsatisfied. My longing only
becomes more intense as the years pass by.
What would he think of me now, I wonder? My once-handsome looks are now marred with a
cross-hatching of scars on my cheeks. The loss of my arm concerns me the
most. Vegeta loved all things to be
beautiful, perfect. I am less than I
was...I wonder if he would still want me.
"Again.
We're going to do this until you get it right, boy. I know you can do better, don't fuck around."
"But
Vegeta-sama..."
"No buts, AGAIN."
I sighed as I prepared my Masenko attack once
again. I had thought Piccolo was a
strict taskmaster; just went to prove that I didn't know everything."
He was a harsh man, to some almost unlovable...but I saw in him a
savage, untamed beauty that called to my very soul.
The floor of the gravity room was slick with sweat
and blood...most of it mine. No matter
how fast I moved, Vegeta was faster, no matter how hard I kicked, Vegeta kicked
harder. No matter how hard I tried, it
wasn't good enough for my prince.
"Again boy!" Kami-sama, I heard that voice in my sleep for
weeks. Dad wondered what I was doing
over at CC all the time. I told him
Vegeta was training me, he seemed pleased that the prince had taken an interest
in my training. I wonder what he would
have done had he known just what kind of interest Vegeta had in me. Or what he would have said if he knew how I
felt about Vegeta. I like to think he
would have understood....but I am too Saiyjin to believe that. No matter how willing I was, I was still a
child...HIS child. I am sure Vegeta
would have ended up in a considerable amount of pain had Dad known. I kept the feelings that were growing inside
of me to myself, I could tell no one, not even Piccolo, from whom I could hold
few secrets.
I remember once, we had been going at it all day,
and I was exhausted. I was dripping
blood from half a dozen wounds and smarting from at least as many burns, the
result of badly deflected ki attacks. Had
I been fighting against my dad or Piccolo, I would have eaten a senzu
bean...but I did not want to show Vegeta any weakness. He despised the use of senzu, except in
extreme emergency.
Vegeta kept pushing me. He knew just which buttons to push. My mind filled with a red haze as his
taunting voice brought to mind Garlic Jr, Frieza, even Cooler, and my apparent
helplessness against them all. I just
couldn’t take it anymore.
“I'm tired, I hurt, haven't we done enough
today Vegeta-sama” I knew I was
whining, but I couldn’t seem to help it.
“The hell we have brat. We’ll have done enough when I say
we’ve done enough, and not one second before. I'll be damned if I'll be the only one
standing out here in the fucking cold training when you're the one with all the
damned potential handed to you on a silver platter...”
I cringed, helpless against his anger; wishing once
again that I could please my prince. But
I just didn’t think I had what it took.
He continued, getting right up into my face, his nose nearly touching
mine. Kami…I nearly passed out
from his scent alone. He’s not
yelling anymore, but this deadly calm voice is worse…
“You've never had to worry about a fucking
thing in your entire existence, Daddy has always been there to bail you
out...Well, guess what, brat, shit happens and people die...and you'll be
praying for more training when you're on your own. We're the last of our kind. If we don't take measures to make ourselves
the fastest, the strongest, the best then the Saiyjin race will die out.”
He was right, after all. Not long after that training session, my
father came down with a heart virus.
He…he died. Not the death I
think he would have wanted. He was in
horrible pain, and I wasn’t allowed to see him. They were afraid that I would contract it as
well. They told me my father asked for
me, towards the end…but I can’t think of that. Even now, the tears threaten to overwhelm
me. The pain is years old, and yet it
could have been yesterday for all the easement in the sharpness. Sometimes I wonder if that’s how Dad
felt…that horrible stabbing pain in the left hand side of my chest…
But Piccolo was there for me, as he ever
was…letting me sob out my grief, making me eat as I withdrew from the
world for weeks on end. He
couldn’t bring me out of it…but someone else was looking for me.
I don't believe he meant to hurt me as much as he
did, he was only trying to get me angry, to react to something, to rejoin the
world. He was never the most tactful of
people, and never one to reveal his true feelings. Vegeta.
I heard as though from miles away, voices arguing, Vegeta’s regal
imperiousness refusing to be pushed aside by Piccolo’s protectiveness.
“You can’t see him Vegeta, just let him
alone.” That was my teacher.
“Damn it Piccolo, he can’t just stay in
that Kami- damned cave. He needs to get
out, he NEEDS to fight. He’s a
Saiyjin, and he’s fucking going to act like one!”
Looking back, it's most likely that Vegeta was
fearful that my severe depression after my father's death would lead me to
commit suicide, or worse. I was easily
the most powerful fighter on Earth. If I
lost my hold on reality, it is doubtful that anyone, even Piccolo and Vegeta,
could have stopped me from wreaking havoc.
Piccolo said something in response, but I had
ceased to listen. The next thing I knew,
Vegeta had me by the hair and was dragging me out of the cave where I had
hidden myself, weeks ago.
As he dragged me across the rough ground, my sight
landed on a bruised and battered Piccolo.
I felt myself gasp. Vegeta spared
me a contemptuous look.
“Don’t worry about the Namek,
he’ll be fine. I left him a senzu.”
Even my shock at seeing my teacher so utterly
beaten did little to rouse me from my depression.
"Damnit, boy.
Do I have to do every fucking thing for you? You are not a weakling...stop acting like
one. Bring your ass out of this
depression, or I will beat it out of you."
I ignored him completely. Nothing mattered. I closed my eyes, as though that would make
him disappear.
"We need you strong, fighting. This is pathetic. You're pitiful. I refuse to let our race die out. Stand your ass up boy. Fight me!" his rough voice grinds.
I shook my head.
Fight him? I couldn't stand, I
could barely breathe.
Leave me alone Vegeta, I thought. I must have known that he wouldn't.
"Vegeta, please, just stop." My voice
sounded dead, even to me.
"Fuck YOU!!
Fight me, bitch! Shut me up! Make me stop...you're stronger than me,
aren't you? Isn't that what you're thinking? I'll just keep on talking...I'm
just that fucking crazy."
"Vegeta, please, I don't want to fight you…I
don't want to fight anybody."
"No?"
Vegeta's voice is high, innocent, "We'll see about that..."
"Get your pussy ass over here. You're a fucking joke. The strongest fighter in the
universe...you're a punk-ass snot-nosed child.
When I was your age, I had already destroyed more planets than you can
count."
"Vegeta-sama, I don't want to destroy
anything. I just want to be left
alone,” I whispered.
"Goddamn it, you're a Saiyjin, and destruction
is your business. It's in your
blood. Haven't you ever wanted to
destroy something beautiful?"
“Of course I haven’t…why would I
want to?”
“Because the destruction of something
beautiful is sometimes more beautiful than the thing itself boy. People moan and gripe about the loss of
innocence…innocence isn’t all it’s cracked up to
be…look at your father.”
I felt myself stiffen.
“Your brainless fuck of a father… that
son of a whore couldn't find his ass with both hands. You’re wasting your time grieving for
that low-class bastard. The only
intelligent thing he ever did was die."
"Vegeta..." my voice lowers
dangerously. I realize now that he
didn't mean it, that he just wanted to force me out of the chasm of despair
that threatened to claim my soul. At the
time, however, the pain was still so fresh; his harsh words were like a lance
through my heart.
"Vegeta...Vegeta..."his voice mocks,
"Shut my fucking mouth!! Push my
teeth through my skull, pull my tongue out and stomp on it, beat the shit out
of me...but DO something!" Vegeta
screams.
I said nothing.
I did nothing. Vegeta's ki began
to rise sharply. A vein throbbed in his
forehead, his face was flushed. He's so
angry that he's nearly hysterical, "Kakkarott wasn't the great fighter you
think he was. He was a low-class bastard
that got lucky."
"My father was stronger than you..." I
say quietly. I can barely believe my own
words. What comes out of my mouth next
astounds me even to this day. My voice
was low, "He let you live..."
"Is that what you think, boy? That your father LET me live? I'm the Saiyan no Ouji, I was his prince, and
I let HIM live. You and this pathetic
planet are still here only at my sufferance!"
The voice that issues from my throat is not my
own. I could never say these things,
"Bullshit. You are the prince of
nothing. I could kick your ass all the way
back to Vegetasei. Oh, no, I couldn't,
could I? Your precious little home is
nothing but dust. This is MY home, my father’s
home and you are here only because I allow it."
I didn't notice the fleeting smirk that crossed his
face as I did exactly what he wanted. I see it now, clearly, in my
memories...as I see everything else.
"Bitch, I don't need your fucking permission,
and I sure as hell don't need your dumbass father's permission to do a goddamn
thing! Especially since the cocksucker
is DEAD!!!"
“Shut…up…Vegeta,” I said
slowly, my voice cracking.
"What's the matter, whelp? Are you afraid of little-old me? I won't shut up until you fuck me up. If you truly felt a thing for your father,
you would never let me insult him. I
don't think you give a shit that he's dead;
you're just a spoiled little brat, wanting attention. Or else you agree with me. Is that it?
Don't you know deep-down that I'm right?
That your father was nothing more than pitiful? That he was a brain-damaged, ignorant fool
with no manners and less upbringing?
That he could never measure up to the power that we possess?"
I shudder, his words striking me as surely as if
they were physical blows. The world is
flickering in and out of my vision, and I feel a strange sensation beginning to
fill me. It’s power…untamed,
unleashed, unbridled, unbidden power.
And it begins to fill me, trapping me within its golden confines. But strangely, I don’t feel
trapped. I
feel…anger…rage…my overwhelming grief is shoved out of my
brain completely as I face the man who dared to insult my father, who dared
question my grief, my love for the man that gave me…and him…life.
I raise my arms to the heavens, and I see the
golden aura that surrounds me. I feel
the earth shift under my feet at the mere nudge of my awesome power. I am a
Super Saiyjin? I look the Saiyjin-no-Ouji in the eye and taste his
surprise…his fear…his awe?
Only the fear means anything to me now. A deadly calm engulfs me as I say “You
should not have insulted my father. He
was a better man, a better fighter than you in every way and you will PAY for
your words to me in BLOOD!”
For the first time since I had known him, Vegeta
was speechless. My blood sang as the
proud fighter took a single reluctant step backwards. He looked up in surprise; he knew that he had
just betrayed his fear to me.
And then, I attack.
That was after all what he had wanted me to
do…to attack him, to fight him. Kami...he
was beautiful I thought, as his hesitation framed him for a moment in my golden
aura...the impact of flesh on flesh as I struck his royal face gave me the
greatest satisfaction I had ever known.
"Son-of-a-BITCH!" he screamed. Vegeta raised his face towards mine, his
lower lip torn and bleeding. He raises
one hand to his bloodied face...and laughs.
I had never heard him laugh like that before. It was almost...joyous? "I'll be damned. So you do have some balls, after all?"
His laugh was melodious, I nearly smiled myself at
his elation before I remembered why he was so happy. So help me Vegeta was going to pay for his
insults to my father...to me.
I attacked again, faster this time, harder, striking
blows with lightening precision, and just as quickly, maybe more so, dodging
the blows he was trying so hard to land.
It was frustrating to him, I could tell, and I smiled coldly as I broke
his nose, the blood flowing over my hand in a crimson tide. I remember that sweet, coppery scent, it
fills my nostrils and even today the
memory excites me.
We broke apart, him breathless, panting me, calm
and collected as he casually wiped the blood from his face. I watched it soak into his white training glove
almost distractedly, the red slowly conquering the white.
His voice rumbled low in his throat, "Now do
you see? Now do you comprehend what it
means to be truly Saiyan?"
I answered
dangerously, "Yes. I understand
now. Do you?"
His ebony eyes bored into mine as he asked,
"Understand what, boy?"
I laughed
harshly, my voice barbed, "I am the last TRUE Saiyan. You are less than nothing."
I flinched as his ki exploded around me. "DAMN YOU TO HELL!" he shrieked.
I could feel him, his presence betrayed by his
energy signature, but Vegeta had been fighting more years than I had been
alive. Suddenly, I felt nothing. He wasn't there.
"Nani?!?" I exclaimed. I wheeled around...and there he was. His knee impacted with my jaw, and I screamed
in pain. His fists delivered several powerful punches to my head and neck. The shock wore off, however, and once again,
I was in control of the fight.
I brought my hands together in a gesture that
brought tears to my eyes. How many times
had I seen my father do this? I bite off
my choked sob and channeled my grief into my ki. My voice utters the familiar focusing chant,
Kami, it could almost be my father’s voice, my father’s power
coursing through me as I voice the memorable syllables.
“Ka…me….ha…me…”.a
breath as I ready myself….”HA!” I release the wave, and I know it is dead on
accurate. I can FEEL my father, almost
smell that woodsy scent that I have always associated with him…THIS IS
FOR YOU DADDY, my brain screams…and I am not aware that my voice echoes
the agonized internal shriek.
Vegeta barely raised his arms in time to shield his
face. The wave hit him dead-on, and he
struggled to remain upright under the ferocious onslaught. He screamed as his forearms began to burn
from the intense heat. He lost his
footing as the wave seemed to intensify, and found himself buried in the rock
bed of the cliff behind him. He grappled
desperately with the massive ball of ki, and with a tremendous effort, he flung
it up into the sky, hoping faintly that it wouldn’t hit anything
important on its way out to space.
Vegeta panted slightly, then pried himself out of
the rock. He steadied himself and calmly
walked back towards me, that smirk still on his face. When he spoke, it was as though my attack had
never happened, hadn’t affected him in any way, had been totally
inconsequential. How could that be? He was bleeding, bruised and I could see the
burns on his forearms from blocking that attack. How could he act like it never even happened?
"Is that the BEST you can do boy? You barely singed me. Your pitiful father could have done
better. You couldn't even beat Frieza
with a blast like that." My breath
hitched in my chest. Nani? What was he DOING? His slightly graveled
voice continued. "That pathetic attack…
so much like your father..."
"I don't know what you're trying to prove
Vegeta," I snarled, "but my father's attack has damaged you
considerably. Just like it always has.
Your energy is dropping even as we speak."
He chuckles softly, "Yes. It SEEMS that way, doesn't it, brat? But you don't have the slightest notion of my
true power..."
His eyes are cold, distant. I can't read them at all. If he is suppressing his ki...he can’t
be…he’s bluffing…he MUST be bluffing. My eyes narrow, and my world focuses on
Vegeta. His words, his lies, his fucking
arrogance….my power spikes again, and I attack, without restraint,
relying completely on instinct. I feel
nothing, I hear nothing. I only fight.
My hold on reality, already tenuous after the death
of my father, was now almost completely severed. The heartless bastard standing before me was
the only thing I cared about now. I'm no
longer a boy, I'm no longer a Son, I'm no longer Gohan. I am a Super Saiyan. All my grief, all my suffering, all my pain
is focused on this one being. My ailing
mind was convinced that he was the one to blame...for all of it. I can remember very little about the fight
that followed, but the feeling that finally, here was an enemy that I could
fight, that stays with me. I could not
fight the heart disease that had claimed my father's life, I could not fight
the despair that clawed at my heart. But
I could fight that arrogant bastard to the death.
I can't remember what pushed him over the edge...I
must have nearly lost it utterly. I can
only think that beyond his fear, his concern, his love for me enabled him to do
the one thing that could save me from myself.
He became a Super Saiyjin.
I remember seeing him erupt in a flame of gold, his
aura pulsating with that awesome power known only to the three surviving
Saiyjins, and later his son. I was
astounded at the pure, raw energy bleeding off of him. My stunned shock gave
him the entrance he needed. In a barely
discernable flash, he was behind me; then I fell. And for a long time, I knew no more.
"Gohan...Gohan." The
soft voice is familiar to me, but I resist waking up. A gentle shake on my shoulder, "Gohan,
please wake up, you're scaring me."
I sigh inwardly and struggle towards consciousness. I open my eyes to meet bright azure orbs...so
unlike my prince, and yet, there is something of Vegeta in the shape of them,
and the heavy lavender brows that slant over them.
A sigh of relief escapes his lips and he smiles. His smile is bright, but even at its
brightest it is always shadowed. I know
full well that he blames himself for the loss of my arm; it wasn't his fault,
but nothing I have said since then has changed his mind. He prefers to keep the blame on his
shoulders. THAT is very like Vegeta.
"C'mon Gohan, Kassan has breakfast waiting." I smile at him, and swing my legs over the
side of my bed. I had fallen asleep in
my clothes last night, and could see no reason to change. My dreams had been restless, memories of
Vegeta plague me; no, that is not the right word. Even my worst memories of him I treasure like
a precious gem. It is only in my
memories that the Saiyjin-no-Ouji truly lives.
His son was too young to remember his father, and Bulma is human. There is just so much that she can't know
couldn't understand about him. But I
knew everything about him before he died, and those memories sustain me even as
they torture me.
Breakfast is brief; thankfully Bulma developed a kind of nutrition bar
and beverage that supplies the necessary caloric demands for
demi-Saiyjins. Unfortunately they don't
taste very good, but they are satisfying, and nutritious. We still eat regular food, but there simply
isn't enough these days. I am grateful
for the supplements, and I know Trunks is too.
His growing body requires vast amounts of protein and calories. I am glad to know that he won't be
stunted. Vegeta wouldn't have liked
that.
I wish I could go back to bed for awhile...but it's not a good
idea. Trunks needs to train, and I am
the only one who can do it. Kami-sama, I
love the little brat, even if being around him hurts my heart. I promised Vegeta I'd look after him if
anything happened to him. I had no
choice really, and my hand absently strokes the claim-mark he left on the
junction between my neck and shoulder.
Trunks after all for all intents and purposes is my son.
He doesn't know of course...not really.
He knows I miss his father terribly, but I have never told him of our
relationship, brief as it was. I never
told Bulma either, and I don't know if Vegeta ever did. Despite that, I wonder if she knows. There is a look she gives me at times, a
coolly appraising look that raises the hair on the back of my neck. I look at Trunks sitting across from me at
the breakfast table, suppressing a shudder as he downs a second glass of
supplement. I am startled to realize how
much he has grown recently. Kami, I may
have to tell him after all. Someone
needs to give him the low-down on demi-Saiyjin physiology. Who knows if I will even still be alive when
his first heat strikes? I don't like
thinking that way, but I must be realistic.
Even if he doesn't know it, he is my child, and I have that
responsibility.
We spar for a few hours into the early afternoon, drilling endlessly,
working on his weaknesses, and finding ways around my missing arm. I am stronger than I ever was, but the loss
of my left arm still throws me off balance, and leaves me open to attack on
that side. I concentrate on trying to
turn that weakness into an advantage.
Needless to say I have yet to succeed.
We return to the ruins of CC for lunch, and Trunks goes to help his
mother while I slip away back into my room.
I search for a certain data chip that Vegeta left me and plug it in to
the terminal in my room. It contains
everything from the records in Vegeta's old space pod, his personal journals,
medical charts and educational programs that were used during cryo-sleep
inbetween purging planets while he was in Frieza's employ.
I had asked Vegeta to teach me Saiyjin-o, and instead of teaching me
himself (well, he did teach me some of the more colorful phrases he was fond of
using) he dug his old programs out and set them up for me to use. Some of them were programmed for subliminal
use and some of them for interactive.
All were in Saiyjin-o. Since then
I had developed a translating program, after all my Saiyjin-o wasn't perfect
and I didn't have Vegeta here to ask, and I had spent a great deal of time
learning all I could about my prince and my people.
It made me feel closer to him I think, and there was no doubt that
Vegeta was pleased at my interest. I
learned the spoken language quickly, and we often conversed in Saiyjin-o,
Vegeta ever trying to improve my accent.
I found what I was looking for in both Vegeta's personal logs and the
general medical records and ran it through the translating program. I checked it over, and edited it, adding
things that were pertinent for demi-Saiyjins, mostly guesswork considering the
only experience I had was my own, and copied it to a spare chip. My hand trembled as I sat back, more
emotionally affected than I would have thought by simply reading medical charts
and logs. My mind caressed the subtle
beauty of my prince's language and I remembered suddenly how I felt the day I
discovered I could actually understand what he was growling at me under his
breath.
I shivered slightly and stood up, pocketing the chip and leaving my
quarters abruptly. I knew where I would
find Trunks, and headed to Bulma's workshop.
We needed to have a talk, he and I, and I'd be Kami-damned if I was
going to shirk my duty...and my vow. My
heart squeezed painfully as I thought of Vegeta again, let's face it, Vegeta is
my every other thought. But it was the
picture in my mind of Vegeta and Trunks together, those faces so similar, but
the details so strikingly different.
Vegeta would have been so proud of his son. I sighed as I found myself outside of Bulma's
workshop.
"Hey guys," I call out cheerfully. "Hi Gohan," replies Trunks, smiling
all over his face. "Lookit what
we've been working on!" I follow
him over to the work table, and listen as he jabbers on about his mother's
latest invention, and what he is doing to help.
"That's great Trunks," I say smiling supportively when he
stops for a breath. "But I need to
talk to you about something, are you done here for now?"
"Sure," he says, giving me a quizzical look. And he follows me out of the room. Instead of going back to my quarters, I lead
the way back to his room, figuring he'd feel more comfortable on his turf. Entering, I close the door behind him and
hand him the data chip. "Sit down
Trunks," I said.
He obeyed me, still looking puzzled.
"We need to have a frank talk about sex."
He blushed furiously, and giggled nervously. "Go-chan, Mama already..."
I cut him off impatiently.
"This isn't a birds and bees talk Trunks, what I am going to tell
you your mother knows very little or nothing about, but it is VERY important
that you know. If your father were
alive, no doubt he would have already had this talk with you, but since he
isn't, it's my responsibility."
His eyes open wide at the tone in my voice. It is harsh and guttural, and I almost lapse
into Saiyjin-o in my discomfort. I
swallow and continue. I figured the best
way to explain things was to give him a real life example. I had decided to tell him about his father
and me.
I sat down on the chair across from where he sat on the edge of his
bed. "That data chip contains some
very useful information, as well as some of your father's personal logs. I want you to read them later, and if you
have any questions, come to me. Don't go
to your mother, I don't know what she knows or what she doesn't know. This is a Saiyjin matter, and I would rather
keep this between the two of us. Understand?"
He nodded mutely, amethyst hair flopping into his eyes as he forced
himself to meet my gaze. I could see
that he realized this was important, and was listening closely.
I hesitated, then pulled down the collar of my shirt, exposing the
oddly shaped claim-mark that Vegeta had put there.
"You've seen this scar before, ne?"
"Yes, Go-chan."
"It is your father's claim-mark.
He gave it to me the day that we became mates. He claimed me for his own. Do you understand what that means?"
Trunks shook his head, looking slightly confused.
"It means that we were bonded mates Trunks. In human terms, you would call what we had a
marriage."
He looked stunned.
"B..but...what about kassan?"
"That I don't know. I do
know that your father never claimed her, though he mated with her, obviously
seeing as how you exist." I grinned
at him, amused in spite of myself at his embarrassed blush.
"From what Vegeta told me, a Saiyjin can only truly mate with
another Saiyjin. There is a mental and
emotional bond that is formed when a Saiyjin claims another. I have all your father's memories up
here." I tapped my forehead.
"And in here." I placed my hand over my heart.
I looked him full in the eyes.
"I loved your father Trunks.
I loved him more than I thought it was possible to love another
person. And the only thing that kept me
from following him in death was you, my son."
"I was no older than you are now when your father claimed me, and
then you were barely walking. He made me
promise that if anything happened to him, that I would protect you, that I
would help the onna as he called her, raise you, and teach you what it meant to
be a Saiyjin prince. I've done my best
Trunks, I know it isn't much, but I do and have always loved you as though you
were my own. You are in a very real way
my child. Your father and I were bonded
by blood, and before he died, we performed a blood-bonding ceremony with you. It's like a Saiyjin adoption; basically you
bit me and tasted my blood, forming a parent-bond between us." I chuckled.
"That's how I always know what you're up to, Trunks." He looked uncomfortable. I figured I knew what he was thinking. But I
wanted him to ask.
"I will answer any questions you have the best that I can
Trunks. You don't have to be afraid, I
won't get angry, or embarrassed. If I
didn't think this was important, I wouldn't tell you." I lowered my head. "I never told anybody. It wasn't a secret exactly, we just had so
little time together before...before he died.
And I didn't really have anybody to tell. The only other person who might have
understood was my father, but he had already died." I wiped the back of my had across my damp
eyes and looked at him.
He gazed at me levelly, his calm look disrupted by his reddened
face. "So, you and tousan were
married, right?" I nodded. "And kassan told me that married people
have sex." I nodded again. "But she only told me about men and
women...she never said anything about two men together..." I could see him forcing himself to keep my gaze.
Kami, I was so proud of him! He was determined not to show how
uncomfortable and embarrassed he was.
Not for the first time I wished Vegeta were here tonight.
"Human's have long held the idea that love between two people of
the same sex is wrong," I began, my gaze never leaving his. "Saiyjins on the other hand were more
concerned about finding a mate that fit them, be it male or female. They had no such moral bans on same-sex
mating."
"But what about having babies?" asked Trunks, frankly puzzled. "I mean, I can see how it would be
pretty easy for two women to have a baby, all they need is sperm, one of them
can carry the pregnancy. But men can't
get pregnant."
"Some Saiyjin men could get pregnant actually. It was a genetic trait that ran in certain
families. All that information is on the
data chip I gave you."
He frowned, but seemed to accept that.
"So, how do two men have sex exactly?"
I knew the question had been coming, and I was prepared to answer it,
but even as I began, face hot my mind flew back, remembering....