Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Harvest of the Soulless ❯ Truth ( Chapter 1 )

Harvest of the Soulless

By Poe

Chapter One:

Truth

"Deception, you've hurt me,

But mostly I've deceived myself.

Oh, where? Where have I gone?

Where has this man hidden me?"

I stood there, alone in my now messy room, looking into the mirror and seeing what 18 years of life amounted to. Short, black hair, childlike features, and clothes my mother always hated but I felt comfortable in. I seldom wore makeup, and refused to ever wear a dress. In other words, I was a complete tomboy and had been for years. Sometimes, like now, I hated it.

Looking at the mirror, I realized how messy my life was and how much it reflected in my appearance. My eyes were bland and lifeless, I had lost a lot of weight, and I didn't bother forcing any smiles. I used to be so innocent and happy, but now I was bitter and resentful. I hated the world and, judging from my appearances, it hated me back.

My mother's primary concern was my attitude and loss of weight. She thought it was because I was dating Trunks, that she made clear to me. We had been dating for 7 months, and some 3 months ago I began to fall into depression. It made sense to assume it was Trunks' fault, perhaps due to some turmoil in the relationship. But it wasn't true, far from it. Trunks was too goddamn perfect to make me depressed.

So I guess I start my story with the truth. Lies, deception, and everything else radiate within me. But that's not how I like things to be. I like things simple, the way they used to be. So here, standing before the mirror, I see what is real, what is tangible. I see my life and what a disaster it is and what it has made me. And that's where things start, with a mistake.

7 months ago, the supposed love of my life, asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend. This love, this infatuation of mine, had actually asked me if I wanted to have a relationship with him. Trunks was my childhood crush, so I felt a great responsibility to myself to accept. Not only that, I was thrilled that he had asked me in the first place, I would be insane to refuse his offer.

That's a time of my life where things were too wonderful to be real. It was like a dream, hearing the phone ring and knowing it was him calling, going to trendy restaurants with him and only him, and just knowing he was finally my boyfriend. As cheesy and unlike me it all sounds, it was very much real. I was dating the man of my dreams, and I thought it would never end.

He took me on dates all the time; we were inseparable. He stopped joking about me being a kid, and he started taking me seriously. Trunks called me when he said he would and treated me like an equal. He became everything I wanted him to be, it was like he read my mind and turned himself into my dream man.

But of course, I was only fooling myself. He wasn't perfect, I was just too happy to realize it. I even thought I was in love with him, that my new goal in life was to marry him and be with him for the rest of my life. Looking back on this, I laugh. I didn't have the faintest clue of what it was like to become obsessed with someone.

Obsession is where things take a hideous turn. But it wasn't an obsession with Trunks that accomplished this, quite the opposite. He was wonderful at making sure I was rarely disappointed by him, that I was happy with who he was. Instead, an infatuation took root in me for someone outside my secure relationship with Trunks.

Without any control, I was governed by this infatuation suddenly and swiftly. Not exactly love at first sight, but actually something close to it. I saw this person once and it was like meeting him for the first time, and falling in love with him instantly. In my mind, he was someone I had never known before, someone perfect. He was what Trunks once was but couldn't ever be again.

And worse of all, he was Vegeta.

Surprising? Of course, and especially for me. I couldn't believe myself when I felt feelings begin to develop, I had to deny it. I wanted to slap myself in the face whenever I felt an attraction to him creep up on me, I wanted to pretend that I was just temporarily delusional. So much denial filled me, I could barely understand myself.

By now I'm tired of lying to myself. I admit I was obsessed with Vegeta, and unfortunately still am. I say it with shame, and of course, question. Why Vegeta? Why then?

The answers to these questions come easily at times. I remember watching him from a distance since my early childhood, watching him so far away and so handsome. I never felt feelings for him until then, but he always stirred up admiration in me. He was a jerk, and that was exactly what I wanted to be. He was the opposite of what my parents forced me to act like; he was the untamed Saiyan within me.

I never liked him in any other way than some indirect and subtle role model probably because I liked Trunks. Once the joy for being with Trunks faded, a new lust bred in me. It couldn't have been love, what I felt for Trunks was love, even if it was like a friend. No, I was attracted to Vegeta, not in love with him.

Nonetheless, I felt sick and wrong. It took so long to believe myself, to keep from hitting myself for being so foolish. It's still a little hard not to give myself a mental slap in the face every time I think about him.

But the worst part of it all, of course, was his age. I liked older guys, but this was ridiculous! Even while I was dating Trunks I felt some moral qualms kick in every time I was reminded of his age, but it wasn't a tremendous ordeal I would have to conquer. With Vegeta, it was enough to drive me insane.

It didn't help that he was evil, either. I'm sure deep down he loved his family, but if he didn't even care enough to show it, how could he love me? I didn't have a chance of having any meaningful relationship with him, it was obvious. I was lucky if he used me as a cheep thrill, it would mean that at least he didn't think of me as a child.

And of course, there was the marriage factor. Everyone talked about his relationship with Bulma as though it were the most wonderful thing in the world. They would say, with smiles, how she had made him civil. How she was best for him, and how lucky they were together. I, on the other hand, didn't share that opinion.

For a while I hated her. I couldn't accept that the only man I loved, or thought I loved, was taken. She could've been anyone and I would've hated her, my feelings for Vegeta were that strong. Every time I saw her, which was often thanks to my boyfriend, I would have to force my smiles and try to be polite. As much as I hated it, I didn't want anyone to have the barest hint that I was jealous. Time passed, and I quelled my feelings of anger towards Bulma. I don't hate her anymore, I'm can safely assume I'm more mature now. I know hating her won't get me Vegeta, and how polluting hate is.

Regardless of whether I hated her or not, I paid close attention to any signs of turmoil in their relationship. It was constant, sometimes I would go over to Trunks' house and Vegeta wouldn't be anywhere near. He would even disappear for weeks, but typically only for days. I never heard an argument when I was over at the Briefs house, probably because they didn't talk much. Things didn't worsen, either, giving my hopes a swift, and almost fatal blow. I was hoping things would build up to the point where either one's pride would grow and grow until they couldn't stand tolerating one another. But of course, they didn't.

At least, as far as I knew.

So months passed and my relationship with Trunks was one-sided bliss. He was happy, and I was perfectly content faking I was fine while using the relationship as an excuse to forget about Vegeta. As far as Trunks was concerned, our relationship had no reason to end for a long time. He was fooled, and that was all that mattered.

It wasn't long before my depression started to show. I slept less and less, struggling not to fall behind in my studies. I knew if my grade dropped, my parents would demand me not to date Trunks any longer, making my cover more easily blown. So, I did everything else I wanted to except forget about school.

I wrote dark poetry, stopped wearing colors, and transitioned into a photograph of teenage angst. Typical of someone my age, so my friends didn't notice much either. A lot of them were angry and bitter anyway, so who cared if I fit in a little more. To be honest, I was a little disappointed with them and everyone else for not noticing. It made me even angrier, and my depression a shade deeper. I thought I was just another meaningless soul, living in a desolate world with only one name.

Vegeta.

I used to have girlish makeup reserved for special events, but I threw it all out in a fit of anger. I also began to read dark stories and quote gothic poetry on papers and mirrors in my room. My artwork in school was always depressing, as bleak as I felt and half as lonely.

Still, I felt things for that man. And there I was, staring at the mirror and seeing what 4 months of depression can do to a girl. Vegeta did horrors to me without even realizing it, but he hadn't destroyed me. I was standing, though not very strong, and I hadn't tried anything stupid yet.

I suppose here is where I say that everything turned out fine from then on and that even though my love was not returned; I still lived and moved on. You know, those happy endings to stories about girls who fell in love with the wrong person and then later decide that, because ethics are more important to them, they can just throw their feelings away and start anew. No, I was too stubborn to forget everything Vegeta meant to me.

Then again, how could I? He was a subject of my perpetual, unrequited love. He was a face in a faceless crowd. In short, he was everything to me in a world of nothing.

I shook my head, as if trying to shake off my thoughts. All I did was think of him, I couldn't help but tire of it. Looking in the mirror, I smoothed down my hair and inspected myself to make sure my mother wouldn't have any nagging complaints. I had a date with Trunks, she would be concerned if I didn't make a half-decent effort to arrange myself. And now, of course, was not the time to be thinking about Vegeta. I had plenty of time for thoughts, that I was sure of.

Taking one last glance at myself, I decided it was time to go. I put my hand to the doorknob and opened to door, drifting out my room and leaving memories behind. I was going to see Trunks, I should've been excited and nervous as I had been before. This attraction that had manifested in me was killing my entire thrill around Trunks. I wasn't happy to see him, but at least I wasn't dreading being with him.

It would take a lot more than some obsession to keep me reluctant around Trunks, a younger part of me said. I smiled at this comment, memories and dwellings I thought I had left behind drifting back at me. I smiled at how the part of me that loved Trunks was almost still alive in me, giving me the smallest part of joy for being with him still.

Down the stairs I walked, seeing my mother and father talking by the door. They noticed me, they had earlier thanks to ki, and turned to me. My mother looked bright and happy, content with my dad, as he was content with her. I wondered if I would ever be like that, just happy.

"Pan, Trunks is on his way, you're ready, right?" my mother asked. She was more used to this idea of me dating Trunks than I was, it seemed 7 months were longer than I expected.

"Yeah, I guess," I responded, without much feeling as I often did. My hand was dragging on the handrail, my eyes not meeting my parents'.

"Pan, honey, you don't look like you're taking care of yourself," my father said, concern in his voice, "are you sure you don't want to brush your hair a little more or something?"

"I'm fine."

"Pan, we're worried about you, why do you keep acting like nothing's wrong?" my mother asked, agitated.

"It's nothing you can help with," I responded sharply, "so don't make a big deal out of it."

"Pan, don't use that tone with me-" A doorbell interjected. I sighed, secretly with relief that another argument wouldn't be started, and then smoothed down my hair once again.

"I'll see you later," I said, finishing my walk down the stairs quickly and opening the front door.

Trunks stood there looking the opposite I did. He was well dressed, very clean, and surprisingly cheerful. The only thing that was disorderly about him was his hair, most likely from the flight there. He wore his typical clothes, staring at me with his father's eyes the soft curves of his mother's facial features.

"Hey Pan, you ready?" he asked

"Yeah," I turned to my parents, "I'll be back by 9." My father looked a mixture of sadness and concern and my mother looked angry from my disrespect. It was moments like these that I realized how dysfunctional my family was.

"Ok then," my father started, "you two have fun, don't get into trouble." My father was so naive sometimes, I almost rolled my eyes.

"Bye," I said briskly, just to end the conversation. And then I stepped outside and shut the door behind me, not taking a last glance at my parents. Trunks looked at me without a hint of curiosity as to why I was acting so aggressive.

"So, what do you have planned?" I asked before we took off.

"I was thinking the usual. You know, renting some movies and hanging out at my house."

My thoughts and casualty pulled to a screeching halt. I couldn't believe him. His house. We did go there often, but going there always made me so tense. I was surprised he didn't notice. Just the thought of being near Vegeta made me so happy and so sad all at the same time. Not to mention angry with myself for being happy in the first place.

I opened my mouth to conjure up an excuse, but nothing came. I wanted to be near Vegeta, it was what I lived for. I spent all my time thinking about him; sometimes I wondered if I only used Trunks as a pawn to get closer to him. So, instead of me making up some brilliant excuse as to why we should go somewhere else instead of near Vegeta, I said the most ludicrous thing I could've said.

"Sure, why not?"

Now don't get me wrong, I understand that there is a fine line between things I should say and things I want to say, but apparently I just subconsciously blur that line, and blurt out whatever I want to.

And out of all things I could've said, I said the worst thing I could've said. Worse than if I had strategically conjured up some mathematical and precise way of sending myself straight to the bowels of hell.

Out of all the things I could've said, I said the truth.

I sighed internally and got ready to take to the skies with Trunks. Looking at my house, I remembered my parents, caught in my endless storm of depression. Such suffering, such pain, all because of one man.

I looked at the house and Trunks and then hated the truth. I hated loving Vegeta, a married man, a savage, and a cruel and cold-hearted man who was far too old for me and probably not interested at all. I hated myself for not liking Trunks the way he liked me; he deserved my love, not Vegeta.

But still, above all, I hated the truth.

It was, after all, all that I had left.