Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Silent Tears! ❯ Chapter 1

Silent Tears!

 

By Gogina

 

 

A/N: I decided to do a take on Trunks and his relationship with Vegeta. A little bit of an AU, seeing as Trunks is in school.

 

Trunks - 9 or 10 years old, maybe younger.

 

Disclaimer - I don't own DBZ, but the plot is of my own making.

 

Summary - Trunks is excited. Father's Day is quickly approaching and his school is inviting all the fathers to attend a special presentation. Unfortunately, come that day, Vegeta's no where to be found!

 

 

 

The boy fidgeted slightly as he watched fathers enter the building, greeting their sons and daughters with hugs and kisses on cheeks. Trunks Briefs watched with hopeful anticipation as the crowd slowly diminished, until only a handful of waiting children were left.

 

`Will he come?' Trunks wondered as another father arrived and walked away with his child.

 

Soon, he was the only one left, sitting on the bench just inside the door. His hands were clutched tightly between his legs, as if causing them pain might summon Vegeta to that very spot. Tears trickled out of his eyes as he looked up at his teacher, who was giving him the smallest of smiles.

 

“He'll be here any minute,” he assured her, though, in his heart, he knew he had been waiting too long for someone to come. “I'll just wait a little longer, ma'am.”

 

His teacher nodded in understanding and instructed the fathers and children where to go. Trunks trembled slightly, watching the happy faces of the children as they excitedly chatted about random things. Giving up, the young demi-saiyan hopped off of the bench and began walking down the hallway towards his classroom, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast, and not speaking a word to those who greeted him with a friendly smile.

 

“Trunks!”

 

The young boy's hopes lifted a little at the sound of his name, but immediately the feeling vanished as he realized his father never called him by name. It was always `brat' or `boy'. Trunks turned, eyes widening when he spotted who had called to him.

 

“Goku?” he whispered, confused as the full-blooded saiyan walked up and stopped in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

 

His father's enemy knelt down to his level and produced a paper from his pocket.

 

“Bulma called me and explained what was going on,” he said, a sympathetic look on his face. “She figured Vegeta wouldn't show up, so she asked if I'd come.”

 

Trunks didn't have to look at the paper to know what it was. The bold heading spelled it put for him:

 

Welcome, Fathers!

 

“I showed it to Dad,” Trunks began, lowering his head. “I asked if he'd come, but he never told me yes or no. I left it in his bedroom in his drawer, hoping he'd see it and actually consider coming, but I guess he never saw it. That, or he saw it and decided not to come. Mom probably found it when she was putting away his laundry.”

 

“I'm sorry, Trunks,” Goku said, soothingly as he placed a hand on top of the youth's head, comfortingly.

 

The demi-saiyan jerked away, silent tears coursing down his cheeks as he looked up at Goku.

 

“Why are you sorry?” he demanded, questioningly. “It's not your fault he's never around when I need him. It's not your fault that he's ashamed of me.”

 

Goku's eyes widened at the last part as he suddenly realized all the pain and suffering the youth had been going through.

 

“Ah, you must be Mr. Briefs,” a cheerful voice stated.

 

Goku looked to see Trunks' teacher standing there, a relieved expression on her face as she extended her hand for Goku to shake. Before Goku could correct her, Trunks spoke up, walking towards his teacher and stopping right next to her, his back to Goku.

 

“My dad couldn't make it,” he said, keeping his voice at a low monotone. “Thanks for coming, Goku, but I'll just go to class alone.”

 

Goku watched with a heavy heart as Trunks continued down the hallway and turned into a classroom.

 

DBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZDBZ

 

As soon as he walked into the class, he could feel everyone's eyes staring at him. His acute hearing allowed him to pick up what everyone was whispering to each other.

 

“Where's Trunks' father?”

 

“Why's he alone?”

 

“Doesn't his father care about him enough to come to his school?”

 

The voices quieted once the teacher walked in, her eyes immediately reverting to Trunks, who sat at his desk, patiently, eyes misty, but a determined look on his face, saying he wasn't going to give in.

 

“First, I just want to welcome all of the fathers who are here tonight,” she said, forcing herself to smile. “As I call your child's name, I'd like for each of you to come up one-by-one, tell us your name and occupation. We'll start with Sakura Chirto's dad.”

 

As the said child's father was about to rise to his feet, Sakura grabbed his arm, then, turned to her teacher and asked, “What about Trunks? Isn't his daddy here?”

 

Silence thundered through the room as Trunks' eyes widened. Slowly, he stood to his feet, willing his legs to move forward, until he was standing in front of the entire classroom.

 

“I know my dad isn't here,” Trunks whispered, trying to keep his emotions in check. “So, I'll just tell you a little bit about him. My dad's really strong and he's actually a prince of our race, so, that's why I made-“

 

Trunks was having an extremely difficult time keeping his cool. His prize was clutched tightly, yet tenderly in his hands.

 

“-I made him a crown,” he blurted out. “I-I thought he'd like it, but I guess I'll never know.”

 

Everyone watched as he regained his seat, burying his face in his arms. The rest of the time went by quickly, Trunks keeping his head down so he wouldn't have to hear everyone's pity. Slowly, class drew to a close and school was over. The fathers took their children home, leaving Trunks all by himself as he walked along the sidewalk.

 

`I guess I was hoping for a miracle,' he thought, sighing as he took to the air.

 

The crown he had made for his father was still in his hands, Trunks, refusing to believe that Vegeta wouldn't wear it.

 

“Trunks?”

 

The young boy stopped flying, hovering in mid-air, eyes wide in shock at the voice of someone he had known all his life.

 

“Dad?”

 

Vegeta floated before him, arms crossed over his chest, a firm, determined look on his face. Trunks swallowed hard and suddenly, handed his father his hand-made crown.

 

“I-I made this for you,” he stammered, keeping his gaze fixated on anything else but the person in front of him.

 

Nothing was said for a while, until Vegeta finally spoke.

 

“Let's get home, brat,” he said, turning to fly, then looking back to make sure his son followed. “The woman's been worried.”

 

Trunks held back his oncoming tears and nodded, re-positioning his backpack on his shoulder and flying next to his father. As they disappeared out of sight, a piece of paper fluttered gently to the earth below. A colored crown became damp with rain and the words carefully written on it smeared:

 

I Love You, Dad

 

 

 

 

A/N: Okay, I have no idea what inspired me to write this. No, I don't hate Vegeta. I just wanted to write something with Trunks and Vegeta. Please, R&R.