Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Stargazing ❯ Into the Lion's Den ( Chapter 6 )

Stargazing
Chapter 6: Into the Lion's Den

In all honesty, I trusted neither Marron nor Trunks with the situation at hand. I could not expect either of them to successfully mend the rift that had come between them (Trunks because he was seriously pissed off and Marron because of her lack of skill in the "understanding Saiyan urges" department), so I took it upon myself to pull some strings and get them back together.

Ironic, really. I ended up trying to salvage the one thing that had driven me away from home in the first place...

Trunks' love for Marron.

Was I crazy? What was I thinking? Had breathing the exhaust fumes from my space capsule altered my mind completely? Why was I tearing myself apart, ignoring the yearning and crying of my heart, feeling an emotional devastation in my chest almost to the point of physical pain, all to save the relationship that had been the bane of my existence for nineteen years?

It was true - desperate people really did do crazy things.

So, while Bra busied herself trying to console the unhappy blonde, I resolutely headed for Trunks' room, knocked on the door, ignored the muffled "Go away", and let myself in.

I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

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Trunks sat with his back to the door with his face in his hands, finally feeling the repercussions of what he had said to his fiancé. After the initial anger at Marron finally faded, he felt overwhelmed with an intense wave of guilt. Why had he blown up at her? Couldn't he have spoken calmly and rationally, like an adult? What if she thought he didn't love her any more? At that thought, he briefly contemplated rushing into Bra's room and apologizing for everything he'd said. Maybe he'd been wrong to ask her to change her way of looking at him. Had he been right in thinking that she hadn't cared about his heritage? What if he was the one who was blind to the truth, and had made a fool out of himself for nothing? His head became jumbled with his confused thoughts, and he could feel the beginning of a migraine prickling in his skull.

He moaned pathetically, and slumped over his knees in defeat.

"Stop moping and feeling guilty, you idiot. Sulking doesn't become you."

He looked up, irritated at the intrusion, and locked eyes with the one person that he didn't want to see at the moment - Pan, who was lounging carelessly in his doorway. She had changed out of her evening gown, he noticed, and now donned her usual orange bandanna, a Capsule Corp t-shirt, and loose gi pants. Her change of attire, however, did nothing to diminish her beauty. But right now Trunks didn't have time to focus on that, because he was unfortunately on the receiving end of her disarming glare. Fighting back a shudder at her clearly irritated state and cursing mentally at how weak he must seem, Trunks sat up and hurriedly put on his best scowl.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

"For you to stop being a complete ass and go talk to Marron," she shot back at him, undeterred by his rudeness. "And don't think you can get away with taking your anger out on me, Trunks," she added. "Talk to me like that again and things'll get really ugly around here."

He winced at her sharp tone and decided that it was in his best interest not to argue. "Sorry," he mumbled reluctantly. "I'm not in the best of moods right now."

Her expression softened, and neither of them spoke for a moment. Sighing resolutely, Pan rolled her eyes and walked into the room, closing the door firmly but gently behind her.

"Fine. Out with it, then." He looked up in surprise to see her lower herself into sitting position in front of him, looking at him expectantly. "Well?" she snapped impatiently. "You've apparently got a lot on your mind right now, and I'm not just about to let you sit here alone and wallow in self pity. If you're willing to talk, I'm willing to listen." She raised one eyebrow and waited for his response.

Trunks was thrown off by this sudden change in attitudes. First she comes back from a three-year absence just to ignore him for a whole day, and now she was asking him to talk to her about his feelings and his crumbling relationship with his fiancé?

There was something wrong here, that much he knew. She was sending him mixed signals, and he didn't like it one bit. Deciding to ask her about it later, Trunks answered her only for the sake of playing along.

For now, that would be enough. There would be time for questions later.

"Well," he started grudgingly, "I guess I'm just upset because of something my dad said to me." He paused, hesitant to continue and looked up at her questioningly. She nodded, urging him to go on, and continued looking at him intently, her entire attention focused on listening to what he had to say. Satisfied, he went on.

"He said some pretty nasty things about Marron today, and it really pissed me off. So naturally I insulted him in her defense -"

"You insulted Vegita?" she asked, surprised.

"Well, not directly," he said hurriedly. "I just... answered him disrespectfully, I guess." She nodded at the clarification and urged him to continue. He obliged.

"Of course he wasn't about to back down, and we got into that whole... I don't know how to explain it... 'challenge of authority' thing." He paused, and then backtracked.

"Sorry, I'm probably not making any sense. It's like, when I talk back to my dad it's as if I'm calling his dominance into question -"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain it. I understand what you mean. Go on," she encouraged him again.

Pleasantly surprised that she had understood the situation, Trunks continued talking with more confidence. He was surprised at how easily his feelings came out when he was around Pan. She was Saiyan too, and understood his personality and his problems. In that respect, he had more in common with her than with his fiancé, and it was easier for him to express himself with the former.

"So anyway, I didn't want to fight him and backed down, which really pissed him off. He started saying how when I was little, I would have confronted him in a fight, and basically what he said was that I've become too 'human' these past years."

Pan opened her mouth as if to say something, but changed her mind and gestured for Trunks to continue instead. He nodded gratefully.

"And then he said I was unworthy of the Saiyan race."

"He said that?" Pan interjected sharply.

"Yea, but I don't think he meant it. More like, he said it to make me think about some things that have been going on in my life lately..." He looked at her interested face shrewdly.

"Why do you suddenly care so much about this whole thing anyway?" he finally asked, raising one eyebrow in curiosity. "It's not like you're best friends with Marron or anything, so why does it matter to you if I'm mad at her?"

"I'm your best friend, aren't I? Or do you not want me to care?" she asked, clearly annoyed at his query. Her tone was clipped and unpleased.

"It's just that when you got back you ignored me and I thought that you didn't count me as one of your friends anymore," he blurted out.

Silence.

"Is that part of the reason you're upset?" She asked quietly. "Because you thought I didn't care about you as a friend anymore?"

He nodded slowly.

Shaking her head, Pan let out a deep breath. "You're still my best friend, Trunks, no matter how far away I've traveled or how long I've been gone. Sorry about the way I act, but a lot of the places I visited weren't exactly safe, and a lot of the time I couldn't act like myself. I had to seem unruffled at everything, and hide all my discomfort or fear or whatever, and it's become a habit so I can't really help it. Sorry if it threw you off," she finished, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable.

More silence.

Trunks felt extremely stupid. Here was Pan, back from three years of what seemed like a horrible isolation, and he was moping because she didn't worship the ground he walked on anymore? He felt horribly selfish and indescribably ungrateful.

"Don't worry about it," he finally managed to say. "It was my fault for not having more faith in our friendship." Another awkward pause. "Friends?" he tried lamely.

She laughed musically and smiled. "Friends," she stated sincerely. She got up to leave but paused when she got to the door. He waited for her to gather her thoughts, and then when she spoke it was in almost a whisper.

"You should try to talk to Marron," she advised softly. "It may seem that she doesn't understand you on purpose, but she loves you very much and can't help being, well, human. If you try to communicate to her your feelings, maybe you'd get along better."

Trunks nodded. "Thanks for the advice."

"And if talking to her doesn't work," Pan added before slipping out the door, "you can always come talk to me. Anyway, I've gotta go. I promised Vegita I'd spar with him, so I'm off to get my ass kicked. Do me a favor and pick up my remains after I'm through, okay?"

"Sure thing. Do you want to be buried or cremated?"

"Haha, very funny," she said sarcastically. "I appreciate your encouragement, but - oh, shit! Look what you made me do! He's been waiting for fifteen minutes already! Damn it, now I'm really dead."

After she left, Trunks found himself wondering why it was that he preferred talking to his best friend over talking to his fiancé - the woman he would spend the rest of his life with.

A comprehensive answer to that question evaded him.

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I stretched my senses out into the night, muscles coiled in tense anticipation and eyes narrowed and searching in the darkness. My stance was alert and my breathing was shallow; every single fiber of my being was completely and utterly focused on one single objective: survival.

As it always was when I was playing the part of the prey rather than that of the predator.

My ears strained to pick up any sound that might give away my invisible opponent's position and I spread out my ki to try and pinpoint his location. A small breeze blew past and cooled my rigid, edgy body as I forced myself to keep my mind clear and calm, preparing for the attack that I knew was coming.

Unfortunately for me, my hunter was a master of playing shadow games.

According to my instincts, there was nothing here at all. I was surrounded by complete and absolute silence; not even the snap of a twig or the rustling of leaves broke the eerie stillness surrounding me, which was extremely disconcerting. I knew the dark prince was moving quickly and soundlessly around me, waiting for an opportunity to strike and an opening in my defenses, but I just couldn't find him. The complete lack of any sign of life around me threatened to make me falter in apprehension, which was precisely what I knew he was waiting for.

I didn't let him have his way.

My head snapped to the right as I threw myself sideways, avoiding Vegita's vicious aerial attack by mere millimeters. His gloved fist had been propelled downward so fast that before he could withdraw the unsuccessful attempt of an assault, it was driven directly past the soft grass and into the earth where it was buried up to his elbow, and I took this rare chance of his immobility to launch a few hits of my own.

None of them made it past his perfectly calculated and precisely executed blocks and evasive maneuvers.

I smirked.

Withdrawing his arm from the ground, he straightened, and his brows furrowed in concentration as he pushed his power level as high as he could do so without transforming, and soon his energy was pouring off of him in giant, overwhelming waves. I had to fight just to stay on my feet and eventually was forced to ease the stress of my legs by raising my own ki, ignoring the roar of his power and the daunting thrill of fighting against unbeatable odds. Suppressing the urge to grin, I focused my own power until a bright blue aura kicked to life around me, energy dancing around my body in spiky, peaking flames.

Righting myself, I drew in a deep, ragged breath and smirked openly at Vegita, who returned the favor. After adjusting our stances and letting out identical war cries, we threw ourselves at each other, lost in the addictive delight only Saiyans can derive from a battle.

And then we clashed.

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Trunks looked up from where, after he had patched things up with his fiancé, he had been reeled into going over wedding magazines with her, Bra, and his mother. Turning his head towards the exit, he noticed that two kis had just spiked sharply outside, which peaked his interest. He recognized one to be his father's, familiar in the sheer magnitude of its power and in the flagrantly strong, dark, and thick aura that characterized it. The other one, Pan's, was vaguely recognizable as hers, but it was nevertheless different from what he remembered her ki signature to be. It was brighter somehow, more challenging, with a dangerous edge to the cheerful brilliance that had completely dominated her aura so long ago. He started at how positively right it seemed, and how warm and content it made him feel deep in his heart.

Like the rest of her, the feeling was intoxicating.

Shaking himself out of his reverie, Trunks blamed his thoughts on a lustful infatuation he seemed to have acquired for Pan. Concluding that this situation was temporary and that in no time he would be able to look her in the eye normally again, he turned his attention to other matters. The fight that he knew was taking place outside stirred awake his Saiyan blood, and he quickly tuned out the earnest voices of the eager wedding planners in order to better attune his senses onto what was going on outside.

He did so just in time to feel the two great powers collide.

Impressed by the level of power Pan had reached and curious as to how well she was holding out against his father, Trunks excused himself absently and walked outside, as if drawn in by some indescribable urge to see the two warriors do battle. The others - Gohan and Goten especially - looked up at him curiously and followed the dazed-looking young man out of the cheerful yellow dome and unwittingly into a war zone.

They were met by an incredible sight.

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I laughed out loud - I couldn't help it, really. I was having too much fun. Yes, my muscles were aching horribly and blood was dripping from the corner of my mouth and various other wounds I had obtained during the fight, but my lips were stretched out in a wide, all-out grin, and I was sure that if Vegita weren't so goddamned composed all the time, he would have been doing the same.

I always felt happiest when I was in battle.

My blood roared in my ears, and I lost myself in the moment. Memories of my past - it seemed like a whole other life, it was so unfamiliar - assaulted me and I basked in the wonder of my childhood experiences. I saw all over again as if watching a movie my life as I was growing up - waking up early to spar with my grandfather for the first time ever, training with Trunks when I was a bit older and he was still only a babysitter and friend to me and nothing more, and touring the galaxy with the two men in my life who had affected my personality and goals more than any other people I had ever known.

My heart swelled at the mere thought.

I had shoved these wonderful memories away for so long that I was surprised I even remembered them. Yes, I still felt a strange sadness when thinking over on my childhood and how the only two people who ever took me seriously were Trunks and Grandpa Goku, but I never realized how important my past was to me. I would undoubtedly never have grown into the strong, able woman I had turned into if it weren't for my family and friends who would have given their lives just so I wouldn't once feel an ounce of pain, and as much as I hated to admit it, I needed and flourished under their protection. It was only after I had broken out of that protective shell that I had hardened emotionally as a result of seeing the universe through realistic and pessimistic eyes.

I realized how long it had been since I really had been myself.

Three whole years.

My brow furrowed.

It had been far too long.

It was a difficult exile that I had chosen for myself. I had been hurt so deeply by the fact that my love for Trunks would stay forever unrequited that I didn't realize the true magnitude of what I had decided to do. I cut off all contact with Earth for three years - with the exception of Vegita's rare and brief announcements - and I didn't even know how much it affected the people I loved so much. Losing all rational thought, I had blindly thrown myself down the only path that I could see - the one that would take me away from my family and friends, the people who loved me most and who I was trying to prove myself to, so I could protect them just as they had protected me.

I unwittingly hurt the very people I had been unconsciously trying to look after.

I was so selfish.

Hit with this realization, I lost my concentration, a gigantic mistake. My mouth fell open in shock at this new discovery, and my eyes stopped focusing on my opponent, opting instead to linger pointlessly on the grass hundreds of feet below me. Finally looking up from where I had been gazing into oblivion a split second later, my mind kicked back into gear just in time to see Vegita's blood-stained fist drive towards my face, where it connected squarely with the sensitive spot between my eyes.

I was thrown into a world of pain, and I blacked out.

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Trunks ignored the gasp of shock that went out as he saw Pan lose her concentration and take a direct hit between the eyes, and instinctively knowing that this would knock her unconscious, he hurled himself into the air and caught her before she hit the ground. Cradling her in his arms with more care than was necessary, he hovered gently to the ground, mentally scanning over her battered and bruised body in order to identify which other wounds she had suffered. He was met by a worried Gohan as he landed and Pan was suddenly pulled from his arms (which for some reason hurt emotionally almost to the point of physical pain), and his mother and sister immediately began shouting orders for a senzu bean.

His instincts screamed that she belonged in his arms. `Why did they taken her from me?' he suddenly thought wildly. He could sense that she needed him, and only him.

Trunks was pushed away from the unconscious figure of Pan and was left standing on the grass dumbly with her blood all over his hands, the crimson liquid staining the front of his shirt and sticking to the skin of his fingers.

It had been a long time since he last smelt the tangy, coppery scent of blood.

But this wasn't just any blood. This was Pan's blood, the blood of the girl who had grown up worshipping him, the blood of the fiery young woman who had listened to his problems and patched up his relationship with Marron. This blood belonged to the woman who he lo-

'No,' he thought to himself. It was the blood of the woman who was his best friend, and nothing else.

Looking down at the blood that coated his shirt and the skin on his hands, he suddenly felt like killing someone.

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My eyes snapped open and I sat up suddenly, extremely aware of the huge rush of replenishing energy that had washed over my previously beat-up body. Looking around me and seeing myself surrounded by the worried and eager looks of my friends and family, I realized that I must have been knocked out by Vegita's last hit, and I drowned myself in my own self- loathing.

'Ugh, how embarrassing, everyone probably saw me fall. Shit.'

Automatically pulling my calm-and-collected mask into place, I raised an eyebrow in what I hoped to be was a regally questioning way and stood up where I had been lying on the grass. Brushing myself off - and making a mental note to kill (or least try to kill) Vegita later - I crossed my arms across my cracked chest plate and scowled.

"Can I help you?" I demanded in a huff.

"How're you feeling, dear?" Bulma asked kindly.

I winced inwardly. Dende, it seemed as if everyone had seen me lose my concentration! What kind of warrior was I to do that? Feeling awkward and undeserving of the kindness everyone was showing me, I decided to make things more comfortable between us and replied as I would have done three years ago.

"Um, alright, I guess. I've taken worse hits," I said a more timid voice than I was used to. Everyone smiled, and my father opened his mouth no doubt to rebuke me for being so careless when -

"Hmph. Had I not powered down at the last moment, that blow would have taken your head off," came the curt, bored baritone voice of Vegita. I put my hand behind my head sheepishly, something I hadn't done in a long time. I loved the familiar feeling of it.

"Yea, I know, it was my fault I lost concentration." I hesitated, debating whether or not I should ask. Sucking in a deep breath, I took the plunge.

"So, how did I do?"

He looked at me stoically, expression unchanging and ever neutral. I waited for his opinion expectantly, unconsciously holding my breath.

Silence.

"You're too slow," he began suddenly and ruthlessly in his typical, uncaring voice. "Your movements are too easy to predict, and you don't attack aggressively enough. You take more hits than you give, you're easily distracted, and you are never focused completely on the battle at hand. In short, you lack discipline, creativity, and detachment - you are far too forgiving with your maneuvers, passing up opportunities to strike the opponent down, choosing instead to fake or move out instead of in, giving them time to recover. This type of thinking would get you killed in a real battle." He paused for effect. "You need more training."

Before I could stop it, my face fell.

He turned his back to the stunned group, and began to walk inside when he stopped a few feet away. His next few words caught me off guard.

"Not bad, brat. Your power level is impressive as far as females go, and your style has matured. Your skills are noteworthy."

And then he was gone, leaving me gaping in confusion and surprised elation.

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As Trunks stood in the background, watching his father give Pan as close to a compliment as he would admit, he felt a sudden sense of longing.

It was strange, but why did he have the sudden need to be on the receiving end of one as well?

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Author's note: Wow, it's been forever since I've dealt with fanfiction. Again, my apologies for leaving this fic on the backburner for so long - I've been extremely busy with college applications, ugh. I'll try to update more often, but I can't make any promises.

As always, thanks for your continued support!

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Disclaimer: Any and all characters belonging to Dragonball/Z/GT are the legal property of Toriyama Akira and/or FUNimation.