Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Moon Travelers ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

The Moon Travelers

(Author's Notes: I adapted To The Moon And Back by Savage Garden to fit my story. Warning, this has yaoi (male/male relationship) in it. This is from Goten's POV about his past and about Trunks's mysterious disappearance, which occurred eight years before the story takes place. The pairing is G/T... well, that's kind of a duh... I've actually been to Volterra and Rome myself... The countryside is quite beautiful. There will be eight pages to accompany every chapter. This story is rated R for implied sex and such in later chapters. Well, enjoy! ~Cinaed)

Chapter One

// He's taking his time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside
Guess he knows from the smiles and the look in their eyes
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one //

The night was freezing as I opened the screen door and slid silently onto wooden-planked porch of my house. Yes, my house. After college, I had found a job as a professor of Japanese mythology at a university as far away from Satan City as I could manage without actually going that far overseas. I now lived a few hours outside the capital of Rome, in a tiny alabaster-making town called Volterra. Who would have thought, me, naive Son Goten, an established professor in Italy?

A small smile crossed my lips as I leapt soundlessly onto the porch railing. The house was small, of course, with only a kitchen, a bathroom, a tiny dining room, a small study, and a bedroom. But that would change as soon as I got that raise in three years. There had been some new law a couple years back that teachers, from kindergarten to law school, had to get a raise every five years. I don't know why they did it, but hey, the more money for me, the better.

Even as I balanced there, I knew there was only three more years until the next raise. I couldn't believe it. Seven years. Seven years since the end of college. That made eight years since I last saw Trunks... It was hard to believe that I had actually turned thirty-one only a month or two before. God, the very thought made me feel ancient.

I scanned the yard, admiring the landscape that Pan had designed as I teetered on the wooden rail. Who would have thought, my niece, a famous architect? Even at twenty-two, she was known for her imagination in landscape design. Somehow she had even managed to get into a college I had never heard of with a full scholarship. I couldn't believe my little niece was all grown up until I saw her at the family reunion with her latest boyfriend. I recalled his name being Christopher, or something like that. Some jock aiming for the majors, I think he was.

Goosebumps rose on my bare skin as I peered around, the cool night's breeze sending my hair flowing backwards slightly. I wore only a pair of light blue cotton jogging pants. I was all alone down this road. No one to see me half-clothed.

Suddenly I caught sight of an object I hadn't noticed before, one that Pan must have put in during her little "experiment" the weekend before last. My eyes narrowed.

"What the hell?" I growled, leaping from the rail and landing silently on the damp grass. For a moment I was startled by the cold wetness, then I remembered it had rained during classes. Damn. Now my feet would get soaked and freeze. Shrugging to myself, I padded barefoot towards the foreign object, almost against my will. If it was what I thought it was, I was going to kill Pan...

As I ventured closer, the moon peeked out from behind dark clouds, and illuminated the sculptures for a brief moment. But that was all the time I needed to take in every feature. I stopped dead, staring in shock, my hands instinctively curling into fists.

"Damn it, Pan," I whispered aloud, closing my eyes and trying to block out the sculptures' faces, "why did you have to go and do that?"

The sculptures were beautifully carved; there was no doubt about that. All five figures looked as if they would shake off their marble coverings and continue the actions they were frozen in. That very thought made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The five seemed to be portraying the very emotions that had been caught in the photograph that had been taken only a few weeks before Trunks had left for college. Has it really been thirteen years? God...

I had that very photo in my scrapbook. Pan must have coined it somehow. She did so love to make me miserable. Or maybe Bra had committed the crime. Perhaps even Marron...

But those three didn't know that Trunks and I had argued just before he vanished off the face of the earth. They didn't know that we had actually drawn each other's blood in anger, or spoken words that couldn't be taken back. And never would, now that Trunks was gone...

Even as the moonlight lit up the five's laughing faces, the memory sprang unbidden to my mind of the afternoon that picture had been taken. I could recall Trunks's insane smirk even now and that teenage jackass attitude of his. And the way he could make us all laugh without even trying...

. . .

"Go fuck yourself, Briefs," I said, crossing my arms and meeting Trunks's gaze squarely. He smirked evilly in return, as the troubled look vanished.

I didn't know why my best friend had been so depressed lately. Ever since the beginning of his senior year, he had been moody, ranging from completely evil to completely depressed.

"Only if you help me," he teased, the mischievous gleam once more in his sapphire blue eyes. I smiled mentally. The dark look that he had been wearing was completely gone now, replaced by pure evilness.

"Fat chance of that, asshole," I shot back. I was glad that our parents had left the five of us alone for once, since whenever Trunks and I were around each other, we always seemed to curse. Even in front of seven-year-olds.

"Too bad," Trunks said in fake disappointment. "I was looking forward to it."

"Jackass. Cheating on poor Lena. Or is it Allison, now? Or Nicky?" I accompanied the words with a punch to his shoulder, which he gleefully returned and sent me sprawling onto the park's grassy terrain.

"Could you two please stop cursing?" sighed one of our smaller companions, and both Trunks and I laughed.

"No," we said as one, and the complainer, my dear niece, sighed and buried her nose in the book she was currently reading. Into the World of Architecture, or some sort of crap like that. How the hell a seven-year-old could enjoy reading that, I'll never know.

"Please?" Pan asked again, and I sighed. The problem was, Marron had become the object of Pan's affections, as had Trunks, and now wherever either Trunks or Marron went, both my niece and Trunks's little sister went. Of course, I was always with one of the other, so I was always with the two little girls.

"Sorry, kiddo, but we've got to vent some steam," said Trunks, flashing her a winning smile, which the seven-year-old immediately melted at.

"Never mind!" she chirped, and continued to read the architecture book as Trunks and I flashed each other smiles. Kids.

"So, what college are you planning to go to?" Marron questioned Trunks, and instantly the smile was gone from his face. Inwardly I began my string of curses that accurately describe Krillin's daughter at the moment.

"Some college," he mumbled, his normally clear eyes darkening. I decided to change the subject.

"Marron, did you see last night's football game? We kicked ass!" Marron turned to grin at me at the mention of our latest high school game.

"Yeah, we did," she agreed. She suddenly elbowed Trunks. "But that's because the purple-haired wonder saved the day, eh?" Trunks cracked a tiny smile as I laughed.

Trunks had been the one to score the game-winning touchdown.

"Hey, I've got an idea," Trunks abruptly announced, causing all four of us to watch him curiously. Trunks's ideas were never peaceful.

"What is that, o mighty leader?" I finally ventured, and Trunks began to grin his insane smirk, the one that we all loved.

"Let's see Bra and Pan can fly," he declared, grabbing Bra by the shoulders and tossing her into the air. The eight-year-old squealed in delight as she soared several feet until plummeting back into his arms.

Then it was Pan's turn. I grabbed my giggling niece and threw her.

"Whee!" she yelled before falling back into my awaiting grasp. "More!"
So we did, throwing Bra and Pan up and down like sacks of potatoes while Marron watched, amused by our antics.

Trunks and I finally stopped, collapsing on the ground in mock-faints of exhaustion. Still laughing, the two little girls pounced on our stomachs and began to jump, chanting, "More! More!" That seemed to have become their favorite word.

Trunks and I exchanged hidden smirks, and then slowly rose, sending both sister and niece flying.

"I know!" Trunks said brightly, as if he had just thought of the diabolical plan. "Let's see if Marron can fly!"

"You all know I can- No!" Marron half-groaned, half-laughed as Bra and Pan charged at her, Trunks and I close behind. She turned to flee, and we all froze at the flash of camera. As one, we turned to face my goofily grinning father, from whose hands a camera dangled.

"Sorry," he said, shrugging. "I couldn't resist." The five of us gave each other looks, and we all began to grin.

"Get him!" Trunks roared, and we charged.

. . .

I shook my head, the memory dissolving as I did so. That had been so long ago... Thirteen long years...

The sudden sound of a motorcycle engine made me jump, and I looked up, startled. Motorcycles never came down my country lane, ever. It might be someone I didn't want near my house. I wasn't going to stick around to find out.

"What the-" I began, bolting for the porch and the safety of my abode, very much aware that I was only wearing worn, old jogging pants, with my chest bare for anyone to see.

I entered the house at a run, bolting for the bedroom, and collapsing on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. My breathing was loud in my ears as I waited for the motorcycle to pass. Damn, I was out of shape. When was the last time I had been to a gym, or sparred against anyone? I racked my memory banks, but couldn't recall. Maybe when Dad had come over on the anniversary of my first year out of college, seven years ago. Hell, no wonder I was out of shape.

Then I heard the motorcycle come to a roaring stop in front my house. I froze, incredulous. There was no possible way I knew anyone who rode a bike. Maybe one of my students... I checked my watch as the motorcycle's engine died. 2:01 PM. If any of my students were out at a time like this to my house, something must be wrong. Maybe someone had a problem with an assignment? Once more, I searched my brains for information. But the only homework I had given them was a ten-page essay due in two weeks... No one should come complaining to me at two o'clock in the morning about that assignment, especially not any of my students. They knew to come to me right after class.

I heard boots make their way down my driveway, and swore loudly. Why was I lying in bed, without a shirt on, while someone walked up to my doorway? Bolting out of bed, I hurried over to my dresser, cursing softly as I saw that all my shirts were in the laundry except for two white wife-beaters. Damn. When had I ever gotten one of those? Well, a wife-beater would have to do. Better a wife-beater than nothing, I guess.

I was mid-way pulling it on when someone knocked on my door. I swore, yanking the white cotton down and not bothering to slip on my slippers. Whoever this asshole was, he would have to listen to my rants. I didn't appreciate people at my door this late. Or rather, at my door, period. Unless I invited them, of course.

Racing to the door, I threw it open wide with a snarled, in Italian, "What the hell do you want?"

"Well, hello to you too," a tired voice replied, and I actually looked at the person who stood in my doorway, the porch's automatic light illuminating his gray, exhausted face.

My jaw dropped. I knew those bright blue eyes that now gleamed with faint humor at me. I remembered those lavender locks that tumbled wildly to his shoulders as he stared back at me now.

My mouth moved soundlessly as I gawked at the man from my past. Finally I managed a single word through my incredulous lips.

"Trunks?"

Trunks Briefs smiled. Not a pleased smile, nor a mocking one. He wasn't amused either, or sad. He just... smiled. The only emotion I could read was in his eyes, which held a bitter glint to them.

"Hello, Goten," he said, his voice lower than I remembered it being. "Long time no see."


To be continued...