Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Moon Travelers ❯ Chapter Two ( Chapter 2 )
The Moon Travelers
Chapter Two
// They're saying
Mama never loved him much
And daddy never keeps in touch
That's why he shies away from human affection
But somewhere in a private place
He packs his bags for outer space
And now he's waiting for the right kind of pilot
To come (and he'll say to him)
He's saying //
"What the hell are you doing here?" I finally managed out. Trunks looked up from the ham sandwich I had made him, raising an eyebrow.
"Coming to visit an old friend," he said, as if it were obvious. "Besides, I should be asking you the same thing. How the hell did you end up in Volterra? Last I remember is that you were going to stick around Satan City." I shrugged in reply.
"I changed my mind," I said quietly, sitting in the chair opposite his. "Where have you been for the last eight years, Trunks?" This time it was Trunks who shrugged.
"All over the world," he said, waving an expressive hand. "San Francisco. Berlin. London. Hong Kong. Sydney. Washington DC. Paris. Madrid. Stockholm. New York City. Bermuda. Anchorage. Rome, which is where I first heard of the great Professor Son Goten." He raised an eyebrow towards me, almost mockingly. "You published a book?"
I was annoyed at the warmth that rose to my cheeks as I shot back, accusingly, "How did you get the money to go to those places?" Trunks, to my surprise and fury, chuckled.
"It was easy, my dear Goten," he drawled, leaning back in his chair. "You should already know this, since you helped me with the plan. I had over a million dollars bequeathed to me as soon-to-be Vice-President of Capsule Corporation. I simply took the money and separated it into bank accounts all over the world. I faked applications, and got jobs whenever I felt like it, and added onto my fortune." He smiled, obviously pleased with himself. Of course, I had known about the money (it had been in the news for months after Trunks's disappearance and I had, after all, accidentally helped him with the idea), but I had wanted to hear him tell of his thievery in his own words.
I had had enough. Rising to my feet, I asked coldly, "If you were perfectly fine, why the hell didn't you talk to me? Or Marron? Or Pan?" I didn't bother mentioning Bra, for we both knew she would tell her father anything.
Trunks's smug smile disappeared, replaced by a frown. He stood, the half-eaten sandwich forgotten as we glared at each other.
"You would have told my parents where I was," he replied, his voice equally icy.
"I would not have!" I protested, but even then I recalled a half-hidden memory from that day eight years before...
...
"Is something bothering you, Trunks?" I questioned, looking up from my book of mythology. Chinese, to be precise. My lavender-haired friend shook his head, but his scowl deepened. I hated it when he scowled. He looked exactly (besides the different complexion) like a pissed-off Vegeta when he did. Which never boded well.
"There is too! What's wrong?" I asked, closing my book and watching him. "Whatever it is, don't worry about it. Just think about this: you'll be out of college in only two weeks-" His explosion was so sudden, so unexpected that I nearly fell off my bed as he yelled, ignoring the fact that we were in a dorm where anyone could hear us.
"That's the whole damn problem, Goten!" he roared, his eyes blazing with a fury I had never seen in him. Not even when Buu had come, or when Vegeta had died in that futile attempt... "That's the whole fucking deal!"
"But, in two weeks you'll be free," I weakly said, taken aback by my friend's anger. Then, as quickly as it had come, his fury vanished; leaving him looking exhausted and tired.
"No, Goten," he quietly informed me. "That's where you're wrong. In two weeks, my freedom will be gone. Forever. I'll be the Vice-President of Capsule Corporation, whether I damn well want to or not."
In a flash, I understood. His mother was forcing him to be Vice-President, even though he had told her time and time again that he wanted to be a doctor. Which was why instead of going into med school, he had gone into business, which he hated.
"Then don't be," I said, the words flowing from my lips before I could help myself. Trunks laughed, sounding bitter.
"As if Mom will listen," he sneered. "Or Dad." But I was on a roll.
"Come on, Trunks. Think about it. Even if you hated business, you still got straight As. Take a couple extra years of school, then add med school, and you can be a doctor. Your mother can't disinherit you. Besides, everyone, except your parents, knows that Bra wants that position more than you ever have." Slowly, the shadows in his eyes faded, and a look of hope filled his face. Then mischief.
"She can't disinherit me," he murmured softly, more to himself than anyone else. He sounded as if I had just opened the doorway to a world of possibilities.
I frowned at the look. "Of course she can't-" I halted in mid-answer as Trunks slowly looked up at me, smiling his familiar evil smile. "What are you planning?"
"Why the hell did I want to be a doctor for?" he replied, laughing to himself.
"Because you wanted to help people," I reminded him warily, but he simply shook his head.
"I automatically have at least a million dollars, Goten. I already have a degree in business. I'm set. I can do whatever the fuck I want." I stared in disbelief as he continued to laugh.
That was not what I had had in mind.
"You can't leave," I informed him, and his laughter stopped instantly, his face resuming its dark scowl.
"I sure as hell can," was his reply as he rose. "In fact, I could leave right now." I bolted to my feet.
"No you can't!" I said loudly, sensing my plan had given Trunks all the control instead of me. Trunks smiled smugly.
"Watch me," he said, and started for the door.
I'm still not sure why I did the thing I did next, but I did it.
I snatched the phone off the hook beside my bed, and yelled, "I'll call your parents! You won't have time to get the money before they get to the bank!" Trunks paused in step, and slowly turned back towards me. His look was one of both shock and betrayal as his eyes took in my determined face and the phone gripped in my white-knuckled hands. His face twisted with a hundred different emotions and he took a step towards me. Then another.
"You can't leave," I said for the second time in the last minute. For a moment he smiled, looking bitterly amused.
"Watch me." I didn't even try to block the fist that slammed into my jaw and sent me flying into the wall. I was too surprised.
"Trunks..." My faint whisper filled my ears as I watched him turn and walk away and out the door, disappearing down the hallway.
He didn't reply, and everything faded into darkness...
. . .
I bowed my head as the memory disappeared to the back of my mind once more, and was silent. I felt Trunks's eyes study me, but he said nothing. At last I spoke, surprised at how tired my voice sounded to my own ears.
"Why did you come back?"
Gentle fingers lifted my chin so that I met him eye to eye. He was smiling, a sad, soft smile that softened the weariness in his tired face.
"To apologize for hitting you," was his soft whisper.
I smiled.
"Come on. I was an asshole. I deserved it." Trunks chuckled, the sadness in his grin fading to amusement.
"Even if you did, I shouldn't have," he said to me, his fingers still on my jaw. Without knowing why, I reddened.
"What's done is done," I whispered, torn between asking Trunks to relocate his hand and to wait for him to move them himself.
Perhaps Trunks noticed my discomfort. Perchance he didn't. Nevertheless, the smile on his face widened into an achingly familiar, evil one that suddenly made me feel even more uncomfortable.
Raising an eyebrow, his fingers never leaving my jaw, he surveyed my attire.
"Not dressed for company, professor?" he teased, taking in more flesh than I usually showed anyone. I rolled my eyes, slipping into our old characters.
"It's the middle of the fucking night, Briefs. Of course I'm not dressed for visitors." Although my reply was sarcastic, I grinned to show I was joking.
Trunks shook his head in mock disapproval. "I thought your mother would have taught you to keep your home cleaner."
I half-smirked, still feeling Trunks's fingers acutely on my skin. "My mother's in Japan. I'm in Italy. Figure it out, Briefs."
"Why don't you figure it out for me?" His words were so soft that I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly.
"What?" An odd light gleamed in his eyes as he opened his mouth to reply.
(To be continued...heh. *ducks and runs from reviewers*)