Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ The Story Of You And Me ❯ Part Three ( Chapter 5 )

"GOTEN!"

Hmmm?

"Goten! Wake up! It's almost past noon and your still in bed, young man! Where do you think you are that you can sleep in all day when there are chores to be done and school work to finish?!" she screams through my bedroom door, pounding her fist and shaking the house. I swear, my mom has no tolerance for being young. No wonder Gohan moved out the second he got married. Makes me wonder if that's why he got married.

"Goten! Can you hear me in there?!?!"

I've lived in this house long enough to know what will happen if I don't answer this very second. "Yeah... yeah... I'm up. Just... give me a minute," I half mumble, wiping the sleep from my eyes with the back of my hand. This is what I get for staying out until five o'clock in the morning, I suppose.

I can still here my mother go on about it as I drag myself out of bed, still half asleep and dressed in the same clothes I left the house in last night. Hopefully, my dad is home somewhere to save me from her inevitable lecture about how I should be acting for a mature seventeen-year-old by now, because I really don't want to hear it. Anyway, it's not like it's completely my fault for staying out so late - it was Trunks' idea in the first place to hang out, and if he didn't get so goddamn drunk, I wouldn't have had to drag his ass home and take care of him all night.

Well, it's not like he hasn't done the same for me plenty of times - it's only fair that I return the favor. Hell, I would have done it anyway - it's Trunks.

For a second, I catch a glimpse of myself in the small mirror over my dresser, littered with all kinds of ticket stubs and loose pictures of things we've done together since I've last cleaned my room, or even slept in my room, come to think of it. My hair is a mess, but not nearly as crazy as it used to be before I cut it short. I was just tired of hearing the "you look just like your father, Goten"-comment for the millionth time, so I decided to start looking like Goten already instead of just a younger version of my dad. Don't get me wrong - I love my dad and I know he's the greatest... but looking like the guy who saved the world a hundred times over definitely comes with a heavy responsibility. Maybe no one actually says anything to my face, but I know that's what they're thinking. So I chopped it off, save my random spikes jetting forward in the front. This was right around the same time Trunks started parting his hair in the middle as opposed to the lopsided cut he's had all his life as a kid.

After I change out of my clothes into something else probably just as wrinkled on the floor of my room, I head down to the kitchen to find something to eat. But before I can even get two feet into the door, my mom already starts ripping into me for anything and everything that reminds me how I'm the 'Second Best Son' in this family. She doesn't even turn around from the pile of dishes she's washing, just laying on the guilt from over her shoulder without even an opening question.

"Honestly, Goten! I've raised you better than this. You should be more responsible for your age, instead of gallivanting around with that spoiled, arrogant delinquent you hang around with. He's no better than his par-"

"Trunks is my best friend, mom! Don't talk about him like that!" I snap back before realizing the ramifications of my quick mouth. Normally, I don't ever talk back to my parents - no matter what - so it's no surprise that my mom looks at me like she's going to have a heart attack. I didn't mean for it to come out that way, but I'm just tired of her talking about Trunks like he's this bad influence on me. She doesn't know anything about him. Or us.

"SON GOTEN! Don't you ever use that tone with me again, do you hear me?! I will not have a disrespectful son living under my roof!" she yells, her black eyes narrowing straight at me. My mom doesn't have the power that I have, but like Trunks' mom, there is a reason that none of us cross her. Before she can continue, my dad thankfully comes to my defense, stepping around behind her to defuse the bomb.

"Oh, Chi Chi, he's just being a kid. I'm sure he and Trunks didn't mean to stay out so late last night, did you son?" he motions to me for a quick response, giving a wink behind her back. Sometimes, I forget that my dad can be so cool about things sometimes, as he's covered for me and Gohan many times throughout the past few years. "They're young - let the boys have some fun once in a while." Before she can say another word, he bends down to give her a kiss on the cheek to calm the beast that is my mother, which always seems to work somehow. I'm reminded that I have to thank him for saving my ass yet again the next time we spar.

His tactic only works for exactly two seconds, all though it does mellow her somewhat.

"That's no excuse, Goku! Your son has been skipping out on school and on his studies to waste time with that friend of his and I don't like it one bit! He should be trying to settle down and find a girl to marry, not spend all his time training and partying!" She motions her direction back to me and I try my hardest to bite my tongue from lashing out again. She waits for a response from my dad to agree with her, but he just smiles back, telling her that he's still on my side. "I can still smell the alcohol on him, Goku! So don't tell me that hooligan is a good influence on him." She walks right up to me, reminding me of where most of this speech is coming from in the first place. "He may have everything set, but you still need to work for a scholarship, mister. You haven't been born with the luxury of having a silver spoon in your mouth..."

I don't want to hear anymore.

"I'm going out!"

"Where are you going?!"

She doesn't need an answer, does she?

"I don't want that boy to jeopardize your future, Goten! Do you hear me, young man?" she shouts as I open the door, now more of a sound of motherly desperation in her voice that only she could unleash in a moment like this. I grip my hand firmly against the frame of the door, trying with everything I have to not sound like a child, all though I know that's what she will think of me anyway. I'll always be the baby, no matter how much I've grown up.

"Trunks is in my future, mom." Without furthering the conversation any more, I slam the door behind me, perhaps a little harder than I meant to, giving me the last word without any more questions. But before I take off for the one place I want to be the most, I can already hear the argument insuing on the other side, no doubt started by my outburst. Not that the argument is two sided - it never is. But nevertheless, I think she sounds more upset than mad, and now my poor dad has to take the blunt end of it.

I listen closely.

"I don't understand why he's acting like this, Goku. This isn't my Goten... he isn't..."

"...Seven years old anymore?" he laughs. "You have to face it Chi Chi - our son isn't a little boy anymore. He's grown up fast."

"But why isn't he looking for a girlfriend then? He's almost eighteen years old, Goku! He should be showing some kind of interest in this and... he's not," she cries, making my heart ache for causing my mother so much grief over something she doesn't have the first clue about. I know she wants me to follow in Gohan's foot steps and marry young and spawn her another grandchild and live ten feet from her front door, but I'm not ready for that yet.

What I want right now has nothing to do with that. There's too many things I want to do before I tie myself down to one girl. I want the chance to be Son Goten first, not Chichi's son, or Goku's look alike. I need to be me before I can be a we. Well, a 'we' with anyone besides Trunks... but he doesn't count.

He's not a girl.

My father steps in to defend me as usual, and I'm starting to think he's the only one who can even see my side at all. "Goten is just really focused with his training right now and I think we should support him with it, Chi. He's young - kids don't get married at the age that we did anymore." His voice lowers to her. "Maybe we should just let him figure out what he wants to do on his own, don't you think? Even if that means he's spending his time right now with someone who can understand what it's like to be what he is."

"But then why doesn't he talk to Gohan? Or you? Why has he been shutting out his family like this for that boy?!" Quite sobbing breaks my heart. "The two of them... they're too old to be behaving like this. It's... it's just not proper."

Her voice muffles, probably cut off from being held by my dad. I hate that she feels like I don't care about my family anymore because it's not true, but I need Trunks' friendship more than I can explain to her. She won't understand. Nobody will. We will always be there for each other, and just replacing him with some girl just to please my mother's wish for more grandchildren is not an option for me. Somehow, I don't think it will ever be.

I can't stand here and listen to this anymore. My feet lift from the ground, and without raising my ki any more than I have to, I fly to someplace where I'll forget about all of this. Someplace where I feel like everything is like it's supposed to be. The one place I never want to leave.

For the past few days, Trunks has been making the slow process of moving out of his house into his own place located Uptown in West City. He's not officially moved in yet, but I don't blame him for wanting to get out in the first place. It's the same reason I want to. Like my own mother, Bulma's become just another one of those people who sees us as 'inappropriate' now, and answering endless questions on a regular basis over the dinner table was more than enough reason for Trunks to pack up and get out on his own already. He tells everyone that it's because of the new position at Capsule Corporation his mom is making him take, giving him more time to handle miscellaneous business matters and become an adult about it. But I know the real reason.

For everyone else, though, it sounds perfectly understandable that the ninteen-year-old Vice President of one of the most powerful companies in the world is finally making the move out of his 'mommy's house' and getting his own place already, so nobody has objected so far to my knowledge. I, personally, couldn't be more excited about it. The huge, warehouse-style loft that Trunks picked out, located in the middle of West City's culture district is, by far, the coolest place I've ever seen, and since his comfy business account at Capsule Corporation is picking up the enormous rent tab, price was never an issue when he went hunting around for his new place.

Other than the two of us drinking at his new place last night with a bunch of the guys from his office and friends from high school to break in the new joint, nobody's even seen it. Not even his parents, since we both figure that Bulma will have a fit for her son picking out such an expensive and oversized place as a first apartment. But little by little, he's been moving his stuff over, buying even more stuff along the way to fill it up, and I think after this weekend, we'll pretty much have all of it over and we can officially move in.

I say we because I will probably be spending as much time there as Trunks will, all though I'm sure I'll be getting hell from my mom once she figures out my plan.

Trunks asked me to live with him before he even started looking for a place, but because I still have another year of high school, my parents weren't exactly supportive of the idea, especially since it would either require me switching schools or dropping out - neither being and option. So when Trunks was deciding what kind of place to look for, it was really no surprise that he looked for a place that both of us could live in 'unofficially' until the second I graduate school, whether I would be the official roommate or not. We both knew I'd be spending every chance I got at the place anyway, which would pretty much make me a roommate, if not simply by default. And besides, it was only on the other side of town from Capsule Corporation, so it wasn't like I wouldn't be out in this direction anyway.

As I soar under the hot afternoon sun at my normal leisurely speed, I think of how awesome it's going to be to be with each other as much as we want without having to deal with all of the bullshit we usually have to put up with when we're home - Nobody to look at us weird. Nobody to constantly question why we're so close. Nobody to tell us it's wrong.

I find myself picking up the pace, flying faster over the mountains that overlook the city in front of me so that I can finally feel normal again.

My dad's been acting strange around me for weeks. Not his regular indifference, mind you, but he seems to be watching me. Keeping track of what I'm doing and where I'm going. It kinda freaks me out to have him always looking over my shoulder, but I figure that it's probably because I'm moving out or something. Not that I can figure out why he'd even give a shit about that in the first place - he's always telling me to "grow up and to stop fucking around with my life", so you'd think he'd want me out of the house already.

Hey, that's fine with me. Let Bra deal with him - I'm over trying to figure him out.

"Does Kakarott's brat know you're leaving this house? I don't need him coming over here like a lost puppy looking for you, you know," he remarks from the door, his arms no doubtably folded across his chest to look as tough as you can with a giggling seven-year-old latched on to his neck. Bra can make even my father look ridiculous sometimes.

I only turn to face him for a second, and instead dryly replying as I continue to pack the last of the books from my shelves into a box. "Yes, father. He knows I'm moving." I roll my eyes at the stupidest question. "And his name is Goten, dad. Goten. You know, the kid I've been friends with for my entire life?"

No reaction to my sarcastic tone, even though I can't tell by Bra's ever present screeching overpowering my hearing. "Daaaaaddy! Let me down!!!" A clumsy thump on the hardwood floor lets me know that he actually let her go without a fight, but knowing my sister, I seriously doubt she's even phased - she's got a head even thicker than my mom's.

She comes running into my room and flops dramatically on my bed, like most little girls her age would when their trying to get attention. With Bra, it always works. Even with my dad.

"Truuuuunks, I don't want you to leave. Pleeeeease stay! I'll never see you again," she pretends to pout, propping herself up on her elbows with her chin in her hands. She's such a ham. "I'll be so sad if you leave me!"

Her act works. I drop what I'm doing and scoop her up in my arms, throwing her upside down over my shoulder and tickling her stomach. The laughing is deafening as I gruff in her ear, "You know you can't get rid of me, Bra. I'm never leaving you alone!" All though I will miss being the role of Big Brother everyday once I'm gone.

"But you're going to be with Goten all the time now. You'll forget about me! I know it..." she trails off.

"Goten won't let me forget about you, Little Princess. He's got a crush on you, you know," I smile as I whisper secretly to her, making her light up and blush all at the same time. I know that she drools all over him just like any other little seven-year-old girl would, I suppose, but I certainly know how to push her buttons about it.

"Shut up, Trunks!!! Put me down, now!!!" she shrieks, jumping to the ground and folding her arms to look all tough in front of me.

Like father like daughter.

My dad steps up from behind her. "Bra, go bother your mother in the lab. I need to talk to your brother for a minute," he tells her, giving her a pat on the back to help her find her way out of the room. Since she's still pretending to be mad at me, it doesn't take alot for her to leave. At least not after being promised an ice cream cone for lunch in the garden with the Prince of All Saiyans. Funny how my dad calls himself the last true warrior in the universe, but still melts under the tiny hand of my little sister whenever she bats her eyes. Now that's power.

I shift my attention back to my packing. His intention to talk to me alone here is actually making me a little nervous, and I don't know if I should be worried. There's a long silence between us as he watches me pack, or so I assume. I don't look over to see what he's waiting for.

"I know you don't intend to live alone in this new place you've found for yourself." He doesn't waste any time getting to a point.

"What?"

"I'm not as gullible as your mother, Trunks. I know what you've been doing with that boy - I can smell his sent all over you." Blunt as ever as he watches me fumble with the book in my hand.

I barely conjure up a decent response to get myself out of the corner I've been backed into. I feel like I'm going to pass out. "We fuse... alot, dad. And we spar. I'm sure he smells just as much like me, too." I don't think that quite came out like I intended it to. Crap...

He doesn't buy any of it. He just uses that monotone emotion of his that always seems to make things sound more like he's giving orders. "I don't care what you choose to do with the boy in your free time. I just want you to listen to the blood running through your veins, instead of the human garbage you've been fed your whole life by your mother - about what young men your age are supposed to do."

I'm sure I look as confused as I feel.

"You're Saiyan instincts will only be satisfied through a bond that human courting will not allow you to develop, so don't be so damned concerned about what this human culture thinks of it. I want you to at least respect what you are."

"I... don't think I understand?" I swallow hard, hoping he didn't notice the sweat drop running down the side of my face. Why is he telling me this now?

He waits a second and walks up to me closer, arms still crossed, looking me dead in the eye. There's only been a few times in my life where my dad has sat me down and formally told me about the Saiyan culture, and what it means to be the royal heir to the throne and carry it out, even if I am the last one to do so. In fact, it's been years since he's really said anything about it and I was starting to think he wasn't going to anymore. The last big talk was about my sword and why it was important that I master my weapon, but that was a while ago. I have no idea where he's going with this one.

For the first time since he's been in my room tonight, he softens his voice. Maybe because he doesn't want anyone to hear. "Your mother never wanted me to encourage you to bond with the mate you choose someday, but as my son, I want you to honor your Saiyan blood. The last of a royal line will at least know how to properly mate in the true sense of his culture," he says to me, silently asking me to give him the satisfaction that I will at least give him this much. I may not have the physical Saiyan traits that I know he wishes his own son had, but I have always honored what it means to be the last of our kind the best I could.

I only nod in understanding, letting him continue to me about what is involved in the ritual, and what things need to happen in order for the bond to complete once it has formed. Also how strong it can become if both are submitting to it, and what could happen if it should ever become broken.

I can't imagine having to do this with a girl someday, and I'm pretty sure it would scare the shit out of her even if I could get her to go through with it. On Vegetasei, rough, physical mating under so many circumstances and instincts was probably common. But here on Earth, it sounds more like borderline assault. How my dad ever got my mom to do it is totally beyond me!

I listen to everything he tells me about it, all though I don't really understand how it works. I'm told that I will know what to do when the time is right, but I'm starting to think that I'm not as Saiyan as I thought I was, since none of this seems like natural instinct to me at all! I just can't imagine having this driving force inside me that would make me want to do this with anyone, much less someone who will understand why it is so important that I continue my culture. Even if I'm the last one left who will ever do it.