Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ What Binds Thee? ❯ Birthright ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Warnings: Violence, vague nudity, insanity.
Rated: R
Chapter: 3
Pairing: Goten/Trunks for now. Others hinted.



Son Gokou awoke to a sun-flooded bedroom, a warm body curled against him, and a distant smell of food. For a few moments, he wondered if he’d died again, but in the afterlife bodies weren’t so warm and strong.

“Vejita,” he whispered happily, the sweet smell of his prince strong in the air. The prince would most definitely be sore when he awoke. Gokou chuckled at the thought.

He wondered how their mating had happened, how Vejita was able to get past all the animosity of their history, but why question such a glorious gift?

This wasn’t guilt-free, of course. Chichi would not be happy at the news. Gohan and Goten would be quite shocked, and Gokou had no idea how Bulma would react. But he wasn’t concerned, because life always had a way of working out for the best.

He stretched before climbing out of bed and pulling on pants. Careful not to wake his lover, he stepped out onto the balcony to great the sunshine and clouds. His pleasant morning was interrupted, though. Outside on the grounds, Trunks trained.

The perfectly trimmed lawn was now a muddy mess. Trees burned in the distant, in no danger of creating a forest fire, but homes of innocent birds and squirrels had been destroyed. The lavender-haired demi-Saiyajin was coated in sweat although the temperature was low. He had burn marks on his pale flesh from countering his own attacks.

Gokou’s movement in the distant caught the teenager off-guard. He turned in what seemed to be a fit of rage, sending a blast soaring towards his Saiyajin elder.

Shocked at the power of this unexpected attack, Gokou was forced to increase his own level in preparation to block. This woke Vejita.

The blast halted just inches before the ascended warrior at the same moment Vejita appeared beside his mate. The prince deflected the attack into the heavens, unaware of the pause.

Below, Trunks’ chest heaved. His dark eyes shimmered with an unholy rage. Gokou waited, his golden aura not fading. Vejita could sense the unspoken tension between them, but its source was a mystery to both purebloods.

All of this took place in mere moments before the demi-Saiyajin turned and fled the scene. Vejita couldn’t tell if it was due to cowardice or something… more.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kakarrotto?” Vejita snarled. Gokou blinked, his ki fading and eyes darkening.

“I’m… not sure, ‘Jita,” he responded somewhat blankly. Gokou couldn’t put a name to his momentary hatred of Trunks. He’d never felt such an emotion towards any of his friends or family before. The look on Trunks’ face, the pulse of his ki, the threatening glare in his eyes had set off something instinctive and primal within Gokou’s most Saiyajin nature. He almost felt… threatened, as if his place at Vejita’s side was at risk.

The smell of bacon was growing stronger, and Gokou’s stomach decided then to remind everyone within earshot that it hadn’t been fed.

Gokou chuckled in embarrassment at Vejita’s groan of distaste. Again, he was reminded that he wasn’t suitable for Vejita in so many ways.

“Trunks has been behaving… oddly,” Vejita muttered, tugging on his clothes. Gokou blinked. Had Vejita been nude the entire time? “For some time now,” Vejita continued. “Ever since the brat’s mother started talking about marriage, I believe.”

“You think… Goten did something?” Gokou grew worried.

Vejita grunted. He hated not knowing, and hated admitting it even more.

**

Trunks had never really understood his father’s temper until it developed within himself. This uncontrollable rage was like an endless source of dark power. He felt that he could topple worlds, collapse civilizations, rape and pillage, murder and destroy… all without regret.

It was an unparalleled passion that nothing could match.

Normally, this power had an adverse effect on Vejita, but the symptom did not hold true in Trunks. He felt aware, alive, and in control of the entire cosmic scale. There was a confused peace inside his soul. All was at his mercy, and he felt his Saiyajin ancestry would have been proud of him despite his human blood.

From deep within the rainforests, he observed Son Gohan. Coated in sweat and rain, the thirty-something warrior battled his imagination. Although, to the outside world he was a perfect husband, scholar, and father, there was an ugly truth. Gohan hated the world, his father, Vejita, his normal life… everything. He longed for the days of villains and universal-jeopardy. Trunks could sense it, taste it, and smell it he saw it in Gohan’s eyes, the passion and drive and lust for so much more.

This scientist was a fascinating specimen, Trunks mused. His hypocrisy was baffling. Gohan stood against everything the Saiyajin race had sought… yet his blood, his soul yearned for the violence, the domination his heritage had rightfully deserved.

Trunks settled on a branch and observed his friend. Raindrops fell constantly, soaking his body, clothes, and hair, but it provided relief against the heat.

Gohan was stripped bare of everything but his shorts. His body was toned, fit, and beautiful. His glasses were off, leaving those large midnight eyes exposed. Despite his impaired vision, he could sense everything around him that moved, that breathed, that provided harm. Sight was a luxury for Saiyajin, but not a necessity. Trunks hid his ki as best as he could in hopes of not catching his old friend’s attention.

Minutes turned into hours as Gohan trained. Trunks watched, observed, learned every movement, every attack, everyone weakness and every strength.

Trunks realized that Gohan was actually very weak. His years being a scholar and a family man had left him blind to many warrior instincts. He would not be a threat to any real warrior, and as a hero… he would be a failure.

Trunks was disgusted. This was all that was left of the most powerful and proudest race that had ever existed.

And yet… the power… the beauty… the strength and the love that Gohan, Goten, and Trunks possessed was something their ancestors could never comprehend.

His mixture of feelings, of hatred and compassion, of devotion and outrage left the young prince lost in a sea of emotional confusion. In some strange way, Gohan rested on the verge of everything Trunks’ heart had ever desired… and he had no clue. He didn’t appreciate the miraculous gift of chance and fate’s favor.

For that, Trunks passionately hated him.

**

Skipping the horror that was educational classes of science or mathematics or something equally dreadful and boring, Goten entered the main headquarters of Capsule Corporations one afternoon in hopes of scoring a meal with his best friend and semi-boyfriend. (Although they technically could not be considered boyfriends, Goten still thought of Trunks that way.)

He paused as soon as he entered the large glass doors, greeted with nothing but madness! People rushed around, voices were loud and filled with excitement, there were actually two grown men jumping up and down like schoolgirls. People rushed back and forth, cell phones rang loudly, people yelled so they could be heard over others, keyboards clattered as they typed at their desks, receptionists moved like unholy horny demons… utter madness!

Goten nervously eased his way through the ground, dodging people as best he could. He eventually entered Trunks’ office, which was surprisingly peaceful. Trunks sat at his desk, playing solitaire on the computer.

“What the hell is going on? Did aliens land?” Goten exclaimed, peeking through the door at the insanity outside.

Trunks chuckled as he moved the cards around on the screen. “Aliens landed 50-something years ago, remember?” Click. Drag.

Goten moved over and sat on the desk. “C’mon, tell me Trunks!” he begged.

Click. “It’s just business.” Drag. “I’ve given the okay for Capsule Corps to branch out internationally. It’s a big deal for the guys. Bulma never wanted to have that kind of power across the globe.”

“Power?” Goten blinked.

Trunks grinned, never glancing away from the computer. “No one can compete with Capsule Corps. We’ll have a monopoly across the planet in less than a year, two max.” Click. Drag. Outside, clouds passed over the sun, darkening the room for a mere moment.

‘YOU WON’ displayed on the screen.

Goten felt nervous. For some reason, he didn’t like the sound of this.

**

Within a month new factories in all major companies were being built and new customers seduced. Within two years, Capsule Corporations had a powerful voice in every major country. By the time Trunks turned 24, C.C. had no competition and unrivaled influence.

Throughout the same span of time, humanity advanced technologically. Space travel became frequent. Aliens and humans learned of each other’s existence, and with Trunks assisting the government and influencing both sides in questionable ways, war was avoided. Very slowly, Capsule Corps began preparations to expand into outer space. They started and controlled regulation laws for space travel, trade rights, and communication.

It was soon that Capsule Corps became the middleman between humanity and aliens. Worlds submitted to C.C.’s polite and mostly violence-free takeovers. Using the Saiyajin legacy was unavoidable to Trunks, and despite the many years since the rein of the warrior race, the name still struck fear in the hearts of all.

A Saiyajin had survived… and not just a Saiyajin, a Vejita.

Some races fought, but a simple visit from Trunks, a simple demonstration of a Super Saiyajin’s unparalleled power prevented or struck down rebellion.

The expansion began peacefully enough, but it was corrupted. Though he denied it and though the image he created for the media and his friends suggested otherwise, Trunks was interested in one thing: universal domination… his birthright.


TBC.