Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ When You Least Expect It ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball/Z/GT nor any of its characters or creations.

Pairings: Gohan/Akui (OC); Gohan/Mirai Trunks

Chapter Warnings: Relationship Abuse, Delusional Saiyans, Self-Mutilation, Hints at previous attempts of suicide, and of course, Yaoi.

ooOoOoo

When You Least Expect It

Chapter Four:

A soft moan broke the morning silence of the guest room, wild ebony locks splaying over the white silk sheets as he tossed about, unable to find peace even in his dreams. Obsidian eyes widened as he shot into sitting position, his heavy breathing filling his ears, chasing away the screams within his dreams. Bowing his head, he allowed his warm forehead to touch the cool material of his blankets as he pushed away the remnants of his dream. His harsh panting slowed as he breathed deeply in order to calm himself. Releasing a sigh, he pushed the sweat dampened sheets from his body and headed toward the shower, knowing that sleep could not be reclaimed that night.

After a cool shower, Gohan moved into his room, saddened by the knowledge of the empty bed that awaited him. As he stood before the window, covered merely by the thick white towel swathed around his narrow hips, he allowed the early morning light to warm his skin. He could faintly feel the trailing hands upon his chest, the ghostly arms that wound around him gently as he watched the morning dawn. A faint wind passed over his neck, brushing his sensitive crevices with a talented tongue, causing a deep shiver to run through his body.

Gohan quickly brushed the tears from his eyes as he closed the shades of the window, rushing to dress, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in those arms that haunted him. Utilizing skill born from years of managing mental anguish, he clamped a hold of his mental foundation, forcing himself to move on, silently reassuring himself that soon enough, it would all be over and back to normal. He had gone through far worse.

Images of his father's death at the hands of Radditz, Piccolo's sacrifice, the pain of his neck being broken on Planet Namek, his father's anger towards him after turning Super Saiyan for the first time, the loneliness his father had always caused flashed through his mind briefly. Just as he moved to push it all away, the darker images of Cell and beyond crossed over. His father's goodbye before teleporting away, Mirai's shock and death, years of loneliness and torment before his father's callous reprise, the death of everyone at Buu's hands, each memory burned into his brain. Soft touches grazed over the thick hatch of scars over his arms, the rough feel of those still healing sending jolts through him. For every scar, a story lay behind it. For every time he failed, a deep gash marked. For everyone he had ever disappointed or hurt, a trail of blood had followed. All creating a twisted painting of crimson blood and marred flesh.

Unable to look at his masterful work, he quickly pulled on a pair of pale kaki cargo pants. A fitted dark blue long sleeve shirt covered his self inflicted marks, hiding his physical shame from the world. A twisted smiled played on his face as he looked down at his clothes. The outfit had been from the pile of his own clothes that had always been stored in the spare rooms of Capsule Corporation. Gohan could not help but noticed that he had not grown very much over the past two years. The shirt that used to stretch tightly over his broad chest, tracing the design of the thick muscles that hatched over his entire body hung looser, fitting to his newer physique. Pants that hung nicely on his waist now traced low on his hips, his hipbone clearly visible above the hem, showing off a line of his flat stomach.

Shaking his head, he pulled on a pair of boots from underneath the bed before heading downstairs. Carefully, the demi-Saiyan avoided the kitchen, not looking forward to discovering if Bulma's cooking skills had improved over the past two years. Instead, he found himself watching as two smaller half breeds stared at the television with intent. A soft smile appeared, his hardened face softening at the sight of the two best friends. Stifling the sob that threatened to break out at the first sight of his little brother in two years, the very child he had been forced to play father to. Instead, a gasp of air resounded in the room, catching the attention of the duo.

Obsidian locked with ebony, the two brothers staring at each other, shock plainly written onto the younger's face. A large grin overbore any other feature upon his youthful countenance as he jumped up and ran, full force, toward his brother. With all of his Saiyan strength, Goten squeezed his brother, the pure joy of seeing him over taking all of his senses. Gohan's lack of breath and pained grimace were ignored as he fully greeted his long lost brother. Stepping back to scold the older of the two, Goten was able to see his brother's condition for the first time.

Gohan leaned heavily against the neighboring couch, feeling as if he had just been run over by a semi truck. His lungs burned as he took in the delicious air he had been denied while his brother expressed his joy. Blood pounded through his body, filling him once more as circulation returned, bringing the aches and pains with it. Fire spread through his chest as the extent of the damage came full face. Gohan could feel the familiar pain of broken and bruised ribs where his brother had squeezed the most, sending the pounding waves of pain over his body. However, his face showed nothing of this, only to push away the pain and smile at his brother.

"It's good to see you too ototo.[1]"

"Where have you been oniichan?[2] We were all so worried when you just disappeared." The grief was apparent in his endless orbs.

Saddened by the selfishness he had shown by not contacting his family, Gohan wrapped his arms around his weeping brother. "I'm so sorry little brother, I'm so sorry."

"You won't go away like that again will you Gohan?"

Gohan nearly melted at the enlarged velvet eyes that stared at him, pleading with him. "Never again."

A blinding smile quickly appeared on Goten's face as he moved to assault his brother once more, quickly stopped as the ignored half breed Prince of this dimension caught hold of the back of his best friend's shirt. "Stop Goten. You might kill him if you do that again."

Goten smiled sheepishly while sending an apologetic look towards his brother, who quickly ended the youngest Saiyans guilt as he spoke. "I'm fine. Nothing a senzu bean won't cure."

"I'll go get you one, keiji."[3] Trunks said as he left the room.

"Thanks otoutobun."[4] Gohan called to his fading form.

Goten stubbornly clung to his arm as they waited. The sight of the small pale green bean sent a rush of relief through his body. Eagerly, Gohan consumed the small legume, enjoying the tidal waves of energy that crashed upon him, each wound mending itself in seconds. The damage his brother had done disappeared, just as the black eye he had sported from the night before faded.

Vegeta snorted as he entered the room, his deep voice traveling through the room. "Weak brat. You haven't been training have you? Beat up by another brat. I expected better from you, gaki."[5]

Gohan simply rolled his eyes at his former mentor's callous demeanor that loyally disguised the worry and wonder within the Saiyan Prince's mind. Yet, that single question burned into him. Training had been his way to release his emotions after the Cell Games, but he had immersed himself into his studies to forget the pain that fighting brought him. After reaching Mystic, he was technically the strongest one, only to allow that to fade.

A rough hand tightened over a muscled forearm. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Just training koi. Nothing to get all anal about."

"Training? Just training?" An open hand contacted with his face sharply, intent to strike him down. However, Gohan merely stood, staring at his boyfriend with confusion directed at the sneer that painted its way across Akui's face. "You barely felt that didn't you?"

Unsure of where his lover was leading the discussion, he simply nodded.

"Freak." Akui hissed. "What you're doing is not simply training, but feeding a dream your bastard father made for you, turning into nothing more than a worthless freak, a monster not worth the life that flows through your veins. Are you so determined to win their affection that you will continue to destroy yourself?" Wide blue eyes stared back at Gohan, the harsh words spoken in nothing more than a whisper. Softly, Akui placed his hand upon the demi-Saiyan's shoulder, his fingers gliding over his cheek. "Fight it, love, don't let the monster within you consume you. Stay with me."

Onyx eyes softened at the gentle plea his usual stoic lover made. Ever since Cell, he had always felt that a dark essence filled him at the use of his power. He had been eternally plagued with the horror of knowing he had become a sadistic monster, bent on blood against the bioengineered warrior. Closing his eyes, he slowly allowed his ki to recess, lowering his astronomical ki level to nothing more than a mere human, beginning his constant battle to keep it there.

A war that would soon become nothing but a memory. Closed eyes never seeing the gleam within his lover's eyes as he watched, smirk firmly in place.

"No, Vegeta, I have not been training." He said neutrally. "The world does not, nor never has, revolved around the régime you keep. I have more important things to do than become a mindless slave to bloodlust and fighting."

Vegeta stared at the boy, his face blank, before silently turning and stalking from the room, back to the safety of his gravity chamber, Gohan's knowing eyes upon his back the entire time.

Bulma and Mirai no Trunks soon entered the room, a bright smile upon the blue haired woman's face, while Trunks merely gave a tight lipped smile and an apologetic glance to Gohan.

"Gohan, I called up everyone and told them to be here tonight!" Bulma announced with a large smile. "Since Goten is here for the day, he can't go and tell your parents you're here. What a surprise that will give them! And, of course, Yamcha, Krillin, Juuhachi and their daughter, your parents, us, and . . ." A look was quickly directed to the two younger in the room. "Trunks and Goten can go and ask Piccolo and Dende to join us of course. Did you want to call Akui as well Go-chan?"

Gohan looked at her in confusion and bewilderment. As incredibly good as it would be to see his family and friends, he had hoped to avoid the questions they would ask, especially from his parents. As for Akui, Gohan quickly pondered on how such an intelligent woman as Bulma Briefs could be so incredibly dense at times.

Mirai, who quickly picked up on his friend's feelings, looked toward his mother. "I don't think Akui will be joining us tonight, okaa-san." Lowering his voice, he leaned toward Gohan. "Sorry, I couldn't stop her. She's been up all night planning for this."

Gohan merely nodded at his friend and gave a quiet note of thanks to the cheerful genius before standing. "Um, Trunks . . . I was thinking we should go now."

Smiling, Mirai stood up, brushing off his stonewash blue jeans and fixing his black sleeveless shirt, gently kissed his mother on the cheek and gave his goodbyes, before exiting the room. Gohan simply stood, bowing to Bulma and ruffling his brother's and Chibi Trunk's hair, following his friend out of the compound.

Walking in companionable silence, the two demi-Saiyans made their way through the crowded streets, heading towards Gohan's apartment. Hesitantly, Gohan spoke. "Oi, Trunks . . . do you think everyone is going to be terribly upset with me?"

Mirai studied his dark haired demi for a moment before speaking. "I'm not sure Gohan. I'm sure everyone will understand, but you'll have to watch out for your mother. She'll probably either faint or go spastic. But other than that, it should go fine."

A sad smile played upon Gohan's face, knowing his friend's words were true. He had never been very close to Yamcha, Juuhachi, or Maron. Krillin would probably smile and carry on as if he had never left. Piccolo, if he came, would simply ruffle his hair or look him, putting off their calm rational talk until a time they could be alone. Dende, of course, would already know where he had been, and probably what he had been doing. Deep within him, Gohan's heart ached at the thought of his own father's response. As much as he wished his father would embrace him with relief of his return before questioning his disappearance, he knew the depressing truth. His father would smile at him, ask how he had been, and then question how much training he had been doing. That was, if he even noticed him compared to the food that would be there. Of course, his mother would do as Trunks predicted, followed by harassing him over his education.

"Tell me, Go-chan, do you think they miss you? Do you think they've noticed you've disappeared?" A faint voice purred. "I'm sure your father misses his powerful protégé, but he has another son, one who turned Super Saiyan rather easily at a very early age, one who didn't kill him,to spar with. As for your mother, I'm sure she misses seeing you closed up in your room with a pile of advanced textbooks, the pride she felt knowing that you could outdo almost any mind in the area, but after all, she has another son she can train to fulfill the dreams you abandoned, ne? It's their second chance to mold him into everything you could never do, an unflawed Son . . ."

Sighing, Gohan shook his head, blinking back the tears that had gathered within his eyes. Before his companion could question the silence and somber expression he wore, Gohan smiled, pointing to the large brick building. The entrance was surrounded by large Romanesque columns, the large glass doors flanked by two uniformed guards. Gohan trekked to the guards, smiling innocently.

"Bannen-san, Gijou-san, konichiwa. Has Akui left yet?"

"Konichiwa Gohan-san!" Bannen said, smiling at the young men before him. "He left about an hour ago, ne Gijou-san?"

The sterner of the two guards nodded, a frown upon his face. "He didn't look too happy either." He said begrudgingly.

"Did you two have another fight Gohan-san?" Bannen asked with a small wink. "Another lover's quarrel?"

Gohan smiled at the two. "Iie Bannen-san. Arigatougozaimasu! [6]" With that, he tugged his lavender haired friend with him into the building.

Mirai no trunks soon found himself standing on a solid black marble surface, gazing into a large marble fountain, the water sparkling as it airily weaved its way around a large black dragon that snarled fiercely from its perch upon a rock in the middle of the water, its ruby eyes glaring at anyone who dared to gaze upon it. The snow white walls of the room were lined with marble podiums that erupted from the floor, holding various precious statues. Black and white leather couches were shaped around a large black marble fireplace, the embers within glowing, their flames playing upon the surroundings in a somber dance. Before he could explore the grand room, Gohan pulled him into the luxurious elevator.

A soft soothing melody floated through the elevator as it raced to the very top floor of the building, opening its doors with a small ding. With the floor only housing a single apartment, the elevator opened into a small entryway. At the door, Gohan slipped his gold key into the lock, hoping Akui had not already changed the locks on him.

Half lidded eyes opened in surpriseas a glistening golden object hung above his face. A naked Akui lowered himself on top of Gohan, dangling a crimson string, holding a glittering gold key. Leaning down, he captured his demi-Saiyan love's lips into a passionate kiss. Exploring the other's warm orifice, Gohan allowed himself to get lost in his lover's embrace tongues caressed eachother's in blissful silence. As the kiss ended, Akui bowed his head, his teeth gently nipped at his lover's ear, kisses soothing the fleshy lobe. He pressed the key into Gohan's hand, their hands joining over top of it as he whispered his words of explanation. "A key, Gohan . . . to my heart and my home . . . koibito."

Once inside, Gohan led the way through the halls of the vast apartment. At the end of the hall, he swallowed hard, leaning back only to meet with the muscular chest of Mirai no Trunks. Blushing slightly, he quickly entered the room, ignoring the tingling sensation that traveled down his spine at the contact. Refusing to look, he moved passed the traitorous bed, into a walk in closet to gather his things.

Mirai seated himself upon the crimson silk comforter, trimmed in gold, which draped itself over an extremely large bed. Looking around, he took in the large dark wood dressers, and many mirrors that littered the walls. French doors led out onto a large balcony that overlooked the city, towards the ocean. Looking up, he noticed the ceiling had been painted with the night's sky, deep shades of burgundy, violet, and midnight blue merging as silvery stars peaked out from behind shady clouds. Shaking his head, he pushed himself from the soft mattress, entering the large closet. Gohan stood, bent over as he pushed his clothes into a large trunk.

Trunk's eyes could not help but trace over the lean form of his friend, following the shapely curve of his rear, and down his muscular thighs. Shocked at his mental evaluation of his fellow demi-Saiyan, he tried to avert his eyes, only to have them moving back to his friend's form constantly.

When Gohan stood, Trunks came out of his daze, watching as he moved into another room, dragging his trunk behind him. Moving to the doorway of the room, he saw that it was a large bathroom. Ivory marble floors were covered with rich crimson rugs, large antique gold mirrors creating the illusion that the room was twice its already exceptionally large size. Cerulean orbs flitted over the double sinks, the large shower, the toilet hidden in an open door area, finally resting upon the vast ivory marble Jacuzzi tub. Mindlessly, he noted the fact that the tub could easily fit half a dozen people comfortably.

Through the entire packing process, the two demi-Saiyans were silent; leaving Trunks to loose himself within his mind and Gohan to focus upon pushing back the many memories that arose as he quickly shoved his items into the trunk. Mirai silently left the room, leaving Gohan to the task, as he wandered down the elegant corridors. To him, everything seemed cold and impersonal. Paintings and mirrors decorated the walls, lush leather furniture was neatly scattered around the apartment, each room fully furnished richly.

Yet, there were no pictures upon the fireplace mantle, no books upon the table, nothing that made the apartment theirs. Instead, the books were neatly arranged upon the library shelves, each novel bound in leather and lettered in gold, the frames were filled with an artist's rendition or a cold looking glass that had his face staring right back at his own. Everything was spotless, each thing put into its proper place.

Placing a crystal vase back in its original spot, he moved to the last set of doors, into the last room he had to explore. A small smile played upon his lips as he gazed into the small room. One wall held a large television in the middle, a glass case containing a stereo system and other electronic equipment, surrounded by book shelves holding a number of popular novels, classics, and an abundance of titles in languages Trunks found himself unable to read. A small wooden desk was angled in another corner of the room, a black laptop computer closed upon the surface, beside it a pile of paper. In the other corner, a shining guitar sat upon its stand, beside it was a keyboard, both silent within the room. On the shelf beside the instruments, Trunks noticed piles of music sheets along with an amp, cables, headphones and microphones.

Noticing the multi-picture frames upon the wall, he soon found himself looking and multiple pictures of Gohan and Akui in various poses. Pictures of people he did now know also appeared. A large single pictured of Gohan and Akui dancing under the stars at the ocean neatly lay in the confines of an ornate silver frame. Upon the desk, he found a picture of the entire Z-senshi and family before the Cell Games. Gazing into that photograph, he sadly noted the joy that radiated from the younger Gohan as he stood proudly beside his father. That had been an entirely different Gohan, as the photo next to it well noted. With shock, he picked up the pictured framed in black. It had been taken at sunset, as an eleven year old Gohan gazed out from his cliff side perch, his chin resting upon his knees, tears silently rolling down his face. Brilliant shades of red and orange backed his shadowy silhouette as the youth stared, with dead eyes, at the oblivion before him.

As he was running his hands over the smooth glass of the photograph, the door opened, Gohan entering the room, a somber expression upon his face. Noticing Mirai no Trunks, he gave a small smile before pulling out a capsule, releasing another trunk. Swiftly, the novels were stacked into the large chest. Following those went papers from the desk, music sheets, and picture frames, taking the one from Trunks's hand without comment. With a sense of finality, he placed the laptop into a leather briefcase and into the trunk before re-capsulizing it.

Placing the guitar into its case and shouldering it, he looked at Trunks expectantly. "I'm all packed, Trunks-kun. Ready?" He asked as he tilted his head slightly to the side, his obsidian eyes speaking of the grief that ran through him with every moment within the apartment.

"Hai, Gohan. Let's get back. Okaa-san will have a heart attack if we miss the party."

With that, the two left the apartment building, Gohan placing the key into his pocket, hoping that it would not be the last time he used it. Walking down the street, side by side with his lavender haired friend, he was ignorant to the burning blue eyes that watched him from the street side café.

Arms gently made their way around his waist, soft lips pressing against the sensitive skin of his neck, warm tongue trailing a path towards his ears as a deep breath brought in the soft scent of Gohan's silky locks of ebony. Two pairs of eyes watched as the stars twinkled above them from the view of their balcony, taking in the warm summer night, the cool breeze playing its way across their naked bodies. Caressing his lover's chest, painting unknown symbols and pictures upon hardened silk, he spoke, his voice nothing more than a whisper of the wind.

"They don't care, my love. Every time they gazed upon you, called upon you, or even smiled at you, they were simply thinking of the power they could utilize, the intelligence they could harness, the little boy they could manipulate. It was never love that sparkled in their eyes;there was never care within their words."

"But that's okay. It's alright, my sweet Go-chan . . . Because I do . . . Because I'm here now . . . and I always will be . . . Ilove you . . . forever . ."

ooOoOoo

Translations:

[1] ototo: younger brother

[2] oniichan: cute form of "older brother"

[3] keiji: defer to another as if an older brother

[4] otoutobun: friend treated as a younger brother

[5] gaki: rough equivalence of brat, only a degree worse.

[6] Arigatougozaimasu: Thank you. (I would have though it was two words and meant thank you very much, but this is what the Japanese/English dictionary told me so take it up with them.)