Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Night Prowler Addition ❯ Chapter 7
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Lady Kaoru 
Trunks unknowingly gives his father a cure and we find out how similar they really are.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 10.29.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 971 | Visits: 488 | Status: Completed
Trunks unknowingly gives his father a cure and we find out how similar they really are.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Horror | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 10.29.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 971 | Visits: 488 | Status: Completed
Chapter 7
Trunks slipped out the door before the sun had completely risen. His panic from yesterday strengthened his resolve to learn to fly, and he was determined to spend the entire day trying, if he had to.
He shot a longing look toward the gravity chamber as he headed passed it toward the grove of trees beyond the back yard. He wondered if he would ever be allowed to step foot in it again. It was doubtful at this point. He certainly didn’t want a repeat of his father’s wrath!
Flying proved harder than Trunks realized. He could jump nearly to the treetops, but would always come crashing down. Again and again he jumped, even attempting to flap his arms like wings. It was almost noon when he finally hovered for a couple of seconds before falling back to the ground on the top of his head.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Trunks barely recognized the hoarse whisper behind him. He looked nervously over his shoulder, his mouth dropping at the dark shape at the base of a nearby tree.
“Dad! What happened to you?” he asked. His love and respect for his father overcame any fear as he ran over to inspect the battered Vegeta.
“Don’t touch me,” Vegeta snapped, wincing at Trunks’ attempt to wipe the blood away from a gash in his forehead. “I’ll be fine. I just need a little rest.”
“OK,” Trunks sighed and sat down to wait patiently for his father to feel better.
Vegeta rolled his eyes. “What were you trying to do? Break your neck?”
“I was trying to fly,” Trunks admitted. “But I guess I can’t jump high enough yet.”
Vegeta tried to laugh, but it hurt too much and he ended up breaking out in a sweat from the pain. “That’s foolishness! Jumping has nothing to do with flying!”
“It doesn’t?”
“It’s all in controlling your energy,” Vegeta said, closing his eyes.
He was too exhausted from his encounter with Piccolo to deal with the annoying, incompetence of the brat. He wished he could skip this entire stage and have his strong teenage son from the future back. Then, at least, he would have some worthy competition. Piccolo managed to do one thing while attempting to devour Vegeta. He had shown the Saiyan that there was more to life than hunting. If he had a challenge, he would be able to control his addiction much better. Vegeta had a sneaking suspicion that Piccolo let him escape because he saw the realization dawn in his eyes.
“You’ll never learn to fly. You’re just a weak half-breed baby,” he taunted, just to get the boy to leave him alone to heal on his own.
“I am not!” Trunks cried out, jumping to his feet in anger. “I am not a baby! And I will learn how to fly! And I will get stronger than you all by myself!”
Unable to handle his emotional increase of power, Trunks brought his hands together and let a ball of ki energy escape from his palms. It skimmed just over the top of Vegeta’s hair on its way to blast through a row of trees. They fell like dominoes, crashing on top of one another with a great roar of creaking wood and tearing branches.
Vegeta’s eyes popped open. He turned his head slowly from the destruction on one side of him to the small boy on the other. Trunks’ teeth were still gritted in anger and his hands were balled into tiny fists at his side. Vegeta allowed himself to look closer at the boy’s arms. Instead of seeing a piece of flesh to be eaten as he feared, he was pleasantly surprised to discover untapped potential of power and strength in those small, muscular biceps.
“Did Gohan teach you to do that?” Vegeta asked.
Trunks shook his head, suddenly shy. “I’ve been watching you,” he admitted.
“Enough fooling around,” Vegeta said as he struggled to his feet. His spirits were boosted enough to compensate for his injured body. “Starting first thing tomorrow morning, you will show me everything you have taught yourself. After that, you will forget it and learn how to do it right.”
Trunks beamed at the prospect of having his father as his teacher. He dreamed about it for so long, he could barely believe it was coming true!
As they walked back home, Vegeta knew his days of being controlled by his lust for flesh was over. He still planned on hunting from time to time, but with Trunks as his focus, his desire would no longer be an obsession.
“Just a sec, Dad,” Trunks said and raced off into the thick brush beside the path. A minute later, he returned, holding a fat, dead rabbit in his hands.
“What are you doing with that?” Vegeta asked.
“I’m hungry,” he replied with all the innocence of a child.
Meticulously, Trunks ripped the white fur from the meat. Vegeta’s eyes locked on the skinned animal and his mouth watered, forcing him to swallow several times. He watched in longing as the boy sank his teeth into the rabbit’s side.
“I just wish they were more like people. There wouldn’t be all that hair to take off first,” Trunks said, wiping the blood from his lips. “I think the skin would taste the best.”
Trunks slipped out the door before the sun had completely risen. His panic from yesterday strengthened his resolve to learn to fly, and he was determined to spend the entire day trying, if he had to.
He shot a longing look toward the gravity chamber as he headed passed it toward the grove of trees beyond the back yard. He wondered if he would ever be allowed to step foot in it again. It was doubtful at this point. He certainly didn’t want a repeat of his father’s wrath!
Flying proved harder than Trunks realized. He could jump nearly to the treetops, but would always come crashing down. Again and again he jumped, even attempting to flap his arms like wings. It was almost noon when he finally hovered for a couple of seconds before falling back to the ground on the top of his head.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Trunks barely recognized the hoarse whisper behind him. He looked nervously over his shoulder, his mouth dropping at the dark shape at the base of a nearby tree.
“Dad! What happened to you?” he asked. His love and respect for his father overcame any fear as he ran over to inspect the battered Vegeta.
“Don’t touch me,” Vegeta snapped, wincing at Trunks’ attempt to wipe the blood away from a gash in his forehead. “I’ll be fine. I just need a little rest.”
“OK,” Trunks sighed and sat down to wait patiently for his father to feel better.
Vegeta rolled his eyes. “What were you trying to do? Break your neck?”
“I was trying to fly,” Trunks admitted. “But I guess I can’t jump high enough yet.”
Vegeta tried to laugh, but it hurt too much and he ended up breaking out in a sweat from the pain. “That’s foolishness! Jumping has nothing to do with flying!”
“It doesn’t?”
“It’s all in controlling your energy,” Vegeta said, closing his eyes.
He was too exhausted from his encounter with Piccolo to deal with the annoying, incompetence of the brat. He wished he could skip this entire stage and have his strong teenage son from the future back. Then, at least, he would have some worthy competition. Piccolo managed to do one thing while attempting to devour Vegeta. He had shown the Saiyan that there was more to life than hunting. If he had a challenge, he would be able to control his addiction much better. Vegeta had a sneaking suspicion that Piccolo let him escape because he saw the realization dawn in his eyes.
“You’ll never learn to fly. You’re just a weak half-breed baby,” he taunted, just to get the boy to leave him alone to heal on his own.
“I am not!” Trunks cried out, jumping to his feet in anger. “I am not a baby! And I will learn how to fly! And I will get stronger than you all by myself!”
Unable to handle his emotional increase of power, Trunks brought his hands together and let a ball of ki energy escape from his palms. It skimmed just over the top of Vegeta’s hair on its way to blast through a row of trees. They fell like dominoes, crashing on top of one another with a great roar of creaking wood and tearing branches.
Vegeta’s eyes popped open. He turned his head slowly from the destruction on one side of him to the small boy on the other. Trunks’ teeth were still gritted in anger and his hands were balled into tiny fists at his side. Vegeta allowed himself to look closer at the boy’s arms. Instead of seeing a piece of flesh to be eaten as he feared, he was pleasantly surprised to discover untapped potential of power and strength in those small, muscular biceps.
“Did Gohan teach you to do that?” Vegeta asked.
Trunks shook his head, suddenly shy. “I’ve been watching you,” he admitted.
“Enough fooling around,” Vegeta said as he struggled to his feet. His spirits were boosted enough to compensate for his injured body. “Starting first thing tomorrow morning, you will show me everything you have taught yourself. After that, you will forget it and learn how to do it right.”
Trunks beamed at the prospect of having his father as his teacher. He dreamed about it for so long, he could barely believe it was coming true!
As they walked back home, Vegeta knew his days of being controlled by his lust for flesh was over. He still planned on hunting from time to time, but with Trunks as his focus, his desire would no longer be an obsession.
“Just a sec, Dad,” Trunks said and raced off into the thick brush beside the path. A minute later, he returned, holding a fat, dead rabbit in his hands.
“What are you doing with that?” Vegeta asked.
“I’m hungry,” he replied with all the innocence of a child.
Meticulously, Trunks ripped the white fur from the meat. Vegeta’s eyes locked on the skinned animal and his mouth watered, forcing him to swallow several times. He watched in longing as the boy sank his teeth into the rabbit’s side.
“I just wish they were more like people. There wouldn’t be all that hair to take off first,” Trunks said, wiping the blood from his lips. “I think the skin would taste the best.”