CHAPTER EIGHT: TRUNKS, THE PRIDEFUL WARRIOR?
The tools in the gravity chamber were pulled to the ground. The heat was intense as Trunks stood in the middle of the room under five hundred times gravity. His body, feeling like tons more than it should, pulled him down to the floor. Trunks stood there quietly with his eyes closed, his mind focused on his training. It never occurred to him that he was only 12; almost a teenager. He went to school in the morning and all his free time was spent in this room. He couldn’t remember the last time he and Goten had sparred for fun; to him it was always serious.
Trunks slowly opened his eyes and looked down at the floor. He couldn’t explain why he suddenly wanted to do all these things. He just felt better when he did. He wanted to make his father proud of him and it angered him that Vegeta never once said goodbye to him before he left. It also angered him that his father never really showed him any true appreciation. Trunks figured that when his father came back the first thing he would ask is whether he had become stronger or not. As soon as he had discovered of Vegeta’s death, Trunks decided that he would train intensely in order to make him proud.
And yet, as he did he was still unsure as to whether his training was doing anything but making him tired. He pushed himself every day to do more, almost to the brink of passing out but he wasn’t sure if that was enough. He needed someone to fight with; someone to actually battle with. Trunks let out a sigh as a drop of sweat dripped from his face and hit the floor. He wondered who he could get to fight him; it needed to be someone that would be challenging.
Goten would be okay but he always took everything in fun, and Trunks was serious this time. Piccolo would be good but he wouldn’t be the best choice.
‘There has to be someone I can fight against that would take me seriously,’ Trunks thought to himself as he looked up from the floor and faced front.
It only took him a few more seconds of thinking before he realized it. Gohan! He could ask Gohan to fight with him. It would be perfect. Trunks had heard that Gohan was very strong; stronger than Goku even. Trunks knew that if he defeated Gohan in battle it would definitely prove his strength and then maybe his father would acknowledge him. Trunks walked over to the gravity controls and shut them off pausing for a moment trying to decide whether or not this was a good idea.
A fight was unlike a sparring match. In a fight people actually died. Trunks stood there leaning up against the controls thinking about it before he shook it off. Even if he was to challenge Gohan to a fight there was no way Gohan would kill him. And if he would then he would have to beat him first; and Trunks wasn’t about to let that happen either. He nodded a bit to himself as he walked over to the door. He then paused and turned around staring at the empty floor in front of him. He could almost hear his father yelling at him to get up or get lost. Trunks turned towards the door and looked at it thinking deeply. He then quickly powered up and flipped backwards across the room. He pushed off with his feet and flew upwards then came back down to the ground by the door again.
He looked back sternly at the empty floor and then opened the door and walked out of the gravitron. He walked down the steps and paused as the memory still filled his mind. Bra was playing in the yard with her dolls and she watched as Trunks came out of the gravitron. She smiled at him but he wasn’t really paying any attention to her. Bra watched as he walked inside and then came back out again looking up towards the sky. She stood up and walked over to him.
“Where are you going Trunks?” she asked pulling on his pants leg to get his attention.
“Gohan’s house. I want to do some training with him,” Trunks said calmly.
“Can I come? I want to train too,” Bra said staring up at him.
Trunks looked down at her and then placed his hand on her head, “No Bra. You stay here.”
With that Trunks took off heading towards Gohan’s house, leaving Bra alone in the backyard. Bra stood there for a few moments watching him. She never did understand Trunks. He always seemed busy training and she never understood why that was so important to him. The only thing she knew was that if it Trunks did it that much then it had to be something really important. She let out a soft sigh. She wished he would play with her sometimes; he never seemed to have time to do that. As she stood in the backyard, Bulma watched her.
Leaning against the frame of the backdoor Bulma called to her, “Bra, why don’t you come in and eat lunch?”
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