----Trunks's journal; Vol 1: Page 1
“Like that?” I paused in writing and looked towards Goten, who was laying on my left in the grassy yard by the Son house. We were simply relaxing after a pleasant little sparring session, and since we weren’t doing anything else at the moment, I thought that I would give the writing thing a try.
I looked through the paragraph that I had written, not sure what I was doing at all. I had never really written anything before. Well, I suppose that isn’t true. I had written a lot of things before, but that had been for school and for work sometimes as well. It was always a sort of structured writing, though. The kind of writing where you didn’t have to use any thought or imagination. There was an assignment, or a project, or a theme, and all you had to do was basically fill in the blanks. That was the kind of writing that I was used to. This kind of writing was more difficult. This kind of writing was simply staring at a blank piece of paper, waiting for the right words to drip down from your mind and come out in the ink that you were scribbling with. It wasn’t so much writing as it was creating. And creating was never really my forte. I only took an art class one time in the entire course of my life, and it ended up very badly. I had the worst grades in that class that I’ve ever gotten. It got so bad that towards the end of the year I began paying people to do my art projects for me. And after I discovered just how easy it was to get my schoolwork done without actually doing any of the work, I began paying other students to do everything for me. By the time I was finished with high school, I had spent a fortune.
Goten took the notebook from my hands and skimmed his eyes over the paragraph. He laughed, a goofy grin spreading across his face. “If you want to, I guess. But I don’t think it has to be perfect. A journal should just be your thoughts and stuff. It doesn’t have to be like an essay.”
I despised being laughed at, especially when it was Goten that was making fun of me. I guess it’s that whole issue of pride, which I certainly inherited from my father, but I simply did not like being told that I was doing something wrong. I snapped the notebook shut, sighed and brushed the lavender bangs out of my eyes in one frustrated movement. “I give up. This is a stupid idea.”
I feel I must point out, however, that this was not my stupid idea. My mother, being the brilliant inventor and genius that she is, sometimes comes up with that lamest ideas. Her latest and greatest decision was that my little sister and I should start writing in a journal. Of course, she also decided to ignore the fact that I am an extremely busy man, and the fact that my sister is barely old enough to write a comprehensible sentence. In her words, she wanted us to ‘remember the experiences we had as children so that we could be better people in the future and enable ourselves to think more clearly about our actions’.
Right. I think she’s crazy too. Only, she isn’t just asking me to right in a journal, I am being forced to. The journal decision actually came about after a rather interesting incident involving Bra and a plateful of noodles. Actually, the more I think about it, the more I realize that it wasn’t a decision so much as a punishment. This isn’t fair, of course, seeing as though I am nineteen and well old enough to no longer be bothered with such things as punishments, but she doesn’t seem to see it that way. She still sees me as the child that I was long ago, and has never really given me a chance to blossom into anything more than that. She has been through a lot in life, and she thinks this gives her the right to boss everyone around. She believes that she has learned enough from all of her experiences to be able to tell us how to live our lives. And since she has kept a journal since she was old enough to write, and has volumes upon volumes of them stored down in the lab somewhere, that meant that my sister and I needed to keep journals. As much as I despise this kind of punishment, I do have to admire her amazing collection of writings. Everything she has done since she was a young teenager has been recorded and dated and re-experienced through reading dozens and dozens of times. And lately, she has been even more fanatical about the journal writing, and keeps saying things like “I won’t be around much longer”. It’s getting a bit out of hand.
Besides the fact that punishing a nineteen year old should be considered illegal, another reason why I’m against this whole thing is that I don’t have time to write in a journal. I’m a man. I have other things to keep me busy. Beside the normal daily activities such as being president of Capsule Corp., I have more important things, such as food, sparring, and maintaining my hair. Not to mention girls. Girls especially take up a considerable amount of my precious time. There were so many of them, and so many of them demanded my utmost attention. I’ve never been able to commit myself to a steady relationship either. It isn’t that I’d have problems being true to one girl, it’s just that most of the girls that I meet are simply boring. I couldn’t handle being with a boring girl for the rest of my life. I myself am a very dynamic, exciting person, and most of the girls that I have dated had the personality of sock. Socks are nice and comfortable, and they do a good job of protecting your feet, but they aren’t real fun to play with. Unfortunately, I’m getting older, and one of these days I’m going to have to settle down and get married. And if I don’t find anything more exciting by then, I might just get stuck marrying a sock.
This is why my mother should simply stay out of my life. Just thinking about agonizing situations such as girls takes up an enormous amount of my time. I don’t have time to be writing in a journal. Every moment I spend with my pen pressed against that paper is just one moment where I’m missing out on something else. If she only knew how time consuming my daily activities were.
“Goten? Trunks?” A soft voice inquired.
I looked up as ChiChi strolled out of the Son House and into the yard. As usual, she was dressed in her formal dress, her hair tied up in a severe bun at the top of her head. However, she lacked the challenging, angry look that she usually had on her face. Instead, she just looked tired and sad. She stood there hesitantly for a moment, her hands clasped in front of her chest. She didn’t say anything for a moment, just simply looked up into the sky, her eyes full of a lot of emotions that I didn’t even want to take a guess at.
I turned my eyes to Goten and saw him look down, trying to hide his unhappy expression. Lately, ChiChi had not been herself. Gokuu had left for the islands quite a while ago, and rarely ever came back to visit them. I wasn’t sure, but I assumed that this was the reason she had been so sad lately. Even my mother was worried about her, because she hadn’t been keeping in contact anymore. And according to Goten, she barely said anything around the house anymore either. She just moped around and stared up at the sky with that pitiful look on her face. I felt bad for her of course, but I felt bad for Goten too. He and his mother had always been close. When he was growing up, all they had was each other, and the two of them had grown to have a very strong relationship. I knew that it was hurting Goten to see his mother acting this way and to know that she was hurt, especially since there was really nothing that he could do about it. There was a lot of hidden resentment under Goten’s cheerful smile. As his mother grew more and more depressed, Goten grew more and more angry with Gokuu for leaving her.
I wasn’t quite sure what to think about the whole situation. On one hand, Goten is my best friend, and I love him just like a brother. I would do anything for him, and I hate to see him upset, especially since his demeanor is usually so sunny. I knew that Son Gokuu was a kind man. I knew that he had saved Earth several times, and probably my own young life several times as well. But the fact that he had just left his family like that made me practically boil with anger. Especially when I see my friend so upset and hurt by his actions.
ChiChi looked back down at us, her eyes tired. “You boys don’t want anything to eat, do you? I don’t really feel like cooking.”
“No, Okaasan. We’re fine. We’ll go to Capsule Corp. if we get hungry.” Goten said, still not looking up at her. “Trunks always has plenty of food.”
She nodded absently and wandered back into the house, closing the door softly behind her. Even though I wasn’t a family member and didn’t spend a whole lot of time at the Son House, I knew that what she had just said was like a hit to the stomach for Goten. For one thing, I knew that ChiChi loved to cook. She always seemed to be making a meal for the men in her family, serving mound after mound of delicious food with a smile on her face. And now, she suddenly didn’t feel like cooking? It was yet another sign that she was really not herself. I bit my lip, not knowing if I should say anything to him about it or not. I hadn’t said anything yet, even though ChiChi had been acting like this for awhile. I guess I am afraid that saying something might be stepping over the line, and Goten might actually break down and cry. I had never really been around anyone that was crying before, except for my sister during various tantrums. And even though Goten was usually so optimistic and so bright, I was afraid that if I said anything about his mother, he might burst into tears. Normally, I wouldn’t fear something like that, but lately….
Well, he’s been different.
We didn’t say anything for awhile, just lay there in the cool grass, thinking to ourselves, but I finally decided to break the silence. I didn’t want him to have to feel depressed all day long, and I hated seeing that sad look on his face. We needed to get away from the Son House and do something that would get his mind off of his family problems.
“Goten, do you want to go do something? I’m tired of trying to write in the journal.” I said, adding a happy tone to my voice. Perhaps if I acted like I was cheerful, he would follow my lead. I didn’t care if it sounded fake or not; Goten was probably too stupid to notice if it was fake or not anyway.
Slowly, very slowly, the sadness began to melt away, and the sunny Goten that I knew came back to life. He lifted his head and looked at me quizzically. “Like what?”
I thought for a moment, then grinned. “How about airport tag?”
“Have you ever heard the expression, ‘You can meet someone in an instant and know they are your sworn enemy?’ Me either. I actually just made that up. Judging by the events that have happened in my life lately, however, I believe that expression is quite fitting. Up until the day that I met her, I was sure my life was headed in the same, boring direction that it had been heading in for that past few years. I hate it when I prove myself wrong.”
----Trunks's journal; Vol 1: Page 2
It was noisy as usual in the new Satan City airport, a large circular building in the downtown area. The roar of airplane engines outside the thick glass windows and the constant intercom announcements become nothing more than background noise compared to the sound of the people there. There were people milling around in all the gift shops and hallways, yelling at one another and wheeling noisy suitcases along with them as they hurried to catch their planes. At the gates, arriving people and their families cried and hugged and loudly explained where they had been or what crazy things had happened to them on the flight. It was busy season here at the airport, the time of year when almost every person in the city decided that they either needed to fly somewhere or come back from somewhere else. This was great for the airline business, because the revenue that came in from this season was incredible. But it was almost too much for someone flying in or out of the airport. More often than not, flights were overbooked and cancellations occurred more frequently. All in all, I enjoyed this season at the airport. It was easy to get lost amid all of the chaos and the masses of people.
I watched carefully from behind the magazine that I was ‘reading’ for Goten to appear.
We had done this many times before, playing around in the airport. There was just something really great about running around among thousands of people trying to catch each other while also trying to avoid the security. We had various rules and strategies in the game, but mainly it was the basic game of tag. One of us would start out as the chaser and give the other a five minute head start. We thought our idea was absolutely fabulous. Airport Security, however, didn’t to be so enthused about our idea. We weren’t really breaking any kind of laws, but sometimes we managed to cause a bit of a ruckus, and that was something that Security did not want. And there were a few times when we had unintentionally knocked some gift stands over and there was a small, insignificant incident involving the combustion of an x-ray machine. All in all though, we considered our games to be completely harmless, though we weren’t about to stop and explain this to Security. They didn’t seem to want to listen to reason. They were constantly running after us with handcuffs and whistles, trying to catch us and make us pay for all of the havoc that we created. Not that it was ever a challenge to get away from them. Mostly it was the really heavy security guards that came running after us, and needless to say, they could never catch up. They had a hard enough time just making it through the crush of the crowd, and by the time they reached a clear path, we were long gone.
Airport tag was the one thing that seemed to always cheer Goten up. It lifted my spirits as well, and both of us would run around the terminal laughing like a couple of maniacs as we chased each other. Another fun part of it was the waiting and the strategizing. Much like a tiger hides in the trees and waits for its prey to come closer, I was lurking about waiting for Goten. I was hiding out in one of the many gift shops in the west part of the airport, waiting patiently for him to stroll by so I could reach out and tag him. I had given up running around like an idiot over an hour ago; Goten was too fast for that, and with the large amount of people in the airport today, it just wasn’t very practical. I thought that just standing by and waiting for him to fall into my trap was a much more intelligent idea.
A large group of people dressed in wild Hawaiian shirts walked by then, talking and laughing amongst themselves as they passed me by, leaving the scent of coconut suntan oil behind. I looked at them dispassionately, then narrowed my eyes as I saw that a very suspicious looking Goten was following them. He was wearing his usual long sleeved tee shirt, and had his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. A very suspicious look was on his face as he turned his head from side to side, searching for me intently through the crowd. He looked sloppy as usual, but I suppose any girl would think that he was handsome. Not that it mattered much to Goten, who had yet begun to appreciate the female sex. I found this very surprising, because during our time in high school, Goten was always very popular with the ladies. Not as popular as I was of course, but he did in fact come in second. The two of us were at the top of the food chain during those years. We were the guys that every guy wanted to be, and the guys that all of the girls wanted to be with. I soaked up all of the attention like a sponge and appreciated every minute of it, but it always seemed as though Goten could have cared less. He was more excited about things such as food and video games to care about such trivial things as women. In fact, I was starting to believe that food was the boy’s number one priority. He probably even thinking of it right now, seeing as though we hadn’t eaten anything in the last two hours.
He passed by me very close now, his eyes alert and suspicious. I watched and waited, knowing that he needed to be very close before I could make my move.
When his eyes fell on the gift shop doorway, I froze, but his eyes never once took the time to examine the person ‘reading’ a magazine by the door. When he was just two feet away, I sprung out like a tiger with my claws outstretched, yelling.
I only had half a second to see the comically shocked look on his face before I tackled him to the airport floor. We rolled to the side in a tussle, barely noticing as we knocked over a stand that was selling travel pamphlets. The boards and slabs of cardboard that had made up the pamphlet stand came crashing down with a loud bang, and a rain of shiny paper came fluttering over the two of us as we rolled around, laughing. Quite a large crowd gathered around to see what had happened, a few smiling in amusement, others looking at us in disgust. Standing where the pamphlet had originally been, its attendant was shaking with fear and anger, clutching the last few remaining travel brochures in his hands. Still laughing, I stood to my feet and lent a hand down to pull Goten up as well. He shook his head and grinned at me.
“Trunks, you are getting better every time we do this.” He commented.
I flipped the lavender hair out of my eyes in one smooth move and smirked. “I was always good.”
Goten was about to counter my comment when there were several shouts and a trample of footsteps. The crowd parted quickly as two men dressed in Airport Security uniforms started running at us, pointing and yelling. Like I said earlier, they were of course the heavy ones, the kind of guys who were likely to pass out after a minute of heavy running. However, we were kind of trapped within the group that had gathered there, and if we were going to escape, we needed to start running right away.
I looked at Goten.
Goten looked at me.
We took off running down the airport hallway, laughing and pushing people aside.
The amount of people grew as I hurried on with Goten next to me, running as fast as I possibly could without mowing anyone down. Innocent bystanders looked up to see us coming with a terrified look in their eyes, just like a deer caught in headlights, and children giggled and chased us as well, not realizing what was going on. My arms pumping at my side, I picked up my running pace a bit, looking back to see the security guards still following. We had never been caught before, and there was no way that I was going to get caught now. Not only would it be completely humiliating to have to sit in the Airport Security office and wait for my mother to come bail me out, but we had really just started our game and I wanted to play for a least another hour. Goten looked at me with large black eyes and nodded that he was going to head the other way, to try and divert the security guards. He waved cheerfully, then departed from me and ran to the left, towards the other side of the airport. With a new determination, I began running faster, and even shoved a few people out of the way.
The crowd parted a bit, and I sped up, thinking that I had found a way of escape. But as I turned a corner quickly, I ran straight into someone who had been standing completely still.
Because of the speed that I had been running at, both of us were knocked to the ground and fell hard. I landed in a rather unattractive heap on the airport floor, seeing stars in front of my eyes. While my head was still spinning wildly from the impact of the hard floor, I looked up to glare at whatever idiot tourist had been that had caused me to fall to the ground. Not only had they made me look like a moron in front of a lot of people, but they had also cut down my chances of getting away from the guards.
The people that had been running around so wildly before had all stopped and were trying to get a better view of myself and the person that I had knocked into, probably wondering if we were still conscious. I looked over, and found that it had been a girl that I had run into. She had fallen to the ground also, arms and legs sprawled out on the airport floor, amid a mass of golden hair. A clutter of fallen objects was around her as well: a purse, a pair of sunglasses, and what looked like a carry-on bag. I immediately felt bad; I wasn’t the type of guy who was fond knocking girls around. The female species was a delicate one, and I was afraid that I might have hurt her. As she sat up to stare back at me, my breath came out in one big whoosh of air.
She was absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous.
The sun was coming in through the airport windows in just the right angle and height so that her golden hair, which was pulled back in a long, smooth ponytail shimmered playfully as she smoothed it back with an exasperated sigh. She picked the expensive looking sunglasses up off of the floor and perched them on her head, grabbed the other items, and stood tall, brushing herself off. She had on a casual white dress that complemented her tanned skin and showcased the nicest curves I had seen in a long, long time. She looked flawless, as though she had put some great effort into getting ready for the day, spending some absurd amount of time perfecting her already perfect looks. She also looked extremely pissed off. At me. Her emerald green eyes grew into narrow slits and her pouting mouth scowled indignantly.
A few of people that were watching backed away when they caught sight of her expression, and smartly headed away from us, expecting some harsh words to be exchanged. Most were just beginning to get interested though, and were looking at us with amused expressions on their faces, clutching the handles of their suitcases in excitement as they gathered around us. Normally I enjoyed being in the spotlight, but at that exact moment, I was not thrilled about it at all. I knew that this was probably going to end up being very embarrassing for me. Besides that, the security guards were going to find me sooner or later if I stayed in the same spot, especially with the growing crowd of spectators circled around us.
"Why don't you watch where you are going?" The girl snapped and she crossed her long slim arms tightly across her chest. "Maybe next time you should look before you go running around like a chicken with your head cut off, you idiot."
I have been around for a few years now, and I know how society works. And in society, the richest, and the best looking always come out on top, and above everyone else. We, the elite of the human species, are not looked down upon by anyone, stranger or acquaintance. That is why, until the day of my death, I will never understand why this girl had the guts to stand up to me, or even say anything that might possibly have offended me. Yes, I know that I knocked into her and could have possibly caused an injury, but there was no need to say something like that to me. It was rude of her to do so, especially since up until that point, I had been planning on apologizing to her.
She obviously did not have any idea who I was, and for that, I could forgive her, though she should probably recognize me. I was a difficult face to forget, especially since I had left high school and taken the job as president of Capsule Corporation; my face had been plastered on every newspaper in the world, and I had been on the news more than a dozen times already. Obviously she had been out of the news loop for a long while now.
I smirked at her and slowly stood to my feet, holding my head high. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"
The crowd began talking again, whispering to each other that they recognized me from the news, and they grew even more interested in the exchange of words. My smirk grew, and I stared down at her angry face, feeling pretty high above her. I knew that she probably had not known who I was. Once she realized her mistake and apologized for the rude way that she had spoken to me, I would forgive her. I couldn’t hold a grudge against ignorance, and besides, she was simply too pretty to be angry with.
"Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?" She shot back at me, placing one delicate hand on her hip. Her eyes were sharp and unwavering. "Third class idiots such as you have no right to even share the same air as me, let alone run into me."
Her words hit me straight in the stomach, and I had to stop myself from dropping my jaw in shock. No one had ever, ever said anything like that to me before. I couldn’t even begin to fathom what was going on in her head. Truthfully, I just wasn’t used to this kind of treatment from someone. I had always been treated with so much respect and adoration, especially from members of the females species. And now? She dared to still act this way towards me, after I had graciously given her a chance at forgiveness. She gazed at me unblinking, with her green eyes flashing in anger, and I felt myself beginning to hate her. Especially since the crowd had laughed and whooped at her comment, terribly embarrassing me.
I crossed my arms as well and met her glare. "What makes you think that you are better than me? I own Capsule Corporation, the biggest, most successful company in the world. I am richer than you could ever dream of being."
A stand of golden hair fell into her eyes as the girl smiled condescendingly and blinked her eyes in mock innocence. “Capsule Corporation? The company that makes useless contraptions that no one needs? The company that is run by the absolute idiot Bulma Briefs and her idiot father? Hai, I think I've heard of it."
Everyone around us laughed, most of them trying to hold it in, so as not to be rude to me, but I could tell they were struggling. Some of them just outright burst into chuckles and I could feel that the majority of them were now taking the girl’s side instead of mine. I had never been laughed at like this before. I had never been treated like this before. I had never hated someone this much before. I had to resist the impulse to smack the girl into the wall behind her and beat her senseless. Not only had she humiliated me, but she had also terribly insulted my family.
"That 'idiot' is my mother." I growled, taking a step forward.
She smirked and turned away from me, flipping her ponytail over her shoulder. "I guess it must run in the family."
Again, the crowd laughed wildly, and some of them actually pointed at me. She smirked at me once more, her green eyes proud with the satisfaction that she had one the fight. Then she placed the strap of her purse over her shoulder, picked up her carry-on bag, and walked away, leaving me astounded.
The crowd dispersed, still laughing, and left me alone. I stood there amazed and humiliated, in the middle of the airport walkway, still staring after that absolute bitch of a girl.
I was shocked. No one had ever talked to me like that. Girls fawned over me as though I were a god. I had never met a girl yet that I hadn’t been able to charm. In fact, I had always considered it one of my many talents. Women flocked to me, plain and simple. Even guys gave me the respect that I deserved. Goten thought I was the most wonderful person on Earth, and so did many of my other friends as well. I couldn't think of any other person that had ever talked to me in such a rude, conceited manner except for my own father. No other person would dare to. They knew who I was; they knew the kind of power that I had, both physically and financially. I was not someone that was subject to being humiliated and talked to as though I were nothing. So, what made that girl think she was so damn special?
My day at the airport completely ruined, I wanted nothing more than just to find Goten and go home. I couldn’t wait to tell him what that girl had said to me, but more importantly, I just wanted to get away from the laughing eyes of everyone around me. I knew that this kind of incident was probably something that would leek out into the press and I could only imagine the upcoming interviews in which I would be subjected to probing questions and even more embarrassment. Still simmering, I flung myself around, only to meet eye-to-eye with one of the airport security guards.
He reached out and grabbed my arms before I could react, and signaled to his partners, who came running over to me, their beer bellies flopping grotesquely over their belts. I knew I was in trouble now. I couldn’t very well just knock the guy over and take off running. The whole crowd knew who I was, and if I escaped now, they’d just tell the security and I’d end up with the police knocking down the door in the middle of the night and dragging me away to jail. This meant I had to actually go through with it, the first time I had ever gotten into big trouble like this. The only time I had ever actually been caught.
“We finally caught you, wise guy.” He said in a rough voice and tweaked his mustache flippantly as the other security guards approached. As the handcuffs were placed around my wrists, my shoulders sank dejectedly, and I began to think very, very nasty thoughts about the girl that I had run into. Now she had not only humiliated me, but she had contributed to my arrest as well. And I was certain to be punished even further than I already was. My mother was definitely not going to be a happy woman.
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