To Understand Love

Hello everyone. Sorry for the really long wait. I am job hunting and working, and this chapter was really hard to write. I’m not sure if I like the end result, but it’s really up to you what you think. Hopefully, it is acceptable. Thanks for the kind reviews I have received. I really appreciate them. And again, I apologize for the long delay. Just as a warning, I probably will only be updating about once a month because I really need to concentrate on finding a job. I’ll keep you posted!

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Disclaimer: All characters and original story concept for Dragon Ball Z belong to Toriyama Akira.

Chapter 5

Leaving my brother’s party put me in a state of hope mixed with an equal measure of confusion and partial denial. Whereas I was hoping to gain a clearer picture of possible goals and expectations I could hold for myself towards the future, I ended up leaving with a feeling that nothing had been resolved at all, and those issues that had been niggling in the dark corners of my innermost thoughts were starting to boil outwards. I couldn’t ignore them. Not after almost letting myself be kissed by Trunks.

Running a hand through my hair, I pause a moment before throwing myself bodily onto the floor of my living room. The thing that keeps coming back in my mind is this: what the hell is happening to me? Sure, I could live with the fact that there have been times where I have wondered whether or not Trunks would find me attractive, but I never really gave those ideas much thought. It was coming from the perspective that I felt he was better looking than me and it was a comparison of sorts. Or at least, that’s what I told myself. But…now I wonder if I’ve always had these feelings of attraction? Attraction…towards him this entire time. Perhaps the reason I’ve never really seriously considered settling down isn’t because I’m not ready to, but because I can’t ever picture myself with a girl. And no matter what you might think, that is a fairly scary realization.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I let that moment from down by the lake run through my mind. He had asked me if I wanted to kiss. Had I not moved away and pushed him off of me, that’s what would have happened. Why would he do something like that? The thing that really bothers me isn’t so much the fact that I wanted to find out what it would be like to touch my lips to his, but why it seemed like my rejection really hurt Trunks. He’s not…gay. And maybe I am…fuck.

“Well, I’m not going to think about it. It didn’t mean shit,” I mutter to myself as I watch dust motes float in the air, shimmering in the shaft of light coming through my apartment window.

But I’m just lying to myself. It did mean…something. What, I’m still too afraid to confront. And it’s driving me crazy, these circular thoughts about that moment, when his face was barely an inch from my own and how it would have been all too easy to give in to a fucked up temptation that would have done neither of us any good.

Slamming my fist to the ground in irritation, I grope around searching for the remote to my television before I remember that Gohan had thrown it out on Friday night. Growling, I sit up slowly, propping my upper torso limply against my futon. It wouldn’t take much to get up and turn on the television, but my energy is zapped and I just don’t feel like moving, even though I know it would be a good thing to help me stop dwelling on certain things.

Letting out another sigh, I let my eyes track to my coffee table, which has the piles of paper Gohan gave me last night at his party. Truthfully, I know I should be sorting out through all of the information to get an idea of what I need to do in order to apply for school, but that’s another avenue that seems impossible. The fact is, it’s terrifying to actually start taking steps to change one’s life, even if those steps are something that will lead to an overall improvement in said life. The more I think about being a teacher, the more I realize that it is something I could see myself doing and enjoying. But school costs money, and I don’t like the idea of having to take out loans or give up my apartment, no matter what Gohan says to the contrary. And then there is no guarantee that I would find a job. I know the information he gave me is supposed to help, but at the moment, it just seems like one more insurmountable obstacle and I can say with one hundred percent certainty that my motivation is not where it should be. It doesn’t help that I also feel guilty over the fact that as of yet, I haven’t even glanced at it. Oh well…ignoring it for one stinking day isn’t going to be that much of a hindrance.

What to do though? I’m bored. Idly tapping my fingers against my thigh in a steady tattoo, it’s almost a blessing when the phone suddenly rings, snapping me out of the trance like state I’ve drifted off into. Standing quickly, I leap around the futon and run the few steps I need to take in order to enter my small kitchen. Grabbing the phone hastily off the hook, I press the talk button and answer mechanically.

“Hello?”

I hear a quick intake of breath, as though the person on the other end has reservations about calling me. Scrunching my eyebrows together in irritation when the person doesn’t respond, I slowly speak into the receiver.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

“Uhh…Goten. Didn’t know if you would really answer your phone this time around.”

Trunks.

Backing up slightly, I rest my hips against the counter and pull the cordless phone closer to my ear.

“Yeah…that was stupid of me. I freaked my mom right out,” I respond, suddenly nervous for no apparent reason. Forcing out a laugh, I can feel my cheeks heat in embarrassment over the thoughts of how uncharacteristically melancholic my behavior has been for the last few weeks.

“I…know. I was at the picnic yesterday and up until you got there buddy, she didn’t stop making comments about how she was going to kick your ass for being such a pussy. And for worrying her. She’s a scary woman, your mother. The only thing redeeming about her is her phenomenal cooking ability. Otherwise…”

Feeling a genuine smile start to crack, I relax against the counter and push away the awkwardness that’s made itself known since realizing that Trunks is on the other end of the phone. It seems like…when we were younger. I know that isn’t the case, but taking refuge in the past is better than being overwhelmed by uncertainty and discomfiture. Listening to Trunks rant about my mother’s tendency to be over the top is much better than letting events from yesterday and the previous few weeks flit back into my conscious awareness while talking to him.

“Yo, earth to Goten? Are you still with me?”

Shaking my head, it doesn’t take much to realize that I must have been spacing out while he’s been talking to me. Pushing myself away from the counter, I veer of into my bedroom and fall onto my bed, rolling over on my back before responding.

“Uh, yeah. I was just thinking. I didn’t mean to space out on you like that.”

There is an extended pause and a slow exhalation of breath before Trunks’ voice comes back on.

“About what?”

“Huh?” I ask. He answers slowly and succinctly; as though he’s talking to a person with lower than normal intelligence.

“What…were…you…thinking…about…?”

“Life.”

“Wow Goten. That just told me so much. Well, whatever. Are you still planning on coming over?”

Slightly surprised at the change of subject, I wonder if he doesn’t want to know about what I’m thinking, which bothers me slightly. Pushing away my fickle irritation, I’m secretly glad that our arrangement last night about meeting up today wasn’t just a fluke or coincidence. It’s been a while since I’ve just spent time hanging with Trunks without the expectation of going out and socializing.

“Yeah, that was my general idea. I didn’t make any other plans for the evening, in case you were worried.”

“What do I have to be worried about? After all, it’s me you're coming over to see…and when you’re rich and handsome as moi, you never have to worry about people showing up. It’s just part of the package.”

Part of the package? Snorting out sarcastically, I keep back the chuckle forming in my throat.

“God Trunks, aren’t you full of yourself? Who said I was coming over to see you? I’m more for the movie than anything else, especially since Gohan threw out my remote control and I’m too lazy to turn the T.V. on manually. Sucks not having a T.V.”

“Then buy a new universal remote moron. You only live a block from S-Mart, and I’m pretty sure they sell those kinds of things there. Idiot!”

Sinking deeper into my pillow, I close my eyes and nod my head. In fact, if I really wanted to, I could probably stop by S-Mart before going over to Trunks to pick up a new one. Maybe that’s what I’ll do to fill up the few hours before flying over to Trunks’ place. It’s not like I have anything else to do, besides reading through mounds of paperwork, which doesn’t seem like an appealing option on a Sunday afternoon.

“So…how ‘bout coming over now? I don’t have anything going on. Unless…you have a hot date that I don’t know about?”

Smiling slightly, I sigh. Hot date? I don’t have one of those planned and in truth, I haven’t been on a hot date in months. Maybe even a year, but I’m not really sure, so that doesn’t say much for my social skills or wooing ability.

“No, don’t have a hot date planned. Sorry to disappoint.”

“Why would I be disappointed? That means I get you all to myself.”

Swallowing a little, my pulse speeds up slightly. Cursing myself for imagining some sort of veiled meaning behind Trunks’ words, I try to counter my inward feelings of nervousness with a blasé retort.

“Just try to behave yourself when I get there. I know how much you can’t wait to jump me.”

There’s a long pause, as though my statement surprises Trunks. Thinking over the words in my head, I sit up abruptly feeling both extremely foolish and idiotic at the same time. All day, I’ve been trying to shove last night out of my head and what do I do, but all but push what happened into his face. Way to go, Goten.

“Trunks, are you…are you there?”

My ears pick up a faint rustling sound before the clear sound of Trunks’ tenor voice floats through the receiver.

“Of course I am. Did you hear the phone click? Sometimes Chibi, you need to use your head. Just…just get your ass over here, and I’ll promise to try and keep my hands to myself. But, you know me. I’m a man whore, so I’m not guaranteeing that you’ll leave here tonight unmolested. See you in five.”

With that, the sound of the phone being hung up comes through to my end. Hitting the off button with my thumb, I throw the phone over onto the other side of my bed before I sit up and stretch my arms over my head. Yawning, I stand up slowly and shuffle over to my closet, pulling out an old Capsule Corporation T-shirt and a pair of tan cargo shorts. Pulling the shirt on over my naked chest and then slipping the shorts over my boxers, I step into the bathroom and brush my teeth, running my fingers through my slightly flattened hair. I look like a vagabond, especially since I haven’t bothered with shaving and my five o’clock shadow is deeply pronounced. Shrugging slightly to myself, I spit out a wad of saliva mixed with toothpaste, rinsing my brush off with the running tap water before throwing my toothbrush back in its cup and stepping out of my small bathroom into my living area.

Grabbing my keys off the kitchen counter, I walk over to the air conditioning unit and turn down the air before switching off the lights. Slipping into a pair of beat up sandals, I slowly open the door to my apartment and step out into the warm, mid-afternoon sunlight. Closing and locking the door behind me, I leisurely walk down the stairs and head out onto the hot concrete pavement of the sidewalk, heading in the general direction of where Trunks lives.

This time around, I don’t bother with taking the bus or calling a taxi. Walking outside within the bustling city, I realize how long it has been since I’ve just been outside for the sake of enjoying the day. Trunks is right and so is my family: I’ve been acting like an idiot lately and my depressed attitude is not like me at all. But what does it really all mean?

I have high hopes for today. I want to know if our fist fight and ensuing conversation last night was enough to drive home to Trunks how much I want to understand why he’s driven to doing the things that he does. And perhaps the same can be true of me as well. He doesn’t have the right to make hurtful comments to me, but I guess he does have the right to know about what’s going on in my life and why I have this thirst within me to prove that I’m capable, that I’m worth something, and that I can be just as successful as he is. I sometimes wonder if this…this distance between us has come about because of my own feelings of inadequacy. When you grow up compared to a paragon, sometimes your own viewpoints become skewed, which seems to be the case with me. But whatever. I’m not a philosopher. Never have been and never will be.

I know my way to Trunks’ apartment by memory. A few years ago, before we started to have these issues between us, he decided to move out on his own away from the prying eyes of both Bulma and Vegeta. I guess I can’t blame him for that, since I pretty much did the same thing. But my ideas of the real reason he decided to strike out on his own are very different from the reasons for my own attempt at independence. I think a lot of the reason why Trunks chose to leave the spacious apartment he had on Capsule Corporation property had more to do with privacy in regards to his sexual exploits than anything else. I remember him telling me about bringing a girl home one time and having Vegeta bust in on him at four o’clock in the morning for some early morning training, only to find his son in the middle of fucking the woman’s brains out. A week later, he was moving to a penthouse apartment on the other side of West City.

All that aside, he lives at the opposite end of town from where I’m situated and walking can take the better part of two hours. Deciding to skip going to S-mart for the moment, I veer off into a dingy, littered alley before powering up and blasting up into the air. I know it probably seems like a risk to you, flying where so many people can see me, but most people are centered on their basic day-to-day activities to notice something extremely out of the ordinary. At any rate, I’m not too concerned about being caught.

In a few seconds, I land on the outer balcony of Trunks’ apartment. Standing awkwardly, I scratch the back of my calf before taking a step towards the French doors that lead to the inside of his apartment. Halfway through my step, I pause when a whiff of cigarette smoke passes by on the breeze. Pivoting slightly, I turn my eyes and find myself watching Trunks as he leans up against the other side of the balcony, his own eyes taking in the sight of the skyline as he takes in a deep drag of his cancer stick before slowly exhaling the smoke through his nostrils. Unbidden, a thought of how good he looks standing there, even with a damn cigarette held between his tapered fingers, shoves its way into my brain. Shaking my head for good measure, I step towards him and clear my throat. He turns and looks at me, smirking before crushing what’s left of his cigarette on the balcony rail.

“I knew you were there, Chibi. Are you impatient for some reason? Afraid I won’t give you my undivided attention?”

As the words start to spill past his lips, he pushes of the railing and starts walking towards me, taking a step slowly and deliberately with each word until he’s standing in front of me, the toes of his bare feet touching my own. Once again, whether he’s meaning to or not, his brash behavior and close proximity make me nervous, mostly because I can’t tell what his intentions are and the fact that I…am starting to admit to myself that I find him attractive. It would cause me to lose face if I back up a half step, and I don’t want to do that in front of him. That part of it goes way back to when we were younger, when we’d have ridiculous, made up endurance contests. I never wanted to lose to him, yet he always had a way of making me do something stupid and so I never actually ended up being the winner. I guess some things never really change, and I can say that whenever Trunks does something out of character, I’m the one left reeling from it. And it’s never really crossed my mind to ever try and unbalance him, even now.

So I just stand there, giving him the deer in the headlight look, which only makes the slight quirk of his lips turn into a full blown smirk. As usual, he knows that he’s in control and I’m at the mercy of whatever it is that he has planned until his actions snap me back into reality and I try to fight against him. This time, he stays his ground, moving in slightly closer to me. Unintentionally, I take in a quick breath that sounds like a gasp for air, as though I’m drowning. Kicking myself mentally, I watch as he raises his right arm, bringing his hand up as though he’s going to cup my cheek. Blushing hotly, it takes every ounce of control to not back away or push my face into his hand like a moron.

His face suddenly seems to be an inch from my own. My heart starts beating faster, a steady lub-dub pounding through my ears as the blood starts pouring into my face and spreading lower throughout my body. I haven’t….I haven’t had a reaction like this to anyone in a long time and suddenly my humiliation knows no bounds. If he realizes what it is that he’s doing to me, I wouldn’t be able to live it down. Not from Trunks, at any rate.

“Goten, you’re way too tense. You need to relax.”

He moves in closer…closer, and then I feel a painful jab to the center of my forehead.

Abruptly, he’s out of range, laughing at me with his arms crossed over his chest while I blink dumbly and slowly rub the sore spot in the middle of my brow. It takes me a few seconds to realize that he had effectively trapped me for whatever reason and then flicked me painfully in the forehead with his index finger. Getting a hold of my senses, I growl angrily under my breath and lunge towards him, only to watch as he nimbly steps to the side. Glaring at him, I rub my forehead again, trying to massage the soreness of my skin away.

“What the hell was that for?”

He looks at me and shrugs half-heartedly, his laughter dying in his throat as he watches me with a look of gravity in his eyes.

“What was it for? Come on, Goten! Don’t be such a prude. It was just for fun, what else? And you fall for those sorts of tricks every time, although I wonder what it was that you were thinking about that made you stiffen up like that. God forbid that you were thinking I was actually going to kiss you. I mean, how disgusting would that be?”

I freeze where I am. Trunks is a dichotomy of contrasts at the moment. His face still holds an amused smirk, but his voice sounds brittle and sharp, with a hint of resentment mixed in for good measure. Not really knowing what to do or say, or even what it means, I shuffle a bit closer and hold out my hand in supplication.

“Trunks…I…”

He holds up his own hand to stop me.

“Just…whatever. I was playing with you and you just end up in my trap each and every time. You’ve really got to work on not being so gullible. Now come on. I’m fucking hungry. Are you?”

Nodding my head in agreement, I follow his lead and step into his apartment, which makes mine look cheap in comparison. He grabs his cell phone off of a decorative table and then heads into a room, which contains his entertainment center. The whole room is probably the size of my kitchen, bathroom, and living area combined. Leisurely, he rounds his spacious sofa and heads to a mini fridge built into the wall. Opening it up, he grabs a couple of bottles of something and throws one to me before flopping down across the cushions. Raising the bottle up to my eyes so I can examine it, I’m not surprised to find out that it’s a bottle of expensive, imported beer. Popping the cap off with my finger, I take an experimental swallow before stepping closer to where Trunks is sitting, watching me with a curious expression etched across his features.

“Fuck Goten, it’s just a beer. I didn’t drug it, if that’s what you're so uptight about.”

Shrugging, I take another swallow, gulping it down and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t drug beer Trunks. What would be the point, since beer itself is a drug?”

He looks at me curiously and then sneers at me, causing me to lick my lips in a nervous manner. His current expression reminds me of a fox about to attack a chicken, and I happen to be the unlucky bird.

“There are a lot of reasons why someone would drug alcohol. For one thing, alcohol makes certain drugs much more potent, much more dangerous. Secondly, when you mix drugs with alcohol, the effectiveness of the drug is greatly increased. So say I was really interested in, I don’t know, shall we say fucking somebody? Yeah, fucking somebody, and they prove to be quite resistant to my charms. I just slip a little something into their drink and suddenly, they’re on fire for me. It’s just that simple.”

I know he’s lying because I highly doubt Trunks would ever have problems getting anyone into his bed. As far as I know, any girl Trunks has ever seduced has always been a willing partner. Yet, I still feel uncomfortable, and I have a feeling that he’s acting like this on purpose, punishing me for something that I did wrong but am not aware of. Still, I can’t help but think that his somewhat overt sexual overtones have to do with not letting him kiss me. It’s maddening because I think that all of this is in my head, yet the happy seeming Trunks I talked to on the phone seems to have disappeared and I’m left with an outwardly happy yet inwardly angry friend who happens to like playing games with me.

Trying to shake off my unease, I round the sofa and sit next to him, making sure to keep a few inches of space between us, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Shit Goten, I’m just teasing! I can’t believe you actually think I would drug your beer to get you to have sex with me. I mean, I’m sure your virgin ass couldn’t handle my cock anyway. And besides, doing the nasty with you…well, it’d be pretty hard to imagine you as a hot chick with your scruffy whiskers poking me in the face.”

Listening to him, I suddenly wonder why I bothered to come at all, if all he intends to do is insult me and make me out to look like an idiot. Trying to control my anger, I squeeze my beer bottle until the knuckles of my hand turn white.

“There’s only so much a person can visually pretend when they’re having sex, ya’ know? And since you seem to have an over abundance of testosterone, I bet you’re really hairy everywhere, and doing a hairy girl is just wrong.”

I don’t know why, but a sudden, irrational anger suddenly bursts forward. Crushing my beer bottle in my hand, letting the amber liquid and white foam splash across my shorts and onto Trunks’ expensive sofa, I throw the broken shards of glass onto the carpeting as I stand up and start to leave, ignoring the pain of the gashes I just inflicted upon myself. I can hear Trunks shouting something, but I can’t understand and so I hastily make my way towards the exit. Unfortunately, Trunks beats me to the punch. Grabbing hold of my shoulders, he yanks me away from the doorway and pushes me back into the entertainment room.

“Goten! You’re…you’re bleeding everywhere. Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“Home,” I growl out angrily.

“Don’t go, not with your hand looking like that.”

He pulls it up gingerly and I wince when I see the deep tears in my flesh and the blood that’s funneling down the skin of my arm.

“Just…stay put, and I’ll be right back.”

I watch as he hurriedly exits the room, leaving me in the company of myself and my thoughts.

Today just seemed so promising, but either our problems are deeper than either one of us thought, or the irrational anger that consumed us both yesterday and ended up in a fist fight still hasn’t dissipated. Whatever the case, I’m pissed at myself for taking Trunks bait, and I’m pissed at him for being crude, vulgar, and insulting in such a personal way. In truth, I don’t think he even realizes the extent of the cruelty behind his words, yet it seems almost odd that he could so effectively stick a knife in me and twist it until I couldn’t take it any more without knowing my own inner turmoil in concern towards him.

I don’t have much time to think before Trunks pops back in through the door, carrying bandages and antiseptic with him. Grabbing hold of my uninjured arm, he pulls me out into the hallway and then off to the right into a bathroom. Holding my hand over the sink, he turns on the hot water and sticks it under the steady stream coming from the faucet.

After the water rinses most of the blood off, I pull my damaged hand out of his grip.

“I can handle it. It’s not the first time I’ve been hurt. You don’t have to help.”

He gives me a look of disbelief before completely ignoring my statement as he tries to grab my hand once again. I back away and give him a look that clearly conveys my anger and hostility towards him.

“You’re being an idiot Goten. There’s probably glass shards imbedded in your skin and it’s easier to pull out the pieces when somebody helps you. Besides, you know as well as I do that I’m just as qualified, if not more qualified, to dress serious wounds. So stop being a baby and give me your fucking hand.”

I don’t agree with him about being more qualified to dress wounds, since we were both taught by Vegeta at a young age how to deal with injuries, in case we injured each other in our play or sparring matches. It’s somewhat pointless to argue with him though, because he inherited both Vegeta and Bulma’s stubbornness. However, both my parents aren’t known for their complacent attitudes, and I can be just as obstinate as him. I shake my head no and start the meticulous task of plucking the miniscule slivers of glass left in the palm of my hand.

A few minutes pass in which Trunks just takes up a post next to the door, leaning against the doorframe as he inspects my wound cleaning ability. Eventually, I’m satisfied that all foreign bodies are out of my raw skin and relieved to see that the cuts aren’t deep and that they’ve finished clotting for the most part. Taking the antiseptic, I use a cotton ball and dab it onto my wounds, wincing from the stinging sensation before wrapping my hand in a layer of gauze.

Moving away from the sink, I head towards the doorway where Trunks is still standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you going to let me pass?”

“What’s the magic word?” he asks softly, his blue eyes locked on mine.

“Please let me out.”

“Come on Goten, do you seriously want to go home? You just got here.”

I know that I’m giving him an incredulous look because I can’t figure out how he can be so obtuse about shit.

“I…I can’t believe you Trunks. Why would I want to stay when you’ve had this nasty attitude since the moment I landed on your balcony? You sure as hell aren’t making it enjoyable. If you’re still mad at me about…about yesterday and the weeks before then, I can understand that I guess. But at least tell me why you're still angry instead of skewering me with insults and barbs aimed where it hurts the most.”

He sighs and then pushes his hand into his pale lavender hair.

“Yeah, I guess I did overdo it. I really didn’t mean any of it Goten. It’s just…forget it. It isn’t important. I’ve really upset you and…I’m sorry. If you want to go back to your place, I totally get it. I have been acting like an ass, especially pissing you off to the point where you hurt yourself.”

Nodding my head, I accept his apology with a grain of salt. I guess that I know he’s sorry, but I still don’t understand why he had to pick those particular barbs to come at me with, and he hasn’t really explained why he was still angry with me in the first place. However, I’m not one to complain, especially since this was what I had planned for my day off before returning to the drudgery of selling used cars for Mr. Nezumi.

“So, are we cool?”

“Yeah,” I say as I walk up to him, “we’re cool.”

“Good. I’ll order some noodles and then I have a bunch of movies we can watch, unless you want to do something else?”

It’s more of a statement than a question. Do something else? What I’d really like to do is just talk to him about the things that seem to be pushing us apart, driving a wedge between the friendship we once had the lives that we are both leading at the moment. What I want is to understand what it was that I did to make him so edgy today, when I thought we had all but apologized for everything last night. But I guess I’ll settle for a movie and the company of the person who I want to spend the most time with. Doing something with Trunks is better than sitting in my apartment by myself dwelling on the truth about my feelings for him, or the uncertain future I’ve tentatively planned out with my brother. There will be time enough in the future to deal with those two things when they need to be truly dealt with.

“Nah, I’m fine with that. Just as long as it isn’t a porn marathon.”

He cracks a genuine smile and then rubs his hair sheepishly.

“What, you aren’t interested in seeing naked women getting some action? What the fuck is wrong with you? Well, rest assured, I only picked out action movies devoid of that particular action.”

With that said, he pulls away from the bathroom door and heads out into the hallway. I follow behind him and once again find myself back in the entertainment room. This time, however, Trunks is perfectly cordial and goofy, making some stupid comment about the way my hair looks like I stuck my hand in a light socket. I smile blandly and sit down on the couch as he fiddles around with the lighting and the television, waiting for the movie to start.

Watching him, I think about what a perfect ass he can be, yet I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else. There is no one who would ever be able to replace Trunks in my life. For the first time I wonder if the same is true for him.

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Well, the issues are still there. The next chapter will begin the next segment: Goten finally makes a decision in regards to his future life. Will he also finally admit to himself what he really feels for Trunks? And what about Trunks? What will he say about Goten’s decision? And is there something that he’s hiding from Goten? Find out in the next chapter! And please review, if you would like!