To Understand Love

Disclaimer: Dragon Ball Z and all characters are the property of Toriyama Akira.

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Chapter 8

If I thought finding out Trunks wouldn’t be put off by my apparent homosexuality would make things clearer, I was wrong. Instead of feeling confident about how to proceed between us, I only feel more concerned about the unhealthiness of how we have been acting towards each other and how a sexual relationship would only complicate the brittle connection that still exists from that sense of obligation we’ve held towards each other since childhood. There is this sensation in my gut that keeps telling me no matter how much I might want to experiment with a sexual liaison involving my friend, the only thing that will happen is disappointment, anger, and an eventual breaking apart of the remnants left from our once inseparable friendship.

Realizing that the sun is well over the horizon, I sit up in my bed and scrub my hand across my eyes, trying to will away my tiredness from a sleepless night spent worrying about something I have lost control over. Letting out a deep yawn, I untangle my legs from the sheets that have managed to wrap themselves firmly around me, no doubt from my restless movements during the night. Standing up from the bed unsteadily, I stumble across the floor to the bedroom window and open the shades, blinking against the brightness of the morning sunlight spilling across my body and illuminating the mess around me.

I can tell just by looking outside that the day is going to be a beautiful one. Letting out a depressed sigh, I wish I felt like I could enjoy it. Instead, I have this twisted feeling of despair sinking more deeply into my bones. It seems like no matter what I do or how I say things, I can’t seem to fix or repair the problems between Trunks and myself and now things have become infinitely more complicated then they were before. I want to ask somebody, anybody, why can’t life be simple? Why does God set events in motion that cause the suffering and anguish so many people go through? It’s an oxymoron of sorts: that a benevolent god would make living day to day so difficult for people on a periodic basis. In truth, I’m not much of a believer in fate or god, but I can’t get this idea out of my head that somehow, the good fortune my father and my brother have always known has been taken away from me as a way to balance out what some would consider unfair circumstances. Fuck that.

Slowly, I stretch and then head towards my bathroom to take a quick shower, shave, and use the toilet. Once I finish, I grab clean underwear, a T-shirt, and a pair of pants off one of the many piles of clean clothes scattered around my room among the dirty, put them on, and then make my way towards my kitchen.

I can already feel my stomach rumbling and I know I’m starving. Opening up the refrigerator, I’m greeted with the sight of a chunk of moldy cheese, half a carton of eggs and milk that expired a week ago. Crossing my arms, I slam the door shut, suddenly enveloped in an uncharacteristic rage. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! Glaring at the offending appliance, I stalk around to the other side of the small counter and seat myself on my futon. Grinding my teeth, I try to concentrate on why the fact that I forgot to buy groceries this week has put me into such a poor mood.

In truth, my anger has nothing to do with my lack of food. Instead, it has more to do with the fact that I have no idea how I’m going to face Trunks when he calls me today, if he even remembers to do that. I am frustrated with the situation and have been for months. All I kept thinking about last night is the fact that while I can be sure of my intentions in such a relationship, I have no idea if Trunks is indulging in a whim, one that somehow managed to take hold of in his brain and one that he can’t let go of.

Perhaps I am being overly negative and maybe that stems from a lack of confidence that I have always had. It’s difficult to believe in one’s self-worth when growing up among paragons, something I have always known. Truthfully, the stark reality of this situation is that no matter how much I might want to give Trunks the benefit of the doubt, something I have always done with him, I can’t help thinking that he’s only out for a conquest, a way to put aside his realization that our relationship has shifted and if he wants to bring it back to the way it was, he has to do something about it. Perhaps, in his mind, he believes that having sex would be a way to show me how much he cares. However, all I can see is that he could have anyone he wants and I’m…different. I’m half-Saiyan, just like him. I’ve had an intimate connection with him since childhood, especially after we learned the Fusion technique. I know him more deeply then anyone else who claims to have an acquaintanceship with him. Perhaps that is what is driving his desire for me. The people he normally sleeps with mean nothing to him. I am someone different. And once he’s had a taste of what it would be like to be sexually intimate with me, he’ll throw me to the side and destroy everything we once shared. I would rather live a lifetime of agony, denying my own feelings and thoughts in regards to him yet keeping the friendship we’ve had since childhood instead of throwing it out the second I cross the line between friend and lover.

I sit on the couch thinking about these…philosophical dilemmas for a few more minutes, letting my sudden anger and frustration dissipate before standing up and stretching. Deciding that I can’t dwell on last night, nor can I worry about what Trunks might say to me over the phone should he decide to call, I come to the conclusion that the only way to alleviate some of my stress is to act like everything is normal and go about my day to day routine.

Spotting a pair of battered up sandals, I slide my feet inside them and wriggle around my toes before absently nodding my head, grabbing my keys and wallet from the kitchen counter, and making my way out the door and down the street to the local super market.

Thankfully, because of this change of attitude compared to what I woke up with, my grocery shopping ends up being enjoyable and a welcome relief to the stifling confinement of my small and messy apartment. I don’t know why I actually like buying food. I think it probably has to do with the fact that I enjoy eating, just as every Saiyan does. Slowly, my cart starts to fill to the brim with food that will only last me a couple of days. Eventually, I wind my way to the checkout counter, only to find a long line typical of a Saturday morning. Standing idly, I grab a magazine off one of the racks and flip through it, only to find an article written about Trunks in one of the gossip columns. Feeling disgusted with people in general for reading such filth and not wanting to find out any more of Trunks’s dirty secrets then I already know, I throw the magazine back on the rack in irritation, only to almost hit the hand of the person standing behind me in line.

“Sorry,” I mumble out in embarrassment, turning to the person in question, only to be caught off guard by a pair of stunning violet eyes blinking at me in confusion. Swallowing away a sudden dryness that seems to take hold of my throat, I back up as far as my cart will allow me to move, banging my hip clumsily against the cool metal surface of the handle. I don’t understand it….this irrational nervousness on my part over a complete stranger that I’ve never seen before in my life. I have this overwhelming sensation that reminds me of a premonition of sorts. Never having been one who believed in superstition or omens, I force my unaccounted nervousness away and smile slightly before turning back to my groceries.

Of course…things don’t end up being that simple.

The line is unbelievably slow and I have this crawling awareness that someone is staring at me and that it happens to be the person standing behind me. Stiffening my shoulders, I turn around only to find myself peering into that strange pair of oddly luminous, violet eyes.

“I think I’ve seen you around.”

“Excuse me?” I ask in slight surprise, not understanding if this person is speaking to me or to themselves.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’ve seen you around. You run through the park almost every day, in the evening? You’ve got great stamina.”

The last statement is said in such a way that makes me blush, wondering if they’re talking about athletic stamina or something else all together. It also creeps me out that this person has been watching me for the last month without me being aware of it. To top it off, it occurs to me that while this person first had an oddly sexless look about them, with highly gelled and highlighted light brown hair, two large diamond studs in their ears, and something that looks suspiciously like eyeliner accenting the abnormal largeness of their eyes, they are definitely male. And the look in his eyes suddenly comes across as being very predatory and I happen to be the hapless prey.

Not knowing what to say and wishing the line would speed up to get me away from the obviously frank assessment of the man standing behind me, I nod my head slightly and once again try to turn around, only to have my arm snagged by one of his long, slim, and tapered hands. Growling out against his intentional invasion of my personal space, I spin on my heel and push his hand off my body, snapping out a verbal command.

“What?”

Immediately, I feel foolish for lashing out when he backs up nervously and rubs his hands back and forth, his basket of groceries forgotten by his feet. For all I know, it could be my over active mind taking his behavior to a completely different level then what was intended. Perhaps it’s due to the nervousness of finally admitting to myself that I’m homosexual and that I’m not ready to acknowledge that I might find more then just Trunks attractive. Or perhaps…the thought of another man besides Trunks finding myself sexually interesting is something new and unexpected. Hell, I don’t even know if the man standing behind me is…gay, although for all intents and purposes, he does come across immediately as such.

Exhaling a breath through my mouth, I rub my hand nervously through my hair before once again apologizing. He at least has the decency to look uncomfortable; obviously aware that his touching a complete stranger in such a familiar manner isn’t something a person would normally do in a crowded check out line at the grocery store.

“Look, you shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I guess I got a bit carried away…”

I listen as his voice trails off and his eyes look away slightly to the right, as though he’s thinking about something before shaking it off and setting his unsettling eyes on my face.

“You seem tense, uncomfortable and I was just trying to…trying to help? Well, I went about it the wrong way. I guess it’s just because I see you run through the park so much I had it in my head that we were much better acquainted then we actually are. Um, I know that sounds really stupid and lame, but…forget it.”

His dialog unnerves me a bit and I wonder for the first time if he’s not quite right in the head. I mean, how could he have ever figured we were acquaintances, especially since up until this point, I had never laid eyes on him before? Moving my cart forward and seeing with relief that I’ll be up next to check out, I glance at him and watch as he looks at me with a sudden expectancy in his eyes. For what, I have no idea. Ignoring him, or at least trying to, I turn back fully around and start picking at my nails. Thankfully, he decides not to try and talk to me, and before I know it, it’s my turn. Putting my large amount of groceries on the belt, I listen to the dull beeps as the cashier pushes them across the scanner. Eventually, my cart is empty and so is my wallet, the last of my pay going towards feeding the endless pit that happens to be my Saiyan stomach. Leaning over the end of the belt, I put the freshly bagged groceries into my cart and start to head towards the exit, pointedly ignoring the stranger behind me.

Once I leave the store, I let out a breath of barely concealed relief: relief that I’m away from him, his strange comments, his strange looks, and my own strange …reaction, for lack of a better word. Shaking my head, I start unloading my groceries, cursing slightly in my head for forgetting to bring a storage capsule with me to put them in and realizing that somehow, I’m going to have to carry them down two blocks and bear with the inevitable strange looks of people wondering how one person can carry so many bags of groceries alone. Shrugging my shoulders, I organize in my head how best to go about it when I hear a shout and turn around, only to see the unnerving stranger crossing quickly towards me, his earrings glinting brightly in the sunlight as he makes his way over. Feeling an irrational frustration growing deep inside the pit of my stomach, I turn away, but it’s too late because he sees me look at him and there is no way I can get away without leaving my groceries behind.

“Hey!” he mumbles out breathlessly as he catches up to me, obviously having hastily exited to track me down before I left the property.

Crossing my arms, I try to imitate Vegeta’s well-known death glare to get him to leave me alone, but I’ve never been good at intimidating people. Trunks always used to say that it was because I’m too good-natured of a person and too naïve, enough so that people can always sense my looks are much worse then my bite. Apparently, that still holds true as the stranger just peeks at me expectantly, obviously waiting for me to reply to his greeting.

“What do you want?” I finally grind out, my tone of voice obviously disconcerting him as his pale cheeks color slightly while he looks down at his feet briefly.

“Um, I think we got off to a rough start…do you need help taking your groceries home?”

I don’t understand him. He doesn’t even know me, except for seeing me run in the park whenever he’s doing god knows what. I run my hands through my hair, trying to figure why he’s so adamant in trying to get to know me through our brief encounter at the grocery store and why he would want to help me carry something I have no problem dealing with. I ask him as much.

“Why do you want to help? You have your own groceries to take home and besides, I might not even live anywhere near here.”

I think my argument makes sense and I commend myself for not giving into my irrational discomfort enough to snap out a crass reply. Apparently, my argument is for not as he suddenly straightens and smiles at me, his violet eyes locking onto my equally dark ones, leaving me with a feeling that I’m not the master of what is going on in this situation and that I have somehow fallen into his web and am at the mercy of whatever his designs happen to be.

“I want to help because it would be the right thing to do. Besides, how else do strangers become friends if not through helping each other out? And on top of that, I’ve seen you come here enough times to know that you don’t drive a car and that you walk, so it only makes sense that you live somewhere within the vicinity.”

I openly gape at him, unnerved that not only has he been watching me at the park but that he has made it a point to figure out my grocery shopping routine or something very like it. Taking a step back, I ask him if he’s been stalking me, which only earns a confused look and a nervous laugh in return.

“Ah, no, although I suppose it would seem like it. I live across the way, over in the Olympic Apartments and you…you’re interesting and I just happened to notice we cross paths many times both in the park and here at the store. I have never gathered enough of my nerve up to talk to you until today, though I’m muddling it up pretty badly, I’m afraid.”

No kidding, I think to myself.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I just want to help, that’s it. My name’s Shinji, by the way. Murasaki Shinji.”

With that, he bows slightly to me and then extends his shapely, almost feminine hand out. Not knowing what else to do, I gradually put my own out and we shake awkwardly, his skin against mine sending out an almost instantaneous tingle that puts me on edge. Letting go quickly, I mumble my own name out in reply.

“Son Goten.”

“Well Son Goten, do you need help?”

I can tell he’s already decided what my answer must be. In truth, I don’t need help at all and his pushing himself into my acquaintance irritates me as much as it alarms me. Yet, I know that he most likely means no harm whatsoever and should he try anything funny, I’m more then capable of dealing with his weak, human body. Coming to my decision, I nod my head in the affirmative, at which he begins to pick up half of my bags. I can tell immediately that he seems somewhat frail, at least by my standards, so I grab three of his bags, leaving him with three and myself with nine.

“Uhh, I could have…”

I cut him off with a sharp nod.

“Yeah, and then I would have had to call the ambulance to revive you from heat exhaustion and pulled muscles.”

This shuts him up immediately and with that, I begin walking towards my apartment building. After about ten minutes of silence, we arrive, at which point I climb the stairs, drop by bags unceremoniously and unlock and open my door. Grabbing five bags, I bring them inside and put them on the counter and go to get the rest while Shinji brings his own load in.

“So this is where you live…It seems like a nice enough place.”

I grunt out a noncommittal reply, hoping that he gets the hint that it interests me little if he likes where I live or not. Taking the grocery bags from him, I ignore our minimal skin contact and put them on the counter with the rest before turning around towards him.

“You really didn’t have to help. I could have handled it by myself…but I guess, thanks.”

He smiles cryptically at me before accepting my gratitude.

“It was no problem. I wanted to…”

His voice trails off as he slowly takes a step backwards, his eyes once again glancing around and pausing on the few pictures I have displayed along with the recognition that my apartment hasn’t been thoroughly cleaned in over a month. I have a feeling that he’s going to offer to stay and clean, but he doesn’t say anything about that and instead offers something else that makes me swallow uncomfortably.

“Like I said, I live in Olympic Apartments. You know where they are?”

I nod my head briskly.

“I live in 1708 B. If you ever need to talk or you just feel lonely, you can give me a call. I’m usually around after 5:00 pm. I get this feeling that you need a…friend. Here.”

I narrow my eyes and watch as he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket and flips it open, extracting a business card. Extending his arm towards me, he offers the card, which I hastily grab, before realizing how stupid it is for me to take it; especially since this whole incident screams to me that the man is either hitting on me or is mentally ill. Flicking the card on top of the counter next to where I am standing, I peek at him by tilting my head to the side, trying to figure out what his underlying plan really is. He says I’m interesting and that he thinks I’m lonely, and I don’t even want to think about how long he’s been watching me from the shadows, waiting to pounce at the right opportunity. I already know that I have no intention of calling him or ever seeing him again. However, why he finds me interesting does pique my curiosity. I’ve always considered myself too plain and insignificant, especially in comparison to any number of my acquaintances. So I ask him.

He shrugs his shoulders slightly before answering.

“I don’t really know. When I first saw you run through the park, I thought you looked so free, but it’s been a while since I noticed that you really aren’t and that you try to hide how you feel, even to yourself. Look, I know you probably think I’m crazy. It’s not the first time that it has happened, you know. But…I have this gift to be able to look at a person and realize if their…um, inner soul is whole and happy. You always seem sad and I want to help. It doesn’t hurt to have friends to rely on once in a while, you know?”

I can tell my look of disbelief is pretty much clear for him to see when he bites his bottom lip and wrings his hands slightly.

“I’m really not crazy. You don’t have to believe me, but I’m just clarifying that fact for you. I’m there whenever you just need to talk about things Goten. You can call my cell whenever you want. No matter what you think, I know that I’ll be hearing from you.”

I want to tell him he’s a nut job and there is no way, no way in hell, that I would ever call him. It doesn’t even matter to me that, for all intents and purposes, I do owe him something for helping me take my groceries home. It does matter, however, that his statements, no matter how insane they sound, ring deep down inside my heart. I don’t have many friends because I’ve never needed them, content to have Trunks and Trunks alone. Yet, where has that gotten me? I am lonely and I can’t rely on just Trunks to relieve my discomfort, especially now with…with all the issues that have cropped up, last night only adding to them. But, I don’t intend on cluing Murasaki Shinji in on that facet. I don’t need his type of friendship, whatever that might be. Pushing away from the counter, I move towards the fridge and open it up, realizing that I have one cola left, my grape soda having been drunk by Trunks and myself the day before. Pulling it out, I turn around and walk towards him, trying not to display the warring feelings about this person that are going through my brain a million miles per hour.

“Here. It’s not much, but you can have it in my appreciation for helping.”

His lips quirk slightly at the corners of his mouth, his eyes gleam slightly, and he carefully takes the drink from me before bending over to pick up his single bag of groceries.

“You really don’t have too, but I never say no to any sort of offer of refreshment. My thanks Son Goten.”

With that said, I watch as he salutes me with the can of soda before he leaves through the open door and walks down the street.

Shaking my head, I close the door and blink, trying to figure out exactly what transpired between the two of us and if it really does mean something. Sighing, I put it to the back of my mind and then walk over to the kitchen counter and snatch his card up, staring at it before taking it and pushing it inside my silverware drawer, intent on forgetting about it.

With that done, I focus all of my energy into putting away my groceries and making a few sandwiches to occupy me while I work on scheduling, Trunks and Shinji relegated to a spot in my mind closed off to everything except for my work. It doesn’t take long before I’m completely absorbed in my task of assembling next month’s schedule on my new computer, which works like a dream. I lose track of time as I plan and designate tasks, Trunks and Shinji temporarily forgotten, at least until the phone rings.

Standing up slowly, I shake away the sluggishness that seems to have taken over my body from sitting in the same spot and staring at a computer for hours. Stepping over to the phone, I answer it.

“Hello?”

I scrunch my eyes together in irritation when I hear what sounds like a cross between a sigh and a deep breath.

“Hey Chibi…it’s me.”

Trunks.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Nothing…how about you? How are you?”

I think about if for a second. I’m confused. I’m afraid. And I don’t know what to say to him. I’m unsettled about Shinji from the grocery store, yet I don’t trust Trunks enough at this moment to spill my nervousness because I don’t know how he would react. Instead of telling him all of these things, I opt with a generic answer.

“I’m good.”

There’s a long pause as he digests my rather blasé answer.

“Don’t shit with me Goten. You aren’t fine and neither am I. How can you be after last night, or have you just conveniently forgotten about it? Well, it isn’t that simple. If it were, neither one of us would be in this mess.”

“Fine. What do you want me to say? Just tell me Trunks, since you know me so well, and that will be my answer.”

My retort is sarcastic and bitter, my own internal misery bubbling to the surface, no longer locked away in a safe place. His answer is equally such.

“Okay, if you’re going to be that way. I want you to say that you love me and that you’ll stop being such a fucking pussy bastard and act like the man you claim to be. Stop hiding behind your virtuous façade because I know you’re just as perverted as the next guy.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” I shout into the phone, uncomfortable over his assertion of love and angry over his characterization of me. I know I’m not virtuous and I’ve never pretended to be so, but I haven’t sunk to Trunks’s own level of depravity, nor would I wish to.

“It means you’re a sick homo and you want my cock up your ass. And I’m just as sick because I want to feel what it would be like to be inside you, fucking you over and over again until you scream. Do you dream about it Goten? Do you…have you ever wondered what it would be like to fuck me? Because I…I want it.”

My mouth is dry and I have to shake my head because his own claim of sexuality rings like a gong between my ears and between my legs. Have I ever dreamed of having sex with him? Yes…on more then one occasion. Do I want to have sex? I wouldn’t be male if I didn’t want to. However, the dilemma of our longstanding friendship and our current relationship seems to stand in the way as an obstacle, one which apparently, he hasn’t seemed to have considered.

“I know you do and I would be lying if I said that I also don’t want the same exact thing.”

There is a long pause and I can hear him fidget with his phone before he sucks in a breath and responds.

“So what’s stopping you? Because if you say fear, I’m going to say that it isn’t a good enough reason.”

I think long and hard to give him a reason. At first, the thought that runs around in my head is to pin my own true feelings about the matter to something entirely different, but it doesn’t take me long to realize how wrong it is to cower behind something that isn’t true. That it isn’t how a man would act, nor would it be how a true friend would behave either. It’s just that when the uncomfortable truth sinks in about how I’m going to answer Trunks, I come to the conclusion that by me being honest and forthright and not hiding behind how I really feel, things will truly and inevitably be different between us forever. I know that I am a coward when it comes to what Trunks thinks and that is why I have kept this mask covering my true intentions for longer then I can remember. I don’t want things to change, and if I could go back in time to fix the mistakes we’ve made, to make Trunks realize the harm he’s doing to himself and the people he cares about, I would. To help him realize that he doesn’t have to feel completely bound by what he is convinced of as his fate. However, that’s just a dream on my part and will never be reality. So instead, I come to the decision that should have been made months ago and finally acknowledge what should be acknowledged about the state our relationship is in and what can…never be. I seal my own coffin shut with a finality that makes me feel sick.

“I can’t because it’s wrong, that’s why! You’re my best friend, but I don’t feel like I’m…I feel as though your idea of having sex with me and my idea of what it means aren’t the same. Trunks, you can’t just fix problems by fucking around with a person you’ve cared about for as long as you can remember. It has to mean more then just feeling the pleasure of the moment. It has to be deeper then that. That’s what I want Trunks.”

“I don’t want a one-night stand. I want to know that the moment you and I cross the line between friends and lovers that we can still have both together. But I know at this moment, if we did what our bodies are telling us to do, it would destroy us, or at least what we once had. Our relationship is already in enough trouble, so why complicate it even more? I’m not willing to cross the line if it means losing you forever. I…love you Trunks, but I don’t want to be sacrificed because our current feelings are stronger than our relationship. And…I can’t watch you continue to kill yourself slowly because you hate your life. If you want this Trunks, then you have to be willing to work on things about our relationship and about what you do in your personal life. You wouldn’t be doing it alone because I’ll be there with you.

I exhale a deep breath, feeling my anxiety rise slightly as I wait for his forthcoming answer. Thankfully, or unthankfully, I only have to wait about ten seconds before his quiet voice comes through the receiver.

“So, let me get this straight Chibi. You think our relationship is about as broken as it can get and that my desire for you stems from the fact that I don’t know how to deal with problems and can only think of selfish desires? That I’d ditch you as soon as I had a taste of your tight virgin ass? Fuck you. Fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU! If that’s the case, then…take your virtuous ideals about our relationship and throw them out the window for all I care. You don’t understand me. You don’t know what I’m dealing with. How the fuck could you? I mean, you’re Son Goten, son of the great Son Goku, a blasted paragon. What do you know about hell, huh? What do you know about anything?”

I swallow, wondering how he could misconstrue things so badly, how he could think…And then my Saiyan side starts to bubble to the surface as my anger grows.

“I know a lot more about Hell then you give me credit for. I’ve been agony for months. Months because I’ve known what you don’t want to think about and that’s the fact that our friendship is broken just like you said. It’s broken because you can’t take the truth that things suck between us. You think your life is terrible? You’ve been handed things on a silver platter your entire life. You’ve never had to work at anything because your family’s taken care of you since the first day you were born into this world until now, when you’re a spoiled adult who doesn’t know how to go about getting the things he wants and hides behind sex, alcohol, and god knows what else because it’s easier then dealing with the shit life throws at you. Well, I’m telling you that things have to change. I’m willing to change them, but if you aren’t, then we might as well doom what we’ve had up until this point as a failure. Having sex with each other won’t change that fact, no matter how much you might wish it could.”

“Fine Goten. If you say it’s doomed, then so be it. I’m through with you. I don’t need you. I don’t want you. And I sure as hell can’t imagine whatever possessed me to even consider…Good-bye.”

Click.

I don’t know how many minutes pass while I just sit there and stare at my computer screen blankly, too shocked to do anything else. Eventually, that sensation passes, and I slowly drop the handset to the floor, too numb to even consider the fact that our friendship of twenty plus years is gone. When that truth does rear its head, however, anger that was just under the surface explodes. He said he would wait…he said it but he’s a fucking liar. He doesn’t get his way from the beginning so he takes away what we at least had, no matter how shitty it was, like a spoiled child. The only thought at the moment is how much I hate Trunks Briefs and how much I would like to smash his smug face in and beat him until there isn’t anything left. And then I feel sick. Disgusted for thinking such a thing and sick because I know he meant every word he said and I can’t believe he would willing to throw it all away.

Slumping back in my chair, a sinking sensation of loneliness mixed with despair creeps into my heart. I feel like he just ripped half of my heart away. It’s painful, like a knife stabbing me over and over again. Yet, I cling to the fact that whenever we’ve had a serious fight about something, he’s always come back. However, it’s always been because I apologized first, for the most part. I can’t back down though. I’m not willing to sacrifice my ideals and my morals to satisfy what he considers to be the way to fix everything. I will never do that unless it means he shares the same kind of love that I have for him…easy affection and deep understanding that no matter how many faults the other person has, no matter how many fights or arguments we might share, that they are worth coming back to again and again.

I think about this for a while before getting up to change and go for a run. I would do anything in my power for Trunks because I do love him. I love him enough to resist what would have been a mistake and find comfort in the fact that deep down inside, he must realize that truth or he wouldn’t have gotten so angry. Yet, Trunks is a lot like his father, more so then most people have ever realized except for myself and maybe Bulma. On the surface, he’s friendly towards most people and a highly social creature, but underneath, he’s extremely proud and resentful, and a blow to his pride is a serious wound. I know I damaged his pride and hurt his feelings, but I won’t accept the fact that he decided to end it. I let myself think that he’ll come around, that he’ll call me up and will talk things over and decide how best to go about fixing the things that need to be fixed.

Yet…there’s the other side to all of this; the doubtful, devilish part of my conscious that says the opposite. He won’t forgive me and he won’t change or fix what needs repair because he either won’t accept the way things are or he won’t admit that his own behavior is part of the issue. I’ve told him the truth, and in doing so, I laid out what I perceived to be his faults, just as he laid out mine. Yet, I’ve always been able to take that sort of criticism and acknowledge that it might be true, whereas he has never been able to do the same. To me, that spells out the real truth clearly, yet I won’t admit to that because to do so would mean I’ve acknowledged I have lost my other half.

Changing into my running clothes, I focus on my intended route and leave my apartment as soon as my shoes are on my feet. Running down the street and across the bridge, I push myself into the park and run past the trees, the children playing, and the couples strolling without seeing anything.

I cannot have lost my best friend.

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A/N: Well, this update is long overdue. I apologize for the length between chapters. I’ve had some issues with writer’s block and this chapter has been in the works for the last month. Also, as you can see, there will be an original character who will have a somewhat important role. I’ve planned this from the beginning, but he has been introduced earlier then I was intending because it fit in with what I was writing. Let me know what you think. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed. I truly appreciate them and I hope this chapter isn’t disappointing. I know many of you were hoping that Goten would get the picture with Trunks, but I’m trying to show that there is more to getting involved with a relationship involving intimacy then letting passions take hold of reason, something which Goten understands even though it might mean losing the friend he loves. Well, enough rambling. If you like this, let me know and if you don’t, also let me know (but be kind about it!). Thanks-Saiyajinxyz