Living in the Past
folder
Dragon Ball Z › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,123
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Dragon Ball Z › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,123
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own DragonballZ, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Living in the Past
***
The room was the stereotypical ‘you have a problem’ kind of place. There were chairs arranged in a circle, posters on the walls of every known minority that had ever beaten an addiction, and the smell of disgusting coffee lingering in the air. Oh yes, this was hell in a hand basket for poor Mirai. This was defiantly his mothers’ idea. She had been kind enough to let him stay at Capsule Corp, so the least he could do is sit here with the recovering drug addicts and pray that 9 o’clock came soon.
‘Oh just kill me now’ Mirai thought as he stared at the middle-aged woman walking through the door. Her long green skirt just barely touched the floor and her clean white iron blouse hung slightly over her hips.
“Hello everyone,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. “Welcome to narcotics anonymous.”
***
Closing the door to her lab, Bulma walked out into the hallway. Yawning loudly she made her way to the staircase fully prepared for bed. It was well into the wee hours of the morning and the blue haired scientists wanted nothing more than to pass out next to the psychotic prince she called a husband. Bulma stopped as she passed by a particular room on the top floor of Capsule Corp. The room in question now belonged to Mirai. What made her stop was the amount of light coming from the doorway. Even though the door was shut, light still managed to escape from the creases.
Knocking gently, Bulma waited for an answer. ‘Oh what is he doing up?’ She thought with a smile as she planned the scolding she would give her time-traveling son. It was her job now to take care of him and she’d be damned if he slipped through the cracks again. When silence greeted her she opened the door a crack. Peeking through she glanced around the room waiting for Mirai to jump on a table like a 50’s sitcom woman who had just seen a mouse. There was no jumping, or screaming for that matter. The room was completely vacant of all life. And this Royally pissed Bulma off.
Since his return, Mirai was on a strict curfew until he was clean. He could only leave the grounds if someone was with him. The only place he could go by himself was to group therapy. Addictions are embarrassing enough, but having people follow you there and back would certainly harm more than it would help. But now Mirai needed to be reminded of the impending doom his father threatened to unleash upon him if he ever harmed himself again. And Mirai needed to be reminded of this fact.
***
The air felt heavenly as it whipped around his intoxicated body. Mirai had a lot of practice flying completely out of his mind. Turning and crouching to almost a sitting position, he put his back to the wind giving him enough calm in the sky to light his cigarette before returning on his way.
Today had been a particularly bad day at the problem fest. It was time to share about how everyone got to the state they were in. ‘What was I going to say?’ Mirai thought flying a little crooked towards home. ‘My family and friends were screwed up from dieing and a grave holocaust in another time that they treated me like dirt.’ “They’d put me in a nuthouse!” Mirai laughed out loud to himself justifying his actions. More likely it was the amount of time that had passed. Mirai was starting to go through withdrawals. And the lack of self esteem helped to fuel the fire of his ever more lacking self control. So a few borrowed dollars from his mothers’ purse, a few CC’s and a half a pack later Mirai was flying high; figuratively and physically.
It was however, a little rude to just get up and leave in the middle of ‘share time’ but the Demi had just about enough of human petty emotion to last him a lifetime. So, the other wonderful aspect of NA was that there was always someone there who knew a friend. And Mirai needed a friend. How he was going to explain his tardiness to his ever loving mother or hide the marks from his over scrutinizing father never crossed his mind, even as he landed on the balcony to his room where the lights were now turned off.
“Mmm…tired.” Mirai mumbled to himself collapsing onto the soft and inviting bed. What he missed in his ‘off’ state was the Sayjin prince lurking in the corner of the room with the ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed face on.’ Bulma had not so nicely woken him up to reveal the Demi’s absence and Vegeta was sure Mirai would only see the mad face in the morning.
**
::Mirai:: I thought we got rid of her?
::Vegeta:: I can’t believe she got out of that bag…
::Goku:: Well I am happy to see her.
::Vegeta:: And the trunk…
::Mirai:: You suck-up.
::Vegeta:: And the Bay.
::BlueKi:: ::dripping wet holding a large duffle bag and a car jack:: I’m Back!!!!
The room was the stereotypical ‘you have a problem’ kind of place. There were chairs arranged in a circle, posters on the walls of every known minority that had ever beaten an addiction, and the smell of disgusting coffee lingering in the air. Oh yes, this was hell in a hand basket for poor Mirai. This was defiantly his mothers’ idea. She had been kind enough to let him stay at Capsule Corp, so the least he could do is sit here with the recovering drug addicts and pray that 9 o’clock came soon.
‘Oh just kill me now’ Mirai thought as he stared at the middle-aged woman walking through the door. Her long green skirt just barely touched the floor and her clean white iron blouse hung slightly over her hips.
“Hello everyone,” she said in a sickly sweet voice. “Welcome to narcotics anonymous.”
***
Closing the door to her lab, Bulma walked out into the hallway. Yawning loudly she made her way to the staircase fully prepared for bed. It was well into the wee hours of the morning and the blue haired scientists wanted nothing more than to pass out next to the psychotic prince she called a husband. Bulma stopped as she passed by a particular room on the top floor of Capsule Corp. The room in question now belonged to Mirai. What made her stop was the amount of light coming from the doorway. Even though the door was shut, light still managed to escape from the creases.
Knocking gently, Bulma waited for an answer. ‘Oh what is he doing up?’ She thought with a smile as she planned the scolding she would give her time-traveling son. It was her job now to take care of him and she’d be damned if he slipped through the cracks again. When silence greeted her she opened the door a crack. Peeking through she glanced around the room waiting for Mirai to jump on a table like a 50’s sitcom woman who had just seen a mouse. There was no jumping, or screaming for that matter. The room was completely vacant of all life. And this Royally pissed Bulma off.
Since his return, Mirai was on a strict curfew until he was clean. He could only leave the grounds if someone was with him. The only place he could go by himself was to group therapy. Addictions are embarrassing enough, but having people follow you there and back would certainly harm more than it would help. But now Mirai needed to be reminded of the impending doom his father threatened to unleash upon him if he ever harmed himself again. And Mirai needed to be reminded of this fact.
***
The air felt heavenly as it whipped around his intoxicated body. Mirai had a lot of practice flying completely out of his mind. Turning and crouching to almost a sitting position, he put his back to the wind giving him enough calm in the sky to light his cigarette before returning on his way.
Today had been a particularly bad day at the problem fest. It was time to share about how everyone got to the state they were in. ‘What was I going to say?’ Mirai thought flying a little crooked towards home. ‘My family and friends were screwed up from dieing and a grave holocaust in another time that they treated me like dirt.’ “They’d put me in a nuthouse!” Mirai laughed out loud to himself justifying his actions. More likely it was the amount of time that had passed. Mirai was starting to go through withdrawals. And the lack of self esteem helped to fuel the fire of his ever more lacking self control. So a few borrowed dollars from his mothers’ purse, a few CC’s and a half a pack later Mirai was flying high; figuratively and physically.
It was however, a little rude to just get up and leave in the middle of ‘share time’ but the Demi had just about enough of human petty emotion to last him a lifetime. So, the other wonderful aspect of NA was that there was always someone there who knew a friend. And Mirai needed a friend. How he was going to explain his tardiness to his ever loving mother or hide the marks from his over scrutinizing father never crossed his mind, even as he landed on the balcony to his room where the lights were now turned off.
“Mmm…tired.” Mirai mumbled to himself collapsing onto the soft and inviting bed. What he missed in his ‘off’ state was the Sayjin prince lurking in the corner of the room with the ‘I’m not mad, I’m disappointed face on.’ Bulma had not so nicely woken him up to reveal the Demi’s absence and Vegeta was sure Mirai would only see the mad face in the morning.
**
::Mirai:: I thought we got rid of her?
::Vegeta:: I can’t believe she got out of that bag…
::Goku:: Well I am happy to see her.
::Vegeta:: And the trunk…
::Mirai:: You suck-up.
::Vegeta:: And the Bay.
::BlueKi:: ::dripping wet holding a large duffle bag and a car jack:: I’m Back!!!!