Vegeta sat quietly in his room, which had unsurprisingly looked the same as when he left. The floor and walls still stained with crimson, items still spewn about the ground, among a few other details that he was too tired to really care about. Or, too deep in thought, really.
He had only just got back about twenty minutes ago, and he had been sitting in his room staring blankly out into space for about just as long. Him and Goku had given each other a simple goodbye, then went their separate ways, which left Vegeta alone with his thoughts - and that was usually a bad thing. However, this time seemed different; his thoughts seemed strangely...good.
The day hadn't gone as expected: he had spent almost the entire day with Goku at that field, and even with the occasional awkward moment it was a rather pleasant experience. And he was struggling to come to terms with the idea that he enjoyed spending time together with the naive warrior, even if it was just a few hours. Goku had made him feel accepted, like he truly had a reason to look at the bright side of things - of course, though, he had convinced himself that the opposite was true, which was a natural reaction for him a this point.
The prince shook his head as a way to try and get rid of those thoughts, pushing them aside as he focused on something else, only to land on a worse topic: that fight between him and Bulma. From what he had been told that fight had gotten pretty bad, and he expected the blue-haired woman to hold a grudge against him for it, but she wasn't his main concern now. That title went to his son, Trunks.
He was informed earlier in the field that Trunks had tried to stop the fight and he had knocked the boy away with no hesitation, and he surprisingly felt guilt for that. It was uncommon for Vegeta to feel bad for hurting anyone, even his own offspring, so for that emotion to appear now was strange to him. It was almost like he was changing in some way, and he wasn't exactly ready to accept that idea yet - but the prince figured he could at least try to make a start at that.
Vegeta sat thinking for a moment more before he forced himself to carefully scoot to the edge of his bed and stand, looking around one last time as he slowly made his way over to the door. Stepping over a few items that had toppled over onto the floor, he opened the door and took a few steps out into the bright hallway, blinking a couple times to adjust to the new light - as his room was unsurprisingly dark, which was obviously caused by the fact that the main light source in his room was now shattered.
After a moment he turned to slowly walk down the hallway, his eyes skimming over the pictures and paintings hung on one wall before shifting over the stare out the window at the ever so slowly setting sun. Had that much time really passed? And, more importantly, how long had he just spaced out for? He could have sworn that it was still light out when he got home, and now it was already switching over to night.
His gaze shifted slightly, still staring out the window though not focusing on the world outside. Instead, his eyes focused on his own barely visible reflection, frowning slightly as he looked back at himself. He looked tired and sad, sickly even: dark bags under his eyes, which were slightly bloodshot and cold - like that once everlasting life was just fading away from him. Bruises littered his arms mainly around his shoulders and elbows, but the lower he looked on his arms the more disgusted he felt; though neatly wrapped in a fresh set of bandaging he could still see the mess of slices and cuts that he was now forced to shamefully wear on his sleeve through the gauze. His clothing was stained red with his own blood, and torn in places no doubt from past times of suicidal actions.
He shook his head and chuckled sadly, looking down for a moment before dragging his eyes back up to his sickening reflection. A mess. That was what he was: a mess. And his current appearance portrayed that oh-so perfectly - any fool could see that with a simple glance at him.
Vegeta sighed and left the window, turning away with one last glance as he took a few more seconds to stare at himself before he shook his head once again and quickly stepped away. Continuing on his way down the hall, slowing down as he thought. How had he not noticed that this much time had passed, had he just been that lost in his thoughts?
It didn't make sense to him. He was normally so observant with his surroundings and the time, especially now with him having nothing better to do than to sit around and watch the clock as it slowly ticked away, so why now had that changed? Why now was he losing track of things that were so simple to remember and take note of? And why was he suddenly obsessing over knowing if it was day or night?
The broken warrior cursed to himself as he forced his mind to somewhere else - somewhere not time related. He sped up a bit as he walked, not wanting to think about much of anything anymore and just wanting to get to his destination and move on with his night, which would most likely consist of him sitting in his room on his bed contemplating whether to try and not rip off the bandages and reopen the cuts or to willingly give into that subconscious desire.
He soon halted and pulled as much of a smile as he could, arriving at his goal: Trunks's room. He sighed softly as he hesitated; lifting his hand to knock on the door before stopping himself. Was this the right thing to do? would the boy even believe him? Despite his own arguing thoughts, he carefully tapped his knuckles against the cold door, trying to keep that small smile for as long as he could.
"Trunks..?" Vegeta called out, having been standing there waiting for at least a minute. He was nervous, that was obvious just from his voice, though he didn't entirely know why. He was only talking to his son, so why was he so worried? "It's me, your father, Vegeta.."
The door creaked open as the boy in question stepped forward, giving a rather blank yet nervous expression. "Yeah?" Was all he said, his tone matching that look he gave the prince; though he it was clear he wasn't trying to be cold towards his father.
"I, uh, just wanted to see how you were doing." Vegeta said quietly, giving a slight smile as he gave a stiff- clearly awkward wave.
He was going to say more before Trunks interrupted him with a quick 'I'm fine' then moving to try and close the door, to which Vegeta gently stopped; "Trunks wait. Listen, I wanted to apologize- you know, for the fight and everything- what I did was wrong, and it shouldn't have happened, and especially not to you." He panicked, shaking his head and frowning as he spoke almost pleadingly - it was like he was desperate for his son's forgiveness.
They were both quite for a moment more, just standing quietly, before the prince slowly let go of the door and took a step back. Trunks only sighed, opening the door slightly as he looked up at his once so prideful father. "I'm not mad at you, if that's what you're worried about." The boy stated simply, shaking his head as he looked away from Vegeta.
The prince jumped a little at the words. He hadn't expected that- he didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't that. "Oh, I..I thought you would have been upset with me." He mumbled, letting out a quiet awkward chuckle as that same silence commenced.
"Sure, it was terrifying, but I understand why it happened. So I'm not really mad." Trunks shrugged, then glanced back at his room before facing his father. "Hey, can I, uh, go back to getting ready for bed..?"
"Oh, of course," Vegeta smiled - which was a rare sight when it was genuine, though it had occurred more and more recently. "Sorry to interrupt, you can go back to whatever it is you were doing."
With that, and a last statement from Trunks - which was simply "Which was getting ready for bed." - as he turned and closed the door, Vegeta stood there for a moment more before he promptly began to walk away. Making his way back down the halls, he started to think again: that was the first time he had spoken to the boy since that fight, which meant that it had been at least a few days - from what he could remember, of course. Keeping track of time was one thing, but days was a completely different thing.
He hadn't expected Trunks to just forgive him like that, and he thought that the boy would just push him away once the words 'I'm sorry' were uttered. Now he was faced with a entirely different outcome, and he didn't know exactly what to feel at that moment. Though there was definitely a feeling, he just couldn't tell what it was. It was like a warm feeling, something that was light and fluffy in a way - like seeing a puppy, or receiving a gift. It was one of those feelings that just made him want to smile, even if only for a second. But what was that called?
The thought plagued his mind for sometime, though he just couldn't find what that emotion was labeled as - and even if he did, by that time it would have been gone. So he settled with not knowing and just being left in the dark on that subject, as he would most likely find out later anyway, so that train of thoughts was pushed to the side as a new one took it's place.
He soon came to a stop, looking up from the ground as he now stood still. He wasn't so nervous anymore. He knew what he needed to do, and even if it didn't work he still would have gotten it done, and that was all that mattered now. This was it. The moment he hadn't even been planning on happening until he spoke with Trunks.
...Now all he needed to do was apologize to Bulma...
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Hey, sorry this one took so long. I've been a bit stressed the past few days, so writing sad things hasn't really been on my agenda - though this did help a little, surprisingly.
But, I did have a question - and feel free to not answer if you don't want to, though this is completely up to you guys and gals(or whatever you may identify as) - do we want one more fluff chapter before we move to the next story leading to the big sad, or do we want to skip right up to the next story leading to the big sad?
YOU ARE READING
𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓴𝓮𝓷 𝓢𝓸𝓾𝓵 (//SLOW UPDATES//)
Hayran Kurgu...What happens when he loses it...? What happens when his mental control withers away and finally snaps...? What happens when his confidence finally comes to a painful end...? Find out when you read Broken Soul! ( Ya know, if you want...) Okay so...
