Trust
by Arigatomina     More by this Writer
Mirai Gohan dies, killed by the androids. Now Mirai Trunks must learn to survive without him.

I guess this is kind of a partial songfic, since I used lyrics from a few songs.
Songs Used: Staind – Been A While, Linkin Park – In the End, and Goo-goo Dolls – Iris.
Graphic Violence Deathfic Abusive



Chapter 01
Time is a valuable thing,
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings,
Watch it count down to the end of the day,
The clock ticks life away.

Stars shattered the darkness, a moon sending pale glory over the hill but not touching the valley below. The light sparkled on the tips of pale hair, bright eyes directed at the young man whose voice was a steady, soft breath.

“We didn’t even know they were together,” Gohan murmured, smiling as he glanced at Trunks’s rapt expression. “I remember wondering why she looked so smug and proud. We were surprised to see Vegeta with her but he went wherever he wanted so I thought maybe he was looking to pick a fight. Then my dad asked about the baby and I saw you. I thought it was Yamcha’s kid at first. When she said Vegeta was the father, my dad fell over.” The boy laughed beside him and Gohan nodded. “Vegeta was just smirking at him and dad bent over you, poking at that little hat. Then your mom took it off and I remember asking what was wrong with your hair.”

“Because you look like your dad.”

Gohan gave another nod, rubbing his left shoulder absentmindedly as a dull ache set up. “My mom says I’m just as tall as he was, now.” Silence crept in and he glanced down to where his sleeve was folded, looking where his arm had hung. So many years had passed since then but his mom liked to remember when they were all together. His eyes lifted to Trunks and he gave a slight smile, drawing the boy’s attention away from his missing arm. “You do look a little like Vegeta though, when you’re training.”

“I’ll be stronger than he was,” Trunks said, eyes solemn.

“Definitely, you may even pass me up someday.” The boy gave him a doubtful look and Gohan smirked, glancing back to the valley. “My dad once told me that Vegeta’s mission in life was to defeat him. They had a…complicated relationship.”

There was a city below them but Gohan could see no lights; no signs of life that would have sparkled at them ten years ago. Things were so different now, as if his childhood had been spent in another world but Trunks had grown up here – this was the only way he’d ever known. He didn’t remember the days when people lived without fear of constant attack. Gohan often wondered if it wasn’t better that way. If he didn’t have his memories, he wouldn’t be able to compare the differences. Trunks was luckier, young enough not to understand exactly how much better things had been. His hand pressed the burning spot on his shoulder again and he wondered if there were any chance of those days coming back.

Remembering all the times you fought with me,
I’m surprised it got so far…

Sometimes his confidence left him and he was certain his resistance was futile. Quiet nights like this were journeys to the past; he felt a wave of peace, immersed in nature. His eyes turned to the boy beside him and he blinked at Trunks’s bright blue eyes. They were sitting in the grass and the teen barely reached his shoulder, his head tilted back a bit as he looked at him. Gohan’s shoulders tensed as he looked at the boy’s young face. He was unmarked somehow. It made him think that he should have started training the youth sooner but he hadn’t been able to do it; he’d stood aside while Bulma sheltered him as well as she could. Now the boy trained beside him, trying so hard as if he had no concept of the youth he embodied but there was something hiding behind those eyes now and he wondered about that look. Was it just the moonlight that made them sparkle that way?

You were my best friend

Trunks blinked when a hand ruffled his lavender hair, his cheeks warming just a bit. That playful gesture embarrassed him and he scowled at Gohan, glancing away when the young man put an arm around his shoulders. He used to like it when Gohan teased him but it made him uncomfortable now and he took solace in the companionship of the arm around him. He’d trained so hard earlier, merely pushing his limits but he thought he was improving. He had to improve. If he was strong enough then Gohan would be proud. He wanted that, so badly.

It’s true the way I feel,
What’s promised by your face.

“I’ve rested enough.”

The boy ducked from under his arm and Gohan’s hand closed over the empty space. He could see the eagerness in those pale blue eyes. It wasn’t just pride that moved Trunks; that made the boy so eager to please. The boy was watching him and he thought again of the sparkle he’d seen before, dropping his gaze. He was ashamed to feel it, that slight hint of attraction, no matter how close the boy was to him. They were brothers in pain and Trunks was too innocent to even know what he sometimes wanted from him.

Keep that in mind,
I resign this right to explain in due time.

Maybe if things had been different, he might have thrown caution to the wind. There was still a chance, someday in the future, when Trunks was an adult and old enough to know what he was asking. Maybe then he would say something but he doubted it. Trunks looked up to him, as if he were more than a companion; he was his guardian, his master. He could never break that trust, certainly not with something so base. It wasn’t right to want him like that.

And I’d give up forever to touch you.

The boy sighed, glancing away to the darkness below, his pale eyes so lovely but filled with a deep sadness. He wanted to wrap his arm around the slight form, just to be there with him; just one soft kiss to show how much he cared but he knew better. If he ever touched him like that he wouldn’t be able to stop.

Temptation heeds,
beats like a drum.
Deep in your face,
I will not love!

The boy glanced back at him and Gohan’s muscles tightened at the smile. Feelings be damned, he would not give in. His expression hardened as he stood and he frowned as if he truly were nothing but a master about to train an apprentice. “If you’re done resting, then get started,” he said roughly, his anger tainting the cruel words. “You need to get stronger.”

You point the finger at me again…

For a second – one brief moment – Trunks was certain he’d seen something but the callous words couldn’t be ignored; they hurt, reminding him of how weak he still was. He would get stronger. Then, maybe it would be different. If they could get rid of the androids, there’d be no reason to fight anymore. Maybe then he’d have a chance for Gohan to know him better, to realize he wasn’t a child anymore. He’d never felt less like a child than he did at that moment.

I’ve put my trust
In you…
Pushed as far as I can go.
For all this,
There’s only one thing you should know…

He hit his knees hard, soft, damp grass seeping through his pants and Trunks let his head hang as his breath tossed the fine hairs away from his face. He could feel Gohan’s gaze on him, could imagine the disappointment in those dark eyes but he was so tired, worn from the effort. He relied on Gohan but that wasn’t what he wanted. He longed to fight beside him, to walk beside him, not have to be protected as useless but it was never enough, no matter how hard he pushed himself he couldn’t seem to reach that mark. Super saiyan, the mark of adulthood. He was certain if he could touch that, then Gohan would stop looking at him like a young brother who needed to be watched, scolded; taken care of.

I kept everything inside,
And even though I tried,
It all fell apart…

Gohan could see the frustration, bright eyes visible through pale hair. He wanted to grab the boy, to forbid him from ever training again. The thought of Trunks fighting the androids tore at him; even if he were there, it wasn’t enough. He could still feel the horrible pain he’d felt when Trunks had been knocked unconscious in that fateful battle. He never should have taken the boy with him, he knew that now. He’d nearly died himself, but something stopped him, something more powerful than his pride. It was the thought of what would happen if Trunks were alone and not strong enough. Gohan knew the androids left him alive because he was at least a challenging diversion. If Trunks couldn’t reach the same level, they would kill him the first time they fought. His hand curled into a fist and he glared, looking at the rock behind them as if it were a target he could take his anger out on. Something shifted, barely visible in the shadow of the boulder.

He’d seen those eyes in his dreams, cold and undefeatable. After a second, they met his and he could make out a smirk on the android’s face. Shards of shock stabbed him and he stared with a mixture of anger and fear. There was a drift of black hair as Seventeen disappeared. His instinct was to chase and Gohan stood, torn with the need for action. He hadn’t recovered yet; he was so far beneath his previous strength that a battle now would be his end. He wanted to chase, if only to know why the android had been there, how he had found them; why hadn’t he attacked when they were unable to feel his power. It hadn’t been looking at him; those dark-rimmed eyes had been focused on something beyond him. Turning, Gohan stared at the boy kneeling near the edge of the hill; that pale head bowed. There was no doubt in his mind and a blaze of icy fear and rage erupted at his uselessness.

You can feel my anger,
You can feel my pain,
You can feel my torment,
Driving me insane.

Furious, Gohan clenched his fist, fingers digging into skin. He knew why Seventeen had been looking at Trunks. It was the same thing he’d felt earlier, looking at the boy with his eyes and hair shining in the moonlight. He didn’t understand why the android hadn’t just attacked. It was good that it hadn’t, though, because he knew he didn’t have the strength to defeat them. He never had. They would fight him for a while until he was defeated, then leave him alive for the sport. Without him, they had no one to play with and he had given them another target. He was the one who’d brought Trunks with him to that last battle. They might never have even known about the boy if he hadn’t done that. He’d wanted Trunks to see the battle, to see the fight so he could remember and grow stronger and he had seen it, the same as Seventeen had obviously seen him. It was his fault.

“Gohan?”

The boy’s voice made his eyes flash and Gohan stared at Trunks for a second before realizing what he’d done. Without even thinking, his power level had risen with his anger. He didn’t want to tell the boy, so he turned, waiting until he could calm down.

I have as much rage as you have.
I have as much pain as you do.
I’ve lived as much hell as you have,
and I’ve kept mine bubbling under…
for you…

The saiyan was so angry and Trunks found his own hands curling, mimicking Gohan’s pose. He didn’t understand where the sudden fury had come from but more important was why the man wouldn’t share it with him. It was obvious to him that Gohan didn’t think he was old enough or capable enough to understand what he was going through. His own anger burned, directed not only at himself but at the man who’d presented him with his back. Gohan wouldn’t let him in. He’d lived his entire life in hiding; he’d seen the pain and the deaths, just like Gohan had. The only difference was that Gohan had the strength to fight against what was happening. Or was that the only thing? Staring at the man’s dark back, Trunks wondered if it was because Gohan had known his father and friends; he’d loved the people who died. Did that mean that his feelings weren’t as strong, because he hadn’t lost a loved one? His anger cooled too quickly and he dropped his eyes for a moment, his hands relaxing slowly. Gohan didn’t think he understood. He’d never tell him how much he DID understand because his feelings didn’t matter. Gohan had enough problems without hearing his.

You were my mentor.
You were my brother.
You were my partner.
You were my teacher.
You were my very own sympathetic character.

But it hurt, having that back to him. Even if things never changed between them, Trunks knew he could be satisfied so long as Gohan didn’t shut him out. Maybe the man would never let him in any further, but why would he suddenly push him away even more? He didn’t understand but he knew Gohan was the only one he had. He loved his mother but she could never come to grips with the drive he had; the burning in his blood. Gohan knew – he’d seen it for himself. He was everything to him. He was still kneeling, but he rose to his feet, expression solemn, hiding the hurt. “Gohan.”

But this is not allowed!
You’re uninvited

Gohan turned without thinking, stepping to the boy who looked so alone in the dark, those pale eyes haunted somehow. His hand rose to pull the boy close and he barely managed to stop himself. He paused a foot away, looking at that solemn expression. He couldn’t stand the look the boy was sending him. Trunks wasn’t asking for what he longed to give and he cooled himself slowly, managing a light smile for those aged eyes. “That’s enough training for today. You did fine, Trunks.”

You were my keeper.
You were my hanger.
You were my family.
You were my savior.
And there in lay the issue.
And there in lay the problem.

The man was acting normal again, taking care of him like usual, as if nothing had happened within those dark eyes. So, why did he feel worse than he had with that cold back to him? Following when Gohan walked from the spot, Trunks dropped his eyes to the dark grass. He wished he could just be satisfied with what he had. He didn’t even know when he’d realized something was missing between them. He didn’t like to be so confused.

Thou shalt not fear…
Love is with your brother.
Thou shalt not fear…

The night seemed to be filled with shadows and Gohan found his eyes locking on tiny wisps of movements that were nothing more than blades of grass. He could almost feel eyes on them but his anger was gone now. His eyes turned to Trunks as the boy walked beside him and he knew he wouldn’t let them touch the boy. He’d die before letting that happen. There would be no more games, no more letting them play with him; getting enjoyment from their battles. Trunks would never have to know. Someone like him wasn’t meant to know. The world needed people like him…



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