Welcome to Boxer & Rice

A man stood next to a casket, holding his young son in his arms. His fingertips traced along the cold, smooth face of the recently deceased woman. A lone teardrop splashed onto the pale blue dress she would forever wear.

“Daddy, when’s mommy gonna wake up?” the four-year-old boy asked.

The man turned his head to his son, tears glistening in his eyes. A weak smile appeared on his face, as he reached up to cup his son’s face in his hand, pulling him forward to kiss him lightly on the forehead.

“Mommy will…never wake up, son.”

***

Gohan stared at the front door, a worried expression on his face. He bit his bottom lip and tapped his left foot on the wooden planks of the floor. He checked his watch for the twelfth time in the past five minutes.

“Dad…where are you?” he muttered.

His younger brother ran up to him and wrapped his arms around his leg, a smile gracing his cherubic face. His grin faded, though, when he saw the frown on his brother’s.

“Gohan? What’s wrong?”

Gohan sighed. “Dad’s not back yet. I’m really starting to worry. I can feel his ki and all, but…hey, Goten, shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s way past your bedtime.”

Goten pouted. “But I wanna stay up with you.”

Gohan bent down to Goten’s eye level. “Sorry, kid. You know how mom gets when…”

The two raven-haired boys flinched at the mention of their dead mother. Goten sniffed, wiped at his eyes and nodded, walking down the hallway to his room. Gohan sighed again and leaned against the wall, letting himself slide down until he touched the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head between them. His shoulders shook with each sob. Each cry signaled the fall of one more tear.

‘Three years…’ Gohan thought to himself. ‘It’s been three years. Why can’t I just…’

The turn of the doorknob jolted the teen away from his thoughts. His head snapped up at the sound of the door slowly creaking open. He instinctively tensed, but relaxed slightly when he realized to whom the ki belonged.

‘Dad! But…his ki…is different…oh no…not again…’

Goku walked through the doorway, his hand immediately reaching out for the wall, or any object nearby, to steady himself. His head was low, his breathing ragged.

Gohan stood cautiously, ever wary of his father in his present state. He moved not an inch, waiting for the other to make the first move.

The older man raised his head, the light of the lamp illuminating his face. As Gohan stared into his father’s eyes, he noted the fully dilated pupils. He backed a step, pressing against the wall behind him.

Goku walked up to his son, his gait clearly unstable. He planted his hand firmly on the wall above Gohan’s shoulder and leaned his forehead against his. An odd smile crept its way across his lips.

“Heya, son,” he slurred, alcohol tainting his breath.

Gohan bit his lip, trying not to scrunch his nose against the toxic scent. He shivered as Goku reached up with his free hand to run his fingers across his son’s skin in a near caress. His fingertips brushed against the smooth flesh of his jawbone and chin, down to the nape of his neck, and stopping at the center of his broad chest. Gohan swallowed hard as Goku looked him over, his drunken eyes filling with hunger.

An intoxicated laugh escaped his father’s throat. Soon after, Gohan’s lips were abused with a bruising kiss as his father harshly pressed his lips to his. The teen’s muffled cry never reached his father’s ears. He only took note of his son’s open mouth to push his tongue through, roughly exploring the warm cavern.

Goku’s hands wandered down to his son’s hips, encircling them to pull him into an embrace. Gohan gasped as his body was crushed to his father’s. He squirmed within his grip, each move bumping him against Goku’s obvious arousal. A groan escaped his father’s lips, and he removed his mouth from Gohan’s, deciding to nibble his flesh instead. Each nip left his skin red and burning with pain.

“Dad…please…stop…” Gohan pleaded, brokenly.

A tear streaked down Gohan’s face as Goku lifted his eyes to meet his. He said nothing, just raised his hand and let it connect with Gohan’s cheek. The eighteen-year-old boy fell to the floor as his father continued to abuse him, his drunken rage fueling his power. Goku watched with a satisfied smirk as his son writhed, screaming in agony.

The pain from each blow seemed to run together as the seconds ticked by. Gohan hardly took notice when the beatings ceased. He slowly opened his eyes and searched the room from his place on the floor. His father lay sprawled on the floorboards not too far away, having fallen unconscious from the liquor he had consumed.

The ebony-eyed boy rose to his feet, wincing as each muscle cried out in protest. He leaned against the wall and coughed, blood splattering onto the polished wood of the floor. His eyes stared at the blood, his oxygen-starved lungs desperately trying to refill themselves.

As Gohan regained control of himself once more, he slowly crept forward to the door. He reached for the doorknob and pulled, quietly padding out the door. He hovered in the air above his house for a few moments, the simple act of lifting himself off the ground seeming to have taken all his strength.

Gohan floated lazily through the air, not sure where to go. He considered going to Videl’s house, but how would he explain the bruises? He scanned through other possibilities, halting in mid-flight as one person came to his mind.

‘Trunks…’

A smile appeared on his face as he pictured his crush from the future asleep in his bed, his long lavender hair falling to caress his face, his full lips parted as he steadily breathed. Gohan’s eyes closed as he envisioned himself gathered in his angel’s arms, his head against his chest, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat.

Gohan looked down to see how far he was from Capsule Corporation, and realized he was already there, his heart having led him even when his mind was indecisive. The teen dropped to the ground and lowered his ki, not wanting to alert anyone of his presence.

He walked around the dome-shaped building to where Mirai Trunks’ room was located. Not wanting to reveal himself just yet, he climbed the tree that hung close to Trunks’ balcony. As he carefully crawled along one of the branches, his ears caught the faint sound of wood cracking. He ignored it and kept crawling, figuring he could make it before…

SNAP!

…the branch broke.