Phantom
by Freya     More by this Writer
Gohan feels lost and depressed now his father is gone. Mirai gets sent back to the past by Bulma who decides his home is there now.

Author’s Notes: Mirai Trunks- Age 22, hair- still shoulder length but in a pony tail. Comes from year 788 A.D.

Teen Gohan-Age 14, hair- long (think of the way his hair looked when he was a chibi and add it to how his face looks as a teenager.) Comes from year 768 A.D.

Song Used: Mr. Lif. – Phantom

Check it out
I been waitin’, playin’, for a long time
X amount of thoughts carried out in my mind

***

Days carried on like centuries for the young Son teen. Two years. Two long vacant years he was trapped in his bedroom with his studies. School work was all he did anymore. Pushing the extent of his already ignorant proff intellect was all he could ever find any meanig in. Ever since the death of Son Goku, Gohan had never trained, not once. He couldn’t. That was a sport that he and his father held sacred. Days were now perpetual, and time seemed to hinder in the air. If night fell, Gohan wouldn’t know it. He just never cared anymore. The one parent he had left ordered him to study, and that’s exactly what he was abliged to do. Though, his soul couldn’t help but feel lost, empty, meaningless. Had he only listened to his father and taken down Cell right away like he could’ve. Then, Son Goku would surely be alive. But, he wasn’t. And the boy dared not to disobey his only living parent, not on his life. If only, he kept thinking to himself. If only.

***

If only time in the future could’ve been fixed. On his return to his appointed timeline, Trunks couldn’t help but feel disappointed that absolutly nothing had changed. Everything was still in crumbles and ashes, and he could not detect the lifeforce of his best friend Gohan. He failed. Once again, the boy failed miserably to complete a task.

“Mom, are you here?” Trunks called out half hoping to recieve and answer, seeing as he was worried about her, yet he didn’t want Bulma to be ashamed of him. In about ten seconds flat, his mother appered from the kitchen to greet her much missed son. They walked over to one another and enravled themselves in a loving embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re alright.” She whispered to him. “The androids are gone.” She pulled off of him and smiled. “They just vanished into thin air.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He stared down to the floor in disappointment. “None of the others came back though. I may have saved the survivers from the androids, but I’ve failed to fix this timeline completely.”

“Trunks.” The middle aged woman didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t possibly allow her son to believe that this was his failer. This was all her idea. “Are the people back in the past.. are they all dead?” The boy shook his head no. “Well, you put one dimension into peace.” She cupped his check with her hand and gave him a kiss. “See sweety, you didn’t fail. Too much damage has been done here anyway. Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a hero.”

Trunks smiled. “I guess you’re right mom. That makes me feel much better.” He thought back to the past timeline. Thought of everybody there. But then, a frown spread across his face. Bulma raised her brows in question. “Goku-san, didn’t survive. Everybody else did though. Even father.” He smiled slightly at the thought of his father. “Father and I, we bonded in a way. Gohan told me how upset he was when…” he couldn’t say anymore. The thought of how his mom would react if she knew he’d died during that battle. So quickly, he changed the subject and threw off his jacket. “So, what’s for dinner mom?”

She snorted. “Oh, you Saiyajins and your appitites.” He just gave a huge toothy laugh and rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “We’re having cooked rice and baked chicken okay.”

“Haha yes. My favorite.” Trunks’ mood all changed as he thought of food. Bulma figured that Goku’s influence must’ve sunk into him. And yet, the sort of fire that blazes through his eyes now when he’s upset or lost in thought. `So much like his father.’ Bulma though to herself.

***

I turn on the TV, I see crime
Script written diligently and aired on time
Push the power button, now I’m to the tower somethin

`Lets see. 76x-267y+54x+4(21y-56)=34′ Gohan sat at his work desk doing what he thought was an extremly easy algebra equation. Yet, he wondered. If it was so easy before, what was he breaking a sweat and chewing on his pencil now for? `Come on Gohan, you knew how to do algebra like this since you were in the fifth grade.’ Well, it wasn’t really that the problem was hard to answer, it was that he was just sick of doing them. `There has to be more to life then this.’ “Ahhh, I CAN’T STAND THIS.” Enraged Gohan slamed all of his text books into the wall and with great force, pushed all the work papers from his work desk. His energy started to spark, and all of his work circled around him like a cyclone of white blades. His eyes sparked into a brilliant teal and hair melted into a massive golden flare, just as it had the time he’d defeated Cell.

“What’s going on in here?” Chichi flung the door open, which wasn’t a good idea seeing as the circle of energy the teenage boy was creating ripped the door right out of the wall. His disposition was seldom joyous and his sanity was surrendered to the darkness that had been eatting at his soul since the death of his father. All he wanted to do is let out all of the blind rage he held toward everything and nothing. The housewife just stared in astonishment as her son, her’s and Son Goku’s own little boy produced indefinite amounts of energy with his petite five foot nothing hundred and ten pound body. His bedroom window shattered into peices. The shards of the glass flew in all differant directions. One in particular glided it’s merry way right across his left cheak, causing blood flow. The crimson drips reawaked him from the short lasting coma his sanity supplicated. His fathomless golden blaze shot back into thick spikes of souless dark that grew downward to match his forlorn polls that dripped burning tears.

As the storm in his soul died down, so did his pride as a teenager. He needed to know. Did his mother love him the way she always told him she did? Was every little study he had to do only for her benifit. So… so she could be better then Bulma. Chichi’d always been jealous of the blue haired genius. Her looks, her intelligance, her way with people. Vegeta always seemed enthralled by the woman. Indeed he was most loyal to her and their son. And to think, Bulma could get a man whose past was jumping planet to planet completely obliterating their people, to live a somewhat normal family life. He was even well aware of what marriage and consumation had ment, and did it with great ease. Whereas Chichi couldn’t make the man she loved do anything. He was, just plan impossible. And now, Bulma had a son with genetic intelligance. So far Gohan was still smarter chibi Trunks, seeing as he’d only just gotten into kindergarden. But still, a two year old kid in kindergarden was extremly impressive. Gohan was still learning how to talk at that age. But Chichi figured, `Try getting your slutty sex crazied ass to make you’re son a senior in highschool by age forteen.’

***

After Trunks had his ample amount of dinner, he was up in his room sulking. Seeing the chibi form of his long passed friend, it was just too painful to stay strong. With leakage from those deep ocean like eyes breaking loose, he stared at the only picture of him and Gohan he had. Kami did he love that man. But, as more then friendship. Though, it took until the day of his death for him to realize the intense passion that electrified throughout his entire body for his mentor. The feel of ten thousands volts of lightening struck through his soul. The energy that zapped, burned, and impaled through his heart so merely flipped a switch within him, causing the super Saiyajin in him to be born.

You were everything to me, Gohan…. everything.

He’d never forget those words. Gohan had ment everything to him. Even when being twenty-four years old and having a thirteen year old as your best friend. Though, generation gaps ment nothing really in that timeline, they did before the androids bombardment. Unlike Trunks, Gohan’d seen those days. When things were in peace, and when eighty percent of the earth’s population was still intact and lives were repairable. Even now, he saved the people from twenty years in the past, but what about now? All that work and still no Gohan.

Why’d you have to leave me?

Finally sunset purple hair was all that was seen of his head. He’d buried his face completely within the pillow, sobbing and thrashing. His mother’d always told him that losing someone you love hurts horribly. She too was probably suffering from the failer to bring the only man she loved back. It was her last chance too. The only other way she’d be able to get Vegeta back, is to pry year 768 Vegeta off of the younger more attractive Bulma. Which was not going to happen. And yet, had Trunks a chance with the Gohan, whom was instead was eight years younger rather than eleven years older. How would either of their families approve? And yet, Gohan in this timeline’d givin him a chance, even if it wasn’t a mutual hook up of any sorts. It was only in his duty to make it up to his dearly beloved friend to take good care of his chibi self.

“Trunks, are you okay sweety?” Bulma entered the room to see Trunks wiping at his eyes. She looked at him worried. His eyes were like huge puffs of irritation, and on the inside was like straberry milk with blue cats eye marbles floating in them. His entire body was shaking. “It’ll be okay baby.” She sat beside him and wrapped her arms around him. “Mommy’ll make it alright.” God, she said that as if the boy were five years old. He felt like he was five though. He was scared for the Gohan in the other timeline. Scared that he wouldn’t be alright. And seeing as, not only is that particular little boy in a whole nother time line, he was in another dimension. He now knew it was impossible to change your past. Even if it changes for others, it never changes for you. You can only look to the future. He needed his future to be with Gohan, not matter how. He needed it. Once you find true love there is no other. And Trunks would fight for him, not matter the age, no matter the sircumstance. Gohan was Gohan.

***

Opened up my fridge and found nothin
Tipped to my room with an aura of gloom
Wishin’ I could write another tune

“Huh, what happend?” Gohan awakend slowly with a pounding headache. He was inside of his mother’s bed, with his mother sitting to the side of it.

“You put on quite an episode in your room there sweet heart. What came over you?” Chichi asked, half worried half angry. Gohan didn’t look at her. He didn’t know the answer to that himself. Hormones maybe. He really couldn’t give a quarter worth a damn, no matter what trigger the Saiyajin in him pulled. The poor kid just felt so… lost, and alone. As if nobody on the planet cared about him. As if he were no more then an ant, and everybody else were the feet trying to step on him. It hurt. The feeling of lonlyness was insurmountable within him. He was scared his little outburst would take his mother away from him. She was all he had left, and yet, all her focus seemed to be on Goten. His own little brother of one. They had eachother. And Gohan was just a third wheel.

Then, for a brief moment, he wondered if himself from the future had Goten. And, if he did, was Goten still alive? He’d never know. He’d never see Mirai again to ask him. He almost wished Trunks wouldn’t have gone back to the future. Then maybe, just maybe they could be best friends the way they were in the future timeline. Fat chance. Gohan didn’t have any friends. He was the nerd boy in school, the ignored boy at home, and probably the biggest disappointment to Saiyajins there ever was. He dared not ever face Vegeta, Goten, or Trunks. Everytime his mom went to Capsule Corp. he’d stay behind with his studies. He was scared. Scared to face Vegeta, scared to face anybody. Without Goku he was nothing… nothing.

***

“Nothing you say is going to convince me to let you stay, you’re going.”

“But mom, what about you?” said Trunks slipping his famous blue fiber jacket with the CC symble on it. “You’ll be all alone.”

“Trunks.” She lead him to the time machine. “Your home is with the people in that timeline who know and love you very much.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You need to be with Vegeta and Gohan. it’ll be good for you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Look.” She dabbed tears off her eyes with the fabric from her shirt. “I know it’s hard for me to say goodbye to my little boy, but… little boys.” She sobs a couple of times. “they don’t stay little forever. I have to let you go now. Get to know your father a little more.” Smiles. “And don’t forget about Gohan. I’m sure you miss him the most.”

From inside the time machine, he gave his mom a warm smile. “I promise I’ll be over to visit you. I love you mom.” With that said and done, the time machine submerged within the outer dimensional barriers of space and time. As he was surrounded by a mixture of blue and violet swivles, zig zags, and stuff, he finally came across a light. He was now in the year 768 A.D. and was there to stay. Only question was, were do I make myself at home.

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