Intimate Knowledge
He could hear his heart pounding in his ears,
feel a strange, hollow tightness in his stomach. He didn’t move, his eyes wide
as he stared up toward the ceiling, the only sound in the room that of their
breathing, quieting now. He could feel Kakarrot’s chest rising and falling
against his, feel the heat and slickness between them. He could feel the other
Saiya-jin’s heart, its rapid beat gradually slowing, evening out into a steady
rhythm. His own heartbeat was still too rapid, his breathing too quick.
There was a long sigh, and then Goku slid off
him, removing his weight but then drawing Vejiita into his arms, his eyes
closing as he murmured the prince’s name. He was already drifting toward sleep,
his fingertips idly caressing Vejiita’s back as his breathing lengthened. For
long moments Vejiita stared at him in the darkness, the face he sought obscured
by shadows. He could feel sleep pulling at him too now, despite his shock,
against his wishes. Trying to fight it, he slowly lifted a hand and touched
Goku’s face. His fingertips ran over the bridge of the other Saiya-jin’s nose,
arched lightly over his cheekbones. Pushing the heavy black hair back, he
traced his eyebrows, an odd, ironic amazement filling him as an almost-bitter
smile twisted his lips. He had seen this face so often in his dreams... Hated
so often, feared so often... Who... Who ever would have thought it would come
to this. What a fool he was.
‘I love you...’
Again it filled him, that strange hollow
feeling, shock that couldn’t allow him to process such a statement, fearing
what it could mean and... refusing to believe it? He struggled feebly against
the encroaching darkness as his eyelids were dragged downward, heavy, his
relaxed body refusing to tighten up. No one... no one said that to him...
Kakarrot in love with him? Impossible...
He was warm. There was warmth all around him and
he sighed, rubbing his face against it. The faint scents of soap and fresh air
filled his nose, soothing and familiar. He felt himself smile and wondered at
it, the silly expression that must be on his face now. He didn’t smile like
this very often. But he couldn’t remember the last time he had been so
comfortable. He could feel the light softness of sheets against his bare skin,
their easy touch caressing him with every movement, and he arched, pressing
against the hard smoothness of the body beside him as he stretched. A contented
growl escaped his throat and he slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight
streaming down on the bed. Kakarrot’s scent filled every breath he took and he
shifted his gaze, eyes coming to rest on the other man’s face.
It appeared he was still asleep, his face
relaxed and his breathing even. Vejiita sat up suddenly, still staring down at
him. A flush burned his cheeks as his mind replayed the events of the night
before, touching on each moment, then away as if afraid to look at any too
closely. Sudden panic tightened his throat and he drew in a ragged breath, his
heart lurching. This was a situation he had never been in before, something he
had never had to face, and he didn’t know what to do, or what was expected of
him. He was being drawn into something he didn’t know if he would be able to
get out of.
Abruptly, he rose from the bed, throwing back
the covers and rising to his feet, his eyes still locked on Goku’s sleeping
form. The younger Saiya-jin groaned softly, twisting to lay on his back and
throwing an arm over his head.
Turning away jerkily, Vejiita stumbled into the bathroom
and turned on the water in the tub, stepping in and splashing it onto himself,
rinsing himself off quickly, his stomach lurching sickeningly as he scrubbed
his own semen from his body.
What have I done?
For a moment he sagged against the wall of the
bathtub, closing his eyes. What could he do now? He had opened himself and
exposed a terrible vulnerability. Inexcusable weakness. Again. With Kakarrot
of all people.
His lips twisted in disgust and he stood,
stepping out of the tub and quickly drying himself off. Naked, he quietly
returned to the bedroom, glancing around to find the clothing Kakarrot had
given him puddled on the floor by the wall. Fighting down a flush, he walked
over to them, picking up the sweatpants that were probably about four sizes two
large and tugging them on, snarling as he was forced to roll up the ends to
avoid tripping himself. Sighing, he threaded his tail through the hole he had
made, running a hand down the fur to smooth it where it had ruffled with his
agitation. For a moment he stared at it, his mind again returning to the night
before, remembering Kakarrot’s touch on his tail... His touch everywhere,
really. He could still smell the other Saiya-jin on his skin. His gaze slowly
shifted, returning to the man laying on the bed, his tall form bathed in
sunlight. For a moment a painful longing filled him, rising from a place inside
him he hadn’t known existed, and he took a half-step toward the bed, a gentle
expression on his face that no one had ever witnessed. Then, abruptly, he
halted, and the steel trap of his mind snapped closed on the feeling, viciously
cutting it off, silencing it before it could be truly acknowledged.
Twisting away from the sleeping Saiya-jin, he
headed silently toward the door. The soft protests inside him, the small voice
that pleaded with him to stay, were ruthlessly stifled. He could not allow such
feelings to weaken him.
Even so, just as he reached the door, their was
the faintest hesitation in his step, and he closed his eyes for the slightest
moment.
You could still go back... You could still
stay...
He set his hand on the knob and opened the door.
"Vejiita..."
He froze, his eyes widening briefly as he
remained facing away from the other Saiya-jin, staring through the open doorway
and cursing his luck. He said nothing, standing in the doorway unmoving,
refusing to turn back to the other man... The other man. His lover. His lips
tightened. No. A senseless, one-time fling did not make them lovers.
Kakarrot spoke again, his voice soft.
"You’re leaving."
Vejiita’s head dropped slightly, his eyes nearly
slitting shut for a moment against the sound of that voice. The honesty
inherent in it, honesty that showed all of the other Saiya-jin’s pain, the
hurt, even through the softness. There was no accusation in it. That was worst
of all. The voice held him still, refused to let him continue out the door,
and, even as he cursed himself, his hand slid from the handle to hang limply at
his side.
"Why, Vejiita? What... What about it was
wrong? What did I..."
Vejiita’s eyes closed briefly, and he turned
away from the door, entering the room again, though he refused to look in
Kakarrot’s direction, folding his arms over his chest as he walked slowly along
the wall, heading toward the other Saiya-jin’s dresser. He wanted to leave.
Every word Kakarrot spoke made a little chip in the defenses he had hastily
erected, letting his feelings bleed through a little at a time.
He heard Kakarrot shift on the bed, could
picture the other Saiya-jin leaning forward earnestly, his heart no doubt in
his too-honest eyes.
Oh God...
The thought was frighteningly desperate,
completely unfamiliar in its intensity, and he shied from it, even more
determined not to look at the other man.
"What did I do, Vejiita? What did I do
wrong...?"
A harsh breath escaped him at Kakarrot’s words,
and he struggled for a reply, searching for anything he could possibly say to
the other man with any believability. The pain in Kakarrot’s voice somehow made
something inside him resonate sympathetically, sharing the feeling. He paused
in front of the other Saiya-jin’s mirror, gazing at his reflection, the stark
emotion in his black eyes, the bruises from their fight marring his skin, the
disheveled state of his swept-up hair. He struggled to speak.
"I... It’s not exactly what... Kakarrot...
Last night we were-"
Abruptly he halted, distracted as his eyes
caught sight of something else in the mirror. Very slowly, with something
almost like dread, he lifted his fingertips to touch it. There, through the
darkening bruises and scratches left from their battle of the night before,
there was another mark, just above his right collarbone, in the heavy muscle
where his shoulder met his neck. Two red, fresh wounds in the shape of
half-moons. Until now he had been completely unaware of it, hadn’t even felt it
when it had happened. Now he stared at it, barely comprehending. A bite mark.
Kakarrot’s voice broke through the sudden din in
his mind, slightly hesitant. "Vejiita...?"
Cold shock washed through him, followed by
blazing heat. A red fury that made his muscles lock, his teeth coming together
until they ached as his hands curled into fists. Very slowly he turned, finally
facing the other Saiya-jin. The look on his face must have been murderous, from
the way Kakarrot froze, even recoiling slightly. When Vejiita finally spoke,
his voice was tightly controlled and low with menace.
"Kakarrot.... What have you done?" He
raised his fist in a vague gesture toward the other Saiya-jin.
Kakarrot swallowed, his eyes slightly wide as he
clearly struggled to understand Vejiita’s sudden shift into fury. Vejiita could
practically hear his thoughts racing as he tried to make sense of Vejiita’s
words.
"I... What? Vejiita, what are you talking
ab-"
"This!" the prince snarled, pointing
jerkily to the teeth marks on his skin.
"I-" Goku gaped and stared at the mark
like had never seen it before and was trying to place it. "Vejiita, I
don’t know, I-"
"Don’t give me that, you fool!"
Vejiita hissed, covering the bite with his hand for a moment. "I certainly
didn’t bite myself! How dare you..."
Kakarrot’s eyes darkened. "Vejiita, look,
I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do it, I don’t even remember it, but what’s the big
deal? You’ve received a lot worse than that in a fight before, it will heal in
no time."
Vejiita growled in rage, frustrated to the point
of screaming by Kakarrot’s ignorance. "You’ve marked me, you
brainless idiot! You have left your mark on my skin and claimed me!
Of course the wound will heal, but the scar will stay, and I will be branded by
you forever! I don’t know how you could have known how to do it, but
you’ve managed it, regardless. You don’t even realize- You- You-"
He could barely get the words out, could hardly
believe them himself.
"You’ve made me your... your mate
without my consent, taken what was never yours to have! It is my right
to choose my mate, my right as your prince, and you have taken me like-
like-"
He couldn’t continue, his breathing ragged as he
abruptly turned away from the other Saiya-jin. For long moments nothing was
said, the room absolutely quiet but for Vejiita’s rapid exhalations. Finally,
Goku spoke.
"Vejiita... I’m sorry, I swear I had no
idea. I would never have done it if I had known, I don’t even know what made me
do it. I promise you, I don’t even remember it, it wasn’t my intention. But,
please, Vejiita, what does it matter? Why is it so important now, when-"
"What does it matter?!" Vejiita
whirled on him, angry disbelief on his features. "I can’t believe you
would even ask me that, Kakarrot!" He once more turned his back on the
other Saiya-jin. "Obviously, you understand nothing at all. I’m through
with you, Kakarrot, it’s over. Don’t follow me, don’t talk to me." He
strode quickly to the door, pausing to throw back one last comment. "I
can’t believe I let you touch me. I never want to lay eyes on you again."
And then he was out the door and gone, leaving
silence in his wake.
Goku sat in his bed, staring at the closed door
for long, endless minutes, a blank numbness descending over him. The entire
scene that had just passed seemed too ridiculous to be real, like any moment he
would wake and find the prince still sleeping beside him, warm and content and
curled in his arms. Sickness rose in his stomach, the sudden, dull nausea that
accompanies a terrible shock to the system, and he brought a hand to his mouth,
pressing his palm tightly to his lips. His fingertips brushed wetness, and he
moved his hand to trail down his cheek, looking at the glittering tears caught
on his fingers. The sunlight sparkled in them brightly, oblivious to his pain
as it was to everything else, and he closed his eyes, smearing the salt liquid
against the bedsheets.
Slowly, he stumbled out of bed, the sheets
dragged to the floor around him as he walked toward the dresser and began to
get dressed, going through the motions mechanically as his mind played and
replayed everything that had been said between himself and Vejiita.
When he’d woken to see Vejiita leaving his heart
had nearly stopped, but as the prince moved back into the room to talk to him
he had calmed slightly, though he was still very worried. For a moment he had
even thought he was getting through to the other man when Vejiita had rounded
on him with such fury in his eyes, and he had drawn back instinctively,
trying to think what he could possibly have done.
What he had told Vejiita was the truth. He didn’t
remember biting the other Saiya-jin, it had certainly been nothing he had done
intentionally. It had simply happened, and he didn’t even know how.
When Vejiita had angrily explained the
significance of the bite, he had felt something tighten inside him, the
slightest thrill at the thought that he had made the proud prince his mate, but
that was quickly overwhelmed by Vejiita’s utter rage.
What he truly didn’t understand was why
it mattered so much to Vejiita at this point. There was no one else who could
possibly know the significance of the bite. Here on Earth no one would look at
such a scar and realize it meant Vejiita was "claimed", much less by
Goku. That was why Vejiita’s rage was so hard for him to comprehend. If he
chose, the prince could simply continue as if it had never happened. If he
hadn’t taken the time to explain it, even Goku wouldn’t have known the meaning
of it.
‘I never want to lay eyes on you again.’
Bitter pain washed through Goku’s chest as
Vejiita’s departing words rang in his head and he recalled all the prince had
said to him before leaving. Suddenly, though, anger rose as well, matching the
sorrow, and his teeth clenched tightly. He was tired of this. Tired of giving
Vejiita everything he had only to have the prince throw it back in his face at
the slightest provocation. Or even when that provocation was nonexistent, only
some imagined slight on the other Saiya-jin’s part. He had done everything
he could for Vejiita the night before, tried with everything he had to show the
prince what it could be like, let him know that there was a difference,
that there was a reason it was called making love. He had laid his heart at
Vejiita’s feet and this was his reward for it. To be kicked into the gutter
because of a mistake he hadn’t even realized he was making, based on the
customs of a world that no longer existed.
Roughly, he slammed the drawer shut, walking jerkily
toward the bathroom and wiping angrily at the tears that were still slipping
down his cheeks.
Vejiita didn’t want him to follow him. Well, he
wouldn’t. There was only so much he could take. He would not go crawling back
to the prince and beg to be allowed back into his life, ask forgiveness where
none was needed, and hope to be awarded some scrap of affection whenever it
amused Vejiita to give it. Even he had some pride.
Vejiita slowly drew his fingertips over the scar
on his neck, the skin there a slightly shiny white, just another of the many
scars covering his body. This one just happened to be in the shape of teeth.
Kakarrot’s teeth.
It had been eight days since he had left the
other Saiya-jin’s home in a rage, nearly blind with shocked anger and
emotionally raw from all that had passed between them. Eight days in which he
had not seen, spoken to, or heard from Kakarrot. It seemed that for once the
other Saiya-jin was following his prince’s command to the letter. And somehow
Vejiita didn’t know how he felt about that.
In the time that had passed, his initial rage
had cooled to a dull resentment, and it no longer upset him every time he saw
the scar in his reflection. He didn’t know what to think now, but he knew he
was unhappy. That was nothing new, he had always been unhappy, he supposed.
Living with unhappiness was as natural to him as breathing, he hardly even
noticed it. At least, he used to not notice it. He didn’t notice it until he
had something else to compare it to.
With Kakarrot... there had been moments when he
had been... happy. Happy. The word repeated in his mind as he continued to gaze
at his reflection, tracing the mirror image of the scar now. It was a foreign
word, a foreign concept, strange in its newness, in its unfamiliarity.
"Happy."
He almost started at the sound of his own voice,
then felt a faint heat in his cheeks as he realized he had stupidly said the
word aloud, trying out the feel of it on his tongue. It somehow felt like he
was speaking in another language, borrowing a word that should not belong to
him. It was impossible for him to wrap his mind around the concept of being
happy not only for a few minutes or even a few hours, but always. Kakarrot...
was always happy.
Oh, certainly he became angry, or sad or
worried, but at his heart... there was a boundless happiness that seemed to
sweeten the very air.
Suddenly Vejiita drew away from the mirror,
frowning in disgust at the path of his own thoughts.
Look what a weakling I’ve become. Pondering
such flowery sentiments, even in my own mind, is pathetic.
As he moved to stand before the window, looking
out at the afternoon sky, his foot caught on something soft, and he glanced
down at the mound of darkness piled at his toes. Slowly, he bent to pick it up,
the material tumbling to its full length in his fingers.
Kakarrot’s sweatpants.
He was suddenly swept back to that night, his
eyes closing unconsciously as he remembered... remembered the feel of
Kakarrot’s hands. He felt himself shudder as goosebumps prickled his skin at
the phantom sensations of pleasure. And for the first time since that night he
truly let himself acknowledge it. Acknowledge the depths of the pleasure he had
received beneath Kakarrot’s hands, beneath his mouth... He sagged weakly
against the window frame, his eyes still closed, his hands curled in the fabric
of the sweatpants. He suddenly wished for the other Saiya-jin to be there,
wanted to feel Kakarrot take him in his mouth... Wanted to reaffirm that what
he had felt that night was not a dream, not a mistake.
His fingers tightened in the soft fabric as he
drew a breath through parted lips, his head leaning back against the window
frame. Until now he had not allowed himself to think of it, and as he finally
did, what truly struck him was the gentleness, the utter absence of pain. No
hurt, no humiliation, just Kakarrot’s touch on him... everywhere.
His eyes opened.
There it was in itself, something he could not
allow, could never let happen. Kakarrot knew him, had an intimate knowledge of
him that no one had ever had. Knew his body and his mind in ways that no one
should.
You let him past all of your defenses, you
weak, pathetic fool. You gave him control over you, something you swore you
would never do again. You let him possess
you, and even thought of letting him again. All so you could hide from your
scary nightmares and forget your pains for a while, you worthless, fucking coward.
His teeth came together sharply and he crumpled
the pants into a ball, throwing them into the garbage and turning to face the
window again. Kakarrot was like a cancer, slowly weakening him from within.
He would not go back to him.
Trunks frowned thoughtfully, watching his
father’s workout as the prince moved through the gravity chamber with blinding
speed, nearly too fast for Trunks to follow. Vejiita was training under 600g’s.
Just the thought of it was enough to make Trunks wince. Where he to even
attempt to join his father he would find himself flat on his face, unable to
move almost before he got into the room. Instead he simply watched from the
high windows surrounding the gravity chamber, his frown deepening.
He was worried about his father. The prince
hadn’t been himself for days, but he absolutely refused to talk about what was
bothering him. He hadn’t been able to pry the smallest detail from Vejiita’s
sealed lips, and that worried him even more. His father had never been one to
talk openly about his feelings, but this degree of withdrawal was unusual even
for him.
He could faintly hear Vejiita’s snarl of effort
as he paused, holding position in his kata.
Trunks suspected that whatever was upsetting his
father had something to do with Son Goku, but it made him uncomfortable to
think of going to talk to the other Saiya-jin about it, for more than one
reason. If Goku was an involved party in this it would seem unfair, and he
didn’t want to anger Vejiita. He needed to talk to someone else, someone who
might be able to give him a new perspective on things...
For a moment the demi-Saiya-jin tapped his
fingers against the window, considering, then turned to leave Capsule Corp.
He held the X-rays up to the light, frowning a
bit and chewing on the end of his pen as he looked for signs of a malignant
growth in the lungs. His head tipped to the side slightly as his eyes narrowed,
then were suddenly drawn to a specific point, low on the left lung. There. It
looked to be just beginning, but the-
A knock on the door interrupted his train of
thought, and he blinked a few times to clear his head, still gazing at the
X-ray.
"Ah, come in," he called distractedly,
taking the pen from his teeth to write something on his chart.
He heard the door open, and a moment later a
voice called out, almost too respectfully, "Dr. Son?"
Glancing over his shoulder, Gohan saw Trunks
standing in the doorway, smiling a bit, his lavender hair pulled back in a
ponytail as his eyes sparkled with slight mischief.
"Hey, Trunks. I’ll be with you in a sec,
just let me finish up this report."
"Whatever you say, doctor," Trunks
replied primly, again with that exaggerated respect in his voice.
Gohan smiled faintly, shaking his head as he
continued filling the report, working down the page with brisk efficiency. When
he reached the bottom he signed his name with the typical flourish and
near-illegible scrawl of a doctor before handing it to the waiting nurse and
turning back to his young visitor, running a hand through his short, dark hair
and shrugging out of his lab coat.
"So what brings you here?" he asked
curiously, gesturing for Trunks to follow him out of the lab as he headed for
his locker. Quickly punching in his combination, he opened it and hung his coat
inside, collecting several things and placing them in his briefcase before
shutting and locking it again.
Trunks shoved his hands in the pockets of his
jeans, frowning and glancing out the window for a moment. "Well I... I
need to talk to someone... About my father."
Gohan paused in the act of loosening his tie,
looking at Trunks in concern.
"Vejiita? He’s not- I mean, he’s all right,
isn’t he? We’re not having another crisis here, I hope...?"
"Oh, no, not," Trunks waved his hand,
"not that... It’s just... I’m worried about him, and I’m not sure what’s
wrong, he won’t talk about it. I just have a feeling it might have something to
do with Goku, too, and I don’t know what to do. I wanted to know if you’ve
noticed Goku acting at all strangely, lately, or anything. I don’t know how
often you’ve seen him, but..."
"My father..." Gohan said musingly,
frowning as he slowly finished pulling off his tie. "Actually, now that
you mention it, that has been on my mind lately. The last couple times I’ve
seen him he just seems... off, somehow."
"Really?" Trunks leaned forward
slightly, his blue eyes widening as he looked at Gohan intently. "How do
you mean? Have you talked to him about it?"
Gohan smiled slightly, rubbing the back of his
head with his hand. "How about we get out of here and talk about this over
a cup of coffee and dinner? I’ve been here all day and, honestly, I’m
spent."
Half an hour later, the two half-Saiya-jins were
commiserating over steaming cups of coffee, and warm plates of food, Gohan
having insisted on paying the bill and telling Trunks to get whatever he’d like
after the younger man had worried under his breath about the amount of cash he
had on him.
"I’m not that old," he’d joked
with a smile, "I still remember being eighteen and having to scrape for
cash. I’m not a doctor for nothing, you know."
Now the dark-haired surgeon leaned back in his
seat, holding his cup of coffee near his face and breathing in the steam as he
frowned pensively.
"Dad seems really up-tight to me, not his
usual self at all. He’s unbelievably short-tempered, the most I think I’ve ever
seen him, actually. He’s always sorry right afterward and apologizes and feels
really bad, but still, it’s strange. He’s almost seemed to be brooding
the last few times I’ve talked to him, and I haven’t even been around him that
much. He’s trying to hide it, but he’s my father, and he’s always been honest.
It’s pretty easy to see through him."
Trunks nodded, swirling the noodles on his plate
around his fork.
"My dad seems the same to me. I mean, he’s
never been the most social or fun-loving person," he said with a faint
smile, "but lately he’s just been really.... intense?"
Gohan ‘hmmm’d in agreement, taking a sip of his
coffee and then setting it down, and biting at his lower lip thoughtfully.
"It’s very odd that they’d both be acting
so strangely at the same time. They must have had a fight or something... But
they fight all the time. I can’t imagine what could have happened to cause
something like this."
Trunks bit the inside of his cheek, tapping a
finger on the table for a moment before raising his eyes to Gohan’s. "I
think... we’d better find out, Gohan. I’ve tried to get Dad to tell me what’s
wrong, but that just seems to push him farther away."
"I know. Maybe... Maybe we should try and
get them together or something and see how they react. Then we might hear or
see something that would clue us in. At least we’d probably be able to find out
for sure that it’s each other that’s been upsetting them."
"Yeah!" Trunks nodded. "It feels
kind of sneaky, like we’ll be spying on them, but I don’t know what else to do.
It’s pretty much impossible to make Dad talk about something when he doesn’t
want to."
Gohan grunted, lifting an eyebrow. "I can
imagine, believe me. Maybe I’ll talk to Videl about throwing a party at our
house or something. We haven’t gotten everyone together in a while, that should
be a good enough reason. I’m gonna have to let her in on the real reason,
though, Trunks, I don’t like keeping secrets from her."
Trunks waved a hand dismissively. "That’s
fine, I pretty much expected it anyway. We might want to get Goten’s point of
view on what’s been going on too, actually, since he still lives with
Goku."
"Right. So who are we gonna need to invite?
We’d better not miss anyone."
Trunks pursed his lips thoughtfully, ticking off
names on his fingers. "You, me, Videl, Goten, Pan, Goku, and Dad makes
seven. Then there’s Krillen, Juuhachigo, Marron, Yamcha-"
"Piccolo, Tenshinhan..."
They finished their quick count of names and
Gohan smiled a bit, running a hand through his hair. "Damn, we’re gonna
have a full house. Hopefully Videl won’t mind," he said with a slight laugh,
"She’s pregnant now, too."
"Ouch. Maybe I could talk to Grandma. She
loves to throw parties, I’m sure she’d be glad to help."
Gohan nodded, grinning. "Assuming Vejiita
can tolerate her for the whole length of the party."
Trunks laughed. "Well, he’s put up with her
this long, he should be able to deal with being in the same house with her for
one evening."
Gohan laughed as well, rising and pulling on his
jacket, leaving the bill and tip on the table. Trunks got up as well, smiling.
"Thanks, Gohan."
"No problem, I’ve been worried about this
too. So now we’ve set the trap, we just have to make sure the prey actually
shows up. I’m not too worried about Dad, but are you sure you’ll be able to
convince Vejiita to come to a party?"
Trunks exhaled with a smile. "I’ll figure
something out, believe me. If nothing else works, I’ll have to give him a guilt
trip. Just as long as I don’t mention Goku it should be fine."
"All right, then, I’m counting on you
Trunks," Gohan said with a wink. "I gotta get going, though, I’ll get
back to you soon."
"Right, talk to you then. Bye."
As Gohan left, Trunks finished gathering his
things, his eyes narrowed in determination. Something was going on between Goku
and Vejiita, that was obvious enough. He and Gohan were going to find out what
it was.
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