I tried to call him, tried to make everything alright again, tried to apologize. But every time I was answered only by ChichiĎs worried voice, telling me that Goten hadnít come home yet.
It was my fault and the worst part was that I didnít even understand myself why I slapped him at all. There was no reason. Not even for jealousy, he did make it clear only a short while ago, that he liked men after all!
I was so stupid.
Had I only listened to my feelings at that time, it would have never come this far.
He appeared to school more rarely, his grades were suffering, his cooperation decreased. He shut himself off, didnít even take care to keep up appearances of interest.
I tried to talk to him several times, tried to agologize yet again, but he refused my approaches every time, telling me there was no need to apologize.
Like a ghost, who doesnít care anymore. A body without soul, a bygone individuum.
And it hurt.
It hurt to look at him but not to be able to do anything about it. I was once his best friend, for Christís sake. And now Iím just a helpless spectator.
And it was my fault. The egoistical bastard in me, who thought about nothing but himself and who gave away his best friend, his.... his everything, just because he didnít come clear with himself. Too proud to confess, that he could indeed be not normal. Too chicken to deliver himself to society. What would they think of him after all?
Only now Iím finally conscious of what I had done Goten in progress, of how much I hurt him with every single one of my rejections. Iím a cold-hearted bastard.
But... now itís too late to change the past.
I had the chance... once. But now heís too withdrawn, now he avoids every contact as much as possible. Nobody could resent him.
So I had no other option but to watch him. He seemed feebler with every passing day. His eyes were often fogged with some kind of haze, his pupils were extremely contracted most of the time. His skin was pale, sallow, dirty. Worst, however, was his body. Goten had lost weight exceedingly. His clothing hung loosely above his skin.
Sometimes he would begin sleeping in during a lesson or trembling uncontrollably, just to wipe the sweat from his forehead seconds later.
But the picture that will stick forever in my mind was another one.
Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe luck. Maybe even destiny that I asked my teacher at excatly that moment if I was allowed to go to the toilet.
Never had I imagined what I would find there.
When I opened the door my heart seemed to stop beating all at once. My breath catched, something in me shattered.
Goten sat there on the floor, huddled up, his look vitreous, his eyes empty. Small red lines running from his forehead to his chin, dropping down with enticing whisper to mingle with the floor.
All around were fragments and pieces of the mirror, that hang on the wall once. Some of them had his blood on them.
He didnít even notice my entrance, or maybe he did. At least he didnít react. There was only the small sound of sniveling.
For I second I was panic-stricken. There was the person I cared most about, on the floor, surrounded by his own blood and a shattered mirror. I shook the feeling off. I wouldnít run away this time.
Hesistantly I moved towards him and laid my hand onto his shoulder. A gesture, with which I actually wanted to soothe him. But as soon as I touched the fabric of his sweater Ė I havenít seen him in a t-shirt for ages Ė he jerked back, his whole body trembling, his sobbing becoming louder.
Oh God, Goten. What happened to you. What have you done to yourself?
I approached again, but this time I didnít make the same mistake. I didnít lay my hand onto his shoulder, but rather pulled him close to me. He stiffened and started to resist for a moment. However he must have seen, that he was too weak to do any real harm, for he stopped his attempts after a few minutes and just laid on my chest stilly.
I wonít let you go again, Goten.
My hand ran gently through his hair, while I whispered quiet words into his ear. I needed him to calm down.
And I only prayed, that it wasnít too late. That I wasnít too late. That I didnít take too much time to come clear with my feelings.
Whose tears mingled with the blood, mine or his? I canít tell. But I know, that he needed the touch as much as I needed it.
I stood up slowly, bringing Gotenís fragile form with me. He clung to me, when his body was shaken by a forceful wave of shivering.
"Iím tired, Trunks." He mumbled against my shirt, his breathing was slightly uneven, his voice almost unrecognizeable.
"Come on. Iíll get you out." I choked, my tears blurring my vision. What in Kamiís name have you done to yourself, Goten.
His grip was loosening and I swooped him up immediately. I considered about where to go for a moment, then came up with the conclusion to take Goten home to my apartment. Better to wash the blood off him, before his mother sees him and faints. Iíll just call her to let her know that heíll spend the night with me. Just so she wonít have to worry any more than she already does.
Goten stirred a little against my chest and I thought I heard him whisper my name.
Part Eight |