Lil' Something's and Loads of Nothing's
"My Dad Is The Bestest Coolest Dad There Ever Was And Don't You Forget It"
- Trunks
I
Drip…drip…drip…
He had never heard anything that sounded more threatening in his life.
Drip…drip…drip…
It just wouldn't stop. And at the rate this was going the kitchen would be flooded soon enough…flooded by the big white dripping monster...
CREAK…
Oh…this was it! Someone was coming downstairs…and with his luck it'd be the blue haired femme fatale with a deathly temper…oh Kami…somebody help me!!!
---
Trunks stood, shivering from head to toe in his teddy bear pajamas staring down at the dripping puddle of milk that was spreading out on to the kitchen tiles from the tipped over carton on the counter and he was scared…more like frightened…perpetually terrified…as terrified as any ten year old boy would be of facing wrath from the one woman who could strike such feelings into any man's heart…his mother.
The footsteps grew louder and Trunks realized that the moment of truth had come, that it was over and that his mother was probably already at the kitchen door, ready to push it open, having no idea of the mess she would face once she came in.
The door flung itself open and Trunks squeezed his eyes, shut, getting ready for the scolding, for the huge lecture and the screaming coupled with it. His hands bunched into two determined fists as he got ready to face his mother, reminding himself that no matter what he was NOT, repeat NOT , going to cry when the disciplining would come. He would take it. Take it all just like he'd been taught because, like his mother had always told him, there was no use crying over spilt milk, no pun intended.
He waited. And waited. And waited. Till finally…it came…
"What ARE you doing boy?"
Trunks opened up one eye at the voice for it wasn't his mothers. No way. It was definitely not. That voice was not his mothers. And those WORDS were definitely not his mothers.
"Ugh…hi…Dad…"
Obviously, who else could it have been? Trunks was so used to the way he would address him, always 'the boy', never really 'Trunks', but he didn't mind it to much. He liked 'boy' better than 'baby boy', that was for sure! He looked up to face the critical gaze those black eyes would always pierce through him and like always he would accept it without question, this was after all his idol standing before him, the man he looked up to, followed, imitated, and wished to be like in every way possible. This was his Dad.
His Dad. Wow. Not every boy could say that there Dad was this cool. Because Trunks knew it as well as he knew the fact that he had purple hair. His Dad was COOL. How could he not be? He was universally royalty. That had to mean something in the world of total coolness, and it truly did, in the little ten-year-old's mind anyway.
"I asked what you're doing. What is that mess?"
His Dad was clearly ticked off at him, but whether it was because of the mess or simply because he wasn't answering properly Trunks had no idea. Maybe his Dad was just always ticked. It nearly ALWAYS seemed that way. He wished he could manage to stay always ticked like that. If it made him one step closer to being like his Dad…?
"Ugh…I was just getting the milk…I was thirsty see…"
"So…what? You decided to take a swim in it?"
Was that anger or humor in his voice? Maybe a bit of both. Trunks wasn't sure but a lot of stuff his Dad did he wasn't sure of and so he just went with the flow.
"I wish," He was trying to sound casual. It kind of came out in a really pathetic squeak that he knew his Dad was scoffing about in his mind and that didn't help at all. "I just wanted to pour the milk…but…"
Now what? He knew exactly why he couldn't pour the milk but the reason wasn't good enough. His Dad would be furious if he heard the excuse because if there was one thing Trunks knew well about his father it was that his father HATED lame excuses and this one was so high on the lame factor, Trunks literally felt suffocated, totally trapped. Dead.
"I guess I just got clumsy Dad"
"Typical. Get yourself shaped up boy or you won't get anywhere in life. Being clumsy. That's a pathetic human state. You're not a disabled earthling. You have Saiyan blood flowing in you. Stop acting like a dunce and prove that you aren't just another regular earthling brat"
Was his Dad being extra harsh today or extra lenient? At this point Trunks really had lost the ability to measure this; everything his Dad normally said to him sounded harsh so it didn't really matter anyway.
"Okay Dad…Sorry…"
Whether he heard that or no, his father didn't show because he'd already gotten what he'd come for in the kitchen, a glass of water, and then disappeared through the back entrance in the kitchen.
'Probably to the gravity chamber' Trunks thought, his mind spinning. His Dad could actually defy gravity and that wasn't even the most awesome of all his powers. His Dad was just about indestructible and undefeated and probably the coolest living being in the universe. He wished he could defy gravity the way his Dad could but he was still at the basics of his father's grueling training program. He'd have to wait, his father had said, before he could make it to the top and actually achieve anything.
"Oh man!"
The milk was still spilt and he had to wipe it away as quick as possible and so Trunks shrugged and dragged himself over to the cupboard under the stairs, hoping to maybe find a mop in there…
---
Vegeta was putting all his efforts into his training, fighting and successfully pummeling the robotic drones Bulma had spent hours on, in mere seconds, in the comforts of the gravity chamber. Training. That was his sole purpose for existence at times. Sure, he HAD a family and no matter how hard he tried to avoid expressing it out loud, he was FOND of them, but that didn't mean he didn't have priorities. Family was one thing but training was something else entirely. Suddenly his mind switched over to another subject altogether and all of a sudden he saw the familiar face of a certain little boy. Purple hair and all. He tried to shrug the thought away but due to some unexplainable phenomena, that face remained securely tucked in his mind and he decided he might as well check up on the real thing.
Looking over his shoulder he was able to see the struggling boy attempt to walk around the gravity chamber without getting glued to the spot and realized that at this point it could take months before they actually got somewhere with increasing his stamina.
"Pull yourself together boy" he yelled across the room and received a very forced and exhausted nod in return. Vegeta wasn't sure whether he found the unfolding scene humorous or pathetic but one thing was for sure: this wasn't going to interfere with his training.
"Turn over the switch higher while you're over there at the panel. At least then you might be a bit useful!"
That was harsh he had to admit to himself and for a second a bit of parental concern consumed him. Trunks was after all trying his best and he could at least TRY to be an encouraging father and try to boost up his son's confidence. Wasn't that what the woman was always yelling at him about? Boosting up their son's confidence?
He tried to compare Kakarot's handling of his two sons. The eldest had proven a miniscule portion of his worth and yet Kakarot was lenient and the youngest was nowhere near the caliber of Trunks and yet Kakarot didn't persist with forcing his son to train. It could also be because unlike Bulma, Kakarot's mate wasn't exactly FOR training those brats but nevertheless, Kakarot was a highly beloved father in that household.
Then again, Trunks needed a bit of reprimanding. The woman WAS always bestowing endless love and compassion on the boy, spoiling the brat rotten and that was why, during these training sessions Trunks did need to be reminded that not everything was as easy as asking Mommy for a bit of assistance. Convinced that what he was doing was probably for the best anyway Vegeta glanced in Trunks direction once more and couldn't believe how low his son had stooped for there stood the boy, dancing about on his tip toes, his fingers wiggling just out of reach of the power switch of the panel. Trunks had gone as purple as his hair in the face, sweating from head to toe, trying ever so hard to flick the switch but he simply couldn't and it was for one and simply one reason; a reason he was thoroughly ashamed of ever admitting to anyone, least his father: he was TOO short.
---
"What the HELL boy? Just flick the damn thing!"
Poor Trunks felt his heart beat grow faster, much too fast, for a ten-year-old anyway and he wasn't sure how much more he could possibly take with all the pressure. He was only ten and no matter how much his father wanted him to, at that moment he simply could not flick that switch. He wished now that his mother was there because she would have at least understood his little dilemma. Not that he would ever actually tell her he was worried about his height, because that, he knew, was weak, and that was another thing his father really hated alongside excuses: weakness. "Come on…come ON!!!" he muttered to himself, trying ever so hard to reach the switch but nothing would make his toes balance up higher, nothing was helping and eventually he would have to give up and then his father would really give it to him
---
Vegeta really couldn't believe what he was seeing. His son was definitely loosing this battle, end of story. He could pretty much guarantee that Trunks was not going to reach that switch and that was that. Trunks was simply to, and here he grimaced, short. And yet, here was his son, refusing to give up, even when all odds were against him, even when he knew he was going to lose he refused to back down, refused to turn away and claim defeat, no. He kept on persisting, kept on extending his fingers further, kept on hopping on his toes, biting his lip, eyes stretching out to the whites as he kept on attempting the impossible. Yes, he looked incredibly prissy at that moment, like a badly composed ballerina, scratch the tutu but, for once, Vegeta was able to over look the lack of presentation and was able to see through, into the efforts of his son.
---
Trunks wanted to do one thing at that moment and if things kept looking as bad as they were he was sure he might actually do it, regardless of whether his father saw him or not. Trunks was 100% sure he was going to burst into a fitful of tears right that second if a miracle didn't occur and it didn't look as if one would. He still couldn't reach that stupid switch that was causing all his problems and he almost felt as if he was going to blackout. Already the symptoms had started because he couldn't even hear his father yelling at him anymore.
---
Vegeta extended an arm over Trunks' head, completely ignoring the boy for the moment and briskly pulled a switch, but not the one to increase the power and gravity capability. The gravity machine slowly began to loose power and after a few seconds of making quite a few irritating mechanic noises, buzzing and whatnot, it managed to shut itself off. Vegeta let go of the switch and gazed down at his son with a rather plain expression and in return received a rather plain expression back.
---
'Something's really wrong…Dad must be really angry…'
Trunks fiddled about with his bowl of cereal, poking it with his spoon, he wasn't really feeling all that hungry, his stomach was actually making him feel like throwing up and so he just continued fiddling about.
"Don't play with your food…you know it irritates your mother"
Trunks immediately dropped the spoon in his cereal bowl, causing his father's eyes to widen just a bit, and just stared into the milky consistency, wondering what his Dad was thinking at that moment, sitting across from him at the breakfast table, a whole half hour earlier than they normally had there always silent breakfast together for training had been brought to a rather early end, due to some rather embarrassing circumstances.
Trunks felt like a complete failure and it was rather a depressing feeling, one he really didn't want to feel but was feeling nevertheless, naturally. And his father's complete silence wasn't helping the matter…that is until…
---
"What's bothering you?"
Vegeta had generally just asked this to make effort at some rather hasty conversation but immediately figured out that he had hit the spot because Trunk's head had darted upwards in a flash to look at him, a terrified expression written across his face.
"Nothing…" he muttered a bit to fast.
"Speak up boy. And don't say 'nothing'. Clearly something's bugging you or we wouldn't be lounging around here. We'd be training…"
Trunk's face reddened a bit, indicating that Vegeta was getting much closer to the problem and he only needed to persist a bit more.
"Spit it out boy…I'm not letting you go easy this time…"
"It's nothing really Dad…I just messed up a bit…"
"I can see that…I'm not blind Trunks…I want to know why you messed up?"
Maybe it was the tone Vegeta had used, maybe the fact that he had used his son's name rather than the forever used proverb or maybe it was because Trunk's was at a bursting point, but the point is, he finally decided to give in.
"Dad…I'm kind of…kind of…Dad…I can't do anything right…"
"And am I ever going to find out why you're such a failure at everything you attempt…or why you believe this anyway?"
"The thing is Dad…I'm kind of…well…kind of…"
---
"-short Dad…I'm short…"
Trunks wondered with mixed curiosity and fear what his father would say to this and waited for something to happen, something to occur, something that he hoped wouldn't involve extra training as a punishment for being weak…he didn't get his hopes too high…
---
"Short?"
Vegeta echoed the word as if it was alien but since he was an alien to it was oh so familiar to him. So this was what the entire issue was about: being short. Trunks was upset because he was short and thus this was getting in the way of everything, fogging up his focus, distracting him and leaving him useless in many areas. The incident with the spilt milk now became much more understandable. Trunks simply couldn't reach the milk carton and that's why he had accidentally sent it cascading along the side of the counter, creating and indoor milk fall…manmade causes purely. So short was Trunks he couldn't reach the switch on the panel he had been desperately trying to reach and Vegeta suddenly realized what exactly had been going on.
He had after all suffered the same fate at his own son's age…except this time; his son would have a better mentor…one who would bring him up…not keep him down at a lowly height….
Trunks twiddled his fingers a bit, his face flushing deeply as he waited eagerly yet patiently for his father's response, not knowing what to expect at all and thus he was shocked alert when his father spoke up.
"Stop twiddling your fingers…it looks prissy…"
Vegeta couldn't believe how much control he held over the little boy that sat before him but apparently he held quite a lot because the boy looked practically electrocuted every time he spoke up.
Such obedience, which had before made him feel superior and pleased with himself, now made him feel rather disgusted with himself for making his son so afraid of his own father. He immediately set to attempting to lower his voice a bit, knowing he wasn't about to do this every day so he might as well make the best of this moment.
"Trunks…you aren't short…"
Brilliant beginning he thought to himself with some congratulations. Now, how to go on about it?
"You're only a child right now…you will grow…"
Wow. He was actually pretty good with this consoling rubbish the woman was always protesting for him to get into. He could somehow see why she found fancy to it. But not THAT much. Maybe just a one time thing, though.
---
Trunks looked completely disbelieving of all of this, taking it all in, but not understanding a word.
"The thing is Trunks…you will grow…it will take a while but you will…I did…and I used to be extremely short…"
Here he struggled with his words. His height had always been a rather sensitive topic he absolutely loathed broaching and normally he avoided it completely. But this time, all it took was one look at his distressed son to continue.
"I was extremely short boy…and believe it or not…I am still VERY SHORT…"
Trunks mouth hung open in shock at hearing these words. His father was ACTAULLY agreeing to a physical flaw of his own, and he was being rather calm about it, which was most surprising. Trunks couldn't…no…wouldn't…believe his own ears…
"Dad! You're not SHORT! You're SO TALL!!!"
As if to emphasize his point Trunks sat up in his chair and raised his arm to measure height. Across from his Dad smirked over at him, and this seemed to encourage Trunks in the slightest.
"You would think so…that I'm quite tall…that is because you are shorter than me and thus looking up you see a very tall person. But believe me Trunks…I'm much shorter than someone my age should be…my growth spurt apparently refused to kick in…" he sounded bitter but Trunks refused to back down.
"But Dad…if I'm shorter than you then I really AM short…"
Vegeta winced at this comment, it was becoming slightly personal in his point of view, but then again, wasn't everything with his son a bit personal.
"Trunks…you are just a child. You'll see…eventually, if you keep up regular training when I tell you to and eat whatever the heck your mother puts on your plate without fussing about it like a baby then you'll get your growth spurt and get taller. Who knows? You might even get taller than me…but you'll have to work at it…"
It was a clear challenge in his voice and Trunks eyes seemed to brighten at the prospect.
"Taller than YOU!?!?!"
"No son of the Prince of all Saiyans is going to stay a shrimp. You have to earn your right to stand tall…you will grow Trunks but even if you aren't the tallest being in the universe remember…as long as you keep your dignity and your pride…you can be as tall as you want…but you have to work at it and stop lounging about…wasting your time…"
---
Trunks could feel his heart swell up within his chest. His Dad was ACTUALLY giving him encouragement and Trunks couldn't help but feel that this was a first in his lifetime. Sure, his father hadn't actually begun a whole cheering session because once he had spoken over the subject he had resumed back to eating and had not spoken a word throughout the breakfast experience. Yet, Trunks somehow felt that the conversation he had just had with his Dad was worth a million words and one step closer to being like his Dad, the best Dad in the world. For now, he'd just hand his dishes over to his father who was putting them in the sink, just in case Mommy came in and found the table trashed. No matter how tall he got, his mother would always tower over him. His Dad proved that fact every single day by doing something or the other…
---
Bulma stepped into the kitchen, clutching the paper bags piled with groceries tightly and nearly fainted at the adorable sight that was set before her; one in which her husband was holding their still young and short son up to the sink so that he could put his dishes in without causing catastrophic disaster.
"Wow. Washing dishes? And how are my two little men today?" she announced to the heavens in a cheery voice and couldn't believe the sudden and deathly glares she received in return for the greeting.
"We-are-NOT-little"
And together in unison the father-son duo paraded out of the kitchen, off to the gravity chamber, leaving Bulma standing rather dumbstruck in the kitchen. But only for a few seconds when suddenly a purple haired blur ran back into the kitchen, gave his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek before whispering, "Tell you later" and then torpedoing right back out.
"Well…wonder what those two were up to…"