Doomed to Failure
prologue ---ghosts from the past---
(Rating: T)
The figure seemed in a hurry. Eager to get away from where he or she was. A cap covered the face, revealing nothing. The dark cloak reached down to brown-leathered army boots. The sinister figure carried an equally dark bundle, holding it close to her chest.
The square was deserted. Not a living soul dwelled in the streets at this hour of the night, with such rainy weather. Rushing across the tiled square, the figure halted abruptly, turned slightly, and stood motionless in front of a tall and erect statue of a man leaning on his sword.
A slender feminine hand moved from under de bundle to hold it with only one arm. The now free hand removed the cap and revealed the face of a woman, wet with both tears and rain. Her dark eyes glistened with still unshed tears as she looked up to the statue.
"Trunks— I miss you so much."
The bundle in her hand moved a bit and two tiny hands tugged on the woman's cloth. She didn't care to look down to the little girl in her arms. She stood motionless, watching the massive statue.
The lavender-haired infant tilted her head coyly and gazed up to the enormous statue. She exclaimed, but spoke simply one word, which echoed over the deserted square.
"Touchan!"
The black haired woman, still holding the child, turned away and vanished into the darkness of night.
His fingers tapped across the keyboard, swiftly typing down the words that emerged in his mind, not as rapid as his mother would type but it would have to do.
Trunks' Journal, January 26, 797:
A decade of peace, 10 years after I destroyed Cell. Thirteen years after the Jinzouningen were stopped forever in their horrible reign over this planet. I sit here in my office, unsure of what I should do with my life. When I had just defeated Cell my mother suggested I should travel the world to help rebuild it. So I did. Not because I felt the need, no, because my mother wanted me to. The planet could have gone up in smoke for all I cared. There was an emptiness I could not explain. After I had defeated the last enemy known to our world, Chikyuu's need for a guardian was gone. In my foolish beliefs any enemy could arrive I continued my training. But now, a decade after the last threat was destroyed, I know the world is safe. And if it isn't, I no longer care.
The world is safe. I know it is. There is nothing left to threaten it. What enemy from the outside could arrive? Furiiza is long gone, and so are his minions. There is no force known stronger than him, apart from the three that were created at the hands of an insane scientist from my world, the three I defeated.
I occupied myself these past years with rebuilding what was lost but there are things that cannot be fixed. I have tried to love. But I've hated so much I find it hard to unearth anything else. There is nothing else. I love my mother, and to me, that's enough. She has wanted me to move on so badly, wanted me to settle down and start a family. But I am no family man. I am a warrior. The last warrior. The last, carrying the Saiyajin Legacy within. And it will die with me.
I can no longer do this. There's nothing left for me here: in selfish denial I have waited for a new threat to Chikyuu. None came.
Often have I pondered how the past is doing. How the timeline I warned for the Jinzouningen copes with every day life. But I will never return.
Please forget about me. I no longer exist. I don't belong here. I belong in a violent world. I thrived on combat, lived for it. The boy I once was died long ago. And the dead cannot return to this world. So I know I will never be whole again. I will never be what I long for so badly. I'm a warrior. But there is no war. Only silence.
I suffer. I suffer in silence.
He stared at the cursor for a long time until his mother's voice woke him from his torturing thoughts.
"Trunks! Trunks-kun, could you get over here?"
He turned his head, as if it would enable him to listen closer.
"What's wrong, Kaasan?" He called to the back, into the hallway.
No response came. He stood from the chair and left his office. Walking down the alley of Capsule Corporation, he made his way down to Bulma's main laboratory.
He stood in the doorway when he saw his mother's slender legs from underneath, what looked like, some sort of vehicle.
"Kaasan?"
She crawled from under the vehicle and sat up, setting aside the wrench she held. The blue-haired woman smiled, wiping sweat from her brow, smearing oil on her face.
"Ah sweetie, there's something I wanted to talk to you about," she said.
Trunks nodded once, mutely. Bulma looked up to him, lit a cigarette and took a crumpled up piece of paper from her overall, reaching it to her son.
Trunks frowned, deepening the wrinkles in his brow. "What is it?" He wondered as he unfolded the note.
"What do you make of this?" Bulma asked.
He looked curiously at his mother. "Go on, read what the note says and tell me what you think. I found it this morning on the kitchen table," she explained. She inhaled from her cigarette when Trunks unfolded the paper and began reading.
'To the Briefs family,
You do not know me and I cannot tell you who I am if you would.
I was born in an alternate world, a parallel universe, a different Chikyuu.
In this world – like this one – the Jinzouningen were defeated. So was Cell.
Before you begin to wonder what point I am trying to make, I will tell you.
There is something else. And as long as there is any power in this world left it will awaken, sooner or later. Its name is Majin Buu. There are two ways of defeating this creature. There is the easy way and there is the hard way.
Buu's sphere is still somewhere in this world, I can feel it. But he has not been woken up yet. Majin Buu lies dormant somewhere in the innermost of your world. I have not had the fortuity of finding Majin Buu's nesting for if I had I would simply have destroyed it to prevent all misery, or at least had attempted to.
Buu will awaken as soon as its creator's successor, Babidi, will have gathered enough life-force of Chikyuu's inhabitants to rouse it. Please, prevent Babidi from awakening Majin Buu. Babidi may be a trickster with sly helpers but I'm sure they're nothing Trunks cannot handle.
Prevent Buu from awakening. Prevent it or everything's lost. My world is gone because of Majin Buu. Everything I once cared for is gone.
Don't ask too many questions. It doesn't matter who I am.
Trunks, I learned that you defeated the Jinzouningen and Cell by yourself. That means you are stronger than my Trunks ever was. Maybe you hold the key to destroying Majin Buu, much like I failed.
If ChiChi is still alive, please give her a hug for me. And I will keep your Gohan in my prayers. I miss him, too. Keep his daughter safe, will you?
Promise me you will stop Babidi in awakening Buu. Destroy Buu's sphere.
I know. I know I haven't told you of the hard way. I'm sure you're curious about it, like all bearing Saiyajin blood would be. There is no hard way. There is no other way.
---A friend.'
Bulma inhaled from her cigarette before she spoke, meeting Trunks' confused stare.
Trunks said nothing, he did not understand.
"Trunks, I—"
The man cut off his mother. "Someone left this for us on the kitchen table?" he asked.
Bulma nodded. "Yes, and he or she must have known the Capsule Corp inside out."
"What do you mean?" Trunks asked.
"The monitors of the VC-Guard showed nothing. Not even a shadow. There was no recording between two and three last night."
"You mean to tell me this mysterious visitor erased the images the cameras recorded?" Trunks clenched one hand into a fist, crumbling the note slightly.
"But she dropped this," said Bulma as she held up a small stuffed doll.
Trunks took the small plushie from his mother's hands, frowning. He looked at the doll: the spitting image of his mother, a small CC sign embedded on the doll's dress.
He stared at his mother. "She? A woman? She dropped… this?"
"I'm sure of it, we haven't made dolls like those in over forty years." She paused. "I'm suspecting our burglar was a woman. I just know it."
Trunks shook his head, nearly crushing the doll in his strong fingers. "You mean our messenger is just a kid?"
Bulma shook her head. "I doubt it. But this doll definitely belonged to one. It's seen a lot of misery and it's old. Maybe it was hers when she was younger."
"You know I wasn't much older when I was faced with…" Trunks held his tongue suddenly, pushing the doll back in his mother's hands, unfolding the letter a second time, re-reading it. "She speaks of a daughter, Gohan's daughter. Gohan never had a daughter." He looked up, eyes locked onto his mother's. "Mom, when did Gohan die?"
Bulma blinked. "779. Why?"
"Gohan never had a daughter. You think she might—?"
"I don't know Trunks. I honestly don't know. But she says she learned you defeated the Jinzouningen and Cell. She must've been in town. Maybe some of the citizens saw her. She couldn't have just disappeared, could she? She might be able to erase our recording bots' memories but she can't erase the memory of people. She must've at the very least crossed Hope City, right?"
Trunks knew what was coming and knit his brow, clenching his teeth. "I won't go in case you were wondering," he sneered, turning away.
"Trunks…" Bulma pleaded as she enclosed a hand onto her son's shoulder. "We might as well try to verify…"
"Then why don't YOU go?" the lavender haired man whispered.
"I… It's…" she stammered. Then, gathering her wits, she finally spoke without further hesitation. "Not only do I need some new supplies… I just want you to see what Hope City became like since you helped rebuild it. No big deal. People are even wondering whether you are still alive. You never show yourself anymore. You saved them, you are their hero, their…"
"I'm no hero. Give it a rest, mother. I'll collect your stupid supplies if it means so damned much to you."
He strode out of the lab, the crumpled paper in his folded hand, a tight fist reflecting on his inner struggle to hold on just a moment longer. He closed his eyes and took a Capsule Corp. aircar. He never flew anymore. He hated to fly on his own. He hated to scan the horizon in search for an enemy that would never come. He hated the life he was leading now. He hated life itself.
My Trunks, he thought. What did she mean by 'my Trunks'? And what did she mean by Gohan's daughter? Did Gohan have a daughter? What does this mean?
There were so many questions. And if Gohan had had a daughter why had he never mentioned it?
It didn't take him long to drive into the centre of Hope City. It was a Tuesday afternoon, no big deal, no traffic jam and no busy streets. Chikyuu was still not a very crowded place. For many humans had died during the Jinzouningen constant onslaught.
He stopped his car and locked it in a small capsule by pressing a button on the remote he carried in his navy blue jacket.
Trunks looked up. His eyes widened. In the middle of the Town Square stood a tall and erect statue. The features were more than apparent. The statue was of a man, hair down to his shoulders, pulled in a ponytail, a sword in one hand, on which he leaned. The statue was of him, of Trunks Vejiita Briefs, as it said on the plaque below. He swallowed. They had even mentioned his father's name; a name he only carried personally, not formally.
He knew now why his mother had sent him into town. She was trying to make him realize he was still needed, the people still wanted him around, he was their hero— He was their hero. The world was no longer in need of a hero.
A young boy tugged on his trousers. He looked down with a stern, hurtful face. The boy's smile faded, he met up with Trunks' glare frightfully.
"A…are you the man of the statue, s…s-sir?" he stammered.
Trunks continued gazing at the boy. He said nothing.
The boy's mother, younger than Trunks was, came up to them and picked up the child. "Better leave Mr. Briefs alone, Kuna. He doesn't have time to talk to you, he's our guardian."
The words echoed in his mind. Our guardian, he thought, some guardian—
Then, he stopped the woman from walking away. Asking her several questions in hopes of finding the answers he sought.
She growled. The toddler wouldn't stop crying. She tried to concentrate, only to fail. She clenched her teeth, trying to fix the loose controls of the pod. Still, the child by her side screamed and shrieked with a force that could easily pass for an entire army hollering at the enemy.
"Oh for Kami's sake, shut up!" the woman snapped, shooting a brief glare at the girl beside her.
The girl hushed up instantly but just for a moment. Not soon after, she began weeping again, louder and louder. "I want my Baachan! I want my Baachan!" she shrieked over and over.
The black haired woman set down her tools, sighing, sitting down on her buttocks. She blew a string of pitch black hair out of her face and took the girl in her lap. "Bikini-chan," she pleaded, "I don't know where your doll is. You must have dropped her somewhere. I'll buy you a new one once we're out of here. Okay?"
The girl looked at her mother, mute for an instant, chewing her tiny hand.
"I promise?" the woman attempted when the girl pouted. But it was to no avail for the child started screaming yet again. "I want my Baa-chan!"
The black-haired woman sighed. She was becoming desperate rapidly. "Listen missy, we'll go into town to look for your stupid doll. If we can't find it, I'll buy you another. So please hush up. You don't want your mommy to turn deaf or go mad, do you?"
The child looked up to her mother, nodding silently.
"Okay. Fine," the woman muttered, scrambling to her feet, holding the child in one arm.
When she walked off in the direction of Hope City she sighed loudly. "You're a real pest, Bikini-chan, a real pest."
Author's Note:
Maybe this needs a little work around the edges but I'm mostly writing this because I need a little distraction from my other projects. I do suppose the essence of this story is a little cliché but I don't really mind.
This is a very old prologue. It's probably more than four years old by now. Kind of funny how I never really finished this story. I don't know why. I guess I'm not good at romance. I'm a fight scene writer. And I like writing about humour. The thing is, Mirai Trunks isn't a very humorous person. Heh.
Also, I would like to point out to Trunks-Pan haters (and lovers) that I'm no true Trunks-Pan fan. In fact, I can only slightly imagine them together in the future world. And even in that world I am very hesitant to think Trunks would ever be such a pervert to hook up with his mentor's daughter. It just doesn't sound like something Trunks would do. Still, I'm not opposed to possibilities and I'm open-minded. I suggest you are, too. Don't hate me for opening the possibility of Pan and Trunks (like a million did before me). Note that Mirai Trunks is single in this story and I'm a fervent aficionada of impossible love. My loyal readers probably know that by now, hehehe.
Also, there's still the possibility that this black-haired woman isn't Pan. Ha. P