Hello everyone. It's me, Nikouki. We are on vacation, that is, the time when most of the students feel the best, but my little ones are down again. It was only my birthday - which was supposed to cause a "high" - but I still feel totally shitty. I shouldn't necessarily use such expressions on the Internet because, to put it in good German, every idiot and every unspoiled elementary school first grader can download this or at least call it up, but I have to be a bit obnoxious again. At home that's forbidden again. Hence my low. My father will soon go abroad for professional reasons, for eleven months, so I shouldn't also "confuse the good man with my puking manner."

But before I load up my emotional rubbish for you in this way, I'd rather try a different way. Sorry in advance, but another psycho story is due.

-Foreword end-



Empti



Rain, nothing but rain. It had been going on for days. The rivers burst their banks everywhere and flooded entire areas. The western capital had so far been spared this catastrophe. However, the CC was facing a completely different catastrophe: an addition to the family. In the beginning Trunks liked to play the big, caring brother, who got up at night for his stressed parents and took care of the little one. But now Trunks had had enough of the constant screaming that his annoying sister made. Bulma and Vegeta had hardly had time for him since Bra was born, it was always about Bra. Had they forgotten that they also had a son? It was always just called Bra. All day: Bra did this, Bra did that, and that and so on.

Now Trunks couldn't even walk through the alleys and side streets of the city with his buddies and so briefly avoid the latest reports about Bra, which his totally ecstatic parents had been spreading all day long.Loud music was taboo, Vegeta had made this very clear to his son: Loud music could cause hearing damage in the little one. Trunks was still racking his brains about how: His room with the stereo was on the second floor, but Bra was downstairs during the day, where Bulma and Vegeta watched her sleep with fascination and argued about who she should feed him now.

It was all well and good that Bulma was enthusiastic about her little daughter, but she was also with Trunks, but Vegeta, who always treated Trunks relatively cool and distant ... That hurt Trunks somewhere. Other fathers took great care of their sons, the family owners, and made no secret of how proud they were of them and how much they liked their sons. These fathers tended to leave their daughters to their mothers and devote themselves entirely to their sons. Wasn't that sort of thing expected from Vegeta, who should once have ruled over an entire people?

Frustrated, Trunks put on his grandfather's rain jacket and left after a half-loud "I'm going for a walk!" the house of the Briefs family.

Trunks felt alone in the deserted streets. At home Bra was now the focus, if Trunks was looking for approval he had to think about something unusual. He could ask Son-Goten, it couldn't hurt, or better yet, why didn't he just ask Son-Gohan? He must have been in about the same situation when Son-Goten was born.

Shortly after dark, if you could call it that, since it was actually dark all the time, Trunks arrived at Goku 's house. The light was on in the kitchen, ChiChi was either cooking or they were already eating. Trunks peeked tentatively through the window. The family sat at the table and had a leisurely dinner, Mr. Satan was also present, of course after Gohan and Videl had married. No trace of a gloomy mood, ChiChi and the others apparently joked about Goku's table manners, which left a lot to be desired.

Trunks hung his head in defeat. The rain seemed to penetrate even through the impregnated fabric of the raincoat. The biting cold stabbed Trunks like thousands upon thousands of needles into the flesh. At home he was no longer noticed, where Bra had now taken on the lead role. Who needed him when you could have your sweet little sister?

He really needed someone to help him, someone like ...

"Tell me, can I help you somehow? With dry clothes, for example?"

Trunks spun around, startled. "Gohan! What are you doing here?" Trunks asked, still slightly shocked. Who expected such an attack?

"Hmm, let me think for a moment. For example, I live here. And what are you doing here?" Said Gohan, slightly amused. Trunks looked weird to scream in his grandfather's sloppy raincoat.

The old sadness returned to Trunk's eyes. How should he explain his situation?

"Well, I wanted to ask you something ..." Trunks said with a frustrated undertone in his voice

"I think we should go in first, don't you think? It's pretty humid out here."

"Okay, but I'm not in a good mood right now, so don't try to take me into the kitchen."

"If you mean ..."



After a while, Gohan came back into the living room. ChiChi had first gone to Trunks to get things from Goten and had forced Trunks, who had not noticed that his clothes seemed so soft, to change. Trunks was now sitting in the living room with his head bowed and in dry clothes.

"Well, then let's go. What happened to you?", Gohan asked interestedly. Trunks winced again, startled.

"Hey! What's going on? Did I scare you?"

"No, no. I'm just not really used to being spoken to without telling me anything ..."
"What ?! Why is that?"

"Well ... that's probably because of Bra .."

"Aha .. I understand." Gohan bring me a fresh diaper right away! ... "I know that kind too."

"I just wanted to ask what I should do now."

"Well, I hope you realize that your mother has to take care of the little one, right? But you still have Vegeta ..."

"That's just it! If at least Papa would pay attention to me, but Bra also made a fool of himself! You only give me orders, both of you, and when I have an evening with my friends in the western capital go away a little, then they don't even say 'But take care!' or 'You'll be back here at 11 o'clock!'! They don't even say goodbye to me anymore! "

"Oh dear .. Then they really neglect you."

"Yes. I'm just overlooked. It's always just Bra, from morning to night."

"You might want to force your parents to listen to you."

"Aha. And how?", The frustration in Trunks voice was now clearly audible.

"Well ... first of all you bring your things, i.e. clothes and school books, here. We want to see how long it will take before they miss you."
Trunk's face brightened a bit, finally no more orders and among people who were still listening to him. Then the 12-year-old's face darkened again - it could be days before they missed him ...

After a brief thought, Trunks returned to the main building of Capsule Corp. back. He hastily packed a few items of clothing into one of his rucksacks, his books and notebooks into another, and then left the house without saying goodbye. Let them see how they got along without him!



Since I don't want to have a happy ending in this story (my depression is slowly getting worse, because I also have an argument with my father and no, he didn't read the FF.) I leave the ending open.If you feel like it, you can come up with something, but also put the story in, maybe the Depri will stop it. Thanks to all the volunteers, you don't have to do that, it wasn't an order or something. So it is purely voluntary if you want to expect something like that from courageous fan-fic writers.

Bye your Nikouki.





[The story is older, sorry! Unfortunately I did not get into the I-Net ... * shame *]