Kay, so, remember that fic I wrote for Blue and Black? "Missed You"? Well, that same prompt kinda double inspired me, so this is the result of that. Yay, another Veggie/Trunks fic! Mirai Trunks, this time. Ah, the lovely father/son moments XD Poor Trunks-kun. Anyhow, short, but cute, you love it, review it. You don't even have to click a blue button.

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

Inspired by Blue and Black Community's oneshot prompt, Weeks.



10 months, 1 week, 3 days, 13 hours, 17 minutes, and 28...29 seconds. That's how long they'd been here.

And Trunks was just about ready to get the hell out and never come back.

His second year in the time chamber hadn't been much more fun than the first, other than the fact that his father had actually begun to train him. Trunks, like his tousan, had too much pride to ask Vegeta for help, but the elder Full Blood had gotten irritated that Trunks' self-training hadn't gotten him very far without being faced with the same dilemma that had nearly gotten him killed against Cell. He had gotten much stronger, no doubt, and he'd come a little bit closer to making the transformation correctly. He still found that he wasn't on par with his father. While Trunks had surpassed him in sheer strength, he did not have the combination of raw power and speed that Vegeta did. He was working on it; of course, he was fast in his Super Saiyajin form, but being an Ultra Super Saiyajin increased his muscle mass to a point that almost cut his speed in half. Perhaps he was stronger than his tousan, but not without good reason; Vegeta hadn't been able to become a Ultra Super Saiyajin because he had simply refused to.

That, of course, did not sway the Saiyajin Prince in his conquest at all. If anything, it made the training "sessions" all the more brutal. Trunks found himself literally fighting for his life every day, and every time he swore that it couldn't possibly get any worse, Vegeta stepped up his game and made it just that.

Just one more month and three more weeks. He could make it.

His father was a very passionate man. Once he decided he wanted something, you'd have a hell of a time changing his mind. He wanted that transformation, and nothing Trunks could ever do or say to him would make him stop striving for it...

Even if death seemed to be a step closer every day.

They didn't have any Senzu beans. Their wounds healed the old fashioned way, slowly and painfully. New cuts and bruises appeared faster than the older ones could disappear. Sometimes, Trunks wondered if death would have been a mercy. His tousan was far more resilient than he; years underneath Frieza had toughened Vegeta's hide. His pain tolerance was nearly limitless, which, in turn, caused him to be able to get back up for a much longer time than Trunks. This often resulted in Trunks getting his ass kicked.

"Boy, get up."

Trunks groaned and rolled over underneath the warm covers, pulling his pillow over his head.

"I said get up, Brat!"

Trunks snored.


The purple haired demi-Saiyajin blinked wearily as he suddenly found himself on the floor in his boxers and fading white socks, the covers twisted around his legs. Vegeta stood above him, glaring down at him menacingly, his black eyes ablaze with irritation as he clenched a corner of the blanket in his fist.

"Did I sleep in?" Trunks asked innocently.

Vegeta's glare sharpened. "Yes, you slept in, brat. On your feet when I'm speaking to you, you hear me?"

Trunks jumped to his feet, and suddenly Vegeta was glaring up at him. "Sorry, Tousan," he said sheepishly.

Vegeta scowled at the name and spun on his heel, headed for the training area. "Get your clothes on and get out here. You're falling behind in your training."

"Yes, Tousan."

"And stop calling me that!"

Well, Vegeta hadn't told him what else he could call him, so Trunks called him Tousan anyhow. Besides, Vegeta had already admitted, to Cell of all people, that he was his son, so Trunks knew he didn't really mind it. Vegeta was just being grumpy, that's all.

"What are we doing today, Tousan?" Trunks asked after he had dressed.

Vegeta was silent for a moment, and Trunks could tell even from the back of the Full Blood's head that his father had his thinking face on. Vegeta unfolded his arms suddenly and clenched his fists. With a woosh, his black hair turned a vibrant gold, yellow flames licking subtly at his flesh.

"Kakarot made it seem as if being a Super Saiyajin was easy for him. So did Kakabrat. Well, we're stronger than both of them, so it should be easy for us, too."

Trunks nodded, smiling a bit at the silly name his Tousan had given to the younger version of his Sensei. Vegeta had silly names for everybody, Trunks had discovered, and they never ceased to amuse him, though Vegeta knew nothing of this.

"So, you want to see who can go Super Saiyajin longest?" he asked.

"It won't impact us as much as training in base form will," Vegeta mused aloud, ignoring the question. "So we'll just have to train harder. We'll work in Super Saiyajin half the time, and Base the rest. Yes, that should suffice."

Trunks nodded, even though Vegeta hadn't actually been talking to him. His bangs, now long again, suddenly turned yellow and spiked up around his face, clearing his vision and stretching his ponytail holder. "Do you have a goal in mind?" he asked.

"To be stronger than Kakarot. What else is there?"

Trunks, ever the reasonable one, sighed and said, "I know, Tousan, but we don't know how strong Goku-san is. Wouldn't it be more logical to set our own goal, based on our own data?"

Vegeta growled in annoyance, very softly. "Just like your mother," he muttered, heading out towards the empty white space.

Trunks smiled. "That's funny. She always said I was just like you."

Vegeta froze and glanced back at him ever so slightly, and Trunks thought that maybe, just maybe, he saw his Tousan's lips twitch at the corners.

4 days, 17 hours, 46 minutes, and 11...12 seconds. That was his record for staying Super Saiyajin, which was impressive considering his training regime with Vegeta. The Prince's record was 6 days, 14 hours, 24 minutes, and 7 seconds.

Trunks remembered the first time he'd slept as a Super Saiyajin. To be honest, he hadn't really thought he could do it. He was sure he'd fade out of it in his sleep. That night, he'd dreamed of blinding power and flashes of light, and when he woke (at an ungodly hour, he might add) he found that his hair was still blonde. Trunks had whooped in both surprise and glee, waking his Tousan with a start. It struck Trunks then that this would be the first (and last) time he had ever been up before the Saiyajin Prince. Unfortunately, for this very reason, a very agitated Vegeta (who had also stayed Super throughout the night) decided that they would use their new extra hours to train, which again resulted in Trunks getting his ass kicked.

Better to be beaten by Tousan, Trunks reasoned, than by Jinzoningens.

At least his father wasn't trying to kill him.

Two weeks later, both Trunks and Vegeta shattered their records, each of them lasting a whole 8 days.

1 month, 6 days, 23 hours, 19 minutes, 27...26 seconds to go.

Trunks woke up late again, this time of his own accord. After watching Jinzōningen Jū Hachi-go break his Tousan's arm played on repeat in his head, he was more than happy to get up.

But he was still late.

The teen, now 19 years old, jumped out of bed and grabbed his armor, hopping on one foot as he tried to put on his boot standing up. After finally getting it on (he'd grown a bit, he thought) he ran outside, expecting to hear the sounds that were the results of his father either training or throwing a temper tantrum.

Instead, he found silence, and Vegeta standing statue still in the middle of the whiteness.

An ordinary person would have guessed that it was a very well-crafted sculpture of the Prince, were it not for the subtle way his dark hair was carried about by the soft winds that blew in from a blizzard over a hundred miles away. Trunks, however, being no ordinary person, caught many things about his father's figure that proved he was alive, His blue eyes, far sharper than that of even the most powerful humans, could see the gentle rise and fall of Vegeta's chest, how he shifted his weight from his left foot to his right in an almost discreet manner, even the barely noticeable flex of muscles that meant he was battling with himself.

"Tousan?" Trunks called.

"It's not enough," Vegeta said quietly, almost a hiss.

The demi-Saiyajin blinked and frowned, and though he knew already, he asked very gently, "What's not, Tousan?"

"Shoulda done this earlier," The Prince growled, ignoring the question in the usual fashion. "I needed more time. That damned Kakarot wasn't powered up half damn way, and I've just barely caught up with that!"

Trunks's shoulders sagged slightly, and he blew a puff of air between his lips to move the purple hair from his eyes. "Tousan - " he began.

" - Always one step ahead of me, that clown! That third-class trash!"

Trunks winced and tried again. "Tousan, listen -"

"What the hell is wrong with me that I can't catch up to that...that...low class scum!" Another savage growl ripped from the Saiyajin's throat, and Trunks's hair stood on end. Vegeta's dark eyes sought something to punch, but since there were no walls conveniently around, he suddenly dropped to one knee and buried his fist in the ground with a loud crack.

"Damn him," Vegeta snarled. He sat on the ground, also suddenly, and propped his arms up on his knees. "Damn you, Kakarot."

Trunks was a bit unused to seeing his father pout, though, like Bulma, the Prince did exhibit a bit of childishness every once in a while. It was even rarer, however, that he would see Vegeta truly upset. Most of the stoic Prince's emotions were shielded by either indifference, arrogance, or simple silence. Maybe it was the fact that, no, he was not stronger than Goku, and even the Earth-raised Saiyajin had no clue as to whether or not he could defeat Cell.

Maybe it was because there was the possibility that they'd all die before he had a chance to prove himself.

Trunks scratched his cheek absentmindedly, a bothersome habit that he'd picked up from his mother long ago. Then, to his own dismay, he brushed his bangs out of his eyes, a personal habit that he'd thought he'd finally broken. Finally, he sighed and sat down beside Vegeta, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them tightly. Vegeta seemed to be glaring at the space in front of him as if it were a solid object (most likely a solid object with spiky hair and a goofy smile, Trunks thought), his chin resting on his arms, brow furrowed harshly.

Trunks bit his lip, thinking, and after mentally (and hey, maybe physically too) swallowing his fear, he suddenly leaned over and nudged the Prince with his elbow. "Hey, Tousan, guess what?"

Vegeta glanced at him, and though his eyes were narrowed in a way that would make anybody else (well, except maybe his mother and Goku-san) run for the hills and never look back, Trunks could see the curiosity that was barely a glint in his black eyes as plain as day. He'd inherited that curiosity from both of his parents; let Vegeta pretend all he wanted, but Trunks knew that his father was a curious creature, and when he wanted to know something, he would find out what it was if it killed him.

"What?" Vegeta said, somewhat suspiciously.

Trunks nudged him playfully again and grinned. "We still got 1 week, 13 hours, 27 minutes, and..." he glanced at the giant clock, "42...no, 41 seconds left to go."

Vegeta raised a thick, black eyebrow, still curious. "So?"

"Betcha I can kick your butt before the week is up!" Trunks said, giving his father a very Vegeta-like smirk.

The Saiyajin Prince returned it almost immediately, as if it were a reflex. "That so? Are you challenging me, Trunks?"

Well, it'd been a while (okay, more than a while) since Trunks had been called by his name instead of 'brat', so he grinned extra big and said, "Damn straight."

"Well," Vegeta said, standing. "Let's see what you've got, then, boy."

Trunks nodded and took his fighting stance, still smiling.

"Let's make this last week count, Tousan."