Title: Love for the Missing
Warnings: None except for a little sap. No yaoi this time! O.O!
Setting: Well, I don't know if the placement of this would work in the timeline but Goten's 17.
Notes: This is just a (very) short piece about feelings.

Who was that man who just decided to show up? Who was the guy that I had heard so much about, who was he really? Why was he gone for so long? Why did he even leave?

I look to the man with dark hair. Heís chatting away to Vegeta. Vegeta doesnít look very interested, he usually doesnít when the younger Saiyan talks to him. Why does he even try to talk when he knows Vegeta couldnít care less? Iíll give him credit for not knowing Vegeta the same way I have come to, but still, why... how can he be so happy?

He had contributed to my conception, but that was it for the following seven years. Though he did leave high expectations for me to live up to. It wasnít fair. I had to walk in the shoes of a man Iíd never know personally, only through stories. How did he expect me to do it?

Vegeta, the man I had come to know as the father figure in my life, finally shut the other Saiyan up, saying that heíd like to spar sometime before the next millennium. The tall man smiled-- my smile-- and agreed to the fight.

He looks like me, even has similar gestures, though he doesnít know me. He knows of me, not me though. I always wanted to know him-- personally, not through stories. I always thought that having a father would make life that much better. It made it more difficult. Complicated.

I watch as the two fight. The man who was more of a dad to me fighting against the man who was my father. I watch my fatherís moves carefully, as I have done every time I witness them sparring. Itís become a habit, studying my father. I think itís something I do to try and know him better. Iíve noticed heís watched me before too.

Having a father was nice in a way. I finally have someone to brag about, to bet to my friends that he could beat them in a fight. Though Iíve grown passed that stage of life, itís nice to he's here.

My father isnít as graceful as Vegeta in fighting. He doesnít carry the same air about him-- though neither do I. Trunks and I are different in that aspect as well.

I smile and stand up from my rock. Approaching the slowing sparring session.

Goku returned after I had gone through seven years of ďfirstsĒ and seven years of learning. He hadnít taught me skills or values, and hadnít shown me what I was to do as a man. Yet I managed to learn of what he wouldíve taught me. Through my brother and his friends. I knew what he probably wouldíve said to me after waking up with a nightmare, though it was always his words coming through someone else.

The two men finally stop their short sparring and stand to rest. I walk to my fatherís side.

He wasnít there. He didnít raise me. Though I always knew him. I am a part of him as he is a part of me. I couldnít deny him as my father, and I wouldnít. He is what I had wanted all throughout my childhood and had received at seven. Iím seventeen now, and I still want him. I still need him in my life though I grow more independent each day.

I wrap my arms around the goofy haired Saiyan. He tenses briefly before slowly wrapping his arms around my shoulders. We donít say anything as we continue to hold each other in a hug. Silent tears leak down from my eyes as he tightens his hold on my shaking form.

You are my father, and my dad. I love you, Goku, I really love you, Daddy.

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