Author's note: Sad, dark, and dreary. No happy ending here. I felt like taking a little diversion from my usual style of writing. This little scene takes place several years after Mirai Trunks defeats the androids and Cell of his timeline.

General disclaimers apply as usual.

Tears of Solitude

Mother, I cannot bear this burden anymore. I'm alone and forever will be.The saiyan in me surges in a time where no other exists. I've saved this world from destruction and yet I cannot prevent my own. I cannot be accepted amongst the "normal" humans for that I am not. And surely since no other exists, my warrior side withers. You encourage me to live amongst the humans and continue my life, but how? Mother, you have no idea what it's like to have cravings of bloodlust. To have anger on the verge of erupting just because your body beats to its rhythm. With the androids alive, I had a sense of purpose. Did I do myself in? Perhaps, but I couldn't allow them to harm and kill anymore.Your kindness and love also courses my blood.

I lost my childhood. Or did I ever really have a childhood. I had to grow up so fast. It was a matter of survival. With or without the ability to fight, I would've been hunted down because of my saiyan blood. What kind of life is it for a child to live skulking amongst the shadows, wondering if they'll awaken to see the light of the next day? In that I know I'm not alone. There are so many children who, even to this day, are alone like me. But in essence, they are not like me. I'm still different. I can never truly fit in.

I once asked you if we could return to the past to live. You said, 'impossible'. I understand the reasons why and to do so would be selfish, but there is nothing for me here. I have you, but for how long? I have no feelings of independence or any desire to find a mate. In fact, I refuse to bring a child into this world, knowing the complications of the saiyan blood in its veins. I will not allow another to suffer as I am. I could not teach my child how to cope when I myself cannot. And so, it comes full circle again. What good am I alive? A man needs a purpose to live. I have none. Protect this world? From what? The happiness replaced the despair in the lives of those in the past. But I returned to this time only to find that I could not replace my own. As I originally thought, it was a bad idea for me to travel into the past. The memories I now have from that experience makes me long to return. My heart rips to shreds when I remember that in this timeline, they're dead...all of them. They left me alone.

I know I'm your 'pride and joy', but don't you want what's best for me? You know what the answer is. I long for death. I am the last of my kind...the last saiyan, the last warrior, the last hope. No, you are my last hope, mother. I don't know what I'm asking of you, but I know you are my last hope. My innocence is gone...I've killed and I've done it out of revenge. I should've done it out of the hope of a brighter tomorrow. My soul is tainted...forever. Is this my punishment? To live life out in stuck in the grasp of lonliness? Perhaps it is, but I'm a coward. I can't handle it. I don't want to suffer anymore. Forgive me for amounting to nothing. You had so much hope for me. If Gohan or one of the others had survived perhaps things could have been different. But where do I go from here? I'm being selfish I know, but I've never had anything for myself. It's time I did. Perhaps I will embark on a new mission...a new adventure. If I'm forgiven for what I'm about to do, perhaps I'll meet the others in the afterlife. I am sorry, mother.

Bulma attempted to crumble the note out of her surge of anger, but couldn't bring herself to it. If only her stubborn son had actually shown it to her. Instead, she discovered it tucked away in a book Gohan had given him while boxing up the last of his things. Her face laden with old and new tears, returned as it had so many times before, to his favorite possession...his sword. The damn thing still glimmered eventhough Trunks' dried blood stained its entire length.Something prevented her from cleaning it. She never found his body, just the sword, overlooking a cliff that ended in the churning seas below. Leaving the sword was his way of letting her know of the finality though without the details of exactly how he took his own life. He wanted her memories to be of him alive, not that last look upon him at death.

Awakened in the middle of the night by a strange 'feeling', she was drawn to that cliff not long after. She found the sword glistening in the moonlight, but doused in blood, only half dried at the time. That damn sword that Gohan had once told Trunks was a weakness ended up being Trunks' escape from it all.

Her pride and joy was gone. He had seemed so content and nearly happy upon his return from the past. He'd successfully defeated the androids and a creature called Cell. He restored peace and helped communities rebuild. But, yes, she knew his saiyan blood would bring darkness back into his life. She tried everything she could to maintain his happiness, but over time, life became mundane for him. He had developed an immunity to her words of encouragement and love. Her son had seen and experienced too much pain and suffering for her to save his tormented soul. Gohan was wrong...Trunks was not the planet's only hope. He himself was. In living, Gohan would've filled that missing gap in young Trunks' life and maybe even her own. Trunks would've had reason to live and learn. Trunks was also wrong. She herself, was not hope. She couldn't keep her own son from his own destruction and he didn't even have the decency to give her the letter she had just read. Had she known just how deep darkness had grabbed him, she may have had some form of recourse. No, what could she do to a super saiyan? Nobody aside from another super saiyan would understand what's running through that raging blood and soul.

She shook herself out of her thoughts when she heard the soft knock at the door. Wiping the tears off her face and recomposing herself as best as she could, she answered the door. It was ChiChi. Bulma broke down in tears upon seeing her. ChiChi too, was tear-laden, reliving the death of her own son through Bulma's loss. The two locked in an embrace of comfort though both knew nothing could heal the wounds in their hearts. Nothing would bring back their sons. The last light of hope for the saiyan race flickered out and only ChiChi and Bulma could continue its legacy through their stories, memories, and photos until one day, they too, would be reunited with them in the afterlife.