BY : chayron
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 18982
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z it belongs to its respective owners. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it.

   Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Ball Z – it belongs to its respective owners. Neither do I own Final Fantasy. This fan fiction is not a commercial project, and I am not making any money from writing it. 
   Warnings: Alternate Universe. Yaoi (male x male). Goten x Trunks and vice versa. Other pairings. 
   A/N 1: Officer ranks at Hataro Officer Training School [from the highest to the lowest]:
   1. Taisa
   2. Shaii [Trunks Vegeta]
   3. Shyu
   4. Captain [Laureus Tanko]
5. Drill sergeant
   6. First-in-command
   7. Second-in-command
   8. savar [anyone attending any officer training school]
   A/N 2: The Saiyan education:
   0. Preparatory school (pupils 8-13 years old)
   1. Paramilitary school (pupils 14-18). From there to --> boot camps (drafts/grunts) or:
   2. Officer training school (savars 18 – 20). From there to --> military posts or:
   3. Commissioned Officer Academy (ranks)
   by chayron (, looked over by Christine
   Part 4
   The lecture went smoothly and in complete silence, where the savars were afraid to even sneeze, and after they were finished with the theory, their new lecturer took them all to the yard for practice. Goten had a very bad feeling about this. The feeling only increased when he saw a huge pile of swords lying about on a spread cover. The rays of the sun were playing on the sharpened edges which were glaring at a hundred and thirty-five savars threateningly.
   “I thought they would be wooden ones or something,” Toharu muttered with a voice filled with dread. He and Ario had somehow appeared behind Goten. “I have never held a sword in my life. What if I cut someone up? Or someone cuts me up? Don’t I have enough trouble as it is?”
   “Will you stop whining? I have been telling you not to skip the classes! You yourself are at fault,” Ario sighed from Goten’s other side. “No, seriously, I hate your hangovers!”
   “But I hate swords!” Toharu groaned after taking a look at the pile of swords again. “Why the hell do we need sword training at all? Ki-blasts work just fine!”
   “Gods, will you shut up?” Ario grunted.
   Goten couldn’t figure out how the two always managed to end up in the seventh squad together with him and no one noticed that.
   The shaii, still in his denim jacket and ragged blue jeans, his lavender hair tied up in a ponytail, stood opposite the three squads with the Masamune in his hand. The enormously long blade was as long as the prince. 
   The prince’s unconventional looks baffled many. One would always doubt if he even had something in common with the Saiyan race, but the prince did have a tail. It wasn’t brown, though. It was of the same color as his hair, which was just plainly weird and disturbing. Usually, half-breeds were looked down upon. Not in this case, though, when one knew that it took only one wrong look or comment and one could have his ass tossed out of the school or to be simply cut in half. Whatever he looked like, a prince was a prince after all.
   The prince was the result of a treaty from an alliance with the Earth. His father and the most influential leader of the Earth contracted nineteen years ago, which resulted in a son. The prince was raised on Vegeta-sei, rarely seeing his mother who was busy on Earth; a marriage of convenience didn’t suggest anything else. The prince wasn’t on very friendly terms with his father either. He got along better with his grandfather than his father. And that mattered a great deal, because his grandfather was the king of Vegeta-sei.
   Blue, big eyes were rifling through the three squads, taking in over a hundred savars. 
   “Now, I know that, you lot, hate swords. But you, dumb-heads, should know that many of the races we are currently not on very nice terms with, like using ki dampening equipment. So let’s say, in the middle of a battlefield and you can’t gather your ki and can’t blast any of the bastards who are attacking you, therefore you grab a sword or a gun that was left by a random pile of corpses lying around. Fists are all cool and nice but they don’t do much against latest armors. 
    “So now, when you grab a sword, you should at least know how to hold it. I expect that all of you have already learned that at your prep schools. So we’ll come straight to several moves. But before that I want to give you a demonstration of the efficiency at sword-fighting,” the blue eyes swept over the rows, looking for a victim again.
   Trying to become nonexistent, Goten hunched and lowered his eyes. This time Goten’s trained radar of trouble was screaming at him and demanding for him to run the hell out of the rows. The prince was going to beat the debt out of him. He should have never ever gone to that officers club. His life now was screwed. And there were two years of this to follow… Goten groaned inaudibly.
   Despite his efforts to become nonexistent, Goten could feel the prince’s eyes descend on him and he, against his own will, raised his head to meet that blue gaze.
   “Yep, you, sword expert,” the prince pointed at Goten. “Come here,” he beckoned Goten with his finger. “If I have to have a spar with someone, I’d prefer not to kill them in one blow,” he said.
   Goten left the ranks and stood against the shaii whose lavender eyebrows rose questioningly as Goten started fumbling within his pockets.
   “Sir,” Goten produced the same note he had gotten from the hospital and held it against the shaii’s nose. “I’m excused from physical activity until tomorrow, sir,” he clarified.
   The shaii’s clear eyes took in the note indifferently then dropped back to Goten. The knowing smile that appeared on the shaii’s face sent shivers down the younger male’s spine. The prince leaned to Goten’s ear. “You seemed pretty healthy to have been able to beat up those three elites… Now, if you don’t pick up that fucking sword, you’ll be exempted from all physical activity for the rest of your life because I’ll just simply cut your legs off. Got it?”
   “Yes, sir!” Goten saluted and ran off to the pile of swords. He had been prepared to say something about his tail not having healed completely, but feared that saying that might result in him spending a year or two tailless.
   “Do you think the prince intends to kill him?” Toharu drawled. “Why the hell is he picking on Goten? Should we get worried? Do you think Goten at least knows how to hold a sword? Hey, are you listening to me?” he turned to Ario.
   “You are really making me nervous,” Ario grunted out, wishing for Toharu to shut up.
   All three squads watched Goten ransack the pile, then Goten picked the Buster Sword. He would have preferred the Masamune, but it seemed that there was only one and was already held by the shaii. Testing, Goten weighed the huge and wide sword in his hand then swirled the sword by its hilt several times. He wasn’t very adept in fighting with this kind of sword, but he had held it several times. His brother had a big collection of swords and they used to spar together. He liked it. After his brother had passed away, not fearing the common opinion about swords, Goten made sword-fighting his hobby. There weren’t many he could train with, but there always were a few enthusiasts who sought him out themselves.
   Goten walked over to the shaii, who meanwhile had taken his jacket off, tossed it aside onto the asphalt and stood in his fighting stance. The two of them were almost of the same height, Goten a bit shorter because younger and the shaii shorter than an average Saiyan because of his genes. 
   As expected, the prince attacked first. Goten blocked the blade with his, diverted it aside and counterattacked.
   The Masamune’s long blade and its wide cutting range were going to be a problem, but Goten had known that beforehand. The prince was wielding the weapon like a real expert and now Goten’s only chance to at least catch up with him was with speed and agility against the longer seconds that took to wield that much longer weapon. Besides, the Buster Sword weighed more, which increased its crushing ability but required more of his strength and he knew that if the fight lasted too long, he would get tired all too soon.
   The metal clashed and sparks spilled all around the fighting men. The prince whipped his sword around and Goten jumped aside to avoid it, at the same time, lashing out at the shaii’s left side. The shaii drew his arm back to block Goten’s blade behind his back, quickly turned around and was just in time to block it once more as Goten charged at his head. 
   The brat was serious, the shaii noted, and he fought like a professional. The speed…no third-class had such speed. The kid was almost at par with him. He got a little worried as Goten suddenly separated his sword to get two blades and his attacks became even more efficient. The brat appeared to be also able to fight with both hands… Who the hell had taught him that? He wasn’t even supposed to know how to hold this kind of sword!
   Toharu’s eyes widened as both swordsmen started going at an amazing speed, the swords clashing, the metal straining against metal. He was hardly able to follow the two and the rest of the second-classes just stared against themselves catching only glimpses of the sweeping action.
   Goten ducked, rolled over, and his boot swept the shaii off his feet. One of Goten’s blades slashed at the ground where the prince’s head had been just a millisecond ago. The shaii jumped to his feet and blew several lavender hair strands which had gotten loose from his ponytail off his eyes. Slowly, the two men circled each other.
   Crossing his blades against him, Goten stopped the Masamune’s attack to seize the blade with two of his. He quickly lowered the shaii’s sword to the ground. Goten’s foot struck the shaii on his chest with a loud thud and the blow tossed him several meters aside, leaving the Masamune next to Goten who kicked it aside and charged back at the prince.
   The shaii jumped to his feet, flipped over to avoid Goten’s blade and decided that he had had enough of this. While Goten was chasing him through the field, the shaii had finally reached the Masamune again. Goten paid for his mistake immediately. He yelped when the shaii’s sword clashed against his with such strength that it made his hand numb. The prince’s speed had increased, too. Goten gnashed his teeth in anger realizing that he had only been toyed with.
   Goten ducked the sword that swept above his head, but the next second it knocked the blade off from his left hand. He blocked the Masamune with his right, but the sheer force of the blow sent him staggering back. He blocked the next attack again but his sword was too slow to deflect the next one.
   The shaii retracted his sword from Goten’s with ki charged arm that had blocked the blade. There was a slight cut in the uniform and a thin streak of blood was running down it, the droplets splashing against the asphalt hissing with heat. The man’s wide eyes met his, and the shaii immediately regained his presence of mind. Even if he had been sure that Goten would be able to block his sword as he did, he knew he had gone too far in the fervor of the fight.
   “You okay?” the shaii leaned over Goten who had dropped his sword to the ground but was still emanating a strong ki field around him, the air around them growing hotter with each passing second. 
   The least Shaii Vegeta Trunks expected was a punch to his face. It was not enough to knock him off his feet, but it was enough to make him stagger back and drop to one knee.
   Stunned into inability to move, the prince stared up at Goten’s furious visage and watched all color slowly drain from the boy’s face as his mind caught up with whom he had hit. For a moment there Goten seemed to be sure he was going to be cut in half.
   The shaii’s hand cupped his jaw to check if nothing was broken then the prince stood up and smacked his hand cheerfully on Goten’s shoulder. “We’ll do this someday again – it was fun,” he said and went to pick up his jacket lying at a distance. He stopped on his way and turned around. “Oh, you’ll be punished for powering up without permission.”
   Goten dropped his ki almost to zero. The squads still staring at him in deadly silence, he started removing his jacket to check his wound. After taking a look at it, it appeared that it wasn’t anything big, just a stripe of cut skin, which was already healing. Goten thought about the medical bay but deciding that it would be useless, started to take off his undershirt.
   “You fucking idiot, I can’t believe you hit the prince! Are you fucking suicidal?! What did he say? What did he say? –Is he gonna expel you? Kill you?”
   Entangled in his undershirt, Goten turned his head to look at Toharu. “He said I would be punished for raising my ki. What is the punishment for raising one’s ki?” He continued to struggle with his undershirt.
   Toharu froze in the same position as he had been standing in earlier, his mouth still open after spilling questions at Goten. Beside him, Ario stood looking at Goten with saucer-sized eyes.
   “What?” Goten asked after finally getting his undershirt off. Bare-chested, he started wrapping it around his wounded arm.
   Toharu closed his mouth slowly. He blinked once, twice. “For raising your ki?” he blinked for the third time.
   “It’s a fine of a thousand credits and ten days of the kitchen duty,” Ario drawled. “But seriously… Is that all? You only get ten days of kitchen duty and a fine for almost punching the prince’s lamps out?”
   “Amatachinna and Krameran, get back into the fucking formation!” the shaii barked from the opposite side of the field. 
   “Yes, sir!”
   “Goten, you’ll join as soon as you take care of that arm of yours!” The shaii looked in the direction the two aforementioned Saiyans were heading in. “You, two idiots, do not belong to the seventh squad! You are gonna get it if I see you switching places again!”
   “He remembers our surnames… And even the squads we belong to.  Why?” Ario drawled under his breath while walking back to his squad.
   “He had better kept all of that to himself,” Toharu muttered after seeing several gazes concentrate on him in disbelief. He could already hear the soft whistle of the fertile wind in the savars’ brains as they were asking themselves if he really was THAT Toharu Amatachinna who was five times the champion of martial arts in prep and paramilitary schools. Earlier, his surname, pronounced among over hundreds of others had not sounded exceptional, and the savars who knew did not pay much attention to him, now all of that went to waste. 
   Toharu went back to the fifth squad and Ario came back to the sixth. The shaii noticed that it came to all three squads as a surprise that Amatachinna and Krameran were in different squads. Unbelievable.
   His undershirt snuggly wrapped around his arm, Goten returned to the seventh squad and watched the shaii demonstrate the most primitive movements and techniques while the men repeated them. Goten shortly wondered what he should do because he found it ridiculous to repeat all that which he had already known when he was eight years old. Then his eyes met the shaii’s again and the older man motioned with his head to the men around him. Missing the meaning, Goten looked around him, but then realized that the prince was telling him to teach his comrades. 
   Goten wanted to get paid for the extra job, but knew better and kept his mouth shut. Besides, he knew that it would be he the one who would pay the price for daring to meddle with the prince. He wasn’t happy about it. But in reality there was nothing he could do. Silently, he had already resigned to two years of this.
   The shaii watched Goten showing patiently to one member of his squad how to block the attack from the left side for the fifth time. The guy was hopeless with a sword and it seemed that he would rather injure himself than learn something useful. Finally, Goten left the man and went to the other who was more successful.
   The prince thought that he was going to die – a month with these guys would drive him mad. Sadly, Goten had no warrant for teaching other people or at least some document proving that he was capable of sword fighting. That would be so convenient…
   “You’ve cut me!” a sudden Toharu’s yell coming from the fifth squad shook the base. “I said not to wave it about, you moron! I may be bad at this, but you are a real loser! Why the fuck wave it around if you hold it for the first time in your life?! I’m gonna get you pay for my uniform, you asshole! And why-”
   “Toharu Amatachinna, shut the fuck up!”
   “Yes, sir!” Toharu saluted scowling, being sure that the shaii couldn’t see that from afar.
   “Shaii Vegeta, sir?” Goten’s voice rang through the air. He blinked, unsure as the prince’s eyes shot to him. He was going to get it for this but his life was already screwed one way or another. “May I suggest using wooden swords or simple sticks for a start? Otherwise they’ll just cut themselves up. Umm…” he kept himself from stepping back as the prince’s eyes darkened.
   “Positive,” the shaii nodded. “Now get them from the second armory!” He turned away to mumble under his breath about how fucked up the whole training was and how he had expected them to be at least of average level and how screwed up the preparatory school system was.
   Goten looked around. He had no idea where the second armory was. Neither did he know where the first was, for that matter. Seeing indecision in Goten’s eyes, Kyon sneaked up to him.
   “Go all the way past the first barracks and med bay, turn right and go all the way to the last building. It will be the second armory,” he muttered.
   “Thanks,” Goten nodded and set off.
   Soon Goten brought an armful of wooden swords. There were not enough of them, far from it, so they had to take turns but the men felt much more assured and the real training started, the yelps and winces flowing around. Toharu soon had his head swollen, Ario had almost killed his opponent and Kyon was running around the squads to avoid crossing the swords. Goten wondered if today they would learn anything useful.
   The training finally ended, everyone was dismissed and went in the direction of the canteen. Kyon, Ario and Toharu caught up with Goten.
   “That was quite a sight!” Kyon commented. “I don’t really like swords, but that fight was something to behold. And punching the prince… Hell, you’ll be famous now. Or infamous…”
   Goten just grunted something out.
   Ario and Toharu just followed Goten silently. They had many questions but preferred to talk with Goten alone. Considering Goten would talk at all.
   Their eyes snapped to Goten as the younger man swayed. Toharu’s hand shot to catch Goten by his arm to prevent him from smashing face first onto the asphalt. Goten collapsed to his knees.
   “Hey, hey,” Toharu shook the pale, dazed man.
   Goten raised his blurry eyes to look at the swimming faces before him. He winced and grabbed his head as the aching increased. Screeching noises fell all around him, making him nauseous. His universe exploded with the unbearable pain behind his eyes. 
   Ario shook the unresponsive man fruitlessly then simply scooped him off the asphalt and turned to the medical bay. 
   His head was killing him again. Goten groaned and raised his hand to rub at his forehead. He massaged his temples to at least reduce some of the pain. His efforts were futile, the pressing behind his eyes only increased and he felt himself slipping out of consciousness again.
   When he came to, the pain was still there, but Gohan was visiting him. His brother was sitting at his bed and looking at him. 
   Goten blinked, trying to shift the white mist from his eyes to better see Gohan’s face. He couldn’t tell if Gohan was smiling or frowning at him. Gohan was saying something, but through the humming in his ears, Goten wasn’t able to hear anything. Goten reached his hand for his brother, motioning to come closer. But then he realized that nothing was coming out from his mouth. He could feel his lips moving but there was no sound. Or maybe there was but he couldn’t hear anything.
   Then Gohan started fading, his contours being swallowed by the white mist around them. Goten felt himself panic and the pressure in his head increased. He extended his arm to try to grab Gohan. The fabric in his hand felt real, warmed by flesh and Goten felt calmer even when pain exploded into stars behind his eyes.
   The shaii glared at the seventh squad after calling out the surname Bardock nobody responded.
   “Hikaru!” the prince turned to Kyon who this time was sitting in the second row together with Toharu and Ario. “Where’s that accursed roommate of yours?”
   “Sir!” Kyon jumped to his feet. “He’s at the medical bay, sir!”
   The prince didn’t miss the blank looks Toharu and Ario gave him. Confused, the shaii, looked at the list of surnames again. He surely hadn’t wounded the man that badly. Maybe those elites again…? His blue-eyed gaze rose back to Kyon again. 
   “What happened to him?”
   “He collapsed yesterday and is still unconscious, sir!”
   The shaii nodded shortly then started the lecture.

   The shaii rocked his chair back and forth while thinking. Goten being sent to medical bay was disturbing him. He raised his head as the shyu entered the office.
   “They are here, sir,” the shyu said, giving a quick bow. He moved away from the door and let in the three elites after the shaii had nodded. Then the shyu left the office and closed the door behind him.
   “Sir,” the three elites saluted.
   “Sit down,” the shaii motioned at the empty chairs against his table. “I called you out because of your complaint against Goten Bardock, Toharu Amatachinna and Ario Krameran.” He stood up and brought the same documents to the elites who had sat down. 
   “I withheld the demand to punish these men and I urge you to withdraw your complaints against them,” the shaii said after the elites took the documents.
   “On which basis, sir?” one of the elites asked.
   “The basis is that I know that you three are at fault and I’m not going to discuss it any further,” the shaii shrugged. He came back to sit at his table. “Dismissed.”
   The elites stared at him. Then the same man who had questioned slowly got to his feet. “There’s no way we’d withdraw the charges, “sir”,” he sneered at the honorific. “And if you don’t like something, “sir”, you’d better talk with Fuujima Horuisa. And I’m sure as hell will make you explain yourself to him!” he smirked.
   “Ah, and it might be your daddy?” the shaii smiled. He stood up, too. He was in a very bad mood today and the elites trying to mess around with him made him want to strangle them. 
   His face emanating the vibes of a pouncing tiger, the shaii walked over to the three men. “Horuisa, do you always run to your daddy when your pants are full?” he looked at the elite who had threatened him.
   “You are so dead, you half-breed!” the elite yelled. “You won’t even get to blink as you’ll be out! And I’ll make sure that you’d never get any job in the government! What’s your fucking surname?!”
   “Vegeta. Care to fuck with me?” the prince grinned unpleasantly.
   The three elites went pale. There was a quick swish of air and Horuisa found himself stuck halfway in a wall, his vision going blank for several seconds and there was the taste of blood in his mouth. 
   “Let me give a piece of advice, newbies,” the shaii went back to his chair and sat down, leaning back. “Always, always check before threatening someone. As for “half-breed”…” the prince looked at Horuisa who was gathering himself from the floor, his nose broken and bleeding heavily, the plaster crumbling around him. “You are eliminated from Hataro Officer Training School. And if I ever hear about you again, I’ll fuck up your life in general.” He gave the same smile that struck as a lightning.
   “You two will be accused of giving spurious evidence,” he turned to the other two elites. “Hell, and to think that I wanted to do this calmly and nicely…” He shook his head. “Get the hell out of here.”
   “Sir, yes, sir!” 
   The elites were gone in a second. The shaii leaned over the list of all ten squads of the first-years and crossed Horuisa’s surname out.

   Goten sat up in his bed carefully and looked around. He was at the medical bay again, alone; the other five beds were empty. He had no idea how he had gotten here, but he could presume. He could remember his fight with the prince, but he also remembered that he hadn’t been injured badly.
   His excruciating migraine attacks were very rare, but he had had them for as long as he could remember. Everyone in his family had them: his father and Gohan, too. His recent concussion and then quite a lot of physical exercise while battling the prince must have triggered it again.
   It was evening outside, the last sunrays fading, retreating back through the window to leave the ward surrounded by shadows. Exhaling loudly, Goten leaned on the iron headboard. Then he turned to look at his bandaged arm. He started unwrapping the bandages. As expected, there was not a scratch underneath. There were only several curdled blood streaks crisscrossing the skin. He healed fast, even in comparison to other Saiyans. 
   Goten tossed the bandages onto the chair that stood next to his bed then he leaned back on the headboard again. His head didn’t hurt anymore and he felt fine, except for being hungry.
   Goten wondered how much time had passed. He raised his head at the noise behind the door then saw the medic who had previously treated him enter the ward. The man looked at him, retrieved a notebook from his pocket, walked over to the bed and sat down on the nearby chair.
   “You seem to love it here…” The doctor pulled out a pen from another pocket. “Any idea what it was?”
   Goten shrugged.
   “It was some kind of very strong migraine attack. I checked your data and it seems that your father had the same. Why isn’t it on your case-history?” the doctor asked. “Shall I report it to your authorities or will you talk?”
   “I have them from time to time,” Goten said resignedly. “They are very rare and as it has never happened that I’d lose consciousness during school, I have never been sent to the doctors for a thorough check.”
   “Actually, it’s perfectly seen on the pattern of your brain waves,” the doctor said, putting his notebook and pen away into the seemingly endless pockets of his white robe. “Either somebody was too lazy to put it down or there’s another reason. How much did you pay to keep it off your records?”
   “I didn’t know this and I have no idea why somebody would do it,” Goten said. He was surprised. He had always thought that nobody knew about it because he didn’t tell anyone. But now he was getting accused. Not to mention this was very suspicious.
   The doctor gave him a very skeptical look but then only shrugged. “Do you feel any pain or any other obvious discomfort?” he asked.
   Goten shook his head. “No, I’m fine. I think I can simply go back to my barracks – after it passes, it doesn’t repeat for quite a while. Can I get something to eat?” he asked. 
   The doctor nodded. He got up from the chair and turned to the door. Goten’s voice stopped him before he reached out for the door handle. 
   “Has…has anybody visited me while I was out of it?” 
   The doctor turned back to him. “You should ask at the reception.”
   “Ah. Okay. Thanks,” Goten nodded.
   After eating his meal, Goten left the medical bay and went straight for his barracks. He had to do the laundry and he wasn’t sure what to do with the uniform that had gotten cut during the fight with the prince. Very likely he would be told to sew it up or buy a new one and when was he supposed to start kitchen duty?
   Goten opened the door to his room and was met by surprised Kyon’s eyes. 
   “Hey,” Goten nodded, walking over to his bed and dumping his slashed jacket on it. He plopped onto his bunk and started taking his boots off.
   Kyon dropped his pen onto the letter he had been writing. “Gods, Goten, you should be at the med bay. Toharu said you’d still been unconscious when he visited you.” He got up from the chair and approached Goten who now was digging in the closet for his clothes.
   “I’m fine. And where are Roland and Daram?” Goten asked, taking a new set of uniform.
   “They aren’t back yet. Actually they will be away for quite some time – five squads of second-years went away for field maneuvers. I think Daram said something about a week of them.” Kyon stood besides Goten, watching the younger male fold the clothes.
   Images of swamps, mosquitoes, trenches and heavy backpacks swam in Goten’s head. He frowned at the pile of clothes he had gathered on Daram’s bed. 
   “Do you have a sewing kit?”
   “Huh? Oh. Yeah,” Kyon nodded. “Do you want to sew the cut up sleeve?”
   Goten nodded. Trust Kyon to have everything. The guy was a walking treasure. Goten could bet he also had an apron, woolen slipper-socks, a warm sweater and a mop. Just in case.
   Thanking for the sewing kit and scooping up his clothes from Daram’s bed, he turned to Kyon to say that he was off to the showers and shot through the door.
   Kyon stared at the door for several seconds then came back to writing the letter to his mother:
   Hey Mom,
    How are you doing? How is Kiahu? Hug that that little nuisance for me and tell him that I miss him. Soon I’ll get paid, so I’ll send you some money.
    I’m doing fine. I’m a bit sore and haven’t had a decent sleep in quite some time, but otherwise everything is OK. I’m being careful around here, so please don’t worry about me. Two years won’t take long to pass and I’ll come back, just as I have promised you two.
    My roommates are being weirdos as usual, but Daram and Roland went off to the training in a swamp, so it’s peaceful here. Currently I’m being alone with Goten who has just come back from the med bay. He seems to be okay, even though he has spent several days there. During the time he has spent at this base, he has never done any training. I thought he’d just drop out of the school during the very first exam or stamina test, but after what I have recently witnessed, I don’t think so anymore.
    I know previously I said that Goten was a passive, peaceful and a quite clumsy guy, but it’s becoming clear that it isn’t so. I’ve overheard some things and besides, several days ago he and the Prince (it appeared that in our base there’s Vegeta Trunks working as a shaii!) had a swordfight to demonstrate the efficiency of it. There is no way Goten is a second-class. I don’t know what’s going on around here, but things are getting really interesting. Yeah, I know, I’ll try to keep out of it. Whatever it is.
    Well, I think that’s all. Hope to hear from you soon. 
    P.S. Just don’t think of sending any packets with food or boxers! The food gets eaten even before it reaches me and I’m getting weird looks from guys while wearing those boxers; Goten has been looking at me as if I have a couple of screws loose. If you want to send something, send some books or something that can’t be eaten or sold and isn’t popular here.

   In the showers, Goten scrubbed his skin clean off blood and sweat. He slowly rubbed the special shampoo into his tail, washed it off. His tail was nearly healed now, one more day and it was going to be like new. He wanted to wash his hair but then remembered that he had only short stubs, so, being too lazy to bother, used the same shampoo for his hair, too.
   He still wasn’t that used to seeing himself with only stubs instead of his usual spikes. Shaving his hair had made him look even younger. He didn’t particularly like this. It just made him look more vulnerable than most and attracted unwanted attention.

   After quickly drying himself off with a towel, he dressed in his new uniform. He came back to his room to gather the rest of his dirty clothes for washing. Kyon had told him that the only Laundromats were near officers club but those were controlled by elites who took additional payment from those who wanted to use them. Deciding that his life was difficult enough as it was, Goten returned to the showers. Once back there, he took one of the basins lying around. He blinked at a chain that rattled across the broken and dirty tiles while he was dragging the basin towards the tap in one of the corners. It was chained to one of the water pipes.
   Goten pushed the basin back across the tiles and under the window where it was lighter than in the rest of the showers and filled the basin with water. Except for the jacket, he chucked his dirty clothes into it then threw in a bar of soap after them. After that, he turned the jacket inside out and took the sewing kit. He would have preferred to do this in his room, but he presumed that, after seeing his pitiful attempts at sewing, Kyon would offer to do it for him. And it was already enough that he had borrowed the sewing kit from the guy. He did not like to feel indebted.
   No one came in while Goten was sewing the sleeve, and Goten considered himself lucky. He lifted the jacket to inspect his work. It did not look that good. The fabric near the seam was somewhat shriveled and crumpled. Will have to do. To buy a new one would be a waste. Goten threw the jacket into the basin with the other clothes.
   After staring at the basin for a few seconds, he started taking his uniform off. He had washed clothes with his hands only a few times in his life. He figured he would not stay dry.
   Once his clean clothes were safe on the windowsill, bare-chested, only in his underwear, he straddled the basin and started washing. He decided that in case he were told that his sewing did not meet any standards, the jacket would make a fine cloth – he had wanted to wash his room since he had set his foot in there – not only did it have an unpleasant smell of a hundred socks unwashed, it was also infested with some life form that was continuously biting him during the night.
   He was halfway done when first visitors to the showers started gathering. He received a few curious glances but nobody paid him much attention, thus Goten was done with his laundry and carried his dripping clothes back upstairs into his room. The room was empty, Kyon away to possibly post the letter he had been writing previously. Goten hung his clothes on chairs and table to dry and opened the window to air the room. He hoped that it was really a week the second-year training was going to last, because if Roland returned, he would find his clothes scattered all over the ground.

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