I really hate your smile.  You have no idea of just how close I come to wiping that rotten grin off your face with my fist every time I see it.  And that's every single day.  Every fucking day of my life, just about, you show up with that irrepressible grin better suited to a skull devoid of living tissue and dark-bright eyes that twist my gut until I need to throw up.  That's right - you make me sick, literally.

You give me nightmares too.  Actually, they'd probably be more nightmarish for you than for me.  Unless you happen to like the idea of having your heart ripped out of your chest and devoured with unholy glee by your best friend in the whole wide world... No?  Didn't think so.  Pity.

But then you never did like hurting people.  Fighting, yes, but not hurting people.  Heh, in some ways you're just as twisted as I am.  I guess you get it from your father, that strange combination of ferocity and naïve gentleness; Dende  knows I get it from mine.  The twisted personality, that is.  Must come with Saiyajin genes.  That, and power.

You've never really cared about that, have you?  Or - no, you just learned to shrug it off, didn't you?  You were the weakest of the strongest.  Not exactly an enviable position, but I would never have forgiven you if you became more.  Neither would my father.  I get that from him, too.  But you seemed resigned to it - at least when I fought 'fairly'.  Not that you ever did.  But you never realized, did you?

You always were as naïve as your father.  Alright, maybe not quite that bad, but still, you'd drive me up the wall at times.  So many times.  You're lucky you survived puberty more or less intact, do you know that?  Of course you wouldn't.  That's the point.  The point you don't get, the point I'm never going to get, it's all the same in the end.  You don't understand, so I'll never get it.  At least, not from you.

Want to know the strangest thing?  My father understands.

I guess that was a big difference between us, when we were growing up.  You had a brother who cared for you, who understood you.  I had a father who couldn't care less about me except when he was training me; but still, he was a father.  You were jealous of me for that - hell, you still are, I can tell, especially now your own father's gone again.  I was jealous of you, too.  I may have had a father, but your brother understood you, and cared for you.  My father understands me now.  He even cares, in his own way - I guess that means I'm one up on you, ne?

Face it, I've always been one better than you in everything: sparring, school, money, looks... You've always been pissed that the girls look at me first, haven't you?  With my appearance and my wealth I attract all those brainless beauties you adore so much, like a picnic lunch attracts flies.  Guess what -  I don't like flies, I never have.  I've always  found your taste in that area to be somewhat questionable.

Then again, mine's a hell of a lot worse.  I can't have who I want, so I'll get what I want, from whoever's willing.  My father understands.  He's willing, too.  So are a lot of other people out there.  You'd probably be surprised to know how many.  And what they're willing to do, to pay, to get what they want.

Want to know something funny?  There's something I want, something I need, far more than any of that, and I'm willing to give up just about anything to get it.  But do you know what?  It's something I can't buy or trade for, something I can't threaten or cajole anyone into giving.

I really hate that smile of yours, Goten.  But without it, without you, I'm barely half-alive.