Parchment thin layers of cotton are peeled off the frail woman by her cyan-haired friend's hands. Sticky-sweet is what unravels from the rags. They are a strata of synthetic and flesh, slow moving, and constantly dawdling. The younger friend pushes herself back against the wall. Her legs bent inward like curved bows, she places her fingertips in-between her lips. Her friend halts her advances.
"Chi Chi, you don't have to be nervous. How long have we known each other for?"
She forgot.
All these years were spent worrying about whether her son would still be alive after the next fight he would go rushing into. Her nights were filled with a cold endless bed that would keep her sleepless with memories of her late husband and child. She doesn't count years anymore. And when she does count, it is for the days of birthdays and anniversaries. It would be on these days that she would sit by markers stabbed in the soil, and have a picnic set up for no one to eat. And, here, right now, her only friend is filling the same bed that gave her frigid remembrances.
"Bulma, I...I don't know. I'm so sorry. You're the only one I have left, and I can't even remember how long we've been friends. And after everything you've done, everything you've risked. You took a chance, and Trunks is back. You shouldn't be here with me." Chi Chi buries her face in her hands, muffling her pain. Bulma's only response is to cover her widowed friend in her arms.
"Hey, it's alright. I don't have anywhere to go tonight. All the bad guys are gone thanks to Trunks, and all people have to do now is rebuild from this mess. We've both lost so much, Chi Chi. But we're still surviving." Bulma scoops her head down to level with Chi Chi as she presses her lips down onto her friend's, stressing their soft skin further as she gathers in Chi Chi's waist with her hands—closer to her own.
Chi Chi thinks back to how their encounters first started. It was during the time Trunks left in the time machine. Bulma would check up on Chi Chi, maybe for comfort, maybe out of pity. She wasn't sure. Everyone close to her had died, and the thought of Bulma letting her own son go on such a dangerous mission puzzled her. Wouldn't she have wanted to keep her son close and not make the same mistakes she had done with Gohan? But, they accomplished the impossible, and the world became a much safer place thanks to them. Even though it was too late for own family...
After burying Gohan, it seemed like there was no meaning to her life anymore. There would be days where she didn't have the will to even eat. What was the point? Even her dear father had passed on. What would she do now?
"You've still got me and Trunks, Chi Chi," she would remind her.
That day, she broke down crying in front of her only friend. She hadn't been outside for who knows how long. Bulma was the only company she would receive. There was no replacement for her lost family. But, Bulma's presence didn't hurt, either. And as bleak as her existence was, she really did appreciate Bulma's visits from time to time.
She eases into Bulma's embrace, and finds her own hands resting at the side of her friend's arms. Her head tilts to the side as she leans in closer to accept her friend's tender lips. The world doesn't seem so jagged and sharp anymore. At least, it wouldn't be, in this near future.