Chapter One: Curiosity

"Good morning Mr Brief! I have your coffee here, black no sugar as you requested."
"Triumphe International have just sent through an invoice for the order we received in January, they said we haven't paid it yet but I'm sure it went straight to accounts, would you mind calling their Chief Executive Officer?"
"These five contracts need to be reviewed before your conference with the President of Takahashi Corporation at nine o'clock."
"A phone call has just come through Mr Brief, he asked for you specifically."

Being the President of a multi-national corporation had not become any easier over the years, especially on a Monday morning while concurrently nursing Saturday's hangover. He had been running the corporation since he was eighteen. That was eighteen years ago and he often wondered where the time had gone. The days had melted seamlessly into weeks, the weeks into months, and the months into years...and just like on his very first day, he had barely had time to sit down before a small group of employees had burst into his office and accosted him. He lifted the steaming mug of coffee to his lips, took a large gulp and set it down gently on the glass coaster in front of him. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

"Thank you for the coffee, Reina. Please make sure the catering arrangements have been made for lunch tomorrow. Yumi, we did pay that account. Please discuss your concerns with the Chief Financial Officer as that is his area of responsibility. Sakura, I signed four of the contracts last night but the fifth needs to be revised and I have left instructions which need to be given to the Contract Manager." Three of the four women in his office bowed and left immediately to complete their assigned tasks. Trunks slowly opened his eyes. A young woman of short stature and nervous disposition remained. "Ryoko, tell whoever it is that I'll call them back later."
"But Mr Brief, he says it's urgent."
"It can't be that urgent, who is it?"
"It's Professor Son from Capsule Corporation Private School."

Trunks smiled for the first time that morning. "Put the call through, and please shut the door on your way out." Ryoko bowed and hurried across the room, the latch gently clicking into place behind her. Moments later the phone on his desk started to ring. Trunks picked up the receiver and swung his chair around to face the window behind him. It was a beautiful spring morning. The city was bathed in sunlight and a gentle breeze tugged at the cherry blossoms of the trees lining the streets, encouraging them to dance. "Hello Gohan, it's been awhile."
"Hey Mr President," a warm and familiar voice greeted Trunks. "How's things?"
"Busy," Trunks replied, taking another sip of coffee. "How can I help you today?"
"I was wondering if you were able to have someone bring Videl's necklace to me at work? She left it at Bulma's party on Saturday night. She arranged with Bulma to pick it up herself from her office today but she can't make it now. I'd come and get it myself but we've had five staff call in sick today and I'm covering extra classes..."
"...not a problem," Trunks interrupted. Gohan's lengthy explanation was too much for his recovering brain at that time of the morning. He had expected the caffeine to work its magic by now. "I have a conference this morning so I'll swing by the school around three."
"Thanks, Trunks. Appreciated. I'm in the top floor of North Building. Room 310."
"See you there."
The call terminated at Gohan's end of the line followed by a gentle hum. Trunks exhaled a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and placed the phone back on the receiver. His eyes wandered to the face of the watch on his left wrist. It was only ten to nine. Six hours to burn.

He rose from his desk and made his way out of his office. Sitting at the other side of the door was Ryoko, who was furiously typing a memo. "I'm leaving the office straight after the conference, Ryoko. Anybody who calls to speak to me personally can call back tomorrow, no diversions to my mobile phone."
"Yes, Mr President. Does that also include calls from...?"
"Yes," he interrupted sharply. Ryoko winced at his tone and bowed her head.
"Leave it to me, Mr President. Enjoy your day, sir."
"Thanks Ryoko, you too." He entered the elevator and softly pushed the button for the floor below, leaning heavily against the wall after the doors closed behind him. He wasn't sure what had possessed his mother to hire someone who was such a nervous wreck, but he was glad she had seen through Ryoko's jumpy nature and immense dislike of marginally raised voices. Despite her poor interviewing skills, Bulma had seen Ryoko for the hard working, fiercely loyal and completely reliable person that she was. And she really was reliable. Reliable to the point of fielding calls from his own girlfriend so that he could get through a business day in peace. The sound of the elevator shuddering to a halt interrupted his train of thought. He exited and made his way across the granite floor to the open door of his mother's office.

Trunks knocked on the door before entering. His eyes scanned the room. Paperwork was strewn haphazardly over the carpet and piled on the large desk by the window. To the right of the pile sat a woman with turquoise hair, tapping her lips with a ballpoint pen.
"Mother?" The woman raised her head to greet her visitor.
"Hey Trunks," she smiled warmly, running across the carpet and pulling her son close for a hug. Although they worked in the same building only one floor apart they rarely seemed to see each other. She pulled away from the hug, stroking her son's arm tenderly. "I didn't expect to see you today. Don't you have a meeting soon?"
"Yeah, something like that," he sighed. "I'll go and check how the set up is looking shortly. What are you working on?"
"More contracts," she sighed, scurrying back to her desk. "My assistant was off sick last week and looks to be the same this week so I've had to read the lot. I sometimes forget how invaluable she is until she's not here."
"You should have said something to me," Trunks scolded, lowering himself into the chair opposite her. "Ryoko could have done all this, we haven't been busy this week."
"Oh I don't like to bother you, sweetheart," Bulma smiled as she initialled the contract she had just finished reading. "I did consider it, but I figured that I'd leave your evenings free for you to spend some more time with Miyuki instead."
"You shouldn't have," Trunks forced a smile.
"Anything for you," she replied, completely missing Trunks's displeased tone. "Y'know, I was hoping that you might seriously think about getting married this year."
Trunks uttered a low, uncomfortable laugh.
"I hadn't really thought about it."
"You're in your thirties now, Trunks...time's getting on for you."

"You're in your thirties now, Trunks...time's getting on for you." He remembered the first time she had said that to him. It was his thirtieth birthday.
"Time's just getting started for me, mother." His words were followed by a shot of vodka. His friends laughed and cheered, and his girlfriend at the time shook her head furiously. Carrie was an up-and-coming model with long, blonde hair and looks to die for. Getting married and bearing a child was definitely out of the question for her. When Trunks had met her she was struggling to find regular work in her chosen field. They began spending a lot of time together in public places, the paparazzi hot on their heels. Job offers began pouring in for her shortly afterwards. Ironically she broke up with him a few weeks after his birthday, citing that he was holding her back. She was twenty-two and needed to catch her big break now before she got too old. She had met a modelling scout claiming to have connections to Victoria's Secret and their elusive contracts. Although disappointed, he understood her need to take once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that were presented to her and let her go without a fuss.

He ran into Carrie four years later. He barely recognised her. Like all up-and-coming models, she had been-and-gone. Her formerly prized blonde tresses were frizzy and tied in a loose bun. She could clearly no longer afford nor fit her designer wardrobe and was accompanied by a small child who looked an awful lot like the modelling scout. The child whinged and cried in a pushchair beside her. The modelling scout did indeed have a legitimate client base, but not for the types of modelling work she had imagined being employed in. "Adult industry's the way in," he'd told her. She had blindly followed him to his casting couch...and once she had told him about the baby growing inside of her she was dropped like a hot potato. Now she lived in a small apartment in a not-so-nice area of town, even then her days were numbered as she hadn't been able to afford the rent. "Come over for a drink one day," she'd said. "My mother has my baby on Saturday nights." She flashed a smile of nicotine-stained teeth and twirled a loose curl around her finger. Trunks internally shuddered. Simple actions that were endearing on a formerly beautiful woman now had the complete opposite effect. He opened his mouth to reply when a female voice interrupted. "Are you ready to go, babe? Dinner reservations are at six, we don't want to be late." Carrie's jaw dropped. A tall, blonde woman with large blue eyes, doll lips and a navy Burberry coat slipped a manicured hand into Trunks', tilting her head and smiling sweetly. Trunks gave Carrie a sympathetic look, never replying to her invitation. He didn't need to. She already knew the answer. "Yes, let's go Miyuki. It was good to see you, Carrie."He inclined his head politely before turning to his new girlfriend and walking her back to the car. Carrie stood and watched the pair depart, jealousy coursing through every vein. She felt like she was looking into a portal to the past. That could have been her. That should have been her. As the couple reached the car, Miyuki snorted derisively.
"Who was that?"
"An old friend," he replied simply, sparing Carrie any more embarrassment than she was probably already feeling.
"An old friend, huh? Well, I can see why you don't spend time with her anymore."
"She's just fallen on hard times, Mi," he sighed. "Don't be so mean."
"Whatever," she replied, smoothing down her coat. "Let's go, if we don't leave now we'll get stuck in traffic and never make it on time. Are you ready?"

"Are you ready?"Trunks blinked, his consciousness flooding back to the present time. His mother gave him a peculiar look.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Your conference, it starts in a minute."
"Oh, right," Trunks hurriedly stood up, straightening his suit jacket. "I'd better go."
He turned to leave, then remembered what he had come to visit her for and turned back to face his mother. Bulma raised her eyebrow quizzically at her son.
"I almost forgot. Gohan asked me to deliver Videl's necklace after the conference. He said you had it here?"
Bulma pulled open the top drawer of her desk and passed Trunks a delicate gold chain. He pocketed it and made his way out of the room.
"Thanks Mum, I'll see you later."
"See you, honey," she replied, watching her son retreat. "Say hi to Gohan for me."

The conference had gone extremely well. Takahashi Senior was out of the country on other business so had sent his son Takahashi Junior in his place. Trunks had been in the corporate game a lot longer than his counterpart, so Capsule Corporation's products had been an easy sell...perhaps too easy. Trunks frowned. He had secretly hoped for more of a challenge. It had been awhile since he had had to really work to secure a deal. No matter, he had plenty of conferences to look forward to the following month.

Trunks walked briskly across the grounds of the school as he reflected on the conference. A large white building with ornate dragons sculpted into each side towered over him, the words 'North Building' shining proudly on a metal plaque on the door. He checked his watch: 2:55pm. Perfect. Class was almost over for the day so he wouldn't have to wait too long to for Gohan. He entered the building and made his way up the three flights of stairs to the top floor. As he made his way to the end of the corridor he frowned slightly. He couldn't hear Gohan's voice booming down the hall like he normally would. Instead, his ears were greeted with dulcet tones and the distinct tapping of high heels pacing across the floor. He reached the last classroom on the right. Room 310. The door was closed. A shiny gold plaque with 'Professor Son Gohan' etched neatly into the surface glinted in the afternoon light. This was definitely the right place. As the tapping came to an abrupt stop, a heightened sense of curiosity washed over him. Although Gohan was not on the other side of the door, he needed to know who was.

Author's Note

Thanks for having me, Fanfiction Family! It's great to be here. I've been reading here awhile and decided to give writing a go. I used to write avidly about fifteen years ago, back when all my work was saved to floppy disks. I've only started again in the last year and have found I'm not quite the wordsmith I used to be. The saying 'use it or lose it' definitely applies to writing. If you're a young writer my words of advice to you are: never stop. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, feel free to leave some feedback, it would be greatly appreciated!