(Disclaimer – I don't own these characters, the setting, the timeline, the series, or anything else of the sort. They are the property of Akira Toriama and a whole bunch of corporations – I'm just borrowing them for a while.)

Scrapbook

"Gohan-san…" a soft call trailed down the corridors of Capsule Corporation.

Gohan smiled, easing out of the kitchen chair carefully so as not to bump the table. Last time he had done that, the unfortunate bit of furniture had gone sailing across the room and slammed into an inconveniently placed wall. Bulma hadn't appeared to be greatly bothered; she had laughed it off and said that it was nothing compared to what Vegeta had been known to do to her house. The service robots had cleaned the room in a matter of minutes. Even so, he hated to cause his older friend so much trouble. "I'm down here, Trunks," he called back, finally edging out away from the table.

The short, lavender-haired boy walked into the room. Trunks was nearly ten now, and already he was beginning to look more like a warrior and less like a child. His eyes were as clear and bright as ever, but it seemed to Gohan that the youthful enthusiasm in them had been tempered by more experiences than any ten years should have to carry. Gohan knew the feeling.

"Gohan-san," Trunks repeated, sounding almost hesitant, "can you tell me what the other warriors were like?"

The older man blinked once, slightly taken aback by this question though he had known it would come eventually. He briefly considered playing dumb to buy himself some time to think, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to stall. "Sure, Trunks-kun, what do you want to know?"

Trunks looked up with an earnestness that would have been at home on any child's face. "I want to know everything."

Gohan swallowed once, managing not to make it sound like a gulp. "Ano…what did you have in mind specifically? 'Everything' would take a lot of time, you know."

The boy was temporarily brought up short by this question. His brow furrowed slightly in deep thought, and he stared at the floor as he was want to do when he was thinking. "You know, what they looked like, how they acted, what they did for fun…that kind of stuff."

A relieved grin split Gohan's face. "Oi, I was afraid you wanted to know our life story or something. Sure, I can tell you all about them. Come on." The man turned purposefully, stepping out the door without so much as a second thought.

"Where are we going?" Trunks asked, nearly skipping to keep even with the larger warrior's ground-eating strides.

Gohan glanced down at the boy and adjusted his speed a little to compensate for his smaller friend's shorter legs. "You know where my kaasan lives, right?"

"Hai, but…" Trunks blinked as Gohan flung the door to Capsule Corporation open. The boy was temporarily blinded by the sunlight that streamed through the opened portal. He stood still for a long minute until his eyes adjusted.

When he could see again, the first thing he saw was Gohan pulling up in a standard Capsule aircar. "Hop in."

* * *

"Why'd we have to come all the way out here?" Trunks asked, glancing around the Son's small (compared to what he was used to, anyway) living room.

Gohan, who was digging through a somewhat-disreputable cardboard box, looked up at his companion. "Otousan used to have this camera. He drove everybody crazy with it. He always picked the absolute worst times to snap pictures. I thought it was going to get him killed sometimes. Some of the ones he took were pretty good, though, so we kept them."

Dust was flying around the room now. Trunks wrinkled his nose a little, trying not to sneeze. "What kinds of things did he take pictures of?"

A slightly nostalgic smile curved Gohan's lips. "He mostly took pictures of people. Some of the guys didn't really appreciate having their pictures taken very much; in fact, Piccolo and Vegeta really hated it. Ah! Here we go!" The young man drew out a tattered photo album, and his eyes grew sad for a moment.

"Gohan-san, are you okay?" Trunks asked,

"Hai, I'm fine, Trunks." Gohan seemed to have shaken off whatever had been bothering him. He took a deep breath and blew most of the dust from the cover of the ancient volume. Then he sat down cross-legged on the floor. Trunks was quick to follow suit.

Still smiling softly, Gohan began to flip through the pages. "Hey, look, here's Kulilyn!"

Trunks leaned over and squinted. Though he tried, he couldn't repress a small giggle. "Isn't he kind of short?" he asked, hoping he hadn't offended his friend.

"Hai, he was. That always bothered him, you know? He was my Otousan's best friend practically his whole life. He…was my friend, too. He always used to say that we could do anything together."

The melancholy glow had returned to the elder warrior's eyes. Gohan sat for a few heartbeats, staring at the picture, then shook his head as if he was coming out of some sort of daydream and flipped the page. "And here's just about everybody. Look, there's Yamcha. He and your mom went out for a while; most of us figured that they'd get married someday."

Trunks tilted his head to one side, resembling a bird. "Who's the guy with the three eyes?"

"That's Tenshinhan. He was a great fighter. You see that little white guy on his shoulder? That was his best friend, Choatsu. The two of them were just about inseparable…they even died together…" Gohan's face drew slightly as if in pain, the fine lines around his eyes becoming slightly more pronounced.

"Why were you all there at once?" the lavender-haired boy asked.

Gohan turned his head slightly so that he could smile down at his younger friend. "You know, I really can't remember. I think it was a reunion; we tried to have one of those every once in a while, just to stay in touch." The man looked again at the picture and broke into a wide grin. "Hey, Trunks, look at the background. You see that guy by the picnic table who looks like he's arguing with your mother? That's Vegeta."

The boy leaned over eagerly, his eyes coming to rest on the Saiya-jin prince…his father. The man that he longed more than anything else to meet stood stiffly, his posture hinting at tension. Remarkably, he was wearing a plain dress shirt and slacks instead of his usual battle armor. His ebony hair swept upward in a way that would have looked ridiculous on most people, but something about his stance, his carriage, his glare, made it fit. In the picture, the warrior's arms were crossed, his eyes flashing with something…outrage? Anger?…and his kaasan, so much younger, stood with a nearly-identical expression on her face, hands on her hips. "Did they fight a lot?"

Gohan chuckled softly. "Oh boy, did they ever. This was right before the 'throwing things' stage and right after the 'cold glare' stage. Right here, he's more than a little upset at your mom for dragging him to the reunion, and he's even more upset that she won't let him near the food."

Trunks managed a small smile, then his face took on a wondering expression. "Where were you?"

The dark-haired man closed his eyes. "I was probably talking to Piccolo-san." Gohan's hands trembled a little as he turned the page. His eyes opened slowly, and he looked down at the next photograph. One corner of his lips lifted slightly. "Oi, didn't know we kept this one."

Trunks leaned over curiously and, in spite of his efforts, he couldn't suppress a startled gasp. So this was Piccolo. Certainly, he had heard that Piccolo was an alien, but he had not been prepared for this. The being was built like a human, but he was bald. Two long antennae protruded from his emerald-hued forehead, framed by two gracefully pointed ears. In this particular photo, a wild-haired boy of about seven had his arms thrown about the Namekse-jin's neck. The alien's eyes were widened slightly in surprise, but a small smile was playing about his lips. One massive, four-fingered hand rested gently on the child's back.

"Gohan-san," Trunks asked, looking up, "who's the kid?"

The youth was somewhat surprised to see his that older companion had closed his eyes. His head was bowed…even his hair seemed to droop. "That was me, Trunks-kun."

Vegeta's son blinked. "Really?"

"Hai. Piccolo-san and I were very close." Gohan flipped another page, and Trunks was relieved to see his mood lift somewhat. The next picture was almost a repeat of the one before, except that the Namekse-jin was now looking directly at the camera, his prominent brow ridges pulled low in a venomous glare. His upper lip was pulled back to reveal one gleaming white fang. Trunks looked up at Gohan questioningly.

"Hey, I told you. Piccolo hated having his picture taken. He'd just realized that 'tousan had his camera, and he was probably pretty upset that he'd been caught being 'soft.' I really thought he was gonna kill my dad that time." Gohan was smiling again, though the pained look hadn't quite left his eyes. "Hey, look, here's your 'tousan again. This is the picture that he got upset over."

In this one, Vegeta was standing amidst broken pottery. His spiked hair was full of dirt. Two or three cheery yellow flowers were sticking to his shirt. His expression was one of complete and utter shock, one brow slightly raised, a vein twitching on his forehead. Trunks felt the corners of his own mouth lift. "What happened?"

Gohan laughed. "Do you remember when I mentioned the 'throwing things' stage? Well, he said something that made your 'kaasan really mad, and he was standing about an arm's length away at the time, so…"

Trunks giggled. "I can see why he'd be a little bit angry."

Finally, Gohan flipped yet another page. Trunks saw that this was the last picture. It featured a man with the trademark Saiya-jin hair, but that was where the alien traits ended. His eyes were closed, and a goofy grin was stretched across his face. Vegeta and Piccolo were in this picture as well; the new man had an arm draped companionably over either warrior's shoulders. Piccolo was caught in the act of rolling his eyes, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Vegeta looked outraged, but seemed to be too shocked to do much at the moment.

"Was this planned?" Trunks asked, laughing a little at the contrasting expressions.

Gohan was laughing as well. "Naw. It just kinda happened, y'know? Vegeta and Piccolo had about had enough of his photography, and they were chewing him out. 'Tousan laughed it off and said he wouldn't take any more pictures. Then he looked up and saw that Kulilyn was standing on the picnic table in front of him with the camera, so he struck a pose."

"What happened after this one?" the boy questioned.

Gohan, still laughing, shook his head. "Well, Piccolo took off after Kulilyn as soon as he saw the flash. I don't think either of them knew that Kulilyn could fly that fast. Your dad started pounding on 'tousan, who was laughing too hard to defend himself. Yamcha and your mom were trying to figure out a way to get close enough to break up the fight without getting clobbered, and Ten and I went after Piccolo and Kulilyn in case Piccolo actually caught him. He could have, you know, if he'd really been trying. Needless to say, kaasan and I saw to it that the camera stayed at home for the other reunions."

The lavender-haired youth shook his head slowly. "You all seem so…happy. Do you think that people in this time will ever be able to have fun like that again?"

Gohan shrugged, placing the old volume back into the box with a kind of reverence. "That's what we're trying to do, Trunks-kun. That's why we're fighting the jinzounigen."

"Do you think we can win?" The boy's voice contained a sort of desperate hope, and his eyes were wide and pleading.

The man seemed to consider this for a long time. His head was bowed, his eyes were closed. Finally, Gohan looked up, smirking in a way reminiscent of his old mentor.

"Sure we can, Trunks-kun. We'll win sooner or later, some way or other. That's the way things have always been with us."

"Do you really think so?" Trunks asked again.

"Hai. I know it." As a silent addition, Gohan thought, I just hope I'm still around to see it…