Between Friends—
Rated: M (for obvious reasons)
Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ or anything related to the DragonBall franchise.
Summary: Another adulthood-esque fic. Identity crises & long talks.
Pairings: Trunks/Pan. Goten/Marron. Bra/Uub.
Note: Hi, this is my first DBZ-related fic and I doubt I'll ever figure out the plot completely. Writing as we go! (08/2016 Updates: new formatting and rewrites on previous chapters. All replied reviews & author notes have been posted on my Tumblr page. I just wanted to focus on the writing, please.)
CHAPTER 2
Late April | (Still) 259 Days Before
Trunks adjusted his faux-glasses once more, getting one last look at his and Pan's work. He let out a satisfied sigh as he admired the lights, the candles, the photographs, the flowers... He had to admit, he was pretty damn proud of himself. Of them, really.
Pan looked at the tall man beside her inquisitively. She then let out a snort that caused him to face her.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Those glasses," she smiled to herself. She felt his gaze still stuck on her and she chuckled a small laugh. "They just remind me of my dad, that's all."
He bit his inner cheek, not wanting to let his curiosity get the best of him again. So as usual, he let his arrogance do it.
"I look good, don't I?" he smirked, waggling his eyebrows too. He would've added a wink, but he felt it was a bit much.
Pan shook her head and rolled her eyes—but a slight smile came on her lips. Maybe it was because she knew Trunks better than most people, probably even better than his best friend (which was saying a lot considering that the two shared a single body from time to time). But Pan just knew better to let his false bravado get the best of her. How else would she had been his friend for so long?
As much as everyone perceived Trunks as a "rich playboy" who could have anything he wanted and probably did, she knew that wasn't the case.
The Trunks she knew was a person who loved his mom the most, copied the mannerisms of his father because he wanted the old man to be proud of him, and was one of his little sister's best friends when he didn't have to be.
The Trunks she knew was best friends with a poor boy who lived in a mountain village, took up a corporate job and intensive training satisfy both his parents, and routinely cut his shoulder-length hair to match his late grandfather's.
Her Trunks—the one she knew better than everybody—would rather play with his aging cats and stay at home, bugging his mother in her lab or sparring with his father, than be out flaunting his wealth and trying to impress people he didn't know or care for. (She knew that because Bulma called her to force him out of his room for events that were at his own house.)
He could act as cocky as he liked. She was buying it. In fact, she was a bit amused by it.
Trunks blushed, but caught himself before she noticed. He put his head up high and crossed his arms like his father to a T. "Guess I do look great if you're speechless," he said proudly, almost believing it.
Pan stared at him dumbfoundedly and held her hands on her hips. She was about to let out one of her usual annoyed comments, but she decided something entirely instead: she decided to be nice.
"Yeah, well, the glasses make you look smart," she smiled. This time, she caught him blushing. Trunks quickly changed the subject.
"So, are you going to tell me why we've decorated your place with candles and white rose petals? If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to seduce me, Panny," he joked slightly. That—he had to admit—he wouldn't have minded. There was a strangeness that even he couldn't particularly explain between him and his best friend in the past two years.
The second Pan returned from her gap year at twenty years old, there was a new-found confidence that even Vegeta noticed. The older Saiyan even stopped sparring with her until he got to the bottom of it.
"What's wrong with you, girl? Did one of your idiotic grandfathers hand you a drug before your arrival?" he asked her without much of a cushion. "Don't even be smart with me and count out the Namek as a technicality."
Usually, she would've been frightened with his tone, ticked off of his insults of his family, but Pan opted to laugh instead. She appreciated his directness. Her casualness caught the Prince of All Saiyans himself off guard. He stared at her and wondered what happened to his quick-tempered, immature, and always unfocused student.
Pan stared back at Vegeta with a half smile. By then, she had decided to quit college to her grandmother's dismay and go through a year off to train with the forgotten human fighters. It was her version of "studying abroad" for a year. (At least, that was her argument.)
Everyone thought she was crazy. They were completely confused of her so-called "summer travel plans." If she wanted to train, she had her grandpa and Vegeta at her disposal. They could've trained her into a god if she wanted. Yet, that wasn't what she cared for.
Pan saw all of it differently. She saw it as a way to take time out for herself, to grow up a bit, and to learn things she just couldn't grasp in the comfortability of her family. She had been surrounded and taught by the best before she could even say 'kamehameha' properly.
However, as great as a lot of heroes as they were, they limited her.
Her best was always their best, and she didn't want that. She wanted to make her own mark on the world. Her own difference. Staying would have been nice—and maybe she would've learned something—but what great was it if she was living in their stories and not her own?
So, Pan set out on exploring the world, reliving some of the adventures her Grandpa Goku told her about, and cultivating her own tales.
She farmed with Tien, learned how to be assertive from Launch, spent a summer delivering milk with Master Roshi, trained with Uub at Korin's Tower, meditated with Piccolo, and even learned a few skills in the desert with Yamcha. Granted, it was admittedly true that her strength was unmatched for the-desert-bandit-turned-baseball-player, as well as everyone else she was with during her year of discovery. Nonetheless, they all knew she was in search of something else.
Tien had commented one day that the young girl reminded her so much of Goku when he was a kid seeking adventures to become stronger. Launch disagreed.
"She's already stronger than any of those dumb monkeys at that age," the at-the-time-blonde-haired woman corrected as they waved bye to Pan. "She's just looking for herself."
A year later, it seemed like she found it.
Pan had been welcomed back with a party at the Brief's compound thrown by Bra and Bulma. Everyone who she trained with was there, ecstatic to see her progress. She had took an additional two months to herself; keeping her ki low as she could so she wouldn't be found.
Nobody stood prouder than her Grandpa Goku though. He had been thankful that she lived in his childhood home and returned the four-star dragon ball to its rightful place. It was strange feeling watching the little girl they all knew grow into someone else completely—but this time around, she was a warrior in her own right and they all knew that.
A nervous and almost thirty-four year old Trunks had stood behind the crowd watching her graciously talk with guests and tell stories of her journey. He knew there was something different about her, but the thing that took him by surprise was how differently he was beginning to see her.
It wasn't in the way he noticed her newly toned figure, or how he saw that the sun turned her pink delicate skin into a fighter's bronze. She was physically attractive and incredible long before she even left for college.
No, it was in the way she held herself with so much honor, pride, and untouchable ease. She saw herself no better than anyone, but was far too aware of her own capabilities to have considered herself weak. She was more like—well—herself, if that made any sense.
The change didn't go unnoticed, especially not by Vegeta who challenged his returned student into a sparring match in the Gravity Room.
"So girl, are you going to tell me what's going on with you? The last time we saw you crying and whining in front of that weak father of yours," he said pulling into a fighting stance. She didn't care much for his unusual kindness. "Don't tell me this is a facade to hide your misery from leaving my son," he egged on. He wanted to see her snap, but it didn't work.
Pan already knew everyone teased her for her small, childish fondness of Trunks. They were close friends despite the fourteen year age difference. Maybe when she was younger, she had an undeniable crush on her best friend's older brother... What girl didn't?
She wouldn't deny it anyway. It was hard to pretend that she didn't follow a young teenaged Trunks around like a puppy dog as a child. Pan admitted to herself that she would always have a soft spot for him, but for Vegeta and everyone else, they would just have to think that she grew out of it. She grew out of a lot of things when she left.
She only smirked at Vegeta, getting into her stance as well. He deepened his scowl, if he even could. Pan swore his face was permanently like that.
"See, the more I looked at him, the more I realized he had your ugly mug," Pan teased. She was one of the very few people who could with Vegeta without dying intentionally. "I don't know how Bulma does it, but I sure can't look at it every day!" With that, he flung to her and she dodged his attack before simply pushing him with the energy of her palm.
Vegeta flew to the side of the GR, knocking the entire sphere on its side. His student just floated unharmed with a friendly smile. He then got up from the metal mold that held his body and laughed, twitching from the surprise.
"D-don't tell me it's me who has your affections now," he spat with a small pool of blood. He was chuckling, in his own odd way. He couldn't decide to be proud of her new skill, or angry he had been played for a fool. The old man decided on the former, considering that her trash talking was a skill she learned from him. "I refuse to have Kakarot's brat as a father-in-law," he said, flying and attempting to strike her again. That time, she let him hit her straight in the face. She didn't even flinch, or even move for that matter.
"Firstly, ew," she said, kneeing him in his gut. She then came behind and he blinked at her speed. "Secondly, I would rather have you as my teacher again anyway. Watch your step."
"Wha—"
Before he could finish his word, Pan slammed her leg against his back and caught him before he created another dent on the ship. He was still in disbelief of her strength, much less her request to train under him again.
She set him down and then proceeded to punch herself on the mouth, causing herself to bleed. She and Vegeta then left the GR and entered the party full of shocked faces. Anybody who didn't know any better assumed they beat the living shit out of each other.
That's when Trunks understood the difference between his perspective of Pan then and Pan since coming out of the room, carrying his limp father.
This time around, it was he who had the crush.
Pan snapped her fingers in front of Trunk's face, waving an agitated hand until he noticed her. "Did you hear me? We have to hide! Suppress your energy or Marron will know we're here," she commanded, and he did just that. Just then, a clap of thunder shut off the lights. Neither of them noticed it had been raining when they played with the decorations Bra left. The generator would take a while to reach her floor.
"Thankfully we lit the candles before, huh?" Pan laughed, closing the coat closet door after them.
Unlike the one in her bedroom, the closet was a much tighter space. His hands gripped her bare shoulders as she walked in and stood in front of him. He was trying to create a space between them, but her bottom brushed against his thigh. Trunks tried to focus on suppressing his ki instead.
Marron pouted as she wrung her long, blonde hair dry. Goten and Bra didn't comment on the puddle being made on the metal elevator floor. The two energy-producing half-aliens remained wet out of respect for her since she didn't have the same control of her ki. After walking to Pan's place in the pouring rain—while wearing sundresses and shorts, mind you—the Krillin woman wanted nothing more than to get this day over with.
It wasn't that she was unhappy at the turn of events. Marron appreciated the spontaneous Australian zoo trip with Goten, and she liked shopping with Bra when her boyfriend had to quickly leave for a "guys-only" emergency. They were going to meet up later at the theatre anyway.
She was fine, even when they were sneaking into the long boring animal-related documentaries Goten and Bra told her they were excited to see. She didn't even care that the two were constantly excusing themselves to take phone calls from Trunks despite the fact too. Marron didn't even mind when their elevator was stuck on the eleventh floor until the generator came back on. Fourteen floors? They were practically halfway there!
Marron didn't want to be ungrateful of her life. At thirty-five, she was doing well. She had a good job at teaching at the local high school, a great furnished loft that she was proud to call her home, an even better set of friends, and the most thoughtful boyfriend to take her out on a special day. Not even her colleagues' husbands remembered something as simple as anniversaries. There wasn't much to complain about.
However, she had been patient—a needed and practically required skill in order to be with Saiyans. It's just after an extremely long day, especially on her twenty-fourth anniversary, all she wanted to do was sit down and relax. Maybe soak in a warm bath as a cake baked in the oven. She would even walk in the rain some more if it meant going home; the fact that she lost the feelings of her legs about two blocks before they arrived was way out of mind. Way.
She loved Pan—very much so—but it's just, maybe, her new place wasn't as interesting to her. At the moment, at least. The complimentary towel of her building provided was really fancy, and she wouldn't mind returning another day. Tomorrow, even. She just wanted today to be over with. That's all.
"Oh, damn! It's my mom," Bra cursed as the elevator opened to the twenty-fifth floor. The Brief heiress pressed her phone to her ear while remaining in the elevator, mumbling something to the receiver. It was a small hallway that only fit five people at a time, so Marron knew she didn't hear any kind of ring. Bra still pretended to go on as if she was really talking to her mother. Goten fumbled in his pocket for the copy of Pan's keys.
When he finally got it, Marron furrowed her eyebrows at the darkness of Pan's penthouse. There was a faint light, but she felt like she was intruding in something private. "Goten," she whispered, grabbing onto him. "Are you sure she's even home?"
"Just trust me, Mare," Goten said with a determined look. She raised a brow, but thought best to not question him. At least, by the end of this visit, they'll be home. Hopefully. She put on her most friendliest smile and followed behind him. Now she wished she brought some kind of cheese platter for the housewarming. She felt a bit inconsiderate.
Bra came out of the elevator, but stayed in the hallway. Goten guided Marron closer to the light. If she wasn't mistaken, it was candle light. Pan must have not bought lamps yet, or maybe she was still waiting for the generator. She didn't understand way, but she felt anxious.
As the candle lights grew brighter, Marron finally understood all the secrecy. Her jaw dropped, but she quickly closed it as it probably was inappropriate for such a moment. Wow. Suddenly, everything she had been upset about, even her wet jeans sticking her, didn't even matter. Did she want to go home so soon? Not really.
Goten led her to the middle of a rose petal bed on top of Pan's white fur rug. Marron speechlessly looked around the room, and saw the candles surrounding them along with the flowers that hung above. She saw pictures of them dangling near her eyes and spread across the floor. Most importantly, she saw the love her life on one knee, holding open a box of a familiar ring.
She gulped. It was her mother's ring. Was she breathing? It didn't feel like she was. Her eyes grew bigger.
Goten laughed at the astonished look in her face. He was trying to not be teary during this moment, but needless to say, he couldn't help himself. He might have been a little too thankful of the lack of direct light because otherwise, she would have seen what a mess he was. His hand shook as he reached for her left, but as soon as she was in his grasp, he felt relaxed again. Just like that.
"This is probably ten years overdue," he started and Marron wiped his face with her free hand. "I mean it. I should've married you a long time ago but gosh, you still make me nervous. Like really nervous. Is it hot in here or am I just sweating?" he coughed as a sweatdrop fell from his temple.
She let out a melodic laugh, tasting the salt in her own tears. She told him, "You're doing just fine. I—you know what, Goten? I actually don't have anything to say for the first time."
"Thanks, just say yes by the end of this, okay? I mean, if you want. I'll respect whatever choice you make," he rambled and she nodded. Usually, it would be the other way around with him understanding her word vomits.
Vomit. Oh, no. Was she going to puke during this? Why was her stomach doing cartwheels at a time like this!? Twenty-four years wasn't enough preparation? Of course, it wasn't... oh, boy. What is air?
Goten matched her serene smile. He added, "But I really hope you say yes because we've been through so much together and it still hasn't been enough. I want more with you. More of everything. Good or bad, I'm ready to take on whatever as long as we're together. I don't need anybody else."
"Not even your favorite coffee guy?" Marron timidly asked, half as a joke and half in all seriousness. The man was adamant about his coffee and who made it.
"I'd drink crappy instant coffee every morning for the rest of my life if it meant I get another day with you. I mean it, I don't need anybody else. It's always been you and me. Dakota's just going to have to wait for another regular."
She quietly gasped, "You'd give up Dakota for me?"
"I'd give up anything to make you happy, Marron. You deserve it. If you asked me if I wanted to do the last twenty-something years all over again, I would. Every single time. I wouldn't change a thing about anything either. I made you a promise when we were eleven, and I intend to keep it," he said firmly.
Marron took a pause to remember that very day they had gone fishing. It wasn't an unusual hobby of theirs, but it was different from the other times they had gone. The day was brighter and the grass scent was more crisp. Something in the wind had changed, but something in them too.
Maybe it was puberty or maybe they just knew that instantly, but it was the day they decided to be something other than friends. Something more, and something different for the both of them.
She had stayed on the shore with her dainty pole as Goten jumped in to catch the biggest fish in the pond. It was May. This exact day decades ago. They were laughing because he placed his fish down beside hers, which wasn't even comparable in size. The smaller fish was barely bigger than her palm, and his could've fed an entire village.
"Wow! I could get used to you catching dinner for the rest of our lives," the younger her had giggled.
The freckled eleven year old kid with the missing front tooth just blushed. He asked her, "The rest of our lives? You really want to spend the rest of your life with me? You're crazy!"
"You're making it sound crazy. I've already spent my entire life with you, silly. Why would I need to change that? I already seen you in diapers. When you get old, I'll see you in diapers again!"
"Ew, you're going to change my old diapers?! Gross!"
"So? You're going to change mine and Trunks's! So who has the bad job here? Not me."
"You want to kiss me too, huh? I bet," he said while waving the fish around. If she could travel back through time, she would've laughed her head off.
"Yeah, so what if I do? Kissing is natural! I bet you want to kiss me too," she told him before stealing her first kiss from him. "There! Now you've kissed me."
"I wasn't r-ready!" he stuttered as his eyes widen. He also had dropped his fish to cover his mouth.
She didn't care at the time. The eleven year old her had shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "Now we both know what it's like so if we ever want to—"
Then before she could say again, he had kissed her out of revenge. Her eyes had went wide too, but she didn't cover her mouth. As he was about to say, "Ha!" to her face, their parents had witnessed the whole thing. Her mom's usually stoic face was as reddest she had ever seen while Chichi's mouth was gaping wide. She could've sworn her dad and Goku had high-fived each other before their moms started yelling.
It was later that night after getting lectured and having fish for dinner, they had sat outside and looked at the stars as they normally did. He asked her again if she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, and that time, she answered with a simple yes.
"Really?" he had asked again to make sure.
"Really, Goten. I want you in my life forever," she told him.
"Okay then. I'm in your life forever. I promise," and just right after that, he stole another kiss.
Out of spite, she didn't kiss him again until they were thirteen. Now they were thirty-five and he was proposing. How did time go by so fast. Wow.
Goten's voice was now clear to her, and she felt calm this time. Oh, she wished he'd just ask her already. She knew what her answer was. She had always known what it was.
"You see, I told you that I was going to be in your life forever and I meant that. I know it hasn't always been easy for us; some seasons better than others..."
Now that stupid summer was in her head. Oh, god. How naive was she back then? She went to go live in a completely different country because she was scared of that exact thing she wanted. She was scared that they had been together for so long that they didn't know anything else. He was in the middle of picking careers and she felt so guilty because she had taken his youth.
When she was studying to be a teacher, he was working three jobs so they could afford rent. Flipping burgers, being a living mannequin, dusting off sidewalks—the guy did anything for her and the moment he was in need of advice and support, she left. She had taken for granted of his kindness, and when he was in need of guidance the most, she picked a fight with him for something she couldn't even remember. They were fighting a lot during that time, and when she had said she was going to leave, he told her to go on ahead. She had pushed him that much.
"It was hard, Mare. Fighting with you was something I just wasn't used to," his voice cut through her thoughts, and she had found ease at his soft smile. God, he was lovely. "But the thing is, we fought back harder to get back to each other. I always had hope. I always found myself still wanting to try, even when everyone was telling me to give it up—we were over, and I had to accept that... but I didn't. I couldn't. It wasn't that I wanted to be comfortable with you, or that I was settling down because I made a promise to you when we were children, or that I even fell in love with you while you kicked Vegeta's ass—"
"Can you imagine me kicking the Prince's ass?" she laughed. A grin finally broke out on his lips. Their parents had great love stories, but they liked theirs the best.
"Say that any louder and he could hear you," Goten joked briefly. Their tears had both dried now and something pleasant took over. "But point is, I couldn't give up on you because we weren't moments or a promise. I didn't fall in love with you once, I've fallen in love with you over and over again, ever since we met. Even when you were screaming and kicking me and I had to be mad at you, I just fell in love with that part of you too."
His eyes now caught hers and there was a look she didn't recognize. A look that was fearful, hopeful, and begging all at the same time. "See, you and I are not moments. We're not even a series of moments. We're forever, a constant even in the most unpredictable times. I love you, Marron, and if you'll have me, I want to prove that to you every day even more so than I do now. Will you marry me?"
There was a small pause in the room, and everyone felt it.
Bra had been watching from the door; a strange twist that took over her stomach instead the warmth of happiness she intended for her friends.
Pan had her hand on Trunks's mouth, listening in on the proposal, and smiling for her uncle. Trunks had been blushing as Pan pressed her body against his to keep him from asking another question of what was happening; he was trying to keep his thoughts out of the way their legs intertwined in the small room.
Marron had been staring at Goten, and Goten was patiently waiting for her reply.
She thought about her answer and smiled, "Did you even have to ask?!" His future wife then tackled him down and kissed him again and again. Between kisses, she told him of course and I love you. He tried to slip the ring on her finger as she smothered him in an embrace.
Once he did, Goten held her tightly. Then once she began nibbling on his neck, he remembered that they weren't alone. The lights came back on and Bra walked in, congratulating the two. Pan and Trunks stumbled out the closet and attacked their friends with hugs.
"THE CANDLES!" Goten yelled as everyone piled on top of him.
"OH!" Pan said, and with the wave of her hand, the flames disappeared.
Trunks woke up at the sound of his sister leaving. It couldn't have been earlier than four in the morning, and his pounding head began to remember that—instead of getting food like sensible people—the five friends decided to buy several bottles of random alcohol to play random drinking games that had no rules. Even for his Saiyan metabolism, he still felt intoxicated. The five of them had yelled, laughed, toured Pan's house, and then all crashed onto the living room floor, sharing two blankets between the five of them.
Bra hoped he didn't look at her. Her intention was to go upstairs and use Pan's trick window to escape effortlessly. She had to leave, for the feelings she once buried began to resurface again.
Trunks couldn't see far. He guessed it was time to replace his fake glasses with real lenses. He looked beside him, and Pan was curled into a ball, using his hand as a pillow. On his other side, Marron and Goten were sprawled out, mouths open, and cuddled. Trunks rubbed his eyes, miscounting his four for six. He guessed he shouldn't trust his counting instincts right now, and with that, he went back to sleep. One arm was taken out under and thrown across Pan as the other held Goten's foot from coming any closer to his mouth.
The blue-haired girl sighed in relief, flying her way to Pan's room. She didn't even bother getting her outfit from the dryer. Leveling up her ki just slightly was enough to burn out the alcohol in her bloodstream. She wasn't that much of a drinker anyway. Bra sighed, looking back. Even though she couldn't physically see him, she still couldn't bear being in the same place as him. Not right now.
Bra jumped out of the building and flew home. The sky was changing colors and she tried to hold back her tears. It wasn't her fault that she was crying; the wind irritated her eyes!
She paused to wipe her face, floating mid-air. She could see the sun, and she did not understand why like it, her feelings were coming back up for him. It was all a mistake, a summer that both had admitted to not talk about. It was her idea to get Eighteen's ring to propose with, even her idea for them to get married in the first place.
Yet, why was it so hard for her to accept it? Was she a terrible friend for wishing Marron had said no? She had never been in love with Goten, not even the slightest—but her mind kept thinking about that summer, when it was just them two. Marron was gone, Pan was on some weird enlightenment trip without a phone, and Trunks spent his days between business meetings and the bar. It just happened.
Goten was looking for Trunks as she was meditating, trying to telepathically talk to Pan. Neither of their goals were accomplished that June day, and they both slumped on the couch to watch television. He just got dumped. She just turned eighteen. It was summer. Neither of them were looking for anything serious. When a commercial came on, they kissed. By the time the credits rolled through, Bra was on top of him as he watched her climax. It was casual, no strings attached.
But they ended up meeting almost every day to hang out, sex or not. Bra needed someone to vent to while Goten needed to snap out of his sad bubble of missing Marron. He listened to her as she pepped him up again. She helped him give Marron space as he helped her do the same for Pan.
When that failed, he helped her look for her best friend, and she bought the plane ticket for him to go see Marron. He needed to make up with the one he loved, and she needed to make a better effort. (She knew he could fly there by himself, but it was the gesture that counted.) She was the first one he called when things worked out, and he was the first one she told about Pan coming back home.
They were friends. How did she feel like this about him? About anybody?
Bra bit her lip as she headed to the CC compound. When she landed, she didn't even bother hiding her ki or trying to sense who was walking around. She was just exhausted—physically, emotionally, psychologically. She had tried to reason with herself that it was still morning and that's why she felt so... numb, but it wasn't convincing enough.
The blue-haired beauty walked inside the gates, punched in the security code, and found her way to the couch. Last week's memory of planning the proposal crossed her mind as she sat down. It took place right here, she thought. Everything happened on this couch.
Her mind flashed every memory between her and Goten on the red plush seat. When they watched TV, the first time they had sex, the first time they kissed... There were nights where they would just sit and talk. She would tell him about her new invention idea while he had decided that he would've like to be a veterinarian. She cried to him on this couch, and he did the exact same thing. They built each other up. They helped each other grow back up. They planned his proposal here.
Why didn't she say anything?
She didn't even notice she was crying, nonetheless the figure behind her. Bra pulled her head back, staring at the ceiling. The person in the shadows came and sat on the arm of the couch, holding an open can of soda while adjusting his pajama shorts. He looked at her once, and she already felt his disappointment. She hated when her father saw her weak.
"Thought you were the boy," he huffed a faint laugh. She managed a small smile before biting her jaw down to stop herself from tearing up. Vegeta now sat beside her and she cried onto his lap. She felt like she was a little girl again, crying over the smallest thing—not that she had even done such a thing at that age anyway.
Vegeta shifted uncomfortably while trying his best to remain still. He rarely saw his daughter burst into tears. At the moment, truthfully, he felt helpless. Though she had a physical resemblance to her mother, she was his without a doubt. She had his short temper, the same prideful smirk, and same work ethic. She was resilient, headstrong, and downright haughty if she wanted to be. He knew she would've been an undeniable queen in his old world—but that was neither here, nor there. Right now, she was crying and he had to do his best.
Vegeta rubbed her head as she wept, and when she grew tired, he carried her to her room and put her to rest. He pressed the button his wife showed him for curtains, and blocked the morning sun from bothering her. He then walked out of her room and closed the door carefully.
Seeing him come out of his daughter's bedroom, Bulma halted and raised an eyebrow of suspicion. "Drunk?" she asked simply. He caught her eye and shook his head.
"She..." he hesitated before sighing, "There were tears and then she fell asleep so I tucked her in her bed."
Bulma furrowed her eyebrows.
"What do you mean there were tears and she fell asleep? You knocked her out, Vegeta?!" she began to scold him, and his eyes widen. He, not only as the Prince of All Saiyans but also as the better father between him and Kakarot, would never do such a damn thing. (Not to Bra, anyway.)
"Keep your voice down!" he yelled in a whisper, holding a finger to shush her. He was blushing, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. "My child is trying to sleep," Vegeta huffed, heading back to their bedroom. When he couldn't walk fast enough, he chose to quickly fly away without another word.
Bulma stood there, feeling stumped and unable to argue back. He had said a nice thing, but as usual, in his usual angry, vein-throbbing way. She let out a sigh, deciding to drop it. She headed to her lab instead.
Pan woke up with Trunks's arm over her body and a stream of giggles and whispered 'fuck's hovering above them. Her slight anger alone evaporated any remnant alcohol in her system. She sat up with furrowed eyebrows and a clenched jaw, a face Goten knew all well from his own mother. He hid the camera behind his back and put on a friendly smile.
"Sorry about that, Pan... my, um, beautiful and, uh, strong but forgiving niece," her uncle said, feeling the raise in her ki. Suddenly, Pan stopped, remembering her promise to herself during her gap year. Goten gulped at her calmness. There was always calmness before a storm.
Her lips, however, here cracking into a smile, which was both a relief and absolutely terrifying.
"When you get those developed, send me a copy so I could have pictures to decorate my house with," she said kindly before letting out a more gentler laugh. "Everything's so empty here. It would be nice to have pictures to remember the night! Congrats again, by the way."
Goten flashed a look at Marron who, instead of paying attention, had been rubbing her head from the migraine coming on. The blonde felt dehydrated, but the only thing available to at Pan's was what caused them to have an impromptu sleepover in the first place. Maybe the lobby had some refreshments, if she remembered correctly.
"Need an aspirin?" Goten asked, and Marron nodded wordlessly.
Pan then looked around, missing a head of blue hair.
"Where's Bra?" she asked, and the newly engaged couple shrugged. Pan sighed. This was not the first time Bra had been skipping out early in their hangouts with Goten, Trunks, and Marron—but she guessed her brilliant best friend was creating something in her lab at home. She tended to drop everything when a new idea struck her, and Pan learned to respect that.
Trunks woke up to the sound her voice, yawning as he was now not nearly as wasted as he was last night. His arm did not move from her waist as he found himself actually comfortable on the floor. "Call my secretary and tell her to hold all my meetings," he mumbled, snuggling his face in her back. Pan blushed at their closeness. Even with her new-found maturity, he still found a way to get under her skin.
"Trunks?" she said.
"Yeah, yeah," he grunted, only to dig his face deeper to hide from the sun. His breath tickling the small of her back set her off. She then made a fist and dropped it on his gut. He screamed, "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"
Goten chuckled, "You were getting too close for comfort there, buddy."
Trunks scowled at Pan, and she did not hold back at making the same expression. Despite the fact that Pan did come back with more patience, and the fact that age did teach Trunks how to control his inherited temper, something about the morning air always brought out the timeless irritation the two could only express with another grumpy person. Marron only coughed to break the tension.
"Uh, we're gonna go now... but you two, um, be at Chichi's later on for the, uh, party. Gifts are optional," Marron said as her two friends still had frowns and furrowed brows. "Yeah... get something to eat before you get there." The blonde then grabbed Goten's hand and left the penthouse almost abruptly.
Then not a second later, both hybrid's heard their stomach grumble. The tense expressions on their faces disappeared in an instant, and they both laughed.
"Guess I can't be mad at you until I have the energy?" He scratched his head and stretched his arms. "Hey, the place across the street has the best pasta," Trunks said, knowing Pan's food weakness.
"Don't you have work?" she asked him plainly. He shrugged.
"What's the point of being president if you can't decide your own work schedule?" he said and a slight grin came upon her face. Trunks hardly skipped work. A long list of plans began to scroll through her mind. Pan leaned in closer to him and a slight pink came across his cheeks.
"If that's the case... Trunks?" she said softly, leaning in even closer and not abandoning her eyes on his.
"Y-yes?" he stammered, trying to hold himself up. Pan smiled sweetly before she decked him in the jaw.
"THAT'S FOR NOT KNOWING WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS!" she scolded as he slid across the living room. He barely caught himself before he crashed into the windows. He rubbed his mouth before yelling back.
"WHAT THE HELL WOMAN!" he barked. He almost reminded her of Vegeta when he yelled. "I'M SUPPOSED TO EAT WITH THIS THING!"
"Well, if you can talk, then you certainly can chew," she huffed, grabbing her blankets and flying up to her room. Trunks met her on the stairs and pinned her wrists down. She could've easily threw him off, but Pan only stared at him with a stoic face. His blood from his lips dripped onto her cheek.
"Where do you think you're going?" he smirked, setting his knees on her thighs. She merely laughed.
She then grabbed his wrists. With her free hands, she flipped him above her on top of the steps. She pushed against the ground with her freed legs to flip onto him. This time she was on top, and he wasn't bothering to fight back. Pan settled on his torso, caring less if she would be heavy for him or not. He was a Saiyan, and therefore, he could handle it.
"Are you done yet, or can I change in peace while you get your dress shirt from the dryer? I would like to eat before training," she said, crossing her arms. Trunks was trying to look anywhere else but her. The earlier realization he had now felt like bad karma.
"Well, I can't get dressed if you're on top of me!" he piqued with an uneven voice, still not looking at her.
Pan rolled her eyes before rolling off. As much as she wanted to be upset however, she simply couldn't. There was a familiarity with the way they fought. It was never serious. A couple punches here, a few casual insults there. If anything, it made her grand empty space feel... homely. She looked around at the empty walls and sighed. It was just the beginning of making memories here.
Trunks sat up on his elbows and watched her think. They were tousled in random sheets, the sun was coming through the windows, and they were laying around in sweatpants. If he didn't know any better, walking into this place and catching them would feel like intruding newlyweds moving into their first home together. Though, he didn't think that far ahead.
"I'm going to take pictures of everyone and just frame them all over this place," she grinned to herself. She had been doing that a lot this morning.
"Yeah, a gigantic poster of Piccolo would fit right, just, about there," he pointed out, making two L's with his hands. She covered her mouth to laugh quietly.
"Your mom would hire a whole camera crew and makeup team just so I can get one candid picture!"
They both laughed at the thought of Bulma scheduling a photoshoot for that exact reason. Surprisingly, despite the morning rush, they weren't that quick to get dressed. They sort of just stayed at their spot to gaze upon the grand penthouse. It wasn't filled completely, but it was staring onto a blank canvas full of possibilities.
Trunks looked more thoughtful that she did, and she caught a glimpse of him relaxing beside her. Pan felt a small swirl in her stomach, both excited and calm. Before, she would've liked nothing more than to decorate a whole house with Trunks. Picking out their color scheme, testing out couches and mattresses, figuring out their grocery list, and being happily domestic with her childhood crush—now, she just simply knew better.
She wouldn't cry over somebody who wasn't hers, and she wouldn't dwell in her feelings for somebody who didn't reciprocate them. Before she left, he had made that apparent enough.
Granted, they were drunk, she was leaving, and that night was filled with a storm of emotions—but nevertheless, she remembered it all clearly.
Bra had thrown herself a Graduation-Slash-Welcome-Back-Slash-Farewell-Pan sleepover with her and Marron. Vegeta and Bulma even left for a hotel for the night to leave them alone. Much like yesterday night, all they did was drink.
Goten and Trunks had stumbled into their private party in the middle of the night. All three girls singing and dancing on the kitchen counters while simultaneously eating dessert. She could only imagine the ridiculousness of Bra shooting a can of whipped cream in her mouth as Marron sang into her ice cream cone. They had smeared makeup, badly painted nails, and disastrous pajamas to match.
The boys blushed at the sight of them, untamed like warriors in the wild. When they were spotted, Marron invited them to join in the festivities. It wasn't long until they all sat at the bar of the Brief's kitchen, singing horribly at an overplayed pop song on the radio. The girls stripped the boys of their suits until they had only on slacks, and then wrote their names on their bare chests with lipstick. They laughed, they cried, and it wasn't long until they all crashed on the floor of Trunk's room because he had the projector screen.
The sound of the credits had woken her up and she saw Trunks going through his PDA for tomorrow's schedule. He was drinking coffee and his usually flat hair was pushed back from his face. The sharpness of his jaw and his very sculpted cheekbones only served as a catalyst for her already want for him.
Goten had been knocked out across from Trunks with Bra and Marron clutching his sides. That's when Pan decided to sit up next to Trunks and lay on his shoulder. He tensed at the foreign feeling, but eased when he saw it was her. He went back to the spreadsheets on the small screen.
"I don't even know how you can read," she yawned. She nuzzled her head until she was more comfortable. "I feel like this whole room is spinning!" The both of them let out a soft chuckle.
Trunks rubbed his eyes, seeing the time glance back up at him from the small screen. It was three in the morning, and everyone had fallen asleep around midnight. "You're right," he said. "But I have a long day ahead of me... but so do you if I recall," he looked down at her and she settled her chin on his shoulder, looking up at him. "So, what? You're gonna say bye to your parents and fly on out of here?"
"That was pretty much the plan," her laughed tickled his arm. "You're gonna miss me or what?"
"Considering that my dad is going to beat on me while you're gone? Hmm... maybe just a little," he joked. This time, she didn't laugh. She just simply stared at his eyes before she trailed down to his lips.
"Well, I might miss you a little too," she said, and the next second, they kissed. The sensation went through her tongue to the bottom of her throat to the pits of her stomach until the nerves of her toes were tingling. It was the kiss she dreamt of for years, but like its moment, it stopped abruptly.
Then, he laughed.
"Guess we're still a bit drunk, aren't we?" he dismissed her entirely. The younger her was doing her best to not overreact as he went back to his phone, not even flinching as she got up and left the room. That kind of rejection was enough for her to give up chasing him in an instant. There was nothing she wanted more than to never feel that way about herself ever again.
So that morning, she had flew back home before any of her friends got up. She had woken up her parents with the sounds of pans clashing together as she hurriedly washed them, leaving a goodbye note next to the breakfast she cooked. She had set off to Tien's, not feeling bad about herself ever again. No one heard from her for a year, and she was changed.
And she didn't stop growing as a person since then—even after two years of her return, give or take a few months. She was a different person now, and she would be a different person tomorrow. Trunks, on the other hand, was still checking his outdated PDA for his schedules and proposals and well, just being Trunks. She had decided that she was better off being his friend.
The Brief heir then caught her staring at him. What is she thinking while looking at him like that?
"Hey, Trunks?" she finally spoke.
"Yeah?"
"Skip work today."
End.
