CHAPTER 4 - A DIFFICULT CHOICE

His eyes seemed to be frozen when he watched the content of that very old and full rucksack. Trunks' heart suddenly missed a beat, and he close his eyes and opened them immediately afterwards to assure himself he saw well.
Supported one over the other, the dragon balls were perfectly whole, lit by a golden light and bright as he saw them the last time before he left.
He suddenly felt a heat's blaze invade all his body, like an electric shock, like an Oriental wind. He would've wanted to rejoice, exult, scream and dance, but everything he managed to do was watching again at the lit window.
«Mum, I did this for you» he murmured pressing the machine's button that made the glass doom open. With slow and determined steps the Saiyan approached the house's doorway, breathing heavily before entering.
The warmth of the living room seemed to invade his heart, just as the loving voice of his mother.
«Dear! Are you already back from your weekend in mountain?» the long blue-haired woman asked. She was very beautiful, just like the woman he left short ago in the other dimension. The time and the thousand displeasures and concerns didn't sign almost at all the perfect and still youthful face of his mother.
He smiled, hugging her warmly. He really loved very much that woman who gave him life and who stood beside him in so dramatic and scary moments: Bulma was a brave woman. She could've let herself go by the terrible events but she didn't, she had been strong for both of them and she had grown him up and educated him in the best way, Trunks would always be grateful for this and he couldn't wait to give her the life she should've had.
«Yes, mum. I'm here» the boy whispered softly, taking her hands in his «let's go sit down»
The woman raised an eyebrow, suspicious by the bizarre behaviour and mostly by the bright look of her son, following him on the sofa next to where she had put a teapot containing some chamomile shortly before.
«Drink it, it's still hot. I made a lot of it!» the woman suggested pouring a cup to the boy, whom willingly accepted the relaxing drink. He didn't speak immediately: he looked to his mother, thinking about how he could tell her what he had just done. The warmth that the porcelain's cup emanated was nothing in comparison to the hope's ardour that he felt in his heart.
«Are you sure everything is okay, dear? You seem weird!» Bulma demanded sipping from her cup. The boy smiled while his heart was beating faster.
«Sure, mum. Everything is alright. Well, to be honest I have a surprise for you»
The woman smiled, widening her eyes for the emotion. She loved surprises, mostly in a so empty period of her life.
«A surprise? What is it about?»
«Promise me you'll keep calm, you won't get angry nor pass out»
«Will I become a granny?!» the woman asked screaming and approaching her face to the boy's one, whose cheeks blushed powerfully, as he got away from his mother and moved his arms.
«What comes to your mind, mum! No! This is not at all about this!»
The woman calmed herself, placing the big cup on the wood's table next to the sofa. She was a bit let down, but she wasn't already ready to be called granny, maybe.
«But it's even more shocking. Prepare yourself!» the boy suggested taking in his arms the blue rucksack he had previously put at his feet «when you'll open this rucksack maybe a thousand thoughts, doubts and perplexities will come to your mind. But don't worry, I promise everything will be fine»
«You scare me, Trunks» his mother admitted, taking the rucksack her son was giving her with trembling hands. She didn't felt the content nor she tried to imagine what there was in. She just observed the son with dubious and insure air.
«What do you expect? Open it!» the son incited with his heart which was beating faster than ever.
Once again the noise of the zip penetrated the Saiyan till the bones, and he breathed heavily.
She was opening it. She opened it. She watched in it. She passed out.

«Mum? Mum! Wake up, mum!» the boy called loudly, slapping gently the blue-haired woman laying with her legs raised on the sofa.
She slowly managed to regain consciousness and open her eyes; some small sweat's droplets detached themselves from the pale forehead.
«You okay?» Trunks asked doing her air with a gossip magazine.
«I… I think y… yes» the mother murmured with a little voice, watching with her big light blue eyes the ones of the same colour of the son.
A spine-chilling silence fell on the big room, only the clock's noise signed the flow of time and, at every stroke, the atmosphere seemed more tense.
«Trunks… but what… how did it come to your mind?» his mother finally demanded sitting herself down slowly, helped by the always more nervous son.
«I always desired to do it, but I never found the courage. Now I'm willing to face the consequences of my actions»
«It could be dangerous, catastrophes may succeed. You shouldn't modify the course of history» Bulma said sipping what remained of the chamomile she left on the table shortly before, as to rehydrate by the scorching heat that image left on her mouth.
The dragon balls, positioned in a way that made them touch each other, blazed intermittently in the semi-opened blue rucksack that was laying at sofa's feet, waiting to be used. Bulma couldn't hold back her own glare from alight on them, opening more her eyes at every sparkle.
«I know. I know it for sure. But I want to risk, I'll face anything! I already faced every danger but now I want to bring things as they were before. I want to have the possibility to know my father, to make you meet him again, to give you that life back»
Bulma trembled, as if a high voltage electric shock just passed through her body. Hearing about Vegeta upset her, she never imagined she could see him again. She always desired it, in her dreams, but she never hoped it could become possible.
«I don't know if I'm ready» the woman admitted tormenting her hands, which were taken by the rough and warm ones of the son.
«Take your time to think tonight» said this, he went up to his bedroom, leaving his mother on the sofa next to the balls.
He never put her in front of a so difficult decision and Trunks knew this, he felt guilty, but he was conscious that the best thing to do at the moment was leaving her time to think about this alone.
Laying on the bed, the young wisteria-haired Saiyan, exhausted, fell asleep, as if those days of intense distress crumbled quickly all his strengths.
He dreamed of his father, he dreamed about the wonderful moments he could spend together with him, he dreamed of that family of the past and about the immense luck he managed to let them have. He knew that it was all thanks to him: if he didn't undertook the journey at that time, even their destiny would've been the same as him. He dreamed of little Trunks, he dreamed about a hypothetical marriage between his parents. Beautiful dreams, dreams that didn't foretell at all something disastrous.

Morning came like a breath of fresh air in Trunks' room, and he woke up because of the rays of sunshine that penetrated by the window. The enjoyable night, full of dreams and hopeful images, gave him a new strength, a new hope about future. He felt confident, ready to help his positive instinct.
After he taut himself many times he decided to get up, walking quickly to the living room. What he saw left him speechless.
«Mum? You're still there? Haven't you slept?» the son demanded observing his mother who was holding her head between her hands on the sofa. She slowly turned her face to him, with wet but smiling eyes.
«Barely»
Trunks approached the woman, stopping a few centimetres away from her. She got up, putting both her hands on her son's shoulders, then she breathed heavily and spoke.
«I made a decision»