AN: This chapter was a pain in the ass to write for unknown reasons. If I were to have a 'bloopers' or 'deleted scenes' section there would be several from this chapter, mostly revolving around the beginning scene and Mirai's interactions with Gohan. I'm fairly pleased with the outcome, though – it accomplished everything I wanted.
Right now my plan is to continue on alternating between Goten and Mirai, but I also have a side-story involving Gohan and Trunks in mind. So the question is – stick with the current plan, or add in a few chapters from Gohan and Trunks' POV?
Finally, another thanks to everyone who favorited and/or alerted this story and another HUGE thanks to Rayne. Your comments inspire me to push myself harder for this story while simultaneously petrifying me with the belief that I'll fall flat with the next addition. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!
image: (n) A physical likeness or representation of a person, animal, or thing, photographed, painted, sculptured, or otherwise made visible.
A counterpart; copy: That child is the image of his mother.
Synonyms: Representation, facsimile.
Antonyms: Original.
"A toast?" The glass was thin, bending and cracking under the impossible pressure of my grasp. I smiled and shifted my fingers, struggling to hold it casually and loosely, but my hand wanted to clench shut, a fist more comfortable than a hold around a fluted wine glass.
"A toast," she responded, and the vivid smile made something constrict in my chest. It had been so long – so damn long – since I had seen that and I would give anything to make sure it wasn't going away again. "To… victory? To peace. To completion."
"To hope," I said, and her smile widened as we both lifted our hands, glass clinking gently as the amber liquid swirled about. It caught my eye and my fingers jerked, squeezing too hard, and the stem shattered. The bowl hovered in the air for a moment before falling ever so slowly and shattered, glass and wine exploding with a deafening roar. I stared, dumbfounding, as she screamed in pain and horror as amber engulfed her, darkening to a deep crimson as it wrapped about her, swallowed her whole.
"Trunks."
No. The glass was crackling under my feet, heat causing it to hiss as the edges slowly started to melt away.
"Trunks!"
There was more urgency in her tone and I turned away, wanting to hide my face. No.
"Trunks, come on."
A hand was on my shoulder, shaking me, and my eyes snapped open. For a moment I laid there, staring blankly at the off-white wall as Goten gently nudged me awaked. He tilted his head to the side, hands resting on my side as he leaned over to peer at me. I flicked my gaze upward, far too aware far too soon, and he smiled. "You sleep like the dead, did you know that?" he said lightly, and my expression darkened. "Bulma wants you downstairs so come on."
With that he squeezed my shoulder before leaving, giving me plenty of time to be alone with my own thoughts.
Groaning, I waited several moments before sitting up and running a hand back through my hair. It was Sunday – that was why Goten was here instead of at his own house. Even with Trunks ( the other Trunks ) being grounded the younger Son son still spent the majority of his free time at the Briefs household, something I was still adjusting to. Not that I wasn't… Well, he certainly was different to be around, that was for sure, and I was still on the fence over whether that was a good thing.
I missed Gohan. I wasn't entirely sure which Gohan I missed, but the older of the Son's had been too busy with his work to make an appearance over the past week and a half. Whether that was a good or a bad thing I wasn't sure – by now he would be roughly the same age as my Gohan. Losing him once had been bad enough…
I frowned as I slipped out of bed before shaking my head. There was no point dwelling on it; when – if – that issue came up I would deal with it. It was the same policy I was taking with my memories ( and the same policy I took with my nightmares ). Panicking and analyzing them with a fine-tooth comb twenty-four-seven would get me no-where. I was here, I was stuck, and nothing was going to change by fretting endlessly over everything I couldn't change.
Like fretting over my clothing situation. Pulling open my dresser, I grimaced at the selection: a pair of jeans and three t-shirts. Mother had scrounged up all she could for me, trying to find everything from the last time I was here and any of Trunks' clothing that would fit me, but I was just tall enough to make his clothing too small to fit. Goten had come to the rescue but even I could tell that the teen didn't exactly have an excessive wardrobe to go and give out to strangers.
I mean, that's all I was to him – a stranger.
Pulling on a green-and-white long-sleeved shirt that had seen better days and a ratty pair of jeans, I ran my hand through my hair again before leaving my room and bounding down the stairs to the kitchen. I could smell food cooking and my stomach grumbled in response, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since dinner last night. Smiling, I stepped off the landing and turned the corner, prepared to greet Mother and Goten.
Both were there, Mother at the stove whipping up a large batch of pancakes while Goten was at the table happily wolfing down a large stack. Trunks was there as well, sullenly picking at his own plate. My greeting died slightly seeing him – he looked irritable enough already, his face a brilliant array of blues, purples, and green, and I didn't want to add fuel to the fire – but it was the third individual sitting at the table that caused my voice to freeze in my throat.
Gohan. Speak of the devil…
"Oi, Trunks!" Goten glanced up, eyes tearing away from his food as he heard my footsteps, and a smile forced its way on my face out of habit. He lifted an arm and waved enthusiastically, gesturing for me to come over, and I shook my head while laughing softly. After I moment I stepped over, heading toward the eager teen while keeping my eyes on the older Son. "Took you long enough to get down here."
"Sorry I took so long," I said dryly, taking a seat between the two. "Gohan," I added after a moment, nodding curtly in acknowledgment. He gave a nod in response and Trunks rolled his eyes, stabbing rather violently at his plate as he rolled his eyes.
Before I could even glance up toward the range a stack of something warm and sweet was unceremoniously dropped onto the table in front of me, a bottle of syrup following suit. Flicking my eyes up, I smiled at Mother as she wiped her hands on the front of her jeans before chiding Trunks gently, tapping the back of his head lightly as he sunk further down into his seat. "Eat up," she said cheerful, flashing me a bright smile as she stepped away. "You have a long day ahead of you."
"Oh?" Forgoing the syrup – I wasn't a fan of sweets – I cut into the pancakes with the side of my fork, my eyes trained on Mother's back the entire time. She nodded in response, shoulders rotating in time with the bobbing of her head.
"Mmhmm. I'm not giving up on fixing the time machine," she said hastily, twisting about to glance almost guiltily at me, "but… it's been a week and a half Mirai. Maybe I'll get it tomorrow but maybe it'll take another month. Either way I think it's about time you stretch your legs, so to speak, and get out a little more."
I would have responded but a mouthful of buttery pancake would have made it a little rude. I nodded, gaze drifting back to the table. Trunks was sulking, casting angry looks at Mother in between glaring at his plate and gazing hatefully at Goten. Goten, for his part, seemed oblivious of the loathing thrown at him and was grinning almost stupidly at me while Gohan was sitting in a far more dignified matter on my other side, his head tilted slighted to stare at his younger brother while a low exasperated sigh escaped his lips.
"Gohan offered to come over to help out," she continued on, turning back to give her full attention to the baking goods. "Bulla has some appointments I can't reschedule or else I would go along too but I trust his judgment. You know, for clothing and all that." She made a gesture along her hairline, scissoring her fingers together, and I choked for a moment before grabbing for a glass of water. Seriously?
"Well I don't see why I have to go," Trunks said suddenly, looking up from his plate. Mother let out a rather worn sigh, making it obvious that this conversation had occurred repeatedly in various forms. "I don't think I'm going to be of any help in any of those departments."
"Well they can use you as a model of what not to do," she snapped and I winced, ducking my head down. "You're still grounded mister. Your father and I both need to go out for a few hours today. Maybe if we could trust you to behave yourself alone we could leave you here but as of now you have to be babysat by Gohan." He cursed, dropping his fork on his plate before shoving his chair back roughly and getting up. "Don't you walk away from this – Trunks Vegeta Briefs, you get back here right now!"
He ignored her, muttering something rather crude under his breath as he stormed up the stairs, and she sighed again. Gohan frowned before glancing over at her, dark eyes narrowing slightly with worry. "Bulma," he said after a moment. "I'm sure Mirai can handle everything on his own. I can stay here with Trunks and Goten could just help him with finding anything he's not familiar with if that would be easier."
"Maybe," Mother responded in a rather distracted tone. "I just don't get that boy. Honestly, this wasn't supposed to be a punishment – I thought he would be so happy to have a chance to get out of the house. But everything we decide for him to do lately is just the wrong thing…"
"He just needs some time to himself," Goten said, the statement destroying the illusion that he was all but oblivious to the situation as he shrugged and pushed his dirty plate away. "I think Gohan has a pretty decent idea. Trunks and I – you know, Future Trunks," he said, grinning evilly as I rolled my eyes ( Bulla's nickname for me amused him to no end ). "We can just go together. You guys are harping on him all the time though. Sure he made a pretty serious mistake and yeah I'd be pretty pissed too-"
"Should I ignore the fact that you knew my son was lying to me?" Mother asked, one hand cocked against her hip as she turned about to face us. Goten blanched and Gohan grinned wickedly as the younger Son hemmed for a moment, rubbing his neck as he glanced away in embarrassment.
"Uh, well, you know. I would have told you if that wouldn't have been in violation of our friend bond and, well, you know. A guy has to have someone he can trust."
"Uh-huh." Mother quirked a brow, the edges of her mouth lifting into an amused smile despite herself. "I think I'm getting your point though. He did something wrong and we need to punish him but we need to give him a little space too. Duly noted. All right, Gohan, you're officially on Trunks Watch today."
Gohan nodded and gave her a mocking salute while I frowned next to him, glancing down at the table. Don't get me wrong – I was happy that everything had worked out for the best and that Trunks was going to be taken care of ( and that, to be honest, he wasn't going to be with us – I know I wasn't really giving him the benefit of the doubt but all I had seen of him was a bratty spoiled child ) but I was also wishing that it didn't have to involve Gohan going away. I mean, not that Goten was bad or anything or that there was anything wrong with him…
I just…
Goten wasn't bad. But he wasn't Gohan.
Which wasn't a bad thing.
Something jostled me, disrupting my confusing line of thoughts, and I twisted in my seat before standing up. I was only half-done but my appetite was gone, the nervousness and anxiousness over the rest of the day replacing it with a pit of lead. Goten grinned at me, clapping his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry Trunks," he said. "You'll be dressing fly after today, don't you worry."
"Uh… On second thought, Gohan…"
Everyone burst into laughter and I couldn't help but grin at Mother's off-hand comment. "I think I'll have enough sense to protect myself from that," I said quickly. "Everything he suggests, go for the opposite, right?"
"Hey! Come on, everyone's always picking on me…"
Mother smiled, stacking some of the dirty plates on the table before pausing a moment to slid her wallet from her pocket. Flipping it open, she slipped out a silver card and handed it to me. "Unless you decide to buy out an entire store there's no way you're going to hit the limit. Any problems, give me a call."
"Yes Ma'am," Goten said, giving her a salute before grabbing my arm. I stared at the card for a moment while stepping back, amazed at the wealth that was just so casually handed to me. Money wasn't something we worried about in my own time, but that was more because no one had any money to worry about. Those who did knew better than to try to squeeze blood from a rock, or so to speak.
We stepped outside into the crisp air and I smiled, pocketing the card. It was early October and the leaves were just starting to turn, orange and red highlighting some of the still-stubborn green that clung to the trees. There was a small chuckle beside me and I glanced over; Goten was fishing something out of his pocket and, after finding it, he grinned and held up a small capsule. "Ready to roll?"
"Yeah." There was a 'pop' and a flash and a plane appeared, more than large enough for both of us to fit in with room for bags in the back. Of course it was meant for two other passengers as well, but I still marveled as I eased into the passenger seat. "More than ready. I think I'm starting to go a little stir-crazy around here."
"Yeah, well, one week of non-stop Briefs will do that to you," he remarked idly, looking up to check on the flight diagnostics before engaging the auto-pilot. "You know how to fly, right?"
"Huh? Yeah, of course."
"You don't have to sit back and let everyone else take control, then." I blinked, confused, as the plane lifted off from the ground. "You know how to run your own life. Why are you even still staying here?"
"Here? You mean with my family?" Goten shrugged, his expression curiously unreadable.
"Sure, if you want to call it that." I opened my mouth to interrupt but he continued blithely on. "I've heard the stories, I know you could go and live on your own easily. I mean, it wouldn't be as easy as living with a bunch of people who want to wait on you hand and foot but at some point that has to become-"
"Old," I finished, nodding. "I know. I don't… I don't know what I'm doing Goten."
"Without some sort of world-threatening monster to focus on it sort of gives you a bit too much freedom, huh?" he remarked idly. I sucked on my lower lip before nodding in agreement. Way too much freedom – and this was ignoring the fact that I still had no idea why I was even here.
"Well, no point dwelling on such things." Goten's tone changed abruptly as he jerked the plane to the side. I grimaced and braced myself, hands and knees jammed against the sidedoor, to keep from slipping. "We're free for the day. No annoying Gohan, we don't have to worry about Bulla or Trunks, and we have an unlimited spending limit. Let's go crazy. Paint the town red or some shit."
"I remember Orange City being kind of big," I remarked wryly. "That would take an awful lot of paint and I think they'd be a little upset since it's not called 'Red City.'"
"Ha! Ha ha! A joke! You are so funny Trunks. Just a laugh an hour." He drummed his fingers along the console before looking at me. "Seriously, you're hilarious and all, but try to control yourself. The natives won't know what hit them."
"You're such a freak." The words just rolled out as I shook my head. Goten stuck his tongue out in response.
"Maybe. To the mall!"
I braced myself again, making a mental note to grab the wheel from Goten on the way home – flying a plane the same way you would fly sans vehicle was ridiculous. Honestly, if this was how he flew normally I would probably still feel the same trepidation around him. It was amazing we were still in the air; I didn't know you could make such sharp turns in a plane.
There was a rather sharp jolt as we landed on an empty stretch of pavement and I turned to glare at the sheepish Son. He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck, before shrugging. "Any landing you can walk away from, right?" he said and I rolled my eyes before stepping down. There was a momentary stumble as I regained my orientation – apparently the flying ( or, with the way Goten had gone, lack of it ) had messed my balance up more than I thought possible. Another 'pop' and the plane vanished back inside its capsule, secure in Goten's hand.
"Give me that," I muttered, snatching it from his open palm as he grinned. "You are so not flying us home. And why do we even have to bother with this?" I asked, slipping it inside my pocket.
"Well, despite everything that happened with Cell and Buu-"
"Buu?"
"Uh, yeah. I'll explain that but, you know, another evil megalomaniac who wanted to destroy the world. Anyway, people still aren't really used to seeing people flying around and throwing energy around like it's something normal. Cause it isn't, really." He shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. "At tournaments we try to keep from showing too much power but it's also a different audience there so it's not as much of a taboo-breaker if we slip up. Plus, I'm fairly certain Bulma expects us to get enough to fill up a wardrobe for you and we could fly back and carry all that but it would be a ton easier if we just loaded it into the plane and flew back that way."
"True… okay, so, you're supposed to be my guide right now, much as that thought frightens me." He made another face as we walked slowly toward the large building. I had thought my ( their? ) home was impressive – the domed private capsule corp. buildings would have easily fit inside the several-story tall skyscrapers that towered before us. "Because I will… step inside and be lost within moments."
"It's not that bad," Goten assured as we stepped up to a set of large glass doors. Pushing them open, he continued: "The third floor is pretty much were all of the men's clothing is, though fifth is where we need to stop first. Haircut, remember?"
"Just the entire third floor, huh?" I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone. "And no, unless you've decided you want to lop off that spikey 'do there's no reason to visit the stylist."
"But Bulma said-"
"I know what Mother said. I was sitting there. I'm just going to ignore that bit of advice from her."
Goten stared at me, looking a bit flummoxed, as I pushed back him into the crowded mall. "But… But, Trunks, you looked like a confused sheepdog half the time," he finally got out and I paused, glancing back at him. To emphasis his point he took a hold of two chunks of his hair, pulling them down to cover his eyes. "Really. It's ridiculous."
"You're not one to speak," I said defensively, brushing my hair back from my face as I flushed. "You look like you stuck a fork in an outlet and decided that going to be your look du-jour. For the year. And ever."
"Yeah, that one was smooth." Goten shook his head. "Your funeral, not mine. But I'm not going to have your back when Bulma rains her fury down on you demanding to know why you still look like… like…"
"A confused sheepdog?" I offered helpfully, and he nodded.
"That's right. A confused sheepdog. At least try to… I mean, how can you even see? Is that part of your training, learning to move without sight?"
"Oh ha ha shut up," I grumbled, shoving him forward and toward the escalator.
Large gatherings of people weren't really… a good idea in my time. The androids had a tendency to go from city to city, picking off the biggest building only after scaring the inhabitants of the city into it. Going through the wreckage was an exercise in stomach strength; the stench of the dead bodies alone was difficult enough to bear, especially when the days grew hot and they were pinned between rubble and trapped under twisted metal. Putrification would set in quickly then and, on top of the gag-inducing odor, the bodies wouldn't be found simply whole, or even torn and rendered from the incident.
It became mandatory for everyone to get a complete dental X-ray every year until they turned eighteen. It was often the only way we could identify their bodies.
As we reached the third floor I flinched, shoulders tensing and chest tightening as my body braced itself for the inevitable as the mall opened up before us. Throngs of people milled about, teens chatting animatedly in groups while older couples strolled leisurely along; parents chased after their children and toddlers screamed in strollers. It was a cacophony of noise and all of it was full of life. No one was screaming in pain or crying for help or begging for mercy or-
"Are… you okay?" A hand grazed along the back of my neck and I flinched violently. Goten jerked his hand back, biting down on his lower lip, and I wanted to kick myself for my knee-jerk reaction. "Sorry, you just sort of-"
"No, no, it's okay," I mumbled. "Let's do this fast. The sooner we get this part done the sooner we can go hang out someplace-" quieter "-more… secluded before going back home." It came out a bit wrong, but as long as it meant we got out of here…
Goten brightened, smiling crookedly before grabbing my arm and pulling me along behind him. "Don't worry, shopping's a breeze with me," he assured me, making a small gesture with his free hand. "I mean, all we need to go is figure out your pants size and shirt size and then just get lots of the same thing in different colors."
I didn't really mean to have the reaction I did to that statement, but I suddenly wished again that maybe Gohan had been the one to come along instead of Goten. My brows drew up, knitting together, and I didn't even realize that I was lowly letting out a rather terse 'eh' for a moment. "… well, yes, that is… one way of doing it."
"Don't tell me your one of 'those' people." He made a face while hooking his fingers in the air to emphasis the word 'those'. "I would have thought that you would be safe."
"I… honestly don't know what you mean by those people."
"You know, the ones that take forever to shop because you have to try everything on and you have to go to every store to make sure you're getting the best price, the best fit, yadda yadda yadda, the end."
I shook my head as he made a vague hand gesture, thumb and forefingers of his right hand clapping together. "Well, um… no. I just don't want to get eight copies of the same shirt."
"… fair enough."
It was a far less painful process than I had predicted it would be – Goten shied away from the higher-end stores, the places that I guessed Mother would have preferred me to purchase my shiny new clothing, but he certainly knew his way around several of the lower-end and more comfortable selections. A few pairs of jeans, one seat of dress pants and one khaki, along with a wide variety of both long and short-sleeved tees with a few button-up dress shirts thrown in the mix. Nothing incredibly fancy, but I wasn't used to fancy and I didn't want to dress up just to fit the part.
And Goten had gotten me thinking. He was right – why was I staying there ( besides the obvious reasons of 'I had no other place to go' and 'I had no money' )? Maybe it was time to consider leaving instead of just pretending I truly was just another Briefs child.
"All right, so…" We walked from the last stores, bags being awkwardly juggled in Goten's arms as I stared and tried not to giggle. "We have everything, right?"
"I think I have more than enough to last me," I said, nodding.
"Good." He smiled and suddenly thrust his hands out, dumping the bags into my arms. It was unexpected and I stumbled from the sudden weight increase. "Go put these in the plane and then meet me back at the food court."
"W-what?" I sputtered, shifting them around to see him better. "Why me? I barely know my way around this place!"
"And I'm just asking you to go outside – which is just down the escalator and through the door – and bring up the plane." Goten squeezed my shoulder, his smile growing. "Food court's on the second floor – you can't miss it. I'll be waiting for you there. Getting us food and all that. I would tell you to go but…"
I flushed and hissed something under my breath, insinuating that his father wasn't really his father, before twisting about and stomping toward the escalator. At the first store I had tried to pay for the clothing; credit cards were simple, right? Pay and you go. Except this one apparently required a Ph. D. in screw you Mother because three complex passcodes later and I was standing there dumbfounded while Goten was smiling all sweet and sugary and covering for my total screw-up. How he knew the secrets to unlocking her tangled mind while I didn't was a mystery ( that could probably be solved by the fact that he had known her for seventeen more years that I ) but it still meant that only he could use the card.
And he was making sure I knew it. Jerk.
Stepping off the stairs at the bottom, I paused for a moment as a wave of dizziness rushed over me. Leaning over, I tilted my head to the side while waiting for the blood to pump back to my head; all the noise around me was starting to turn hazy, bouncing in and out of focus in rhythm with my heart beat. Annoying and distracting but nothing worrisome until my vision started to blur, the edges laced in black and red.
Mother was standing in front of a group of people, employees of the Garrison Building. They were all smiling and laughing, hands raised to a toast.
"What?" I spun around, gaping at a group of passing teenage girls. They skirted away from me, the closet one gripping the sleeve of her friend before they all burst out in nervous laughter and hurried away.
An alarm went off, red lights bleeding across the features of all present. Someone jostled Mother and the glass slipped from her hand, shattering on the floor.
I pressed a hand to my forehead and tried to breathe evenly.
Something exploded, hot air slamming into all of them, and Mother was thrown back across the metal catwalk as the glass was melted by the sudden wave of heat.
"No!"
"And do you mind telling me just what I did wrong?"
I opened my eyes – I wasn't even aware that I had closed them – to find myself staring down at a rather annoyed-looking red-head. She was five two, maybe five three, had bright green eyes to match the vivid red, and had something that looked cold on top of being blue and wet dripping down the front of her shirt. A half-empty and crushed plastic cup was in her hand and, glancing down, I saw traces of the same substances on one of my plastic bags.
Oh. Whoops. "I… I am so sorry…"
"Yeah, damn straight you're sorry." She stared at the cup for a moment, looking slightly forlorn, before glancing back at me and scowling. "You owe me a new drink and a new shirt."
"Oh… okay, well-"
"This stuff stains. Don't try to tell me you'll just pay for dry cleaning because you can but it'll just be a waste of money. This shirt will never be the same."
"That's fine but-"
"And don't even try to tell me that you don't have the money. Just look at you," she said, gaze running over the evidence of my shopping spree. "You're loaded. You can afford one measly shirt."
"Okay," I said quickly, hoping to cut her off. "That's fine. That's all fine. But, right now, I have to go put these out in my…. car. And after I do that I can go get you your…. drink and shirt. Is that a fair deal?"
Giving her drink one last slurp, the woman tossed the ruined plastic cup into a nearby trash can before placing her hands on her hips. "Hei," she said abruptly, chin lifted to stare at me expectantly.
"… excuse me?"
"Hei. It's my name. Customarily people respond with theirs after one's given."
"Oh. Uh…" I paused a moment, a quick mental debate over whether to be Trunks or Mirai occurring. She was a stranger – a stranger – but… "I'm… Trunks." She quirked a brow and I sighed; that was the reaction I was afraid of. "Not that Trunks."
"Well of course not," she said blithely. "You're too old. And your terms are acceptable," Hei continued on. "I'll just walk with you to your car."
"Oh. Oh, you really don't have to-"
"No," Hei interrupted, smiling sweetly. "I don't. But I also don't want you running off while you owe me a drink and a new shirt, now do I?"
I opened my mouth to respond and she just tilted her head to the side, waiting expectantly. "I… I guess that's okay." Sucking on my upper lip, I turned and walked to the doors, pushing them open with my shoulder while she followed in suit, the sickly sweet smile still plastered on her face. "My car's just on the other side of the…" Crap. Well, this was going to be awkward.
"I don't mind walking." She shrugged and I sighed as I tried to run through reasonable explanations. It seemed like most people actually used regular cars, or maybe hovers, and as fantastic and useful as capsules were most people didn't seem to just whip them out of their pockets and produce full-size aircrafts.
I could break into a car. No door lock would be able to stop me. The alarm system would probably give me away but I could just pretend I forgot how to turn it off…
"So what was going on back in there?" I blinked and glanced over at her. Hei was looking over at me, green eyes wide with curiosity, and as our gazes met she gave a little shrug. "You know, the whole freak out and scare the small children thing you had going on. Not that I don't enjoy a good horror show, but Halloween's not for another couple weeks."
"I wasn't… I was?" I asked, feeling myself blush again ( it was starting to become a trend ) as she nodded enthusiastically.
"Yeah. Full on, twisting around, shouting at people… security may have been alerted. So. What's the deal?"
"I just… cannot find my car." Dropping my hands down, I turned away from her and let out a frustrated sigh. "We parked right here and now-"
"No you didn't." Hei arched a brow, arms crossed over her chest. "You're deflecting to try to change the subject."
"Oh really?"
"If you had really lost your car you would be panicking a bit more and you just told me with that statement," she pointed out, lifting one hand to shaking her finger at me. "Did you even come here in a car? But more importantly, the freak out?"
"I thought you just wanted a free shirt." Growing more annoyed with her attitude, I threw caution to the wind and took out the capsule, popping the plane out. Hei's eyes widened but she remained calm as I stepped in to toss the bags onto the seats in the back. "Right, so, I was lying. Are you happy? Is there a reason you're going up to a stranger and interrogating them?"
Hei shrugged. "Well, when that stranger slammed a full blue-raspberry slushy down the front of my shirt, I'd say I have reason." I scowled, recapsulizing the plane, and she grinned. "Besides, you really were freaking out back there. Call it sick curiosity but I want to know. Walking nightmare?"
"You could say that," I mumbled, shoving my hand into my pocket. "I just… I don't really like being around a lot of people."
She nodded and made a 'hmm'ing noise, acting like she understood what I was saying, moreso than even I did. I scowled, angry, and started back toward the mall. "Hey, wait-"
"Yeah, I know, your shirt," I said, angrier than I originally meant. Immediately after I winced and turned back to her, hands held up to keep her from interrupting. "I… I'm sorry, I'm just having a-"
"Here." Hei was in front of me, eyes staring up into my own, and her right hand was bent out from her chest with a small slip of paper held between her fore and middle finger. After a moment of hesitation I gingerly picked it out and unfolded it. "It's my number. You should call me sometime."
"… your number?" I folded it back up and frowned. "You're giving me your number?"
"Consider that a fair trade for the ruined shirt, but only if you call me." Hei smiled, a rather tight expression, before reaching up to clap me on the shoulder. "I'll see you later Trunks." She gave my shoulder another pat before slipping away, weaving through the throngs of cars to disappear into the parking lot.
Phone number. "Right." Putting it into my pocket, I made a face when I remembered that Goten was waiting for me – impatiently and worriedly at this point – back in the mall. Spinning on my heel I sprinted back inside, ignoring the looks shot my way from the individuals who had been there for my 'freak out', as Hei put it. The teenage girls were still there, stepping out of a small eyewear shop, and they all paused to titter amongst themselves as I passed.
Fantastic.
"Trunks? Oi, hey, Trunks!" I paused a moment once off at the second floor and smiled as I heard Goten shouting for me. In my mind I pictured him, stretched up and waving to catch my attention. Sure enough, when I straightened and looked over he was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, one hand waving energetically in the air. "Over here!"
"Heh, Goten." Walking over, I smiled and slid down into one of the plastic chairs surrounding a tiny square table. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I got tied up."
"Dropping the clothing off? What happened?" He sat down as well, pushing a tray with a few burgers and two large drinks toward me. I grabbed one of the cups and took a long sip, grimacing at the overly-sweet taste of coke.
"I ran into a girl." Goten gaped and I shrugged, deciding against adding in the parts about how I lost my mind in the middle of the crowd. "She walked me to the plane and gave me her number."
"Ah… oh." I had thought he would laugh or quiz me about it – a girl, Trunks? What was she like? – but the teen seemed to deflate in front of me, shoulders slumping and head tilting forward some. "Sounds like you had fun."
"… she was kind of creepy. Like, just came up out of no where and just shoved the number into my hand without asking."
"Oh." He blinked and looked up at me. "You didn't ask her for it? She just gave it to you?"
"Yeah. I didn't know what to do – can you just refuse it when someone does that?" I shook my head before snagging a fry. "Really, I just took it because I was too confused to do otherwise."
"Aww, did the scary lady scare poor Trunks?" Goten teased, grinning again. I rolled my eyes and threw the fry at him.
"Shut up and eat so we can get out of here. I'm a little tired of being inside."
