Author's note: Thank you to those who have diligently read this story. I'm sorry that it took so long for me to update this. As always I appreciate all who read this chapter. Please feel review and PM me. Please tell me what your thoughts are. I need feedback on this piece. Enjoy ^-^

"May I move like a thief in the night, just this once.", Trunks prayed to himself as he remembered what happened just days before.

The end of the rusted flat-head driver slowly met the head of the tiny screw. Sweat collected on the brim of his lavender brow and the crease of his nose. His hands ached with anticipation as his clutch tightened on his piece of work, born in secret. His right hand cupped the screen of the small green disk resting in his left palm. The blue iridescence glowing arrow was undeniable.

"Yes!",

He struggled to soften his excitement as six red balls appeared on the radar he had re programmed; He slipped it into his breast pocket inside of his gi. Trunks eased from the bench he had kneeled on. His free hand fumbled underneath the steel seat.

Bang!

He squeezed his eyes shut after the echo permeating his ears, possibly condemning him to some unknown fate. He withdrew his hand, as if the noise itself burned his reddened clumsy knuckles. Composure allowed him to finish the simple task at hand. Trunks eased onto his feet, leaving behind the neatly folded clothes that she had given him. He dared not to make another peep. He approached the plain chest, tucked underneath the shadow of the stairwell. The metal drawer scrubbed against the frame of the chest. His fingers jittered at the sound of the obnoxious screeching. His eyes peered over his shoulder still, although the sound of KJ's soft breath tickled his ears.

You I'm certain about, he thought as his pupils rested on her curled up form. But you, not so much…, he questioned as he studied Gru's silent, motionless body lying just a few feet away.

He couldn't take his eyes off of the seemingly simple, even ornamental balls that everyone he has ever known had sought after. He was no stranger to them, yet he couldn't help but allow his mind to wonder. He cradled the four star ball in the palm of his hand.

Not very heavy, he pondered to himself, are they even made of stone?

The glassy, smooth ball rolled from his palm back to its surprisingly obscure hiding place with the flick of his wrist. Trunks' knees were locked. He turned around slowly, taking note of the eerie silence that had eloped among them.

"Phew…", he forced through his pursed lips after he heard it again.

The sound of soft snoring reached his ears again. Trunks was no longer faced with her closed eyes, but the cascades of hair sweeping off of her back. His eyes wondered to the bag he knew was stuffed underneath her bunk. He refused to allow the dragon balls become an afterthought in his racing mind, but he couldn't help to ease closer to where she slumbered. He stood over her, counting her each passing breath. He knelt and carefully pulled her leather messenger bag out into the dim light. In silence he pulled the flap off of the bag and slipped the small book from it, the one he had gotten all too familiar with, finding the last page he allowed his eyes to skim over.

Dear Jax,

Gru and I tried to disable the transducer today, but we barely got away. I miss the days when I could open the window to my room and fly away from it all. Is this what's it's like to be normal? I hope to write you again soon, but I can't make promises. Pen is almost all used up… must find another.

Already read that…

Dear Jax,

Gru says he can lead me to Estella. I'll let him stay…

And?

Dear Jax,

I think I saw…

Nope. Next.

Dear Jax,

I am sorry. That's all. I can still feel you…

Trunks brushed his fingers across the dark ink that had been scribbled in haste as if he tried to feel the words on those aged pages. He brought himself to flip quickly toward the back, ignoring the many words.

Dear Jax,

I want to tell you that I'm…

Wait. No, this is not relevant to me… Stop being nosey, whether it is for her sake or my own. Skip…

Dear Jax,

I dreamed about Estella last night, but that's not entirely unusual right? It was in an actual bed! You'll never guess where I've been, and who I got to see!...

Now we're getting somewhere…tell me who you are.

I got to see…

Fuck! It's wet.

Trunks' covered his eyes with his hand, pushing down the urge to throw the book to the ground. Nearly four pages of the hardy album were ruined with smeared ink, a faint letter here and there were decipherable. He brought himself to continue.

Dear Jax,

He accidently came back with me. It's been four days since then. I can't believe he's here. I just can't. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise because… because I was ready. Never mind… Now we can operate the ship to hopefully get Estella. With three we can take care of that transducer! We're leaving tomorrow! You never knew how right you were when you told me that hope was something that can be the throne of your soul, if you let it.

Trunks squeezed the book shut as its spine rested in his palm. He slid the book back into her leather satchel and pushed it back under the bench with his boot. He folded himself over her curled up form. He gently pulled the tattered sheet away from her cheek, draping it around her neck instead for reasons even he did not understand.

"We leave tomorrow…I did not listen once.", he whispered as he sat back down to the bench where he once laid. He slipped his boots off as quietly as he had put them on. His eyes wondered to the drawer that he left ajar, holding their treasure.

"Not so glamorous now…", he thought aloud as the golden hue reflected in his guilty eyes.

"I'm sorry, that it took me so long to come over, Bulma."

Gohan readjusted his position in the high back leather office chair. Bulma continued to mull over the numerous physics schematics that he brought from the university. Gohan twiddled his fingers over the tiny hole in his shirt pocket. Gohan stared into the eyes of the dear family friend he'd known since he was a small boy, yet he tried to cover the small hole with his knitted green vest. He couldn't forget that Bulma is the heir to the capsule corp. fortune, regardless of how he tried.

"I know that this was on short notice, but at least you're here now."

Bulma tried to smile at him through her uncharacteristically steep features. Gohan adjusted his heavy glasses, giving her the classic son grin while he drug his hand across the back of his head.

"You look just like your father…", Bulma said as if to remind him.

"Mom says that too…but you're right, Bulma. There is a riff in the electromagnetic stream, but it's not like the riff that Mirai Trunks passed through to reach us. We could pass through it with one of our time machines, but there is no guarantee that it will take us to where they are currently."

"Instead of a riff in the time stream it's as if they went through some king of portal…", she confirmed.

"Exactly."

"Is there anything else that I can help you with?"

"I can tell you what you can help her with…", his unmistakable voice rang from the doorway.

Bulma did not flinch at the coarse voice that scrubbed their ears. Gohan clenched his cup a little bit tighter although he had heard that tone many times over the years.

"Trunks has been missing for nearly two weeks, and Bra literally seeped through my fingers! Figure this shit out!", Vegeta snapped. Gohan's smile faded. Affinity took it' s place as Pan's happy voice echoed in his vivid imagination.

"Vegeta…". Bulma's seething whisper seemed to hang in the air, "Where are you going, now?"

Vegeta pulled out drawer after drawer in the workshop, but it still eluded him.

"Doing something useful… Going to find those damn balls."

"The radar should be on my desk.", she chided him. Bulma closed her eyes and drank from her cup, paying little mind to the swirling chaos of printed designs and grease that he was creating.

"… It's not."

Her eyes fluttered open.

"You've lost it woman…"

Bulma pushed past both men as she made her way to her cluttered desk. Even her desperate rummaging seemed well controlled.

"It was right here.", she assured herself, " The spare radar is in my workshop…"

Vegeta withdrew his gloved hand from his pocket, and the shimmering lure caught Gohan's quaint brown eyes as he walked out of the lab.

"Vegeta!", Gohan called, although Vegeta had continued down the hallway. Gohan leapt from the creaking office chair, catching up to the older man. Vegeta continued to stalk down the corridor as if Gohan wasn't even present.

"I must have dropped it…".

Vegeta's eyes narrowed under his grim brows. He turned on his heel to face Gohan. Vegeta rolled the devilish piece of jewelry between his fingers, eager to unleash his scorn on the mild mannered professor.

"Wha-"

Vegeta was silenced. His mouth hung wide open in the sight of what Gohan had recovered from his own pocket.

"-Fell from my pocket…", Gohan continued as if he was in a stupor, dumbfounded at the indigo duplicate that rested in his palm.

"Tell me… where did you get that?"

Vegeta's voice was slow. Gohan contemplated the malice he saw forming in Vegeta's eyes as he stared at the second purple stone.

"It was a gift from Mr. Piccolo when I was young…"

Both of Bulma's hands rested on her desk. She stared at the empty spot that once held her radar. She brushed her fingers across the dust free space.

"Trunks-kun…", she said with intrigue

His name stung her stained lips.

"Vegeta! Come back! Trunks might have the other radar!",

She dashed to the hallway, only to run into the wall that was Vegeta's chest. Vegeta scooped her into his arms. Gohan waited by the doorway.

"What are you doing?", she gasped with surprise.

"We are leaving to see the Namekian…Let's go woman."

"MY NAME IS BULMA. B-U-L-M-A. BULMA!"

Her cheeks grew red with frustration, but she draped her arms around his neck with care.

"Don't remind me…", he rolled his eyes.

"Vegeta… if you drop me…"

"Have I ever…?", he barked at her, interrupting her soft voice.

"No you haven't…"

A warm smile spread across her face, before she caressed his stubbly cheek with her soft lips.

"…damn you", he growled, " You're always catching me off guard…"

Gohan's dark eyes softened at the sight of a man who has slayed entire planets blush.

Gohan tiptoed onto the porcelain tiled surface of the lookout. Vegeta followed closely behind him, tapping down just seconds after. He pulled his arm from beneath the scientist's legs, allowing her to hop from his left forearm. Bulma put her hands on her hips and proceeded to follow Gohan across the tile, just as Vegeta was doing.

"They're probably sleeping…", Bulma concluded as she looked at the eerily empty tower.

"No, Mr. Piccolo is usually awake."

"Oh, he will be…", Vegeta sulked.

Bulma and Vegeta walked underneath the shadow of the dome, following in Gohan's footsteps. Gohan, rapped on the door with his knuckles. His hands found his pockets while they waited. The door creaked open.

"Gohan! I haven't seen you in a few days. How are you? I must tell Piccolo that you are here."

"Hello, Dende. It's nice to see you too.", Gohan responded.

Dende wedged the door open. His eyes were filled with fright as Vegeta's scowling face came into view.

"Piccolo is actually who we need to see…", Gohan continued.

Dende held the door open and they passed by him one by one. Gohan traversed the small domed building as if it was his own home. Vegeta walked behind him with crossed arms. Bulma's curiosity slowed her pace. She understood Vegeta's silent nod, his request for her to keep up.

Gohan led them to a rounded doorway carved out of the chalky wall. Piccolo sat meditating in the small, empty white room.

" Piccolo sensei…", Gohan said with a bow.

Come in, Piccolo waved with two of his long green fingers. Gohan crossed his legs and sat before his friend. Vegeta lingered in the door, for a moment, then followed suit. Bulma sat on her knees, next to Vegeta.

"What brings you at this time, Gohan?", Piccolo asked softly.

"Trunks is missing.", Gohan began before swallowing hard, "And bra has been taken away…"

"Yes, I know… Goku has made us aware- to look out for them."

"Bra has been sucked inside…", Vegeta interrupted as he pulled the purple gem from his pocket.

"How did you get this?", Piccolo hissed. His eyes edged to Gohan.

"Piccolo Sensei, I still have mine.", Gohan explained nervously as he removed it from his pocketed slacks.

Piccolo's face was painted with confusion.

"What the hell is this?", Vegeta demanded to know.

"This…", Piccolo began by snatching the gem between his long nails from Vegeta's palm, "is a Soarian key. On Namek, they are forged of trauma."

"Who made them?", Bulma asked calmly.

"They are not made. They are born of misfortune. They spawn from the dirt below on Namek. The stones in the dirt and the trees that hung above mourn when tears are shed. The planet itself captures the irritant and encapsulates it. Earth has gems formed in oysters… Each is a one of a kind, with different shapes and colors."

"Pearls?", she interjected.

"Yes… the pearls of Namek, so to speak."

"Gohan… when you sacrificed yourself to save him on Namek. He…"

"I cried. Yes.", Gohan readily admitted.

"They hold the sorrow within, "Piccolo continued, " They are good luck to anyone who holds one, but they are full of grave danger. For, if you hold great grief or even angst within and it is opened that person could be sucked into that world of grief, until the crime has been corrected. They should never be opened."

"So where is she?", Bulma said as she tried to hold back the tears that were brewing in her eyes.

"It depends", Piccolo began again, "Who opened it?"

"I did.", Vegeta Shut his eyes with scorn.

"She is in your grief whenever it was born… in your past. She for some reason, has found favor with the stone. It chose her to go in your place, Vegeta. Perhaps because it sees her future…"

Heavy tears erupted from Bulma's eyes. Dende peaked down the corridor, tempted to investigate her sobering cries. She doubled over as if she had been struck. Vegeta drew nothing but a blank stare as he imagined where in his life that she could be and what her life shall be like...

"In-in my past", Vegeta stuttered before barren silence took over the room.

Piccolo answered him with a solemn nod.

"Gohan has cared for this one for its entire life… yet he and I both hold it. How did Bra get this?", Piccolo broke the silence.

'She found it in the garden…", He replied as the wheels turned in his head, "that girl… that girl from the future…"