Their wide eyes locked, the room falling to an intense hush. Feeling beads of sweat collect on his forehead, he somehow found his voice enough to say,"Um, you can take a seat now..."

Hastily nodding, she found a seat in the front row, all eyes on her as she sat down and laid her books on the surface of the desk. As shocked as she feigned to be, she knew this was too perfect. On the outside, she appeared frightened and astonished, but inside there was that same diabolical snicker of mischeif each time her eyes averted to his and snapped back. She was quiet for the remainder of the class, since they were only filling out name tags and things about them. Hiding a smirk, she didn't think she really had to fill anything out for him, but passing the chance to taunt him wasn't on her agenda.

The bell rang and all the girls jumped up to lay their sheets on his desk as he felt a weight lift off him. Then he looked at her, guilt striking him when he saw her less than joyed face. Swallowing his logic and following his heart, as he had always done before, he called her name and motioned her to his desk. She gave him a blank stare, but he almost sensed a sort of satisfaction. Maybe he just wanted to.

"Bra.. I realize that the media went off about us...And your father didn't exactly take it well, but I would really feel better if we had a common ground about it and weren't so..."

"Awkward?"

He blinked,"Uh, yes. Awkward. I mean, you might not feel awkward like I do, but you didn't look too happy to be in here, and for that I'm sorry-"

"Gohan."

"-...Yes?"

A smile raised the corner of her lips, which were slightly crimson with lip colour, and it was then that he realized she had grown up ever so slightly. He could tell the second she walked into his classroom. It wasn't her increased height, or the noticeable blossom her chest had taken, but it was in her eyes. It was a pleasant change, only a slight one, and he couldn't take his eyes or mind off of it.

Keeping her cerulean eyes on his, feeling the adrenaline of the game flowing through her with every step she made toward him, she tried to suppress her glowing smirk in order to maneuver her lips as she had always imagined...

And she kissed his cheek.


"Kami damnit...What is going on in there ?!" Bulma pressed on the horn, feeling anxious the way only a celebrity mother would. Sending multiple glares at the obvious paparazzi-mobiles, she got out her Capsule Corp. phone and dialed Bra. No answer. After about ten more calls, and a few choice curse words, Bulma shuffled out of the car and toward the school, only to see Bra practically skip down the front stairs.

Raising an eyebrow and setting her hands on her hip as she usually did to Trunks and Vegeta, Bulma had the question written all over her face.

"What ?" Bra asked with an innocent confusion that neither of the men had. Rolling her eyes but accepting it, Bulma turned and walked toward the car, a maniacal grin falling upon Bra's face.

Then the cameras started flashing, earning Bra's middle finger as the car drove off.

He wrung his hands through his hair, the sweat gathering on his forehead like a plague of locusts. Breathing got harder and harder to do as the thoughts collided in his spinning mind, tormenting him, destroying him, giving him no room for any logic or understanding of it. This always happened after he woke up from that same dream, and he knew it, but he had no way of stopping it. It tortured him, how she had all this power over his lack of control, and yet she was no where to be seen.

Remnants of his office were strewn about the lab, remnants destroyed in his bout of rage.

But he still felt her beneath him, squirming and writhing with all the strength she had, vainly.

And now here he was, trying to attempt the same resistence to it, but he was just as powerless as she had been.

"FUCK."

An explosion of tile and glass flew about the lab from his ki blast. All of this was her fault, even then it had been her fault. His lack of reason, his lack of control over what he felt...

And now he saw it happening all over again.

His eyes snapped to the portrait of his younger sister, her shimmering aqua locks of hair falling wistfully around her beautifully constructed face, and the piercing glaze of confidance in her eyes said that she knew it as well.

But he knew why. He knew alot more than she thought he did, then again they were blood. However many differences they had because of their genders were set aside by the familial behaviors they shared. It was just too obvious, at least to him. He just didn't understand what she wanted, however...

Click.

He snapped out of his pondering trance to the direction of the sound, but before he could focus on any ki detection his mother walked into his office, her eyes bewildered as they sweeped the office's current state.

"My Kami...Looks like a tornado came through here. What the hell happened Trunks?"

He swallowed, unclenching his fists,"Ah, nothing. Just toying around with this and that."

She nodded, not surprised.

"I'll get a bot to clean it up, don't worry. I'm done here for tonight."

With that, he strode out of the office and sight, leaving no further explanation for his confused mother.

Smirking to herself, she put her camera away, sweeping blonde bangs out of her eyes, and went back to her secretary desk.


A deep sigh escaped her lips, now wiped clean of the colour she had put on them this morning. Her eyes went over the essay subject for the umpteenth time as she bit her lip with restlessness.

"What You Did This Summer...Kami, what kind of boring subject is this?" She asked to the empty bedroom, hearing her thoughts reply to her in her head.

'Only boring because I made it so...'

"Not my fault I am oversheltered now."

Her eyes closed a she sighed, feeling the insurmountable urge to throw it away, see the 0F on the paper and give an Oops speech to her mother. Blame it the fact that she had no life now, perhaps ?

...No.

She forgot who her teacher was. Until now.

A smirk that rose so slow to her lips she kept until her entire page was neatly written with scribbles of delicate torture, and her grade for it would be more than a number...


"You're. Kidding. Me."

Her face held a curved smile and curiously raised eyebrows, patiently awaiting his critique. Swallowing incessant amounts of saliva was all he knew to do in those long 10 seconds before he could form a sentence.

"Is- Is this fiction ? HEH, I mean... What, Bra? What is this?!"

A turquoise eyebrow slanted upward and her eyes rolled up toward the ceiling in consideration before she slightly bent forward and laid her hands on the desk, pointing to the cursive title of her paper, "It's exactly what the topic says it is."

He collapsed back in his chair, frustrated in more ways than one over this display of taunting.

She stood back up, folded her arms for a few seconds with a less than amused look on her face, and then slammed the desk.

"Seems to me you haven't fucking read it thoroughly..," She declared, sternly before adding in a softer tone of mock sincerity,"So I will read it for you."

His eyes narrowed.

She cleared her throat,"Ahem...

"A summer of love is the only summer memorable enough to mention. It is the honour a girl must achieve in order to call herself a woman by any means. It is the only thing strong enough to evoke true completion in someone, for this kind of beauty reflects on both sides of the mirror. This summer, I met a boy, no, a man.. He had a name that is bold enough to be shouted in a storm, but gentle enough to be murmured in a moment of passion. I found him in a situation of utter chaos, emotional and physical. Yet I still found something in my heart that told me he is a keeper. He has a past I could only hope to hear one day. He has an eye of observation I could never challenge, nor take for granted. His eyes hold the darkest shade of onyx, but behind them is a light that could blind the sharpest vision. My love reached for that light but it never grasped it before the end of this summer. And so, I lie waiting in my ever-spinning globe of being a undiscovered vessel for this man and the love I know he has, and will have for me."

He couldn't get his eyes up to look at her, knowing they wouldn't leave.

"Look..," He started through his teeth, trying to keep a composure of his role as a teacher,"I like it, okay ? It's just very unspecific, and missing such an ending, Bra. I mean, fuck, this deserves hardly a D for how short it is!"

Her face was blankly curious but held a glint of confidence within its expression,"You want me to elaborate..."

"Precisely. Can I ask that ?"

"Do you want pictures ?"

"If you could, yea...Great. Freaking something..."

Her eyes narrowed for a split second before snapping into transition to the door,"Okay. I'll turn it in tomorrow. If you're lucky I'll make a night delivery for you later..Ta-ta."

Even after she was long gone, the flare of anxious nausea wouldn't leave his stomach, and whose presence was there for many reasons out of his reach.


"So how did your first essay go ?" Bulma asks Bra as she just sits down to eat.

Bra's head tilts, her eyes lowering,"Beautifully..."

Bulma stops and looks at Vegeta, surprised slightly. Although this was good news, she couldn't help but be paranoid about the good things.

"Ah, well. Excellent, dear. Trunks did I clean your office, I can't recall."

He simply nodded, his face completely directed to his plate of food.

"So talkative, my boys," Rolling her eyes, Bulma shook her head. After sighing, she suddenly brightened.

"Oh! Bra, I forgot to mention that I'll be inviting Son Gohan over since he's your teacher and all."

She suddenly snapped out of her confident array, her eyes slightly widening with a panic that seemed unprecendented.

"Uh.."

"Oh, come on. Don't even worry, this won't be a conference of any sort. Just catching up and all," Bulma's eyebrows rose up slowly in concern at Bra's pale face.

"I.. have to go do something."

Grabbing her backpack, she slammed the house door and thundered out into the streetlit night.


Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

"Hm, what's this about now..?"

Having forgotten the proposal from earlier, he opened the door to find the front page picture of the newspaper screaming at him.

It was the image of him and Bra, the day of Videl's funeral merely 3 months ago.