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 12
Middle of June | 201 Days Before

Pan jerked her head up, trying to shake off her sleep like a freshly bathed puppy who wasn't too fond of water. Sleep was fine; sleep was good. Sleep was all she did in the past few days and, well, she was tired of it.

As much as she liked building snowmen now and cozying up to a warm fire, she missed the summer sun and getting freckles on her face. She also missed training with Vegeta. Uub and Trunks were fine sparring partners for the time being, but they liked to do more than fight all day. Uub was adamant of wanting to roast marshmallows before they left, and Trunks seemed to be reading more than usual.

She liked to do other things too, but she left her camera charger in the yellow aircraft and she already explored enough of the mountain to not see it again for a while. Pan would've hung out with Marron, but the older girl had been opting to hang out with Bra in their shared room. Goten seemed to also be stuck in his room now that he returned from wherever he was. Not that she would talk to him anyway, but it was another closed option.

Pan could handle a lot of nonsense, but inactivity was simply not one of them. She was bored. Kind of hungry. Vacation or not, this trip was exhausting for the simple fact that there was nothing to do but be exhausted. Getting punched in the face sounded more appealing than being exhausted. Therefore, she would rather be training now.

She turned to the man beside her who was still asleep. His hair was beginning to grow out and without a trim, the patches of lilac strands that grew faster than the rest of his head began to curl at the end. A piece was scratching the tip of his nose so Pan decided to fix it for him.

Trunks looked so boyish when he slept. She hadn't noticed that until she shared a bed with him because she wanted to. Even when she had a crush and would find him napping around his office chairs, she never saw this kind of innocence in him. He looked peaceful, like the world was bright and he was dreaming of something sweet. It was different from the awake him that looked a bit too serious, or was smug about something just to be smug.

When he slept, he looked optimistic—if a person could look optimistic while being still. He looked like he only had one worry in the world and that's how happily he would take the next day. She watched him for a while, and hoped he was having a good dream. When she got up to get dressed, he reached for her and she blushed.

Trunks mumbled something she couldn't comprehend and then let go of his grip. He then turned and she saw his entire back. It was lovely, every muscle carved on his smooth skin and the line that ran down his spine. If a back could be attractive, then his would win every beauty contest by a landslide. She would never tell him though; as well as they transitioned from their friendship to this, there was just some things a woman kept to herself when it came to boyfriends. It was her little secret.

She walked to their shared bathroom and turned on the shower. She let the water hit her face before massaging her scalp with shampoo. She was trying to wash her hair when she heard a large bang at their front door. Pan quickly threw on her robe and a scowl, irritated by the intruder.

She then slammed the bathroom door back inside upon seeing Vegeta stand on top of their now broken front door, with an arm full of dragon balls. She knew Trunks was finally awake when he began to scream. Pan sighed, damning Dende. "I missed training with the old guy, not him. Geez," she mumbled.

When she finally got dressed and made it down to the lobby (her room was empty when she came out), she could see she wasn't the only one in the middle of a shower. Trunks was trying his best to apologize to the host for damages as Bra and Uub tried to ring out their hair. She felt a tap on her shoulder; Marron was handing her bag over. She blushed at the haphazardly packed travel bag with an open pocket that had a condom wrapper sticking out. Pan quickly restuffed everything as neatly as she could.

"Girl, carry these!" Vegeta ordered before throwing the dragon balls in the air. Pan did her best, but the four-star ball dropped on top of her nose. Her teacher then walked out and apparently, that was cue for everyone to follow.

"Here, give them to Giru," Pan looked up and saw Bra helping her off the ground. They still weren't talking yet, and she felt like she should've said something.

"Thanks," she said, and that was it. Bra gave all the remaining balls to Giru before walking outside to join everyone else. Pan frowned.

"Are you going to make up with her any time soon?" Trunks asked as he came behind her with a stack of receipts.

Pan frowned some more. Instead of telling him how much she missed her best friend, she said, "You shouldn't have paid for everything. I could've helped."

The two walked out and only grew more confused upon seeing Gohan and Piccolo shivering in the snow. Pan walked over to greet them, but it was cut off short when Vegeta ordered them to follow him back home to the Capsule Corp. compound. Her father's eyes trailed at Trunks before making off. She didn't know why, but that made her a little sad. She guessed a phone call wasn't a good notice to give somebody.

They all flew (without the yellow aircraft) back to West City and landed in the front steps before making way inside to the new Gravity Room. Pan and Bra said nothing of its new location, but Trunks was in awe of it. Vegeta then told them to change into something more comfortable before meeting back to the GR in five minutes. Goten was the only who was brave enough to ask why their break was cut so soon. Vegeta answered with a scowl and a barking order.

Pan naturally flew to the room she always slept in while she stayed with the Briefs. She changed out of her jeans and sweater into her shorts, sport bra, and weights. Inside was cool, but flying had made her sweat a little. She heard a knock on her door.

"Come in!" Pan yelled as she adjusted the straps of her boots. It had been some time since she wore them.

Gohan quietly made his way inside, smiling fondly at his daughter before rushing to greet her with a hug. The familiar smell of his cologne and cardigan sweater made her grin. It had been some time since she had a hug like this too. Gohan then sat down as she slid on her wristbands.

"Honey, we need to talk," her father started and Pan nodded for him to continue. As she zipped up her chest weight, she was surprised that Marron carried all of her equipment up so effortlessly. It had been a while since they went head to head. Gohan then gestured for her to sit down, and her smile faded.

"What's going on, Dad?" Pan asked carefully as she listened to sit. He tried to smile, but it wasn't reassuring her. Pan asked more specifically this time, "Is there something wrong?"

"How was the trip? Did you have fun?" he was avoiding the subject.

"Yeah, I had a great time," she answered as she studied his face, looking for any kind of tell. It was hard to read his expression, and she wished he would just spit it out already. "Is that… is that what you wanted to talk about?"

Gohan reached for her hand and she knew it was bad. It was always bad news when he reached for her hand like this. The last time he did, she was told that she couldn't use her powers while she was away at college. She retreated her palm, feeling uncomfortable.

"What's going on, Dad?" she asked again, more sternly this time.

"Your grandpa—Grandpa Satan—he's in the hospital," he said firstly to test the waters. If she was shaken by the information, she didn't show it.

"What is it?" she questioned, staring at him.

Gohan fidgeted. Her eyes were always a combination of his mother's and Videl's. They were dark and full like Chichi's, but they had the same serious shape like his wife's. It didn't help that he hated to disappoint those women; it only added to the unease of telling bad news to his daughter. Her eyes were like telling three important people bad news all at once.

"Cancer in his liver. Your mom took him to the doctor's today and they found it during an exam. They don't think the chemo will help as much, but he doesn't want to proceed with treatment anyway," he answered. He watched for any indication to tell him how she felt about it. She remained still.

"So he just wants to die?" Pan said, more to herself than anything. She wanted to shake her head in disbelief at the ridiculous notion of just waiting to die without a fight, but she didn't. She wanted to call him a coward, but she couldn't bring herself to. She quickly changed the subject, "Is that all?"

Gohan shook his head no. "I'm sorry," was the only thing he could muster up.

Pan prepared herself for some more talk.


He didn't even knock, and Trunks just sighed again as his father broke yet another room door of his. The old man's demeanor was hard and tough, but he was used to it. He was tying up his laces when Vegeta ordered him to sit down on his bed. At thirty-six, Trunks still listened to his daddy like a little boy.

"You need to stop with whatever you have with the girl now," his father said bluntly without much a cushion. He could've started with asking how the trip was, but Trunks knew he wouldn't.

"And why would I?" the younger asked as he tightened the bow of his sneakers.

"Because if I'm training the both of you, I need you to not be soft," Vegeta answered as if that was enough to suffice. When it wasn't, he added, "There's a new enemy. A strong one. We're all too old to protect you now."

Trunks paused for a moment. "Does everyone know what's going on?"

"They're being told now as we speak. Your mother is talking to your sister," Vegeta said shortly.

"How long do we have until they reach Earth?"

"Winter."

"Is Gohan telling her the same thing?"

"We've agreed its best."

"What if we don't want to break up?"

"We're not giving you a choice," Vegeta dismissed him before he could ask him another question. Trunks stared at his old man, repeating all the information given to him within the past minute. He broke the glance to stare at the door on the floor and then returned his gaze.

"I'm not ending it," he decided.

"Yes, you are," Vegeta corrected. "This isn't about your feelings, or how your premature relationship will save us all because it won't. We need you all at your best and as comrades. Nothing more."

"I'm not ending it, father." he repeated. Trunks stood up.

"You think you could do both?" the old man stared him. "If something were to happen where you had to choose between the girl and that android's child—"

"Marron," Trunks added for him.

Vegeta did break his glare. How childish this boy was. "If you had to choose between them to save, could you do it? Sure, you can try to save both but then you lose them in the process. Now you have two dead comrades instead of one. If you had to save one, who would you choose? Time's ticking."

Trunks didn't have an immediate answer. He knew who he wanted to save, but felt that was wrong. He was being biased. Then again, Pan was a better fighter and in the long run, she would be more useful. Then again, Marron was his friend. His best friend's fiance. How could he—

"Time's up. Both are dead because you couldn't pick," Vegeta took a step closer to him. "You think it's going to be easier once your relationship has progressed even more? I'll tell you now that it won't. It'll only get harder. You think you could handle sacrificing Pan to save a stranger? Because the look in your eye tells me you can't.

"This isn't an argument to have, Trunks. I'm not telling you what to do for my benefit or even this goddamn planet's. There's a battle coming and if you're not ready to do what it takes then to hell with everything we've ever worked for! If you want to be with her, then fine. Do it after you win, not when neither of you could afford have a distraction," Vegeta finished. He only gave his son a warning look before flying out.

Trunks slammed his fist on his nightstand, and then grimaced when he hit the glass lamp instead. Not out of pain, but how disgusting his hand looked with shards of glass stabbed into it. He took a deep breath before walking to the bathroom to wash the blood.

As the water ran red down the drain, he gently slammed his head against the sink mirror. It didn't crack, but he wished it would've. It would only explain his lousy luck with timing.

For the record, he wasn't willing to sacrifice Pan to save a stranger. Even if they weren't together romantically, it was downright foolish. Not only was she one of their best chances to winning, but because she was Mr. Satan's granddaughter and a lot of people had faith in her. Killing her would be killing their hope. He couldn't do that.

He also, if he was being completely honest with himself, couldn't sacrifice a stranger to save Pan either. Less out of personal feeling, but more because of his principles. He wouldn't sacrifice anybody. He didn't want to. When it came down to it, he would make the effort to save both. It was the right thing. It was the only thing.

The water went clear and he opened his medicine cabinet for some bandages. When he closed the small compartment, the reflection of his mother was staring right back at him. She tried to smile, but it wasn't comforting. He turned to hand her the white roll, and she took it without questioned. She started to wrap his hand when she laughed.

"I thought you needed an excuse to redecorate," Bulma began, examining his cuts.

"It's just a lamp. I could replace that," he said. The first layer was already stained with blood, but not too much. His right hand was going to hurt when he used it later though.

"He means well, you know. He isn't the smoothest talker, but he's always had your best interests at heart," she tried to comfort him. Trunks knew what she was doing, and that's the only reason why he allowed the thought to seep into his reality. Bulma noticed and added, "You two will still be friends. You two were great ones not too long ago."

"I know he does, but I want her too much than to be just friends again," he admitted as she tied a knot at his palm. Bulma didn't let go of hand just yet. He recalled fondly, "You know when she away in college, I used to send her a penny every other week?"

"That's not much to pay off student loans," his mother laughed. It made him smile a bit at the sound.

"The summer we became friends, she would come get me out of my office and we'd just walk around the city to find those machines that flattens coins into stamps. I don't know why we did that, but we did most of our talking during those walks. I told her things, but it was easy, you know? She was my friend," he told her.

"You have plenty of friends, Trunks," Bulma reminded as a mother should, but he shook his head.

"I do, but not like her. Nobody's like her. I've never felt both comfortable and on my toes all at once... if that makes any sense. It probably doesn't, but I can't describe it any other way. I sent her those pennies because I missed our walks. I missed her. I tried to write a lame note about making your own luck with it, but it was never about that. I just wanted to talk to her again, but I had to wait.

"Then, she came back the next summer and I had so many things planned for us to do. Not romantically, but because I genuinely wanted to spend time with her and have some fun. Before I could ask her anything, I overheard her telling Bra she wasn't going back to school. She wanted to take a gap year, and I was an idiot, mom. I thought that meant she was going to stay in the city for the whole year while she figured things out. I had been e-mailing a couple people about a possible opening just in case she needed a job, but then Bra tells me she's throwing her a goodbye sleepover so she needed me out the house for the night.

"I didn't stay away for long though. I couldn't. On her last night, why would I? So, I dragged Goten along to crash their sleepover and we had a great time. Then, everyone fell asleep, but us. I had work still, and she was always restless. She can't sleep at our house, and I don't know why, but it doesn't matter. She kissed me that night, and I didn't know how to feel. I didn't hate it, but that was the weird thing about it. I liked the kiss, but I couldn't admit it. I told her she was drunk and then she left. That whole summer I tried to kiss different women, but it wasn't the same... I know you don't want to hear that, but I just need to be honest.

"When she called Bra to tell her she was coming home, I didn't know how to feel anymore. She was my friend, my good friend. I tried to think of it as a random kiss, that it was meaningless, but it change something for me. When I saw her at the party, I knew what it was. I knew I didn't want to be her friend anymore, but she pretended it never happened and I didn't have the courage to tell her different. It didn't matter, I guess. We ended spending so much time together afterwards anyway, and she became my best friend.

"Finally, we kissed again before we left and I knew what I always knew. The best part was she felt the same way. I waited so long for us to be here, and now I don't want to go back. It sounds selfish, but I can't go back. I don't want to wait again," he finished, taking back his hand.

Bulma watched her son tense up, clenching his fists. Then after a second, he let it go. He relaxed his shoulders, and his smile was faint. She felt for him, but he quickly dismissed the idea.

"Trunks..." Bulma said; it was almost a whisper.

"It's fine, mom. What do I know?" he said, more to himself than anything.

Trunks didn't want to continue the conversation. He walked back to the GR and took his time. He wasn't in the mood for flying. He shouldn't fly in the house anyway. It was silly and immature, and a habit he should've grown out of by now. He was closer to forty than he was twenty; he could walk.

As he passed the grey metal walls, he wished there were more pictures hung along this long hallway. They took plenty pictures as a family, but only a few were ever displayed. There were at least three in the living room, but he never saw much elsewhere. When Bra was a kid, his grandmother used to hang up her drawings on the fridge and they would pretend her scribbles were the most fascinating set of blueprints ever created. He missed that. He didn't get to hang much his drawings because he was busy training or whatever.

These halls were so long, and they could've used a paint job. Or some wallpaper. The overhead lighting could be less like a hospital and more decorative—but what did he know? Not much.

When he finally made it to the GR, he could see Marron waiting out the room. She waved to him, and he put on his best grin. How could he not value her life too? It made him feel guilty. He was a shit friend.

"Hey, Trunks!" Marron greeted, patting at the seat next to her. He made way and she explained how they were the first ones there. "Piccolo told me and Uub what's going on, but they went to go check on Goten and Pan. This is crazy, isn't it? It's like some messed up fate."

Yeah. Messed up fate. Trunks nodded, "Tell me about it."

"I just think it's funny how all our parents traveled to Namek—well, except for Uub but he doesn't count—and now we're going up against Frieza's heir. I mean, Gohan was just a kid when he left with my dad and your mom. Vegeta was there too, but eh, let's not remember—"

"Marron?" Trunks piqued.

"What?" the blonde asked quietly.

"You're just rambling a bit. Are you alright?"

"Not at all! I'm a nervous mess," she admitted as a rose tint colored her cheeks. Her voice was quiet now, and he finally noticed her engagement ring was on a necklace. She then said, "But I have hope."


Bra had decided to skip the training. After the talk with her mother, she thought it was better to strategize in a less barbaric way. She needed all the information Jaco had passed onto her parents. When that was done, then the training regimen could begin. Being strong was important, but that couldn't be their only strength.

She left a note on her door just in case anybody was wondering of her whereabouts, and then flew to her mother's lab where her notes were. So far, all she knew was that Kuriza was an alien that lived in a vacuum environment so he could breathe in space. He was headed for Earth, but was recruiting planets along the way. Jaco said he was on a planet called Ravi to work with their king. Something about their original queen dying decades ago before Frieza was on Namek looking for their dragon balls? Something like that...

There wasn't much to go off of, which is why she thought immediately going to train was foolish. She knew her father wanted to get an idea of where they all were at as fighters, but that could wait. They would all work hard anyway so it didn't matter where their starting point was.

Bra punched in the passcode for Bulma's lab and made way. She wasn't back yet so she had a little time to retrieve her notebook at least. The young scientist headed for her mother's desk and when she found the leathered black book that was only secured by a rubber band, she flew back outside. It wasn't stealing. She would return in anyway.

Reading in her room or her own lab wasn't an option so Bra decided to go to Dende's. The distance from the Lookout to her place—plus the time they would probably finish sparring or whatever—would give her about two hours to study before they reviewed together as a group. That was enough time to come up with a better plan. Her father, as cool as his demeanor always was in stressful situations, was behaving more frantic than she would've liked. He was being irrational and she didn't like that. That would just call for mistakes.

She went through her brother's balcony instead of the front door so she didn't pass whoever was still waiting out the GR. As she left a streak in her passing, she noticed Pan jumping into the pool with her weights on. She wanted to say something, and maybe she should've, but Pan could swim and she had notes to figure out.


The sky was different during the day than when she was under the water at night. The ripples of pool blurred the clouds and trees, and the light made twenty feet feel so shallow. She didn't feel calmer in the water, and she hated that. Her safe place wasn't as comforting as she would've liked.

Pan swam back up, and touched the edge of the pool. She could feel the sun popping freckles on her shoulders, and for a moment, she found peace in the warmth. For a second, she forgot about all the information passed onto her and watching her father on the verge of tears. A lot was happening right now, and it was a lot to process.

As she sat in wet spandex, she thought about this morning of how she wanted nothing more than to train today. Back in the GR with Vegeta, even. Now, she was skipping it on purpose because she wasn't ready for it. She couldn't face him yet. It was… she just couldn't do it.

It was one thing when she agreed it was best to focus on just training, but it was another actually admitting it—especially to him and in front of his face. She didn't know how he felt, but it made sense, right? She was twenty-two, and it wasn't like they had been dating for a while anyway. Being comrades was more important. Protecting the planet had more priority. Dating and all that stuff? It could wait… right?

Yes.

Yes, it could. She trained for this her whole life; she couldn't afford something else to be on her mind now that there was actually something to fight. All warriors were disciplined... What was half a year to the rest of their lives?

Nothing, right? Winter was December and it was already June. The middle of June. Technically, that was six months and a couple of weeks. Training would take up most of their time anyway—so, it's not like it was a big deal. This was just a precaution for down the road. It was better to take a break now before their schedules piled up rather than to suffer through it and resent each other.

They were both ambitious people. He would understand. Trunks was always smart like that. What was she so nervous about? It was the mature decision. He would get that. They could wait. It wasn't hard to do.

Pan felt a breeze against her face, and realized the sun was falling down the horizon. Of course. Her thinking time was up now. She just had to do it.

Pan picked up her weights, and flew back inside the compound. Vegeta would give her an earful, but since they didn't bother to look for her, she guessed it didn't matter. He knew her skill level already. Tomorrow, he'd just push her harder and she wouldn't complain. She probably deserved it.

She thought it was best to wash off the chlorine before finding the others. It was hard to explain that she went swimming instead of not keeping a promise. She quickly headed for her room, stripped off her clothes, and rinsed off. Taking no time to be in any more water for today, Pan got dressed and headed outside to search for everyone else.

Flying and patting your hair dry with a towel wasn't a simple task as one would've hoped. So, she decided to run and pat her hair dry. Unfortunately, that wasn't a better option.

Pan headbutted the first person who was walking towards the hall. She blushed when she was on top of Bra, and her notebook's pages were all scattered over the tiles. "Shit," Pan cursed, grabbing as many papers as she could into a bundle as Bra neatly stacked hers by page order. The younger girl grimaced at the ball that was handed to her. Pan added with an awkward chuckle, "Uh, I'm sorry."

"How are you even a real person?" Bra shook her head, trying to flatten the ball as much as she could. Her eyes betrayed her and caught a glimpse of the older girl haphazardly crunching her hair with a towel. "Did you go swimming… or something?"

The older girl blinked. "Yeah. I wasn't in the mood to train today."

Bra snorted, "You? Not training?"

Pan raised a brow with a crooked smile, "You stealing your mom's notebook?"

Bra rewrapped the notebook, and Pan helped her up with a wet hand. Bra knew she should've returned the book sooner immediately, but she felt no rush to. She instead said, "I guess neither of us have been acting the way we should."

"I guess not," Pan only offered. She wanted to say something else, but the words weren't finding her lips. This was pride, and she didn't like it as much, but she couldn't help herself. She nodded to the other girl and made way.

Bra reached for her wrist before she passed. She didn't know why, but it was almost instinctual. It was what she should've done earlier, she thought. Her voice was quiet, but no one else needed to hear her anyway.

"Pan?" said Bra.

She was taken aback by the touch, but she didn't break it. Pan gestured for her to continue.

"This… we're going to need to work with each other for what's to come," she began. "I don't know how the others will fight, but I know you and I know me. We're stronger and smarter than what people expect of us."

"Bra..." Pan started, and before she could say anything else, she swallowed her words.

"I know we're not friends right now. I don't expect you to forgive me that quickly, but make it sooner than later, yeah? When this is over and it's spring, I want to go to Paris with you again. Just us, like how we did your prom. I miss our trips," and within the next minute, Bra let go and flew to Bulma's office.

Pan stood there as she left. She gripped her towel, feeling the need to hold onto something. Then, she let go because she had to. For now, she had to. She'd keep her promise for later though. The future was theirs, not anybody else's. Six months wasn't a long time.

She thought to head immediately to the living room where the older fighters had come to meet, but then decided she didn't want the last memory of being together with everyone else. They would have that, at least.

Pan turned around and flew to his room as fast as she could. She would've knocked, but the door was already on the floor. She cautiously walked in, hearing the shower turn off. This was it.


Training was intense. He didn't expect any less.

Trunks let the water hit his face before stretching his neck, so it would drip against his chest. Pan didn't make it to training, but he guess that was best. If she was there, then his words wouldn't have been as clear. He wouldn't have been as stubborn on his decision as he was now.

He wanted to fight.

Not just six months from now, but now. Here. With her. For her.

It was only six months, so what difference did it make? It didn't matter if they were together or not; they would figure it out together. That was the point of being together. What best was it to be apart? Especially now when they needed each other the most. It didn't make sense. It was nonsense, he decided.

He turned off the water. He could sense her. Good. He wanted to talk to her before they met with everyone else. Six months was just too long to be apart, and their relationship was their business. Nobody else's.

Enemies, fathers… no one else's.


Pan felt her heart race as the doorknob twisted.

Suddenly, she wished time stopped.


Trunks felt his heart race; he was pumped for this.

He wanted nothing but for time to go forward.

They had each other. That was enough for him.


She was crying. She didn't know why, but she just was. He didn't even say two words yet. How ridiculous was that?

Goten rushed to comfort Marron, hushing her until she was silent. She apologized for being such a mess. Then she laughed, "I'm sorry. I just didn't know what being alone with you would feel like and… I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I kind of went off the grid back at the lounge. I should say sorry," he offered before his eyes trailed the bruise on her cheek. He grimaced. "Actually, I'm really sorry about that."

Marron waved a dismissive hand. "We were with Vegeta. I didn't expect you to hold back," she said. "I guess we've never really fought like that. Sparring, I mean. Usually I'm cheering you on in the stands."

"Yeah, I guess I went to Trunks for punches and you for kisses when we were growing up. I actually think you knocked a tooth loose," he said, rubbing his cheek. Marron's eyes widen.

"Oh, no! You hate our dentist," she gasped as she reached for his face. Goten studied her eyes, staring at him with childlike wonder. She examined his face as he continued to look at her unusual eyes.

They were a strange gradient. Brown on top and blue at the bottom. He'd never seen anything like it. Over time, he'd seen hazel eyes that would have the same effect (almost), but they were always green with some yellowish light brown. Unlike hers. Marron's eyes were the deepest shade of brown, and the truest blue. Not too light or dark, but what you think of when you thought of blue. However, color wasn't what them different.

It was how she looked at him that was different. Like he was something worthwhile, and she would never get over it. It made him feel good. Needed, almost. It was the kind of look that every ego should be graced with at least once because the person attached to them was even better. She made him better.

Then, he caught a glimpse of her ring on her necklace and felt like it was wrong. He shouldn't have returned it. At least, not through another person. Uub said she understood, but then he realized he went about it like such a fool. In all honesty, he didn't understand why she didn't give it back. He didn't deserve it.

Marron followed the trail of his eyes and smiled at the perfect circle hanging from her chain. She took the hand from his face and touched it. She was so happy when Uub came to deliver it at the lounge; it was the reason why she was so hopeful. So much so, she spent three days with Bra just talking about how excited she was.

"I didn't want to wear it on my finger just in case I had to punch something. I mean, I don't think you all have the type of skin to break a diamond but I just had to be careful because—oh, I'm rambling, aren't I?" Marron blushed.

Goten smiled, "No, go ahead! I like when you talk a lot—uh, not that you talk a lot or anything."

"It's alright. I know I tend to just—," she paused, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. Let's just start over, can we? I know we need to talk about us and everything, and not to mention, this new Frieza has a son deal."

"Is that why you were crying?" he asked blankly. Marron shook her head.

"I was crying because I missed you, silly! I… I was scared that things changed between us," she added another, "I'm sorry," as if the thought of him not loving her was ever a question. "Look, I don't care who else you've kissed—"

Then, as if all at once, he remembered her. The one person who could bring out his worst. He remembered the fireplace, and the abandoned cabin. He remembered thinking that was almost the person he married. He remembered thinking he almost did more than kiss, but then, well, Pan kind of shot that down immediately.

He felt tense now. He really didn't deserve Marron.

"Marron, I'm not here to get back with you," he forced out, and she went silent.

"But the ring… you gave it back—"

"Yeah because it was a gift. It's… it's not mine to keep," he said, and it felt like a lame cop out. He wasn't thinking when he asked Uub to give it back to her. He only did because the other one didn't want him. That wasn't fair. "I.. I just came to make sure you know what it meant. That's why I had Uub give it to you."

"You're lying, Goten. I know when you're lying!" Marron pounded on his chest. "Don't lie to me!"

"It's the truth!" he responded, grabbing onto her fists. "When I saw you wear it in the GR, I thought I had to clarify!"

"Bullshit!" she called out, and he knew he had to sell it.

Goten said nothing. He gave her a stern look as if he was warning her to not push him. He then kept chanting he hated her in his head just in case she could read minds. He needed to believe it too. This wasn't easy. She was crying again, and his stomach twisted. She asked him why he was being so cold, and he pushed her off.

"Look, I just don't want to be with you anymore, okay?" he turned around to face the door instead.

"I don't get why you hate me so much. Was what I did really that bad?" she begged for him to answer. "Are you so turned off by me that you can't even look at me anymore? Goten!"

"We're over—just get it through your head!" he barked back. She went quiet at his loud tone. Before she could reply, he slammed the door and left.

Marron felt the pit of her stomach drop at the same rate of her knees. She held a fist at the chain around her neck and pulled it off. What was once her hope was just a symbol of her worst mistake. The ring was a curse.

She threw it against the metal door and didn't care if it penetrated through effortlessly. She didn't care that the smallest hole could make her cries audible to the whole hallway. She didn't care if they had other things to worry about. Right now, she just wanted to cry, and cry some more.


Her voice was caught in her throat as soon as he stepped out. He was in a towel, and a small drop of water was falling from his hair. She swore if she was to recall this later, she would remember every detail of it. Her palms were sweating, and she thought her lips formed a smile but it wasn't quite there.

For every step he took, her breaths felt heavier. Her insides were moving so fast, but the time was slowing down. It was odd. It was nervousness. It was a dream, and it was waking up at the same time. That surreal feeling mixed with the rush of reality. She wasn't sure if she was hearing her pulse or every frequency in the room.

"Don't… please," Pan dismissed before he was even closer. He was only a meter away, but she could feel him. His hands. His fingers. His touch. Suddenly, he was too close. She took a step back.

Trunks furrowed his brows at the gesture, but respected it nonetheless. He coughed, "Everything alright?"

She crossed her arms and pulled the sleeves of her shirt to cover her palms. She was staring at him, but not just him—the bathroom door, the wallpaper, the bedsheets, the broken lamp… Pan blinked to make sure she wasn't seeing things. She tried to avoid the subject, "Wh-what happened there?"

Pan nodded to the wrecked light fixture and Trunks shrugged. "I..." he then dismissed the thought. "Nothing. I was just upset, and I forgot my strength."

"That's not like—"

"I'll replace it," he cut her off. He knew he shouldn't have, but something wasn't right. Her tone was different. It was almost timid. She didn't even get pissed when he interrupted her. He then noticed her wet hair. "You didn't come to training. Where'd you go?"

"The pool," she answered.

"Thinking?" he asked.

"Surprisingly."

"About?"

"Things."

"And?"

"Stuff."

Trunks opened up his mouth, but then decided he didn't want another short answer. He brushed past her to reach his closet for a change of clothes. Pan stayed still. She didn't even turn around.

She felt like a coward. She had come all this way, and she couldn't even say it. Her fingers intertwined with the dampened fabric in her hands. She wanted to pull the towel apart in frustration, as if that would help the words come out better. It didn't.

As he pulled his shirt over his head, he watched her walk over to his bed to sit. She gripped a towel, and then she folded it beside her. Her hands ran up and down her thighs. Then she stopped once she saw him watching her. Now she was waiting for him. Trunks walked in front of her, but he didn't sit. He stood.

She had to look up at him, and it made her feel smaller than she already felt. She wanted to reach for his hand, but then decided that she shouldn't. Not for his sake, but for hers.

"I've been thinking," Pan begun.

"So I've heard," Trunks observed.

"Don't tell the paps, but the World Champion has cancer. He doesn't want chemo," she said, testing the waters.

Trunks fell to his knees with a concerned look on his face. He tried to reach for her hand, but she retreated it. She probably didn't want to be touched, and he would respect that. "I'm sorry, Pan," he said and he meant it.

"Don't be. I'm not even surprised anymore. It is what it is," she shrugged before fidgeting with fingers. "My dad wants me to go train in the Time Chamber. Not now, but in a few months time because everyone's going to catch up with my training soon. I need the challenge, and a year would help me a lot."

He didn't know how to respond to that. She was the most dedicated fighter he had known, and he never thought she'd be a goal to surpass. If anything, he thought she was going to be their trump card. Now he was uneasy. Trunks asked, "Do you think that's good? For you, I mean."

"I'm not like you guys. My blood's… it's different for me. I'm more earthling than Saiyan, so I have to work harder. I mean, I've only been ahead because I push myself every day for years—but I see it, you know? How quickly you, Bra and Goten catch up within not even an eighth of the time. So I get it," she explained. Kind of. She hoped that made more sense to him than it did her.

Trunks nodded, "Do you plan on going alone?"

"I haven't decided," she faintly smiled. Then, she stopped. He wished she hadn't; he liked her smile, even when it wasn't as full as it was just then. He would rather have that than… this. Whatever this was. Pan then her face away. "The only thing I know what I want is that I want to fight, Trunks."

"And we'll fight together," he said. This time, he actually did grab her hands. The sensation went through her whole body, from her fingertips to the soles of her feet. Her stomach felt warm. She couldn't tell if she wanted to puke or thought the sentiment was sweet. Maybe it was both. She was never a romantic, anyway.

Pan took back her hands, and his palms touched her thighs. She then stood up and created distance between them. It was for the best, she reminded herself. "I can't fight if I'm with you, Trunks. I… you make me weak, and I don't want to be weak. I can't be weak."

"I'm not understanding what's going on here," he said to her back. She couldn't face him, and she thought it was for the best. Her eyes would give her away, and she had to be strong.

"I can't be with you, Trunks. Not right now," she clarified, trying to level her uneven voice. "There's other—"

She stopped at the sensation pooling at her legs. It was him. Trunks was holding onto her, and hugging her legs as if letting go wasn't an option. She tensed at the feeling.

"Don't do this. Please," he asked of her. Begging almost. "Pan, I swear if you walk away now, then there's no going back. I'm not waiting again… please."

"Trunks, let me go… now."

"No! I'm not going to unless this is what you really want. If we're breaking up now, then that's it. I can't be just your friend anymore. I… " he paused and swallowed his words. "I just can't."

"Trunks, let me go," she repeated.

"I know why you're doing this, and it's bullshit, Pan. You're going to let an unknown future determine what happens with us? You're willing to be over this that fast? Because I'm not. I don't care. I want to be with you!"

"Let me go!" she demanded.

"You think I make you weak? What you're doing now is weak! It's cowardly and you—"

"Leave me alone!" she kicked him off, and he hit the edge of his bed.

Trunks rubbed the back of his head, and Pan finally turned around, clenching her fists. She was crying, but she didn't cry. She was pissed with tear-stained cheeks. He couldn't tell if she wanted to scream, or if she wanted to wail. Trunks could've gone with either; he just wanted something. Anything but this.

"This isn't enough for me anymore, okay?! I don't want to be with you, and if you can't be my friend, then fine!" Pan shouted. "You want to make this harder than what it needs to be? Then have it your way. I'm leaving, Trunks. Don't stop me."

"This isn't—"

"Don't!" she warned, and before he could tell her to stay, his balcony doors swung open and a gust of wind tousled his hair.

Trunks cursed and slammed his elbow behind him. He then cursed again at the broken bed frame.


End.