Well, here's some more Trunks!

Having just fetched a pitcher of water from one of the numerous storage rooms the palace had, Mr. Popo returned to the large, white room lit brilliantly by a fire proved by the lantern Dende had still been carrying around with him. The Guardian of Earth had looked for him after all other conversation stopped outside, abandoning Kibito Kai to be back by the genie's side. He wasn't used to having company, and though he felt bad for leaving the Kai out with Piccolo, all guilt washed away very quickly. He hoped that the Kai would leave soon, as there was obviously no business for him to attend to on Earth at the moment. And as for Piccolo, he could care less what his brethren did; to force Piccolo off of the Lookout would be quite impossible, but he didn't mind him as much. At least he was quiet.

Dende grimaced slightly as he heard Kibito Kai run through the corridors, yelling, "Dende? Where did you go?" He wished that the Supreme Kai would just leave; it was rather late, and even the Guardian of Earth needed some sleep. But it was only a few seconds before the purple Kai managed to find his way into the room, his voice unnaturally loud and rushed. "I think Piccolo's unhappy!"

Both tired and annoyed, Dende spun around and placed a finger to his mouth, signaling quiet. Kibito Kai immediately pursed his lips, as he saw a sleeping Trunks lying on one of the beds. With a whispered apology, he said in a considerably calmer tone, "Piccolo doesn't seem very happy right now. I think he's going to hunt down Goku, but he said that he'd come back for me afterwards.

The Kai sounded all too excited about this prospect. Dende raised an eyebrow, but before he could ask why he was showing such enthusiasm, Trunks stirred in his bed. Mr. Popo quickly poured the water into a glass on the bedside table, forcing it into the awakening man's hand. "Here, Trunks," the black genie said, trying to comfort him. "Take a few sips, and I'm sure that you will feel better." His giant, red lips curved into a smile as Trunks' grip tightened around the glass, tugging it from him.

Trunks sat up, feeling his head rush as he did so. He clenched his teeth together in pain, only able to focus in and out on the glass of water. The dazed look in his eyes prompted Dende to ask, "How do you feel?" He had rushed up to the foot of the bed, as had the Supreme Kai. "Any better?"

"I can't imagine," the Supreme Kai muttered, holding his chin in thought as he examined the man sitting on the bed. "I mean, the way that Mr. Popo managed to knock him out so quickly, I'd think the wind would be knocked out of him."

Trunks' eyes lilted upwards, catching a rather sheepish genie with a lopsided smile. But Trunks could only frown as he waited for his mind to focus, finally asking, "You knocked me out?" The thought was kind of insulting. Piccolo, maybe, but a genie? He was a Prince of Saiyans; there was no way that some caretaker of the grounds would be able to knock him out.

"Why, yes," Mr. Popo admitted rather abashedly. He folded his arms, turning his eyes towards the ground. "I'm sorry, Trunks..." He hadn't meant any damage to the man.

But the only damage that Trunks felt now was a bit to his pride as he drained the glass of water, setting it down on the bedside table. Then, with a hand on his forehead, he looked around and asked, "What happened? I can't... remember anything."

"What?" Kibito Kai asked incredulously. "You... you don't remember? Anything?" How could he have not remembered the way that he had been ready to kill and then brought down so brutally? But Dende knew. The Namekian slid his eyes over to Mr. Popo suspiciously, who was quite pleased with himself. Yes, he had been a rather tricky genie that night. Not wanting anymore fighting to persist, he had 'accidentally' wiped the poor man's memory clean with the same invisible beam that had made him unconscious. It had been fun, using powers that he hadn't had to use in several hundreds of years. He wasn't sure if it would still work, but it seemed as though the beam had done just the trick. The man had fallen back over, as he had planned.

But now it was Mr. Popo's turn to leave his mouth slightly ajar as in shock, priding himself on his acting. He pried the empty glass from Trunks' grasp and refilled it, listening intently as Trunks murmured, "No, I don't remember anything. All I remember is coming back from Suno's to see Goku, but I really can't remember anything after that." He cupped his chin in a hand in thought, leaning forward on the bed. It was strange to have had forgotten something after simply being knocked out by the genie. He had an excellent memory for short-term matters, at the very least. It wasn't like him to simply lose all memory of everything that had happened in the past few hours without some type of otherworldly help. Some type of help that only a genie, a magical, mystical being, could provide...

As Mr. Popo pressed the glass back into Trunks' hand, urging that he take another drink to further awaken him, the demi-Saiyan simply stared into its contents. He watched as the water rippled slightly in his shaky hand, rocking back and forth from side to side. Then he swung his arm out to the right, having taken ten seconds just to watch the glass, and with ease he squeezed his hands, the broken glass and water falling at the genie's feet. Mr. Popo jumped back as gracefully as a man could, surprised by the ferocity in the man's action. It had been one of the only glasses up on the Lookout, disheartening the black genie. It looked as if he would have to go shopping again soon, but that didn't matter at the moment. When he saw the demi-Saiyan's lip began to curl, it actually frightened the genie. What had happened now?

Though immortal, Mr. Popo knew that there were certain circumstances even he did not want to be put in. Being on the receiving end of a demi- Saiyan's glare was one of those, knowing that no good would come of it. He stepped back further as the demi-Saiyan began moving out of bed, planting his holed socks next to the puddle of broken glass. Then, still sitting on the edge of the bed, Trunks pointed his finger at the genie and accused, "You knocked me out."

"Yes, I did," the genie only replied. Dende and Kibito Kai were bewildered, unable to comprehend why Trunks sounded so uncertain of something that they had just established. But Mr. Popo knew why Trunks had said such a thing; it was that Saiyan pride. He had forgotten, however, that he also had the signature Briefs intelligence, a dangerous combination in such an unruly man.

"I haven't been knocked out by anybody in years," he simply stated, the genie nodding along. "I haven't ever been knocked out and not remembered where I was or what I was doing." The genie gulped slightly, realizing that this was taking a bad turn. "I've always had a great memory, able to remember what I did yesterday or the day before. And I still can. I just can't remember what I was doing two hours ago."

The brilliance of deduction - it was something that Mr. Popo hadn't had to deal with in a long time, not since Kami was his own individual. He had forgotten that not everybody's mind wasn't as clouded as Piccolo's or nonexistent as Dende's. No, it had been a long time since he had been forced to deal with an individual that could think and rationalize, something he had begun losing faith in with the Namekians he had been hanging around with. But this wasn't a Namekian. This was a Saiyan-Human hybrid, a thing he had very little experience with. He was able to hold the grudge of a Saiyan but have the logic of a human. It was quite new to the genie, but he still knew something: Trunks knew something.

Trunks stood completely on his feet, ignoring the weariness in his tendons and recognizing the sinew in his thought process. Mr. Popo had them all fooled. The genie had them all fooled. He had been guilty of more than just knocking the demi-Saiyan out; he had actually gone a step forward, erasing his mind. Now he couldn't remember a thing from those two hours, leaving him not to wonder what he had lost, but rather to learn of what he could gain. There was revenge, and something or another about his father's pride, but that was all he could think of from those two hours. What was it that he had done to cause the genie to take such a step as this?

He wasn't exactly angry; he was simply frustrated. He had been left a confused man, surrounded by people he hadn't seen in several years, if ever. What exactly was he even doing on Kami's Lookout? He could recognize this room from when he was a small child, back when he was being forced to learn the Fusion Dance with Goten, but that didn't explain a thing. Why had he returned?

With both bitterness and confusion sweeping him, he approached the genie, asking in a harsher tone than he had meant, "What happened? Why am I here, Mr. Popo? Why did you do this to me?"

"I'm sorry, Trunks," the genie apologized, quite sincerely. He clasped his hands together and stood still with watching, black eyes. He now felt guilty for erasing the man's memory, having not realized that he would figure out that his mind was erased. He had been hoping that the man would simply wake up, unsure of what was going on, but that he would still take it all in and accept it. But Trunks was not a gullible man. He was cunning and suspicious, misguided, yes, but cunning and suspicious all the same. "I was hoping you wouldn't realize that I had not only knocked you out, but that I had also erased your memory."

Kibito Kai and Dende dropped their jaws, finally having caught up on what the genie had done to Trunks. It was hopefully for the better, but with the dirty sneer the demi-Saiyan was throwing at the genie, nobody could be certain. With those vile memories gone, he would hopefully forget his lust for Yamcha's blood and for his father's return, retreating back where he had come from and never bothering anybody again. But that wasn't the case.

"Tell me what happened," Trunks demanded, his fist tightening as he stood in one place, only a few feet in front of the genie. As Kibito Kai opened his mouth, Trunks only growled, "Not you! I want to know what he has to say." And he emphasized the 'he', jabbing his finger in the genie's direction. But the poor Mr. Popo was flabbergasted, not knowing of what to say. This wasn't what he had expected to happen at all. Trunks was impatient, continuing, "Come on! Hurry up!"

"I'm going to go get Piccolo!" Dende announced, running away from the scene on his scrawny, green legs. Trunks let him run, deciding that this was far more important than stopping the tiny, green Namekian. He would be done with Mr. Popo by the time he could return, and by that time, he would be gone. After getting vital information out of the genie, he would leave again, fulfilling whatever he had come back here to do. He knew he had a purpose for being here; he just wasn't sure of what it was.

Dende fled, leaving Kibito Kai to be the only spectator in this match. What neither he nor Trunks saw was the finger Mr. Popo had pointed at the man's chest, trying to knock him out again. If they could retry this, to let him wake up again and not figure out that his memory had been erased, this task of taming Trunks would be easier. But before he could shoot the invisible beam at his opponent to subdue him, he saw a familiar figure appear at Kibito Kai's side, startling the purple man.

Nobody could believe it. Goku was there. He had appeared, son in hand, both of them bloody. Kibito Kai jumped back as they all observed him curiously. His clothes were soiled by blood, though he looked healthy. It was Gohan who looked far worse off, his figure slumped under his father's arm. It was Trunks who really couldn't believe what he saw, struck by fear by Goku. This was his father's rival, looking no worse for the wear seven years later. He looked the exact same as he had years ago, the same person he had been.

Goku only smiled sheepishly and, seeing Trunks and Mr. Popo frozen in their fighting poses, he scratched the back of his head and asked, "Is this a bad time?"