I posted a story a few days ago. It's another DBZ fic. You should read it. Thanks!
Trunks stood hunched over, powering up as much as he could. The air around him shook around him, as he pushed himself further and further. His knuckles were white from his tightened fists, and his energy fanned uncontrollably around him. His hair was standing on its ends, as his heart raced. He could feel his Super Saiyan form coming back to him. He just needed to push himself a little more.
His ki began to shift from blue to yellow. His hair faded to a brilliant gold. A loud scream ripped from his throat. And right as he reached his peak, his energy suddenly gave out. He collapsed onto his knees, breathing harshly. Dammit, he was so close that time.
Weeks had passed since he entered the Room of Spirit and Time. He'd been training his absolute hardest, pushing himself as hard as he could stand. It had been the most emotionally taxing time of his life, being locked away in an empty void by himself. Yet, it was also exciting. It felt like a challenge, and one he could beat if he worked hard enough.
Slowly, he sat up, crossed his legs, and tried to meditate. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to clear his mind. But all he could think about was being a Super Saiyan. No matter what he tried, he just couldn't reach that same place he got when he first transformed. Even when he thought about the androids and everything they took from him, he just couldn't do it. There was something missing and he didn't know what it was.
He held his head in his hands. "I'm getting nowhere with this," he said to himself. He sighed, before he stood back on his feet. He walked back towards the little room near the entrance. Maybe he needed a little bit of rest before he tried anything else.
There was a small kitchenette adjacent to the main room. There was enough food to last a full year for a normal human, but it wasn't quite enough for his Saiyan appetite. He was forced to ration it, only taking a little of what he needed. Despite their circumstances, his family always seemed to make sure he had enough to eat. It was another challenge of being locked in here, on top of all the other factors.
Trunks made himself a small serving of congee with an egg on top. He ate it slowly, making sure he got every last bit of it. The plain rice porridge was bland, with only an egg to give it flavor. The only sounds in the room was his spoon scraping against the sides of the bowl.
He quietly washed the dishes when he was done, setting them on a drying rack afterwards. His head was beginning to hurt from exhaustion. All that powering up took a lot out of him. So, he walked over to his bed and lied down, not even bothering to change out of his training clothes. The moment his head hit the pillow, he began to fall asleep.
Trunks dunked his hands onto the sink and splashed the water against his face. He rubbed his eyes and cheeks, before shaking his hands dry. He looked up at the mirror. His hair had grown, since he'd been in here, reaching down to his chin. As he looked at his reflection, he frowned. His mom had always been diligent in keeping his hair a certain length. That was just one more thing he'd have to get used to doing on his own.
Months had passed, since Trunks first entered. The days seemed to blend into each other, as he trained in solitude. Night and day didn't feel any different from each other. Train, eat, and sleep was the only schedule he abided by. As time moved on, the effects of his isolation only grew. He talked to himself more, and grew lonely if he thought about it for more than a moment. He never felt like this, before, even growing up the way he had. He was content being with his mother and grandparents, or being with his mom and Piccolo. But now he was severed from his family and separated from Piccolo.
For the first time in his life, he felt truly alone.
He leaned his forehead against the mirror. "I can't worry about that right now," he said, quietly. "Once I get out of here, this will all be worth it. The androids will be gone and the Earth will be better off."
He sighed. But that still wouldn't bring his mom back.
Once he finished his daily training, he laid down on the roof of the little house in the Room of Spirit and Time. Leaning the back of his head against his hands, he stared into the vast white space around him. He found himself coming here lately. Not for any intense meditation, but just to decompress after a long bout of training. As lonely as the isolation was getting, it was nice to have a chance to be with only himself. His mind often raced, reflecting on everything he had gone through in his life.
Lately, there was one person on his mind. It wasn't his mother. It wasn't Piccolo. It wasn't even the androids. It was his father. His mother always told him how great he was. How he was super brave and heroic and always saved people in trouble. And she always told stories about how caring he was and how he'd love them if he were with them.
Trunks jumped into bed and got under the covers. He had a great day. He got to help his grandpa in the lab and then help his grandma with her chores. Other kids might not like doing that kind of work, but he welcomed the challenges. It made him feel smart.
"Mama," he yelled, "it's bedtime! You're late!"
She sighed, as she entered the room. "I'm here, don't worry," she said. "I swear, you're getting too fast for me, these days."
"Maybe you just need to get faster!"
She shook her head, as she pulled up a chair next to him. There was still a smile on her face, though. "Yeah, just wait to see how things turn out when you're older." She grabbed a book off of the floor. "I think we have only a couple chapters of Dragon Boy left. Wanna see if we can finish it tonight?"
"Not really."
"Oh. Okay, then." She put the book back down. "Soooo what do you wanna hear?"
"Can you tell me another story about Papa?"
She stared at him for a moment. A weird look came into her eyes. She looked kind of sad. Then, she smiled. "Of course. Have I told you the story about how we met?"
He shook his head. He really wanted to hear this.
She leaned back. "We met far away from here. I was working for some not very good people, and your father was being made to marry someone he didn't love."
"Like all those princesses in the fairytale book?"
She laughed. "Kind of, yeah. He got so tired of it that he decided to sneak out. Well, I happened to be walking around the same place that he was. Then, I got approached by a man who wasn't very nice. I tried to get away from him, but he wouldn't let me. That was when your father came in and helped me."
"How did he help?"
"Let's just say he proved that bullies don't have any bite behind their bark. Once he did that, we started talking and we ended up back at my house. We talked the whole night and all the next day."
"Did you know that you liked him, then?"
She looked down. "I think I did. I didn't have many friends on Planet Vegeta. No one ever really paid attention to me because I was… different. But he didn't care. He didn't look down at me. He was interested in my work. He cared about me and… I cared about him, too."
"Do you think he'd like me, too?"
She smiled at him, and tossled his hair. "Of course he does, Trunks. He loves us very much, even if he can't be here. You'll learn that when you finally get to meet him."
He always took that as the truth. But these days, he wasn't so sure. His mother always said he was busy and couldn't be with them anytime he asked. But how was that still true, after all of these years? Even if he was some kind of royalty, surely he'd be able to get away from there for a little while. At least he would if he really loved them and cared about them. Was he even aware that any of this was happening? Would he even care if he did?
He closed his eyes and sighed. Once the androids were dealt with, there was still a laundry list of other things to do. Maybe when all of that was sorted, he'd get off of this planet and find his father. There were dozens of questions he wanted to ask. Whatever the answers, it was clear there was a lot he had left to learn.
More time came and went. Yet, Trunks had still not mastered his new form. He could call upon it, again, but could not do it in an instant. And he could only hold it for a few minutes. He'd lost track of how many days he'd been inside, and he had no idea how much time he had left. Piccolo said no one could spend more than two years inside of this place. What if he wasn't able to regain his form before his time was up?
He parried with a sword, swiping at an invisible enemy. The chest in the room turned out to be filled with different weapons. Maybe they weren't as deadly as a ki blast, but they could still do a lot of damage. And he exhausted less energy from using them, allowing him to save it for when it really mattered. The sword felt weighty in his hands, but he had gotten used to it since he found it.
Trunks threw his sword down once more, as if dealing a killing blow. Then, he sheathed his sword behind his back. He had tied a piece of rope around the sheath, allowing him to wear it. When he got out, he needed to find a better method of carrying it.
He pushed his bangs back. His hair reached down to his shoulders, tied behind his head in a ponytail. "Okay," he said to himself. "I should probably try some meditating. Then, I'll get back to practicing."
He lowered himself to the ground and sat down with his legs crossed. He put his hands together in his lap and closed his eyes, breathing in and out slowly. A soft white glow began to form around him, as he concentrated. The world around him slowly began to fade away. His focus had improved immensely, in the months he had spent here. He was even able to do a bit of image training on his own. Before, he was only able to do it if Piccolo helped him.
When he opened his eyes, he was in a dark void of stars. He slowly stood up, unsheathing his sword. Anytime he did image training, his subconscious seemed to pick a opponent for him to fight. Sometimes it was Piccolo. Sometimes it was the androids. Sometimes it was a faceless foe. What would he be facing today?
He felt a presence behind him. He spun around and flew towards them, ready to strike at them with his sword. But his opponent caught the blade with one hand.
When he saw who it was, his heart stopped. He was about his height, dressed in a blue bodysuit, a white and gold chestplate, and white gloves that matched. His dark eyes were pointed in a permanent glare. And his dark hair stood up on its end, seeming to defy gravity.
"Father," he said, in astonishment.
Without saying a word, his father powered up into his Super Saiyan form, not even flinching as his bright yellow ki engulfed him. With no effort, he snatched his sword out of his hands and threw it away. Then, he charged straight for him.
Trunks managed to dodge his punch right at the knick of time. He retaliated with a kick, then charged at him with everything he had. He threw punches at his father, which he blocked with his forearms. As he did, Trunks couldn't help but wonder: why him? Why was he fighting his father like this? Was it just because he'd been on his mind, lately? He'd fantasize about getting the chance to fight him before, but it never manifested like this.
His thoughts came to a screeching halt when his father suddenly grabbed his chin and slammed him onto the ground. Then, he kicked him away, sending him flying through the starry void at an incredible speed. His father leapt after him. He hit him fast and hard, not giving him a second to rest. Trunks was completely overpowered, unable to do anything.
His father punched him in the gut, making him fall to his knees. He looked up at him. Even though this wasn't actually his father, anger began to build in his gut. Not over being bested in battle, though.
"Where were you," he asked in a low voice. "When we needed you the most, where were you? Why did you leave us here all alone?"
The apparition of his father said nothing. Making him even angrier.
"My entire life, I was told that you were brave and noble. That I was destined to be as strong and heroic as you are. But how could a hero abandon his family?" The longer he spoke, the louder his voice grew. Tears of anger and frustration streamed down his cheek, as his father continued to glare at him.
"Mom loved you! She waited the rest of her life for you! Doesn't that matter?! Do you even care?! You don't, don't you?! My entire family is dead because you abandoned us, and you don't even care! And for as long as I live, I'll never forgive you for it!"
His energy flared around him, his hair turning gold and standing on its end. He lept forward, ready to hit his father right in the face. But right before he could, his vision became completely white. When he blinked, he was back in the Room of Spirit and Time, floating mid-air with his energy radiating wildly around him.
He looked down at his hands. He was still in his Super Saiyan form. When he ran his fingers through his hair, it was still standing up on its end. As the seconds ticked on, he still held onto it.
He began to smile. "I did it," he said. "I really did it!"
Trunks swung his sword at invisible opponents, a bright yellow aura flailing around him. He had completely mastered his Super Saiyan form. He was able to call upon it at will and hold onto it for long periods of time. He could even hold it in his sleep. Once he got out of this room, he was unstoppable. The androids would regret the day they crossed him and his family.
Right in the middle of his exercises, there was a loud clicking sound. When he looked back at the entryway, he saw the door was ajar. His eyes widened. Had it really been a year? Simultaneously, it felt like not that much time had passed and that more time had passed. Nevertheless, he sheathed his sword and walked towards the door. Once he reached it, he grabbed onto the door knob and opened it.
When he took his first steps back into reality, he felt lighter. It felt easier to move around. He wasn't weighed down by anything. The air was cooler and lighter - no longer hot and suffocating. Maybe training in there was like training with those weighted clothes he wore, sometimes. It might make fighting a little easier. He exhaled, and his Super Saiyan form dissipated.
As the door to the Room of Spirit and Time closed behind him, Piccolo approached him with his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at him silently for a moment. Trunks straightened his back, as he scrutinized him. His mind raced, wondering what he was thinking.
"How do you feel," he finally asked.
"Stronger. I can control Super Saiyan, like you said I had to."
"Really, now?" He smirked. "You wanna put that to the test?"
He grinned. "Yes," he exclaimed. "Let's do it!"
Trunks and Piccolo left the Lookout together. The duo ended up at a rocky landscape, with unique rock formations sticking up into the air. They landed on two formations away from one another. They didn't say anything - they simply stared at each other.
"Alright" Piccolo said to him. "You said you can control your Super Saiyan form? Show it to me, right now."
Trunks tightened his hands into fists at his side. He clenched his jaw, as he began to power up. Then, he let out a loud scream. His energy exploded around him, his hair beginning to stand on its end. The color of his aura began a bright yellow. His hair became golden and his eyes turned jade. Wind billowed around them from the sheer force of his energy.
"What do you think," he said, with a confident smirk on his face.
Piccolo just chuckled. "I guess this means I shouldn't hold anything back." He grabbed the collar of his cape and threw it behind him. His turban quickly followed. Then, he crouched into a fighting stance. "Give me everything you've got, Trunks! Unleash your full power!"
He grinned, unsheathing his sword and crouching, as well. "I will, Piccolo!"
He threw his sword down at him, to which he ducked. Trunks kept going at him, to which he dodged. Piccolo blocked his sword with his forearm. The blade dug into his arm, deep enough to bleed. His free hand flew forward and punched Trunks in the face, making him lose his balance. He quickly regained it, blocking his oncoming hits with his sword.
Trunks flared his ki and flew backwards, trying to put distance between them. He sheathed his sword, realizing he wouldn't win by relying on it. Piccolo was quickly gaining on him, as a bright white energy began to engulf him. Trunks held his hand forward and fired at him to slow him down. Piccolo just swatted it away with one hand. The energy created a huge explosion of fire and light, shaking the Earth below them.
The two fighters clashed, fighting against each other at their full speed and power. They disappeared and reappeared throughout the landscape, their hits creating bursts of light and sound in the air. If anyone were viewing, they'd say they were evenly matched.
Piccolo swung his fist out towards him, but he disappeared. Trunks reappeared behind him and kicked him in the back. He lifted his hands in the air, a ball of energy forming in them.
"MASENKO HAAA!" His warrior cry echoing in the air, the energy went hurtling towards him at an amazing speed.
Piccolo turned himself around just in time and threw his own energy out towards him with one hand. The two beams clashed in the middle, pushing up against each other. Neither warrior would let up, putting everything they had into their attacks.
As Trunks felt his energy pushed back, doubt and panic crept into him. What if this wasn't enough? What if he had overestimated himself? Was all of his work in the Room of Spirit and Time for nothing? His energy flared around him. No. He couldn't let that happen. He was going to beat this, if it was the last thing he did.
With newfound energy, he let out a loud scream, as he pushed it into his attack. It was enough to completely overwhelm Piccolo, pushing him downwards. The energy collided with the ground, exploding upon impact. Trunks covered his eyes, as light, dust, and smoke flared upwards. When it finally began to clear, Piccolo was lying on his back in a crater, his clothes torn all over.
His eyes widened, and let go of his Super Saiyan form. He hadn't meant to hit him that hard. He didn't quite know his own strength, yet. He flew down towards him - luckily, he could still feel his energy, so he wasn't dead.
Piccolo slowly sat up, staggering back onto his feet. He looked down at Trunks as he landed in front of him. Then, he smirked. "Even after all these years, you always seem to surprise me. I never thought I'd see the day when you'd end up surpassing me."
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "A-are you serious?!"
"After this fight? Of course not. There's nothing left for me to teach you. And I couldn't be more proud."
Trunks felt his heart skip a beat. Piccolo never threw out compliments like that at random. Whenever he did, he meant it. He grinned and bowed. "Thank you, Piccolo. I couldn't have done it without you. Do you think I'm ready to take on the androids?"
He put his hand on his shoulder. "When you're through with them, Trunks, they'll wish Gero never activated them."
As Piccolo's words sunk in, a new wave of confidence and hope came over Trunks. There wasn't any doubt in his mind, anymore. He was going to beat this.