Lost and Found

by toran-kun

T&P already! Set in Mirai's AU, more or less. Trunks makes a travel to the past to change a world of nightmares. When he comes back, there's something he will find that he hadn't before. Status: incomplete. *Chapter 4 up with T&P hints* Thanks to PCTG for

4. Chapter 4

Lost and Found - Chapter 4

By Tóran

The days after Gohan's confession were heavy and long. The man was doing exactly the same he had done every day: he woke up early, cooked their meal, washed up, trained, with Trunks and then on his own, and he listened attentively to the radio in the night, before going to bed. At first sight everything was as it had always been, the child thought, looking at him over the milk cup while he was working in the kitchen, or seeing how he leaned towards the radio if the informative waves were lost between interference.

But it was not the same as always. Trunks only had to roll his eyes towards the third chair in the kitchen, empty and pushed against the table, without any dish in front, to realise it. Mother was not there.

No, it was not as always, but not only because of that.

Save the 'good morning', 'good night' and several observations that he could speak while training, his master had enclosed himself in a total deafness.

At the beginning, Trunks had tried to talk to him, but as time passed by he had had no other chance but give in. The man had not reacted to anything that he had said. The most he had got from him were some dragged monosyllables, as if he hurt to let them escape. And he had arrived to a point where he could think of nothing different to tell him. Almost hysterically he searched in his brain for something to say that was interesting enough to deserve an answer from his master, but nothing but foolish words came to his mouth, and at last he ended by singing some song, in a low tone, very low, so only he could hear it, only to remember that he had a voice.

And the worst of it all were the afternoons. Morning usually passed by, fast, while waking up, making his bed, dressing, having breakfast and training. But the afternoons were horrible, unending, awful. Gohan washed up and left. And Trunks, seeing him decidedly leaving the bunker, could tell that he would not be back until supper time.

Then he crawled on the sofa and he painfully missed his mother.

He had tried to study, for that was what mother would have wanted him to do, but he had found himself unable. Having his mind kilometres away from what was written in the book, he had not felt able to understand even the first paragraph.

He couldn't understand what was happening.

When she had disappeared some other times, Gohan had stopped training alone in order to stay with him, keeping him company. Now he didn't even murmur a goodbye before leaving.

Was it that he believed him old enough to leave him alone? Was that the reason why he acted as it was the most normal thing in the world?

Scared because of the smallest sound, Trunks didn't feel old at all.

Was it because what he had told the child? Evidently. But why wasn't he speaking further about that? It was painful for him to remember, of course. But he could always talk about some other things, couldn't he?

The child could justify him in his head, he is sad, he doesn't feel like talking.

But the fact of trying to understand his master's behaviour wasn't easeing his loneliness a bit.

He played tirelessly with the computer or the game console, which he considered his friend, that sometimes got to dull his pain, as an anaesthesia, and while he was diving in whatever game it was, he forgot, at least a bit, the anguish that dominated him. But sometimes he felt so depressed that he didn't even have the strength to turn it on. Then he took the blanket from his bed, carried it to the sofa, he curled under it and left the music in the radio on to soothe him. The commentators, that he had always hated, were now keeping him company. At least they made him recall that there was still someone alive, out there.

He went over Gohan's history again and again. A girl... a baby... he tried to imagine what his life would have been like if everything had gone right and the girl had come to live in the bunker. Gohan and Videl would have gone to get a big bed, a double bed, in the Cc, and they would have made it somehow fit into Gohan's room. They would have also gone in search for a cradle... and where would have the baby slept when he had grown? For if a cradle could hardly fit into his Master's room with a big bed, it was senseless to think that there could be room for another normal bed there. Trunks thought that the most logical would have been to put the baby to sleep with him, and he imagined his bedroom with two beds, very close one another, or with bunk beds. Then he sighed, resigned. It would have been funny. And he would have had someone to play with. Now he wouldn't have to be alone.

Why did Gohan never introduce them to the girl? He would have been looking forward to it. And mother would have as well, sure. And perhaps, if he had, she would have moved sooner and she wouldn't have been outside when He attacked the West City. And then there would be a three-year-old boy or girl that would play with him on the game console, with whom he would share his classes, who he would teach to draw and with whom he would make turns to tell each other stories before going to sleep, with the lights off.

Impatient, Trunks opened his eyes and looked to the clock, forty, fifty times an afternoon, praying for the hands to be much more advanced than the last time he had looked at them. And he made himself remember that there was no use in mourning because of a thing that had not happened and that will never happen either. And that it would be better for him to find a solution for his master to be the same than before.

And the only solution he could think of was that Mother came back immediately.

He could not stop wishing that Gohan comforted him and told him that Mother would soon be back, but he never talked, nor about this or anything else , so he had to cheer himself up alone, and he was not succeeding that much. During those unending afternoons, he could not stop tormenting himself repeating that perhaps mother would never come back. And the most optimistic side of his brain, if there was any still left, followed Gohan's example and kept still, leaving the pessimistic one to be the owner of all.

He normally ended by falling asleep, after having cried a little while. When Gohan woke him up with the noises he made opening the door to the bunker, he sat on the sofa and heard him descending the stairs, while the relief because of having been able to spend one more afternoon invaded his body and he turned around, with a smile on his face, to see his master appear through the door.

One day, when it had been a bit more than a week since Gohan had revealed the secret of his life to Trunks, the man finished washing up and, after passing a wet clothe over the table, he sat down again on his chair, opposite his pupil. The boy who, looking down, was already willing to slowly walk to the sofa to get ready to spend another hateful afternoon, glanced at him, knitting his brows. He didn't dare say anything in fear of not getting a response, although being used to it by then, but the questions came to his mouth, in the edge of being spoken. Why was he not leaving? It was what he always did, when he finished cleaning the kitchen, at midday... why had he sat again? Was that that he wanted anything? Would he speak again, finally? And would it be to give the boy good news? To tell him that everything would be, again, like before? Or to tell him that there was no turning back anymore...?

Another dreadful idea crossed his mind, and, scared, he tried to force himself not to think of it, but in spite of his efforts, he didn't go along with it. Perhaps... perhaps he was about to tell him that he was leaving...!

He shook his head, filled with horror, closing his eyes. It was not possible that he was about to say that!

"Are you alright?", he heard his master ask, and he opened his eyes at once.

He had spoken. Gohan had spoken, and not for advising him in fighting.

Too bewildered to answer, he only assented with his head.

"Trunks...", he called out, but the boy didn't move. "Trunks, look at me, please..."

The boy raised his head little by little. Inside, he was repeating over and over, now he will tell me, now is when he tells me, now he will say that he's leaving and that he will never come back.

When their eyes met, Gohan smiled sadly.

"Are you afraid of me, Trunks...?", he asked, sighing.

The boy shook his head no, hesitantly. How could he say to him that what he was afraid of were the words that he could speak, now that he spoke again?

"I don't want...", he started, but his master cut him in to say the last thing he expected to hear.

"Forgive me"

He raised his head, with his eyes open wide. The man still had the same sad smile on his lips.

"What...?" he asked, in a low tone, to make sure that he had understood it and that he was not hearing only what he wanted to hear.

"That you forgive me. I've been a fool. I'm very sorry" as the child said nothing, Gohan went on speaking, with an immense sadness in his voice. "I haven't been fair... it's not your fault... and I've treated you as if it was."

Trunks shrugged, as a huge relief started to dominate him. Gohan did not seem to have the least intention to leave. What was more: it seemed as if he wanted everything to be as it was before.

Of course he forgave him! How could he doubt it?

"It's nothing...", he said, smiling for the first time in more than a week.

"You don't know how sorry I am... you've had a bad time, haven't you?"

The boy nodded, shyly.

"Why didn't you want to talk? What was the matter?" all of a sudden, all the questions he had wanted to ask were being voiced.

His master sighed.

"I hate, I hate the Monster with all my soul. I am... I am enraged with the world, Trunks. I am since... well, you know. When I told you, I... – he swallowed hard, brought a hand to his mouth, but quickly got over it. "I had never told anyone about it. It was as if... almost as if... it had happened again."

The boy looked at him with sorrow.

"I'm sorry...", he murmured. "I asked you to tell me..."

"But it was me who brought the subject out, didn't I...? Don't worry... as I've already said, it's not your fault at all...", smiling wider, he put a hand out and messed Trunks's hair. The boy laughed lightly, starting to feel really good. "Then, you forgive me...?"

"I have already told you so!"

"I'm sorry about not having talked to you much..." much?, thought Trunks, you must be joking, but he bit his tongue. "I didn't feel like doing anything... I only felt like fighting, like letting my rage free, screaming! That's why I didn't want to talk to you... for I would have taken it out on you..." he shook his head, with a resigned sigh. "But I don't know if the medicine has been worse than the illness...! I'm so sorry, Trunks...! I only felt a bit better when I was powering up!"

"And now not anymore?"

"Now as well. I won't stop until I beat him, you know. But I have realised that I couldn't carry on that way... I will hate It until I die, and I swear for whatever it may be that I will go till the end of my strength to defeat him." He paused for a second, as if to gain courage. "I will never be happy anymore, either, I know that. But, you know?, it makes no sense making you pay for it, or your mother. It's absurd. And she wouldn't want it either."

The thought of his mother made Trunks sadden, and he lowered his head, locking his eyes on his knees while his master went on speaking.

"Trunks...", he said, all of a sudden, totally changing his voice. "Be very happy, will you...? Promise me that you will be very happy, you who can still be happy..."

The boy looked at him again, with befuddlement painted in his eyes.

"I... I promise...", he murmured.

"And that you will fight till the end for what you love. Do you promise? Do you swear?"

Trunks nodded with his head, disconcerted, and Gohan offered him a smile.

"That's the only thing that matters in life... don't ever forget that. If you don't fight, you will lose everything. You understand?"

He was still smiling, but his voice was painfully sad. The child thought that, smiling that way, he seemed even more depressed and hollow than when he confessed everything to him, crying sitting on the grass, and he nodded again, puzzled by the contradiction. No, he would never forget that. And he understood.

His master sighed, pleased, ran both of his hands over his face and when he spoke again, he had changed his voice again.

"Yesterday I was thinking, you know...? And I remembered the face you made everyday when I left, and when I came back, at night... the efforts you were making to draw some conversation out of me... and I saw that you were worried because of me and that you didn't deserve that at all. Trunks..."

"Yes...?"

"Are you angry with me?"

The boy bit his lower lip, thoughtful. Was he angry? Right then, there was only relief inside him. And before? Had he been angry? No... there had been no room, to be so, between disconcert and fear.

"I don't think so", he finally answered.

"You only think so?"

"I'm too happy because of you speaking again.", he said, resting one cheek on his shoulder and plainly smiling. "When it passes, I'll tell you, ok?"

Gohan laughed and crossed his arms on the table after, expectantly looking at him.

"Well, while it passes, what do you think we could do this afternoon?"

"You're not going to... train?" asked the child, his voice filled with hope.

"You are getting very strong, you tire me out while sparring...!", answered Gohan with a smile. "You know?, I thing that I'll need several afternoons sitting on the sofa playing with your game console to recover..."

It had been three weeks since the morning when his mother had disappeared when, while Gohan and Trunks were having breakfast, they both heard, over the crispy voice coming from the radio, how the bunker door opened over their heads, and the next moment they were invaded by the boy's mother's energy. Among some other energies, of course, like the dreadful one coming from It, but Trunks didn't even think of that and, brusquely moving back the chair from the table with both hands, mother is here, he jumped to the ground and started running towards the entrance, after shooting Gohan a bright smile.

But his master raised a hand and murmured a tense 'wait'. The boy, that was about to exit the kitchen, looked at him, astonished, while mother, upstairs, closed the door and eliminated, that way, every outer energy.

"Hello!! Hey, guys, I'm here!!", they heard her say, while she started descending the stairs.

Trunks looked at his master, mystified. What was the matter with him? Couldn't he see that it was mother? That she was finally back?

"What's the matter?", he asked, copying his voice but in a more impatient way. "It's mother, Gohan!!"

"I know...", he answered, always in murmurs, while the boy was dying to start running out of the kitchen. "I know that you swore... but don't say anything to her, eh?"

The kid assented, annoyed. Perhaps he thought that the first thing he was going to do was to go and tell his mother? He had given him his word!!

But afterwards he saw worry in his eyes, and he imagined how bad he would feel again if he had to give reasons about it again to anyone else. For mother would want some explanations. Obviously, she would not be satisfied with what, in an hypothetical case, Trunks could tell her. She would want to know more, she was that way. And Gohan would writhe in pain if it was moved further.

He could understand his worry. He didn't want to suffer anymore. He didn't have to annoy him about it, it was not that he didn't trust him, simply, what was happening was that his secret was not only his anymore and he was afraid because of this.

He smiled reassuringly.

"Don't worry, I won't forget, I won't say anything. I swear!"

He raised both of his index fingers, crossed them on his lips and kissed them. When Gohan answered his gesture with a thankful nod, he stormed out of the kitchen.

The moment when he entered the dining-room, mother was entering too, through the other door, the entrance one.

With a huge smile, he threw himself to her arms and hugged her tight.

It had been three very long weeks, twenty-one days of anguish, specially the first one, when he had discovered the immense weight of loneliness. Afterwards Gohan had helped him a lot, but that did not change the fact that she had not been there and that they had had nor the smallest idea of when she would be back, not even if she would ever.

May she never leave again!! He hated it!!! May she always stay with him, he did not want to be alone ever again, ever again!!!

He realised that his eyes were full with tears and, all of a sudden, a sob passed through him.

Mother caressed his hair and rocked against his body for some moments, saying nothing at all. Afterwards, softly, she pulled his head, that the boy had buried in her chest, apart, and she looked at him smiling.

"I have also missed you a lot, Trunks, my son...!!"

Too relieved to get angry, the boy felt how tears fell down his cheeks. But at least he tried, to get angry.

"Don't ever do that again, momma!!! Why do you do that?! I don't want you to leave ever again!! I didn't know if you would come back or not!!"

"But you know that I always come back, little one...", she answered, gently caressing his cheek.

"No!!! I don't!!!! I only know that you have always come back so far!! But what if now you didn't?! Don't ever go again, ok?!! Don't do it again!!!"

Mother dried his tears with her hand and pulled his bangs out of his face, her smile never leaving. He could tell that she was tired, she wore her clothes messy and her hair, uncombed, untidily tied in a pony tail. But, despite this, Trunks realised that she was shining with happiness. Her eyes were sparkling, her cheeks red and her smile was huge. It seemed to him that, although her aspect, he had never seen her that beautiful. And only on a few rare occasions had he seen her that happy.

When he was about to hide again in her arms, Gohan came from the kitchen.

"Hello, Gohan", mother saluted. "How have you been?"

"Fine. We've trained a lot, haven't we, Trunks? And we have also spent a ton of time playing the game console...! Your son has become a monster of video-games, Bulma."

The boy looked at him and saw him smile, with his hands in his pockets, exactly as always, as if nothing had happened, as if he had never explained nothing to the boy crying, as if he had not been speaking to him for a week and then talking to him afterwards, as if he had not asked the boy to forgive him, as if he had not just made him remember not to ever tell anyone, as if mother had never left. And the biggest relief that had ever washed through him made him shed more tears.

While he assented, mother caressed his hair and passed two fingers under his chin after, making him look at her in the eyes.

"It's alright, Trunks."

"What is alright?", he asked, raising a hand to dry his eyes.

"You have asked me not to ever leave again. So it's alright. I won't do it again."

The boy looked at her astonished while she widened her smile.

"Re... r-r-really?", he stuttered with disbelief.

"Really"

"Have you... finished? I-I mean..."

She nodded, hugging him.

"Yes. I've finished."

Trunks was rocked again by his mother's arms. Indeed, all had been sorted out. And the last three weeks of anguish became, automatically, just a bad memory. A bad memory that would never be repeated again. Because she would never leave again.

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(If ff.net allowed the font tags, you would be seeing next paragraphs in green... Thanks)

He got to smile, nervous, as well, and he tightened his grip around his bag, feeling that then was the most difficult part since he got in the ship, there in his world, and started moving through the quantum scum, was beginning. He had no idea of how to behave, nor what to do.

My God. She had to realise that!

He could almost see how he was trembling, and his heart, like mad, was beating hard in every spot of his body. He would not live through it. No, he would not. Gohan and mother had hated that he said that kind of things when he was a small kid. "I won't get along, mother, I will never understand these exercises", he said, in classes, and she went up the wall. "I won't ever be able to do that, Gohan, I will never be able to reach super sayjin!", and he told him off for wasting energy in complaining instead of using it to transform.

He had learnt to never say that. He knew that there was nothing he would get, by complaining. He knew that it was only justification that he used for himself for not feeling that guilty. If he would never be able to, he wouldn't feel as bad if he stopped trying!

But the fact was that he won't get along then. Everything was too new. Everything was too relative. He couldn't start to talk and expect everything, out of chance,would suit the life he would live in that world. There were too many coincidences. It was not possible that they happened all together. It was so unlikely!

In the end, he chose to answer a "hello" in the same voice she had used, shyly, and before looking at her again, he turned his eyes to the carpeted ground. She had very big eyes, black and, above all, intense. He couldn't bear her glance, not yet that they didn't know each other. He had never seen such an intense gaze... He reaffirmed his first impression. Indeed, the saviour of humankind was gorgeous. Hair as black as her eyes, falling in soft waves that reflected the light from the corridor. Bright smile, that enlightened all her face. And those eyes...

She reached his level and affectionately pulled his arm. He rolled his eyes from the ground and looked at her; now her black eyes were smiling, all her face was.

"Have you just arrived?", she asked, in a murmur.

He nodded his head. If she didn't ask where he had gone to, everything would be easier!

"Has anyone seen you?", she murmured again, and he, this time, shook his head no. As long as he knew, he hadn't met anyone else before meeting her. But why was she asking so? He hadn't the time to think about it before she tightened for some moments her grip on his arm and invited him to follow her along the corridor.

"Come...!", she whispered, waving at him, implicitly asking him to hurry up.

He followed her at once, and after walking for some minutes through the carpeted corridors, and being lifted by an elevator where he, being a kid, had played, in his destroyed Cc, as if it was still working, they got to a room, and she made him enter before closing the door after herself.

Trunks studied the bedroom. Something told him that it belonged to someone young (perhaps the printing in the quilt that was covering the bed, or perhaps the presence of the desk, with pen cases of several measures), but anyway, he thought, while she was motioning for him to sit on the bed, it all seemed somewhat strange, as if it was... he didn't know. As if it was artificial. Nothing clinging on the walls. Everything too tidy... It must be her room? He didn't believe so.

She sat by his side, looked at him for some seconds without saying anything and afterwards, making her smile wider, she introduced herself.

"Hello... my name is Pan", she said, and her tone was as if she was apologizing for not having told him before, for having dragged him so hastily to the bedroom.

Trunks, surprised, blinked. The woman was introducing herself. But why was she? It was to be assumed that they knew each other, wasn't it? Or, at least, she had acted as if they did... she had grabbed him by his arm, she had affectionately talked to him, she had smiled; he had thought that they were friends or that, to say the least, they were acquaintances. In the end, she was Gohan's daughter. They must have talked lots of times; they would have had on many occasions.

But then she was introducing herself. Why? Why? His brain was working vigorously, and he could hear his heart beating hard. And what was he to say then? From what he would say would depend his future there...

He opened his mouth and, without realising, an insecure voice that fought for him not to reveal his true nature escaped from his lips.

"Why... W-why do you assume that I didn't know your name?"

Once he finished the sentence, he felt that it hadn't been a very natural question. He had intended to react as if it had no sense, that she was asking him that. But that was not the way. He would have had to say... something like, he didn't know, hey, what's the matter, are you all right? I do know, that your name is Pan! But, with his sentence, better than trying to hide that he knew nothing about that world, he had totally uncovered himself.

How had he started that bad?

So her name was Pan...

She laughed, lightly, seeming, though, a bit disconcerted, and said something that paralysed him.

"Because you don't...", she said, shrugging slightly. "Because you are Trunks, who has come from the past, where you went to save my mother, so I could be born and kill the Monster..."

After some brief instants of silence, the boy sighed, astonished. That meant that there, they knew who he was exactly and what he had been doing. They knew everything!!

How was it possible that...?

Of course...! Her parents! He had been with her parents there, in the past, repairing the ship and discussing his travel back to the future. Then he was in the future of that world, since it was where he had parted. In the past they had taken for granted that he would go to an alternative world, because of what Gohan had advised him so fervently, but he was wrong.

They had forgotten that, most of the time, the most probable option was the one that really happened; if he departed from that world, the most logical was that he appeared in the future of that same world, without Monster, with Pan, but the same world in the end. And, therefore, Gohan and Videl could remember him and knew that he would come. Gohan should have thought about that later. Perhaps he hadn't ever been sure that he, one day, would appear. But they still ignored too many things about time travel as to discard options. So, to take precautions, they had gotten prepared, telling everyone.

It was as if... they were waiting for him.

"So you know everything, don't you?", he said, without changing his astonished voice and glance.

She nodded, smiling, and to the eyes of the man, her beauty grew even bigger.

As she didn't say anything, the man retook the conversation.

"You were waiting for me, weren't you?"

The woman looked at him for some moments, and afterwards, saying nothing else, she drew closer to him in the bed and hugged him tight, putting her arms around his neck and hiding her face on his shoulder.

He felt his stomach jump, something he had never felt before, that made him smile and blush slightly. It was a... very nice sensation! He let his arms slip around the woman's waist and entwined his fingers on her back, hugging her as well, as he let her scent surround him. She smelled nice, fresh, relaxing. And her skin, which was brushing against his neck and cheek, was smooth, smooth and warm...

How pretty she was...

With this thought, his stomach, his chest or whatever it was jumped again inside, making him smile wider. It had been very, very long since he had last felt that good. If he had ever felt that good, that is.

After an undetermined while, the woman pulled back from his shoulder.

"I have missed you very much...", she murmured; with a voice that was smiling, and rested her head again.

During a short moment, Trunks did not think of the meaning of that sentence, he just kept on embracing her, with his mind practically blank, as he was surrounded by her energy, her scent.

But then he saw it. How could she have missed him? Actually, it was supposed that he had not gone anywhere, had he? That was to say, the 'he' of that time... had been with her since she was born, hadn't he? And how could she have missed him, if she had never met him before? Or she meant the other one? Obviously, she had to mean the other one. If she had missed him that meant that he was not there. But why not? Was he abroad...? He thought of the stupid idea of more time travels, but he discarded it. Why would he have had to travel?

Or was it that...

He searched for her eyes, and she looked at him, smiling, blushing a bit.

"How is it that you have...", he started, but he didn't find it a good way to set it and changed his mind. "I mean... is it that there is not... a Trunks, in this world?

She knitted her brows, doubting. She bit her lip and looked at him, now her eyes were shining with sadness, and he understood what had happened without needing her to explain it.

" He died... He was the last victim of the Monster..."

"And... I mean... you remember him? How old were you when that... happened?"

"Nine... I was still training to defeat him."

"Well... I'm sorry..."

It was strange to express his condolences for his own death!

"It doesn't matter... but I've missed you...!"

She hid herself again between his neck and shoulder and he, feeling that she smiled, hugged her tighter.

His brain was moving frantically, analysing the fact of being dead in that time. So it was that in that world, where he had just been, just a couple of hours before, with Gohan and Videl, repairing the time machine, or, indeed, in the future of that time, he had died in the Monster's hands... One day he had seen himself, from afar, seven years old, running after Gohan. A child, still, enthralled, after his master... He hadn't talked to him, of course, it would have been counter-productive. And now, that child, that was himself, was dead...

It was as if someone was making his way easier. In this time there was no Trunks, therefore, one of the problems that he could have, and all the paradoxes that supposed the fact that there was the same person twice in a same world were eliminated as well.

And one of the other problems that he could have, that everyone expected things from him that he couldn't give them, that they noted that he was not normal, that he came from another place, was also eliminated, for they were informed about everything, they knew all what he had done, there was no need to hide, to pretend to be someone he wasn't, nothing at all.

It was all so easy that it seemed impossible.

Just when he closed his eyes and sighed, she withdrew a bit and looked at him, smiling, expectantly. It was as if her eyes brought an unspoken question, now, what?

He shrugged, wishing that she didn't separate more from him, but she let her arms slip and in the end only having one of her hands over his, on the bed.

He missed her. He was cold!

But he had to say anything... He had just arrived from the past. By all that was sacred, she was waiting for him to have something to say!

Finally, he spoke out loud the only rational thing that he had thought about.

"It's all so easy that is seems impossible..."

She raised one shoulder, smiling.

"Mother and father explained everything to me."

"But I thought I would have to fake, I don't know... To tell the truth, I don't know what I would have done!"

"It's better like this, isn't it?", she answered, with bright eyes, and he energetically nodded.

They stared at each other for some seconds without saying anything until he, shy, looked to the ground and asked about her parents.

"They are well", she answered, rolling her eyes and smiling. "They will want to see you..."

Something came to Trunks's mind.

"Listen, before, why did you want to avoid anyone seeing me? Why have we come here so quickly?"

"I wanted to prevent you... explain everything to you, so that it was not so new..."

"Thanks, then...", he answered, and she shrugged, diminishing it. The boy looked around. "It's... I mean... it was my room, wasn't it?"

"Yes... no one wanted to touch it much, so it pretty much stayed as it was."

After some more seconds in silence, that the man used to scan through the room, he looked at her again.

"You know?, I don't know why, but I had always imagined Gohan's baby as a boy..."

She smiled openly, raising her brows, questioningly.

"Thanks...?", she said, cocking her head.

"No, no... it was just... a comment!"

"Should I feel... I don't know, thankful, disturbed, indifferent?"

"No...! Nothing at all... it was just a, a comment, this, that's all, totally innocent... You had always been, I don't know, 'he, the saviour of humankind'... I don't know why..."

He felt how, trapped, he was starting to blush, and he lowered his eyes so that she didn't notice.

"It's curious...", he heard her say, after a while.

"What is?"

"How someone's perception can change when you grow up..."

"What do you mean?", he asked, smiling.

"When I was a kid, I thought you were very old...", she changed her voice, making it more childish, dyed with admiration. "Woooow... how grown up he is... how many things he knows how to do..."

The man smiled. He had also gone through that phase with Gohan; he felt for him a limitless admiration, he knew how to do everything, he was capable of repairing everything and if he was not killing the Monster already it was only because he hadn't had the time yet, but he would, sooner or later, it was evident!

He tried to imagine a young Pan and it wasn't very difficult, with ponytails in her hair, short and with softer, rounded features, like how young children had them. How beautiful she must have been! And now it had to be very weird for her to see him... now that he was as old as her, she realised that he was not as perfect as she had imagined when she was nine.

"I'm crushing childish myths, now...", he joked, gripping her hand softly.

Her eyes made that something inside him jump again, spreading butterflies through all his body.

"Oh, but some others appear as well...", she said with a naughty smile, shining eyes and blushing cheeks. "You are very good-looking..."

Feeling his face burning, he hid his head between his shoulders and looked to the ground.

"No one had ever said that to me... only mother, but...!", he got to murmur.

"Ah! Then, you'll have to get used to it..."

He looked at her, shy.

"Why?"

"Oh, for you were very popular with women..." She brought her hands to both sides of her face and faked a scream, hysterical. "Aaaah!!! Mr. Torankusu!!!, they cried!"

"R-re... really?"

She nodded vigorously.

"They were after you like flies...! They all wanted you as their boyfriend!"

Trunks swallowed, disturbed. No one had ever told him that he was particularly good-looking. Only mother, but her opinion didn't count, besides, she had died when he was still a kid and he hadn't had the time to develop. Then... he was good-looking?

"And you mean that now I will be popular as well...? I mean..."

The woman repeated the energetic gesture she had made before.

"Sure..." She made a pause, staring at him. "You know?, to think that, before, when I was a child, I didn't understand them..."

Seeing her eyes shining with sincerity and her blushing cheeks, he felt as if all the blood in his veins had gone to his face, and he had to look down, shyly smiling.

It wasn't until a few moments later that he felt able to look at her again.

"You are very beautiful too...", he said, sincerely.

"Thanks...!", she said, slightly cocking her head and making her hair move in soft waves. After laughing softly, she stared at him, without losing her smile. "Listen, I'm normally not like this, eh? I mean, don't think that I always... have my hormones so uncontrolled... I... I am a tidy, equilibrated, controlled woman... really!"

He had to laugh, and she did as well.

"... I am also an equilibrated, controlled man..."

"Not very tidy, are you?", she asked, noticing that he had omitted the adjective she had used.

"No, not much..."

Pan knitted her brows, faking sadness.

"So you are not uncontrolled...", she said, and he laughed again, raising a shoulder, making the pleading expression in her face disappear, that, after a few moments observing him, became a wider smile. "Listen, are you doing anything, tonight?"

He laughed again.

"No, not that I know of...!"

"Then, would you like to...", she started, looking at him with what was becoming a naughty look, although something made her change her mind and she went back to the shy expression she had before. "Oh!, don't pay attention to me, I'm not like this, really!", she exclaimed, and they both laughed.

"If you want to go out for supper... I'm free!"

"No...!", she answered, pulling some strands of hair out of her face, nervously. "We will have to have supper with my parents... but I liked that seductive look!"

It took him a few seconds to understand that she meant his look.

"I've looked seductively...", he smiled, sceptic. "I didn't know..."

"Yup! And I like it...", she laughed, before asking again. "And after having supper?"

"I'm all yours!", he said, shrugging and trying to copy the expression she had considered seductive.

"Yes, uh...? I'll take your word, eh?"

"All yours as well!"

After laughing lightly, they both kept silent for a while, both lost in their thoughts, until the girl broke the silence.

"I guess that you will want to see my parents...", she sighed.

"Yes, now...", he vaguely answered. He didn't feel like leaving that room, meeting more people, he wanted to stay like he was, with her alone.

But he had to ask some things. She wouldn't find it normal, he couldn't be silent, and that was all. A second time, he had to remember that he had just come back from two time travels. For God's sake, hadn't he anything to ask?

"How... how is mother...?", he finally asked.

The expression of the girl progressively changed until becoming sad, though she kept her smile. Trunks didn't need to hear anything.

"She's dead, isn't she?"

She nodded.

After keeping his silence for some moments, remembering the day when, as a small kid, he knew of her death, he looked at her.

"Before or after me?"

"Before"

"That's good, then..."

"Why?"

"Because it must be horrible to see your son die...", he said, keeping the sad expression. "Hey, it doesn't matter, eh? I got over it a very long time ago...!"

She smiled wider and grasped his hand.

"Who is alive, then?"

"My parents, you, me... and most of the humankind...!"

"And my father...? Your grandparents...?"

"They were already dead when you went to the past, remember?"

"Of course...", he said, thoughtful. "I should have gone sooner... but then you would not have been conceived yet and it would have been useless... what a mess!", he concluded, shaking his head, and an idea went through his mind. "Have you noticed? To save you, I died... I mean that, because of the distortion I caused..."

She looked at him, raising her brows.

"Everything is so paradoxical when you time-travel..."

"I'm happy of having saved you!", he concluded, smiling openly and blushing slightly. "And... thanks for killing It..."

"A pleasure!", she answered, impetuously.

They stared at each other, quiet, Trunks was on the verge of saying something else but, for some reason, he forgot what, and it seemed that the same happened to her, for she remained looking at him, without saying anything else, while her smile became wider and her eyes, huge, were so bright that the man could see his own reflection for some instants before she looked away and bit her lips, shamefully.

"Hey... I better calm down... eh?", she murmured, and he, laughing, tried to hide his trepidation.

"Then, what will we do after supper...?", he asked, without thinking, for, in those moments, he wouldn't have felt able to.

"Anything you want...", she said, looking at him with happiness.