AN:  This story is hard to write.  I know how I want to end, it's getting there without breaking character that's sticky. 

"Father, I cannot believe that you, of all people, are forcing me to train with a false Saiyan!"

"Watch your mouth, boy.  Have you forgotten that your mother is a false Saiyan?"

"Have you forgotten that mother has no power?  She cannot even fly, damn it!"

Among the dark blue draping of the throne room, a heated battle of words was being waged between father and son.  Trunks had just returned from the healing chambers, the smell of regeneration fluid still clinging to his skin.  The tanks had done their job, all evidence that he had been in a fight were removed, aside from a thin scar where Kameko had split his chin.  From his stance towards his father, an observer might be led to believe that Trunks was ready to enter another fight, this time with his dad. 

It was a complete role reversal.  Normally, Vegeta was heated, while Trunks remained seated and cool.  From his throne, Vegeta glanced over his son, and was inwardly greatly pleased that he was fighting this, rather than simply shrugging and taking it.  This fire, this piss and vinegar, this is what Vegeta desired to drag out from Trunks.  And if he would train to do so, so be it. "And yet, you were soundly thrashed by this girl.  Training should improve your horrendous technique.  Or have you conveniently chosen to disregard that fact?"

Trunks reached a hand up, and absentmindedly traced the line of his scar.  "We were powered fully down.  If we were fighting with ki, there would be no match!" 

"Why does that make a difference?"  Vegeta stood, and paced around the throne.  "Why should I not require that the Prince possess the best fighting techniques, powered up or not?"

Feeling the argument slip through his fingers, Trunks decided to turn the topic a bit.  "I trained under the same style as you, Father.  If my technique is lacking, so is yours.  Why are you not jumping at this training chance, if you consider it so sophisticated?"

Vegeta let out a slow breath.  Trunks had returned to his cool, emotionless state.  By turning the question back on him, he had snapped back into his unruffled emotional stance.  Vegeta sat back down on the throne and fixed his son in place with his gaze.  "Because I have experience to teach me that overexertion does me no good.  You are still young, and should be taught everything you can before habits solidify."

Trunks smirked a bit as he thought of the possibilities before him.  "And if I refuse?  Or kill the girl?"

Creasing his eyebrows together, Vegeta affixed Trunks with the coldest glower Trunks could remember ever receiving.  "Refuse, and I revoke your claim to the throne.  Your mother is still young enough to bear another.  And I suggest you do not kill the girl, if you know what's best for you."  As the last sentence left his lips, a crackle of golden energy flickered to life around Vegeta's face. 

Any other person standing in Trunks' place probably would have been quivering with fear by now.  However, the young Prince simply cocked his head, and agreed to train with Kameko.  Bowing, Trunks turned and left the throne room for his own quarters.

Over on the other side of the planet, things were not faring as well. 

"But, Dad!  I can't train the Prince!  I can't even train a pet to sit!  What am I supposed to do with a Prince?"

Gathered outside the Turtle Hermit's house, Kameko, her father, and a family friend stood around the lone tree, discussing how Kameko could successfully complete her task.  Kameko was being her usual overdramatic self, pacing around, hands running through her hair, alternately yelling and moaning about her duty.  The friend was trying to make light of the situation, occasionally shooting off a good crack.  The old master, however, was serious about the business at hand.  "My dear, I'll have to teach you how to train a Prince."

"Dad, you've never trained a Prince.  How do you know?  Oh, why I couldn't be asked to teach him how to sing or something?"

The friend, smiling, interjected his knowledge.  "Because you couldn't carry a tune if it were tied to you?"

Kameko turned, the sparkle in her eyes betraying the frown on her face.  "Thanks, Krillin.  Always glad to know I can count on you to point out the bleeding obvious."

Krillin shrugged, and smiled at the daughter of his martial arts master.  The old master guided Kameko to a lawn chair, and bided her to sit before she paced a rut into the grass.  Leaning against the side, he crinkled his brows and began telling Kameko how to teach a prince.  "First, what you need to remember is that no matter how good you are, he is better.  Whether that is true or not doesn't matter.  He will think he's better, so let it stand.  Your job is to teach him that, even though he's better, you have some knowledge he should have." 

Leaning back on the fragrant grass, Krillin stared at the horizon.  "But, how would she do that?"

"By stroking his ego while pointing him in the right direction."

Pulling a disgusted face, Kameko looked at her dad.  "Great, I've gotta suck up to someone who considers me less than scum, while simultaneously teaching him something that he resents being taught.  No problem.  Why don't I create a new source of energy and draw up a charter for galaxy peace while I'm at it?" 

Master Roshi frowned at his offspring.  "This isn't the time for sarcasm."

"I have no patience," Kameko sighed.  "I'm lucky to wait for water to boil in the quick-heater.  And, to top it off, His-Royal-Pain-in-the-Arse is going to teach me to raise my power level.  Aren't I lucky?  More time with the Dick of All Saiyans."

"I'm sorry dear, but that's going to be a problem." 

"Why, Dad?"

With a look of regret, Master Roshi relayed the news to his daughter.  "I'm afraid that your power level is probably already very near its max.  You are one of the stronger of us, which made you a fighter.  But, you're not going to get much stronger.  We, as a race, aren't capable of much more power."

Defiant, Kameko stood.  "And if I refuse?  If I refuse to train the Prince?"

Unable to meet his daughter's eyes, the wise teacher looked at the grass below.  "While you were recovering, I was informed that if you refused, the royal guards would come for me."  Both Krillin and Kameko whirled around, fire blazing in their eyes.  "If you still don't want to, it's alright.  Save yourself." 

Growling, Kameko looked out in the direction of the palace.  "No, I'll go.  And I'll teach him.  When do I start?"

"Tommorow."

AN Part 2:

The DBZ Mary Sue Litmus Test is here: http://writersu.s5.com/history/msl04.html.  Thank the nice person who wrote it. 

Knightwing:  Great, a psych student.  So, if I mess up horribly with how someone should react, at least I've got someone smacking me for it.  :)  I combined Mirai's detachment with Chibi's upbringing to get this Trunks.  (And made him look like Mirai.  Sorry, can't help that one.)  ;)  I'll explain it better as time goes on; I'm working this slowly, lest it start looking like a romance. 

Babyshiro:  *points up*  Up there's the test.  Thanks for reading!

Vegge's Mate:  Thanks!