And so it was done.
Trunks, son of Vegetable the prince of all Saiyans, had slain the android menace what had ravaged and devastated the planet earth and slaughtered millions of innocent lives. Even Cell, the monstrous bio-android the late Dr. Gero had developed in his sub lab, had been dealt with thanks to special insight. While Trunks had failed to change history given his lack of understanding in regards to the space/time continuum, something he had verbally berated his so called genius of a mother over, his trip to the past had given him a better understanding of many things, from himself, to current events, and, most importantly, his father and the Z Fighters. While Vegeta's cold and dissociative had certainly been off putting, he was glad to have his father's respect as well as gaining newfound strength from training with him. But the most humbling experience was getting to see Gohan again, the great warrior what had trained him and helped him to find the strength that made it all possible. Granted, this Gohan was much younger and far from a warrior, being more pacifistic due to being born in a non-dystopian world, but at the same time it was good to see what humble beginnings molded his teacher into a wise, caring, and noble man. Now that the androids had been dealt with and Cell was no more, Trunks could work to continue on in his mentor's memory as he tried to rebuild a shattered world.
Granted, restoring peace was not such a simple task. In the first year alone of their rampage, the androids 17 and 18 had lain waste to every major government structure they could get their hands on, crippling the human race. It would be a while before humanity realized that the androids were indeed destroyed, but that still left the number of riots and looting that continued for what scraps there were to fight for. Trunks had dispelled a large number of them already, on account he was the strongest being on the planet now, but there was still a lot of death in the world, and the dragon balls, the seven mystical orbs what summoned the mythical Shenron to grant one's greatest desire, were long gone with the death of Piccolo. While there were other dragon balls in the universe, his mother had still as of yet to find New Namek where they could try to make a wish. He was keeping to himself that he had forgotten to learn instant transmission from Goku so as to lock onto Dende's energy to find them. So, for now until she did find them, Trunks had to settle for flying around and trying to quell any outbreaks he could find.
Enter today, where Trunks flew over what remained of Ginger Town. In the alternate past, this was one of the first cities Cell destroyed in the hopes of attaining his perfect form. In truth, there was very little between then and now in terms of destruction and death. Looking down, he spied the Vinegar gang, a group of bikers that had made Ginger Town their personal playground. Trunks could see piles of food and stock tanks of water that had been selfishly hoarded, as well as the bodies of those that had tried desperately to take from it. As though to spit on their graves, the bikers were driving around their supplies and kicking up dust, screaming and laughing and just making fools of themselves, and it was more than Trunks was willing to tolerate. He raised a hand, pointing a finger at the leader's bike. A tiny yellow blip of ki energy formed from his fingertip, and he let it fly. It lazily drifted through the air, and there was a deafening boom as it connected with the lead bike's fuel tank, throwing the burly biker into the air before crashing down again. Trunks then slowly descended before touching down just as the man had recovered. Perhaps it was the shades, or maybe the odiferous fellow was just as stupid as he looked, but the fellow seemed unfazed by the flying man with the sword on his back.
"Hey!" he rumbled, a cloud of halitosis drifting into Trunks' airspace. "You gotta deathwish or something? Look what you did to my bike!"
Trunks rolled his eyes.
"I'm taking this." He said, pointing to the food and water. "I'll leave plenty for you and your friends, but I won't hesitate to kill any of you should you try to stop me."
The biker studied Trunks for a moment, and then he threw his head back in a throaty cackle.
"You hear that, boys? This little pretty boy thinks he's gonna take our stuff."
His crew got a laugh, and the man proceeded to remove his helmet, shades, jacket and shirt. All but instantly, the air gained a horrible haze of putrid stench as the greasy haired hooligan leered at Trunks.
"You know who I am? I am the great Bacterian! I once fought in the twenty-first world fighters tournament with nothing but my putrid stench, and since then I've furthered my technique, adding various noxious substances to my skin and hair. I even gargled raw sewage to improve my bad breath technique. You picking up what I'm putting down? You can't even touch me, so how could you hope to fight me?"
Trunks had to admit that he was starting to get a bad stomachache from the foul air. That being said, he didn't need, nor would he ever want, to touch him. He placed his hands together, and he thrust them out.
"Masenko!"
A beam of yellow light fired from his hands, and it struck Bacterian dead center, sending him careening through the air and into his fellow bikers' bikes. They were all knocked into the dirt, and it should be stated that Bacterian ended up getting a handlebar stuck where it didn't belong. This was enough for his cronies, who fled and ran, and soon even Bacterian was running away. Or, at least, waddling. Trunks let them go, not wishing to stay any longer than needed, and he approached the food and water supplies. He fetched some capsules, and he began to collect when a glimmer of movement caught his eye. On instinct, he spun and fired a ki blast. It scorched the earth next to a young woman with dark hair. It seemed that in the midst of Bacterian's boasting, she had been stealing from his hoard. The minute she locked eyes with him, she turned and fled.
"Hey, wait!" Trunks exclaimed. "I'm sorry, I didn't…"
It was clear she wasn't listening, or simply didn't hear, and already she had cleared half the city. The woman was fast, clearly better trained than most humans, and trunks ran to catch up with her. The woman quickly ducked into a ruined bar, and Trunks started to follow, only to stop short when a shotgun was aimed in his face.
"Stop right there!" the woman said, a tremble in her voice as she white knuckled the weapon. "Just…just take what you want and go!"
Trunks wasn't concerned about the weapon, he could effortlessly take it from her if he wanted, but he didn't want to frighten her. He held up his hands, and he tried to look as harmless as possible.
"Look, I'm sorry I scared you." He said in earnest. "My name is Trunks. I had been following the Vinegar Gang for some time after they stole a bunch of food from a shelter. If you want more, I'd be more than happy to give you some."
The woman studied him for a long moment, and then she lowered the gun.
"Wait a minute. You're Trunks? Gohan's Trunks?"
Trunk's brows shot up.
"You…you knew Gohan?"
The woman nodded, and she placed her shotgun over her shoulder.
"I'm Videl. It sounds like Gohan didn't talk about me, but I can only imagine it was for my protection. We met about a year ago when my home was ransacked by some looters. He sorta took me under his wing and taught me how to defend myself, though, suffice to say, I wasn't anywhere near on his level. I could always get away and grab my weapons if I needed to, though."
"That definitely sounds like Gohan." Trunks chuckled, a plentitude of good memories replaying fondly in his head. "No, he never mentioned you, but he did always run off every early morning. I wondered where he went."
"Well, you're looking at it." Videl said. "Gohan would check up on me all the time, keeping me company, training me, and just being there when I had nothing else."
She frowned.
"I had heard about what happened to him. What those…those monsters did to him. It was hard knowing that last time I saw him…would be the last time I saw him."
"I know what you mean." Trunks said with a sad sigh. "I've been trying to live up to his example. To be a hero that can stand up for others, but I know I'll never truly measure up. I still miss him, and I just wish there was some piece left I could hold onto."
Just then, a sound pierced the air that sent a jolt through Trunks' body. It was the cry of a baby, and it was coming from within the bar. Videl immediately ran back in, and Trunks started to follow when a fresh jolt ran through him. A noticeable aura had just touched his senses, one much higher than the average human's. What was more, it felt strangely familiar, almost like…
Trunks resumed following Videl into the back of the building. There he found a small living space with a cot in the corner and a makeshift crib. Floating over it was the crying baby, and Videl was desperately trying to catch her.
"Come on! Come on, Pan! Come to mommy! Mommy'll catch you!"
From what Trunks could tell of Videl's moderate mannerisms, this had happened before. On a whim, Trunks hovered up to the ceiling, and as the child, Pan he believed her name was, came his way he carefully took her into his arms before floating down. Videl rushed over, and she took her still weeping infant in hand.
"She discovered the other day she could float." Videl said sheepishly. "Normally she loves it, but when she does it while she's napping it scares her."
Trunks was still a bit at a loss for words. The child was the spitting image of her mother in appearance, but that aura. That seemingly bottomless pit of potential that lay dormant within her tiny frame. It seemed like…but it simply couldn't be…
"Tell me." He said. "Who is her father?"
Videl lowered her gaze, and a stray tear broke away from her eye.
"I think you already know." She said, a slight croak in her voice.
Trunks' knees gave out on him, and he collapsed to the floor, only barely catching himself. Why hadn't Gohan said anything? Why hadn't he told him? Surely he knew what he had done; what he had created. There was no possible way he couldn't have sensed his own daughter in the process of being born. Why would he have gone into battle knowing full well that he had a child on the way? The answer came quicker to him than he could have guessed. After all, Gohan had done everything in his power to keep him out of the fight with the androids. At the time, he had believed that it was because he thought he wasn't strong enough, but now Trunks saw the truth. This was what Gohan had been counting on and hoping for. He needed someone that could pick up where he left off, and to ensure that the next generation made it through. With a quake in his knees and a shiver in his spirit, Trunks forced himself to rise, and he looked to Videl and Pan. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then bent his spine in a bow.
"I want you two to come with me." He said. "There's plenty of room, and you'll be safer at Capsule CORP. Please, let me take care of you in Gohan's stead. I beg of you!"
"Woah, take it easy!" Videl said, reaching over and tilting his head up. "Really, that isn't necessary. Pan and I have been just fine on our own."
"But I must!" Trunks insisted. "Had I of been stronger back then that I could have stood at Gohan's side, then he would be alive today to help you raise that little girl. I have to make that right!"
"You can't possibly blame yourself for that." Videl chided softly. "We all saw how powerful those monsters were. Gohan was tough, but not even he could take them on alone."
"But I did!" Trunks insisted. "I killed them, and another one that Dr. Gero had hidden! I got strong enough to kill them all, which means I could have been strong enough to fight them then if I had of tried hard enough."
This brought Videl pause.
"You…you killed them? They're…they're dead?"
Trunks nodded, and he thrust out his arms as his hair glowed gold with the mythical power of the Super Saiyan. It was a sacred transformation amongst his father's ancestors, and only true warriors could attain this power, much less wield it.
"This is the power Gohan fought to teach me." He told Videl. "It was with this power I slew the both of them and avenged Gohan. Now they will never harm an innocent soul ever again."
He dispelled the power and went back to normal. To his surprise, Pan had started to laugh, reaching out for him even. She was part saiyan to some degree, Trunks figured, so perhaps she instinctively understood the significance of the transformation. She desired to learn.
"I could train your daughter." He offered. "The androids are gone, but I can't guarantee something just as bad or, dare I even think it, worse could come. This is a very dangerous world, and we all need to do our best to be prepared. I can help Pan to reach her full potential like how Gohan helped me."
Videl looked down at her giggling daughter. This was the most excited she had seen Pan since she was born. Sure, fighting was in their blood, but she hadn't really thought about that kind of life for her child. Then again, Trunks had a point. It had become a world of kill and take, and she wouldn't always be there to protect Pan. Heck, Trunks wouldn't always be there, too. Perhaps it would be good for her to be raised in a safer environment while also being taught how to defend herself. She didn't like the idea of leaving what had been her home for the better part of a year, but at the same time she knew it wouldn't last long with the likes of Bacterian still skulking around.
"I suppose you're not giving me much choice here." She said. "Alright then, I accept. But just know that I'll be holding you to the highest standard when it comes to my daughter. After all, she is the grandchild of the world martial arts champ and the strongest man on earth."
"I'll do my best to meet your expectations." Trunks promised with a wry little grin. "Let me finish up gathering this food, and we can…"
The last part of Videl's sentence suddenly struck him, and he looked her over once more.
"Wait a second. Your father was the world marital arts champion?"
Videl beamed, and she nodded.
"That's right. I'm the daughter of the one and only Hercule the mighty! World martial arts champion and protector of the people! I'm sure you've heard of him."
An image of an afro'd man being backhanded by a green cicada man into a nearby mountainside flashed across his mind, and he worked hard not to look suspicious.
"Oh, I know of him alright. When he's around, people go flying. Let's get going."
He made a hasty exit, leaving Videl standing there with suspicious looks.
"Why do I get the feeling he's not telling me something?"
