After a big dinner at the Capsule Corp., Chibi Trunks had to go to bed. Vegeta went to train and had invited Mirai Trunks along but Bulma shoed him off, she wanted to talk to him. She busied herself with making tea while Mirai Trunks sat at the table, his hands folded in his lap. He took the tea that Bulma offered him with muttered thanks and sipped it. Bulma sat across from him and rested her chin on her hands, watching Trunks. He soon became uncomfortable under her gaze and stared into his cup, idly swirling the tea.

"So," Bulma said and Trunks looked up. "Why did you return?" Trunks shrugged.

"I thought you guys might like to know what was going on." He said. He lowered his eyes and took another sip.

"Is that all?"

"No." he muttered not meeting her eyes. "Imissed everyone. I wanted to see you all again." He glared at the cup in his hand as if it was its fault in some way. His shoulder-length hair slid to hide his suddenly bright eyes as he brought the cup closer to him. "I felt so alone." He continued, his voice pained, "Even around a crowd of people I'm alone. I'm the only one with my powers, no one else could ever understand." His voice slipped into a whisper, "No one, not even Mom." Bulma looked at him with a sudden understanding. She had known that something was bothering him, and it wasn't all 18.

"Gohan was the only one who did." Bulma said and Trunks nodded. He was so thankful for is long hair, hiding and absorbing his tears. Once he returned home and after he had destroyed the androids and the excitement of his trip had worn off, he became lonely and depressed and had let his hair grow out. He knew that he only had to ask his mom to cut it but he just didn't really care anymore. It actually had been his mother who had suggested this trip and he leaped at the chance to go. The Time Machine had been dismantled but it only took a few weeks to put it back together.

"Gohan–" Trunks choked down a sob and then became angry with himself. He shouldn't be crying! He took a breath and continued, "Gohan was the one who trained me. He was the only one who understood me and my power and–" Trunks took another breath, and it's my fault that he died. Gohan had knocked him unconscious and went to fight the androids alone, and died. But it was Trunks' fault that he hadn't expected Gohan's hand, his fault that Gohan had lost his arm. Had he not been there, Gohan wouldn't have had to help him. If he hadn't been so weak Gohan wouldn't have had to save him and if Gohan hadn't lost his arm–Trunks looked in surprise at his own arm. Warm tea spread on the arm of his jacket, the cup crushed in his hand. Bulma got up and took the cup from Trunks' hand and tossed him a towel. Trunks wiped down the table and began on his jacket.

"I'll clean that, just take it off." Trunks nodded and began pulling it off but froze when Bulma said: "Gohan's death wasn't your fault." Had Bulma read his mind? Trunks thought back and realized he had spoken out loud. Bulma walked behind him to take his jacket as Trunks shook his head in denial. Then she became angry at his missed-placed blame and whapped him upside the head with an open hand. She massaged her hand but it had had the desired effect. Trunks spun around to stare at her in surprise. "Trunks! Don't. You. DARE. Blame yourself for that! You had no control over it! Had Gohan not knocked you out you'd be dead! And we'd be in the same horrid situation as you where!" Trunks stared at her wide-eyed. Bulma was really just stabbing in the dark but it seemed like she hit the target. She continued: "Look at all the wondrous things we have today because of you! Everyone is happy and alive! Because of you! Trunks has someone to play with that's his own age because of you! Goten doesn't even exist in your time! Gohan's alive!" Bulma pulled Trunks to his feet, the jacket forgotten on the chair. Tears glistened on his cheek and she wiped them away with her hand. "Trunks," she said softly, "it's not your fault that Gohan died. He died for you. He died so you could live and become what you are today. You saved us." She hugged him and he buried his face in her shoulder, crying. He clung to her, surprisingly gentle for all his strength, and Bulma held him and rocked him. She looked up and saw Vegeta leaning against the doorframe. His eyes looked–soft?–as he studied at Trunks. He caught sight of Bulma looking at him and turned around and left without a word. Which was probably best. Trunks would have been shamed to his bones if he knew his father had seen him like that. If only Vegeta would keep his big mouth shut. But somehow Bulma knew that he would. Trunks stopped crying and quickly pulled back. He looked at the ground blushing fiercely.

"I–I'm sorry." He stuttered.

"For what? For being human?" Bulma said and Trunks looked up at her, she handed him a tissue. "Come on, lets get you settled into a room."

She said and turned to lead him from the room. Vegeta was nowhere in sight. Trunks followed her. She led him to a room, across the hall from Chibi Trunks' room and opened the door and flipped on the light.

"This is our guest room, it's not often used but it'll have to do."

"Thank you." Trunks said, "This is fine." Bulma smiled at him and he smiled uncertainly back.

"Get to bed, it's late." She said.

"Thanks Mom. Night." He said and shut the door behind him.

"Good night Trunks, my son." She said and went to her own room. She laid down on the bed and thought hard about how to lift Trunks' spirits. Then she had an idea.

"It's perfect." She said and smiled.

"What's perfect?" Vegeta asked coming in. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it in the hamper.

"Take a shower!" Bulma said.

"I was planning on it." Vegeta grunted, "What's perfect?" he repeated.

"I'll tell you later." She said and smiled. Vegeta growled and went to take a shower as ordered.