Author's note: Hiya everyone!! Extremally sorry for not having this chapter up sooner.I've been busy with other projects (*cough* What If we woke up beside the DBZ guys *cough *) and school. If you haven't read my What If We Woke Up Beside The DBZ Guys fic yet, you should! It's really funny (apperantly.I've only done one chapter and I already have 28 reviews)! So yea. Please forgive me.I'll try to have the next chapter up sooner. Honest!! Ok, I'll let you read this. Oh and by the way, it's really emotional. Make sure you have a box of kleenex somewhere nearby. Ok, here you go, the second chapter of Unclaimed Closure! Please review!!!!!!! (

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, I think Akira Toriyama does. yea I'm sure he does. Akira Toriyama kix a$$!!! Cool manga GOD anyways.





Crunch, munch. Crunch, munch. The sound reverberated through the small kitchen as Trunks Brief ate his Cheerios. He shovelled spoonful after spoonful of his favorite cereal into his mouth. He had grown hungry from his restless sleep the previous night, and needed his strength for the coming work day.

"Wow! The Art district has finally been rebuilt. Maybe now this city will regain some of its lost culture." His mother who sat across from him at the kitchen table blew at the steam rising from her coffee cup and held a newspaper in front of her. His hand reached his cup of orange juice and downed it in one gulp. "I mean," his mother continued. "We lost so much of it because of the androids and their destructive nature..."

Trunks gulped down the last of his cereal as he tried to forget his dream the night before and reached for the cereal box again. Bulma turned her gaze to him. "You sure are hungry this morning son."

Trunks shrugged. "I gotta keep up my strength you know."

"I know, but 4 boxes?" Bulma's gaze fell on the empty cheerio boxes nearby. "Isn't that a bit...much?"

"What can I say? I'm hungry."

Bulma's brow furrowed. "There's something bothering you. Is it the androids again?" Trunks avoided her gaze. "Come on Trunks, tell me."

"...I had another dream last night." Bulma's face fell.

"...Oh dear... not another one..." Trunks shrugged and grabbed his Capsule Corp hat, preparing to head out to work as head construction worker in the reconstruction committee for Pepper City. "Shouldn't you stay home today? It doesn't look as if you've slept well. And with that dream about the androids...stay home."

"No Mom. It's alright, I'm fine." Bulma rose from her seat at the table and stood in front of him.

"No you're not. You're awfully pale, and just look at those nasty bags under your eyes!" She began to poke and prod her son, checking for a temperature and what not.

"Mom, I'm...I'm FINE-,"

Knock knock knock.

The two looked at each other, then Bulma strode to the door. "Coming!" Trunks turned away with his arms crossed over his chest. He wanted to go to work today and he was going to. Whether he had to- "What is this? ... Well my word!" Curiosity got the better of him as he turned to the door, wondering what his mother was ooh-ing and aw-ing about. As he drew nearer, he could clearly see a small envelope. It was pink and emitted the smell of fresh roses. Trunks Brief was scrawled clearly across the front of the envelope in maroon colored ink.

Bulma grinned. "Looks like you have an admirer!"

"Give me that." Trunks sneered at his mother and grabbed the envelope. Ignoring his mothers chuckling from behind him, he carefully opened it. He pulled out a small page of longhand written in the same maroon colored ink. He sat down at the table and began to read. Work could wait.

Dear Trunks,

You don't know me, but I know you. I cannot tell you how. Not yet. Not here. Soon, though, you will know who I am, and why I am reaching you in this harboured way.

I know a lot more about you, then you would ever think possible. I know that you have strength beyond normal human conception. I know you were the one to beat the androids. I know that they haunt you in your dreams, and during your normal everyday life. And I know about the dragon balls.

You are most probably wondering how I know all this. All I can tell you, is that I am a lot closer than you think I am. I see you every day, though we haven't breathed a word to each other.

I will contact you soon. When I do decide to show myself to you, you will know it is me. I promise.

Trunks nearly fell out of his chair in shock. His mother started at his white face and round white eyes. His jaw was nearly off it was hanging so low. "Trunks honey? What's wrong?"

"Huh? Oh, uh ... nothing mom." Trunks decided against telling his mother about the note. It would only worry her more.

"Are you sure Trunks?" he tried as hard as possible to keep a straight face. "Well . . . all right. But I still want you to stay home from work today and get some rest." Trunks scowled, but eventually gave in. He was tired, and he knew it. Sighing, he picked up the phone and called in sick. Then he trudged begrudgingly up the stairs and flopped on his bed, not bothering to undress.



Darkness. Silence. A very dangerous and scary combination. Both enveloped him. Trunks spun around, feeling sweat form on his forehead. 'Oh no.' he thought. 'Not again...why can't they just leave me alone...'

Trunks' worst fears were realized as the black backdrop faded away, revealing a completely different scene. The buildings in the city were fully demolished. Hunks of cement and shards of glass covered the ground completely. The sky poured with depressing rain and purple lightning shot across the sky in jagged strips of jolting electricity. There was something very familiar about this scene. Trunks' breath caught in his breath. Tears threatened to burst from his eyes. "Oh no. No. Not this. Beat me, hurt me, whatever you want just please. Please. Don't make me relive this." He begged to the chilled night air and falling to his knees.

His shaking voice echoed off the buildings around him. His eyes moistened and he struggled to gulp them back down. His cries were in vain however, as he saw the body of his friend and master a few feet away to his left. Gohan was motionless, his body broken, his eyes staring blankly back at Trunks.

Trunks' eyes went wide and he choked on his own breath. The pain of it all came flooding back to him again as he stared back at the stiff body of his best friend. "Oh God...Oh God No....Oh Gohan...Oh my God..."

Then the tears came. They flooded his eyes and blurred his vision as he struggled to his feet. His limp wet hair hung over his eyes, but he didn't care. He staggered over to his friend's side. Falling to his knees beside Gohan's corpse, Trunks gently laid his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Oh God...Oh God No....Oh Gohan...Oh my God..."

The tears flowed freely down Trunk's cheeks which were already wet from the rain. They flooded his eyes and blurred his vision as he struggled to his feet. His limp wet hair hung over his eyes, but he didn't care. Trunks gently laid his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Gohan . . . " Trunks's whispered voice was swallowed by a sudden clap of thunder following a flash of lightning. His body wracked with sobs as he hugged the body of his best friend . . . the only friend he had ever known. The grief he had wished to forget overcame him, fogging up his senses. All he could feel was pain . . . and loss.



Trunks gasped and fairly jumped up in his bed. His heart was beating wildly. His eyes were wild with fright and his body was wrapt in a cold sweat. He looked quickly around at his surroundings establishing where he was, then broke out into fits of hysterical tears.

"Gohan. Gohan. Gohan. Gohan." He sobbed, trying to rid himself of the horrible memories. They played over and over in his mind. He curled himself up into a ball and grasped at his hair, trying to push the picture of his dead friend out of his mind.

"Trunks! Honey, what's wrong?" Bulma cried, throwing open the door. She rushed to his side and began stroking his hair that was wet from sweat. Not getting an answer, but realising that he was extremely upset, she sat on the edge of the bed and wrapt her arms around his shaking form. "It's ok. It's ok hun."

"No mom. It's NOT ok." Trunks shouted. "I mean . . . I can't take this anymore. I can't stand being haunted by Gohan's death. I can't stand being haunted by those damn androids!" Trunks clenched his fists, his fury escalating above his grief.

Bulma, shocked at her son's furious outburst, edged away from him a bit. "...I-I don't know what to say..."

As quickly as it had come, Trunks' anger was gone. He turned to his mom with sad, sorrowful eyes. Bulma gasped at the fear and sorrow hidden in their periwinkle depths. "...What do I do mom?" he asked in defeat hoping that by some miracle she would have the answer. "What do I do?"

Bulma searched her vast mind for something to say, all the while still locked in her son's gaze. "I don't know son...I don't know." Trunks slumped back in his bed in despair. He kept his tears in check and slowed his breathing. She studied his form and pondered with a heavy heart. How could two androids bring her child, son of the Prince of Saiyans himself, to a blubbering, crying form on his bed?

Shaking her head, Bulma stood up. "It's 1:00 pm. I have to go to work now. Call me if you need anything..." She said, taking one last glance at Trunks before she left the room. Trunks sighed and rolled over onto his stomach. He clutched his pillow hard, drawing every last bit of comfort that he could from it's softness.



Author's Note: Hey.so what did you think? Please tell me it's good.I haven't been in the writing funk for a while so it took me a long time to write this. Lost a lot of sleep over it.THANK KAMI FOR COFFEE!!!!! Woo hoo!! Score.;) Anyways, please review!!!!!! (