Trunks watched his great-grandson, Vegeta Jr., as he trained. He felt a smile form on his lips as he watched the Vegeta copy trying his best to go Super Saiyan. It reminded him of the determination of his father, and how he was always trying to be stronger than Goku, even though that never really happened.

"I think you still have a while to go before you can transform, Vegeta," Trunks told the small boy.

Vegeta Jr. looked at his great-grandfather, then powered down. "How long do you think it'll be before I can transform?" he asked, sounding like a younger Vegeta.

"I'm not sure. But I think you're getting pretty close. If you train enough, you'll be able to do it soon."

Vegeta Jr. nodded. "How long was it before you turned Super Saiyan, grandpa?"

"I was able to do it when I was about your age."

Vegeta Jr. laughed. "That was a long time ago, wasn't it?"

Trunks simply smiled. "A very long time ago." Many years have passed since then, and many things have happened during that time. Some things were good, some were bad, and some were just strange. The worst thing that happened to him, though, was the day that the Sons and the Briefs had stopped communication with each other. It had started with an argument between him and Goten, and ended with death of a long friendship. Eighty-two years later, Trunks still remembered the whole argument, and regretted it just as much since then.

Vegeta Jr. noticed the look in his great-grandfather's eyes. "What's wrong, Grandpa?" he asked. Trunks looked at him. Despite how much the little boy acted and sounded like Trunks' father, he showed more compassion than the original Vegeta ever could.

"Nothing," Trunks said lamely. "You should get ready for school now." Vegeta Jr. nodded, then ran out of the training room and upstairs. Trunks walked towards the kitchen, and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge. Today is going to be a long day, Trunks thought. Everyone has a place to be but me. So what was there to do today?

Vegeta Jr. ran down the stairs, grabbed a brown paper bag off the table, and ran out the front door, just in time to catch the school bus. Even if the young boy could fly, Trunks and the rest of the family preferred to keep things as confidential as possible.

Trunks looked at the big mansion, which was totally empty, as always. He had been in this mansion ever since he was born, and decided not to move out, because his mother had left it for him in her will anyway, so there was no point to move. Bra, on the other hand, since the mansion wasn't left for her, decided she needed a change and moved out of the mansion as soon as she could.

Polo had also decided to continue staying in the mansion, even after his marriage, because he didn't want to leave his father by himself. Two of Polo's children decided to move out, but his only daughter and her son, Vegeta Jr., lived in the mansion with Polo and Trunks. Vegeta Jr.'s father and mother were divorced, because his father couldn't cope with his mother. So Vegeta Jr.'s mother was at Capsule Corporation, being president, Polo was there as chairman, and Vegeta Jr. was at school. Trunks had the entire mansion to himself, but had no idea what to do.

Trunks sat down on the couch in the living room, placing his hands behind his head. He glanced to the side of the couch, noticing the phone resting on the table. He continued to look at it, his hands resting on either side of his body. Slowly, he took the receiver off the cradle, and his fingers dialed a familiar number. He did it slowly, probably rusty from time, but familiar none the less.

He placed the receiver on his ear, and before he realized what he was doing, the phone on the other end began to ring. He had begun to do what took him eighty-two years to try, but he wasn't sure if he could follow through with it. Before he could hang-up, however, he heard the click of someone picking up the phone on the other end.

"Hello?" Trunks heard a voice say.

"May I please speak to Son Goten?" he asked, wondering if anyone was there besides Goten.

"Speaking." Trunks let out his breath that he didn't realize he was holding. "May I ask who's calling?"

Trunks swallowed. It's now or never. "This is Trunks."

There was silence on the other end. Trunks wasn't sure what to make of it. If they had met in person, he could look at Goten's expression. But on the phone, it was harder to tell.

Trunks then heard Goten clear his throat. "What's up?" Goten asked, though not as nice and cheerful as Trunks could remember it to be.

"Nothing much. Probably wondered why I called, huh?" Trunks had never really planned what to say to Goten if he had finally found the courage to call.

"Thought did cross my mind. Did you want something? Or did you forget to say something those years ago and just realized now and wanted to tell me?"

Trunks could hear the anger in Goten's voice, which was very clear, but there was a bit of sadness, also, as if Goten was afraid he would say something nasty.

"If you're going to be silent through this whole conversation," Goten said coldly, "I might as well hang up now."

"Wait!" Trunks said.

"What?"

"I wouldn't hang up just yet."

"Why not?"

"It took me a long time to build up enough courage to call you, Goten. If you hang up now, I don't think I can find the courage to do it again."

Goten stayed silent. Did that mean that Trunks was scared to call in the first place? He wasn't sure. But he decided to let Trunks talk.

"I just called to…" Trunks swallowed again. He wasn't really used to this. When they argued as little kids, the argument just kind of was forgotten. This was hard, and it kind of hurt his pride at the same time.

"Called to what?" Goten asked.

"To…apologize." Goten almost dropped the phone. Did Trunks actually say that? Did he mean it?

"You were right," Trunks continued. "I never really treated you as a friend. I did force you to do things, make fun of you, and never really taken you seriously. It wasn't nice, and it wasn't right."

Goten wasn't sure what to say. Even if it had taken eighty-two years to say, Trunks was apologizing for what he had done when they were kids. It was kind of hard to believe.

"And you were right, saying that I try to blame others instead of trying to blame myself. I was always looking for a way out without taking the consequences of what I did."

"Well, what I said wasn't entirely true," Goten piped up. "After Marron died, all you did was blame yourself, even if it wasn't your fault."

"Maybe," Trunks said, "but I don't think that counts, because it really wasn't my fault. But it was my fault that you felt the way you did, because I treated you as if you were more of a lackey than a friend, and I'm sorry."

"Well," Goten said, "maybe I should apologize too."

"Why?"

"I never really used to think that until the day that we were training in the woods, and you wanted to fight as a Super Saiyan level two. I did agree to fight with you after all, just like I agreed with all the things that you wanted to do. I guess by agreeing to do all those things with you, you got the impression that I wanted to do all those things too, because I never told you how I really felt about them."

"Maybe, but it still wasn't right of me to force you to do those things. And that's no excuse to make fun of you and never take you seriously."

They were both silent for a moment, then Goten said, "So where do we go from here?"

"It's been a long time, hasn't it? Why don't we meet up again and go somewhere, like old times?"

"Just like that? After not talking for so long, we suddenly meet up again?"

"Well, because we haven't talked for so long, there's a lot to catch up on, and it would be better to do it in person."

"I guess. That would be cool."

"How about tomorrow?"

"Kinda soon, huh?"

"Why not? I got nothing better to do tomorrow."

"What about today?"

Trunks laughed. "Oh, and you're not thinking too soon? I have to be somewhere later, so I can't."

"I guess tomorrow is okay."

"Fine. What time?"

"9:00, maybe? I'll go over to your place and meet you there?"

"That's cool with me."

"Okay, then. See ya tomorrow, I guess."

"Yeah, see ya tomorrow, Goten."

Goten finished his breakfast and proceeded in washing the plate. After drying them off, he looked at his watch and noticed that he had only half an hour until he needed to meet Trunks. After all this time, we finally get to see each other again. It had taken a while, but Goten felt things were going to be alright now. Goten played with the chain and locket around his neck. And I can finally give this back to Trunks, he thought.

Goten walked to the front door, but noticed that the answering machine light was glowing. He pressed the button to hear the message.

"Hey Goten," the voice on the machine said, "this is Trunks. I know we were supposed to meet this morning, but it seems I can't make it."

Goten heard a loud, and somewhat painful, cough on the other end. Was that really Trunks?

"Sorry about that," the voice said. "Anyway, I can't make it because I'm in the hospital. I…uh…collapsed this morning, and they rushed me here." Trunks mumbled something that Goten couldn't make out. "So listen, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to take a rain check, because the doctors won't let me out. Maybe some other time, huh?"

There was a click, and the tape for the machine stopped rolling. The hospital? Goten wondered. Why is Trunks in the hospital? He knew there was only one way to find out. After locking up the door (even though he knew probably no one steal anything from his house anyway), he took off towards the direction of Western Capitol City.

Goten found his way through the familiar hospital. It was the same place that Marron had died in, but he had to ask where Trunks' room was. After searching for a while, he came across the room that the receptionist had given him. He opened the door and walked in.

Goten looked around. As he walked in, he noticed Trunks lying on the bed. He saw that Trunks looked pretty much the same as he had eighty-two years ago, except his face seemed a little more mature, with some wrinkles here and there. His hair was a whitish-lavender color, but still parted down the middle. Two strands were dangling in front of his face, as always.

Suddenly, he sneezed. Trunks opened one eye, and upon seeing Goten, opened the other. Goten still looked the same, with slight wrinkles across his face. His black hair still stood on end, tilting to the side a bit, as it had before.

"Hey," Trunks said, rather weakly.

"Hi," Goten said. "What's up?"

"Nothing much. Besides being here, anyway."

"Why are you here, Trunks? What happened?"

"I told you, I collapsed. You got my message, didn't you?"

"Of course I did, Trunks. That's why I'm here. But how? What happened to you?"

Trunks sighed, and sat up. He looked down at his hands. "You know how Mom used to smoke, right?"

"Yeah. She smoked a lot, didn't she?"

"Yup. She smoked at home and at work. I was around with her constantly. Eventually, she died because of all the smoke. Her lungs gave in. But later they found out that I was having problems too. I was having difficult time breathing, and the training I did just put some strain on it. We didn't realize it until some time later, I think after dad died, that I was having problems with my lungs, too."

"But how?" Goten questioned.

"Since I was around Mom, I inhaled a lot of smoke from her cigarettes. Dad didn't have that problem, because he was training a lot, and he wasn't subjected to the smoke all his life like I was. Bra has some of the same problems that I do, but not as much because she never had to go to work with Mom."

"So what now?"

Trunks looked at Goten. "I have to tell you. The reason I finally was able to call you was because I knew I had to set everything right before…"

"Before what, Trunks?" Goten asked, unsure he wanted to hear the answer.

Trunks looked down at his hands again. "My dad used to tell me that everyone can sense when their time is near…" he said.

"Don't say that Trunks."

"I felt that my time was close, so I knew I had to call you and apologize before I leave. I just didn't realize how close it was."

Goten shook his head. "Trunks, don't. You can't be…"

"I know I am Goten. And I'm sorry, but there's no helping it."

"But this is unfair!" Goten cried, tears begin to flow down his cheeks. "After all these years, we finally become friends again, and then this happens."

"I know it's not fair, Goten, but there's really nothing we can do about it. I'm sure we'll be able to keep our bodies when we die, just like you dad did when he died, and we'll have all eternity to be friends."

Goten nodded, wiping the tears with the back of his hands. "It's still not fair, though," he mumbled.

Trunks nodded. "I know. But what can we do?"

Goten looked down at the floor, then looked for the clasp for the chain around his neck. He unhooked the chain, and presented the gold locket to Trunks.

"What's this?" Trunks asked, taking it from Goten.

"It's yours, actually," Goten said, rubbing the back of his head. "I found it after you left the day of our argument, and it was broken. I got it fixed, but I never found the courage to face you, so I kept it until now."

Trunks smiled, fingering the words on the locket. "Thanks Goten," he said, putting on the locket. Goten smiled too. He felt a lot better now that he had given the locket back to Trunks.

Suddenly, Trunks brought his hand to his chest, bending over in what seemed like pain. He cried out, causing Goten to jump back a bit.

"What's wrong?" Goten asked, beginning to panic.

Trunks wiped the sweat off his forehead, but more kept coming. "I forgot to tell you something," Trunks said, forcing the words through the pain, "that unlike Mom, who had died because of her lungs, my problem is more with my heart."

Goten watched as his best friend writhed in agony, clutching his heart. He could only watch as his best friend tried to fight the pain, but was unsuccessful.

TBC