"Pan!" Bulma demanded, marching into the kitchen in those ridiculous and seemingly pointless clacky high heels of hers, wearing a floral, thin strapped summer dress made for a woman who was obviously meant to be much younger than her. "I won't have you sitting around inside on such a beautiful day! Why don't you go out?"

"How?" I mumbled bitterly from a stool, propping my head up with one hand, elbow on the kitchen counter. "I have no where to go, no one to go with and no way to get there anyway."

"Well," She said thoughtfully. "Why don't you get changed into something nice, go next door to the Carter's place and ask their son if he wants to go down to the beach with you for a while? I'm sure his mother wouldn't mind taking you. I would myself if I could but well...you know how things are with work."

No I don't know because I don't have a stupid job. And I'd rather wear a dress than go anywhere with Mason. I thought angrily to myself, unable to believe Bulma would even consider such a possibility. In fact, I was unable to believe that she would demand I leave the house when I was clearly quiet content with simply sitting at the kitchen counter and staring into space.

"No, I'd rather not." Was the only reply I could come up with. Despite the fact that she'd been rude to me (or at least I thought so in my opinion), I still wanted to at least try and be polite whilst I was a guest in her household.

"Well then..." Bulma thought carefully, teal brows furrowed in concentration. "I know, why don't I give you some money and a shopping list, and send you down to the grocery store on the bus?"

She had me there. Before I had left home for the summer, Videl had taken me through what she liked to call 'House Rules'. I was to always be polite while at the Briefs residence, and to do as many chores as possible for them, as they were kind enough to make room for me in their home. Although I couldn't see why these rules should be of any importance, especially since they obviously didn't have to strain to make room for me during the summer. But even so, I myself even thought it was rude to refuse to help her out when I clearly wasn't doing anything of importance myself.

"Alright." I shrugged, dropping from the school and dusting breadcrumbs off my attire of old, worn jeans with cuts in the knee and my navy blue shirt.

"I won't have my house guest sitting around and doing nothing on such a beautiful day." Bulma beamed brightly. Too brightly for my liking. "Have a good time."

"How can you have a good time grocery shopping?" I muttered under my breath once I was out the front door and trudging down to the bus stop with my hands in the pockets of my jeans, my worn sneakers scuffing the pavement.

As I was once again absorbed within my own mind, I hardly noticed that I'd walked straight past the bus stop. It only occurred to me when I accidentally banged into a solid object and fell backwards with a thud, cursing to myself as I struggled to scramble back onto my feet.

"Watch it!" A voice exclaimed as a hot and clammy hand stretched out to pull me to my feet. I allowed its owner to help me up, forcing me to meet with a pair of large, hazy brown eyes that were oddly familiar...

"Mason!" I shouted, wrenching my hand away and gawking at him in astoundment. "Holy shit....what are you doing here?"

"Well, I do live here." He joked lamely, running fingers through his messy, oily red hair. "What's your excuse?"

"I'm....staying with a friend." I mumbled, turning on my heel to march away from him. The last thing I needed was to have Mason on my heels throughout the summer holidays.

"Who?" He asked.

"A family friend." I retorted.

"Ah, the Briefs family!" He concluded triumphantly. "My parents told me that some kid was going to be staying with them for a while. I didn't know it would be you."

I was about to ask how his parents had come to know about the personal life of the Briefs family, before I remembered that Trunks had told me that the rich families in Capsule City were interrelated. This struck me as odd. I had never thought someone as primitive as Mason could be rich. Obviously, money couldn't buy him the good looks he so desperately craved.

"So where are you going?" He questioned, struggling to keep up with my firm and even pace as I hurried to escape him.

"Away from you." I shot back with a darkened glance.

"Are you going out?" He continued, choosing to ignore the death threats I was shooting at him. "To a party or something? Ooooh, can I come? I looove parties, especially ones that involve you."

"Piss off, Mason." I said through clenched teeth. "Do you want me to loose my patients with you again like on the last day of school? You don't really want to end up in a public trash can now, do you?"

"I wouldn't mind." He shrugged. "It's a small price to pay for your company."

"Look, let's get one thing straight, ok?" I demanded, slowing and whirling around to face him. "Those corny pickup lines may work on other girls, but they'll never work on me. So why don't you just piss off and try them on someone else?"

"Corny pickup lines?" Mason chortled, raising one busy eyebrow quizzically. "Oh, I haven't even begun to use them yet. Just you wait, Panny Pan, I've got loads I've saved up especially for you."

Shaking my head in dismay, and seeing now that there simply was no way I could berid myself of him, I continued to head back towards the bus stop. It became clear that Mason didn't have anything else worthwhile to do with his time than follow me (That or he had been waiting for me on the curb, somehow knowing I was going to wonder there in a daze of clouded emotions, which I strongly doubted), because he stood beside me at the bus stop, and then boarded the bus with me, all the while reciting the most irritating phrases.

"Do you have a Bandaid? Cos I just scraped my knee falling for you."

"Do you have a map? Cos Honey, I just keep gettin lost in your eyes."

"Hey baby, you must be a light switch, coz every time I see you, you turn me on!"

"Alright, that's it." I steamed as I followed Mason off the bus at the stop he'd told me was closest to the grocery store.

"Aw c'mon, I've got loads more." He smirked, causing me to it him irritably on the shoulder. "You're no fun, Panny Pan."

"Not the kind of fun you want to get out of me." I shot back. "And would you quit calling me 'Panny Pan'? It's seriously getting on my nerves!"

"What's so wrong with Panny Pan? I think it suits you." He grinned malevolently. "Hey, where's your friend? You know....the dark one? Always mourning for our generation?"

"Zara? Oh, she's feeling a bit sick." I replied, perhaps with a hint of bitterness to my voice that I hardly understood myself. "Love sick."

"Zara has a crush! Zara has a crush!" He exclaimed in a singsong voice. "She doesn't sound like the sort to fall for a guy...must be pretty good looking. Who is he anyway?"

"Trunks Briefs." I murmured distastefully.

"Well, that explains it." Mason said with an exaggerated sigh. "That guy has been in the fantasies of just about every decent girl in this area for as long as I can remember. With guys as good looking as him running around, it's almost impossible for hunks like me to find a date."

"So are you saying that I'm not a decent girl?" I said with a playful smirk. "Because I don't swoon every time I run into Trunks Briefs?"

"Pretty much. Let's face it, Panny Pan, you sure aren't what they'd call a 'decent girl'. But I think that's why guys like me find you so irresistible. People like Trunks and I get tired of girls swooning over us all the time, so we like it when we meet a girl who can give us a bit of a break from it."

As he obviously knew Capsule City ten times better than I did, he found it much easier to navigate his way around. He helped me to find everything on Bulma's list, and purchase it with the money she'd given me, all the while managing to uphold some sort of conversation. It was hard for me to believe that this was Mason Carter, a person I had always considered my enemy, who was now helping me to buy groceries as if we were a young couple. Part of me was disgusted with myself, and with him. But the other part – the more humane part – actually had to admit that I was enjoying myself in his company.

It wasn't until we got off the bus in the street just down the road from our houses (Well, his house and my temporary location), that things started to go wrong.

"You know, this morning was actually kind of fun." Mason mused as we reached the end of our street. "Well, as fun as grocery shopping can be."

"Yeah. I guess." I had to admit, no longer able to deny that I had enjoyed Mason's company. It was, after all, better than wondering the streets of an almost completely unknown city alone.

"We should do it again sometime." He continued.

"Mmm...." I mumbled, turning my attentions to the toes of my scruffy trainers, scrapping along the pavement.

"Why don't we hang out tomorrow?" He questioned as we paused out the front of Capsule corp.

"I don't have to go grocery shopping tomorrow." I reasoned.

"Nah, I didn't mean grocery shopping." He snarled, mementos of his former self flickering through the surface of his brown eyes. "I mean I want you to go out with me, Panny Pan."

All at once, I felt myself come falling back into reality with a terrifying crash. This was Mason Carter, the boy who had been chasing around the school after me since high school began. The one person I had hated ever since grade seven, and therefore the one person I was bound to loathe for the rest of my life. How could I think he'd changed into a decent enough person to consider my friend in the course of the summer holidays thus far? He may pretend to befriend me, but really underneath he was still the same, disgusting character he always was. Not only that, but when he said those few dreaded words, pictures of Trunks somehow flashed into my mind for reasons I did not yet understand. Perhaps my next decision was the result of what I feared his reaction would be if I dated another, along with my own dislike for Mason himself. But....Trunks didn't like me in that way....and I didn't like him in that way either. So obviously, my thoughts on Trunks at the same time as this news was nothing more than a mere coincidence.

"You know, you almost had me convinced that you had changed." I scathed. "But obviously, you're still the same asshole you've always been."

"So....was that no or yes?" He smirked idiotically. In amongst my building towers of rage, I was able to spare a moment to pity him, unable to believe that anyone could be that stupid.

"Hell no!" I shouted, glaring at him angrily, my dark eyes flashing like the deepest pits of hell itself. "Now, let's get one thing straight, ok? I don't like you, I'll never like you, and I don't want to see you again. Keep the hell away from me, Mason, or it will be at your expense."

I turned on my heel and stormed into the large, looming modern mansion in front of me that I still had trouble coming to terms with as my current house. I did not look back until I was inside the front foyer, and then stole a glance out the window to see him standing on the pavement in purest shock, as if he still couldn't understand what just happened, or what went wrong. This was mixed in with a sensation of ultimate depression, which was evident in his gaze as he trudged away from Capsule corp. gloomily.

I sighed. Perhaps I had been a little too hard on him, but it was his own fault for being the way he was. Videl had always told me that people were people, and that it was impossible to change them, so we just had to accept them for who they were. But I could never accept Mason. I didn't know why, really, because he hadn't done anything to harm me. He just liked me. I didn't fully understand my dislike until I arrived back in the kitchen, and images of Trunks came flashing into my mind.

There was a note from Bulma resting on the counter. I dumped her stupid plastic shopping bags on the floor with aggravation, and then crossed the room to read it.

Dear Pan,

I wasn't planning on going into work until this afternoon, but something of dire importance has come up and I just couldn't leave my colleagues to solve the issue on my own. I hope you'll understand. Feel free to explore and use any facilities of the house, and I promise to be back as soon as I can.

Love,

Bulma

PS: There's some leftovers in the fringe if you get hungry. Ask Vegeta if you need anything else. No doubt he's training in his Gravity Room.

I scrunched up the note and tossed it into the trash irritably. Although both my parents had insisted on me upholding good manners while at the Brief's residence, I couldn't help but feel that Bulma was being rude to me. What sort of hostess leaves their guest stranded in a house they hardly knew, without any real purpose or anything to do? She hadn't even left me a good excuse as to why she had to leave! I couldn't help but wonder what was the 'issue of dire importance' that had caused Bulma to leave the house so suddenly.

Miraculously, finding my way back to my bedroom proved easier than expected. I scowled at the pink walls, carpet, bedspread and the curtains at the large window, crossing the room to the window and wrenching it open, allowing the cool summer breeze to waft about my bedroom, filling it with the scent of the heated weather.

"Stupid pink." I said aloud, kicking off my trainers so that they flew across the room and smacked into the side of the giant, king sized bed. With nothing better to do, I crossed the room and turned on my computer, searching the internet for nothing in particular until I noticed the white sheet of paper next to the phone beside me on the computer desk, with Bulma's work number printed across it neatly, and Trunks' just beneath it.

I stared at the piece of paper blankly, wondering why on earth Bulma had thought it necessary to give me Trunks' work number as well as her own. I supposed, then, that it was simply because she thought that, if I was to suffer a crisis and was unable to reach her, then I could always call Trunks. Though I strongly doubted that anything horribly gruesome or terrible could happen in this pink hellhole. Whatever her reason may be, I now was in possession of Trunks Brief's work number, and I was bored.

Why don't I just call him up? I thought to myself. See what he's doing. He doesn't seem to like that job of his much, so maybe by calling him, I might give him a reason for getting out of work for a while to talk to me. I wonder what he does for Bulma's company anyway...maybe I should call and ask. No...I can't do that. I shouldn't interrupt him from work. But he doesn't like his job...so in a way, I'll be doing him a favour. Hell, why not? He's probably bored, I'm definitely bored, and neither of us have anything better to do than talk to each other. Bulma wouldn't give me his number if she didn't intend for me to use it...

As my mind had been trying to conjure up as many reasons for me to call him as possible, my fingers had automatically sprung to the phone and dialled the number on the white sheet of paper, while my other hand held the receiver to my left ear. I leant back in the chair, swinging on the back legs and waited for it to be answered.

"Capsule Corporation, Trunks Brief's office, Amanda speaking."

I let out a cry of surprise, toppling off my chair with a loud thud when I heard the voice on the other end of the phone. It wasn't the soft, deep voice I knew so well, but the high pitched voice of a woman. So Trunks had a girlfriend...and she'd been visiting him in his office. Why else would a girl answer his phone? Suddenly, I was overcome with a sense of purest loathing and dislike, as well as a sinking sensation deep in the pit of my stomach, causing my heart to rise into my throat.

"Um....hello? Are you ok?" The voice cackled over the other end of the phone. It was then that I remembered that I still had the receiver pressed against my ear.

"Yeah, I'm good." I managed to choke out from my place on the floor. "Who are you?"

"I-I'm Amanda, Trunks Brief's secretary at Capsule Corporation. Who are you?" She questioned in reply.

I felt my heart slip back into my chest, and the sinking feeling rose from my stomach. Of course! I had been so stupid! Trunks didn't have a girlfriend, he'd told me so long ago, anyway. It was only his secretary. At the sudden realization, I felt my cheeks flame red with embarrassment and shame at my idiocy, wondering why the possibility of Trunks seeing another woman had upset me even more than the possibility of myself dating another guy.

"I-I'm Pan Son." I began embarrassedly, still making no effort to get up from my place on the floor. The pink carpet was unbelievably soft.

"Oh yes! Trunks has told me all about you!" She exclaimed. "In fact, he's talked about nothing else since you arrived."

"Really?" I queried interestedly, feeling my heart rise up into my throat again.

"Yes, he seems to like you a lot." She chirped. "I'll just pop him on for you, then."

I was about to tell her not to worry, suddenly afraid that he may be busy, when the call was transferred to Trunks' line.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's Pan." I spoke clearly into the receiver upon hearing the sound of his soft, calm voice.

"Yeah, I know. What's wrong, Pan?" He said in a voice filled with concern.

"N-Nothing." I stammered awkwardly. "It's just...well....I found your number and....can I come up and visit you?"

The last fragment of the sentence came out hurriedly, my speech slurred. After I blurted it out, I immediately wished I hadn't, as his silence on the opposite end of the phone was highly unnerving. I took comfort in the breeze wafting in from the open window, and erasing the stench of my sweat, pink curtains flapping in the breeze.

"I don't see why not." He finally said. "I'm not really doing much." He lowered his voice abruptly to a whisper. "Actually, I'm really bored. So it would be great if you came up. Do you think you could find your way?"

"I'll figure it out if you give me directions." I said brightly, glad that he'd accepted my proposal.

He gave me the directions, and then hung up, leaving me with the promise of seeing him soon. My stomach bubbled with excitement. People were rarely invited to pay visit to Capsule corp., unless they were of great importance in the business scheme of things. Even when I came to visit with my parents as a child, I don't think that I was ever aloud out of the Brief's house and into the heart of Capsule corp., as much as it irritated me. The technology and excitement of it all enchanted me, and the idea of witnessing it all with Trunks Briefs wasn't an unpleasant thought either.

I scrambled up off the floor, replacing the receiver. I stared at the phone for a moment, wondering if I should call Zara and ask her if she'd like to come as well. Of course she'd like to come. She'd take any excuse to get away from her family for a while. Plus, she thinks Trunks is hot. That thought alone sent the impending sense of an emotion I could not name shooting down my spine. Actually, she probably already has other plans, since it's so late in the day. And Trunks didn't invite her, so he might be a bit shocked if I brought her up to his office with me.

I exited the room swiftly, all thoughts of Zara Black evaporating from my mind.

(o)

It was harder to find my way to Trunks' office than I had thought. It was located in the heart of the building, well away from the usual laboratories and other practical work stations, but much closer to the meeting rooms, coffee lounges, and other parts of the theoretical production of the invention that made the Briefs family a success. I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed, as the route to Trunks' office didn't pass any of the labs, thus enabling me to see the side of the production I wanted to know about. Now I could see why Trunks may find his job so terrible.

The office could be summed up in six words: large, square, modern, boring and beige. Amanda – the secretary I had spoken to over the phone – sat in the waiting room just outside his office door, at a chestnut wooden desk in front of the large symbol posted behind her on the wall that I recognized as the Capsule corp. logo. She directed me in without hesitation, not needing to ask for my identity. At first, I wondered if this was because Trunks had talked about me enough to give her a description of me. But I soon reminded myself that I was probably the only sixteen year old child she was expecting that day.

Trunks was sitting at his desk, typing frantically on his computer, wisps of lavender hair cascading down the sides of his smooth, pale face. The pinstriped brown suit he wore looked as if it didn't quite fit him correctly, and was loose even against the fine muscles of his chest. There were large bags under his sky blue eyes, which were hidden beneath his reading glasses, giving him an appearance of someone ill-at-ease in what he was doing, despite the fact that his lavender brows were furrowed in concentration as he peered at his computer screen. I noticed later that he was constantly adjusting his tie.

"Hey." He smiled when he heard his office door creak open, and looked up to meet my eyes. I couldn't help but notice that his expression had perked up the instant he saw me approach.

"Hey." I muttered, shifting uncomfortably from side to side. I felt dirty and disgruntled against him and his lavish office setting, as if I was not fit to be standing on the blood red carpet in his presence. It was hard to believe that this was the Trunks who had made pancakes for me in his boxers and vest only a few nights ago.

"Sit down." He gestured to the stiff armchair opposite his chestnut wood desk. I dropped into it warily, discovering that although it was expensive, it obviously wasn't the most comfortable chair ever invented.

Trunks took a long sip of coffee from the mug beside his telephone, then turned his attentions back to his computer without casting me a second glance. The room was silent and still except for the sounds of his hurried typing, and everything – from the leather bound books towering to the tops of the walls, arranged alphabetically and aligned on bookshelves that surrounded each space of wall within the room, to the singular, artificial pot plant in the corner – was stiff, chestnut, and matching. No variety. No colour. No nothing. Nothing but silence.

"What are you doing?" I asked, in attempt to brake the anxious silence between us.

"Writing up a report to present to the board tomorrow." Trunks uttered, without looking up. He finished typing the sentence, removed his reading glasses, and set them aside with a sigh, finally bringing his attentions back to me. "Sorry. It must be really boring for you."

"It must be worse for you." I replied. "How can you do this everyday?"

"That's the question I have to ask myself every morning." He smiled. "It's the question that causes me to loose so much sleep every night."

At the time, I didn't quite understand what he meant, and conveyed it through my odd expression. He only smiled broadly in reply, then reached over to turn off his computer.

"I can finish this later." He said with a shrug. "Why don't we go and get something to eat?"

"What about work?" I asked, worried that his lunch with me (as tempting as it sounded) might cost him his job.

"Who cares about work?" He said, perhaps sounding a little angry. "It's just a quick lunch, and then I'll come straight back. I promise, ok? Please don't start to turn out to be as persistent about my career as my mother is."

"Don't worry. I don't plan to turn into Bulma." I said through a laugh. "Fine. Let's go, then."

(o)

I couldn't deny that I enjoyed lunch with him. We left as quickly as possible, breezing through his office and out into the waiting room where Amanda sat, reading the weekly paper.

"I'm just going out for a bit, Amanda." Trunks called over his shoulder as we made our way to the elevator at the end of the room, that would eventually take us to the ground floor. "I'm taking Pan out for lunch."

I'm taking Pan out for lunch. It sounded indifferent, yet familiar, in a way. It struck me then that Trunks was really going to take me out. Not Zara, or any of the other girls that wanted to be in my position. But me, Pan Son, the tomboyish sixteen year old high school student and family friend whom he used to baby-sit.

We ate lunch together in a café in the heart of Capsule City, sitting together at a table positioned out on the street and opened to the public. Passers by would stare at us, Trunks in his brown pinstriped suit and I in my ripped jeans and navy shirt with a bandana tied round my head. We must have looked completely different, not only in age, but in style. But they couldn't see the deeper 't hear all the conversations we shared about the past...the things we used to do together when I was still a child, and he was my teenage baby-sitter.

I couldn't help feeling awful when lunch ended, and waiter came to collect our bill. Trunks looked so much better when he was out in the sunlight and away from work. The bags under his eyes had completely disappeared, his clothes fit him better, and the colour had returned to his skin. I could tell that he was disappointed at the prospect of returning to his office too.

My emotions must have shown in my expression, because he smiled sadly, getting up from the table in one, soft movement.

"Hey," He smiled softly, almost sadly. "I want to show you something."

I forgot that he was meant to return to work, and let him lead me down the streets of Capsule City, hand in hand. Anyone who passed us would think we were related, or even (dare I even think it) a couple. Anyone from school who saw me then would have trouble recognizing me as the same Pan Son they had known for so long. Hell, I had trouble recognizing me!

Trunks led me down streets that were familiar, and yet weren't until we came to a park. It's vast and empty fields of green grass, the tall oak trees with large, swinging branches and rustling leaves, the tiny playground, brightly coloured and shimmering in the afternoon sunlight spoke of a memory once lost, but now retrieved again.

"I used to take you here when Gohan and Videl brought you over and I baby-sat." He explained, keeping his eyes on the swing set in the playground. I watched the childish excitement dance in his eyes, reminding me of the way Elijah's eyes would shine when I told him I'd let him spar me. He pointed to the swing set. "I used to push you on that swing. The red one, because you didn't like any other colour."

He began to walk towards the playground, and I followed him quietly, struggling to keep up with his swift pace.

"You were a weird kid, Pan." He continued. "I remember...you used to run in between those trees in your little training outfit identical to Goku's. You had really short, black hair, that blew in the wind when you ran...and really rosy, chubby cheeks. You had dimples when you smiled...you still do."

I had to smile, then, and he smiled in return, nearing a park bench and sitting down on it slowly. I sat myself beside him, listening to his recounts of lost memories.

"You asked me to marry you once." He smirked at the expression on my face. "You didn't know what it was, then. And you only wanted to get married because of the pretty white dresses."

"I never want to get married." I protested.

"Why not?"

"It sounds so...girly."

He laughed his beautiful, sunny laugh. I loved that 't get enough of it...wanted to hear it again and again.

"No, I don't want to be tied down by love and become weak, like my mum." I spoke the truth.

"Videl didn't get weak because she married your dad, Pan. She chose that way of life when she had you, she wasn't turned soft my love. If anything, love makes you stronger. Just look at my dad. He wouldn't even be a Super Sayian if it wasn't for my mum."

"Really?" I asked with interest. I knew that Bulma and Vegeta were long since married, but I hadn't actually pictured them as a couple up until that point. They didn't sound like the pair of people who would be able to settle down, let alone endure each other.

"Of course, he'd never admit it. But I think my mum was what gave him strength when he was training to be Super Sayian. It wasn't just about his pride, or his desire to beat Goku, it was about impressing her so that she'd think he was worthy of her. Something like that, anyway..." Trunks shrugged. "I don't know. My dad's one strange guy."

"I can tell." I said through a laugh.

"Say," Trunks said suddenly, and I could see that his cheeks had grown a pink tinge, and not just because of the hot summer weather. "Why don't I push you on the swing? You know....like how we used to."

I nodded, slightly baffled by this sudden decision of his. But nevertheless I let him lead me to the red swing and sat down on it carefully, pushing off the ground with both feet. I felt him move behind me, hands on my back when I came back down, only causing me to swing higher. I felt the cool, summer breeze tickle my skin as a swang, higher...higher...higher.

For a while, it felt as if all my problems had been carried away with the breeze. But like a swing, everything that goes up, eventually must come down again. The relaxation between Trunks and I...the carefree attitude we both had...reminded me that my three year old cousin was sitting in a hospital bed somewhere, awaiting his incurable fate. Soon he would be dead...and there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do to stop it.

"What's wrong?" Trunks asked, noticing my expression. He had stopped pushing the swing.

"Just thinking." I muttered, letting the swing slow. All of a sudden, I was claimed by a rush of emotions, and heard myself telling him everything...feelings I hadn't even been able to put into thoughts until now.

"He's going to die. Slow and painfully....all alone, in that hospital, surrounded by illness and disease. He doesn't even understand why...maybe he doesn't even know what's wrong with him...or why he's been taken out of his home and put in hospital...away from me...away from everything he loves, and everything he holds sacred. I don't want him to die like that...so cold and empty. What's so awful about it is that I can't do a damn thing to stop it!"

I went from angry, to sad, to angry, to depressed, to confused, and then to angry again in a matter of seconds. Trunks stood behind me, waiting for the swing to slow and listening to me intently, without saying a word. I swore, I shouted, and I almost let myself cry. But he didn't care. He just stood there, taking all my abuse with good nature, and waited until I was done.

I was thankful for his silence, because it meant that I didn't have to face any questions. But I was also thankful for his presence, as he walked beside me on the journey back to Capsule corp. There was just something about him being there that helped me, somehow, and in a way I didn't understand...

It wasn't until later that night, when I was back in my pink prison and curled up in a ball inside the closet, recalling the events of the day, that I realized that without meaning to, I, Pan Son, had sunk low enough to become attracted to a member of the opposite sex.

(o)

A/N: Note that she doesn't love him at this point. It's kind of mixed feelings, because she doesn't really understand love, just so you know.