Doomed to Failure
episode four ---her name is Son Pan---
(Rating: T)
Trunks was already bossing her around. He had turned around and walked up to the time machine to switch it back to capsule form. Had he no brains at all? Sure, she couldn't blame him. Every piece of equipment had a button to contain it back into a hoi-poi but this one had been busted for well over a year now. It was a hassle, but she'd learned to deal with it.
This was her time machine. He had no business tinkering with it as if he owned the damned thing!
"You can't," she suggested. "The button's been broken for a long time."
The sight of the lavender haired man holding Bikini in one arm made her stomach twist into knots. The sight alone was horribly wrong. It was wrong!
She walked up to him, entered the time machine and took out the journal. She never left it out of her sight, except on rare occasions when she'd lost her mind. She rolled her eyes to her own stupidity over almost forgetting it. Had she been more careful none of this would have happened in the first place. She had only herself to blame.
Trunks covered the time machine with some loose branches and leaves and she watched how Bikini helped him out by moving twigs and only a few leaves at the time. It would have been adorable, had it been their Trunks she was helping out. She narrowed her dark eyes.
"Bikini-chan," she called. Her daughter turned. In that instant, it seemed Bikini had forgiven her mother completely for anything that had happened before all this and the girl smiled with glee. "Bikini-chan," the woman urged, "come here."
The girl glanced at whom she thought was her father, then looked at her mother again. She giggled, and reached out for Trunks' hand, who accepted her gesture hesitantly.
The woman was fuming on the inside and folded her arms, pressing the book tightly against her chest. If she hadn't any reserve left in her, she would've growled.
Trunks had to adapt every move he made to the pace of a small child and he reached inside his jacket to grab his capsule case. He tried to let go of the girl's grip but she looked up to him with a puzzled face and pouted.
"I just want to—" he started to say.
He eyed the woman standing next to him who's smug grin stated she didn't seem so intent on helping him out. He glanced at the little girl again and decided to open his case and pick a capsule with one hand instead. It wasn't like he had much of a choice right now.
He picked a number 5 capsule, activated it and tossed it to the ground. With a small explosion, the hoi-poi turned into a small airship.
"What's that?" Bikini asked innocently.
Trunks smiled but didn't look at her. "Your ride home," he said. He only realized the convolution of his answer after he'd said it and he seriously wanted to slap himself.
The girl in turn jumped up and down. "Yosh' yosh'!" she cheered.
The woman closed her eyes. Seriously, had her Trunks ever been this stupid?
Kami forbid, how was she ever going to explain to her daughter that they weren't exactly going home, that this Trunks wasn't her father and—she snorted. That Trunks would have to tell her. She was done with devastating her daughter, she had said so herself.
Damn that moron.
Without saying anything, she entered the airship and tried to ignore her daughter's bliss.
The ride home was a quiet one. Bikini crawled in Trunks' lap and fell asleep not long after.
Pan could read how uncomfortable he felt. She didn't really care. He had ruined everything.
Well, she had ruined everything herself. It's just that Trunks had caught her tripping and had taken advantage of the situation. Like her Trunks, this one was no moron either.
She looked outside but saw only her own face reflected in the window. Outside was dark, and it might as well have been past midnight before Capsule Corporation came in sight.
She studied her own face, counting the lines, the years she might have left to puzzle this ridiculous episode in her life. What had the Fates in store for her? She wasn't sure she wanted to know. She was knocked out of her focus when Trunks nudged her shoulder lightly and she noticed they had already landed.
She exited, glimpsed at Trunks who held her daughter in both arms. The way he held her reminded her of the first time her Trunks had held Bikini. He had been so afraid of dropping her, or otherwise hurting her—but the memories were too painful.
A woman exited the massive building and rushed over to where they stood. There was no doubt in Pan's mind that this was Bulma. Her hair was longer and she looked less troubled than the woman she'd known but her eyes were the same, as was the sound of her voice.
"Trunks!"
"…"
"… …"
Bulma almost bumped her head against the lower bodywork of the vehicle she was working underneath when a buzz was heard. She moved from under the van and sat up.
She knew that buzz! It was the security system being shut down from the outside. This could mean but one thing: Trunks had finally returned!
She wiped her hands on her overall, let go of the equipment she was holding and hurried to the other side of the Capsule Corp. dome.
As she ran to the main hall, she noticed the entire south end of the mansion was illuminated by top lights from either an airplane or a helicopter. What was going on?
She opened the door, shielding her eyes from the blinding light.
Producing a small storm, the airship landed in the centre of the backyard and Bulma could see Trunks exiting as the light died down. The light the garden lanterns produced was enough for the woman to see Trunks was carrying something.
Or was it someone?
She walked closer and now she noticed. Trunks was holding a small girl!
"Trunks!" she called.
Although the sight alone triggered Bulma to rush over immediately she was held back at the sight of someone else, a dark-haired figure who exited the aircraft in Trunks' shadow.
What in the name of Kami?
She was wearing a Son gi, there was no doubt about that. But the person was a woman, a young woman, no older than Trunks. The blue-eyed woman took a few hesitant steps closer, to notice the girl sleeping in Trunks' arms. She gasped, and the child opened her eyes.
Shock hit her in the face upon the sight of that little girl for she was the spitting image of herself, save for her hair, which was as lavender as Trunks'.
"Baachan!"
Bulma jumped.
What was going on here!
She was at a loss for words and she looked up to her son, looking for answers. His face was solemn, sad almost.
Baachan. Grandma. Grandmother. Eh—
What did this mean?
Trunks ushered his mother back inside.
"I could use some coffee," her son said. That was strange. Trunks never drank any coffee. Something must've spooked him, and spooked him bad.
Had it been funny, she would've giggled over her stupidity. Of course he was spooked!
Hell, who were these strangers and why did she have the feeling either of them had more of a relation with Trunks than the uncomfortable distance the grown woman and her son kept, let on.
Bulma tarried at the entrance of her house. She turned, glanced at the child in her son's arms and her eyes trailed up to Trunks.
"At least introduce us," she demanded.
Trunks took a step back and turned slightly, to rest his eyes on the woman who had hesitantly followed him back to the house.
"Mother," he spoke in a grave voice, "meet Son Pan and her daughter, Bikini."
Too much information! Bulma stared. Son Pan? Son Pan—?
Trunks freed one hand to push his mother back inside with a little more force. It was cold outside and he didn't want to grant the woman – he corrected himself – he didn't want to grant Pan another opportunity to leave. He wanted her inside first and foremost.
Bulma peered beyond Trunks to look at the tentative woman on the lawn.
"You're a Son?"
Timidly, the woman nodded in reply to Bulma's question.
"Well then," the blue-haired woman said in response. "Do come in, make yourselves at home!" She smiled, carefully took the little girl from Trunks' arms and walked over to the woman to greet her properly.
"I hope Trunks was civil to you," she murmured to the woman jokingly. "He can be such a badger sometimes." She winked. "He gets that from his father."
Pan couldn't help but laugh a little. Yep, this was Bulma all right.
Still holding the journal close to her, Pan sat politely as Bulma laid out dishes on the kitchen table. She looked around. The kitchen even smelled the same. It had the same curtains in front of long, narrow windows and it had the same coffeemaker spitting out black goo.
Son Pan had never cared much for coffee.
Bulma bent down to look at the young girl next to Pan, who looked up at the woman with big, blue eyes, smiling.
"You want to have something, too?" Bulma asked.
The girl nodded.
"No," Pan said, interfering. She didn't look at Bulma, instead focused only on her child. "You should've been in bed a long time ago, young lady."
The girl pouted, Bulma noticed. It reminded her—well, it reminded her of herself, actually.
"But I'm not sleepy, mama." The girl yawned in mid-protest.
Pan raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
When the child was done yawning, she looked at her mother and nodded.
The woman wasn't sure what to do. She didn't want to bother Bulma, and she sure as hell wouldn't ask Trunks any favours. Luckily, Bulma helped her out. God, how she loved that woman! She knew she could always count on Bulma, any Bulma.
"I'll make a bed for her in one of the spare rooms. I'll be right back."
Bikini stood from her chair. "Can I come?" she asked.
Bulma fixed questioning eyes on the black-haired woman at the kitchen table who answered briskly.
"Sure."
Bulma left with Bikini, leaving her with him.
Great. But she could handle these kinds of situations. She was an adult. Besides, there wasn't much left she could ruin, was there? She stared out the window, feeling a lantern's light gleam in her eyes from the outside sweep. She knew it wouldn't be long before Trunks' piercing stare would result in questions fired at her.
"Were you and Trunks married in your world?" It was rather awkward using his own name as if it concerned someone else, but in truth, it did concern someone else. He rested his arms on the tabletop, waiting for a reply.
She didn't want to return his gaze. She couldn't handle it right now. She was tired. She wanted to catch some sleep. Angered, she bit her lip. This was the immature brat inside of her talking. She should face these issues as an adult and so she met with his eyes to answer his question.
"More or less," she said. Trunks' eyes revealed that he did not quite understand what she was saying so she explained herself before he'd pry. "Trunks wasn't the kind of guy to need a marriage in order to commit himself fully. That's why we never got married. We didn't need some stupid piece of paper telling us what we had was real."
There was a sense of hurt and remorse in her voice Trunks couldn't possibly place. It raised more questions, questions about this woman, about the other Trunks, about Bikini, about their world.
"What was your world like?" As Trunks finished his sentence, his mother entered and poured in a cup of coffee, quietly, distracting both him and Pan. Bulma clearly hadn't heard the question because she sat down and drew the other woman's attention with her eyes.
"Does she always have this much trouble falling asleep?" Bulma wondered, referring to the child she'd just tucked in.
Pan nodded in regret. "Yes. She's been like that since—" She hesitated. "Since her father died." Her eyes avoided Bulma's but everyone seated at the table could feel the heartrending pain in her words, weighing upon her shoulders.
"If you don't mind my asking…" Bulma began, uncertain of how she should bring it best.
The black-haired woman looked up. She pressed her lips together, which suggested the start of a smile.
"How did Trunks—" she corrected herself unwillingly, what did Trunks have to do with this? Err… "How did her father –die?" the older woman finally finished her sentence.
"To spare you the intricate details," Pan answered. "Majin Buu killed him."
Author's Note: finally, we're getting to the root of this woman! Spill it! Details, woman. Details.
Next chapter in process of writing. Suggestions and criticism, as always, are welcome.