Doomed to Failure
episode five ---Wakeful Warriors---
(Rating: T)
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Trunks from an alternate world had fathered the traumatized little girl that now lay sleeping in one of the guestrooms. Bulma had not been shocked but she'd been curious nonetheless. What had happened in this other world to make those two want to escape it? What had happened to her own counterpart and to Trunks?
"You and Trunks were never married," Bulma stated. She ignored her son's glare as he rather spoke of this new enemy than the other Trunks. She sipped from her coffee before she continued. "Why? I can't imagine why Trunks wouldn't get married especially since you had a child together… I'm sure he couldn't resemble his father that much." She thought of Vejiita, unwillingly remembering what a lousy father that man had been. Of course, she couldn't blame him, for Vejiita had never been given the opportunity to get to know Trunks. However, she had heard the stories her son brought from the past. That Vejiita did come around. Vejiita from the past had gotten to know Trunks; they had spent quite some time together, Bulma recalled. Her mind focused on the woman beside her again when she heard her dark voice in reply to her question.
"The child was legally his, if that's what you mean." Pan's voice sounded insulted, harsh even. Bulma also saw regret in the girl's face and she felt guilty trying to get answers from her. Before Bulma had a chance to say anything, Pan continued and the blue haired woman watched her carefully. She didn't understand how a girl who had seen this much terror, had lost the father of her child by the hands of some monster could speak in such a strong, stony way as if it hardly affected her. She reckoned Pan was a warrior, like Trunks but even Trunks had shed so many tears, albeit he would probably never admit it openly, he had. Only now did Bulma focus on what Pan was saying.
"… truth is, I couldn't marry him because I was afraid. I was never afraid of the androids or even Majin Buu but still, I was afraid to call Trunks anything beyond a warrior whom I fought alongside."
Bulma noticed the girl looked extremely worn-down and tired, her clothes were dirty and tattered, her skin grey almost. She figured the poor thing hadn't had a good night's rest for days and had been on the run for Kami knew how long. Before the woman could suggest her to get some sleep, Trunks spoke.
"I can relate to that," he said in a cold voice. Pan looked at him, confused. "It's frightening to have people that are close to you in times of war because it reminds you of the losses you've suffered before. You're afraid that in the end there will be no one left."
He saw the untold hurt in her eyes and it reminded him of the old times, when the androids had still roamed. His hunches about this woman had been right; there was no doubt in his mind she was a Saiyajin for he saw more than just hurt; he saw a fighting spirit and pride in her as well. He wasn't going to spare her feelings like his mother was. He had to know everything.
"How old were you when Gohan was killed?" Trunks asked.
The girl wasn't given any opportunity to answer as Bulma stepped in. "It's late," she said. "I'll show you your room. You can borrow some of my clothes for the time being and I'll bring you a towel so you can clean yourself up in the guest's bathroom." She glanced at Trunks before focusing on the young woman again, who reminded her so much of Son-kun.
Pan smiled gratefully and she followed the woman out of the kitchen and into a vast hallway. Her head pounded and she felt as if she was going to suffocate.
Trunks didn't move from where he sat and he didn't touch his coffee the entire time. Instead, Trunks was pondering on a lot of things. If what this woman said were true, there was another monster out there, dormant somewhere on this very soil. He still had so much left to wonder. Could she really be Gohan's kid? And could Bikini really be his daughter from an alternate world? What did it all mean?
His mother returned after a little while but he barely looked at her. The woman yawned. "I'm gonna turn in as well," she said. "It's been a trying day for all of us." She put the empty mugs in the sink and switched the coffee maker off. "Will you lock up?" Trunks nodded in reply to his mothers question, though he was hardly listening.
If there were another villain, his life would no longer be pointless. If there was another villain, he could prove to himself that his existence was not as futile as he thought. Being a warrior might not be such a burden after all. Could it be that peacetime was finally over?
He felt guilty feeling this excited but he couldn't deny that he was in fact jubilant. He got up and opened the backdoor. He could use some fresh air.
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She was glad to be alone again. She stared at the door after Bulma had closed it behind her for she didn't know how long. Pan sat down on the bed. The mattress was incredibly soft and yet firm enough to support her weight. She hadn't slept in a bed this comfortable since… since Trunks had still lived, since before Buu had arrived and messed up everything she had loved so dearly. She couldn't bear to see Trunks. He wasn't the same man but the resemblance was all too painful. She didn't want to feel anymore. She had shut everything off for so long now. She sighed.
Pan looked around her in the sterile room, see-through curtains fluttering by the open window. She could leave just like that and no one would be able to stop her. If she did, she would have to leave Bikini behind. The thought actually did not strike her as uncalled for or otherwise wrong. If she would leave Bikini here, she was sure her daughter would live in a safe world. If she would leave Bikini, Bikini had a shot at being happy. In her turn, she wouldn't have to be reminded of Trunks all the time anymore. She wouldn't have to worry about her daughter's safety. She wouldn't have to feel guilty over dragging her from one place to the next anymore. Her daughter would have a chance of life in happiness. Wasn't that what she deserved?
Pan buried her face in her hands and wept. She couldn't do this. She simply couldn't.
She tried to control herself and wiped her tears away angrily. In a nippy movement she got up and closed the window, catching the curtains in between. She opened the window again, jerking the curtains back in fury. Only now did she notice Trunks standing outside on the lawn below and she leaned on the windowsill to have a closer look on what he was doing there.
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The night was wintry. The dark sky was covered with clouds from which stars tried to escape in hopes of smiling down upon the black world. Rain hung imminent in the air. Trunks didn't mind. He rather liked the rain. Nothing in that cold atmosphere so much as hinted on the presence of an enemy that was told to be invincible. A Super Saiyajin had been unable to defeat them and yet Trunks knew he bore enough power to beat anything, any monster. He wondered if Pan was a Super Saiyajin. If that were the case, two Super Saiyajin had been unable to beat Buu. He frowned. Trunks had been a Super Saiyajin for years and although he had not faced a challenge in a very long time, he knew nothing could beat him. He was sure of it. He breathed in deeply as the first drops of rain started falling from the skies and he smiled to himself, grateful for being given such opportunity. He couldn't wait to witness the strength of this Majin Buu himself.
Trunks was anything but afraid, perhaps too eager to go to battle. He was very much aware of this and he knew it was his Saiyajin instinct that overtook the ratio he had inherited from his mother. He wanted to fight. He wanted this war. He had longed for it since the day he had defeated Cell.
He turned, looking up. He saw Pan looking outside, in his direction. As he raised his hand to greet her she moved away hastily and closed the window. Trunks understood that his presence must strike discord in her heart for he recalled how much it had both hurt and delighted him when he had seen Gohan again in the past time. The Gohan he had met in that world had been the same and had been so very different still. Trunks knew she was afraid of him but mostly afraid of her own feelings. He did not care. She had nothing to fear. He wasn't her Trunks and he wasn't planning to be either.
As he went back inside he made sure to lock the door behind him and switch on the alarm system that would secure all doors and windows from the inside. Though he cared little for anyone foolish enough to break into their house, he was careful enough to eliminate the odds of Pan and her child breaking out. He had too many questions still to allow Gohan's daughter to leave.
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She leaned with her back against the windowsill for only Kami knew how long. Her mind wandered too damn much. She could hardly focus on why she was here. She was grateful they had been hospitable enough to take her and Bikini in but she really couldn't stay here. She couldn't stay because Bikini was too young to understand. Bikini probably thought she finally had her father and her grandma back. The thought alone hurt Pan so much she was ready to cry. Perhaps it really was better to leave Bikini behind.
She grabbed the towel that was carefully placed on a lone chair and walked into the adjacent guest's bathroom. The room was tiled, elegant with gold and motion sensitive taps, and floor-heating. Although she had lived with Trunks for years she had never gotten used to the excessive luxury. She ignored the cracks in the far wall that hinted on a past time of destruction and despair. Taking off her ragged clothes, Pan got in the shower and let the steamy water calm her down. The wheels in her head wouldn't stop turning the entire time. She switched off the flood of water and dried her face with the towel, using her chi to dry the rest of her. It was a strange sensation to be able to use chi without having to be afraid of discovery. Discovery or not, Buu had been a moron; a destructive moron but he'd been a moron. If there were someone willing to fight her, she'd be ready.
The woman stood in front of the mirror as she brushed her teeth and inspected her face. She rinsed her mouth then looked at her face again. Her fingers followed the lines on her brow and under her eyes. She thought she looked rather tired, old perhaps. Angered, she ruffled her hair and stuck out her tongue. Even if she was naked and worn-out, Pan felt no shame for her scarred body and walked back into the bedroom, putting on the nightgown Bulma had given her. She managed a chuckle over the garment. She wasn't used to wearing dresses.
She let herself drop onto the bed and lay down on the blankets, facing the ceiling. Although she didn't want to sleep she dozed off in a matter of minutes, plagued by dreams of the past.
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She woke up with a start. It was still very early she reckoned, as the sun was yet to rise. She rubbed her face, pulling her knees under her chin. She couldn't believe her misfortune. How had she gotten herself into this mess in the first place? She got up and slipped out of her room to move down the hallway. Even though she had lived here for a good percentage of her life, she still had the feeling she could get lost easily. Luckily, her quarters were close to the living room so she had no trouble making it towards the kitchen either. She was hungry. Though she found it rather rude not to wait for breakfast, she knew she had to eat something or she'd collapse. She tried to sense everyone's chi. She could find her daughter's easily who was sleeping in a room near hers. Bulma's was easy to track as well, and she figured the woman was asleep also. Pan was frustrated finding it impossible to sense Trunks and she hoped he was out. She didn't want to bump into him. Her wish obviously wasn't granted when she entered the kitchen. She wasn't very pleased to find Trunks there.
"Good morning," she said. She sounded meek and she scolded herself for it. Trunks hardly looked up. "You're up early."
"I never went down," Trunks snorted without looking up from the bowl of rice he was eating.
At the sight and smell of the man's food, Pan's stomach lurched. The noise caught Trunks' attention and he looked up. He looked at her but she looked away and he ground his teeth together. "Why don't you sit down?" he suggested and he got to his feet. "I'm guessing you're hungry. There's more than enough in the fridge. I could get you some if you like."
"That's all right," she said dismissively. "I'm not that hungry." Her stomach rumbled again and her eyes moved around, to look at anything but him. He ground his teeth more. Her equivocation irritated him though he wasn't sure why it irritated him so much. He shoved his bowl of rice towards her and finally he had caught her attention. Her dark eyes set on his as he spoke to her: "Go ahead. It was my fourth portion already. I'm set." He knew she was thinking of accepting his gesture and to push her just over the edge he handed her a set of chopsticks. She dug in immediately and he smirked, leaning against the refrigerator. She ate like a Saiyajin. It reminded him so much of Gohan that he noticed a sense of melancholy washing over him. He tried to keep his smile but found himself unable to.
"How old were you when Gohan was killed?" He asked, as he had the night before. Trunks straightened when he noticed she had almost finished the bowl and he filled another one, which he handed to her promptly. She eagerly accepted his offer while he waited for her to answer his question. He knew she would provide him with an answer as soon as the worst part of her hunger was over.
He sat down again and as he did, she slowed her eating and cleared her throat to speak.
"I wasn't even born," she said. "Mom had me maybe two months after Gohan had been slain by those androids. Trunks once told me he fought them against incredible odds just to keep them from destroying innocent people. Although I never met my father, grandma always told me how much I resembled him. I… I wouldn't know but that's what she always told me. She told me I have his eyes and my grandfather's chin. I never met grandpa either. He died long before I was born. They say he was a great man. And I can only aspire to be like my father... or Goku for that matter—" She stopped talking rather suddenly, as if biting her own tongue. She focused on her food again.
Pan felt like an idiot. She was rambling. The words she uttered sounded stupid and meaningless. They sounded as if she wasn't even sure whether she meant it or not as if she needed reassurance from some stranger. She ignored Trunks as he spoke to her and continued to focus on eating.
"There's no one like Goku," he said. She flashed her eyes up for a moment, wondering what he was getting at. "Gohan and he were so much alike. They had a strength in them that was remarkable, a strength that wasn't about sheer power. When I was a kid I wondered how mom could think Goku could make a difference and she told me—"
"He can make a difference alright! When you are with him you just now everything's going to be fine," Bulma filled in as she entered. "Morning, you two. Aren't you up and going early!" Instead of sitting down she immediately walked over to the coffee maker to switch it on.
"Did you manage to get any sleep, Pan?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at the young woman. Pan nodded as she finished her bowl. "Yes, ma'am."
She was still hungry but didn't want to impose on anyone and ask for more. She decided to just wait for what was to happen.
"Don't call me that," Bulma urged. "You make me feel old."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"That's quite alright, Pan-san." Bulma took a mug from the cupboard and poured in fresh coffee. She leaned against the counter, blowing in her mug delicately.
"So, you knew your grandfather, Pan-san?" the blue haired woman asked.
"Sadly, no," Pan said, and she shook her head. "I just know the stories grandma told me."
Trunks got up. "That's it!" he exclaimed. Both Bulma and Pan stared at him with a puzzled look. "If there's anyone able to tell us whether you exist in our world," the lavender haired man continued as he pointed to Pan. "It's ChiChi."
"What difference would that make?" Pan cut short.
"If Gohan had a daughter in my world I would at least want to meet her. I owe it to Gohan to watch out for her," Trunks snapped. Bulma watched the beginning of an argument and wondered what had happened to trigger this.
"If she exists," Pan spoke in a testy voice. "She has managed to live without you for Kami knows how many years. What makes you think she'd even want to meet you? You're the one who got in Gohan's way! You're the one who made him lose his arm and in the end his life! If it wasn't for you—!"
A fury built in Trunks' eyes Bulma had never seen before. His blue eyes turned darker, his brow furrowed in anger as he rose from his chair and dove for her, grabbing her by her throat and ramming her against the far wall. His eyes were near hers, eyes that flashed on the brink of becoming those of a Super Saiyajin.
"How dare you!" he snarled. "You weren't even there!"
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Author's Note: I apologize for the long absence. I've been occupied with God knows how many things. Now I've gotten back to the rhythm they call university, expect chapters to be written again. Also, if you dislike the many passive sentences, which I use in between the active ones... eh... get used to them?
Know that this story is as much a TP as it is NOT a TP. I feel utterly cold when it comes to this whole rivalry of Trunks and Pan being perfect together, and Trunks and Pan being the worst couple ever. Give this story a chance whether you love or hate Trunks x Pan. Promise?