episode six ---Never Dare A Super Saiyajin!---
(Rating: T)
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Everything happened too fast for Bulma to realize Trunks' rather sudden attack was more innocent than it looked. She called out his name, hoping he'd remember this was still her house and he was to live by her rules even if he hardly caused her trouble (and she was more of a hassle than he was). Trunks seemed to respond to hearing her voice as he backed away slowly, giving Pan one last shove before he let go of her.
"My God, Trunks," Bulma said with a sigh of relief. "That's no way of treating our guest." Trunks didn't look at his mother, instead focused on the doorway. Bulma wasn't done talking and directed her words on Pan, figuring she could talk to Trunks in person, later. "As for you, Pan-san," she began. "Nobody speaks badly of my son, even if your father's involved. Trunks was only a boy when Gohan was killed. There's no way you can blame him for what the Androids did. I will hear no more of it." Pan nodded solemnly in response to Bulma's wishes. After all, she had been out of place to say those things and Trunks deserved an apology. She had no idea why she'd felt the need to bring up Gohan's death, let alone blame it on Trunks.
Pan looked at Trunks, who still focused on the doorway. She followed his eyes. Bulma did the same.
"Okaasan," the little girl in the doorway said in a pleading voice. "Don't make touchan angry. That's not nice." She pouted and looked solely at the man she thought was her father. Pan said nothing for a while and looked at Trunks, then at her daughter, and at Trunks again, over and over. Eventually, she opened her mouth as she kneeled down beside Bikini. She caressed the girl's hair lightly.
"I didn't mean to hurt his feelings, Bikini-chan. Sometimes your mother opens her big mouth before she thinks about the consequences."
The child blinked, her blue eyes questioning. "What're consequences?"
"Bikini," Bulma interrupted, to catch the girl's attention. "Would you like some pancakes?"
"Hai hai!" the lavender haired girl exclaimed and she waved her arms about to run over to the woman.
"What would you like on your pancakes, Bikini-chan?" Bulma continued. She picked the girl up and fitted her newfound role as a grandmother perfectly.
"Sprinkles, and jam, and chocolate, and apple!" the child said, actually rather decisively. A Saiyajin appetite with a sweet tooth, Bulma thought and she laughed, taking milk and eggs from the refrigerator, setting Bikini on the counter so the girl would focus on making pancakes with her instant-grandmother completely. Disputes between adults were things that need not involve a child, Bulma knew.
Trunks in his turn walked out of the kitchen and he gestured Pan, as he laid eyes on her, to follow. "You come with me," he told her. Trunks was determined to settle whichever unfinished business this woman had with him, or at the very least with the Trunks she had lost. He'd scold himself for his lack of self-control later. He wasn't usually so easily angered but as soon as either Gohan or his mother were involved he was easily rubbed up the wrong way.
He'd look over his shoulder to see if she was still following, occasionally. Her eyes read confusion and the will to know what he was planning. He smirked. His feet carried him from one hallway to the next, taking a few turns so she would lose her orientation. She would find out soon enough where they were going. He avoided her questions as to what he was to orchestrate with practiced ease.
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"Where are we going?" she asked. To her frustration all he did was smirk at her. She breathed through her teeth. Why did this Trunks know exactly which buttons to press like hers had? She wanted to tear his head right off the damned bastard.
"So, where are we going again?" she tried a second time after she'd completely lost the last clues on her whereabouts. The bastard was playing a game with her and she didn't even know what game it was, damn him. Again, Trunks didn't answer.
"I've had it," she said crossly and stopped in her tracks. "I'm not moving until you tell me where the hell you're taking me."
He turned and looked at her, slightly amused with her ridiculous temper. He wondered what in the world this woman's mother had been like to have her turn out this obstinate.
"We're there," he said in a cool voice, opening the door with the flick of a button. He wasn't going to lose his temper over her immaturity again. He knew better than that.
"We're where!" she demanded in an uncivilized manner. Trunks didn't bite.
"You'll see once you enter," he challenged her.
Bah, that asshole. Her Trunks had been an equal bastard. He was taking advantage of her curiosity. She hated it when he did that. Upon entering she forgot to correct herself that this Trunks wasn't her Trunks and instead stared in awe over the vastness of this room, which looked like a huge, enclosed training ground. She had never seen anything like it, not even in her world. Trunks must've kept it from her, that selfish bastard, wanting to train in private.
The place was absolutely massive! It stretched out as far as her Saiyajin sight could see, which was mighty faraway. But, why had Trunks brought her here?
She turned and blinked, shielding herself from the bright light the man behind her flicked on. It took a while before her eyes had adjusted. While her eyes adapted she discerned a shape. The shape was of a tall man with the bluest of eyes. She recognized him. Trunks? Her Trunks?
What?
How…?
Nani?.
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"Go ahead," Trunks said to her. "And take your best shot at me. Show me what you're made of."
She blinked more, unable to shake off the confusion. She didn't move. She couldn't move. She just stared, blinking.
Trunks noticed her hesitancy. He wasn't sure what she was waiting for but figured it had to do with the emptiness of the room. The room was made to resemble the Room of Spirit and Time he had told his mother of after his second return from the past. Bulma had been utterly fascinated by that room and had worked on a similar space for many years, just to figure out how to build it. This room wasn't the same but it came mighty close. When Pan was still not moving Trunks moved in the direction of the door, to a panel where he switched on some buttons.
His pressing of buttons initiated a programme Bulma had installed. The surroundings changed from a white vastness to a vast area of grassy rims and valleys.
"I hope that's better for you," he told Pan and walked up to her.
She looked up to him, and finally she seemed to return to the world of the living. "Huh?" she stammered. "Where am I? What… who…?"
She looked around her, noticing she was outside. She glared at Trunks. "Where are we?" she said in a snippy voice.
"Calm down," Trunks ordered. God, did this woman ever settle down? "You're in the Holographic Room. The landscape is mostly holographic but it feels real enough. I figured you wanted to blow off some steam."
"I don't need to blow off any steam. I just want to leave this place."
"You know where the door is. You sure you can find your way back on your own?" Trunks spoke slowly, irritating her. He didn't care. She needed to grow up. Why was she always like this?
"Not this stupid room, baka!" she cried at him. "Leave this world! The sooner I leave, the better! I did what I came here for so now it's time for me to leave. Not that you know anything… you can't even leave me alone."
Trunks' face did not tell her anything. He levitated. "Of course I can leave you alone," he told her. "Bye!" He took off in the distance and Pan wondered how vast this room really was, watching him take off at such a speed.
She shot after him, as she wondered where he was going.
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The outside world was black, lit up only by the stars that flickered and shone all around. There was no day here, nor was there night. The saucer moved in a steady rhythm, shooting past one galaxy after the next. The tiny, wrinkled old man inside the saucer, standing by the pane, rubbed his hands.
"Fo," he spoke in a cracking voice. "How long till we reach our destination?"
"Just a few more days, Lord Babidi," his assistant told him.
"Good," Babidi replied. "When can I have my lunch, Fo?"
"Just a few more days, erm, minutes, Lord Babidi," his assistant replied.
"Don't do jokes. I don't like jokes," Babidi said, and he looked outside again, into the space that was void of day and night.
"I apologize, Lord Babidi. It won't happen again." Fo bowed and took his leave, leaving Babidi to rub his hands and pull an evil smirk all by himself.
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After a while, Trunks stopped and landed. He turned and saw Pan approaching. She landed near him. Her anger seemed to have subsided, for now. The woman had so much anger in her, Trunks once again wondered whether she was a Super Saiyajin. Since talking to her apparently didn't get him anywhere he figured it was best to try a different approach. He stretched his muscles, warming himself up. She watched him carefully, wondering what he was up to. She didn't say anything. Keeping an eye on him sufficed, obviously. It was likely she thought Trunks wasn't going to answer her questions anyway, so she asked none and waited.
He took a deep breath and parted his feet a bit. He let out a shriek, then powered up to Super Saiyajin. His hair turned gold, his eyes burned with the aura of a warrior, flashing to a bright shade that only emphasized the power bursting from him already.
She glared at him. "What do you want from me!"
Trunks didn't reply. He just looked at her with those strong, emerald eyes. The ground singed under his feet, a golden aura still bursting from him violently, displaying his strength. Was he trying to intimidate her? What did he want from her? Was he testing her?
"Have it your way," she said. Whether this Trunks was similar to hers, she didn't care. She knew Trunks. She knew it was likely he was testing her, wanted to know how strong she was. Did he want to know whether she, too, was a Super Saiyajin? Her Trunks had questioned her strength long enough, questioned if she could ever become a Super Saiyajin in the first place. Pan, after all, was only one fourth Saiyajin. Her Trunks had long doubted the possibility of Pan becoming a Super Saiyajin and she admitted it had taken her longer to attain such a level than Trunks had. But Pan had never had a trigger quite like Trunks had. Pan had never consciously lost anyone close to her like Trunks had, before becoming a Super Saiyajin. How could any Trunks justify doubting her? How could this Trunks justify doubting her while she and her daughter were the only survivors of a monster much stronger than any of the androids had ever been? Did this Trunks think her Trunks had died because he had sacrificed himself to save her and their child? Is that what he thought? He thought she was puny? Did he actually think she was puny? That she was no better than a human in need of rescue? If so, this Trunks was as much a bastard as hers had been for not believing in her. Her heritage meant nothing, did it? All that mattered was whether she was a Super Saiyajin or not. Damn him. Damn that bastard. How dare he think he could fight the androids by himself? How dare he think he could take on Majin Buu alone?.! How dare he die?.! How dare he die on her and leave her to fend for herself, leave her alone in a world she couldn't cope with, a world without him?.! How dare he?.!.!
She had lost all sense of reality, all sense of this world and the one she'd come from, all sense of her Trunks and this Trunks. To her, it was all the same, the same fears, the same doubts, the same pain, the same loss. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.
How dare he leave her? How dare he not believe in her?
She screamed in pain, a cry that startled the man before her, made him lower his guard, wondering what was going on. She continued to scream and tears burst from her eyes, alike the aura that burst from her entire being. Her hair began to float, her eyes stung. She had clenched her fists to the point that her knuckles turned white and blood began to trickle from her fingers. It just wasn't fair. The pain was too much, the pain she had buried in her heart was just too much. She was ready to burst and when she finally did, Son Pan stared through the eyes of a Super Saiyajin, her hair upright, her fists still clenched. She opened her eyes but did not collect the shock she read in Trunks' eyes. She did not realize his guard was down, and she didn't care anyway. She shot forward, and charged a blast.
"Kamehameha!" she cried, pushing her hands forward, her fingers almost touching Trunks' abdomen. It felt like a lethal blast, as if she intended to kill him, to rid her from the images that burned on her retina forever, to just never have to see him again, his eyes looking at her, her thoughts lingering on the years they had been each other's only support. She wanted to get rid of it all. She never wanted to see him, ever again. He was dead. He was dead!
She could feel how his aura began to waver, his energy faltering. She could feel him collapse out of her reach but she still did not realize what she'd done. The frustration she had built up all this time, the painful confrontation with a man that was so much like the man she'd loved for so long, loved still, continued to overshadow her reason, continued to drive her to the edge of insanity.
"I hate you for leaving me!" she screamed in the explosions that resulted from her blast. "I hate you, Trunks! I hate you!.!"
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Author's Note: Ouch, that must've hurt! And is that Babidi's bad breath I feel breathing down my neck?
Pan sure attacks Trunks a lot, doesn't she? But, at least we now know why. Apparently, she hates him. : ( : )