The green skies of Namek made the scene even more peculiar. Goten remembered being a little boy with a green cat's eye marble between his fingers. He held it high above his head and sandwiched it between his eye and the sun. Namek was just like this- a hazy green world.
Trunks focused more on the trees sprawling above their heads. The white gnarled wood raised its branches high saluting Namek's sun. Trunks' eyes tracked up the deep ridges embedded into the bark. Powdery moss took up residence in the crannies.
"What do ya think that is?" Goten asked.
"I have no clue," Trunks answered.
Trunks pulled the dragon radar from his pocket. His sharp blue eyes paid no mind to his hands. They focused on the trembling tree limbs beneath the mystery creature. A red dot flashed on the black and white grid on the screen. The shiny orange casing on the radar made him think of his mother. He could see her in her office, nose deep in the gutted casing. Her tiny hands knitting the tedious wiring together meticulously, but she never forgot to add her own bold flare to her work.
"It's right ahead of us, less than 4 meters," Trunks said while scanning the tree.
"Look," Goten said, "There, in its hand!"
"Shhh, don't wake that thing up," Trunks reminded him.
"Well, looks like we both can't fit in the canopy," Goten reasoned.
Silence fell over them both. With a glance, the entire conversation was held and concluded. Trunks loved and hated that they knew each other so well. Goten was his forever playmate, a friend until his last breath with all the nuanced annoyances of a brother. Trunks' feet left the ground. He glided upward, careful to not disturb the branches. He contorted his body through tight twisted limbs to avoid noise.
"I'm going to throw the dragonball down to avoid noise," Trunks said.
"Got it, I'll catch," Goten agreed.
The beast's white face ended in a pointed red nose. Serrated teeth poked from its lips. Whiskers vibrated like strummed guitar strings over its snaggle teeth. Bushy grey hair covered its body. Black fur painted its small satellite ears and its limbs. White babies lined its back like pearls on a necklace.
Trunks diverted his attention to moving its clawed fingers off the three-star ball. He pried its thumb off slowly, offering a tree branch to satisfy the palm of its hand. Trunks fought the urge to gag; the texture of its red skin was like roasted chicken feet. His mind revisited foreign commerce banquets with his mother and politely declining their 'exotic delicacy' offerings as Bulma worded it.
"Is it like a Koala?," Goten called up.
"More like an Opossum from hell. Catch," he answered as he wrapped his arms around the dragon ball. The clawed hand squeezed the ball tight. Its recoiling fingers snapped like a bear trap. Trunks' arms were tangled in its fingers, hugging his chest to its knuckles.
"Oh crap," is all Trunks could manage as he looked into its beady brown eyes. The beast picked Trunks up, dragon ball and all, much to the excitement of her clinging babies.
Goten watched the beast shove Trunks into her belly pouch like a kid finding a shiny new penny. Goten blasted her, sending short ki bursts from his hands. He flew up to face the hissing spectacle. She snapped her teeth at Goten, like an alligator. Her babies piled into her pouch. She tucked her arms and legs as she rolled down the trunk of the tree. Goten dodged the hurling grey mass, taking branches and leaves with it. The wood pleaded no contest, snapping under her weight.
Trunks swam, in a sea of blind writhing fur. He struggled to find equilibrium in a dark topsy-turvy world. He heard Goten hollering his name over and over through the elastic membrane of flesh. The body head and stagnant air made his conclusion fast.
"I'm sorry," Trunks said to his grumbling audience.
The mother uncurled form her ball, to Goten's surprise. Her pouch glowed like a lamp shade over a bulb. She ripped Trunks from her pouch dragon ball and all. He caught himself in mid air. She was not impressed with his glowing yellow hair. She waited for her pups to climb back into her pouch clumsily. They looked like singed marshmallows clinging to her fur.
Trunks joined Goten on the ground, and he looked on, saddened by the results of his own stupidity.
If I was quiet, I wouldn't have had to hurt you, he thought. Then his mind wandered to Bulla, I should have noticed that something was wrong- that you weren't there. I should have noticed more- cared more, but I didn't have a clue.
Goten slapped Trunks on his shoulder, "Ah, they're a little worse for wear, but they'll be alright man," he laughed.
"It's our fault," Trunks reasoned, "All our fault."
They both turned to the sky without another word between them. Goten followed Trunks' trail, knowing they headed back to their ship. He understood that Trunks wasn't just taking about the lumbering mother in the tree. Goten milled over the statement. He remembered seeing Bulla in the hallway after they beat each other to a pulp. Her fortitude gave him some hope. The thought of her being alone with strange people, malicious people- the kind that turned the heads of the strongest warriors like their fathers made him sick. His hands trembled and a deep disgust rooted itself in his being.
Common scum just walked off with her; evil strolled through the front door and no one noticed- no one, he thought.
They touched down on a knoll right beside their Capsule Corp craft. The six other dragon balls were huddled together. Trunks dropped the three-star ball from his arms. It plunked onto the dirt and clacked into the others like a bowling ball knocking over [ins.
"Show time," Trunks said as he swept dirt and fur from his clothes. The balls glowed like coals in a fire. Their orange aura warmed their faces. Green fog poured from the balls. Green scales erupted from the ground like a snake out of its egg. Goten stiffened his knees as the ground quaked. Trunks took a step back, subconsciously leaning away. His heart galloped in his chest and stubborn phlegm gathered on his adam's apple.
"And I always thought Shenron was intimidating" Trunks said, not daring to move his eyes from the dragon.
"Um, what's its name?," Goten gulped.
"Porunga, I think. That's what mom and Piccolo said, right?"
"Beats me, but Porunga's got guns. Look at his arms!," Goten gawked.
An uneasy yawn escaped the dragon's lips. The sky and sun seemed to make room for his muscle bound shoulders. His shifting scales shimmered under the sun's heat waves. His round head squatted on his nearly absent body builder neck.
"Who has summoned me," Porunga's voice echoed through Namekian creation. He cracked his stiff neck and groaned. The black horns perched on his head blocked out the sun. His shadow swallowed the two men below. His glowing red eyes gave shape to his soft chin and round nostril-less nose. The red glow traced the chiseled landscape of his chest and abdominal muscles.
"We do!," Trunks called out, "Over coming the reverb of Porunga's voice in his chest.
"Very well, what is your wish?," the dragon said.
"Can you teleport my sister back home from wherever she is?"
"I cannot."
"What- why?"
"She has traveled to a realm outside of my jurisdiction."
"That makes no sense. You can literally bring people back from the dead!"
"You have no quarrel with me. Now, what is your wish," Porunga corrected him.
An idea startled Goten's brain- a brilliant one wrapped in gruesome packaging. He mulled it over, hushing his tongue. Some of Goku's impulsiveness was alive and well within him, but it was more considerate and tempered by his half human heart. The faces of the Brief family flashed before his eyes. Vegeta's stern face and Trunks' battle hungry rage sent a tingle down his spine.
They'll forgive me if it works, otherwise, we'll never know, he thought.
"Mighty dragon!," Goten yelled, "Could you kill his sister then retrieve her for us- bring her back o life, here with us?"
Trunks face drained its blood. The veins of his beck bulged like straws shoved beneath his skin.
"Goten- What. The. Fuck.," he panted before his face scrunched with unbridled pain. He finally unleashed the caged emotions that he wrestled with for weeks. His grief and anger gave birth to a vengeful, unholy monstrosity. Porunga's voice held Trunks' body back.
"No, I cannot. I cannot revive anyone deceased of natural causes, and I cannot take the life of anyone that my creator cannot kill."
"You're thinking of the wrong person, dragon," Trunks corrected, "My sister is Bulla Briefs, daughter of Bulma and Vegeta."
"I know of who you speak," Porunga growled, "What is your wish? I grow tired."
Trunks paused; he looked to Goten for reassurance that he wasn't alone in his confusion. Goten's brows furrowed over his batting eyes. Trunks threw his hands up and shook his head.
"Mighty dragon, please grant Bulla comfort and preservation until we can find her. Help her to get back to us," Trunks called.
"As you wish."
Porunga disintegrated from the bottom up. His tail burst into sparkling gold particles. The chain reaction zipped up the sail on his spine- reducing his V-back and spiked shoulders to glittering dust. His bull frog head unzipped itself, horns and all until his nose evaporated at last.
Trunks left Goten standing there. Goten watched the dragon balls rocket across the sky in all directions to find somewhere new to hide. The dark clouds left in Porunga's wake rolled to the East carrying lightening and wind. Goten turned and followed Trunks to the ship.
"Trunks, I'm sorry," Goten said.
"What ever man, Let's go home."
