Percussion
Chapter 11

Still Waters

Trunks wiped the sleep out of his eyes as he rolled his sore body out of bed. He seldom slept in this late, but it was a rare day in which he didn't have an early-morning training session with Goku scheduled, and rising before dawn every day for the past two weeks was beginning to take its toll. He didn't bother grabbing a shirt or shoes, instead making his way out of his room and toward the stairs dressed in nothing more than the loose sweatpants he'd fallen asleep in the night before.

Trunks had advanced rapidly over the past couple of weeks. The variety in his training schedule likely had something to do with his progress. Goku was, unsurprisingly, an incredibly effective master, and his sparring sessions with Gohan consistently forced him to push his limits. All this was on top of the substantial amount of training that he'd been doing on his own.

As for his father . . .

Trunks shook his head as he made his way down the stairs. He knew there was a lot he could learn from Vegeta. Still, he hadn't trained with the Saiyan prince since that day in the gravity chamber three weeks prior. Truth be told, the half-Saiyan was more angry with himself than with his father. Yes, Vegeta had opened up somewhat over the past decade, but Trunks—this version of him, anyway—had not been a part of that man's life. The teen had been foolish to think he could cultivate anything resembling a relationship with him.

Trunks was finally coming to accept what he should have realized long ago. His father, despite all they had faced together, ultimately thought of him as a failure.

Trunks shook his head, as if to shake the thought out of his mind as he entered the kitchen. He was here on a mission, not for a family reunion.

He stepped in to find Bulma sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper over a cup of coffee. "Mother, good morning," he greeted warmly, stepping toward the table and taking the seat next to her.

"Oh, Trunks," she said, looking up from her newspaper. "Not training with Goku this morning?"

"Not until tomorrow," Trunks answered. "What about you? Are you actually taking a day off?"

"For once, yeah," she said before taking another sip of coffee. "There's a pot of tea on for you."

Trunks smiled in response. "Thanks," he said, rising to pour himself a mug before retaking his seat next to her.

"So how are the sessions with Goku going?"

"Really well," he answered, blowing into his mug to cool the steaming liquid. "This isn't exactly a surprise, but Goku definitely knows what he's doing."

"And to think, he can train you without beating you to a bloody pulp."

Trunks nearly choked on his tea. "Mother!"

"I know, it's been weeks, but I still can't believe Vegeta would—"

"It's fine," Trunks insisted, setting his mug down on the table.

"Have you even spoken to him?"

"No," Trunks admitted, looking down into his mug. "The truth is, I don't think he has much to say to me."

"And what about you?"

"Hmm?" Trunks replied, looking back up at Bulma. "What do you mean?"

"Do you have anything to say to him?"

"I'd rather not," came Trunks' quiet response.

Bulma looked as though she wanted to argue, but as she opened her mouth to speak, the mobile phone on the kitchen table began to ring. Bulma picked it up, looking at the small display screen. "Damn," she said, reading the number that appeared on her phone. "I have to take this."

"It's Sunday." Trunks frowned slightly at her. "I thought you were taking the day off."

"Science never sleeps," Bulma sighed. "And neither do my executive vice presidents, apparently." She flipped open the phone, answering the man on the other line. "Hold on, Domi, I'll be with you in a minute." She covered the microphone with her hand as she returned her gaze to her teenaged son. "Just think about it, okay?" She waited for Trunks to nod in reply before removing her hand, resuming her business call as she walked out of the kitchen.

Trunks finished the rest of his cooling tea before rising to pour himself a second cup. He was leaning against the counter when he sensed another presence, one all too similar to his own, approaching. He didn't need to look up to realize that his young counterpart had entered the kitchen.

"Oh, there you are," the boy said by way of greeting.

Trunks nodded in reply. "What's up, kiddo?"

The younger boy ignored his question. Instead, his eyes widened as he stared at the shirtless teenager. "Wow," he blurted out. "You've got a lot of scars."

"Thanks, I hadn't noticed," the teen murmured into his mug.

"How'd you get so thrashed up?"

The time-traveler narrowed his eyes at his counterpart. "What do you want, Trunks?" he asked flatly, setting his mug down on the counter with a soft thud.

"Right. Sorry." The boy bit his lower lip, suddenly looking hesitant. "Uh, I was gonna ask if you still wanted to train with me this morning."

The elder boy smacked his forehead—he'd forgotten about his promise to resume his sparring with the child. It had been weeks since their last session; Trunks hadn't trained with his younger self since before the boy's trip to Pepper City three weeks prior.

"Crap," he said. "I completely forgot."

The boy cast his glance away his older self. "You don't have to."

"No, I said I would," the teen insisted. "Just give me a few."

"Right," the boy said, turning to leave the kitchen. "Sure, whenever."

Trunks quickly gulped down the rest of his tea, setting his mug in the sink before running upstairs to change. He opened his dresser drawer to find the five black training gi's—each with a pale blue belt and matching wristbands—that Bulma had stocked there. He quickly grabbed one, changing before heading back down toward the gravity room.

He opened the heavy metal door to find his young counterpart already inside, toying with the dials on the gravity generator. The child looked up when he heard the door open, apparently startled by the older boy's presence.

"You're here," the younger Trunks said, sounding somewhat surprised.

"Yeah," the teenager replied, closing the door behind him. "I promised."

"I thought you might back out."

Trunks frowned at his younger self. "Why's that?"

"Well, you seemed kind of ticked off earlier."

The teenager's frown deepened. "I'm not angry with you. Now do you want to spar, or are we going to stand around all day?"

"Okay, okay, yeesh." The boy quickly activated the gravity generator, setting it to 75 G's. "You're starting to sound like Dad."

The teenager folded his arms, unsure whether the kid had meant the observation as an insult or not. "Sorry. I've been a little preoccupied lately."

"Because of Buu?"

The frown dropped from the teenager's face as his eyes widened in surprise. "Who told you about that?" He couldn't imagine that his mother would share that information with his younger self, and he doubted Vegeta had so much as discussed the topic since their own sparring session three weeks before.

"Uh," the kid began sheepishly. "Well, you did."

"What are you talking about?"

"When you were talking to Gohan. I overheard you."

Realization dawned on the teenager. "You're the one who told Mother."

The boy started fiddling with his thumbs. "Uh, yeah. Sorry."

"It's fine." The older Trunks pinched the bridge of his nose. "I had to tell her eventually. She just caught me a little off guard."

The child managed a half-cocked smile. "She tends to do that."

"I just wish you'd spoken to me before telling her."

"It just kind of came out." The boy bit his lower lip for a moment before continuing. "You know it's a really bad idea, right?"

"So everyone keeps telling me."

"That's because it's a really bad idea."

"I get it," Trunks huffed out. "Between Mother, Gohan, and Goku, I've gotten that message loud and clear."

"And you're still going to fight him? Alone?"

"Do you have any better ideas?"

"Yeah, maybe," the younger Trunks said. "Like fusion."

"Fusion?"

"You learn this dance to merge bodies with someone else. It lasts for thirty minutes, and makes you way more powerful. Like, a lot stronger than the two original bodies put together."

Trunks raised an eyebrow at his young counterpart. This was the first he'd ever heard of such a technique. "When did you learn how to do that?"

"Goten's dad and Piccolo taught it to me and Goten. We practiced it in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber before going to fight Majin Buu."

Trunks' jaw dropped. "You've been inside the Time Chamber?"

"I just said that."

"But you can only use it twice in a lifetime." The teenager spoke more to himself than to his counterpart.

"I know, I've only used it once."

"Yes, but I had already used it twice." Trunks paused for a moment, looking the younger boy up and down for a moment. "Holy shit." The teenager bit his tongue, looking at the child. "Er, sorry."

"Oh, yeah, my poor ears. Because I've managed to spend eleven years living with Mom and Dad and never heard the word 'shit' before."

The older Trunks chuckled. Even in his own timeline, where his mother had been forced to mature with heartbreaking speed, she had never quite lost her foul-mouthedness. The torrents of swears and curses he'd heard his mother unleash at her equipment as she worked on the time machine were impressive, even to a teenager's ears.

"The verdict's in, kiddo," the teen said. "We've got two separate lifetimes."

"Well, duh. You're from another timeline."

"Adults can be idiots sometimes," Trunks said with a smile. "Thanks for the reminder."

"You're barely an adult," the boy said, rolling his eyes and finally stepping into sparring form. "Now do you want to spar, or are we going to stand around all day?"

Trunks laughed at the child's echoing of his own words before mirroring the boy's stance. "Alright. But you're asking for it."

Sunday afternoon came and went quickly. By the time his sparring session with his younger self ended, Trunks had found Goten perched on a couch in their living room, with Krillin apparently on his way from Kame House to deliver Marron. The children's Sunday afternoon playdate had evolved into a Sunday evening sleepover, which was why, when the teenager came downstairs the next morning, he heard three young voices giggling in the living room.

"Morning," the teenager said around a yawn as he came downstairs. The three kids immediately quieted themselves, stiffening up as they turned toward the older boy.

"Oh, uh, good morning," the younger Trunks said. Goten was biting his lip as a grin crept up the corners of his lips, while Marron let out another soft giggle.

Trunks frowned at the three children. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Goten insisted.

"Alright," the teen said. He wasn't sure what mischief the three of them—no doubt spurred on by his younger self—were up to, but given their apparent habit of pulling pranks on the much-beleaguered Vegeta, Trunks thought it was best that he not know. "Do you know if Father's using the Gravity Room?"

"Haven't seen him yet today," the younger Trunks said.

"Perfect," the teenager said. Goku had uncharacteristically scheduled their training session for the early afternoon, so Trunks was hoping to warm up in the Gravity Room before flying out to Mount Paozu for another round of lessons. He made his way down the corridor, pointedly ignoring the childish giggles that had once again started up in the living room.

The teenager entered the domed chamber, setting the gravity to 300 G's before beginning his exercises. He quickly ran through his usual stretches before working through the forms he had been practicing with Goku. Though he hated to admit it, his new master had been completely right about the areas in which he'd been lacking. In his desperation to get stronger over the years—and bring an end to the androids terrorizing his planet as quickly as possible—he had cut corners. If he had any hope of handling the Super Saiyan Two transformation, he needed to rebuild his skills from the bottom up.

An hour passed, then two. A quick glance at the clock on the gravity generator console alerted Trunks to the time. He quickly walked over to the console to turn off the generators; if he didn't leave for Mount Paozu soon, he would almost certainly be late to meet Goku.

He unlocked the door to the Gravity Room before opening it. The instant he stepped through the threshold, however, he was thrown off balance. He felt himself land on his bottom before something wet and oddly sticky fell on him, covering him head to toe.

Trunks shook his head, trying to regain his bearings. He looked down to see a neon green slime covering him. He blinked a few times, staring at the green goo that coated his hands.

"What the hell?" Trunks asked aloud, too confused to be irritated. His answer came in the form of three loud giggles. He looked off to his side to his he younger self, Goten, and Marron, all laughing hysterically down the hall.

Little Trunks shot the other children a broad, smug smile. "I told you it would work!" The other two continued their mad giggles, and Goten was clutching his stomach as he struggled to catch his breath around his laughs.

"Trunks! Goten!" A loud female voice shouted from down the hallway. "What are you getting up to now?"

The elder Trunks stood as he saw the kids run quickly away from the direction of the Gravity Room. A few moments later he saw Bulma round the corner and approach him.

Bulma's large blue eyes widened as she saw her teenaged son. "What happened to you?"

"The boys happened, apparently." Trunks winced as he accidentally swallowed some of the slime. It didn't have much of a taste, but the texture was less than pleasant.

Bulma couldn't help laughing at that. "So Trunks has finally pranked you, huh?" She smiled, taking in the sight of her teenaged son covered from head to toe in viscous green slime. "That means he likes you."

"Odd way of showing it." Trunks wiped some of the green gunk from his forehead, keeping it from dripping into his eyes. "I'd better go rinse off and change."

Bulma laughed again. "Try not to track slime all over the house."

Trunks nodded. "I'll fly. Hopefully won't ruin too much of the carpet that way." The teenager levitated, leaving his smiling mother behind him as he made his way down the hall and upstairs.

In his rush to get to the shower, Trunks didn't register the presence of another person in the hallway. He barely managed to avoid slamming into Vegeta as the older man walked toward the stairs.

Trunks stopped short, midair. He swallowed loudly as a heavy silence filled the hallway. His father looked him up and down before speaking the first words he'd actively directed toward his teenaged son since their training session three weeks earlier.

"Trunks and Goten?" the older man asked, raising an eyebrow at the teenager's appearance.

"Uh, yeah," Trunks said awkwardly. He rubbed one arm in discomfort, hoping his father would move off to one side so he could get to the shower before his lesson with Goku.

No such luck. "Where are you off to in such a rush?" Vegeta asked.

"I'm supposed to be at Mount Paozu in less than half an hour."

"What the hell for? Gohan lives out in Satan City."

Trunks didn't answer. Mere seconds passed before realization dawned on Vegeta's features.

"You're training with Kakarrot, aren't you?" Again, Trunks didn't answer—that seemed to be all the confirmation Vegeta needed.

The Saiyan Prince practically spat out his next words. "You're an idiot if you think he'll go easier on you than I."

"I'm not looking for him to go easy on me," Trunks muttered in reply.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes, glaring at the teenager for a few moments. The tension was palpable; again, Trunks silently hoped that his father would simply walk away.

Suddenly, and completely without warning, Vegeta laughed. Trunks startled up. Of all the reactions he had been preparing himself for, that was not one of them.

"Well," Vegeta said with a soft laugh, "you could do worse." With that, he stepped around the teenager and made his way downstairs.

Trunks gaped in shock as he watched his father's retreating form. "I am never going to figure him out."

Trunks had to admit to himself that his father had been more than right in his observations. Though he was a kind man, Goku was a very demanding master. He wasn't stern, exactly, but he brooked absolutely no argument during his training sessions.

This was why, two hours into their lessons, Trunks had done nothing more than raise and lower his ki levels on command. It was a surprisingly tiring exercise, but he realized that Goku was right. Controlling his energy was a key skill, and one that Trunks had been neglecting.

"Alright," Goku said as Trunks powered down yet again. "We're going to move on to something else."

"Great," Trunks said with no small amount of relief. "What will we be working on now?"

"Ki blasts," Goku said simply.

Trunks smiled. This was the first time he would be working with energy beams since he started training with Goku. All their prior lessons had been focused on basic exercises and hand-to-hand combat, and Trunks was relieved to be moving on to something more advanced.

"The different ki blasts—how do I put this—it's not just about using different hand movements," Goku began. "The attacks behave differently based on where in your body the energy originates. Does that make sense?"

"Sort of," Trunks said. "I'm not a hundred percent sure what you mean."

Goku sighed, frowning as he tried to think of a way to rephrase. "Really, Vegeta's the master of this. I've never met anyone with a bigger range of attacks."

"Right," Trunks said awkwardly.

The Saiyan seemed to pick up on the boy's discomfort. "Tell you what," Goku said gently. "Why don't I show you what I mean? I want you to let out a ki blast."

"What kind?"

"Anything. Whatever you're most comfortable with."

"Alright." Trunks placed his thumbs and forefingers together in a diamond shape. He took a deep breath, gathering his energy as he prepared to fire a blast from his hands and into the sky. An instant before he was ready to fire, he heard his master's voice shout at him.

"Stop!" Goku ordered. The startled teenager held his breath, keeping his hands in position.

"Hold the energy back," Goku continued. "Don't drop it, but don't fire."

Trunks nodded and did his best to obey. It was a strange, mildly uncomfortable sensation. Holding a blast back like this was not something he had ever tried before, and his muscles were tense with the effort.

"Where do you feel it?" Goku asked.

"My . . ." Trunks trailed off, trying to focus on the energy he had gathered. "My upper back," he finally answered. "And shoulders."

"Good," Goku said. "Focus on that when you fire." Trunks did so, finally letting the energy beam loose. He was surprised to find that the beam seemed slightly more focused than usual, and lasted just a bit longer than he was used to.

"How did that feel?" Goku asked once Trunks let his arms drop to his side.

"Different," Trunks said. "Not more powerful, exactly. Just . . . I felt more in control."

"Good." Goku smiled at Trunks' answer. "Real good. Now, did you ever learn how to do a kamehameha?"

"No," Trunks said, shaking his head. He wasn't sure if his world's Gohan had ever mastered that particular technique, but either way, he had never passed it on to Trunks.

"Great! Then that's our next lesson." Trunks almost laughed at the gleeful look on his teacher's face. It was clear that Goku was thoroughly enjoying the prospect of teaching yet another fighter his signature attack.

"It starts deep, deep within your gut," Goku began. "Hold your hands like this." Trunks watched as Goku cupped his hands and held them at his side. Trunks mimicked the older man's posture.

"Now," Goku said, "bring that energy out from your gut and focus it on one point between your hands." Trunks nodded, swallowing as he concentrated on following Goku's instructions. "You don't have to say the name of the attack when you charge it, but it usually helps me."

Trunks nodded. "Ka . . ."

"Don't let your power levels drop. Focus."

"Me . . ."

"Bring that energy out. Feel it."

"Ha . . ."

"Pull your arms back. Let the ki build in your hands."

"Me . . ."

"Now push it out!"

Trunks thrust his hands forward. "HA!" Instantly, a powerful, bright white beam came shooting out of his hands. He held his position until the blast was complete. Trunks panted, taking a moment to catch his breath as he watched the beam dissipate harmlessly among the clouds.

Goku clapped Trunks on the shoulder "You got that fast," he said approvingly.

Trunks took a few more breaths, nodding as he turned to his master. "I can see why you're so fond of that one. It's pure power."

"That's the idea," Goku said with a grin. "You've already gotten a lot stronger, you know."

"Nowhere near strong enough to take on Buu, though," Trunks said knowingly.

"You'll get there," Goku said. "I know you've got it in you."

"I appreciate that, Goku," Trunks said. "The question is how to get it out of me."

The two Saiyans both heard a deep voice speak from above them. "That is the question, isn't it?" They looked up to find Piccolo, dressed in his signature cape and turban, floating mere feet above their heads.

"Piccolo!" Goku greeted. "What brings you down here?"

"Trunks does, actually," Piccolo said as he landed. "I heard from Gohan that you're planning on taking on Buu in your own time."

"Yeah," Trunks said. "That's why I'm training here."

"Training might not be enough, you know. Buu's not like anything I've ever seen, before or since."

Trunks and Goku shared a look. "That's what everyone keeps telling me," Trunks said. "But I don't think I have much choice in the matter."

"I'm not here to talk you out of it," the Namekian assured the teenager. "What I'm saying is that you need to be prepared for anything."

Goku frowned at his friend. "What are you getting at, Piccolo?"

"Trunks should try training in the Pendulum Room." Trunks frowned at Piccolo's words. The young demi-Saiyan had never heard of this 'Pendulum Room,' but it was clear from the look on his master's face that Goku certainly had.

"You're not serious," Goku said, his eyes widening. "That place is . . ." Goku trailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

"Intense," Piccolo volunteered. "I know. But you understand better than anyone that that's something he'll have to be ready for."

"What's the Pendulum Room?" Trunks asked, looking back and forth between the Saiyan and the Namek.

"It's a chamber on Kami's lookout," Goku explained. "I trained up there when I was a kid."

Trunks frowned. "Different from the Time Chamber?"

"Yes," Piccolo said with a slight wince. "The Time Chamber is . . . well, let's just say that it's inaccessible for the time being."

"Inaccessible how?"

"Piccolo destroyed the door when they were fighting Buu up there," Goku explained.

"It's a long story," Piccolo said. "The point is, Goku, I think Trunks should give the Pendulum Room a try."

Trunks again turned to his master. The look of wariness his Goku's face worried him somewhat. He rarely saw the older man express the slightest amount of hesitation; he couldn't help but wonder what this Pendulum Room could possibly have in store for him.

"It's not a bad idea," Goku finally said. "It's just kind of jarring."

"I can handle jarring," Trunks said. He turned to Piccolo. "I'm certainly willing to give it a try."

"When were you thinking?" Goku asked.

"No time like the present," Piccolo answered, levitating a few feet off the ground.

Trunks turned to Goku once more. Goku simply nodded his approval. Without another word, Trunks took off behind Piccolo.

Trunks landed softly on the white marble platform of the Lookout. Though he had expected to see Mr. Popo upon his arrival, he was surprised to find Gohan standing with him.

"Hey," Trunks greeted the other teenager with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"This was actually Gohan's idea," Piccolo explained.

"You've been inside before?" Trunks asked the other boy.

"No," Gohan answered, "but Krillin's told me horror stories."

"When did Krillin use it?"

"When we were all getting ready to fight . . ." Gohan trailed off, shifting his gaze over to Piccolo.

"Yes?" Trunks asked.

"When we were preparing to fight Vegeta," Piccolo said flatly.

"It was a long time ago," Gohan quickly interjected.

"I know," Trunks said calmly, hoping to diffuse the sudden awkwardness that had fallen upon their conversation. "But that still doesn't explain what you're doing here."

"Well," Mr. Popo explained, "Gohan will be joining you in the Pendulum Room."

Trunks frowned at his friend. "You really don't have to come with me. I can handle a training exercise on my own."

"I know that," Gohan said with a shrug. "It's just, this is the first time in a while I've really wanted to focus on my training."

"Fair enough," Trunks said with a smile, satisfied with the older boy's explanation. "Then let's get to it."

"Right this way," Mr. Popo said, leading the Piccolo and the two demi-Saiyans up the stairs and down the central platform of the lookout. The four of them soon found themselves in a dimly lit room, dominated by a large pendulum swinging from the ceiling above a circular, glowing red platform.

"This," Mr. Popo began as he gestured for the two teenagers to stand in the center of the platform, "is a place where past, present, and future all meet."

"Please," Trunks said with a wince, "no more time travel."

"It doesn't work like that," Piccolo assured the teenager.

"Close your eyes, slowly," Mr. Popo instructed.

Trunks shared a look with Gohan before obeying. He felt a strange, almost soothing surge of energy come over him in waves as his eyelids slipped shut. A moment later, his world went blank.