Trunks' Room:
"FUCK!" Trunks exclaimed loudly as he barged into his room, orange juice still dripping from his ruined suit. "That stupid woman! She seriously had to spill something on me today! Of all days; I've got an important meeting to get to and I'm going to be late because SHE had to pour fucking juice on me!"
Letting his anger out, Trunks ripped the suit from his muscular body, ignoring its screams as it was further ruined by his hate. "I guess that's what I get for giving her a chance." He scowled, but just as he was about to continue his angry mutterings, his eyes caught sight of a picture on his nightstand.
Walking over to it, he picked it up, cradling it in his hands as his eyes took in the scene. It was of his and Goten's high school graduation. He remembered that day clearly. Everyone had been there. His father, Goku, Gohan, Chichi, Videl, even little Bra, but besides all the smiling faces he still adored, there was one that stuck out to him. Standing beside him, with his arm wrapped around her fragile shoulders was his former mother, Bulma.
Trunks' face slightly softened as he stared at the picture. Her eyes were closed, and both of her arms were wrapped around him as well, the smile on her face telling anyone and everyone just how proud of him she was.
Bulma's Room:
Meanwhile, in the aftermath of their family quarrel, everyone had gone their separate ways. Vegeta had returned to his gravity chamber, ready for another long day of physical destruction; and when Bulma had moved to do the dishes, Bra made it perfectly clear to her that she deserved some rest, volunteering to take care of them for her.
After giving her daughter a loving smile and a hug, Bulma retired to her room for some well-deserved relaxation. Lying back on her bed, Bulma slowly looked around the room, her movements sad and slow. Why does it have to be this way?...
Her blue orbs scanning over her surroundings, they eventually found their way to an old photo of her family from when they were still at their youngest.
"Trunks…" She murmured as her feet carried her to the picture. Picking it up, she couldn't help feeling a wave of emotions flowing over her. There she was, baby Trunks in her arms, and with her husband's strong arm wrapped around her waist.
They were so happy then…so together… Her focus centering on Trunks' cheesy grin, his violet hair hidden by his little cap, she lost herself in the memory.
A tear now gently rolling down her cheek, Bulma immediately did the first thing that came to mind when she was sad. Pulling open her dresser drawer, she pulled out an almost full bottle of vodka, the clear liquid sloshing around in the bottle as she pulled off the cap. Tears now rolling down her face, she lifted the bottle to take a long sip when suddenly she heard it.
'Doohm! Doohm! Doohm!' The sound of heavy feet coming down the stairs. Trunks is going to work now… She seemed to wake up now from her depressed state, now lowering the bottle from her lips, she stared at it.
Her ears in the present with her angry son, and her eyes in the past with her happy one; Bulma decided that she was going to kick her addiction. She would kick it to the curb and be the strong, intelligent woman that her son needed.
Walking into the bathroom, she opened the toilet seat. Giving the nearly full bottle of vodka one last look, she poured it into the bowl, her eyes resolute. I will get better, Trunks…For you…
A/N: Come on Bulma you can do it!I hope everyone has been enjoying this story, I know I have! Please review! The next chapter will be written by yours truly!