"I want you to go to the market."
"Yes mother."
"Get some milk."
"Gotcha."
"Oh and don't forget the bread." Trunks waves over his shoulder to indicate to his mother that he had heard her. He gracefully kicked himself off the ground and hovered in the air for a few seconds before taking off towards town. Bulma stands at by the door, leaning against the frame, waving at Trunks receding back.
He lands not too far from his destinations with a light 'tap' of his shoes, looking around at the city, amazed at the progress that had been made since his last visit. Most of the buildings were either still crumbled to the ground, or skeletons of what they will soon be; it was still a big improvement considering how it was only weeks ago. He also notices that the gloomy, dark atmosphere has lifted slightly, ever so slightly. Trunks begin his advances towards his destination, smiling at the weak people around him; some would offer him a weak smile in return, others simply deciding to ignore him. He finally reached the door to the small, new and improved, shop. He opened it, sounding off the small bell hanging over the door.
Trunks walked toward where he knew the milk was kept refrigerated. He saw an elderly woman standing not too far from him, holding onto a broom, swinging it back and forth over the old concrete floors. "Morning!" Trunks greets raising his arm up in a half wave. The lady looks up from her sweeping duties to glance over at the young man. "Good morning, Trunks; doing some errands for your mother?" She asks with a kind smile spread across her pale wrinkled face. "Yup, she's got me running around doing all the things she's too lazy to do," he says jokingly. "I wouldn't let you're mother hear you say that if I were you," the woman replies in a teasing tone. Trunks let out a hardy laugh. "Never, she'd have my head for sure," he says before continuing to laugh. The woman only laughs, shaking her head as Trunks returns his attention back to his errands. He opened the refrigerator that held the milk, grabbing a carton and walking back towards the front of the store, also grabbing a loaf of bread on his way up. He approached the counter and smiled at the man behind it. "Hey, son, how are you doing this fine day!" The man exclaims as he fished out a brown paper bag to put the two items in. "Just fine, sir," Trunks replies reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small blue bag. The man unfolds the brown bag, flattening the bottom before placing the milk, shortly followed by the bread inside. Trunks hands the man a few coins before gathering his bag and heading towards the door. "You take care," the old lady yells from the back of the store. "You too," he replies pushing the glass door open once again sparking the little bell to ring.
He couldn't help but smile as he takes in a deep breath. His smile only growing wider as he spots two small children across the street, playing with a dirty ball; the sound of construction echoed through the city, as the people continued their work on rebuilding society. Trunks took in one last deep breath before taking a step forward, making his way to his next destination.
"Here ya go," a tall, well-built man said sitting a medium sized box down in front of Trunks. "Be careful, though, it's really heav…" The mans words were cut off as Trunks sits his brown bag on top of the box and lifts it with such ease that he looked as if he were carrying cotton. "Thank you, mom will be pleased. Have a great day," he says with a grin and a small wave, supporting the box with one hand. The mans surprised expression not once leaving his face as he managed a half wave back. Trunks walked down the street for a few minutes, enjoying the city for a moment longer before he had to take off back home. He stopped walking once he reached the little shop he visited not too long ago, deciding it was time to head back before his mother got frustrated. He bent his knees slightly, preparing to push off the ground and begin his short journey back home, however all motion halts to a stop as something black and wavy passed him; catching the corner of his eye. Long flowing black hair disappearing around a corner: time seemed to have slowed down as his wide eyes watched the faded black tips vanish from sight. His body stayed frozen in place for what seemed like an entirety. His mouth gaped open as he stared at the space he just saw the long locks of hair he knew so well. As soon as his clouded mind returns to its normal state, he pushed himself off the ground toward the direction the shadow had taken. He rounded the corner just in time to see faded tips disappear behind a closing door. He stopped running for just a moment to stare at the door, never remembering ever seeing it there before. It was a black door, with a small clouded window that had a small sign hanging from it that read, "Closed". Trunks ignored the sigh, desperate to find out who the person was, or if they were even there. He ran up to the door and pushed it open, finding on the inside a fairly large man with his back turned toward the door. The man sensed the opened door and looked over his shoulder at the pale faced youth standing there. "Can't you read!" The man snarled as he turned around to take the few steps needed to grab the handle in order to slam the door in the boys face. "But," Trunks started, holding onto the door preventing the man from closing it. He tried to find words to explain his situation, but he didn't get the chance before the man spook again. "But nothing, if you want access you'll come during opened hours," he remarked rudely, attempting to close the door once more. "What time do you open!" Trunks yelled as the door starting closing.
"6 o'clock," came the irritated reply just before the door slammed shut.
If you notice any major errors, please let me now.