Disclaimer: Ada is mine, but I don't own Dragon Ball Z! If I did, normal timeline Trunks wouldn't have turned into a pampered prince…snobby little shit… (Joking! But seriously, folks…)

CHAPTER FOUR

A very tired Trunks slunk down the steps of his home into the basement, tossing the keys to the aero-car on the kitchen counter as he walked by it.

"Is that you, Trunks?" he heard his mother's voice echo from somewhere down the hall.

"Yep," he called back, walking over to the kitchen table and sitting down in one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, wondering how long it would take for it to grow to his shoulders.

She would know. She'd think I'd done it because of what she said, he thought. He pushed away the little voice from the back of his mind that said, "And she'd be right!"

Moments later, Bulma walked into the kitchen, her wet blue hair thrown up into a bun atop her head. She pulled an orange out of the refrigerator and, sitting down opposite her son, commenced peeling it. A smile then crossed her face, a determined, almost vicious sort of grin, and she locked her eyes on her boy. It scared Trunks half to death. He was nineteen years old now, and he had that look burned into his mind. Bulma Brief had something she wanted to say, and she was going to do it whether it would be pleasant for him or not. She was readying her attack.

"Well, looks like lover boy made it home intact," she observed, a playful bite in her voice.

"Come off it, Mom," Trunks replied, his cheeks reddening somewhat.

"No way, kid. I want some answers. You know you've been asking for it, but I haven't been able to say a thing all evening because your girlfriend was here!" Bulma exclaimed.

"Louisa isn't my girlfriend!" he shot back at her, really not wanting to answer whatever questions she had for him.

"That's completely beside the point. I want to know when you became so interested in dating!" She popped an orange slice into her mouth and continued. "When did the son of the venerable Prince Vegeta decide to sacrifice valuable training time to take a girl out to dinner?"

He winced slightly at the scathing sarcasm coating every single word of her speech. "I just…well…Louisa had always seemed a little…interested, I guess…she made a point of talking to me every time I stopped by her mom's bakery…I thought it would be nice to acknowledge that…" He looked down at his hands. What was the point of saying anything to the one woman in the world who could see right through him?

"So, just out of the blue, you decided to ask her out- even though you haven't been on a date before in your life? Just like that?" Bulma smirked "You can't think I'm that gullible, Trunks. I mean, really…"

"Look, just drop it, alright?" he asked, a tiny hint of desperation in his voice. "I mean, why does it matter? What about that old employee of yours, the one who comes by every once in a while to see if there are any good repair jobs out there? Well, his son's got a thing for Ada, and they were talking…you don't bother her about her personal life."

Bulma's eyes widened slowly, and her evil grin morphed into a look of realization before turning into a smile again. She slammed the orange peel in her right hand down on the table excitedly as though she'd just solved the world's toughest puzzle.

"So that's what this is about!" she exclaimed. Trunks looked at her, taken aback by the sudden outburst. "How did I not see it before? I can't tell you how many times Yamcha tried playing that game with me after he and I split…"

"What are you talking about?" Trunks inquired, rubbing the bridge of his nose. It was late. It had been a long night. He needed some sleep. And yet here was his mother, trying to pry into his love life…

"You just want to make Ada jealous because you're jealous!" Bulma informed him knowingly. "It's one of the oldest tricks in the book. And it makes sense, I suppose. What else could you possibly see in that Louisa girl? I know that you're not one to judge solely on looks-"

Trunks, choosing to ignore his mother's embarrassing rambling, had risen from his chair. "Look, Mom, I'm really tired. I'm just going to go to bed. See you tomorrow."

"Huh? Oh, alright then. But don't think you can weasel out of admitting it! We both know I'm right," she said with a wink and a smile. "And happy birthday, kiddo."

And with that, the young warrior walked to his room, pulled off his clothes, and threw himself onto the bed. He spent the next hour doing his utmost to push his mother's barrage of questions (and answers) from his mind. He tried to concentrate on the next day; he would be getting back into his training regiment and needed to focus, to clear his mind.

Louisa's a nice enough girl. I like her. I asked her out because I like her…

He drifted off to sleep, less convinced of his motives than he had been of anything in his life.

xxx

The ball the next month was as grand as any event in an unkempt, hotel basement conference room could possibly be. The space was small, but with only about 130 people altogether in attendance, it seemed more cozy than anything. Midnight blue tablecloths and decorations accompanied by crystal vases full of white roses gave the gala the touch of elegance needed to send everyone there into a state of peaceful forgetfulness of circumstance and reality.

To Bulma's surprise, the class and loveliness of the guests actually complemented the beauty of the ballroom. With most stores having been closed for years, people had gotten creative with their wardrobe. Women wore gowns pulled from boxes stuffed away in sheds and accessorized with old costume jewelry. Truly, the joy in the room was like a spoonful of sugar to the medicine that all of them had to swallow each day, over and over.

Showing off her favorite red evening gown, the lovely Ms. Brief had little time to take a breath between speaking with old employees and seeing that food and drinks were in order. She had not been so positively radiant in years, and the glow about her face seemed to wipe a decade away from her features.

Trunks, meanwhile, had stepped into the room with a very giddy Louisa on his arm. Looking smart and terribly handsome in a tuxedo complete with black bowtie, he scanned the room for his mother. She appeared to be having a wonderful time catching up with some old friends, so he looked over at his date. The bright-eyed girl had nearly squealed with delight when they arrived at the gala, and she now tugged on Trunks' arm excitedly.

"Ohhhh, let's dance, Trunks! Come on!" she peeped, pulling him toward the dance floor and simultaneously trying not to trip over her large royal blue ball gown. He looked at her rather sheepishly before giving in and then, after she had turned and begun walking towards the waltzing couples, surveyed the room as though expecting something. With an almost undetectable sigh and frustrated frown, Trunks gave up and followed Louisa.

xxx

After an afternoon of Bulma tugging, brushing, curling, pinning, and hair spraying her black locks, Ada felt exhausted. Bulma had finally finished the girl's hair, deciding on an elegant but somewhat informal up-do. Ada spent the proceeding hour trying to get her makeup just right but, even after all of the agonizing, simply settled on her usual light and airy look. The finishing touch was her dress, one of Bulma's mother's old ball gowns. With the glow of youth and bloom of Ada's loveliness, Bulma likened the young woman to a glamorous cinema star of the Golden Age (which Ada thought was taking it a bit too far: "It's really very pretty, but it's just a dress…"). The dress was a white, strapless piece, its movie-palace fabric rows adorned here and there with diamond-like crystals. Bulma had no doubt that Ada, with her fair skin and dark features, would be turning heads at the ball.

And yet the girl had not even entered the room. She was instead sitting up against a wall in a corridor around the corner from the entrance, fingering the hem of her gown.

She had been so excited about the evening, so thrilled at the idea of going to a special event like, she assumed, people used to do before the androids arrived. Now, she could not help but consider it terribly absurd. They were living in a world of makeshift homes built in underground shelters, of food shortages, of injury and death. Her mother's greatest dream for her older brother had been that he get into a renowned university and eventually earn a doctorate. In the world Ada inhabited, she had not even been to a real school since she was ten. Sure, she was an extremely bright girl who, Bulma often correctly observed, could have done whatever she wanted with her life if circumstances had not been what they were.

But that was just it. If. It was always 'if'. The more Ada contemplated this ridiculous ball, the more it became another 'if'. We could have a Capsule Corporation employee ball if Capsule Corporation even existed anymore…if people had the money to buy food, let alone dozens of roses to decorate tables…if more children were not being orphaned every day…Ada began to laugh bitterly. They were having an extravagant dance while many people were, at that very moment, praying that their injured family members might survive or that there would be a roof over their heads the next day.

Her laughter ceased as she considered that the people at the ball were compassionate people. Their plights were the same as everyone else's. There was no rich or poor any longer. They were all suffering in the same way. So why was it that all of the employees and their spouses were eating, drinking, talking, and dancing? Why were they able to enjoy themselves while Ada felt nothing but bitterness and dejection? Was there something else nagging at her? She searched her thoughts briefly before squeezing her eyes shut. No. She was just in a strange mood. That was certainly all.

Ada sighed. She knew that Bulma would be looking for her sooner or later; she was going to have to go in. Standing up and straightening her dress, she felt a pang of regret coupled with embarrassment at walking into the ballroom alone.

xxx

Absolutely shocked by how well the hotel staff had done with the ballroom, Ada could not help but smile. It was all so lovely. She immediately spotted Bulma, who proceeded to introduce Ada to several old employees and their spouses. That, in fact, was how Miss Son spent the next hour, stealing searching glances at the dance floor from time to time but otherwise pasting on a courteous smile and conversing with those who were not the dancing type.

Trunks, who had finally convinced Louisa to take a break from twirling and fox-trotting around the dance floor, was chatting with his mother as she pointed out people who he recognized from his childhood when they had worked in the Capsule Corporation complex.

"Trunks, sweetie," Louisa said, her voice filled to the brim with sugar, "I'm going to go get us some drinks! Back in a minute!"

He reddened as she pecked him on the cheek. Sweetie? he mused. I've only gone out with her a few times…

"Doesn't it look fantastic in here?" Bulma asked as she looked around, her hands on her hips.

"It really does, Mom. I never would have put someone up to the task of turning this place around, but I've got to admit that it really came together," he responded, looking over her shoulder. Bulma followed his gaze and turned around to see Ada talking with several of the guests. She frowned.

"I really wish she would dance with someone. We went through all of that trouble to get her ready for tonight, and she's done nothing but talk," Bulma sighed. "At least she looks like a million bucks, anyway."

"Maybe her date doesn't like to dance," he guessed.

Bulma looked at her son in confusion. "What are you talking about, Trunks?"

"Her date. The Masao kid. Maybe he's not much for dancing," he explained.

"You mean Niku's son?"

"Yeah, the one who asked her to be his date tonight," Trunks affirmed.

"Well," Bulma explained, still a bit confused about her son's having misunderstood the situation, "she turned him down, Trunks."

"What?" he asked, unwelcome surprise etching itself all over his face.

"She told him that she couldn't go with him," she said matter-of-factly. "Why on earth not, I still don't really understand. Sure, the kid's a tad egotistical, but he seems nice enough, and he's handsome and seems to really like Ada." Bulma shrugged her shoulders and then turned to walk toward one of the waiters who was awaiting her instructions about how many hors d'oeuvre trays to send around the room.

"Maybe," Bulma said nonchalantly, the grin she wore as she faced the opposite way invisible to her son, "she had someone else on her mind."

Trunks stood there dumbstruck as his date returned and promptly clung to his arm, sipping punch and begging him to dance again.

xxx

"Chi Chi! Hello honey! It's me!" shouted the familiar husky voice of the Ox King as he walked into the door of the Son residence, arms full of bulging grocery bags. His daughter looked up from her knitting with a smile. Her father had been staying with them for the last couple of weeks, an annual tradition of his since Gohan was a boy.

"Ah, a wise man bearing groceries. Come in," she replied kindly.

"I don't know about wise, but I did remember the honeydew melon, and ketchup, and the potatoes for my french fries," Ada heard her grandfather reply. The thirteen-year old had been sitting patiently in the hallway, trying to lure a particularly intelligent spider down to her level from the ceiling. She was on a mission to get rid of the thing once and for all, swearing that if she had to listen to her mother scream and run through the house one more time, she was going to jump off a cliff.

"Oh," Ox added, "and I heard a rumor about Gohan."

"Gohan?" Chi Chi asked with worry, setting her knitting needles on the table. "Please, tell me he's alright, Dad!"

"Oh, he's just fine, dear, but it seems he's been taking it upon himself to challenge the androids lately from what I hear."

"What am I going to do with that boy?" Chi Chi asked herself, walking over to a shelf upon which sat a picture frame. "There's no talking him out of it."

"Try not to worry about it, hun. I know it's hard," he said reassuringly as his daughter picked up the photograph, an old one taken of the Son family when Gohan was no more than four years old. Ada, no stranger to the art of eavesdropping, had abandoned her arachnid pursuit and peered around the corner into the living room.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost him, Dad. He's all I have left."

Ada frowned, choking back what promised to be a rush of tears. That was how her mother talked sometimes when she thought the girl wasn't around. She spoke as though the younger of her children didn't even exist, and it broke Ada's heart. The child knew her mother didn't mean it in a hurtful way, of course, and understood instead that the woman who had been Chi Chi was gone, that that life was over. Whoever her mother was now and whatever made her get up every morning, Ada knew, was only a shadow, a façade. Ada cringed at the knowledge that she was a product of that 'second' life, of the shell that her family had become after her father's death. That she had never gotten the chance to experience anything else made Ada feel as though she had been shorted. Fate had cheapened her existence by no choice of her own.

xxx

Postscript:Phew! These chapters just keep getting longer and longer! I didn't want to break this one into parts, though. The way I'm churning this story out probably makes you think that I have no life, which is only half true. Normally, I do indeed have one, but it's summer, and college was tough this past year. Thus, I'm spending my nights typing away! Thank you for the continued reviewing, CRdragonPyro! I'm glad to hear that you like where I'm taking it. I worry sometimes that the bits about Ada's and Trunks' relationship are too forward and cheesy, but, hell, I don't want to see them be lonely for too terribly long. Besides, there are so many things ahead of them… Anyway, as always, please review! Ask questions, critique me, all that- I would love to hear from you! Ah yes, and the dialogue in the flashback isn't mine. It comes from The History of Trunks English dub. Thank you, Funimation!