It took a lot of persuasion, tact, and convincing for Chichi to accept their guest to have her own home on their property. The compromise reached was that Trunks could sleep and shower on her own, but would share meals and housework with the Son family. Chichi took hospitality seriously and wouldn't have it any other way, even if she'd initially complained. The Son wife still grilled her guest during dinner, about her age (sixteen, almost seventeen), her education and job prospects (home-schooled, mechanical engineering), her family (my father died when I was a baby but my mother is a jack-of-all-trades engineer), her girlfriend (*choking on rice sounds*), the sword on her back (a gift)... The three had unknowingly agreed to keep Chichi in the dark about the future, Gohan and Goku's deaths and the whole time traveling situation. Gohan admired how truthful the teen seemed when answering his mother's questions all while keeping information to a strict minimum. He wanted to learn more.

After dinner, Trunks helped wash the dishes and excused herself, pretending she needed to sleep. She didn't, but she needed to take the binder off and repair the split. She turned on the radio on the news stations and got to work. In the capsules her mother had given her, alongside the tools necessary to repair her Time Machine if needed, as well as a computer and a whole lot of documentation, she found a few changes of clothes. Trunks didn't really have many outfits, so Bulma preparing it for her meant she'd considered the possibility of her kid not coming back. Just in case, eh, mother? Time travel wasn't exactly a tested science, after all. Hopefully, she'd come back only minutes after she'd left. The radio news were jarringly mundane, no evacuation orders, no missing people adverts, no militia messages. She only slept a couple of hours that night, her constant state of alertness not allowing her to have a proper full rest. She wandered out at night, in pajamas, with her sword secured on her back and found herself actually patrolling instead of enjoying the scenery and wilderness. Habits die hard. Before dawn, she was back in her temporary home, she washed and changed. Binder, capsule corp gray tee, loose black pants, the same boots, hair with a middle part. She spent half an hour foraging for berries, and by the time she came back to the Son household, breakfast was being served on the outside table, at the break of dawn.

"Tora-kun! Early bird an't you? Sit down, it's almost ready!" Chichi commented when she saw the teenager out of the woods and returned to the kitchen to continue cooking. Gohan in a white tank top and green pants and Goku in his signature orange gi were more or less helping setting the table and waiting impatiently for the food. Trunks put the basket of berries wherever she could and sat; there was no use offering Chichi any help as she'd learnt the hard way the night prior, uncomfortable with letting the Son wife do everything, Trunks' offer was forced out of the door by Chichi's deadly weapon: her frying pan.

Goku and Gohan dug in as soon as they were served, but Trunks waited for Chichi, thanked her for the food and ate with small talk about the woods, the beauty of the landscape and so on. She'd seen Gohan, her version at least, eat with such voracity before, but not these quantities. She had a Saiyan appetite but these two were black holes for anything edible. Chichi shooed her away when she offered to help with the dishes, Piccolo was there already and they were already warming up for the morning, shoo, shoo!

The first half of the morning was light practice on the front lawn of the Son property. Trunks faced Goku, Piccolo training Gohan. I remember doing that with Gohan-san. She and Goku spared lightly, getting used to one another. He corrected her guard a few times and eventually came to the same conclusion as Tenshinhan and Vegeta did when they observed her fight with Piccolo. But unlike the two older experienced fighters, Goku worded it out loud.

"Ya din't do martial arts didja?" Goku eventually plain up asked, stopping her fist with an open hand, and returning the favor.

"Not really, training was sparse, at best," she blocked with her forearm. "And mostly focused on building endurance and stamina." Got to be tough to survive their beatings.

"I mean you punch well, good fist there, elbow angle's fine, and you got to hold against Piccolo.." Gohan had told him about the sparring he'd witnessed the day before. "Position's an' guard's so bad tho, Tora. Why you don't use our size difference?" Goku remembered how he lost to the mysterious Jackie Chun so many years ago. His question was out of genuine interest rather than berating.

"The cyborgs don't do Martial arts," She deflected Goku's next punch with an open hand on his wrist and followed swiftly to elbow him in the ribs. Goku tanked it, then they got out of each other's guards. "Actually, they are both about my height, so I don't really have experience with taller or smaller fighters." She stood straight so Goku could judge her height more easily. ~165. "And they use a whole lot more ki, since they never run out of energy."

"Hmm I see. Let's take five," Goku decided, and Trunks agreed with the idea, going to fetch drinks. She walked closer to the house to grab the four bottles of water left there by Chichi, and carried them back to the older man who sat to watch his son and former rival training. She sat as well, handed him a bottle, set two aside, and opened the last one for herself.

"Son-san. What do you feel when you transform?" Trunks had to know if her issue was hers alone.

"Oh geez, like I wanna beat something up real bad?" Well that was candid, he drank a good amount of water and continued. "Only been able to do it at will for like, the past four months or so. I dunno, it's like something takes over and won't be happy until something or someone gets reduced to a pulp. Kinda scary. You too?"

"Unyielding thirst for blood and suffering, yes. I only ever get it out of my system when I'm the one being reduced into a pulp, which only gets more frustrating as you can imagine. And since my fighting options are limited... Son-san, it took all of my will power to execute Freeza and his father instead of dragging it just to satisfy the sadistic thirst. If I knew you could teleport.."

"Ya, sorry 'bout that. I'm real thankful, I missed a great fight but your call was smarter. I just get super excited for a good fight, ya get me? Isn't always what's best for the planet tho." Trunks didn't get it, she didn't like fighting, but perhaps it was a halfbreed thing. Gohan didn't like to fight either. Clearly, having a good fight was the main goal for Goku, and saving the world was just a fortunate side effect of that mentality.

"I don't really get it, but it is certainly because our worlds are so different," she looked ahead to see Gohan and Piccolo. The Namekian didn't hold back and didn't let the boy take a breather, but Trunks didn't look away from the display of brutality. It just brought back memories. "With a father and without rampaging monsters, I could see myself enjoying the ride," she admitted.

When Gohan and Piccolo took a break, she got their attention and tossed them their bottles. Gohan was more vocal in his thanks, Piccolo barely sparing a glance in lieu of gratitude.

"Gotcha, we'll change that future for sure and get you a good daddy." Goku emptied his bottle and grinned wide. "Wanna fight and get that itch scratched? I've got senzu beans so we can go all out."

"Stupid Saiyan genes," she laughed quietly and agreed, finishing her own water. "I definitely won't hold back this time."

Goku waved over at the two others to let them know they were moving locations, and he figured Piccolo and Gohan could learn from watching the fight. They flew off to a desolate colder area where they could fight without worrying about their surroundings, and Goku gave the senzu pouch to his son for safe keeping.

Years of brutal beat downs had given Trunks more resolve and more endurance, as well as surprisingly more experience with the transformation, especially when she didn't need to keep her instincts in check. Goku on the other hand had a much keener fighting awareness and technique, more experience as a fighter in general. His hits were more precise, his energy management was more effective, while hers were more powerful. In the end, Goku outclassed her. It took them a few broken ribs and busted lips on her part to finally call it quits and she conceded defeat, exhausted.

They sat with Piccolo and Gohan to debrief once healed with the senzu beans the child gave them hastily. Gohan was in awe. And the threat to come is so much stronger than this?

"You cheat, you wearing some armor," Goku pouted, wiping the blood off his nose, and pointed an accusatory finger at the torn tee of his opponent.

"You're wearing weighted clothes," she retorted, trying to deflect the subject and not correct the fact that her binder isn't in fact armor. Even if it was made from the same material as the armor Vegeta wore. At least they didn't see it for what it was, so it was fine.

"Not anymore," he corrected, cheeky. His clothes were all ripped off after all. Trunks had fought, not sparred.

"Tora. How much stronger than Son are they?" Piccolo asked. Might as well use the intel the teenager could give them now the super Saiyans properly tested each other, all out.

"Asking me to do arithmetic after this, how cruel, Piccolo-san…" Trunks wiped off the sweat of her forehead and gave it a moment. The comparison was apples to oranges, as the twins more often than not fought in sync, and had infinite energy, and couldn't be sensed. So she compared what she could. "They're about as fast as me, and I think I'm faster than you are, Son-san." Goku agreed with her assessment. "Son-san's punches hurt less than Eighteen's." She added for Piccolo. "And Seventeen is the strongest of the pair. About.. twice as strong, in raw strength." At least according to her memory of the punches the cyborgs had given her, compared to the ones she'd just received from Goku. "Also- I broke your nose, my apologies." Goku waved it off; it was no big deal. "They took that to the face. Not a dent, didn't even blink," she sighed at the humiliating memory of her last fight with the twins. "Most importantly, unlike us, they don't lose energy, and they fight together." She pulled her leg closer and rested her arm on the knee. And she had no way of knowing if the cyborgs had actually gone all out on her or Gohan. She paled at the possibility of them holding back.

Piccolo wasn't pleased, but at least the kid was being as throughout as possible. He got an idea from the last bit of information, however, and stood. "Gohan. You're going to fight Son and me, together."

Goku caught on with the plan, agreeing it was a wonderful idea, and he stood. "Alright good old round two! Tora, see ya later! Tell Chi we'll be back for dinner k?"

Trunks agreed, gave a sympathetic look to Gohan who didn't look that hot with the idea. She left him encouraging parting words for the early afternoon: "You're strong, Gohan-san, trust yourself and don't give up."

During her stay, Trunks soon found that Goku was absolutely shameless, bathing outside with his son and just, not a care in the world to show his naked body to everyone. It took all of her mental discipline to contain herself the first time it happened and keep neutral. And refusing the invitation to share the warm tub was a feat of mental strength. She got used to the weird routine for a week or so, catching a noon-nap every now and then to compensate for her little sleep at night. Repairing her binders, doing laundry, putting in some sword exercises, and exploring further the rest of the world before dawn. Seeing the past version of her desolate world, with cities full of light and life, gave her confidence that this world would remain.

The routine was pleasant. Light work in the morning, mutual observation, pushing Gohan past his limits, a few martial arts corrections, and a couple of all out spars with Goku's super Saiyan transformation. Piccolo got his rematch, and won on technique superiority. She skipped a day to do groceries with Chichi in town and help her with house chores. She even helped Gohan with math school work, ignoring the uncanny situation she'd been at his age, when Gohan tutored her. Gohan's bedroom had more or less stayed identical as well.

Not having to be alert all of the time eventually helped rest and gain better control of her instincts, and she observed that ever since she set up with the Son family, she hadn't needed to smoke. After a solid week and a half, she warned the Son family the next day she'd go to Bulma's place.

She had even noticed Piccolo was sometimes around at night, and was all too keen on keeping an eye on her nightly activities. She decided to actually approach him on the last night, and have a chat, while he was hovering over the forest where she practiced her swordsmanship in pajamas at this hour.

"Piccolo-san."

The Namekian didn't say a word, he knew the teenager had noticed him a while ago and had accepted his surveillance.

"Don't trust me much near Gohan-san, am I wrong?"

Ear twitch.

"Piccolo-san.." She flew in front of him, hands on her opposing elbows and reading through him, or rather, through what she knew of him. He grumbled something but said nothing, and just looked at the teen who looked somewhat different. Perhaps it was the striped white and blue night ensemble, barefoot, or the posture.

"Feelings do not come naturally to the likes of us, it seems.." Trunks lamented in a whisper with a slight head shake. "Piccolo-san, he knew. He loved you too." Her use of past tense was strange for the Namekian, he questioned with his eyes and frown, and Trunks decided to open up, with a meek smile, a mask to hide the hurt and uncanny. "Piccolo-san, you died when I was barely a baby, but Gohan-san.. more or less raised me, trained me like you trained him- like you are training him. What little he was able to teach me before his death came from the love you had for him. He knows. He loves you too."

The teenager was sure of it; she saw in Gohan the same behavior she herself had with her Gohan. Piccolo found words that matched his feelings on the matter. The explanation was uncanny but he accepted it at face value.

"He's a good kid."

Trunks let her smile grow more genuine, it reached her eyes.

"He is."