"You too have become a delinquent!" Chichi lamented seeing the long hair loosely tied in a low ponytail. The yellow hoodie, the blue jacket, the loose gray pants and her favorite boots didn't help, giving the time traveler a sort of street look.
"Me too?" Trunks questioned the statement in confusion, looking at Chichi who walked out of the house seeing a car approach and having recognized the time traveler.
"Goku-sa and Gohan-chan both came back with bleached hair! And they don't want to drop it, even at home. And now look at you with that hair!" The woman complained, but didn't really scold; she had no choice and no voice in the matter and had already been told so.
"Oh, Mother will cut it once I go back to my world, Chichi-san. I assure you I am still mostly the same person.. and so are they." She took out the large basket of produce from the car and walked towards the house with Chichi. "Bulma-san gave me these for you."
Chichi appreciated the gift, dropping the subject of delinquent looks, and invited Trunks into the house so she could sort the produce. Trunks then went back out to retrieve the sword, then capsulized her car to put it away in its rightful spot in the capsule case. No sign of Gohan or Goku in the estate.
"They're out fishing," Chichi, after refusing Trunks' help, explained while the younger one was standing outside and looking at the scenery, seemingly trying to localize them.
Trunks acknowledged the information. She offered to do something in the meantime but Chichi refused, so Trunks just enjoyed the peaceful scenery until the two Sons came back with absolutely gigantic fish for dinner, a little after her arrival. It was strange seeing Gohan and Goku wearing something other than their gis. Again Chichi refused help preparing the meal, so the three got to hang out outside, sitting in the grass, Trunks having unclipped her sword to let the hilt rest on her shoulder, her hand on the scabbard.
They chatted idly in the meantime, somewhat relaxed and putting aside the impending doom. Gohan thanked his friend for the fishing rods, which were the ones they had used that day, and Goku acknowledged they were good rods. Simple and sturdy. Trunks appreciated the praise but couldn't take credit.
Dinner was pleasing and uneventful, despite the uncanny feeling of seeing the two others doing everything in super Saiyan. They conquered the anxious feeling that came with the form, were relaxed, and Trunks couldn't help but admire the pair and relax by proxy. Trunks happily tried the fish, she'd never had similar meat before, but was reasonable in her portions while Gohan claimed his father knew all of the best fishing spots. Chichi refused her help with the dishes, the family insisting she drop 'Son-san' once and for all. Worse, they insisted Trunks should stay the night since it was dark already. She tried to refuse, stating she could fly back or use her capsule house just fine, and had been perfectly fine being autonomous, but the three of them insisted, especially now that they knew who she was; basically family. Gohan, seemingly looking forward to his first sleepover, ended up getting her to accept, and before she knew it, a futon was set up in his room for her, complete with a towel, washing cloth, covers and bed sheets. She was offered pajamas too but she said she had her wardrobe in a capsule and would be using her own.
Gohan was happy to show Tora his bedroom again, and how it changed since the last time they were in, about three (or four) years ago. Tora dropped his sword on the futon, removed and folded his jacket, and sat on his right at the desk to see the new and old study books. Tora was polite and interested, reading with him and talking through problems and study materials together. This was much more fun than it had been with Chichi or with the one tutor that used to discipline him physically. Tora praised his mind and how he thought things through, and Gohan was proud.
"It's true learning by teaching works best," Gohan remarked, happy to act as Tora's teacher for some materials. "Tora-san, you act well as a pupil with questions who doesn't know these things."
Tora got flustered and looked away, and Gohan was surprised to hear his answer. "It isn't an act. I was only really good at math, when I actually studied."
Gohan realized his mistake and got embarrassed, mumbling an apology. The Flora and Fauna books were pushed away, but the older teenager put his hand on Gohan's.
"I always liked learning with Gohan-san, and I like it just as much with you, you make it interesting and fun. You'll be a great scholar," and Gohan only saw sincerity and restraint in the blue eyes he finally met. It must have been so uncanny for Tora, who had known an adult version of himself, an adult version who had died protecting him. Gohan went back to the books, since Tora wanted to continue, and they worked through some plant life cycles before he finally dared to ask what he'd been pondering for a year at this point.
"Tora-san, can I ask you about the me you knew?" Gohan kind of regretted asking so he quickly amended: "Only if you're comfortable, I don't want to cause you pain.."
Tora didn't close up. He could have refused, but he'd been so friendly and open with him, comparatively to how reserved and distant he was with everyone else.
"It's important you become your own person, Gohan-san.." That was the condition.
"I understand he's not me," Gohan confirmed it was clear in his mind, despite it being just so strange. Truth he was interested in his alternate self because of his relation with Tora, their friendship, their bond.
"Then it's fine." Tora had agreed with a soft look, and Gohan smiled bright, appreciating the trust even more so.
"Did you and Gohan-san study together often?" As odd as it was using his own name to talk about someone else, it made the most sense to do it this way.
"He sometimes tutored me with some of these books, actually," Tora reached to pull an old geography book from the shelf above the desk. "I believe in this one, Gohan-san drew Piccolo-san." Gohan got red, knowing it was true, he had drawn in the book and nobody ever knew.
Well, almost nobody. He had drawn that doodle sometime between his return from Namek and his father's return. He couldn't stop Tora from flipping through the pages to find the idle scribble with a knowing smile, and Gohan got even more embarrassed. A serious faced Piccolo, arms crossed, with the turban, and with long ears, colored in green, somewhat inside the lines. Far from an accurate representation of the Namekian, as five-ish year-old Gohan was no artist, the alien was still unmistakable.
"I ended up drawing him next to his scribble." Tora remembered fondly, indicating a spot next to the Piccolo doodle, over the boring flavor text describing the differences between plateaus, cliffs and mounts, then closed and put the book away.
Gohan took note to hide his most recent scribbles, because he drew a lot while waiting for the Cyborgs to appear, and he also drew when his dad was sick and his mom kept him sequestered or grounded before he went into the Room of Spirit and Time. And he drew Tora a lot.
"You and Gohan-san were really close, weren't you?" Was it jealousy? They were and weren't the same person. Tora put an elbow on the desk and rested his chin on his hand, hair tangled in his fingers. The question seemed to have a complicated answer.
"We were allies, but we didn't see each other often and he mostly kept to himself. Being half-breeds, the sole two descendants of an extinct species, living under constant threat, powerless... I guess we were both bewildered from everyone else."
Gohan saw the other close his eyes and sigh.
"Despite his refusal, I still chased after him, to get to know him, to learn how to fight and be useful. Against his wishes, and Mother's, too. I was angry, lonely, misunderstood and stubborn. A combination of both of my parents' worst traits."
When he opened his eyes to meet Gohan's, Tora had a slight smile on his face.
"My heart wants to say 'yes, we were close', and while we were physically inseparable, the truth is that I only somewhat understood who he was after his death."
Gohan listened with attention. He valued how Tora explained things, he was so brave and strong, and he still didn't treat him like a child. He didn't simplify, he didn't sugarcoat.
"It's a little like how I understood Piccolo-san's feelings when he protected me against Nappa.." Gohan mused out loud.
"In a way. Gohan-san never told me how he obtained super Saiyan, but seeing you and Piccolo-san when I stayed over in 764… Well, I saw myself and Gohan-san in you two."
Gohan understood the message. He thought about Tora's world and the order of its events, and how that version of Gohan lived through them. Losing his father to the heart virus, then having the monsters appear out of nowhere without prior warning. And everyone dying, except for Gohan, Bulma, and the baby.
"Piccolo-san's death was why Gohan-san transformed, but he probably didn't rush to combat…" That version of him hadn't fought the initial battle, else he probably wouldn't have survived either, which meant he was late, or...
"I believe Piccolo-san took the necessary measures to protect him." Tora added, agreeing with the deduction.
"And Gohan-san did the same for you.." Gohan whispered. The cycle repeated itself. Tora had also done the same thing, for him, when he told, or rather, ordered him to go with Bulma, Yajirobe and the baby, that morning of May 12th. Tora removed him from battle preemptively.
"Seeing it all with a more mature mind, I now realize many things about Gohan-san, his pain and loneliness, and with the prowess of my presence in your world, I can only insist on how I don't want you to ever go through what he went through."
"I understand," Gohan assured with a bright smile. His transformation had come under different circumstances, and with Goku still alive, there was hope, and everyone was so much stronger and prepared. Despite Cell.
"Say, Tora-san… Did Gohan-san grow taller than dad?" The time traveler chuckled, the childish question bringing back memories.
"Mother mentioned Gohan-san was taller than Goku-san by a few centimeters. He kept teasing me about how short I was at your age, too, so the answer is yes."
"You got taller than Vegeta-san in the end," Gohan remarked.
"Bulma-san is taller than Vegeta-san," Tora added with a playful wink, and Gohan chuckled quietly at the truth-jab; he thought Vegeta was taller, but now he thought about it, perhaps it was just the hair... "I believe Gohan-san was 180cm or so, which is ten centimeters taller than me right now."
"What did he look like?"
Tora thought about it for a moment, where to start, how to describe.. Gohan got scared when the teenager looked away, then stood and went to his jacket. He thought about apologizing, changing the subject, but the ki he felt was still calm and peaceful. Tora came back with his wallet, held it in his hands a moment, then opened it and pulled out a photo from it, giving it a fond look and then sliding it on the desk for Gohan to look at.
This alternate version of him was laying on his back in a couch that had seen better days, shirtless, the stump on his left arm still healing, with a younger version of Tora laying on him, snuggling under his right arm, with a little silver sparkly cone pinned in his lavender hair. The two asleep, at peace, half-covered by a blanket. The scar over his left eye reminded Gohan of Yamcha's scar (over his right eye). He also had short hair, shorter than what Gohan currently had as his father only cut off the length at the back. He could see the similarities between him now, and this older version, but Tora's peaceful expression was something he hadn't seen before.
"This was in November 779, he was twenty-one." Tora anticipated the question.
"And you turned thirteen." Gohan breathed out, and the time traveler confirmed, letting Gohan have another look at the precious memento. The photo had been laminated for safekeeping, but the corners had suffered. Gohan remembered the scribbled dates on the timeline and their discussions about super Saiyan and how Tora had gotten it in 780.
"My birthday, yes." Tora confirmed, the little party hat was proof enough.
"You really liked him, didn't you?" Gohan had to observe, seeing the proximity the two had in that picture, despite how complex their 'closeness' was. He remained attentive of his friend's ki and mood. Tora might have accepted answering his questions, but that didn't mean he would abuse the privilege.
"I did," Tora admitted freely, not shy about meeting the younger halfling's gaze. "Still do. He was my only friend, and everyone's hero." His voice was calm. It was still something deeply personal, but the young adult was willing to share more and confide in this version of Gohan, bare-hearted. "He humored me, even when I was only a clingy brat," pointing at the snuggling pair in the photo.
Humored? Gohan knew he liked being in Tora's space, hugging him too. His alternate self didn't look like he was forced into the situation against his will, how come Tora didn't see it? 'I am not him, I know that, but he was me at some point…' Gohan remembered the guilt Tora had when explaining how the man in the photo lost his arm, and his life a few months later. No, Tora was never a bother to that Gohan, Gohan was certain of it. He gave back the photo, and hesitated while Tora put it away in his wallet.
"Tora-san, can I hold you?"
A blink and a questioning look later, Gohan moved back his chair a little to face the other and a gesture later, the intent of a hug was clear. Tora showed approval, and Gohan stood to come and hug him close before he could stand. The younger halfling was happy to breathe in more of that scent he'd grown fond of, the total absence of tobacco only making it more special.
Gohan noted how Tora wasn't tense when touched, he was trusting and held him back. Gohan gave a rub on the back over the yellow hoodie, noticing the teen still wore the thicker armor underneath, and gently touched the hair, the older's forehead resting against his shoulder. That Gohan must have hugged Tora a lot, Gohan deduced from how physically close he allowed him to be, and judging from the photo and his words about being clingy and inseparable. 'Do you let me in your space because I am a version of Gohan-san?'' Despite his words to separate the two, why did Tora accept him so close, and even returned the affections? 'No, he knows I'm not him, not anymore, he likes me for me as my own person.' Gohan chased the doubts and fears away. There was no use thinking about such things that didn't matter.
"Tora-san, you were never a bother, he came to celebrate your birthday with you," he tightened the hold just a little when he felt the other tense, as if to protest. "Like you came to celebrate mine. You look at me like how he looked at you, don't you?" A silent confirmation, and Gohan continued. "At the beginning, I felt like a bother to you, to everyone, but you eased those fears." 'Because you knew how it felt, and wanted to break that cycle. You saw your younger self in me… If anything, I'm the clingy one, and you humor me too…'
Tora held more firmly on his own accord, letting out the breath he was holding against the white silk fabric of the traditional shirt. There was no use saying anything more. In hindsight, with the information they both had, both of them knew Tora didn't consider Gohan a bother. Gohan trusted his friend, the hero that came to save his friends, his dad, and himself. They had read each other's thoughts in the diary, after all, and Tora could transfer some of his knowledge of his future self to him, all while lucid enough to know he didn't fully understand that Gohan-san. But Gohan understood his older version, through his own lense, or so he believed.
"Gohan-san didn't knock you out because he thought you were too weak, he did it because he wanted to protect you, like you wanted to protect me from Vegeta-san, from super Saiyan..." Gohan admitted, feeling bold all of the sudden, sharing his feelings and how he thinks his alternate self thought about it all.
"I realize that, now." Tora whispered against the shoulder. Gohan saw no sadness, but the loneliness, the regret, the hint of resentment still hit him.
"Like I want to protect you, and fight together with you."
Gohan pulled away to look at the other's face, Tora was reserved in his expressions, but he was calm and attentive, if only a little red in the face. His gaze kept its usual intensity. The younger held both his hands together.
"That was my answer as a half-breed, thanks to your diary. Not through anger and loss, but through the desire to protect you, and Piccolo-san, and mom and dad, and Krillin-san, to be useful… That's how I got super Saiyan," Gohan admitted. He wasn't sure if his answer was 'right', but it was his.
"I'm glad," was the answer, and it was punctuated by his hands being squeezed.
It hadn't been the discussion Gohan had planned or expected, but the result was worth it. Tora wasn't uncomfortable with the clinginess, and even allowed himself to reach out sometimes. Even if eventually, the time had come for Gohan to yawn, well past bedtime.
Trunks excused herself to the bathroom after taking her capsule case; she needed to change out of the binder for the night. Spending a full night with Gohan was not something she truly wanted, especially considering she didn't sleep through the night by choice, but somehow, the relaxing household and the reassuring bright nature of this version of her mentor put her at ease enough to actually consider it. She was happy her chest hadn't grown that much more, so with a skin tight tank top and her loose pajamas, under the cover of night time, she believed it would be fine.
She kept in mind how to keep her promise to fight alongside Gohan, especially with Cell's rules of fighting everyone one on one. Not that rules made by monsters mattered, but because of the potential retaliation. She, and everyone else, needed to play Cell's arrogance to their advantage, and not be stupid about it. But she wasn't the best at coming up with such a plan. Hopefully they'd take the situation seriously. Her talk with Gohan hadn't saddened her, she believed she'd be struck with grief and bad memories, but it hadn't been the case. She had accepted Gohan's death and his impact on her life, and had slowly accepted the value of his sacrifice. She wasn't mourning anymore, the pain was locked away, all because she had met this past version of him who kept her grounded, and understood the mission she'd been entrusted. 'He isn't you, but this Gohan will achieve his goals, and through them, a world of peace will be achieved. You're proud, aren't you, Gohan-san?'
She knocked back on Gohan's bedroom to know if he was done changing, and he was. The boy was ready to sleep in underwear and a tee that certainly belonged to his father. Something about his old pjs not fitting him anymore was mentioned, especially with the late spring heat. The window was left open, and despite the lights being turned off, the two could see everything just fine thanks to the star lights. Mount Paozu had the clearest night sky.
After untying her hair, Trunks slid under the sheets of the futon, laying on her side, holding her sword against her and facing Gohan's bed. He'd scooted closer to the edge of his bed and was facing her too, so they could see each other.
"You sleep with your sword, Tora-san?"
"Mhm.." she confirmed. "A bad habit of mine, I guess. It's a little childish, but I feel safer knowing it's in my hands. I realized I missed it when I was in the Room of Spirit and Time with Vegeta-san, because I left it at Capsule Corp. I didn't want to risk breaking it further with Vegeta-san," she admitted and rolled to lay on her back, pulling the sword on top of her under the bedsheets.
"It broke?" Gohan sounded alarmed.
"Yes, when I attacked Eighteen. It's somehow repaired now, I noticed it when I was in the Room with Piccolo-san and Tenshinhan-san." Trunks still hadn't uncovered that mystery, and if the sword knew, the item kept its secrets. Not like it spoke, anyway.
"Well that's weird.. Say, it's a special sword, isn't it?"
"Yes, but that story would take hours," she smiled seeing Gohan try to repress another yawn. "I will tell you another time, promise."
"I remember your sleep pattern from your diary… Will you sleep through the night?" Gohan was worried. What he knew about sleep meant that wasn't possibly healthy.
Trunks hesitated. She didn't set her alarm yet, but with Gohan there, perhaps… "It's hard for me, long cycles tend to give me nightmares."
"I have nightmares too, they can get scary," Gohan admitted as well in a whisper. After a little moment, he shifted under his covers and pushed his arm on the side of the bed, freeing his hand and extended it shyly.
Trunks rolled back on her left side, keeping the sword against her, and moved closer to the edge of the futon towards the bed to take the offered hand.
"Then we will fight them together," she wanted to sound reassuring, but she was the one reassured. Those nights with her version of Gohan were usually longer and nightmare-free.
And that night was indeed nightmare-free, but old habits die hard. Trunks naturally woke up on her own several times during the night, long enough to question where she was and why there was something holding her fingers (Gohan eventually pulled her hand under his covers in his sleep, but she'd slept in worse positions so it was fine). Eventually she accepted the slumber claiming her back the first couple of times, but something caught her attention in the wee hours of the morning, long before dawn if her watch was to be believed. Gohan was relaxed, so she managed to retrieve the abducted hand-turned-plushie, slipped out of bed, leaving the sword in the sheets. After she fixed a couple of pajama buttons, she silently got out of the room.
Goku was snoring in the couple's bedroom, she heard him while in the little hallway, but the bathroom light was on, and she recognized Chichi's ki which spiked a little, and from the sounds of it, she was sick, and trying to keep it quiet. The water ran and she heard a little whimper. Trunks frowned, the woman had worked so hard with dinner and dishes, and refused help, she should have insisted on taking over instead of letting Chichi chase her out. When the wife opened the door, the two saw each other disheveled, in pajamas, and seemingly tired. Chichi held back a yelp and covered her mouth in surprise, and Trunks just got closer to whisper.
"Chichi-san, is everything ok?"
"Yes of course," Chichi lied, and Trunks just shook her head no, Chichi was a terrible liar. "I'll get myself a drink, it'll be better in the morning, Trunks-kun, go back to sleep." She sounded exhausted, her face had just been washed, and when she tried to walk, her knees were weak. Trunks put her hands on the woman's shoulders, gently, then walked downstairs with her, holding her hand, the other arm ready to catch her.
"I'll make your drink," she decided. "Tisane? Warm milk?"
"I can do it myself." Chichi asserted, but Trunks didn't budge, sat her down on the couch and grabbed a shawl for the exhausted mother to wrap herself into. "Warm milk with a little honey," she finally accepted the offer, and Trunks went to make it. Finding both ingredients wasn't too complicated, the Son wife was organized in the kitchen, and the stove was simple enough to work with.
When the drinks were ready, and after washing the pot, Trunks got back to the living room. She put a second mug on the side table of the couch, and helped Chichi hold hers. Somehow the fierce woman looked weak, weaker than even the version Trunks had seen of her in her world, and uneasy. Clearly she hadn't wanted to be caught sick. Chichi drank her milk in one go, with a pleased sigh, it eased her throat, and Trunks happily offered the second one.
She, Gohan and Goku hadn't been sick, so it probably wasn't the food, although she couldn't completely discard it, considering Chichi was the only full-blooded earthling and Saiyans could eat whatever. No, hiding sickness wasn't in character for her, and food poisoning was unlikely considering how good of a cook Chichi was.
When Chichi took the second drink to savor it, Trunks saw how she held herself. And then Trunks glanced back at the stairs and how Chichi walked down, holding her hand for balance, while the other held her stomach. Or rather, her lower stomach. She got a little closer, and discarded menstrual pain (no smell of blood, which she had recognized in her world under awkward circumstances).
"I'm fine now, thank you Trunks-kun." Chichi tried to reassure, somewhat intimidated by the intense gaze of the longhaired teen who stared right through her. She put down the second empty mug.
She had never really been on nurse duty, but Chichi was a healthy woman with no bad habits. She got closer, eyeing the housewife's stomach. Perhaps she moved a little too much like a predator, as Chichi put back her hand on her lower stomach, and slowly tried to move away.
She knew. And Trunks knew she knew. Trunks looked back up to her eyes and moved back with wide eyes.
"You're preg-"
"Sshhhhhh!" Chichi hushed and put her hand on Trunks' mouth to stop those words from coming out.