Trunks was hiding something. Trunks Jr. had been able to see it in his father since that morning, but he was being just secretive enough for it to have remained a mystery throughout the day. Bo was coming over that night, which he already knew. They were finally going to take the Capsule tour he'd promised, but that that had been set up a while ago. Every time he asked if there was some other plan for the extra-long, school holiday weekend, his father simply shrugged and smiled in a peculiar way. Trunks Jr. might've been young, but he already knew that half smirk on Trunks' face and his non-answer was a tell that there was something he was keeping to himself.
He couldn't imagine it was anything too exciting; they already trained with each other a lot, played games, watched movies, and talked about building new tech together – they'd even hung out with Pan a couple of times and did stuff he rarely got to do back when it was just the two of them, all in the name of "family time". They were already regularly doing everything he considered "fun". If there was something new to do that was worth the surprise, he didn't have a clue what it could be.
It was already late afternoon by the time Bo got out of school and could start heading towards Metro West. He'd sent a message when he was on his way, letting him know Pan was coming by for just a little while too. It wasn't a family night, which added even more to the mystery, but it wasn't exactly weird for her to be stopping by either, as she'd come with Bo when he switched houses for the weekend a few times. He couldn't find any concrete evidence, but his suspicion that something was up had been so well confirmed by that point, he'd be disappointed if it turned out to be just an ordinary day.
He was almost done with his homework when he sensed their kis; his patience had grown so thin by then, he closed his book immediately and ran outside to greet them, leaving some of his work unfinished. His day-long hunch was even further confirmed the moment he saw them. Bo's normally bright smile was almost blazing across his face, and he and Pan were both carrying items that weren't normal for them to have.
Pan was holding a small satchel under her arm, and Bo had a tube strapped by a rope to his back. As soon as Bo landed, he pulled the tube around and started to hand it to him, but Pan placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
"Maybe we should go inside first," she said with a laugh at the expense of her son's eagerness. "I'm sure your dad will want to see what we brought."
Trunks Jr. looked quizzically at his brother, but Bo grabbed his arm and pulled him back through the door with such impatient force that he was almost dragging him.
"Dad!" Bo yelled at the top of his lungs, trying to summon him into the room as quickly as possible.
Pan grimaced, swearing she'd actually seen the walls shake. Trunks came in rubbing his ear. "Okay – you're here – I get it," he said.
"What's going on?" Trunks Jr. finally asked. "You've been hiding something all day and now everyone is acting weird."
Trunks smiled and met Pan's eyes. She nodded, silently indicating he should be the one to break the news.
"Pan and I talked about it," he said slowly, "and – we've agreed to let you take classes at the dojo – if you still want to."
The boy's eyes grew wide. "Really?" he asked with a happy, shocked smile, looking between both adults.
Before he'd met Bo, he'd been asking for formal training incessantly, specifically requesting Satan Dojo due to its connection to his hero. Trunks would've thought his son's desperate desire would have been at least partially sated by meeting the dojo master herself and receiving secondhand instruction from Bo, but that only seemed to highlight what he was missing by never having formal classes. Trunks figured part of why he wanted to join a dojo was the social aspect, but that made him nervous, given his son's infamous lack of patience and constraint. However, over time, Trunks came to realize his chaotically-natured child was looking for structure too, and he decided he was willing to compromise in hopes it would help him gain a little more control over his emotions and power. Of course, it also helped to know Pan and Bo would both be there to keep things from getting too out of hand.
Pan opened her satchel, pulling out a folded gi and a white belt. "Your classes are going to be a bit different than what other students go through. Since you already have a martial arts background, we're going to start you at white, but it'll be an accelerated program. Bo and I are going to make sure you catch up to him quickly - so you can be each other's sparring partner. Also, your dad thinks it's a good idea that you still train in the style our families know, so he doesn't want you and Bo to hyper-focus on what you pick up in class. It's supposed to give you a well-rounded education – not replace what you already know."
He carefully took the garment from her as though she was handing him gold. Trunks didn't entirely understand his son's reaction, as though this was the first and best gi he'd ever owned. He already had plenty of gis, in a lot of different colors – but he supposed the embroidered "Satan Dojo" logo on the back made it "official" and a little more exciting to the young superfan.
"When can I start?" he asked elatedly.
Pan and Trunks made eye contact once again. There had obviously already been a discussion about this. "Well, we need to go over some ground rules – and make sure you're ready for your first class," Pan answered.
"You have a history of taking out your anger on other kids," Trunks said carefully. He wasn't trying to embarrass him or convict him of anything at that moment, but he also felt strongly about reminding him of the incident that had nearly gotten him kicked out of school the year before. Bo had done a lot to help him focus his violent energy in a productive way, but that old behavior wasn't that far in the past. "Pan's dojo has a rule that says if you're caught fighting outside of a spar, you're automatically expelled. That includes fights at school or around town. It's very, very important that you understand your relationship with the Sons doesn't make you exempt from that or any other rule the dojo has."
A line of pink appeared on his cheeks as he looked down at the ground. Trunks knew he already felt embarrassed about the events that had happened in the last couple of years, but shame alone wouldn't keep it from happening again. "I understand," he said firmly, answering his father's concern.
Pan smiled. "We'll go over all the other rules with you a little later. We have some time before the next cohort starts anyway."
"There's something else," Bo said excitedly. He looked up at his mother who nodded with permission. The tube he'd been carrying opened with a *pop* and he pulled out a long, curled paper.
"What is this?" Trunks asked legitimately. He wasn't clued in on this surprise like he was the other one, and Bo was almost giddy with excitement as he handed his brother the mysterious roll.
Trunks Jr. uncurled the paper and froze. His mouth fell slightly open and water gathered in his eyes almost instantly.
"What is it?" Trunks repeated, wondering what could've inspired actual tears so quickly.
"It's a nicer version of the promotional poster for Mr. Satan's first championship that's above my bed," he said in awe, "and it's been autographed!"
"It was autographed on the night of the fight," Bo corrected.
"Why…?" Trunks Jr. started, unable to finish.
"Bo wanted to get you something to celebrate your induction into the dojo," Pan explained. "This has been hanging in the dojo hall for a while, and – we thought this might get more appreciation if it stayed with you. We also thought this might make up for some missed birthdays."
"This is too much," Trunks said. He might not have the same appreciation for Mr. Satan that his son or most of the rest of the world did, but he knew a signed poster was no longer something you could easily acquire. Now that the champion was gone, everyone who had any autographed paraphernalia was hoarding it, and the rare items one could find for sale cost a fortune and/or turned out to be fakes.
"It's fine," Pan said casually. "It's not like we don't have plenty of other posters and autographed pictures."
Trunks Jr. wiped his eyes with his sleeve and put the poster on the coffee table carefully, stepping back so he could look at it from a distance. Trunks chuckled quietly at his extreme excitement, but he was cautious not to belittle his interests. At least this hobby had a use – helping him bond with his new family.
"Aren't you going to say 'thank you'?" he asked his son. It was more than obvious Trunks Jr. was grateful, but it was a gift worth the inconvenience of snapping out of his trance to say it.
The boy exceeded expectations. He bowed deeply to both of them, and the ran up to Bo, nearly knocking him over with a giant bear hug. "Thank you!" he said exuberantly.
Bo laughed and patted him on the back. "It was really my mom's idea."
Without hesitation, he switched to Pan, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly. "Thank you Pan!" Pan blushed and froze for just a moment while she considered what to do. The top of the boy's purple head barely came up to her chest, and he was squeezing her so tightly, it was nearly taking the breath out of her lungs. She put her arms around his shoulders, lightly embracing him back.
"Alright – that's good enough," Trunks said with a chortle, gently encouraging him to let Pan go before she started turning blue.
He obeyed and grabbed his new gi in his arms. "I'm going to go try it on!" he shouted as he ran back into his room. Bo took off after him.
Pan's face was still glowing and pink as she watched them run off. Trunks crossed his arms and examined the poster they'd brought. "You – really pulled this off the wall for him?" he asked her.
"It was collecting dust in the memorial museum," she said.
"So, it was your idea."
"Bo's the one that wanted to get him something. I just thought of the 'something'." She shrugged as though it wasn't a big deal, but it was. It meant everything to his son, and she owed him absolutely nothing. She didn't have to do anything for him, including agreeing to special classes at her dojo, which would take up more of her already full schedule, but when Trunks had asked about it, she agreed without hesitation. Now she'd gone even further, just to make him happy.
"Is that okay?" she asked. His brow was furrowed in an odd way and his eyes were fixed on the poster as it rested on the coffee table. She'd assumed a simple poster would be harmless enough, but maybe there was some reason Trunks didn't want him to have it. Maybe it encouraged his hero worship of the man a little too strongly. Maybe I should've asked first… she wondered, trying to figure out if he was displeased.
"Yeah it's - great," he said, aware he was understating his own gratitude towards the gesture. He finally looked up at her with a gentle smile in return. "I think you made his entire year. I'm going to have a hard time beating it on his birthday."
"It's nice to know it's still possible to surprise the family that has everything," she joked, relieved it had his approval and she hadn't overstepped.
The boys were still in Trunks Jr.'s room, but she didn't want to leave before she got the chance to see him in his new gi. She rocked on her toes, searching for something to fill the silence while she waited. "So – any big plans for this weekend?"
He cleared his throat and looked away as though he was uncomfortable answering the innocuous question. "Nothing too big. We were going to take Bo around Capsule like we promised months ago," he answered. "I wanted to ask you about tonight…"
"Oh?"
"I was wondering if you minded if I left the boys alone for a few hours? I mean – I have before, but that was more of an emergency. I'll set some limits before I go…"
"That's fine," she said. "I think Bo's getting old enough for a little more trust. Big date or something?" she asked with a light chuckle.
He cleared his throat again. "Just – work stuff," he answered plainly.
He had just lied to her and he didn't know why. The real answer hadn't even seemed like an option at that very moment and his own lack of courage surprised him. He'd been so angry with everyone for living with secrets for so long, and now he was the one keeping the truth tucked away. It was sorely obvious to him that he was being a bit hypocritical, even if it was over something relatively minor. They'd just started over; this wasn't the sort of tone he wanted to set for their brand-new chapter.
"I won't be too late," he added.
Pan nodded and didn't ask anything more, which somehow increased the unpleasant weight in his chest. Suddenly, Trunks Jr. bounded back into the room, dressed in his new white gi and throwing punches and kicks in the air. Pan's smile grew as she watched him hopping about happily. He was so excited, he'd practically turned into a white and purple blur.
Trunks Jr.'s energy was so distracting, Pan didn't notice the look on her son's face, or the way his normally warm expression had darkened ever so slightly. He'd been trying his best to stay out of people's thoughts, but his father's negative feelings had "caught his ear", so to speak, and now he was fighting with himself over digging deeper.
Pan stayed for just a while longer, showing her new student a couple formal stances and talking about his first classes, warning him that his formal education would feel redundant for a while until he got into the higher belts. He promised again to be patient, and she didn't show a hint of doubt that he was telling the truth.
In the times she'd dropped off Bo in the past, Trunks had encouraged her to stay as long as she wanted for conversations like these, even inviting her for dinner, although she hadn't always accepted. Something about that night was different though. He kept looking at his watch, and although he didn't distinctly ask her to leave, his typical relaxed tone seemed anxious and his body language matched. He didn't push her out of the door, but she definitely felt like she wasn't as welcomed to stay this week.
She said her goodbyes, kissing Bo on the top of his head before finally noticing the slight dimming of his normally bright eyes. "Is something wrong?" she asked.
He pursed his lips together. He usually did that when he had something to say but wasn't sure if it was okay to say it. "No – I think I'm just tired," he fibbed, even though he wasn't yet sure there was anything to be upset with. He was still trying avoid reaching into his father's mind for the truth, but the sense that he was hiding something was still there.
"You sure, Spark?" she asked mentally, in case it was something he didn't want to express to everyone in the room. She wasn't entirely convinced with his denial; he'd been so excited just moments before and now he'd fallen too quiet.
He simply nodded. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to share it with her right then and there.
"Well, get some sleep. I've heard you're supposed to have a fun holiday weekend," she said with a reassuring smile. "I'll see you on Monday."
He smiled convincingly enough to make her feel comfortable leaving, but it faded the moment she turned away. Trunks Jr. looked at him questioningly when he also noticed his suddenly downturned expression, but Bo just smiled weakly at him too, hoping his feeling was wrong.
The night went along and Bo managed to stay out of his father's thoughts, but it wasn't easy. As time passed, Trunks started acting a little nervous as though he was waiting for something. He ordered dinner for just the two boys, then gave the brothers the rundown of what they could and couldn't do while he left the house for a while.
"Where are you going?" Trunks Jr. asked. It wasn't the first time he'd been left home alone, but it didn't happen often.
Trunks delayed responding, switching between different answers as his courage abandoned him once again. He looked at Bo as though he was trying to determine whether or not the boy was in his head before answering, "just out to dinner with a friend." It wasn't completely the truth, but it wasn't a lie either.
The food for the two kids came shortly afterward and he made sure they were settled before he disappeared back to his bedroom. The boys ate a few bites, but by then, Trunks Jr. had begun to wonder what was going on as well. Their eyes met across the dinner table and they silently agreed the meal could wait as they made their way to their father's room to investigate further.
Trunks had showered quickly and was toweling off when he opened the door of his master bathroom to find his carbon copy staring up at him with a raised, suspicious eyebrow. Bo was still out in the hallway, a little shier about barging in on his father's personal space. Trunks still somehow felt cornered by both of them.
"Do you need something?" he asked his nosey son.
"No," Trunks Jr. answered. "Just wondering who this friend is. You usually only shower at night when we're going out with Pan. Is it Uncle Goten? He hasn't been over in a while."
Trunks twisted his lips and looked between both boys. Both of them had the same skeptical expression on their faces, awaiting his response curiously. "It's not Uncle Goten," he answered. "You – haven't met this friend before - but I'll introduce you before we leave."
He gently pushed his intruder back out of his bedroom. Bo was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed while he stared at him, a rare frown on his lips. Trunks would've sworn he was his father reincarnated if it weren't for the fact that Vegeta was still alive. The withering stare from the grandson affected him as much as his would have. He swallowed hard under the judgmental glower and shut his bedroom door.
I should've talked to them before I did this, he realized. Especially Trunks. He might not be ready.
It had happened quickly and he hadn't really thought it through. One moment, he was being introduced to the new supply and purchasing agent of one of the third-party vendors they used, the next moment he'd found himself asking her to dinner. She'd said "yes", but with the caveat that she would be flying off-continent just a couple of days later for a two-week-long business trip. Fueled by foolish eagerness and nerves, he made the date for the next night – rushing a step that was due much more time and care, he realized in retrospect.
She was an attractive business woman who wasn't improperly younger than he was; she was smart, successful, knowledgeable in her field, and had even made him laugh during their short conversation. She had dark blue hair, light brown skin, and indigo eyes, a unique combination that still fed into his type. By all accounts, there was no reason he shouldn't have asked her out – except this would be the first date he'd been on since Trunks' mother died, and the first one since Bo had been in the family. Since he'd asked her out so quickly and with such a short delay to the night of their date, he hadn't had the time to broach the topic with either of them.
Or maybe you were too scared and ended up putting it off until it was too late, he scolded himself. It was probably true; he'd been worried about Trunks Jr.'s reaction to this eventuality for a while. And then there's Pan, a smaller, quieter voice within him added.
He tried his best to ignore that little voice, although it had grown noisier since she'd shown up with the incredibly thoughtful gift for Trunks Jr. Its argumentative whispers had been subtly poking him in the back of his brain for a few weeks now, popping up in surprising moments, when he allowed his mind to wander. He'd gone years without thinking of her much at all, but now she was starting to regularly appear in his thoughts during the quiet times of the day.
It didn't surprise him that certain feelings were beginning to bloom into a second life. She was familiar, a known quantity who held qualities that matched well with a side of him he often neglected. She was his son's mother, and one of the rare adults who'd managed to endear themselves to his other rebellious child. Physical attraction and compatibility certainly weren't an issue; he would never try and pretend otherwise, even during the nadir of their relationship. To top it all off, they'd seemed to work through many of the issues that had come between them, and were now getting along as well as they ever had. After years of cold emptiness, it was an extraordinary relief to have the Capsule dome full of laughter and smiles during their last family night; she'd been a big part of that.
That voice had begun its crescendo weeks before, but was nearly yelling at him during their latest family time, defying all rational logic by suggesting to him that a second chance would be possible. It would be so easy, it told him, for her to slip right into the equation. For nights like this to become permanently regular. To be happy with her again.
Despite those gradually loudening arguments, he knew he was simply feeling the effects of long-term loneliness. He'd felt the absence of that sort of company for a long time, but until recently, he was too focused on his son and his pain was too fresh for him to feel comfortable making that connection with someone again. It didn't help that jumping back into the dating pool was a lot different in his late 40s than it had been in his youth; the prospect was terrifying, actually.
Making the date with someone who'd be a sensible match - was the perfect way to quash that voice and confirm to himself that he was just lonely and a little sexually frustrated, before he did something he might regret. It was never going to happen with Pan. She just wanted to be friends – and he knew beyond a doubt that was the best thing for them, and the best thing for the two innocent kids who would be devastated if they tried and failed to rekindle what they'd lost.
You know that's not true, he argued with himself. Why would you hide it from her if you were so sure of that? You lied to her because you're lying to yourself.
His phone beeped, interrupting the quiet civil war going on inside his head. It was his "hurry up" alarm. She was going to be there soon. The sorely regretted not just having her meet him somewhere in the city. He'd sabotaged himself by doing it this way. He was going to have to intercept her at the door before his sons did, and offer them an honest explanation later.
He threw on the rest of his clothes as quickly as possible, taking a deep breath as he examined his appearance in the mirror one last time.
Do you even remember how to do this?
He pushed down the doubt in his stomach once more and slipped his sports jacket over his arms. By the time he reached for his bedroom door, his phone alerted him to a guest at the front.
"She's too early," he mumbled, jogging down the long hallway in hopes of getting to the door first.
He was just a moment later than he should've been. Trunks Jr. had already opened the door to their guest, silently scowling at the innocently naïve woman on their front step.
"Hello," the woman said sweetly, leaning down slightly to greet him at his height. "You must…"
"Who are you?" he asked blankly, boldly interrupting her.
She blinked a few times in reaction to the brazen interruption. "Uh - my name is Sylphia," she said.
Trunks Jr. remained unnervingly silent as he continued staring at her, realizing this was the "friend" meeting his father.
It was glaringly obvious to the woman she was already being measured up by the boy. "I like your bathrobe!" she said in a friendly tone, in a misguided attempt to break the silence. Once again, he didn't reply, though his expression turned sourer despite her efforts to engage with him. "You look just like your dad. Uh - is he here?" she asked uncomfortably.
Trunks Jr.'s eyes narrowed. "I think you have the wrong house."
"Trunks!" his father's voice said firmly from right behind him. "Sorry," he said to the woman, sheepishly smiling in apology. "Come in."
She timidly stepped through the doorway, but the boy who had greeted her would barely give her an inch to move. She cleared her throat awkwardly, deciding on staying right where she was as she clutched her purse nervously in front of her. She'd known he had a child, everyone who had ever picked up a paper did, but Trunks didn't prepare her for one with the intense, judgmental stare that Trunks Jr. was currently giving her.
"Trunks, this is Sylphia. Can't you say 'hi'?" he said, failing to hide the growing irritation in his voice.
Trunks Jr.'s eyes narrowed further. "Something stinks like dead flowers," he said bluntly.
The woman's face turned bright red, but before she could say anything, Trunks had stepped up and grabbed his son by the back of his gi.
"Trunks has a sensitive nose," he said with a nervous laugh.
"I overdid the perfume," she said dismissively, trying her best to take the blame as though she could make Trunks Jr.'s rude statement acceptable.
"Give me just a second, Sylphia. I just need to talk to my son before we leave," he said with another uneasy smile. He yanked on the back of Trunks Jr.'s gi, pulling him forcefully to the kitchen.
The moment they were out of view and earshot, Trunks immediately turned him around, forcing the boy to look in his direction, although he wouldn't meet his eyeline. There was a frown set on his lips and his eyebrows were down to a point. The grouchy look might've been inherited, but Trunks hadn't seen it with such intensity on his son for a while, not since Bo had been around. All of a sudden, he was back to the kid he was several months ago, full of pent-up anger and ready to get into trouble.
"Trunks…" he started with a sigh, suddenly realizing there was a party missing from this conversation. "Where's Bo?"
"He said he was tired and went to bed," Trunks Jr. said angrily. "Now I know why. He did that the last time there was trouble too."
"Trouble…?"
Trunks Jr. sat down on the nearby chair with a *huff*, crossing his arms as his frown deepened. "You're not going out with a friend. You're going on a date," he spat.
Trunks sighed. "Yes, I am," he admitted.
Trunks Jr.'s face darkened even further. "Why? Nothing needs to change. Everything is perfect as it is. We don't need her."
"Trunks…" he started, suddenly at a loss for words. This was a complicated topic to try to maneuver around in just a few minutes. It was going to take a longer conversation. When he'd originally invited Sylphia to Capsule, he thought the introduction would go smoother if the boys met her early on. He also believed Trunks Jr. might be more open to the idea of him dating again if there was an actual face and name to put with the concept. He'd been so short-sighted to try it this way; it was a dumb idea.
"Look, we can talk when I get back, but this isn't up to you," he said.
Trunks Jr. opened his mouth to argue, but his father's eyes narrowed strictly, letting him know he wasn't about to win this. "I don't like her," he said quietly.
"She's barely said three words to you," Trunks argued, "and in the 30 seconds you've known her, you've been beyond rude."
"But Dad," he argued, "she called my gi a 'bathrobe'."
"Not everyone knows about that stuff," he said, firmly adding, "and if you want to hold on to that gi long enough to take your first class, you need to be nicer."
"You can't just take it! Pan gave this to me!" the boy suddenly shouted, once again showing the temper Trunks had hoped he'd grown out of.
"And who do you think paid for it?" he asked, raising his own voice. He took a deep breath, calming his anger down a degree before continuing. "Trunks - I should've done this differently. I realize that - but you've got to quit it with the attitude. You've been doing so good lately. If you start falling into old habits - I'm not afraid to start punishing you, even in front of Bo."
Trunks Jr.'s face grew red and Trunks could feel his ki spiking, but he didn't say a word. His eyes glassed over, and he quickly stood, running out of the kitchen and down the hall to his room. Trunks didn't chase him. There was obviously something more behind his son's sudden outburst, but for now, he could only guess. He'd let him cool off. Maybe tomorrow morning would present a better opportunity to work this out and find out what was going on inside his young mind.
Trunks sighed again and straightened out his jacket, putting on a nonchalant mask before walking back out to meet his date. "Ready?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck and hoping his expression didn't reveal his heightened stress. She smiled back just as superficially; he could tell she'd pretty much heard everything. Trying to date with a moody teenager at home was going to be tricky.
Pan had adjusted slowly to the idea of having an empty house every so often. It was shockingly quiet when Bo was gone, so much so that she normally had the TV or radio going just for background noise and was contemplating getting a dog simply to have another form of life to speak to that wasn't a houseplant. Her brother Goku had come over once to play games and catch up with her, which she'd enjoyed. She'd invited him over again, but school had him tied up. Taani was also busy, her parents had gone out, and it was too late to reach out to anyone else, so - she was stuck by herself that night.
The idea of training had crossed her mind, but her energy wasn't in it that night. There weren't many times in her life when she would admit that to herself, but it just didn't appeal to her. Maybe she was starting to feel her age…
…or maybe you're just sad and lonely, she continued mentally.
She rolled her eyes at her inner voice, wishing the thought hadn't crossed her mind. She had plenty of love in her life, it's just that none of them had time for her on this specific night. Adding someone else because of one quiet evening would be myopic and selfish. Bo already had enough change to deal with in his life.
He really is growing fast, she thought wistfully. He's only going to be out of the house more often – until he's old enough to get a place of his own.
She finally closed the book she'd been trying to read for months. Every time it got quiet enough for her to focus on the words on the pages, her mind would stir, ripping the ability to focus from her fingers. She'd started it months ago and couldn't even recall the protagonist's name. The sun had barely set and she'd already eaten, so she decided to take a shower and go to bed. If an early night caused her to wake up too early the next morning, that was fine. There was always something to do at the dojo, even if it was just sweeping the floors or washing some windows. Work would easily kill a day, two if she was detailed about it, and then Bo would be back Monday night after weekend and school holiday.
Or earlier, she thought. There had been something in his eyes before she left. He'd said he was tired, but "I'm tired" for him was often code that he was merely choosing sleep over confrontation. It was the definitive way in which he differed from his mother. In fact, she wasn't sure where he'd gotten that trait. The closest theory she had was that was from her pacifistic father. She'd wondered if Bo's expression had something to do with the way Trunks was subtly trying to get her to leave early, but she wouldn't know for sure until Bo got home.
Pan put it out of her mind and continued her nightly routine. It was almost 9:00 by the time she'd settled into her bed. She'd just started dreaming when a small, quiet voice from outside her window woke her up again.
Her eyes shot open the moment she heard the noise, but at first, she dismissed it for a random bit of nature's soundtrack leaking through her windows. She was in the city outskirts after all; coyotes, owls, foxes, and even the occasional dinosaur were common sights out there. She only had to listen carefully for a moment before she heard the sound again. It was a distinctively human kiai, and a slowly billowing ki accompanied the second event.
She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and slipped on the nearest pair of shoes, opening her front door to the odd sight her sleepy brain didn't know how to process at first. Trunks Jr. was out in her front yard, his aura glowing white as his energy started building. The long grass underneath him was evidence to the fact that he was already very worked up, even if he had just arrived. He was doing stretches and warm-up kicks while levitating in the air until he noticed her and lowered himself to the ground.
The young Trunks' face was knit with anger, and she could sense it in his energy too. In that state, he looked especially strikingly like his father, but she didn't offer that opinion out loud. He was probably very tired of hearing it by now.
"I'm sorry I woke you," he said, his calm voice contrasting his razor-sharp eyes and the fire in his aura. His stare was fixed firmly on the ground in front of him, partially obscured by his long purple hair that he hadn't even bothered to tie back.
"It's - okay," she said. "Is Bo here too?"
"No, he - he went to bed early," he explained.
She wanted to ask what he was doing there alone, and what was causing his energy to bloom like it was, but she felt very strongly that she shouldn't be confrontational about it. He wouldn't benefit from it, and she didn't think she would get a truthful answer out of him at the moment anyway.
"I'm not allowed to use the gravity room when I'm home alone," he started, "and I didn't want to be there when Dad got back. I was just - hoping to find a good place to train. I'm sorry. I'll leave."
"You don't need to go," she said authentically.
He looked up at her; she could see the shine of her porch light reflected in his glassy eyes. He wasn't just angry, he was hurting. His fists were curled at his side even then, causing his knuckles to grow white in the strain. Whatever he was mad at, it had nothing to do with her. In fact, he could've gone to the middle of nowhere if he just wanted to blow off steam. That's what he'd done the night he met Bo. Why come to her little house to do it?
She smiled softly as realization hit her. He didn't want to be alone either. "Do you want to spar?" she asked.
His eyes finally softened slightly and he nodded. "Yes, please."
"Give me a minute. I'll get some clothes on."
. . .
Whatever Trunks Jr. was angry about that night, it must've been a big deal in his eyes. The slightly misogynistic concern he'd had about hitting her last time they'd fought wasn't even a question this time. The moment she set her stance in a ready position, he was after her, blurring in the air around her as he tried several angles of attack.
She could've used her advantage of speed to avoid most of his impacts, but she decided not to, allowing him to land blows that she normally would've blocked or dodged altogether. Her instinct told her he needed these small wins tonight. In return, however, she didn't pull her punches, and each opening she found resulted in a legitimate hit to the area. She'd taken the wind out of him twice, but he'd gotten right back up again - with as much determination as he'd had when he started.
There was something a little extra in his energy that night, likely driven by whatever had inspired his temper. She could feel it ebb and flow as he flew around her, spiking occasionally during particularly intense moments in their spar. She wondered if he'd noticed it, or if his thoughts were blinding him. It was probably better that he didn't see it. Paying too much attention to it could cause the drive creating the spike to fade, which was the reason he didn't transform the night he met Bo. If he really was within arm's reach of it like she thought he was, she was going do everything she could to help him find that particular victory that night.
Hours had melted behind them before she even realized it and midnight had come and gone. He was tired and winded; sweat dripped from his long hair freely to the ground. She called a short break to force him to drink. The last thing he needed was to pass out from dehydration in her front yard when he was so close to his goal.
"Are you ready to tell me why you're so pissed off tonight?" she asked, hoping he would get worked up again after their short break.
He looked up at her as though he was surprised she'd picked up on that fact. "How did you know?"
She nearly fell over in exasperation. He was a smart boy, but his own lack of self-awareness at that moment was astounding. "I can practically feel it radiating from you," she answered honestly with a wry chortle.
For a moment, he looked as though he was considering answering her question, but instead, he simply shook his head. "I just want to train."
"Understood," she answered. She really did understand. He'd chosen the right company for his mood that night. She wasn't going to force him to talk; she just wanted him to release his anger at the right time. Whether that involved words or silence, it didn't matter.
She finished her own water and threw the bottle away from their position, lowering herself back into a "ready" stance once again. He was off like the breeze. He threw several punches towards her face, which she easily blocked, but then feigned his last one in favor with a kick aimed towards her ribs. She caught his foot, but he spun around, aiming his other leg towards her head. She managed to get her arm up just in time, but the impact of their limbs and unexpected swerve sent her flying several feet.
She recovered, using her ki to push against the air and propel her back towards him. She was met with a small ki blast, which she deflected with her left hand, using her right hand to grab his head and force him backwards into the ground. There was a small crater in her landscaping once they'd landed. It wouldn't be the first one.
She kept her knee on his chest for just a second, just long enough for both to register the win. In that brief moment, his eyes softened, filling with sadness. At first, she was afraid she'd been too hard on him, but it wasn't that at all.
"He's trying to forget her," he said in a growl.
"Who?"
"My mom!" he shouted, powering up and sending an energy wave into her chest. It sent her flying backwards. She landed on one knee in the grass, ready to jump up again, when he bounded out of the crater, flying towards her. She leapt out of the way just as he'd made impact with the ground, embedding his fist in the soil like he had the last time. He had a powerful punch, but luckily, it was slower than she was.
Unlike last time, he immediately accounted for her dodging it. Using both feet and his ki, he leapt into the air, aiming an uppercut at her chin. She managed to turn away just in time, but it was such a close call, she could feel the cuff from his jacket sleeve brushing her cheek as it went by. She made a fist and hit him in the ribs. While he was stunned, she kicked his legs out from him so he would lose his balance. Even in the air this created disorientation if you did it fast enough. For a final move to this round, as he began falling backwards, she put her fists together, aiming a blow to his gut that send him back to the ground.
She was levitating in the air, slightly above him. She'd missed his fist during the attempted uppercut, but not by as much as she'd wanted to. He was starting to get faster, and she could feel that familiar spike once again.
"I don't think…" she stopped herself from finishing that sentence. Now wasn't the time to offer comfort, not if she was going to do him this favor. "What do you mean he's trying to forget her?" she asked, hoping he would elaborate and work himself up again.
Her shift in dialogue worked. His energy spiked again. "He took some - lady on a date."
Numbness and unpleasant heat spread from her feet to the top of her head with that news. He said he was going to work. Why did he lie to me? she wondered as she felt her face grow red. She'd prepared herself for the fact that he wouldn't want to give them a second chance, that there'd been too much wrong with their situation to want to try again, but she wasn't ready for him to start seeing someone so soon after they'd finally figured everything out. Why am I so angry? He has a right to…
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted and she cursed herself for getting distracted. After a moment of struggle, she managed to breathe in with a wheeze, fighting gravity just enough to keep from crashing into the ground as she caught her breath again. He'd thrown one of those solid punches straight into her gut - and she'd let her feelings distract her from dodging it. She wiped a small trail of spit from her mouth. Now she felt her own anger burn, sparked by what the boy had said but fueled by the excitement of what was turning out to be a challenging fight. It wasn't the time to focus on herself though; this was his night.
"Are you okay?" he asked sympathetically.
He was going in the wrong direction. Don't lose it now, she silently encouraged him.
"How is a date going to make him forget your mother?" she asked, hoping to remind him of his anger.
It worked. He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth. She used his own moment of distraction to fly at him with a new set of her own attacks. He caught her just in time, and the renewed anger he felt was focused through his body and into their spar.
She felt another spike. Almost there.
With a grunt, he flew back from her, throwing another series of small ki blasts at her. They were more powerful than they'd previously been, but they were carelessly thrown. She dodged easily. Although his sloppiness wasn't great for developing skill, it was a good sign that he was still on track. His emotions were peaking.
"He's trying to replace her!" he shouted over the sound of the blasts exploding in the landscape behind Pan. The neighbors were going to think the Amaterasu was up to something again. "She's nothing like her! She doesn't even know what a gi is and she smells!"
The final blast in his volley exploded, then cast the landscape back into silent darkness. Not even the insects were chirping, since they were now in hiding from the firestorm. Trunks leaned over to catch his breath; Pan remained still and silent, hoping his energy would spiral from there. All she could hear was the boy's hard breathing, but Trunks' head was buzzing and hot.
"He doesn't even talk about Mom anymore!" he cried, his voice much louder against the quiet black of night than it had been against the white-hot explosions of his energy. "I bet he won't even want to visit her grave again! He's going to want to spend all of his time with her and he won't want to do anything with us as a family!"
His words were so muddled and random, she could barely understand him, but tone of his voice and the way it cracked in strain broke her heart. The last thing he'd said – if she were honest, she was afraid of that too. She didn't speak. She didn't want to accidentally deescalate his rage. His energy was ripe for it now, he just needed to push himself over a razor-thin edge.
He growled and threw more ki blasts, but they weren't aimed at Pan. She flew to the side, allowing them to streak harmlessly by her, again setting the horizon alight. He stopped only to yell again, but she wasn't able to understand him at all this time. His voice was a roar now, on par with the primal screams she'd grown up and heard repeatedly from the people she loved the most. Her own eyes shined with warm tears of pride she never thought she'd feel for anyone outside of her own family, reflecting the pulses of golden light that were emanating from his small form.
"Everything was finally good again! Why does he have to change it?! I just want things to stay the same!"
The form stabilized, feeling almost like it had clicked into place. He instantly fell to the ground and on his hands and knees, water falling from his face in happiness and sadness simultaneously. He was still so angry, but he'd felt himself make the change, and knew exactly what had happened, even though he hadn't been actively trying for it.
He leaned up, sitting on his knees, looking at his hands in awe as they glowed with golden light. He could feel the power inside and out. His body felt different – stronger, faster, but also very much the same. It was simultaneously a subtle change and an incredible one. He'd never imagined it would feel this way.
Pan floated to the ground and knelt next to him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. He was shaking, probably due to the amount of energy the first transformation could drain combined with all of the conflicting and strong emotions coursing through his body at once. It had been overwhelming enough as a young adult. She couldn't imagine going through it as a child.
"He's not going to forget her. I can promise you that," she said, finally able to offer some comfort.
Water poured freely from his eyes, but a faint smile finally spread across his lips. He groaned, focusing hard trying to keep the form, but she knew it could be difficult to hold onto it the first time – unless you were her grandfather.
"Pan – what if I forget her too?" he asked, his voice dropping down to nearly such a whisper that she could barely hear him above the hum of his energy. He looked away, his hands grasping at the dirt as more tears gathered in the soil beneath him. "I used to see her face – every time I closed my eyes. Now I just see a blur. Sometimes, I – I can't remember everything about what she looked like, or what her voice sounded like, or…"
She smiled sadly, relating to his words more than he could imagine. "It might be difficult to believe, but that's part of missing someone," Pan said softly. "I – I have some faces I'd like to remember too. Sometimes they're as clear as day in my head, like I just saw them yesterday. Sometimes I only remember the basics, like the shape of their heads, or the smell of their cooking. That doesn't mean I'm forgetting them; that's just a sign time is going by."
He looked back at her, his eyes displaying a desperation for confirmation that she wasn't just placating him – that he wasn't a bad son.
"Besides," she continued, "the most important thing to remember is how you felt about them, and how they made you feel. Everything else is just details – and things like looking at pictures and sharing stories – those can all help."
He simply nodded, but it was enough for her to get the sense that his misplaced guilt and anger had faded slightly.
"If a day ever comes when your dad doesn't seem like he wants to think about her, but you do – you have your brother and I. You can come here again and tell us stories. We'll learn what she was like – so we can remember her together."
The gentle smile returned. He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Why is my head heavy?" he suddenly asked.
"Because you're probably exhausted," she said with a chuckle, "but also because long hair sometimes doesn't lend itself quite right to the transformation – especially when you're used to having fine hair like we both do."
He sighed and released the form, feeling immediate relief when the drain on his energy reserves decreased. Now he was just feeling a normal level of tired. "Do – do you think you could cut it for me?" he asked.
She smiled. "Sure," she answered. "But we're going to need to get that done now because once you fall asleep after this, you're going to be out for a while. Go inside to the kitchen. I'll be in after I find our water bottles."
He obeyed, taking off towards the house with a jog before realizing how tired he really was and slowing to a normal walk. She did as she said she was going to for a moment, but then once he was inside, she wandered over to the extra dark area next to her house, where two large trees blocked glow of the porch light. She leaned against the tallest one, pretending not to see the familiar silhouette in the shadow of the tree next to it.
"You could come inside and congratulate him like a normal person," she said. "It was a pretty big deal."
The shadow "hmph'd" indifferently. "He doesn't need it," he insisted.
"He does," she argued confidently. "They all do. And your other grandson would like to meet you too someday - instead of only knowing you as that 'strange voice' he sometimes hears in his head."
She glanced back, watching his shadow from the corner of her eye. She could see him take a deep sigh. He wasn't immediately dismissing it. She turned her head, attempting to hide the smile before he saw it.
"My dad is still incredibly irritated with the fact that he took on so much of your appearance. It's bad enough he ended up with a special trait straight out of your bloodline," she said.
It wasn't untrue, but she knew she was testing his limits. She could see his lips twitch in the low light now that her eyes had adjusted. There were mixed feelings there. Undoubtedly, he wasn't too happy with the idea that he now shared a descendant with her grandfather, but everyone knew his feelings towards his rival had softened in his later years; maybe his opinion of the idea wasn't as negative as he pretended it was.
He huffed lightly and turned to leave.
"Vegeta…" she pleaded simply. She knew he was dealing with his own issues, but being out in the world alone wasn't going to solve them.
"You're a better teacher than you were a student," he said gruffly.
"Thank you?" she said with a chortle, emphasizing the inflection of the question.
He made another vague sound and disappeared into the darkness. She sighed. At least she tried.
A lot of people in the gossip press world seemed to think Trunks was quite the ladies' man, but he was never sure where that reputation had developed; he just never tried to correct it. He was good at flirting – well, he liked flirting, but his follow-through was notoriously terrible. Once he had the date, he didn't know where to go from there. It didn't help that he'd only had a few legitimate girlfriends in his lifetime, and one of them was on and off again so often, he got plenty of chances to redeem any embarrassment. He also hadn't had a "first date" in over a decade, and even that didn't really count since that particular woman had known him for her entire life at that point. He'd never had the "revolving door" everyone in the outside world seemed to think he did; truth be told, he wouldn't know what to do with it.
He'd started out this night quite impressed with himself as a result. He'd given the date four hours. That was a long time in date terms when you were only relying on two-way conversation to drive the night and not interrupting it with a movie, or some other third-party provided focus. He'd remembered to ask plenty of questions about her life, and answered hers as honestly as he could without going into deeper details that he wasn't ready to share. They both had similar education and even found to have a few mutual acquaintances. He'd made her laugh several times and she'd done the same. He was on his "A game" and didn't feel nervous at all. For a while, that left him feeling good about the situation and his ability to wade through the dating pool again after a lack of practice. That was, until it was nearly time pay the bill and he realized one very vital flaw in the night:
He wasn't nervous – because he didn't feel anything for the woman he was with.
Some mutual attraction was there, but it was all very superficial. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself he was just out of practice, or that his expectations were too high, he couldn't ignore the fact that he saw no future in it.
After dinner was over, he followed her to where she de-capsuled her car, trying his best to keep both their dignities intact while telling her he wasn't interested in repeating the effort a second time. She seemed to understand and maybe even felt the same, or maybe she was just good at acting. He really wasn't sure; he just wanted to get away from the uncomfortable goodbye as fast as possible.
The very moment her car pulled away, he took off and flew straight back to the comforting solitude of the Capsule dome. He landed on his room's veranda and immediately stripped down to his boxers, crashing backwards onto his bed and exhaling in relief. He considered dropping by Trunks' room to assure him that there was nothing for him to worry about, but he decided against it. Trunks needed more time to consider how rude he'd been to someone who hadn't done anything at all to deserve it. Plus, he was done with the night and just wanted to move on to morning without delay.
As he waited for sleep to take him, he replayed the night in his head. Although there was one very obvious aspect of the dating world he missed terribly, he was grateful to himself for not succumbing to the temptation to drag things out just for those purposes. He'd rather have a cold, empty bed than have it warmed up by the wrong person. On paper, it should've been an incredible match. In reality, there was an almost artificial quality to the whole experience. The evening felt more like a work meeting over an over-priced dinner than an attempt at romantic instigation. That wasn't enough of a connection to invite someone over, and it would've been disingenuous to her.
Sylphia was a good match for Trunks, the CEO of Capsule Corp, he decided. That's why she lined up in theory. But that's not who he was, that was only what he did. For Trunks, the half-alien defender of Earth and father of two hyperactive, super-powered boys, she just didn't fit – and she never would have.
He wasn't disheartened by the realization that his first attempt to date again had failed, but he was confused. If she didn't fit, who would? What woman on the planet would be able to slip in to the complicated scenario he was in with his family, understand his heritage without getting scared, and get to know the real him - all while remaining patient enough with his son that he didn't immediately chase her away? The little voice that he'd been warring with for a few weeks now chimed in to chide him for even asking a question he already had the answer to.
Talk to her, it repeated.
He'd been over the possibility in his head a million times and the "con" side of the list was much longer than the "pro". Two of the biggest reasons it was a bad idea were sleeping just a few rooms away. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, willing those thoughts away for the sake of sleep.
. . .
He awoke with a start, his instinct telling him he'd sensed something in his sleep that he should be alerted to – but whatever it was, it was gone. He swore it felt just like his son's ki flaring in monstrous proportions out in the distance somewhere, but that didn't make much sense given he was just down the hall.
Trunks sat up and rubbed his half-asleep face as he looked at the clock. It was early in the morning, almost early enough to be considered late at night. Trunks Jr. would be sleeping. Just to sate his own paternal alarm system, which didn't seem to be calming down, he closed his eyes and reached out his own energy, feeling for the tiny trail of ki his son would be emitting while he slept. He expected to be able to sense him. If he could sense him from down the hall as a baby, an angry tween should be even easier. But there was nothing.
He grumbled to himself, climbing out of his comfortable bed so he could go check. Despite their strength, there were still plenty of ways for a reckless, Saiyan boy to get hurt in the world – and he was worried about him getting himself into trouble in other ways, which wouldn't have been completely out of character. That ki surge, if it in fact hadn't been a dream, was higher than he'd ever felt from his son, but its quick disappearance also raised the larger red flag in his mind.
When he got down the hall, he was surprised to find Trunks' room door already open. Bo was standing by his brother's empty bed, focusing intensely out the window.
"Did you feel it too?" Trunks asked.
Bo turned and nodded. "I think he did it. I was hoping I'd be there…" he started disappointedly.
"Me too," he answered with a sigh, sitting on the foot of Trunks' bed. "Can you sense him? He's pretty far away."
"I – think he's near my mom's house," Bo said with some confusion.
Trunks crossed his arms, debating on what to do from that point. His son was old enough for some independence, but he was young enough that Trunks didn't want him trapsing off on his own on a regular basis. The fact that he'd left Bo behind was a little concerning. He knew his son hadn't been pleased with him, but he didn't know he's been upset enough to run off and potentially go Super Saiyan over it.
"Should I call your mom, or should I just go check in on him?" he asked Bo.
The boy was surprised to get asked his opinion. "Dad – I've been trying to stay out of people's minds like Aunt Bra told me to, but – I know why he's angry and…"
Trunks nodded before Bo could finished. "Yeah, I do too," he said with another sigh. "And if he would've stuck around, he would've learned it didn't turn out to be as big of a deal as he thought it was."
Trunks' gaze was on the window, not on Bo, so he didn't see the small smile form on his lips. Despite his better judgement, he took a peek into Trunks' thoughts, seeing just enough to learn the conclusion of the night.
"And you…" Trunks continued, "you need to learn it's okay to talk to people. Running away to your own thoughts might be good sometimes, but there are moments when expressing yourself is better than stewing alone over something without understanding it completely. Trunks needs to calm down and you need to speak up – I'm sure there's a happy medium somewhere between you two."
"If you go check on him, can I go with you?" he asked. "I want to see if he did it."
Trunks nodded and smiled subtly. "Go get dressed."
Pan bit her lip as she focused hard on her task at hand. Little purple hairs were all over her kitchen floor and her clothes, and more were floating down as she continued cutting. She was taking just a little bit of length at a time since he'd been trying to grow his hair long originally, but while she expected him to tell her to stop at any moment, he just kept letting it get shorter.
"You're a brave kid for asking me to do this," she said with a wry chuckle.
"You don't cut Bo's hair?" he asked, scrolling through his phone as though he wasn't worried at all.
"Yes, but his is thick, frizzy, and chunky like the other men in my family. You don't have to be as exact or careful with it like with yours," she explained. "It's getting really short. Are you sure you want me to keep going?"
"I just don't want to look exactly like my Dad. It's bad enough we have the same face, and the same colors, and the same name," he said grumpily. "I don't need his haircut too."
She laughed softly. It was easy to imagine how that probably felt for a teenage boy trying to come into his own. "You should talk to Goten about that."
Trunks looked up at her questioningly. "Does he always have people telling him he looks just like his dad?"
"Well, his dad – my grandpa – sort of passed away," she started.
"I'm sorry," he said suddenly as though he was afraid he'd hurt her feelings.
"It's been a long time, it's okay," she assured him. "But when Goten was a teenager, he had his exact face. Only – he wasn't entirely happy about. So, he did some weird stuff with his hair too. As a heads up, now that you can transform, hair dye isn't going to work so well. It tends to burn off."
"At least he didn't have his name," Trunks argued.
"True," she conceded. "I heard you have your grandmother to blame for that. My brother looks a lot like my father too. Luckily, it doesn't bother him as much."
"I don't have any friends who have that problem. Why does it only seem to be us?"
"You mean Saiyans?" she asked. He nodded. "That's a question for your aunt Bra. I think those genes just tend to overpower the parts of us that are human."
"But Dad and I look more like grandma than grandpa," he argued.
She laughed, appreciating that this kid seemed to think she could even pretend to be an authority on the subject. "Are you sure about that? You got her coloring, but the face and those grumpy eyebrows are all his."
Trunks rubbed his forehead self-consciously and fell silent in thought for a few moments as she continued to trim length away.
"Trunks – do you trust me?" she asked, putting one hand on her hip while she ran the other through the hair he had left.
He nodded his head, but couldn't hide the look of uneasiness on his face. She left the room and came back with a set of clippers and plugged them in. The buzzing went on for longer than he expected, and he could feel her making long swaths through his hair, causing quite a lot of pieces of purple to fall around him. He wondered for a moment if she was actually shaving him bald, but once she was done, she seemed satisfied with how it looked and handed him a mirror.
The sides and the back were shaved pretty short, but despite the amount of hair she'd shaved away, there was still a thick fuzz on all sides of his head. The hair on the top was longer, and after she'd played with it a little, it fell naturally in directions that made it look random but styled at the same time. It was short, and it was different than anything that had ever been on his father's head to his knowledge.
She started getting a little nervous when he swept the mirror from side-to-side looking at his head in every possible angle without a change in his expression.
"What do you think?" she finally asked.
"Pan," he started. Her stomach tied in a bit of a knot and she was suddenly sure that he hated it. "If my dad wanted to go on a date so bad, why didn't he go with you?"
Heat rose to her cheeks and her mouth went dry as her brain went blank with that question. What was she supposed to say to that? Her gaze dropped to the clippers in her hand as she wound the cord up and unplugged them.
"What do you think of your hair?" she elaborated, hoping he would drop that subject.
He smiled. "I like it. It feels lighter."
She sighed in relief. "Good! And it should stay put when you transform too."
Trunks pulled out his phone and took a smarmy picture of himself. Pan laughed and shook her head. The more he tried to be different than his father, the more alike they became. She pulled out her broom and started sweeping up the mass of purple from her kitchen floor. She expected him to stay the night since he was undoubtedly very tired, but he hadn't asked yet.
"You're pretty," he said, far more casually than the compliment would normally sound.
She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Thanks, Trunks."
"…and you fight, and you already know everything about us. Plus, you're Bo's mom," he said. "It wouldn't really change anything. It would sort of be the same as it is now. I don't understand…"
"Trunks," she said with an exasperated sigh. She rested her chin on the handle of her broom and looked back at his innocent, clueless face as he waited for a simple answer to a complicated issue. "We tried that. It didn't work."
"What happened?" he asked. Of course, he would have a follow up question.
"He married your mother and had you," she said, doing a damn good job of keeping her tone even, despite her lingering feelings over that episode.
"But she's gone now," he said with a frown. "So…"
"Trunks," she started, hoping to cut him off before he could complete that thought. Luckily, she didn't need to. As soon as she said his name, two familiar kis pinged her senses. Oh, thank god, she thought in relief. Trunks' tough questions were his father's to answer.
The door burst open and Bo ran through, straight to the kitchen. The older boy stopped in his tracks when he saw the sight of his brother in the chair, looking relatively normal except the fact that he was missing the curtain of hair that had been there just a few hours ago.
"Whoa," Trunks said, walking in much more slowly behind him. "What happened here?" Despite his remaining sleepiness, his eyes grew wide when he saw his son. He was expecting a big change, but not of this sort.
"Do you like it?" Pan asked, biting her nail a little nervously and hoping she hadn't overstepped, even though Trunks Jr. was old enough to have agency over things like this now.
Trunks chuckled and lightly pulled on the relatively short strands still remaining on the top of his son's head. "If he does," he said diplomatically. In truth, he was just glad the awkwardly long, messy locks were gone, but he feared showing too much approval for the change would suddenly cause the young preteen to find it "uncool", or whatever they said these days.
"It's different," he remarked. "I never had it that short."
Pan didn't miss grin that grew on Trunks Jr.'s face in reaction to that information. Trunks didn't miss it either, but he chose to ignore it.
Bo raised a disapproving eyebrow towards his father and Pan. "Stop talking about his hair! Did you do it?" he asked excitedly.
Trunks Jr.'s lips curved into a smug grin as his ki began to rise, lifting the towel that had been around his neck to catch his falling hair and sending purple strands flying into the air.
"Not in my kitchen!" Pan cried with a laugh, shepherding both boys towards the front door.
Trunks followed them outside, joining Pan in watching his son power back up into his brand-new transformed state. The long hair that had previously weighed him down was now a short and spiky, golden fauxhawk thanks to Pan's haircut, reminding Trunks a little of a nearly-forgotten, sword-bearing figure from his youth. Despite the boy's fatigue, his energy was flaring bright and strong. Their friendly weekend spars were about to get a lot more challenging.
His fatherly pride was nearly causing his chest to burst as joy filled him from head-to-toe. The laughter and happy voices of his sons were like music to his ears. The night might not have started on a great note, but the ending more than made up for it.
He looked down at Pan to ask her a question, but the words died on his lips. Glassiness filled her eyes, a smile stretched across her red cheeks. She was feeling it too, and he wasn't even hers. But then again, Pan had always been great with his son, hadn't she?
"I'm surprised you weren't here sooner," Pan said absentmindedly, remembering a moment too late that he'd had plans that evening. She cleared her throat, rubbing the back of her neck as she tried to dismiss the reappearance of the unpleasant heat that the surprise of learning he'd had a date caused earlier. "Did we interrupt your evening?" She mentally kicked herself over the question. It wasn't her business to know – even though she desperately wanted to.
Trunks crossed his arms, wondering if she'd seen through his fairly obvious attempt to lie about his evening plans. "No – uh…" he started, looking at the ground to avoid her stare. "That was a bust, actually. I was asleep. The bloom woke me up."
He looked up at her again just in time to notice her eyes soften when he said this, and wondered if it was relief, or if he was misunderstanding it altogether. One thing was for certain – he was tired. He'd had a confusing night, and although it had ended with a bang, he wasn't sure it was smart to elaborate on his answer without some more thought first.
"Trunks – aren't you exhausted?" he called out. The first time took a lot out of the body, and he was getting the impression his son was scraping the bottom of his energy well just to brag about it to Bo.
Trunks Jr. powered down and ran back over to his father. He was out of breath – a sure sign Trunks was probably right. "A little," he answered honestly.
"We should get home then," he said. "Bo's staying over anyway. You two can try out the new form first thing tomorrow."
The boy nodded in agreement, but didn't any move to take off in flight. "Pan," the young boy started nervously, reaching for hair to tuck behind his ear out of habit, even though it was all gone. "You were helping me, weren't you? You knew I was going to do it?"
She cocked her head innocently to the side and smiled warmly, confirming his suspicions. "I pushed you up to the line tonight, but you crossed it all by yourself."
Warm gratitude filled his eyes and he ran in for another tight embrace, the second one he'd ever given her and the second one that day. This time, she was braced for it, and wrapped her arms around him in return, despite the crushing pressure on her ribs.
Trunks laughed softly at the sight. He was eager to hear the full story, but was beginning to fill in some of the blanks himself. "You're good," he told her.
"I know," she simply replied.
Bo said goodnight to his mother and the three men headed back towards Capsule. Trunks was sure his son's earlier anger was part of the reason behind his ability to transform that night, but it needed a longer conversation – later. For the moment, he was just happy to see the smile back on his face.