CHAPTER 16:
In Stitches

It had been hours, and Pan had still not come out.

The sun now hung in a clear, mid-afternoon sky. The weather was beautiful, the outside grasses blew in waves of a gentle wind. The day was beautiful.

And Trunks was frustrated, but it wasn't entirely because of Pan. A lot of concerns popped up since Pan locked herself in the office, and Trunks was doing his best to keep his head cool, and to prevent a panic.

Trying to be productive after Pan went AWOL, Trunks decided to spend the early afternoon training Giru on the ship's mechanical features, now that Trunks had installed an update to Giru's critical thinking code. Trunks' goal was to divest some of his personal workload onto Giru, and to have Giru regularly check and do daily reports on their life support resources and their general inventory.

It was during Trunks' ship maintenance runthrough with Giru when he discovered something that made his hairs stand up on end:

The fuel gauge in the cockpit was incorrect, and had become miscalibrated, likely during their escape from M2. Trunks had been misled to believe they had a third of a tank of fuel left, when in actuality they were critically low, and Trunks was going to need to make a fuel stop their priority, regardless of Dragon Balls.

Thankfully, they had enough fuel to take off and land somewhere; however, the same fuel that powered the engines also powered their life support, along with another critical resource that Trunks also trained Giru to monitor: their water levels.

Thankfully, their water tank had been completely replenished since they landed on Kikarroo. When constructing the ship, Trunks' mom Bulma recalled her trip to Planet Namek, and made an educated guess that most planets might not have bodies of water, and so she had outfitted the ship to wick hydrogen dioxide moisture directly from the atmosphere. The thunderstorm from their wedding yesterday provided more than enough moisture to fully replenish their water supply, so at least one vital resource was in a good place.

The fuel issue, however, was a major concern. The best chances to find premium spaceship fuel would be on a highly colonized, heavy-commerce planet, established in interplanetary trade. That was the best chance for them to find refined fuel sold in a marketplace.

Luckily, Trunks was able to discern from intercepted radio signals that there was a cosmopolitan planet named Vidal only several major star systems away. It appeared to be a major port planet known for its medical research facilities that served the galaxy, which also meant that the planet thrived on interplanetary trade. From the radio chatter, Trunks determined that there were a lot of ships that were regularly en route to and from the planet.

Unfortunately, the planet was at the far edge of the "safe" distance where Trunks felt comfortable flying and landing the ship; but that wasn't the biggest concern on Trunks' mind.

To Trunks' chagrin, a commercial planet with a major interplanetary trading port also meant trouble.

There would be a lot of different species of aliens, most of them space-hardened, and many were likely to also be survivors of Frieza's former space military, either as victims or oppressors - it didn't matter. Some form of trauma was present in almost everyone's eyes.

From their travels in space, Trunks learned that many societies were still impacted by the fallout of Frieza's forces, and overall the galaxy was still angry about it. After all, it had only been around 33 years since Frieza's forces had been defeated on Namek. Many planets were still in the beginnings of their recovery.

Most seasoned aliens harbored grudges and xenophobia, and in port planets, there was a higher probability of getting into trouble. There was still a general hatred of Saiyans in the universe as well. Pan and Goku had experienced prejudice during their travels just from their looks alone. Their presence generally instilled bad moods among aliens on commercial trade planets, and both of them tended to receive double-takes from anxious older aliens whose eyes immediately searched their hips for any evidence of tails.

Trade planets meant trouble, and Trunks wanted to avoid altercations as much as possible. He would have preferred to bypass the planet entirely and continue to search for the last Dragon Ball, but destiny forced its way. For the sake of purchasing fuel, Trunks had to go there. There was no other planet or moon nearby that they could safely reach.

With fuel conservation in mind, Trunks calculated the best time for their takeoff. Ideally, they would depart within a window between midnight and 3am, to launch them on the quickest trajectory toward Planet Vidal. The timing seemed to work out well; once they would be on their way, a direct path would get them to Vidal in about 12 Stellar hours. They'd get a chance to enjoy some breakfast before docking at port.

Seeing as it would be another 7 hours until Trunks needed to start preparing for launch, Trunks felt anxious and cooped up. He recognized that he was wearing stress on his body, and he had not relieved the kinetic energy in his hands from earlier.

Trunks needed a clear space to get the energy out, and still needed his workout. However, Trunks sensed Goku downstairs in the gym, and reconsidered where he wanted to go. Trunks in general preferred to be alone so he could get into a "zone." Trunks found that Goku liked to talk a lot to rile up their workout, and Trunks was not in a mood for any kind of conversation. He had too much on his mind, and was hoping for some personal time.

Unable to access the gym equipment without spurring Goku to start following him, Trunks resolved that he could still use a good stretch.

Stepping into the living room, Trunks first headed to the bedroom.

Trunks changed into a navy blue short-sleeved workout shirt and loose-fitting long black athletic pants. He then stood in front of the mirror that hung on the closet door, and observed his look.

Trunks' eyes immediately judged his own hair. It looked awful - tangled and awry since his swim in the reflection room's pool. He hadn't had a chance to brush it since then.

Normally, Trunks' hair had a Saiyan tendency to fall into place on its own and keep its form, but when his hair started to grow out, its thin texture tended to kink and tangle, and it became harder to manage. The fact that his hair was already needing to be brushed was a sign that he needed to cut his hair again soon.

Knowing he was due for a shower, and feeling too lazy to brush it until after his workout, Trunks thought of Pan for a minute, and opened his top drawer in the closet.

Trunks pulled out his blue bandana.

Trunks then bent over, and secured the bandana around his head, tying a knot. Trunks stood up straight again, flipping his hair and bandana back, and observed himself in the mirror.

Ideally, he would have looked like Pan.

"Ah!" Trunks gasped in the mirror, horrified and appalled by how bad he looked.

He resembled some kind of cleaning maid, which made him think that Pan probably looked like a cleaning maid, and he had just gotten used to that look on her. At this point, only Pan could pull off that look. It was just plain awful on his head. He would not be caught dead with Goku's camera as a constant threat on board.

Trunks grumpily took the bandana off his head, and instead re-wrapped it to protect one of Trunks' hot spots on his body - his neck.

In general, Trunks disliked anything touching his neck. Ever since his dad had chopped it on the Day of Majin Buu, the back of his neck had always been very sensitive. As a result, Trunks preferred to wear clothing that protected, or wicked moisture away from his neck, such high-collared jackets, high-necked blue Saiyan armor, turtleneck shirts, hoodies, scarves, and bandanas.

For the last several years, Trunks gravitated to his blue bandana as his neck covering of choice.

Similar to how peoples' eye colors seemed to change in different lighting, Trunks' hair color came across differently based on what he was wearing. The more red-toned the bandana, the more his hair appeared blue; and the more blue-toned the bandana, the more his hair appeared dark lavender. He preferred the blue bandana because his lavender-toned hair made him identify more like his Grandpa Brief.

One quality that Trunks noticed about his hair was that it had started to grow in darker while on the trip. While on one hand, Trunks knew that hair tended to get darker with age, he also noted how he was no longer able to get his normal sun bleaching while in space, and the natural blue undertones of his hair made his coloring appear more purple than lavender.

As Trunks scrutinized his hair, he combed his fingers through it to organize his bowl cut a bit. He knew that he needed to trim it soon, but he had a slew of other priorities on his mind and kept forgetting to bring this up with Pan. After his own attempt to cut his hair three months into the trip, he decided he didn't want to undergo that stress again, and was hoping that Pan might help him this time around.

When his hair looked decent enough sporting what looked more like a beach wave than a tangled nest, Trunks decided it was good enough for now, and then refocused his attention toward options to let out his pent-up energy.

Reaching out his ki senses, Trunks again confirmed that Goku and Pan were still occupying the lower floor. It left him with one last option for working out in solitude - the observation room.

For a long time, even the thought of the observation room triggered thoughts of Goten - and if Trunks was being honest with himself, he was thinking of Goten again right now, but something had shifted in the last couple days. Instead of associating the room with feelings of loss and despair, Trunks now felt… neutral. He didn't even feel the soreness of an old emotional wound.

If anything, he might have been feeling good … like he was mentally healing, and he was looking forward to a workout there, planning to stretch and do some isometric workouts such as planks, lunges, squats, and a few hundred push-ups.

Trunks left the bedroom and entered the circular living room. He walked to the pole which was offset from the center of the room. Levitating upward, he entered the observation room…

… Or at least, it should have been the observation room.

What…

As Trunks rose up into the room, and continued to rise up, all that Trunks saw, from the floor to mid-way up the low ceiling, was a cylindrical wall of rocks around the entrance, as if the living room were at the base of a well.

"What the fuck?!" Trunks was astounded, and mostly furious.

Trunks ascended up to the roof of the room, where he finally reached the top of whatever the fuck was in the observation room, and then bent so he could enter a fucking crawl space at the top of a whole sea of STUFF, forced to bend over so his head wouldn't hit the damned glass ceiling. The entire space was covered in dunes of this shit - just rocks and crystals and sticks of things and woven things and statues and figurines and boxes of who-knows-what and other trinkets. And in between all of the big items were thousands and thousands of little items - pebbles, smoothed stones, painted artifacts, carved tchotchkes, musical instruments, and many unidentifiable objects.

The observation room was a fucking MESS.

"WHAT. IS. THIS?!" Trunks could not contain himself as the energy in his arms sparked sudden rage in his chest. He was going to explode, he just could not even fathom how this wreck of a room even happened. "GOKU!"

This was one of the moments when Trunks had to play the adult on the trip. This was unacceptable! Unliveable! Completely disrespectful of their common space!

-SCHWING!-

Goku instant-transmitted in front of him in a sitting position, as if he had been lifting weights, and then landed on a pile of long, sharp crystals that jabbed him in the rear.

"Owwwww!" Goku jumped to his feet with tears in the corners of his eyes, "Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!" Goku uttered nonsensical sounds as he rubbed his butt and sniffed, able to barely fit in the space with his young body.

Trunks was in no mood for games. He pointed down to the mess around them, "What is this?!"

Goku's mouth burst into a sheepish grin and shrugged, "Oh yeah! I forgot all this stuff was here."

Trunks was exasperated. "Clean it up, Goku!"

"Hey, it's kinda fun to walk on," Goku balanced himself as he hopped among the artifacts.

"Good for you! Have fun while you organize everything!"

Trunks reached into a small pocket within his glove, where he pulled out a capsule he always kept on hand. He clicked a button on the capsule, and it popped into a full capsule case, which he caught in the air. He selected several empty capsules, and put the rest of the case away.

"Here are some empty capsules." Trunks tossed the capsules to Goku, who caught all of them at once, "Keep the button pressed down as you tap items, and they'll pop into the capsule. If you see any particularly special items, organize them into the other capsules so we can review them later."

"So I can put whatever I want into each capsule?" Goku inquired with curious eyes.

"Sure, whatever. Just make sure you get every last pebble." Trunks gestured to the glass ceiling, "No loose rocks in here, you hear me?! I expect all of this to be cleaned up before takeoff!"

"But it's so much," Goku whined.

Trunks harrumphed, "Good, you'll get your exercise then!"

Trunks wished he had a microphone to drop. He was done. Any more time here, and he'd just end up blowing up, and he was again frustrated because he could not work out.

Trunks worked his way back to the top of the "well hole" in the observation room. Now that Goku was in here, Trunks decided he could finally get some solid time in the actual gym.

Before jumping down to the living room, Trunks turned his head to see Goku break out into a gleeful grin as he touched an item and it popped like magic into the capsule. At least Goku found it fun to clean it up.

Trunks also acknowledged that he had confidence in Goku's ability to do this task. Trunks was fairly certain that sorting objects was a project that even a monkey could do.

—-

Trunks spent a large part of the afternoon in the gym doing stretches, lifting weights, and taking a long, cathartic run on the treadmill, wearing his virtual reality goggles to simulate running along the beach. The magnetic weights on his ankles help to create a drag so it felt fairly authentic to the real thing.

After his workout, Trunks entered the lower hall and stealthily checked the doorknob of the office, but found it was still locked.

Pan had still not emerged from the office. Whatever this "project" was, it was taking all fucking day.

Trunks knew that Pan was not aware of his decision to hold off their launch until around midnight. Nevertheless, she was still violating an important code of space traveling ethics - she should have assumed that they'd want to depart as soon as possible. She shouldn't have been taking this long. Trunks had no idea what she was even working on.

However, since there was no urgency to disturb her, and not in the mood to hear Pan yell at him, Trunks decided to leave her alone.

Trunks ascended the stairs to the main floor and made his way to the bathroom. There, he undressed and enjoyed a long, relaxing steam shower.

He took his time, since there was no rush.

Despite spending a full forty minutes in the shower, by the time Trunks got out, he sensed that Pan was still working on her project, and it was already close to the hour when they should start thinking of what to make for dinner.

Sensing Goku still upstairs, and hearing Giru chirping away in the cockpit as he monitored and logged space chatter, Trunks emerged from the bathroom naked, and with his towel flung over his shoulder.

When Trunks was back in the bedroom, he put his brown gloves back on, and then got dressed in his favorit outfit, which he already considered to be a personal classic: a black long-sleeved shirt, topped off with his classic blue bandana around his neck, and a beige semi-casual business blazer with matching khaki shorts. Pan called this particular outfit his "Geeky Trunks" look, which she abbreviated into his "GT" look, as a play-on-words of "Grand Tour."

Despite how warm his "GT" beige blazer appeared, it was quite comfortable. It was made from a very breathable heat-resistant cloth, and helped balance Trunks' temperature in most moderate weather, regardless of how hot or cold it was around him. The fabric was such a unique material, that Trunks could do a whole sparring session in his blazer and still not overheat.

This particular blazer was designed by Android 18, who was known to the rest of the world as "Lazuli Chestnut," Editor-in-Chief of her printed fashion and pop culture magazine, Eighteen.

The beige jacket was a "thank you" gift to Trunks for allowing Eighteen to publish a featured centerfold article about how Trunks was Eighteen 's "Most Beautiful Man in the World" in Age 792. At the time, Lazuli's magazine was not selling well, and went to Capsule Corporation for investment opportunities. His mother Bulma, ever the family friend yet also a business shark, had negotiated a 40% ownership stake of the magazine in exchange for regular appearances by Trunks within their articles, all without consulting him for his approval or opinion.

His mother almost had to drag him to the photoshoot, fighting with him tooth and nail over it. His decision to do it ultimately came down to a call from Marron, Trunks' family friend growing up, who had personally asked for the favor because the magazine's poor sales had been affecting her parents' marriage at home. Trunks would never turn down a family friend for a favor like that, so Trunks acquiesced and did the stupid photoshoot for Eighteen magazine.

That entire day, his mother had hovered around him to make sure he posed with enthusiasm. He fucking hated every part about modeling for cameras, and he kept reminding himself he was doing this to help a friend in need. Ultimately, his personal sacrifice paid off. The magazine went viral and sold out everywhere; even the reprints in following weeks sold out.

It might have been the centerfold of him topless by the pool which broke its sales records. Capsule Corporation made a 4500% return on that investment alone, which not only saved the magazine and Marron's family, but it also made everyone a shit ton of money.

That's when it became evident that Trunks' looks were so marketable that he could sell anything just by being in a photo with it. That's when everything spun out of control with the company wanting to use his image in magazines, and to force him to all those red carpet events to promote pop stars and celebrities. At least it was a reciprocal business relationship; while Trunks boosted the celebrity of his "arm candy," escorts, they also served him by helping to steer off any sexual harassment or being approached by anyone else. In general, his escorts knew not to touch him anywhere outside of approved photographic pose spots, and he equally respected their own personal bubbles.

All of the red carpet bullshit started after the company learned it could make money by marketing Trunks' looks. It all started because of that Eighteen magazine article, followed by corporate greed.

Back home, Trunks was a slave to the corporate machine, and as the new "face of the company," the marketing department quickly began to manage his branded looks. He found his "GT" look was neutral enough that nobody ever called it out, and so it became his staple. He liked that the blazer was beige, and was a bit of a standout.

He found solace in that the color was socially acceptable, yet still a little rebellious. Everyone else in West City wore black suits to work, and Trunks felt he got away with his beige outfit by reminding people it was his thank-you gift for making the company a whopping $16 trillion zeni of revenue practically overnight. From that one article, Trunks ended up making his first trillion - specifically, $1.6 trillion based on that one royalty deal, alone. It was the first time he ever felt rich. Before that, he had a trust fund that he simply inherited, but that one article changed everything; it went specifically into his private savings account, and from that moment on, he had pure, untrackable autonomy. So, in some ways, the blazer represented freedom to Trunks.

And, despite its complicated history, the blazer was actually pretty awesome, and comfortable. It also was a good color to blend his brown gloves with the rest of his look, so it remained his go-to jacket.

There was a time when Trunks had intended to order a dozen more versions of his blazer in various colors, but he never ended up placing that order. As part of purchasing its 40% stake of the magazine, Capsule Corporation did an audit of Eighteen 's factory suppliers, and learned that that child labor had been used as part of the manufacturing process of its jackets. In order to remediate its staffing, the cost to produce the jackets would have exceeded the price which customers and clients were willing to pay. In the end, the decision to discontinue the jacket came down to an age-old economic principle of Supply and Demand. The blazers had been discontinued before they were ever produced ethically again.

Trunks kept his unethically produced blazer, though. After all, it was a gift, and he felt it kind of represented him a bit - an adult, with a secretly naughty background, and just loud enough to catch attention, while still being perceived as a nerd…

… At least, that's the look that he was going for. And every time Pan called him a nerd, it made him proud to know how he succeeded with his look. All of Pan's heckling actually made him want to wear it all the time. Thus, it became the "go-to" look - or again, the "GT" look. He felt he personally identified with it in many ways.

Finishing his outfit by tying his blue bandana around his neck, Trunks sighed and stretched, and decided he felt pretty good. He glanced at his watch and confirmed that they had another six hours until he should consider their launch. He looked out the window to see that the sky was still blue, but the sun was fairly low in the sky.

As he stepped out into the living room, he could hear clattering to his right. From the shuffling sounds, it was clear that it was Goku, who must have finished his observation room task, and was now rustling about in the kitchen.

Trunks poked his head into the kitchen, saw that Goku had some bread and condiments out, prepared to make some kind of sandwich. It reminded him that it was time to start prepping dinner. It also made him more conscientious of the fact that Pan was still downstairs, doing her project.

When Goku started to smear peanut butter on his bread, Trunks stepped in and silently started to reorganize the bottles of condiments that Goku had strewn about while searching for the peanut butter jar.

Trunks looked over to Goku's sandwich.

"What are you making?" Trunks felt curious, seeing cold-cut meats also on the counter.

Goku paused and lifted his peanut butter knife, to study his concoction. "I was kinda in the mood for turkey, but also for peanut butter and jelly, but also wanted some raisiny flavor, so I said, why not all of it?! Wanna try?"

"I-uh- OMPH!" Trunks opened his mouth to reply, but got a sandwich stuck in his mouth instead.

Groaning internally, Trunks took a bite.

Trunks chewed it a few times and determined that it at least was not poison. It actually wasn't as awful tasting as it sounded, but the jelly overpowered the flavor of the turkey with its sweetness.

Trunks swallowed, and smacked his lips, "I think there's a better alternative to the jelly."

"Oh?" Goku perked up, biting the sandwich.

"Why don't you try sour green apple slices instead?" Trunks used a kitchen towel to wipe his mouth from the sticky traces of the jelly.

"Huh, applesh?" Goku blinked as he chewed the sandwich.

Trunks tried to think back to some cookbooks he had skimmed early on in the trip. "I think they could complement the nutty peanut butter with some sour and acidic sweetness. Also they might give a good crispy texture to the sandwich, as a substitute for cucumbers or lettuce."

"Mwoahhh," Goku was amazed as he bit into more of the sandwich, "That'ch shoundsh amazhing." He swallowed, "How do you invent such creative food stuff?"

"Woah, Goku, I'm not a chef. I just read some cookbooks early on to get a general idea of the process. You're the inventor," Trunks grinned.

"Hehe!" Goku grinned and finished up the sandwich, wiping his hands on his blue gi top, "Want me to make you some?"

Trunks smiled, thinking this was probably the most normal weird-sandwich Goku had ever made. Goku was getting a little better at this. "Yes please, and Pan too."

As Goku started to slice green apples, Trunks started to prepare dinner, since his dinners took a while to cook.

Trunks uncapsulized a large duck. With practiced efficiency, Trunks heavily seasoned it with salt and pepper, and covered it with a sweet bean sauce that he had seen among the condiments. Then, after Goku was done with the cutting board, Trunks sliced up scallions and "borrowed" some of the pile of Goku's sliced apples to stuff inside the duck, along with star anise, cinnamon, and bay leaves.

Trunks set the duck to roast in the oven, knowing it would be a three hour process for how he preferred to slow-cook it. Calling Giru in from the cockpit, Trunks then set a timer with the little robot, and instructions for Giru to heat up some of Chi Chi's frozen spring pancakes to serve with the duck once it was done rendering all of its fat as it slowly cooked.

Trunks liked cooking birds whole because they were fairly easy and quick to prep, and the oven did most of the work to supply the flavor. The oven was particularly great because it meant Trunks didn't need to hover around a stove; For Trunks, the time it took to cook always involved some kind of culinary compromise for the sake of efficiency. For example, he liked to use a combination of some of the pre-made resources, or frozen items such as tonight's spring pancakes, to mix with his fresh meals.

After the duck was in the oven, Trunks taught Giru how to julienne cucumbers and more scallions for serving later. He was impressed by how Giru learned so quickly.

One of the things that Trunks was intending to prioritize teaching to Giru was how to do meal preparation, like what he was teaching the little robot now. Once Giru would achieve a respectable level of diligence, Trunks intended to start passing dinner duties onto Giru entirely. Giru would best juggle and optimize the ship's food inventory and follow cookbooks more efficiently. Giru taking over as the ship's cook would also prevent situations such as Goku's raisin-cracker pancakes from ever happening again.

"Tadaaa!" Goku exclaimed triumphantly, then smacked the table. He enthusiastically started to hop on each foot while gesturing toward the sandwiches on the table, eagerly trying to catch Trunks' attention.

Trunks looked over to see that Goku made six sandwiches - two stacks of three sandwiches, each with extra peanut butter, and covered in raisins and apple slices that bookended slices of turkey.

Trunks picked up one of the sandwiches and bit into it. He felt that the sandwich had a little too much peanut butter, but it otherwise had a surprisingly balanced flavor. The apples with the peanut butter greatly neutralized the nuttiness, and the sweet raisins complemented the savory mesquite turkey meat.

As he thickly swallowed, Trunks realized it was… bizarrely good. While smacking his mouth, then taking another bite of his sandwich, Trunks raised his right thumb of approval to Goku, who beamed.

The sandwiches were also great for another purpose. Since Pan likely didn't have lunch, Trunks figured she might be hungry at this point, and he needed some kind of excuse to go down and see her without her biting his head off.

Trunks picked up her plate of three sandwiches in hand, and, finishing the sandwich in his own hand, carried Pan's plate down the spiral staircase with him.

–––––––

Trunks checked on Pan again, and the door was still locked.

He knocked his signature knocking code - Morse code for "TB," which was two long knocks and three short ones.

There was silence on the other end, and Trunks did another knock - this time, a typical three-knock at the door.

"You okay?"

There was no reply, but Trunks caught the sound of rustling.

The silence perturbed him. It was evident that Pan's mood had soured to the point she didn't even want to talk to him, and Trunks felt it was unfair. He had no clue what this was about.

"Knock Knock," Trunks said lightheartedly through the door, trying not to sound timid.

"I'm not here" was Pan's muffled reply.

"No, you're supposed to ask 'Who's there'," Trunks grinned slightly, trying to lighten the mood.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes right now," Pan's voice sounded disheartened.

"Knock Knock," Trunks urged.

There was a sigh on the other side of the door, "Who's there?"

"Haiku," Trunks stood straight and tried again at the handle out of curiosity, but it was still locked.

"Haiku who?"

"Hai-kud you please answer the door?" Trunks's used the most pleading tone that he could.

Pan's sigh on the other side of the door sounded exasperated, and Trunks knew he'd won.

The door unlocked, and opened a crack. Just a little bit - enough for Trunks to see the light of the inside of the room as Pan spoke to him from behind the door, "What do you want?"

"Need any help?" Trunks asked, since he had the opportunity.

"No," Pan tried to shut the door, but Trunks leaned in and held it open before it could click. Pan didn't realize yet, but Trunks already won the door game. He was willing to go Super Saiyan if needed, to keep this door ajar.

"Do you want some turkey sandwiches, courtesy of Goku?" Trunks offered through the cracked-open door.

There was a pause, and then the door opened more, and Trunks was finally able to see Pan's face.

When he saw her eyes, his blood drained from his face and ran cold. He felt a sudden rush of torment as he saw the redness of her face and wetness of her cheeks.

Pan had been crying.

Trunks' eyes went wide, and he couldn't help the words come out, "What's wrong?!"

Pan yelped, and was suddenly no longer interested in the sandwiches, as she tried to slam the door shut.

Trunks this time was steadfast, and used his ki to reinforce his arm to prevent her from closing the door all the way. When Pan tried to push harder, Trunks charged up his energy even more. He would win against this teenage drama game.

"Go away!" Pan shouted as she tried to close the door on him.

"No, you've been crying!" Trunks pushed back, dead-set on winning their door duel.

"It's none of your business," Pan shrieked, her tears renewed as she pushed.

"Yes it IS! Are you hurt?" Trunks pushed harder, charging up his energy to overcome hers at a steady pace, as to not overwhelm her. He made headway with the door pushing open.

"Stop," Pan desperately called out in a broken voice as she was losing ground.

"No." Trunks put his foot down. "You've had more than enough time to figure out how to handle whatever this is on your own. I gave you your space, but now I'm stepping in as your friend, husband, and pilot of the ship, and it's time for you to talk to me."

Pan cried and let the door push open all the way.

"I feel humiliated," Pan wiped her eyes, "I want to go home."

The world suddenly crushed Trunks in a gravity he had not felt in a long time.

Trunks' voice got caught in his throat, and he felt his heart skip a beat. One moment, everything felt fine, and suddenly CRASH - the rollercoaster he didn't even know he was on suddenly did a loop and hit a wall, shattering everything.

"W-what?" Trunk stammered, not understanding why Pan would say something so jarring, so uncharacteristic, and out of nowhere.

"I didn't prepare for this trip," Pan wailed and kept wiping her eyes as the tears continued to fall, "I don't know what to do."

Trunks looked up to the workstation to see balls of cotton-like material resting all over his equipment, and fabrics cut and hung like ribbons and webs in the office. It was an absolute mess, and Trunks understood nothing of it. What was happening?

"What's going on?" Trunks frowned, feeling his chest constricted and pained.

Pan looked away, "You're just going to make fun of me."

"What's wrong?" Trunks pressed, feeling his protective nature kick in, and his energy rose in a defensive feeling for her. He felt tendrils of anguish threaten to uncurl and grab at his heartstrings at any moment.

Pan pushed past Trunks, and out into the small hallway.

"I want to go home," Pan stated resolutely, through tears, and then started to walk up the spiral stairs.

Trunks was not expecting this. This was outside of Pan's nature, and whatever was gripping her right now must be traumatic for her to want to leave like this, out of nowhere, after she and Trunks just got married. Trunks was at a loss. He had no idea what was wrong. He had no idea how he could help. He had no idea what he did.

Trunks felt those tendrils of anguish tear away at his chest as a tempest of grief. "What…"

Trunks felt shocked and hurt, with pangs of panic and confusion and betrayal all hitting him at once. He felt desperate. He felt he was being abandoned. It all just came out of nowhere.

"N… no…." Trunks' breath hitched, and he felt his whole body flood with despair at the thought of losing her so soon. It felt like a sick joke. What was happening?!

"Maybe Grandpa can reach home by now."

At Pan's very suggestion, Trunks' former dream felt like a nightmare as everything seemed to spin out from under him.

Trunks dropped the plate of sandwiches. It crashed to the floor, and he didn't notice at all.

Shock and anguish shot through his heart as he tried to conceive why she would say something like this, to even want something like this.

They just got married yesterday… he thought he was happy. He thought things were good. Where did he mess up?! What did he do wrong?!

Trunks viscerally moaned in grief, shaking from his core, and walked like a zombie to the stairs, watching her ascend out of his life. "What did I do?" He brought his hands to his hair, "Pan, what did I do?!"

A thousand memories of the prior day rushed through Trunks' head, and all of them he regretted. All of his bad decisions, he wished they never happened. He was such a fool. He was such a moron. How could he have done whatever he did to make her want to leave him like this?!

"What did I do?!" Trunks cried again.

Trunks felt his resolve crack and break as he watched her ascend, intent on leaving him. All of his composure vanished as he relived old emotions of desperation and tremendous despair - a cyclone of self-hatred that had trapped him for so long.

He fucked up. He fucked up so badly that even Pan, such a forgiving soul, would want to leave him.

At the top of the stairs, Pan hesitated and looked down to Trunks, with an expression on her face that communicated her own pain.

Trunks couldn't help his stinging eyes from overflowing and betraying his anguish. He cried and wiped his eyes, shaking his shoulders as his body racked sobs. He was blinded by his tears at the base of the stairs. He could only moan her name, in mourning, "Pan… "

Pan made a hitching sound at the top of the stairs, and hesitated as she watched him.

He didn't know what to do. He could chase her, but to where? She would always just want to leave him.

Trunks moaned again, feeling his chest constrict, and he was unable to control his breathing.

He watched as Pan descended the spiral stairs back to him, quickly pattering her feet on the steps.

At the base, Pan met Trunks, and leapt to him, wrapping her arms around his back as she hugged him tightly, squeezing with all that she had, as she buried her face in his chest.

He looked down at her in shock, through his wet eyes.

"Trunks…" Pan cried into him with a strained voice, "I don't want to leave you."

Trunks' voice was also strained as he felt an ocean of emotions crash like waves on a cliff, "I don't want you to go."

He felt at the edge of a stormy sea, as her head and her hair pressed into him. His arms didn't know where to go, but he wanted her against him. It felt so good for her to hold him. He brought his arms around her back and hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair.

Pan sniffed against him, her breaths calming as if being against him made her more comfortable, "I… I…" she cried silently, "I need help, Trunks."

Trunks' voice shrill as his heart was racing. "How?!" He stepped back, separating from her as he looked directly at her face, "How can I help you?!" He then unconsciously grabbed her hands, squeezing hard, looking at her eagerly, with wild and wet eyes.

Pan sniffled as she looked at their hands held together, "I… I need to learn how to sew…"

Huh?

Trunks was taken aback. That was the last thing he was expecting to hear.

"Sew?" Trunks was incredulous as he stared down at her with his wet eyes.

Trunks never considered that sewing could be something to cry about… With a sniff, he wiped his eyes, and suddenly started to feel a little foolish. Sewing?!

"Yeah… like, with needles and thread n' stuff…" Pan looked away shyly, looking a little sheepish and guilty.

"For what?" Trunks tried to understand, but his head was swimming. What about sewing would make Pan want to go home and leave Trunks?

"For…" Pan blushed with wet eyes, "Pads…"

"Pads…?"

Trunks was lost in misunderstanding. In his opinion, they had more than enough safety equipment on board. There were entire capsules of padding and other gear available whenever she wanted.

"You know… pads… " Pan shifted her eyes down and away.

Trunks looked to her blankly, thinking of their entire arsenal boxing helmets and padded gloves.

Then, Trunks thought back to what Goku said earlier. Goku implied that Pan wanted to buy something in the market supportive for her chest…

Trunks inhaled sharply, in realization. He pieced the clues together, and quickly realized what this was actually about.

He flushed, with total understanding.

Trunks suddenly felt immense guilt. He had not realized that his statement in the reflection room had been so damaging to her. He never anticipated that his comment would hurt her as deeply as it did.

He hadn't meant any harm by it. He had assumed that she had moved on that conversation once they had passed through the portal in the reflection room. But… now that he looked back on it, he must have given her an immense sense of insecurity about her body.

Did Pan think that Trunks intended to body shame her? Of course she'd want to leave Trunks if she felt that way. What the fuck woman would want to be around a man who made her feel ashamed of her body like that?!

He didn't mean it that way. He didn't want her to think that at all. That's not what he meant!

"I… I get it," Trunks' eyes were haunted and sorrowful, "I'm so sorry."

"You're sorry?" Pan furrowed her brow.

She seemed surprise by how quickly Trunks came around to apologize. He knew he could be stubborn. But he didn't mean to hurt her. He never meant to hurt anyone, and certainly not Pan.

Trunks breathed and gestured around to her fabrics in the office, "Listen, you don't need to go through all this... I wouldn't even worry about it."

"Huh?" Pan's face flattened and her eyes narrowed.

Trunks looked back to her eyes and nodded in support, "Look, if you ever need it, there's always solutions."

Pan's expression was dumbfounded, "What are you talking about?"

Trunks gestured around again, "I'm saying there are doctors for this. They specialize in this, and I support whatever makes you feel confident."

Pan just looked deadpan at him.

Trunks clarified, emphasizing each word, "You don't need the pads."

Pan looked at him like he was an idiot. "Yes, I do."

"Don't make the pads just because of me, Pan."

"Because of you?!" Pan flushed, "What kind of pads are you talking about?"

Trunks suddenly felt unsure of himself, "What kind of pads are YOU talking about?!"

"My PERIOD!"

Trunks gasped in reflex.

Pan put her hands over her mouth and squeaked as she turned several shades of red for yelling it aloud.

Trunks blushed deeply as his face turned crimson. "Ooooohhhhh…."

Trunks looked to the office, "Um…." He awkwardly looked away while nervously scratching behind his neck, finally piecing together all the clues, and feeling a new wave of embarrassment, "R-right… Pads…"

"I wasn't prepared," Pan looked away, wiping her eyes, "I didn't even think about it."

Trunks also wiped his eyes, feeling a sense of relief that came out as an unintended stress chuckle, "Ehehehe…" He blushed a bit and ran his hand through his hair, "I didn't think about it, either…"

Trunks' heart still raced as Trunks' mind recovered from his earlier despair. As he tried to think of a solution, Trunks realized he was guilty for not being well versed to give much advice on the subject.

Pan teared up again and wiped her eyes. "I keep messing up the sewing. It's all so uncomfortable, and I don't know what to do."

"So…" Trunks' voice came across as hopeful, looking around the room, "That's all this is? You just need pads?"

Pan sniffed, and wiped her eyes with a shy nod.

"I, um," Trunks bit his lip, and then wet his lips in thought. "... Let me help you."

Pan looked down and away, "Do you know how to sew?"

"No. Not a clue," Trunks admitted bashfully.

"Well, I don't know what you can do, then," Pan shrugged defeatedly.

"Let's not give up quite yet," Trunks tried to sound supportive, "Maybe we have something already?"

Pan rolled her eyes, "There wouldn't already be something on the ship. You know that, Trunks."

"No, we don't know that for sure." Trunks tried to reassure her, "I know we have at least a few bathroom capsules we haven't opened yet, so maybe let's not give up hope yet, okay?" He shot her a supportive grin.

Pan nodded solemnly, and stepped past him, back into the office.

Trunks followed her through the doors, and passed her to eye the different shelves of capsule containers. He sorted through the categories, and then picked one out.

Holding it up, he squinted to read the small print. He turned to his work desk, where he picked up his black glasses frames, and then slid them to rest on his nose. Using their magnifying feature, Trunks easily read the fine print on the capsule. He confirmed that it was labeled Bathroom - Miscellaneous Items.

Trunks grinned supportively to her, "Alright! Here goes." Then, he tossed the capsule to the center of the room, and it POOFED.

They both shrieked in surprise.

Hundreds of porn magazines popped out like fireworks of fluttering paper, all around them.

"OH NO!" Trunks screeched and turned away when he realized what they were. "They're EVERYWHERE!" His face flared red in embarrassment, "Oh gods! She got me again!"

"Hahahaha!" Pan's reaction was immediate and guttural, "Hahahahahaha!" She picked up a magazine of a woman with a raunchy octopus on the cover, "What is this?! Hahahahaha!"

"Stop it," Trunks felt he was dying from humiliation as he grabbed at whatever magazines he could gather, "Get out of here," he wailed, "This isn't mine!"

Pan just about died laughing.

Trunks moaned in disgrace, "This is awwwwwwful. They're everywhere."

"Aaahahahahha," Pan cackled uncontrollably as she kept picking up magazines that got raunchier and raunchier as she sorted through them. Pan chuckled and looked to Trunks. Her wet eyes had shifted from despair to mirth, "I think it must be karma."

"I want to die right now," Trunks felt only anguish as he shyly tried to keep his eyes away from the covers as he gathered more piles.

"Who did this?" Pan bent to start collecting the magazines too.

"My mom. It's always my mom," Trunks groaned as he worked.

"Your mom is hilarious." Pan grinned.

"No, this is awful. I'm so embarrassed."

Pan roared in laughter again, "Why are there MEN'S MAGAZINES here too?!"

"Oh nooo," Trunks felt like he wanted to shrink and melt into the floor as he moaned in shame, "I'm going to die."

Pan started to laugh hysterically again. She had never seen Trunks so embarrassed, and Trunks felt like he was caught with his pants down. Pan's hysterics triggered Trunks to also start to laugh. Soon, they were both rolling forward, curled in laughter within the sea of inappropriate magazines up to their calves all around them.

"Oh gods," Pan looked around at the room, stifling a chuckle as she wiped her eye, "How are we going to clean all of this up?!"

Regaining some of his composure, Trunks did a visual sweep of the room, and put his hands on his hips, "I've got a guy for this." He waded through the magazines to the office door, and shouted through the hall, "Hey, Giru!"

Within moments, there was a bleep, a boop, and a whizzing sound from the kitchen upstairs, and Giru enthusiastically whirled overhead, and surfed the whole spiral banister down as an epic slide. At the base, he jumped into the air and did a cartwheel, and then spun in the air, stopping to face the two of them with a spread-eagle pose and a peace-sign in each hand.

Giru bleeped, "Reporting to Bullhead Briefs, Hero of Earth, Emperor of the Universe, and Best Husband Ever!"

"Whaaaaaat?" Pan almost choked on her breath.

"Hi Giru!" Trunks grinned proudly, feeling the buzz of accomplishment of a great prank tingle in his chest.

"Hi Bro!" Giru waved with both extended hands.

"Stop ittttt," Pan whined as she was overwhelmed with both cringe and awe, and a hilarity that she couldn't even. She. Could. Not. Even.

"Giru, stack these magazines and toss them back into this capsule." Trunks gestured to the room, "Do it as fast as you can."

Trunks tossed Giru the empty capsule, which Giru easily caught in the air.

Giru giddily confirmed, "Okay, Bro!"

Then, Giru began to clean up the magazines.

The little robot was a whir, as he grabbed four at a time with all of his limbs, and then proceeded to stack them in neat piles. As he worked, his process began to speed up, and his movements began to move in a blur. As quick and agile as a Nimbus cloud, Giru was able to shift his positions, zipping and grabbing and stacking while only appearing as blurred lines followed by rushes of wind.

Pages of magazines ruffled with the strong breeze that followed Giru's movements, and eventually, through the blur, the piles receded and the floor steadily began to be visible again.

When Giru was finished, the gray blur stopped, and Giru did a little twirl in the air. With a click, Giru pressed the capsule button and tossed it to the magazines, which were all touching in their piles. They all vanished into the capsule with a - POP -.

And then, the room was clean again. Well… it was back to the disaster that Pan had left it in… but at least the porn magazines were gone.

Pan's eyes were wide as she looked around then looked to Giru in awe, "Amazing!"

"Good job, Giru," Trunks picked up some of Pan's mess, and brought it to the work bench. "Now that that's over, time to actually get serious. Let's check our inventory to get a better idea of what we're working with."

After Giru landed on Trunks' shoulder, they all looked down to analyze Pan's supplies.

As he leaned, Trunks' hair got in his eyes. In an effort to clear his vision, Trunks pushed his black frames up to the top of his head like a headband as he bent over to look at the swathes of fabrics, craft supplies, and other materials.

Trunks scratched his cheek, "Well there's enough here that I think we could put something together."

Pan's supplies included lots of thin fabrics, cotton-like dried seaweed, cutting materials, different types of glue, a set of small stone needles, and a bunch of balls of the yarn-like thread that had been used on their wedding gowns.

Adding to the pile, Trunks brought out other miscellaneous supplies on the ship: velcro, staplers, paperclips, and even his soldering gun.

Pan sighed in exasperation, "I think this is the most embarrassing moment of my life."

Trunks thought back to their wedding reception, and felt a little glad that it could be buried in the past. "I'm glad there's something new to top the last most-embarrassing moment."

Pan knew what he was talking about, "That also was the most embarrassing moment of my life."

"Hahaha," Trunks chuckled and pulled a stray hair behind his ear as he examined all the materials.

Pan separated fabrics into their own piles, "How is it that I'm always experiencing my most embarrassing moments with you?"

"Well," Trunks also sorted categories of items, "maybe you can see it as something we can both look back at and laugh about later."

"I will never laugh about this," Pan sighed.

"Hey," Trunks stressed, and Pan looked up to his eyes, "Remember the time you got your period on the trip?" He then started to snicker, even though he knew he shouldn't.

"See," Pan huffed, "You're laughing. "

"Come on, it's funny, Pan." Trunks grinned.

"No, it's not funny," Pan frowned.

"It's only not funny if we can't figure out a solution. And then, in that case…" Trunks thought about it, "... Actually, in that case, things would get pretty funny, too."

Pan rolled her eyes, "You can really be the worst sometimes."

"Orrrr," Trunks wanted to lighten the mood, "maybe I can also be the best sometimes! What's my title, Giru?"

Giru chimed happily, "Bullhead Briefs, Defender of Earth, Emperor of Heroism, and Best Husband Ever in the Universe!"

"What…" Pan looked to Giru in confusion.

"You got that right!" Trunks' grin grew impish, "Thanks, Bro!"

Giru twirled, "You're welcome, Bro!"

"No," Pan firmly stated with finality.

"Give me five, Bro!" Trunks held up his hand.

"Bro!" Giru gave him five.

"You…" Pan's eyes went wide in realization, "You broke Giru!"

Trunks laughed heartily, "Actually, I think Giru is more than fine. Right Giru?"

"Right, Bro!"

Pan was exasperated, "Why does he sound like a BRO?!"

Trunks pointed to himself with his right thumb, "Because he's my Bro!"And then… it finally dawned on Pan. Her wide eyes went from confused, to understanding, to disbelief, and then full comprehension. "Is this… a PRANK?"

Trunks clenched his jaw, and almost erupted in as he could barely contain himself, "Nnnnnnnhhhhhghhh… YESSS!" He couldn't contain it anymore, "Ahahahahaha!" Trunks doubled over in laughter.

Giru did a twirl and then rocked out with his hips as he did a little jiggy on the table.

"Giru, do this move," Trunks danced a move called The Floss, swinging his arms back and forth, alternating between the front and back of his body.

Giru began to imitate it perfectly. The little robot was a genius.

Pan howled as she recognized the dance, "No teaching him The Floss! Trunks, this is an emergency, I want to get to work on this!"

"Sheesh, okay, okay," Trunks grinned and did a high shrug, which Giru imitated, "I'm just trying to lighten the mood a bit."

"I know, but I need support."

"You know what, Pan," Trunks felt lighthearted as he felt a reversal of roles, "Please don't take this the wrong way, but…" Trunks grinned slyly, "... sometimes you can be no fun."

"What?!" Pan scowled and stomped her food, "I'm always fun!"

"Yeah, but you know," Trunks gestured to her and then to himself, "you keep telling me to let loose, and I finally do. And then the moment I do, you start sounding like me when you accuse me of being dull."

Pan pouted, "Are you still hung up on that?"

"Actually, yes," Trunks put his hands on his hips, and Giru imitated him on the table. "I'm not dull. In fact, I can be very interesting because I'm inventive. "

"Toot toot!" Pan sarcastically mimed pulling a lever from above her, "I hear you tooting your own horn!"

"Oh, all those toots are coming!" Trunks grinned with his teeth, "We're just getting started." He gestured to the materials, "The challenge here is that I've never worked with fabrics before. But… I'm pretty sure I can figure this out."

Pan whined, "Please don't waste too much of the material trying to figure it out."

"Pfft. Let's see," Trunks sorted through the materials, "Let's label each of these, so it's easy to differentiate."

Trunks reached for something on his work desk, but then stopped. Instead of grabbing something, he seemed a little startled, and started to look around.

Pan bit her lip with scrutinizing eyes, "What are you looking for?"

Trunks was baffled, lifting items to search under piles, "Have you seen my glasses anywhere? I know I just had them." He looked under more papers, and even lifted his laptop, confuddled. He stopped, and scratched the back of his head, looking around in confusion.

Pan eyed the top of Trunks' head as he looked around, bewildered. She covered her mouth to hide a small snicker.

Trunks' eyes shifted around, obviously distracted as he looked around the room before returning his eyes to the items on the table. Frowning, he stated, "Giru, please log:" then, Trunks touched each item and spoke each item name for Giru to learn and categorize.

After he had organized everything with digital names, Trunks looked to Pan, thinking this would be a good learning experience for her to work with artificial intelligence, "Now I just need to assign a proper prompt."

Pan inquired, "A… prompt?"

Trunks took a few minutes to explain to Giru the mechanics of sewing, starting from the basics, of how the string would go into the needle, and how the needle would go through the fabric. He mapped out the entire sequence of events to create a pad.

"Giru, please optimize the steps, and use tight spaces between each needle hole, tight enough to maintain the fabric's integrity and also to create a tight seal." Trunks continued with the prompts, as Pan watched, wide-eyed.

Trunks ended his prompt with a confident final line, "Initiate Pan's Period Pad Problem Project and produce with one sample."

"Oh gods," Pan shied away from the name Trunks labeled the project.

"Initiating Pan's Period Pad Problem Project, Bro!" Giru whirred and bleeped.

Pan thought she would die from embarrassment.

But, then Pan saw Giru rise up, do a few bleeps. As he floated, Giru picked up scissors with his feet, and started to get work on the fabrics, cutting in perfect motions as if he had a blueprint or pattern already measured in his mind. and calculated to scale. He worked in quick, smooth motions, but was notably slower than when he cleaned the magazines, likely to improve his efficiency and quality of work.

Pan marveled as Giru worked, up until he finished the first prototype in just under five minutes.

Giru's pad design was beautiful and looked almost professional. It was also cut in a way to form to her shape.

Pan was amazed as she held it up. "It's… perfect."

Giru whirred happily and danced The Floss in celebration, rocking his little hips as his arms swung in front of his body, then behind.

Chuckling, Trunks ordered Giru to log the blueprint to memory and to continue to produce as many of the pads as Giru could, with the materials they had on hand.

As Giru got back to producing more pads, Pan looked up to Trunks, "How did he know to cut it so well to fit between my hips?"

"Honestly?" Trunks bit his lip to her.

Pan looked to the side, and back to him, raising an eyebrow, "Uh, yes?"

"He probably read the nudey magazines as he put them away," Trunks bit his tongue and grinned, and then his eyes shifted to search the room again.

Pan watched as Trunks continued his search around the room, thinking about how Giru somehow read the porn magazines, "Are you serious?"

"He processes motion images at 70 trillion frames per second, which is fast enough for him to snap a shot of atoms in space. Trust me, he saw all the ladies' hoo-haas," Trunks laughed.

"That was wild," Pan shifted her stance a bit as she appreciated Giru's capabilities in ways she hadn't considered before, "That was so funny."

"But it goes to show, sometimes we can learn from mistakes, and even our embarrassing moments." Trunks searched under his chair.

Pan knew what Trunks was looking for, but still pretended to play dumb, "What are you looking for?"

Trunks muttered under his breath as he started to open drawers to glance inside, "My glasses were just here …"

"Yeah, I saw you wear those earlier," Pan smirked.

Trunks grumbled as he started to look under papers again, "Can you help me look for them?"

Pan looked to them on top of Trunks' head. "How about this - if I find them first, you do dinner for the week."

Trunks stopped and looked at her in disbelief, "What is that, a bet?"

"Yeah!" Pan grinned haughtily.

Trunks smirked back, as Pan knew he would, "What's in it for me?"

Pan kept her eyes on Trunks and grinned puckishly, "If you find them first, then I do dinner for the week."

"Bro!" Giru bleeped as he worked.

"Giru, shut up!" Pan gestured a "cut it" sign to Giru.

"Okay, I'll take the bet," Trunks lifted his laptop again to search underneath.

As Pan registered that the bet was on, and was about to point, traitorous little Giru kibbitzed aloud.

"It's on your head, Bro! -giru giru-"

Pan stumbled on her words, "It's - what- what, wait!"

Trunks touched his head and felt his glasses, and then his toothy grin turned wickedly teasing, "I WIN."

Pan shrieked, "No! You CHEATED!"

"Ahahaha," Trunks laughed heartily, "You set no ground rules, and I work best in teams!"

Pan pouted and stomped her foot, "That's not fair!"

"Oh Pan," Trunks grinned a little wickedly down at her, sliding his glasses back to his eyes, and then pulling them down a bit to peer knowingly at her, "It wasn't fair the moment you made a bet, knowing where they were the whole time."

Pan flushed in a blush. She was caught.

"And now that I've won, I want you to know two things," Trunks came closer to her and touched the base of the palm of her right hand, lulling her into holding his hand as his grin softened to a gentle tease.

"First," Trunks started, "I really like how clever you are." He brought Pan's right hand to his lips, and kissed it in a chivalrous gesture.

Pan blushed with wide eyes.

Trunks lowered her hand, "It takes a certain kind of wit to be able to prank me."

Pan blushed and shifted shyly, not knowing what to do with herself.

"And two," Trunks continued as his lips widened into a sly fox grin, "I want a croquembouche for dessert tonight."

Pan was startled and taken aback. "Croaking what?"

"It's a giant cone-shaped tower-pile of choux pastry puffs, all laced with caramel." Trunks mimed the shape of a pine tree with both hands. "Its a little old Mediterran dish. Shouldn't be too hard if you follow the 40 steps, but you might want to start soon, since it takes, like, 5 hours to make." He gave a snarky grin.

Pan's eyes widened as she realized her mistake, "Noooooooo…"

Trunks smirked, "That's what you get for trying to trick me into a bet. Get to it! Chop chop!" Trunks clapped his hands twice in emphasis.

Pan grabbed the one of the pads and and spun on a dime to start marching out of the room, "You're the worst!"

"Giru," Trunks grinned triumphantly as his eyes stayed locked on Pan, "what's my title?!"

"Bullhead Briefs, Hero of Earth, Emperor of the Universe, and Best Husband Ever!"

Trunks over-laughed dramatically and maniacally, celebrating his win as a small mountain of pads continued to pile up on the table.

–––––––

–––––––

–A: 12/26/23–

–F: 7/23/24–