BY : Demonic_Host
Category: Dragon Ball Z > Het - Male/Female
Dragon prints: 7288
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Dragonball Universe. I make no profit.


Chapter Eighteen


“Okay, who can offer an explanation for this situation?” You asked, triggering the next slide. 


It took a minute for the video to play. When it did, there was a scene that had been recorded on a playground for educational purposes. It centered around a small group of children playing together with a ball. All seemed to be going well until one of the children that was tagged started to act up. Instead of going to the outside as they were obviously meant to, the child threw the ball at the closest child as hard as they could. And from the sound of it, the more aggressive child had already started to cry. 


The video stopped there. You watched as people started to digest what they’d seen. Hopefully a couple of them were formulating hypotheses based on the depicted scene. 


“They were afraid.”


You turned to look at the young adult that had spoken out. When Gohan realized that he’d spoken out without raising his hand and waiting for acknowledgement, his face colored with embarrassment. 


“Oh?” You challenged with a raised eyebrow. 


“Well yeah. It’s obvious that they were nervous playing the game. They weren’t interacting with the other students by comparison. When they were hit with the ball, they showed signs of fear and sadness. With a lack of coping skills for the situation they were in, the child lashed out at the person they felt was rejecting them.”


“Mr. Son,” you said as you turned to the next slide, “normally it would be hard to know for sure what was happening after only just seeing a small clip like this. But in this case, you’re correct. The child was showing signs of an insecure attachment style often referred to as disorganized attachment.”


You went over the different styles of attachment seen in young children. You covered the signs of each style, possible causes, possible short term repercussions, and what each style looked like in real life. As students copied from your slides, you nibbled on a brownie power bar and watched them. You noticed that despite the fact that Gohan was writing everything down his eyes returned to you the moment he could. The intensity in his eyes made you uncomfortable but you couldn’t show the rest of the class that. 


“Did you have a question Mr. Son?”


“What happens when a person with a secure attachment style suddenly has one of the people in their life disappear?” Gohan asked. 


You felt that question like a slap to the face. He was trying to make the lesson personal. Both you and he knew exactly what he was doing. But this was your class. You couldn’t let him dictate your class. 


“Depending on the age—-“




“Well that’s well into adolescence, which is not the age range we’re discussing in this class.”


“But what would you expect to see?”


You clenched your jaw as you stared directly at him. You even put down your super brownie so that you could answer him seriously. 


“Assuming that the child in question was indeed one with a secure attachment style and respected the authority figure, I would expect that they would go through the different stages of grieving,” you saw his mouth start to open so you continued. “If you’re interested in the stages of grief, I would suggest taking a psychology class that goes over that subject matter. It’s not one we’ll have time to cover in this class unfortunately. Does anyone else have any other questions?”


It might have seemed childish but when Gohan raised his hand, you ignored him. In fact you answered as many other people as you could while ignoring the very pointed gaze of that very intense half-saiyan. 




You smiled as you caught your daughter in mid air. She’d launched herself at you from the top of the playground. For most parents nearby it might have been concerning or frightening to have their three year old do that. You hadn’t been scared though. In fact, you were very proud of her. She performed a perfect aerial somersault. 


“You practiced,” you said with a smile. 


She nodded with a wide smile. You sat her down on the ground so that she could run back up through the entire set. It was built for bigger kids as was obvious in the height and spacing of the monkey bars. Yet you watched as she flung herself from the bars, grabbing the next securely before continuing on. As she decided to go the opposite direction when she got to the end, something she couldn’t do when there were a lot of kids there, you picked up the jump rope. You burned through some of your jitters as your daughter burned off some of her excess energy. 


A small beep let you know that time was up. With a light coat of sweat, you grabbed your stuff and looked to see where the energetic child of yours had gotten to. 


“Come on Mila! Mommy has to get back home!”


“5 more minutes?!”


“No. No more minutes.”


You saw her stomp her foot angrily. A small crater formed which made you frown. You turned your back to her all the while turning on your phone's camera and angling it so you could still keep an eye on her. Mila was usually well behaved but she had her moments. They just happened to be when she was able to practice her gymnastics. Given that you wanted her to stay healthy you didn’t want to discourage her from exercising. But at the same time you weren’t going to reward her behavior with your attention. 


So instead you made a big show of walking off without her, all the while keeping her in the camera. She didn’t need to know that you were still watching her. Mila yelled out for you in a tone that you didn’t care for. But you paused and waited for her to catch up. She yelled at you again and you kept “ignoring” her. It wasn’t until the stood quietly beside you that you looked back down at her. 


“I wanted to play.”


“I know,” you acknowledged. “But playtime is done. Now it’s time to go home. Mommy has to work. And daddy was making dinner.”


“Dinner?” Mila asked. 


Cue stomach growling. You laughed at how well timed that was. 


“Yep. Daddy is making curry.”


“Ooooh,” Mila said in rising excitement. “I like daddy’s curry!”


She looked back towards the jungle gym and frowned. No doubt there was a battle being waged in her young mind between playing and eating. Luckily for you her love of food won out. 




The twelve year old looked up from his push ups. His father was working on bicycle sit ups. Of course the gravity was up as high as his mom could get it to go currently. But even with the Prince so focused on his warm ups, he noticed his son’s intense gaze. 


“What?” Vegeta asked briskly. 


“I have a school event tomorrow,” Trunks started out as he continued to do his pushups. Vegeta grunted in acknowledgment. “You going to come?”


“Why would I do that?”


The question wasn’t meant to be cruel. Trunks knew that by now. It was just how his dad was. Though to an outside listener, his returned question would have seemed harsh. 


“I don’t know. I thought you’d want to meet my teacher. She’s—-“


“Your teacher?” Vegeta snorted, pausing mid sit-up before continuing. “Why would I want to meet him? You’ll just get a new one next year.”


“Her,” Trunks corrected his father with a frown as he got to his feet. After everything he’d been through, the gravity wasn’t as hard as it used to be. But it still wasn’t a walk in the park. “I thought with her being like us...you might want to meet her…”


Vegeta stopped as his curiosity got the better of him. “Explain.”


Trunks grinned. “I mean she’s not strong or anything. But yeah, she’s a saiyan like us. And she’s got a kid too. But the kids still a baby so they probably won’t be there.”


The fact that said baby was three years old didn’t make a difference to the half-saiyan. Anyone a lot younger than him and Gohan was a baby in his mind. 


“A saiyan female is teaching at your school?” Vegeta asked in a cynical voice. 


Trunks nodded quickly. Vegeta stood up to regard his son. He nodded. Trunks grinned and celebrated internally. He couldn’t wait to tell Goten that he owed him a candy bar. 

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