Time\'s Lessons Learned

It was great to have doting grandparents willing to babysit the future president of Capsule at the drop of a hat, Bulma Briefs realized. All the years she spent puttering in the lab when she wasn't undertaking child care were frequently breaks from her role as a mother. Added to that was her duties as capsule corps president. While she could hire nannies the best that money could buy, she opted instead to bring her son with her to the office where she could keep an eye on him. Alternatively, she simply allowed her mother to play granny daycare, knowing that her son was receiving the best of care.

For months after Cell's demise, her husband had either disappeared into the wilderness to train or mourn in the Saiyan fashion. It had taken a few weeks of his sitting on the edge of a cliff looking out at the sunsets before she realized she needed to intervene. Fortunately, Future Trunks returned and spent much time with his father, inventing a new goal for Vegeta to accede to. Within an hour of his first visit back, Vegeta and he blasted off to the wilderness and didn't return for an entire week. During that time, she examined the time machine, concerned with the readings on its energy demands. With each trip, the machine required more time to replenish its energy. Bulma's calculations showed disturbing implications, because each time Trunks navigated the temporal stream, he encountered more branch points replete with temporal eddies. Fortunately, between her and her father Dr. Briefs, they programmed an algorithm to help him compensate in the temporal coordinates. One of these times, she feared he wouldn't be able to return to his own time.

Despite the risk of that first visit back, it was more than worth it for it seemed to rejuvenate Vegeta. After Future Trunks visit gradually he spent more time watching her with the baby, and then actually entering the room while she did things as mundane as nursing or changing diapers. Gradually he even would have the child near him as he watched television, or lost himself in what he'd think was some mundane earth activity. Until the child reached age two and things changed.

At first Vegeta spent time simply modulating his energy and showing the child how to control ki. Trunks was fascinated at the glowing aura extending from his father's fingers, and would watch it with a serious face and a wave of his own chubby hand. Or else he would sit up, and toddle over to where Vegeta stood or sat generating the ki ball. Progressively the rapport between father and son unfolded so that Vegeta spent more time pursuing more earthly activities. Trips with Bulma to the shopping mall or to the amusement parks were not uncommon in the next seven years. As Trunks grew older, Vegeta's vow of never fighting again seemed invalid. Bulma allowed him to train Trunks, knowing it was the best outlet for his knowledge and healing of his broken spirit. He needed a purpose other than outpacing Son Goku, and investing that energy in Trunks was the best remedy.

With each passing year, Trunks grew into a mischievous and intelligent little boy. Even though he was spoiled in some ways, in others Bulma was glad most of it was due to Vegeta's continued involvement in the boy's life. Unfortunately, one side effect of his renewed interest in training the boy was rekindling his own interest in training himself. He spent longer periods in the gravity chamber, isolating himself only to spend what amounts of time he dared with his son or Bulma. Life became more compartmentalized where if he was not training trunks Vegeta was pushing himself to surpass the limits he'd reached during the Cell Games.

After seven years, Vegeta and she had finally achieved a good balance looking after the boy. Spoiled with attention in her mind was far better than being deprived of it. Trunks had plenty. Late nights in her laboratory were Bulma's escape from reality in to her own little world. Keeping up with an energetic seven year old was almost a full time job. Still her mind wandered to the occasional visits by their older son from an alternate timeline. Once a year he would stop by to check up on them, only to leave after his time machine was charged for another trip. During the next seven years, the trips grew less frequent until they abated altogether. During most of those rare visits, Future Trunks spent most of his time with Vegeta sparring in the gravity chamber or in space testing the new Capsule crafts. In orbit they could train to their heart's content without endangering anyone on Chikyuu.

Now on one such late night, she focused on her latest project; reorganizing her computer invention database. Vast blocks of memory were occupied with the calculations and programs used to run Capsule's inventions. She had one separate locked secure database just for her own proprietary inventions. As she swirled her coffee in its blue thermal Capsule mug she ran the mouse over an entry she had overlooked for quite a while.

Her eyes blearily read the text. “Temporal algorithm beta three.”

“I'd almost forgotten about this. The latest modification in case he visits,” Bulma wondered, sipping her coffee. How long had it been between visits this time? At least four years, she realized, checking the entry notes. Her fingers flew gracefully over the keys, allowing her to scroll down the pages of equations and recheck the figures. When realizing the energy demands her eyes widened in near horror. Would it take the output of a nuclear plant to charge a machine this time if he happened to return? According to the time span, such recharging would require almost two months, if not three to completely restock the temporal power core.

“It increases geometrically each time,” Bulma sighed, setting down her cup with a clink. “Sooner or later, the power core won't be able to hold the necessary energy.”

To her, the barrier to overcome time travel was like pushing a rock up a hill. For each trip, the slope became steeper, requiring more to push it up. Yet the return trip from the past was not as taxing. Power requirements increased proportional to the number of trips he'd taken. She would download the log from his time machine each time he arrived, and store it in the corner of the lab so it could recharge without anyone jeopardizing it.
Tiny ripples radiated outward from the center of her coffee mug. She heard a faint clinking, realizing the cup was rattling on the surface of the desk. Minute vibrations seemed to creep through the floor, and even in the air itself. Then she heard the whoosh of what sounded like rocket engines outside the complex, and felt the ground lurch like an earthquake.

“Speak of the devil,” she gasped, leaping out of her chair. The hallway to her private lab was long, but she crossed it in just a matter of seconds to enter the main living quarters. Her mother and father were sitting near the television where Trunks sat hunched over a video game console.

Dr. Briefs was pacing back and forth, his ear glued to the phone. Spotting Bulma he shouted, “I'm getting too old for this! You tell that husband of yours he'd better stop scaring the local people of West City by breaking the sound barrier! I could hear the windows rattling over the Video game!”

“Daddy I'm sorry. I'm going to see who it is. Tell the security guards that I'm handling it!” Bulma said.

“Oh my,” Mrs. Briefs commented, standing up rather calmly. “Do we have visitors? They should be landing at the company airport…”

The phone at Bulma's waist rang, and she grabbed it. Her father glared at her as he returned to speaking to whoever it was on the phone. “I'll take care of it! There's no need to worry!” she told her security chief.

“Mom, what's that?” Trunks asked, tossing his game down. “I feel someone's ki… it must be papa, back from his training in the desert!”

“Now Trunks don't get so excited! Let Mommy see who it is before you go rushing off!” Bulma cautioned, catching the back of her son's shirt seconds as he whizzed past her.

However, the forward motion pulled her along and Trunks grabbed her hand. “Mom, its Papa! It has to be!”

“He only just taught you to sense ki, you can't be sure,” Bulma protested weakly. She struggled to keep up with his stride, and then realized her mother and father were huffing behind them.

“Is it that nice young man from the future? I'd better put on another pot of tea!” Mrs. Briefs panted.

“Honestly dear, you KNOW it's that son in law of ours making a ruckus! You'd better go prepare a nice big meal for him instead,” Dr. Briefs gasped as he stopped and leaned against the wall panting.

Outside on Capsule's front lawn, the security guards had already assembled. At sign of Bulma, they were withdrawing, though keeping a watchful eye on the sky above. Trunks glanced up, feeling his mother's hand squeezing his. “Stop right there young man! I told you not to run off!”

“That's not Papa's ki!” Trunks complained, his brow wrinkling in frustration. “But it's not Gohan or Goten's ki either! Who the heck is it?”

“That's what I'm trying to find out, Trunks. Now stay put!” Bulma said firmly but kindly. Sulking, Trunks folded his arms much like his father, and turned his head to the side.

“Up there, Ms. Briefs,” pointed the security chief, holding his binoculars. “IT looks like a capsule craft… and it's hovering…”

“There's no need to worry,” Bulma said quietly, shading her eyes with her hand. She glanced down at her son blinking up at the gleaming shimmer in the sky.

“Mom, he's pretty powerful. Almost as much as Papa is! Who is it and why are you going all weird on me? Is it some lame adult thing I have to be old enough to understand! I'm not a little kid you know!” Trunks reminded her.

“Do you remember when you were younger,” Bulma turned to him, realizing it was futile to try to send him back into the house. He was seven, and it was impossible to quell the curiosity of the boy.

“Yeah, so what?”

“I'm getting to it. Do you remember someone else, with hair the same color as yours who would play with you when you were young?” asked Bulma, watching the gleaming shape of the spiderlike time machine descend. Trunks tensed, his eyes narrowing as it fired retrorockets and descended to a graceful landing only fifty yards away. Like a ripple in a pool, the guards backed away and waited for their President to indicate what their next action was.
“Wait a minute, do you mean the guy who had the same name as me?” Trunks asked quietly. “Hold on… that's nuts…”

“Welcome to the insanity,” Bulma sighed, watching the gleaming dome slowly swing open, to reveal the jacketed figure sitting in the circular console. He leapt over the side, long hair swirling around his shoulders. She moved over to him, temporarily blocking her son's view of the stranger though he darted around her legs to protect is mother from what seemed a potential threat.

“Whoa, who are you?” Trunks demanded, his blue eyes widening in shock as he raised one hand glowing with blue ki.
Equally blue eyes gleamed from behind pieces of lavender hair. A strong hand swept them behind his ear as he strode forwards into the light. The white upon black of the Capsule corps logo decorated the shoulder of a dark blue jacket, worn over a black muscle shirt tucked into a pair of baggy pants with multiple pockets.

Two pairs of blue eyes widened. “Mom,” Trunks whispered, his arm thrown back. “Who are you?”

Over one shoulder Trunks could see the hilt of an old-fashioned sword, strapped to the traveler's back with a belt slung diagonally across his shirt. What floored Trunks most was the appearance of the stranger's face standing out handsomely from the long hair gathered at the nape of his neck in a ponytail. He felt as if he were looking into a funhouse mirror seeing a huge tall reflection of him in weird clothes. Even the sneakers were futuristic and strange.

“Trust me kid,” answered the stranger, glancing down with a smile on his face, looking at his younger counterpart. “It'd freak you out. Let's just say you were about three the last time I saw you, and I can't blame you if you don't remember…”

“Trunks, you remember Trunks don't you…” Bulma couldn't' resist giggling. “You know, from the future?”

“No way… wait… you're him,” Trunks trailed off. “It's like having a brother!”

“You could say that,” Future Trunks grinned, dropping down on one knee to look his younger doppelganger in the eye. Still a bit surprised the younger Trunks blinked up at him and almost flinched when Future Trunks reached out a hand and ruffled the lavender hair, cut short and styled identically to Bulma's.

“It's been ages!” Bulma exclaimed, rushing over and leaning down to hug him. Still unsure, Trunks watched his mother and the older Trunks embrace, huddled over as they were.

“I thought you were Papa,” Trunks mumbled.

“Don't blame you for doubting, you're only protecting your mom, just like I would,” Future Trunks smiled fondly at his younger self. “You've really grown big in the last four years!”

“Dad's been training me to fight. You're powerful. I bet I could kick your butt,” Trunks bragged.
“That I'd like to see. Where's your Dad?” Trunks asked.

“He's on a training trip,” Trunks rolled his eyes slightly. “He said I was too young to come.”

“Why don't we all go inside and talk about this over some hot chocolate,” Bulma suggested, laying her hands on the shoulders of either son. “Trunks is pretty tired after his long trip. I'll have the security men take the time machine into the lab to recharge.”

“So what's this about being some bizarre-type double of me with my name, huh? Mom, is this me or something, or are you someone else that looks like me or who's all older?” Trunks asked Future Trunks.

“Let's go in and I'll try to explain, or your mom will,” Future Trunks chuckled, straightening up. Arm around his shoulder, and holding the hand of her young son, she led them both inside.

***
Breakfast at Capsule:

Waking up in a bedroom with familiar surroundings seemed routine enough, but Future Trunks still felt a bit out of place. His sword leaned against the wall of the guestroom he occupied, next to a chair where his clothes were neatly folded. A duffel bag with other personal items sat next to that, opposite the double bed he occupied.

Something else became apparent though as Trunks opened his eyes. Something tenting the blankets up a bit as a great deal of his blood flowed south erecting it. Thoughts of Gohan still swarmed in his brain, and Trunks slid his hand under the sheets to quickly take care of business. He hesitated though, realizing the shower would be a much nicer place, and easier to keep clean to 'take care of business'.

A few minutes later he watched the results of his ardor spin down the drain with soapsuds. While it was nice to prime himself for what was hopefully to become reality from his dreams, he needed to think of other matters. Namely, what sort of a life he would make for himself in this time.

With a towel hitched around his waist, Future Trunks almost bumped into the doorway rubbing his head dry with another flipped over his face. He stopped in front of the mirror, and then dropped the wet towel into the nearby clothes chute. Although he could rely on the bots, something about personal responsibility overruled convenience. Amidst the clothes, he rifled through his hand brushed past soft silk. Trunks reached in and lifted out the carefully preserved keepsake. Lifting it to his nose, he inhaled the essence of Gohan himself. Only a few more days, Trunks told himself, and they'd be reunited.

He dragged the comb through wet strands of lavender hair. Carefully he used the tip of the comb's handle to draw a part down the middle, and combed each slick half to either side. A strategically wrapped highbred later and he was ready to trot downstairs. Exiting the room, he easily made his way through the corridors to the first landing, remembering each step. Even though it had been years since he was last living at Capsule.

Much had changed, while much remained the same. Rounding the stairs on the way down he glanced up at the newly installed crystal chandeliers in the great staircase. Across it on the far wall, he saw what appeared to be new paintings, done by some modern artist. Other touches such as the sitting room furnishings were updated, while the sounds coming from the kitchen were quite familiar. He could hear his Grandmother singing along to the radio, joined by the sounds of laughter and two other people asking for their various orders.

Striding into the kitchen, he saw his mother with her back facing him, tossing fruit into what looked like a blender. Before the stove, Mrs. Briefs flipped pancakes into an old-fashioned skillet, before tipping them out onto the ever-increasing stacks to her left on the counter. Already seated in the breakfast nook, Dr. Briefs rustled his paper. To his immediate left Kid Trunks reached across to grab the box of sugar-laden cereal stacked near the all bran and frosted wheat twigs. Future Trunks strode in, wondering if he should pitch in and help.

"Good morning Trunks! You're just in time for coffee. I'm starting another pot," Bulma greeted him. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, and left him dumbfounded to see his mother wearing an apron with hair as short as his younger self does.

From the table Kid Trunks rushed, reaching up to grab his sleeve. Tugging on it he said, "Nii-san! You'd better hurry up before we eat it all. You can sit next to me!"

"Thanks, Chibi," Future Trunks chuckled, letting himself be dragged to the table by the enthusiastic seven-year-old. Soon he sat down next to the excited half Saiyan, and reached for his napkin. It was nicely rolled around the silverware, requiring him to undo it before putting it on his lap.

"Would you like banana or blueberry pancakes, boys?" Bulma asked.

"Um... yes Mama," Future Trunks said. "Blueberry?"

"Banana, Momma!" Kid Trunks raised his hand. He then grabbed the cereal box and dumped a heap into a large bowl in the plate before him.

"Coffee dear?" Mrs. Briefs asked, fluttering about the table like a hummingbird at a feeder. Expertly she tipped the coffeepot at such an angle that she managed to pour into each cup without spilling a drop. Odd, thought Trunks, how she never seemed to get older. Perhaps the miracles of modern plastic surgery, or something else he'd rather not worry too much about.

Kid Trunks plunked a half-empty box before him. "There, Nii-san I left you some if you want the rest... Mom's always telling me not to hog it..."

"You could have offered it to him before, sweetie," Bulma mildly scolded him. She pulled out her own chair and settled down in her place opposite her son.

Another chair sat empty, without a place setting before it, indicating where Vegeta would normally be. Mrs. Briefs didn't sit down in the chair at the foot of the table until she had piled heaping stacks of pancakes before both half Saiyans. Future Trunks navigated through the maze of bottles to grab the syrup and douse his half-eaten stack along with the butter sliding down it. He took small bites strategically cut with the silverware and just enjoyed the din of conversation going on around him.

"Do you see Gohan at all, Chibi?" Future Trunks happened to ask.

"Used to a lot more. But he's so busy studying nowadays that I mainly hang with Goten," Kid Trunk said through a mouthful of butter and syrup.

"The young man's so busy at high school he doesn't even date, poor thing," Mrs. Briefs commented. Suddenly Future Trunks wheezed and coughed on his own mouthful until Kid Trunks slammed him in the back to dislodge it.

"You okay?" asked Bulma concerned, leaning across the table.

"I'm f... fine," Future Trunks got out, his face beet red. He glanced gratefully at his younger self who was shaking his head incredulously.

"If that wasn't so scary I'd say it was cool how red your face looked there," Kid Trunks said. "But you'd better slow down or Mommy will be wearing it!"

"Young Gohan-san has quite an aptitude for Science. Always has," Dr. Briefs commented from behind his paper. The cat sitting on his shoulder yawned and stretched. Reaching down it dipped its paw daintily in the nearby glass of milk and licked it clean.

"Nose in the books huh? Has he been like that after I left last time?" Future Trunks asked. He swallowed a mouthful of bitter coffee, sweetened with half-and-half to wash down the mouthful that nearly choked him.

"That was a million years ago, are you kidding," Kid Trunks mumbled, rolling his eyes.

"I forgot anything about us adults makes us ancient," Bulma chuckled, smiling knowingly at Future Trunks. He hid his own smile behind his cup and then lowered it. Immediately Mrs. Briefs reached over to top it off from the nearby glass carafe.

"Well Gohan's been going to Orange Star High for the last few years now. He's a senior," Bulma announced.

"Yeah, busy hanging out with the other big kids instead of Goten and me. But he does sometimes come over to play video games. I still have to beat him in Vampire Hunter D part 3," Kid Trunks added. "He's asking to get his butt kicked."

"Are you kidding, Chibi? I used to play that game, but it was version 2," said Future Trunks with an amused smile.

"No way, you play video games, Nii-san? But Mom said your world was all busted up," Kid Trunks began.

"Well they've rebuilt it since then, kiddo," Bulma glared at her younger son. "I mean that's what you've told me, right Trunks?"

"This is going to take some getting used to!" Mrs. Briefs glanced back and forth in confusion. "Two handsome young men by the same name... we're going to have to chase the girls off with a stick!"

"Girls, give me a break," Kid Trunks made a face.

"Remember all seven year olds think girls have cooties," Bulma leaned over and whispered to her mother.

"Ohh my that's true," whispered Mrs. Briefs back.

"Well, what do you do with Gohan? I mean when you hang out, Chibi?" Future Trunks asked his younger self.

"He sometimes takes me and Goten to the amusement park. Dad's sometimes too busy to do that. Unless he's using it to bribe me to get in a good punch," Kid Trunks explained. "Gohan took Goten and me to the Satan City carnival a few months back and we all got to ride on the Gravinator. Never mind that it only goes to ten times and my dad's GR goes to a thousand."

"Gravinator?" Future Trunks hiked a brow. "The one that has the floor that drops out and it spins around and presses you to the walls?"

"That's it," Kid Trunks nodded. "All the other weaklings couldn't even stand up, but I did, and Goten did and Gohan nearly had a stroke. You should have seen his face! Hey, that reminds me Papa was gonna take me to see a movie this week, but you think Gohan could since Papa's not back from training yet?"

"I could take you, kiddo," Bulma said.

"Grandfather and I would be happy too…" started Mrs. Briefs.

"We would? But dear, you and I have that board of director's meeting!" Dr. Briefs reminded her.

"I could call Gohan's mother and ask. But I think he's starting the new semester a week from now. And if I know Chichi she's probably having him get in some last minute cramming before the semester break is over," Bulma tapped her chin.

"Oh man, Gohan-san does nothing but study. Man what a square," Kid Trunks grumbled.

"Maybe you could take him?" Bulma leaned over and looked at Future Trunks.

"Sure, why not," Future Trunks smiled. "I'd hate to have you miss Shark King in the Fourth Dimension."

"You will Nii-san, really? Sugoi! But maybe Goten-kun is gonna want to come too…"

"I think just the two of you would be a nice change of pace. Remember that Goten was visiting his grandpa Gyu Mao for a week," Bulma pointed out.

"Man I forgot. Jeez," mumbled Trunks. He brightened up though as Future Trunks nudged him.

"Maybe after that we can spar like you suggested. I remember you claiming you could 'kick my butt'. You should show me the moves your Papa taught you," Future Trunks laughed.

"And some more of my own," Kid Trunks laughed enthusiastically.

“Oh boy, here we go,” Dr. Briefs murmured, reaching for his coffee. “Just when you thought it was safe to retire…”

“Darling isn't this sweet?” Mrs. Briefs cooed. “Just like real brothers!”



“Not to change the subject, but I was wondering what your plans were for the moment Trunks?” asked Bulma. Now Future Trunks felt her expectant eyes resting on him, and he felt temporarily unable to answer. How could he admit in front of everyone else the true reason for his quest here? A reason that had burned brightly in his heart and soul like a beacon through the lonely yet productive years of reconstruction? Especially in front of his younger self who might get his heart broken from a possible attraction to the object of Future Trunk's affections? If some constants held true, Kid Trunks could give him some serious competition for Gohan's interest when he grew to be a teenager. Fortunately, his younger self gave him a welcomed breathing space that next moment.

“What kind of a question is that, Mom?” Kid Trunks asked, rolling his eyes. “Of course he's staying with us, right?”

“At least for a while, till I get settled in,” Future Trunks reassured him. “And decide where I'm going to get a job.”

“You're always welcome to join Capsule, young man,” Dr. Briefs lowered his paper and smiled fondly at his elder grandson. “Bulma will need a new President one of these days when she takes my place as CEO of the corporation.”

“Well I don't know about that,” Future Trunks blushed mildly, glancing around the table as all eyes fell on him. “I was thinking of working my way up from the bottom. I don't really want any special treatment right off the bat…”

“I understand,” Bulma said. “Well you can always get a job in R and D, or in the business department. I could speak to the manager…”

“Mamma, why does he have to worry?” Kid Trunks pulled a face at her. “We're so rich he doesn't need to work…”

“I'd much rather have a job though, Chibi. There's nothing as satisfying… almost nothing as satisfying as a good hard day's work followed by a good hard session of fun,” Future Trunks reached over and ruffled Kid Trunks hair.

“Says you. You're sounding like just another grown up,” the younger demi winced.

“Maybe so, but I need something to keep me busy since we can't fight all the time,” said Future Trunks. “But I would really prefer working outside Capsule, just to see what things are like on my own. I've spent all my life under the dome; I don't think it would hurt to see what this world's like…”

“Don't tell me you're going away just when you've got here, oh my!” Mrs. Briefs lamented. She grasped her napkin and began to dab at her mascara that started to run in black trails at the corners of her eyes.

“No, that's not what he means, Mother,” Bulma patted her mother's hand as the blonde-haired woman fanned herself and tears leaked down her cheeks. “He needs a bit of a break and I think I might have a possible idea… of why.”

“Actually, you said Gohan was studying a lot, didn't you, chibi?” asked Trunks.

“That's right Nii-san. Maybe you could drag him out and get him to play with us again?” Kid Trunks nudged his arm.

“Um well, actually I had always wondered what it was like to teach school. You mentioning studying gave me an idea. But the only problem is where,” Future Trunks tapped his lip.

Bulma's own mind began to spin with the possibilities. Indeed her own crystal blue eyes twinkled as brightly as her older future son's did. “Wait a minute; I might know some people who could get you a job teaching. The only problem is it will take some time to find a placement, and there's always making up background documents…”

“That's right. I only have a Capsule Corps ID card from last time. I don't exactly exist here… on paper,” Future Trunks mumbled from behind his coffee mug. After he set it down, Kid Trunks picked up the cup and took a sip. He promptly pulled a face and spat the beverage into his napkin.

“Ugh, how can you grownups DRINK this stuff? It's gross, Nii-san,” he complained.

“It's coffee. Another crazy thing grownups like. I only drink it to put them off guard,” Future Trunks whispered at his younger self.

“Oh yeah…” he whispered back, seeing the playful gleam in the older demi's eyes. It never hurt to play the game of young boys, helping feed the conspiracy theory that adults were crazy and kids were really the only ones who made sense. At least until Kid Trunks grew old enough to no longer care about clinging to his childhood in fear of growing up and `selling out'.

“That's child's play,” Bulma snapped her fingers.

“What, who?” Future Trunks and Kid Trunks asked together, their young and old voices blending into an odd harmony. Both aware of the synchronization they blinked at one another and started to chuckle.

“Isn't that too cute,” Mrs. Briefs whispered to her daughter.

Bulma ignored her and continued, “I'll get some of my people onto it. You'll probably want to get a driver's license once we get some papers drawn up… so you're officially in the company database… and nobody will ask any silly questions.”

“I'll handle that, Princess,” Dr. Briefs volunteered. “You research a job for the young man. Not to worry, sonny, you'll fit right in. But I do wish you'd reconsider working for the family business?”

“You want to teach? Are you nuts, Ni-san?” Kid Trunks blinked at him, horrified. “Why?”

“Not to worry, Chibi. I'm not going over to the side of the enemy. Just an experiment I've wanted to try,” said Future Trunks, his eyes taking on a mysterious gleam. “And it might just work to getting Gohan out of those books…”

“Oh yeah, a secret plan huh?” Kid trunks whispered excitedly. “Count me in.”

“Now don't get any silly ideas, kiddo. He's just trying to make a life for himself. It doesn't' mean he's going to ditch us,” Bulma cautioned her younger son.

“You're no fun, Mamma,” Kid Trunks glared at her sulkily. Again Future Trunks remembered how annoying adults could be, and felt jealous for how fortunate his younger self was. Kid Trunks would never be deprived of the magical journey from childhood to teen hood, free of the constant horror of androids and death lurking around the corner. Already it was apparent that he was a far different Trunks because of his surroundings. It reminded Future Trunks that Gohan was indeed a different creation, forged from the new changes in the current timeline. He had to be careful not to have any unrealistic expectations for a relationship with his long desired.

Yet could a version of him spoiled by attention and having all he could ever want be any sort of a warrior. Yes, Kid Trunks had many things he didn't, but he didn't have a mentor like Future Gohan. Nevertheless he had a relationship with his father from birth that Trunks himself never possessed. He couldn't afford to be jealous of the younger demi's life circumstances. They were both separate individuals, the products of their own times with different destinies. Unfortunately or fortunately so were both versions of Gohan. His Gohan had died a hero, in a tragic death, something that this Trunks would never have. That alone quelled any future notions of envy in Future Trunks heart.