Time\'s Lessons Learned

Summary: Now that Future Trunks is staying at Capsule, he and Kid Trunks are settling into a routine. Yet can he keep his agenda a secret for very long, and should he?
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. This fan fiction means no harm to the anime or manga.
***
Fists flashed one against the other. Although his opponent was barely half his height, the lad compensated by his stance. Feet firmly planted and back arched, Kid Trunks fixed sapphire eyes on his longhaired opponent, and raised his hands. Standing with a minimal amount of target presented he twisted so his side faced Future Trunks, while his chest faced sidelong. Almost in the fashion of a fencer mingled with other techniques, Future Trunks nodded.
It mimicked Father's fighting stance. Wearing dark blue gi belted with a sash, his demi doppelganger then launched himself; forwards at the same time Future Trunks pressed his back leg down and lunged. Fists collided with sparks flying, and blue ki fields buzzing like bug zappers. As their auras brushed Trunks felt the resistance of almost identical frequency ki blocking his own. Defiantly, Kid Trunks dropped, and then swept his leg out to kick his opponent's baggy pant sheathed leg out. However, Future Trunks easily landed on his opposite leg to block the kick aimed at his midriff. Fists jabbed out in rapid succession, their lavender hair flying.
“You just getting warmed up, or is this all?” Future Trunks taunted.
“I was starting to get bored,” Kid Trunks laughed back, smirking devilishly. “Now, let's kick it up a notch!”
Flipping backwards, he landed, feet again spaced apart. Fists spread wide; he let out a low grunt. Hair flipped upwards, gleaming with gold energies in a mere fraction of a second. Future Trunks too mimicked the pose, and then it was the kid's turn to see the long ponytail bristle into armored spikes. For a second he flinched, realizing how disturbingly similar his doppelganger appeared to the Legendary. Lightening snaked over him, and his hair glowed pale gold.
“Super Saiyan 2, you're not holding back, are you? Well that's even better!” Kid Trunks exulted. A quick snap of power and his own form was wreathed in similar blue patterns of force. However as he again launched himself, something gleamed brightly out of the corner of his eye. For a moment, he caught his reflection in the shining blade that arched towards him.
Barely did he dodge out of the way, as the sword sizzled past his head. Ducking under, Kid Trunks then leapt up as Future Trunks slashed doubled handed with the blade sheathed on his back. “So that's it huh? Watch this!” Kid Trunks taunted. He leapt up, and to Future Trunks shock landed on the flat surface of the sword, standing on it with booted feet. Flipping forward he then pushed down with one flattened palm, and kicked sharply at Trunks jaw.
“Damn,” Future Trunks swore, feeling blood erupt into his mouth, as his teeth sunk into the side of his cheek. He hadn't seen that coming, but the little guy was good. Moreover, nasty.
“Nyah missed me slowpoke!” Kid Trunks grinned.
“Oh yeah?” Future Trunks asked. He grinned meaningfully back, and then tossed his sword up. It flipped repeatedly, and then stuck fast in a nearby tree, its pommel still vibrating with the force. Shortly Kid Trunks glanced to the side, and then leapt back in anticipation. His fists crackled at the level of his hips, gold energies charging.
“Double buster!” he shouted, directing twin beams towards Future Trunks. Arching his back and levitating, Future Trunks suddenly exploded a bubble of force from his skin that blocked the beam. Then he recovered, his arms flashing quickly back and forth before his face. Easily Kid Trunks figured he could block the ball of energy hurled at him.
“Burning attack!” Future Trunks shouted.
“As if!” Kid Trunks rolled his eyes.
However, instead of lifting his arms to block, Kid Trunks rocketed out of the way of the glowing sphere hurtling fast. It dissipated in a huge burst of ki inches from where he stood in the GR. An instant later, someone phased behind him, and he kicked sharply. Grabbing his ankle, Future Trunks barely stopped the collision, and then snapped the younger version of himself away from his body like cracking a whip. Kid Trunks shot backwards towards the far wall, only to twist in mid flight and hurl a blast forwards.
An identical ki sphere matched its intensity, creating another huge pyrotechnic show. As it cleared, both Super Saiyans panted, their hands held up and glowing with intense power. Voices blended high and low, both mouthing words that had to do with “Finish… Buster… cannon…”
The bleeping of the intercom startled their concentration. Both of them dampened their power fields, their enlarging spheres of energy flickering off into nothingness as they absorbed their energy back into themselves. Teal eyes met in silent understanding, knowing that their match would have to wait after lunch. First Kid Trunks hair flickered back to its lavender state and dropped, followed by the gold spikes of Future Trunks falling limp around his face. For a moment, they stood only ten paces separating them, strands of hair soaked purple and sticking to their cheeks and forehead.
“Not bad. Father's been teaching you well,” Future Trunks gasped, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“You're not too bad either, Nii-san,” panted Kid Trunks stumbling over and reaching out for a towel stacked neatly on the floor by the door. He tossed one to the elder, who hurled a water bottle at him. They both caught their respective items and started dabbling at the sheen of sweat their battle had produced.
Neither of the pair was too surprised to see Bulma's face framed in a large screen levitating in midair. “All right boys, time to call it quits and come eat! Even young warriors need to keep their strength up!”
“Coming mom!” both of them called, then blinked at one another strangely. As Future Trunks toweled himself off his younger Self glanced at him.
“Hey, Nii-san?” he asked, seeing the youth pull on a blue jacket that he swore he'd seen before.
“Yeah, Chibi?” he answered, pressing the button to open the Gravity Room. The door hissed, depressurizing into normal Earth G, before swinging into the hall.
“That jacket. It looks familiar. I could have sworn Gohan had one exactly like it in his room,” Kid Trunks noticed.
Hearing this, Future Trunks froze, and Kid Trunks was surprised to see a slight blush covering his `brother's cheeks. “Um… really?”
“Yeah. What's up with that?” asked Kid Trunks. “You give it to him or something?”
“Actually I did. He liked it so much that I gave it to him, and Mom had another one made when I got back to the Future,” Future Trunks hastily explained. Already he marched off down the hall, as if trying to walk quickly to avoid any more questions. Kid Trunks frowned, unsure of why his older brother… that's what he thought of his older self now as… was so shy?
“He's acting like Gohan does around girls. Weird,” Kid Trunks shrugged. Somehow, the thought didn't seem so weird to him. As far as he knew, guys liked guys like some guys liked girls. It wasn't so unheard of in West City for two men to date one another. Unfortunately, in Gohan's village, such behavior was considered odd, and almost indecent.
“Whatever,” Kid Trunks shrugged. Then his mind spun with a strange revelation. He trotted rapidly after his older brother to keep up with him before Future Trunks could elude his next question.
“Nii-san, hey wait up!” Kid Trunks shouted. Swiveling his head around, Future Trunks slowed his pace and waited for Kid Trunks to catch up with him.
“Yes, Chibi? Afraid I'll beat you to lunch?” he joked, all shyness now locked beneath a veil of self-assuredness.
“Yeah right. Why is it every time I talk about Gohan you get all weird on me, huh?”
Trunks froze again, cursing under his breath. He glanced down at the younger version of himself and realized how shrewd Kid Trunks was, and wondered how on earth he could explain himself. After all, Kid Trunks was no idiot, possessing his mother's intelligence and his Father's cunning. Anyone would be blind not to notice certain cues. Just how this would change things, he struggled to answer, blue eyes widening in shock.
“Um… it's nothing. I just haven't seen him for a while, and I'm not sure what to say to him. Considering he's not even expecting to see me, that's all,” Future Trunks smiled and said as brightly as he could.
“Uh huh, yeah. Whatever you say. But it sure is strange. I mean it reminds me of how Gohan gets whenever mom teases him about…”
“Aren't you a little young to be worrying about such things?” Future Trunks blinked at him.
“What things?” Kid Trunks blinked at him, playing innocent. Nevertheless, Future Trunks didn't buy it for a second.
“Watch it, your mother's… our mother's just in the next room,” Future Trunks hissed, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him to the side. “Look, we'll talk about this later. I'll explain after lunch okay. But no more questions about it… you didn't see anything.”
“See what? I don't' see why you're freaking out. It was only a question, sheesh. I mean what do I care if you don't know what to say to Gohan. You'd think that you guys were…” Kid Trunks almost got out, and then trailed off. A tense moment ticked by, and Future Trunks heard the pounding of his own heart, as he was almost afraid of being unmasked. Then Kid Trunks shook his head. “Nah, what am I thinking? I'm just a kid still. Why should I know what I'm talking about right?”
“Uh right,” Future Trunks nodded. He then stared to where his younger self was swiveling his eyes to see Bulma and his grandmother entering the common area where all the corridors and staircases to Capsule mingled in a vast vaulted indoor courtyard.
“You two had better wash up before lunch,” Bulma cautioned.
“Oh my you two look so cute in your workout clothes!” Mrs. Briefs tittered.
“Ugh, don't even start! I'm not cute, Grandma!” Kid Trunks pulled a face. She grabbed his cheek playfully, giving it a tug.
“That's my little angel! So angry and so proud just like his dreamboat of a father. You're going to be a heartbreaker with the ladies like your Nii-san here, right?” she gushed, embarrassing the poor kid by ruffling his hair and pinching his cheek even harder.
“Mom, stop torturing him, and let them go get a shower,” Bulma sighed.
“I can't help myself he's just so cuuute!” Bunny continued to fuss. Finally, she released her grandson who backed away with an embarrassed and annoyed look on his face. She turned to Future Trunks who blinked incredulously with an awkward smile.
“Um, I'm all hot and sweaty, Grandma. I don't' want to ruin your new dress!” he waved his hands frantically before his face as he dashed off after his younger self. Both demis made it to the safety of the built in locker rooms before Bunny could chase after them and tease them further.
“Mom, honestly, get a grip! You know Trunks hates getting his cheek pinched! He's not a baby,” Bulma glared at her mother.
“What, what did I do?” Bunny Briefs looked clueless at her daughter. Rolling her eyes, Bulma grabbed her mom's wrist and then leaned down to pick up the sweaty towels her two sons past and future had dropped.
“But they won't get this lovely fruit punch I made them!” Bunny lamented.
“Mother, make yourself useful and wash these towels, before they get any riper. I'll set the table for lunch,” Bulma groaned.
***
Crystal blue water lapped against sun-drenched sand. Murmuring Future Trunks turned over and could swear he was fast asleep, yet no blankets covered him. Again, he opened them to see the gentle movement of palm shaped objects blocking the brilliant beams overhead. Indeed, they cast larger version of themselves obscuring him in shadow. Inside its coolness he reveled, then sat bold upright when he heard the sound of someone's loud `kyai's.
“I can't be here,” Future Trunks whispered as he glanced down at his clothes, and realized they were those of a long ago outfit. Not much older than the object of his affections now yet he felt the relentless push of an age that this body no longer reflected. Over a smaller chest and shorter legs stretched a capsule T-shirt and grey sweatpants. Particles of sand dropped in long crusty ribbons as he leapt to his feat in a panic.
“What the hell?” future Trunks blinked, seeing the movement of blue and orange in an almost blur across the swirling foaming tide. As it swam into focus, he realized that the blurring was from the tears glistening in his eyes, the same shade as the sky itself free of clouds. At least that is how his mother and others he loved said they were to be described as.
Azure or crystalline blue were those hues associated with his irises, or even robin's egg. Even his fringe of long hair was gone, replaced with a fall of much shorter hair identical to the style of his `younger brother'. As he dashed out from the shade of the palm trees into the full glare of the overhead sun, he saw the shape that cast its shadow over him. Poppy red and mandarin orange cloth draped over the muscular figure he drew nightly in his dreams, identified by the circular `Han' sign on his back. Towering head and shoulders past him at least, the raven-haired fighter turned his countenance in Trunks, his scarred visage holding an unexpected and cheerful smile.
“You dozed off there. I didn't want to wake you up,” Future Gohan responded, his voice a deeper and sweeter version of the melodic high tones of Gohan.
“G… Gohan,” was all Future Trunks managed to stammer out before pouncing on his mentor. Strong legs pressed violently to launch him forwards into the taller demi's body, his arms wrapping tightly in Gohan's neck as their bodies collided. Such was the force that Future Trunks felt the stagger of his lover and mentor then a pair of strong arms folding around him in a tight grip.
“Whoa, hey, what's wrong? Not that I mind, but…”
“Gohan, just… just don't let go,” Future Trunks stammered, his body trembling. Years of pent up desire exploded in seconds, for it felt so real, and he was sure that this had to be reality, far more so then other dreams. Pulling back, he saw the surprise crossing Gohan's smiling face, and then angled his head to cut off any future questions. With slow and rehearsed ease, he slipped his tongue past slightly parted lips and threaded his hand in the hair at the base of Gohan's scalp.
Enthusiastically the kiss was returned, for Future Gohan's lips twisted and he slid his tongue past Trunks, tasting and probing thoroughly. Exhaling a hot pulse of breath that hid a groan, he shifted his weight so he held the youth just off his feet. All Future Trunks wanted was to kiss him, long, hard, and deep and never leave the safety and warmth of those steel hard biceps enfolding him. His unique scent covered Trunks nostrils and he parted with a soft sigh of relief.
Midnight black eyes gazing fondly back at him, half shuttered with desire. Echoing Trunks sigh, Future Gohan drew in a huge breath that pushed his chest further to that of his pupil and lover. He licked his lips and slid his hand under Trunks backside to hold him more securely and support his weight. No words were necessary between them. Future Trunks felt his chin quivering, unable to stop himself from crying because he knew instinctively it could dissolve at any minute from around him.
“Hey, what's gotten into you?” Gohan whispered into his ear as Trunks buried his face in Future Gohan's neck and sobbed.
“I'm not really here. It's another dream. Dammit it's not fair, Gohan,” he whispered.
“Shh, easy there,” Future Gohan reassured him, rubbing his back with strong fingers. “Tell me what's troubling you?”
“I… any minute now I'll wake up and be alone. It's so painful, and I ache for these times where I can see you again. But… but…” he stammered.
“Relax, just take your time,” Future Gohan soothed, setting Trunks down and binding him in a tight firm embrace. Pressing his cheek to the front of his orange vest, Future Trunks struggled to find the words.
“Would you… be angry if I said that I loved someone else… too?” whispered Future Trunks.
“You mean my other self?” Future Gohan asked, frowning slightly. To this, his lavender haired lover buried his face in the blue chainmail reinforced shirt, hiding his eyes from him.
“Yes,” he confessed. Soft warm lips deposited a kiss on his brow, and then moved to cover his mouth.
“I'm not angry, Trunks. Maybe jealous, but who wouldn't be? But you can't stop living because of me,” Future Gohan whispered, glancing fondly down at him. The frown in fact had been Gohan's serious and studious thinking glance that he'd misinterpreted. Relief filled Trunks and he slowly and shyly drew patterns on Future Gohan's shirt. Then oddly, he realized he stood now at eye level with his chin. He followed his line of site up the blue sleeves of his capsule jacket, then felt something strapped across his chest that shifted as he moved in Gohan's arms.
“You've grown up so much now. Who wouldn't want you? To see you so powerful now is amazing. It would be such a tragic waste not to want to share your life with someone else. I'm a memory. I can't compete with a living breathing person,” Future Gohan sadly laughed.
“You're always real to me. I love you Gohan. I won't stop loving you!” Future Trunks choked.
“And that's why you have the strength to love someone else. You deserve it. Don't let me stop you from sharing that love with him. Kami knows he needs you as much as you do him. He's lost his father, and so many depend upon him it wouldn't hurt for him to have someone at his side to love. I can't say I'm not jealous because I am. Yet… I know why,” Future Gohan breathed in his face.
“He's got his own life here. I can't ask him to come back with me. I haven't even seen him face to face yet. What if he's found someone else?” Future Trunks whispered, pressing his forehead to Future Gohan's, able to look him straight in the eye now just about. Now the outward appearance reflected his chronological age on the shores of their training island. At last, in his dreams he stood as Gohan's equal and more. Fingering long locks of lavender hair, Future Gohan covered his face in soft kisses.
“You'll just have to take that risk. Are you afraid that he'll only think you want him as a substitute for me? On the other hand, are you afraid that's what you're doing? Transferring what you feel for me still onto him because he happens to be me, in another time?” his mentor guessed.
Sadly Future Trunks nodded, touched that Future Gohan gently wiped away the tears with an index finger. Now only one arm remained as he stepped back, his gi tattered and torn, his face smudged with the dirt and blood of battle. Future Trunks felt the lump forming in his throat again, tears blurring his vision. Here now he would awaken, those same tears staining his pillow while his anatomy south of the boarder hardened with lust. Now teal eyes blinked at him, the upward spikes of his Super Saiyan form gleaming almost more brilliant then the sun that haloed them. Around them the ruins of the battered city raised, the stale and smoky air stinging Trunks nostrils.
Sheathed in Bulma's armor, Future Trunks stood opposite his mentor, long spikes of his own hair reaching like sea urchin spikes in many directions, including his hair in his ponytail. His gloved hands cupped Gohan's face and he leaned forwards for another hard kiss. Arms twined around one another, the two shared the warmth of their breath. Inhaling as much as he could of Gohan's taste, he then reluctantly felt something pulling him back.
Not even the strength of a Super Saiyan could fight fate's pull towards awareness.
Future Trunks opened tear filled eyes. Lying on his hip, he stared at the gleaming rude red letters of the clock. When his mind registered the actual time, he cursed under his breath. How had he slept so late, for those wretched numbers demarcated 2 PM?
“Ch'kusa,” he spat, thrusting down on the mattress with one flattened hand. While he was still in limbo between arrival and the news of a job, he had a whole list of things to accomplish today. Among them were buying new business suits in the city.
His sharp ears picked up distant conversation. A high light voice sounded like Chibi Trunks, running around and laughing amidst his grandmother's. If he pressed his ear to the bed as he did now he could hear the sounds transmitted through the floors and walls of Capsule Corp. Still cudgeling his sleep numb brain, he realized his limbs felt heavy as lead.
“I have to get up,” he mumbled, flinging the covers aside. As they did for a few days in a row, his feet touched the floor before he wandered over to grab a change of clothes to throw on. At the periphery of his ki sense a potential flared that astonished him. Achingly familiar in magnitude and `flavor' to someone he never though he would see but who he'd been avoiding all week.
Despite his better judgment, he stripped off his boxers and replaced them for sweat pants, and a capsule T-shirt given to him by Bulma. It was lime green in color, much like the one his younger self sometimes sported. Feet not touching the ground he levitated out of the room, then clamped down hard on his ki to dampen it to almost nothing. So familiar had he become with some kis that he could tell whom they belonged to. Including those of the fighters, he fought alongside of during Cell seven years ago.
A bright blue spot indicated chibi Trunks, downstairs on the first level near the front entrance. He glanced down the window and saw nothing or no one, but heard the whoosh of the front door. Stealthily he crept down the stairs, keeping to the wall closely as he stole towards the first floor. In sock covered feet, Future Trunks heard the source of laughing and joking growing louder once he reached the hallway leading to the huge common area.
“Finally you got out of the books, you big square!” said Trunks.
“Um, I'm sorry… Trunks. Mom had me cramming before school,” chuckled a voice that made Future Trunks heart stop. It was he, his numbed senses realized. No wonder he had been dreaming of his lover, for somehow in the depths of sleep he'd sensed the distant approach of Present Gohan.
“Where's Goten? I thought he dragged you h ere or something?”
“Nah, I just came by myself. I wanted to ask your mom something, but I guess it can wait. She's a busy woman.”
“Ch… yeah,” Future Trunks answered. “She's probably doing some boring meeting stuff. If you want to wait for her, we can play some video games. I can still beat your butt at Mazes and Monsters!”
“Well just as long as you don't tell my mom… it's probably good Goten isn't here because he'd let her know for sure. Who needs the news when little brothers are around, eh?” Gohan joked.
Peering around the corner, he saw a slender figure standing with a book bag slung across his body. A goofy smile covered the handsome face, not very different but trapped between the one he'd left behind seven years ago, and that he had just dreamt about. With his back facing Future Trunk's line of site, Kid Trunks rested is hands on his head and laughed along with whatever Gohan had said. A gold star gleamed on the badge pinned to the front of a rather poindexter type vest, and white shirt it covered. Khaki pants completed the ensemble that seemed quite consistent with how Chichi would dress her son for school.
“Damn, why's he here? I'm not ready,” Future Trunks thought, and felt his body starting to revolt. Just what was he going to do with those two running around the place, and him dressed like a slob? If Gohan saw him like this, he'd never live it down. Come to think of that, he didn't want Gohan to see him yet? Especially when he would have to compete for attention with his kid self running about. He watched enviously as Kid Trunks grabbed Gohan's sleeve and half dragged him over to the huge plasma TV.
“Actually I've played this game at the arcade with some of my school mates,” Gohan confessed. “I surprised the heck out of Sharpener.”
“Is that the blonde dude who always tried to hit on Videl?” asked Kid Trunks, letting go of Gohan's sleeve. Lifting the strap, he let the book bag drop to the floor, and then sat down on one of the hassocks near the entertainment center. Kid Trunks opened the twin glass doors below, revealing the Capsuletron 3000 video game system, with its handheld cordless consoles. He tossed one to Gohan, and then punched buttons on the remote to turn on the TV.
Both of them selected the start menu, and tentatively Gohan flickered his thumb over the select button. Similarly, Kid Trunks choose his own warrior with ease, until they had both picked characters for the long adventure style game. Future Trunks recalled playing it with his kid self only two days ago, spending at least four hours reaching level 14. “Wait,” Gohan protested, hitting pause.
Kid Trunks groaned, “What's wrong? C'mon you said you'd played this!”
“No it's not that,” said Gohan nervously. Future Trunks saw how cute he was temporarily flustered with that half-panicked look.
“What?” Kid Trunks glared at him impatiently.
“Whoever used the console last set it up wrong! None of the buttons are the way I like it,” Gohan explained hastily. “I need to reset it…”
“You're just making excuses to stop getting killed before me,” Kid Trunks teased him. “Now hurry up!”
“But we can play longer if I set it to custom. Someone overwrote my game file!” Gohan mumbled, flicking through the choices.
“No way, it's still there! Under D!” Kid Trunks interrupted, grabbing the control from him and pressing the button for the configuration of choice.
“Oh um, sorry. Must have missed it,” Gohan chuckled, a blush covering his face. “Say, you didn't play on this side did you? With Goten or someone just to set me up?”
“Um I was playing with…” Kid Trunks began. Suddenly Future Trunks bobbed his head into sight, waving his hands frantically no. Because the doorway arch was at a 45-degree angle to the TV, a nearby mirror reflected his image so his kid self could see it, but Gohan couldn't unless he turned his head.
“No, don't!” Future Trunks thought hard in his mind. While he knew telepathy was often used between Saiyans, he hoped the message would reach his younger self. Indeed, it did for his kid self suddenly flinched and yelped.
“With who?” Gohan asked. Trunks darted around and blocked the mirror as Gohan lifted his head from where the screen was.
“Um with myself!” Future Trunks babbled, seeing the panicked wide-eyed glare on his brother's face. “You know I do the two handed thing just to play both sides cause I get bored whooping the computer!”
Future Trunks ducked out of side, his heart pounding. Something wet dribbled down his cheek and he realized he was sweating. Pressing flat to the wall so he felt the coldness, Future Trunks squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the two gamers progress amidst chirps and trills of electronic music. Slowly he slid down the wall before hitting the floor with a thump.
“What was that?” Gohan asked, his ear twitching with the foreign sound.
Damn demi Saiyan senses, Future Trunks cursed, flinching. An instant later, he heard his doppelganger blurt out, “Nah that's just me stamping my foot cause it's awesome you're playing with me after so long with your nose stuck in those books!”
“Well you're good at math and science yourself, according to Bulma-san,” Gohan reminded him.
“Can't you stop talking about school? Ugh! We're trying to play. You want me to hurl on the console?” Kid Trunks scolded him.
Another tiny ki sparked Future Trunks senses, indicating that his mother was back at the front door. Heaving a sigh of relief, he leaned back against the wall, and tried to slow his racing heartbeats. Electronic music stopped abruptly, telling him that Gohan must have hit pause, which was further confirmed by Kid Trunks' grunt of “Aww c'mon!”
“Hello Bulma-san!” Gohan's voice said politely. Clothing rustled, as he must be rising to his feet.
In jus the next room, Trunks perceived her light footsteps vibrating the floor under his thighs. He pressed his ear to the wall and listened carefully. Bulma said, “Well hello Gohan! What brings you here… what a surprise…”
“Um yeah… I thought a bookworm ate him, seriously!” Kid Trunks chimed in.
“Can I talk to you alone, Bulma-san?”
“Hey, what about our game?” demanded the lavender haired demi.
“We'll finish it later. I promise Trunks!” Gohan quickly reassured him.
“Damn,” Kid Trunks swore.
“Trunks watch your language in front of your mom!” Gohan scolded him sharply before Bulma could even utter a word.
“He's right. Why don't you go find something else to do while I talk to Gohan, hmm?” asked Bulma.
“All right, whatever,” Kid Trunks said sulkily. He tromped out of the room, stamping all the way. However as he stomped past Future Trunks, his elder self grabbed his arm and tugged him with a finger held to his lips.
“What?” Kid Trunks began, before a hand clamped over his mouth.
“Shh,” Trunks hissed. Inside his mind, Kid Trunks heard the reverberation of that fleshless voice forming itself into words.
*Don't blow my cover please! I don't' want him to know I'm here!*
*Just let me go will ya? What's got you so freaked out, Nii-san?* Kid Trunks telepathed back. Blinking, his older version marveled at how skilled the response was. Vegeta had taught him the principles of such communication well. Like crystals precipitating from mother liquor, their respective words merged from a cacophony of thoughts into the link they'd forged.
Finger to his lips, Future Trunks aimed his thoughts, *It would spoil my secret plan. Please trust me, Chibi.*
In response, Kid Trunks wrinkled his nose. He psychically pathed, *But I don't get it… I mean don't you want him to know you're here, or are you doing some sort of fight training?*
*Gohan hasn't seen me for years. I don't know what to stay to him, or how he'll react. So I want to surprise him. Kind of like an ambush to see how he takes it. You get it don't you, since your dad does such exercises in showing Saiyan ability to react to any unknown.*
Perceiving this, Kid Trunks doubt melted into an ear-to-ear grin. Azure eyes the same shade as his twinkled equally bright with mischief. He nodded vigorously enough for his fall of lavender hair to bob up and down. *I get it. Gohan will have the crap scared out of him because he's slacked off. My dad's always getting on his case for that.*
*Right. We don't want Gohan-san to get soft, chibi. We're doing him a favor. So don't' tell Goten even that I'm here, okay?* giggled Future Trunks through their astral link. Two peals of psychic laughter bubbled across empty space, and kid Trunks hunkered down next to his new accomplice. Both of them intently listened to the conversation they had missed a great portion of.
“Well, I don't want them focusing on me at school, you see,” said Gohan, scratching his head.
From just inside the adjoining room, Future Trunks squeezed his young doppleganger's shoulder. *Tell me what you see, Chibi. Broadcast the thoughts to me,* Future Trunks requested. *Call it an exercise.*
*Okay. He's doing that lame thing where he's rubbing the back of his neck and looking all goofy like Goten does. Drives me up the wall. Mom's trying to keep him from doing it… and then…*
“Well I have the perfect plan to stop them from staring at you. I mean they do know you're the Great Saiyaman, so I have a perfect distraction!” Bulma announced cheerfully.
*Oh now she's jumping up and down like she does when she's gotten a new hairdo,* Kid Trunks described. Quite clearly the images of what he saw by peeking around the corner were broadcasted into his `brother's mind.
*Is she?* Future Trunks nodded slowly. It was comical to see his mother dancing around in excitement like a cheerleader. Considering she was middle aged she still retained a good deal of youth and exuberance.
“Leave it to me, Gohan. Nobody will even notice you once my secret plan goes into effect!”
“But Bulma-san, what is it?” Gohan managed to ask. Future Trunks could just see through Kid Trunks eyes how cute he looked, being so clueless. Blood crossed his palate and he realized that he was biting hard on the inner slick surface of his lip with clenched teeth.
*She must know you're hiding here, Nii-san because she's pushing him to the door,* Kid Trunks related. *Way to go Mom.*
Future Trunks swept his hand across his brow, and heaved a sigh of relief. *Good job. Guess that `women's intuition' is alive and well. You didn't think to her did you?*
*No way. Mom knows. Cause she's mom,* Kid Trunks confirmed.
The door clicked shut, and then they heard her footsteps vibrating the floor minutely. “Okay Boys the coast is clear. You can come out!” Bulma called. Meekly Future Trunks and Kid Trunks angled their heads around the wall to see Bulma standing there facing them. She suppressed the grin covering her attractive face, resting her hands on her hips.
“I know you were listening in. He's gone now. And it's time for you to get a new work wardrobe, Trunks,” she motioned to them.
“Him or me?” Future Trunks lamely joked.
“No way! She means you, Nii-san!” Kid Trunks glared up at him. “And you know what that means… shopping.”
“Shopping's not THAT bad,” Future Trunks shrugged.
“Oh no, you're not dragging ME along…” Kid Trunks blinked incredulously.
“Actually it wouldn't be a bad idea. You could show him around the mall, honey. I'll come too, just to give my own critical eye,” Bulma rubbed her hands together. Both demis exchanged glances. Future Trunks shrugged with a smug smile while Kid Trunks glared at him in frustration.
“But I was supposed to play with Goten,” Kid Trunks protested. “I mean someone has to keep him from finding out the big secret, right?”
“Very true, good thinking kiddo,” Bulma ruffled his hair.
“I think I can handle this mission on my own, Mom,” Future Trunks smiled. “I've got a pretty good idea what a professional wardrobe looks like…”
A gust of wind almost knocked Bulma over if her son didn't steady her when Future Trunks flew out of the room. Bulma had a fairly good idea of just why he was in such a hurry. Especially when she knew, that Gohan was still probably on the grounds. Upstairs behind a window, Future Trunks glanced down at the main complex of Capsule, where a lone figure was exiting the campus. He slipped through the window that was still open and silently hovered closer.
It was Gohan. Wandering around looking endearingly lost and confused. Future Trunks had to restrain his impulse to reveal himself immediately. Instead, he contented himself with ducking into the cover of a tree when Gohan spun around in confusion. He could swear he sensed a familiar ki for an instant before it vanished altogether. Reaching up he scratched his head and shrugged.
“Probably just Trunks playing a game on me. Sulking because I didn't finish the game,” Gohan smiled to himself. Content with his answer he strode towards the parking lot.
“Depends on what game you're playing, Gohan,” whispered Future Trunks from the shade of a large gnarled tree. His heart pounded ever faster in his breast from the elusive chase. Why was it so alluring to gaze at him from afar, watching the movement of his back muscles under those nerdy yet respectable clothes? His eyes widened to see Gohan reach into his bag and pull something out of it. Casually Gohan slung a blue jacket over his shoulders, stopping only for a moment to slide his arms into it.
“Kind of chilly,” Gohan shivered, tugging the halves of a blue Capsule corps jacket closed to button them.
“He kept it,” Future Trunks whispered to himself, a warm glow shimmering from deep inside. Darting to the next tree, he watched Gohan's graceful stride that pumped his pulse ever harder.
“Soon Gohan, you'll see me again,” Future Trunks vowed, keeping well out of sight. It took every ounce of self-control not to follow. There would be ample time in the days ahead. Now he felt free and clear to pursue a new future, safe in the knowledge that the one he once loved would not hold him back. In fact, Gohan's other self must be watching from afar and hoping that Trunks would find another deserving of that love.