Pan was sitting in her father’s chair downstairs hugging her knees when Bra pulled up to pick her up for their day of shopping.
Gohan sat next to her, rubbing her shoulders, telling her that it was ok, telling her that he understood, that it was alright. Videl hadn’t made breakfast, knowing that her daughter was nauseous, not about to feed her, nor make her smell food. ChiChi was elsewhere in the house, fretting nervously, angrily yelling at Bulma through the phone.
Bra stepped through the front door, knocking tentatively at the terrible stillness of the house. Usually the Son residence was warm and had a sense of love and ease about it, but it was silent this morning, silent and cold.
“I don’t care, Bulma! Do you have any idea of what he did to her last night? Do you?…DOES HE?!…” ChiChi’s angry voice sounded from the kitchen, echoing in a cracked manor in the stillness.
Bra looked to the living room, seeing Pan curled up in a chair, staring blankly at the wall, shuddering whenever someone touched her. Videl stood in the doorway, chewing a thumbnail as she watched her daughter fall apart. Gohan crouched before his little girl, both hands sitting on her feet, trying to tell her that he understood, and that whatever came of it would be accepted, for better, and never worse.
“Panny, I understand, please, just…Panny! Listen to me—look at me!” His voice wavered with emotion. “Panny, please…I know it hurts, it has too…but please, understand that I know what you’re going though, your mother does, your grandmother, we all do! Please…Panny…”
Bra was about to turn on her heel and leave, letting the distraught family to cope, but Videl had seen her and set a hand on her arm.
“Bra, don’t go.”
Bra looked up at her.
“I don’t belong here, Videl. I’m probably one of the last people that she—”
Videl shook her head. “Nonsense, you’re family. You always will be. By blood or not by blood, you’re family.”
Bra hesitated, but movement in the living room drew her attention.
Pan stood on tired and wobbly feet, and limped to Bra, grabbing an oversized Adidas jacket from the closet along with her purse. Her jeans looked too tight, especially for this particular morning. Her blouse was wrinkled, she looked thin beneath the white fabric.
“Pan, you didn’t have to—”
“I promised you no tomboy today,” she said weakly, her eyes looking inward on herself, as if she were trying to figure out what was wrong.
“Pan—”
“No, Bra…I owe you this…let’s just—”
Bra cut her off with a gentle gesture, setting a hand on her arm, steering her gently out the door. She nodded reassuringly to Videl and Gohan, letting them know that she’d take care of their little girl if it was the last thing she ever did.
As they started down the walk, Pan looked back to see her parents in the doorway, Gohan with a comforting arm around the waist of his wife. They watched her, worried, but she smiled back, and sank into the passenger seat of Bra’s car.