(Chapter Two)
By: Kureeji
Trunks eyed the city warily. The people scurried about like ants, always cautious,
always afraid. He watched the bustle, the tiny shoeless children, the old, raggedy
clothed people, all scrambling to survive. He lay on the grass, and listened
to the familiar
sound.
He was 24 years old, counting the year in the Room Of Spirit and Time, and he had never gotten used to the fact that everything was safe. He sighed, thinking about Bulma, his mother. She was 48, but still as beautiful as ever. She wanted to see some grandkids soon. He laughed, thinking of the not so subtle hints she kept dropping at him.
To Saiyajin standards, he was late getting a mate. He had read through the
files of what info Bulma had squeezed out of his father, regarding his Saiyajin
heritage. They mated young, maybe 16 or 17, and stuck with that mate for life.
The Saiyajin philosophy, or
lack thereof, was kind of like, “Go get what you want now, before someone
kills you.” The Saiyajins had a long history of wars and life was mostly
centered around fighting, like a primal instinct never dropped.
To Trunks, that scared the heck out of him. He had dated an extreme little, his life had always been about defeating the androids. But now, they were gone, like a nightmare you never wake up from. Where did that leave him? He felt like he had no goals anymore…
He sighed, shifting his attention back to the streets. One voice, he heard
above the noise, “ Excuse
me! Excuse me! Does anybody know ho Son Gohan is?”
His lavender eyes popped open. Now, he had a goal…