Chapter 7 – Getting Dressed and Ready to Party
"Thank you."
Trunks got up but he couldn't stop staring.
"You know, that really wasn't necessary. I would've been fine."
18 dusted herself and winked at him.
"But thanks anyway."
Looking at Trunks for more than a second, she frowned, before the boy realized his mistake and calmed down. 18's eyes widened as the Ki signature disappeared, but shrugged it off.
'Odd.'
She thought, brushing a blonde lock behind her ear.
"It was my pleasure to help you… ma'am."
"I'm sure it was."
People now began asking 18 how she was, what they could do for her, etc. She ignored their sucking up.
"I never forget a face, but I don't even know your name. Who are you, kid?"
"Tru, Trunks Briefs ma'am."
She frowned again.
"Briefs? Bulma's son?"
"Yes ma'am."
She nodded.
"Well, I'll see you around… Trunks. Bye."
18 took off, letting the attention turn to Trunks.
"How did you do it?"
"You lucky guy!"
"Are you all right?"
But Trunks wordlessly made his way back home.
"So. Is it true?"
17 said as 18 came back to their suite, at the top of their administrative tower.
"What is?"
"That you got rescued."
She crossed her arms and half glared at him.
"I wasn't rescued. That car and driver were."
He was playing with his Hungarian cube again.
"Who was it?"
"The genius Bulma's son."
"Purple?"
"Indeed."
17's curiosity flared.
"Oh? Is he a traitor?"
"I think not."
18 answered thoughtfully.
"He seemed too polite and obedient."
He nodded.
"I see. Damn." (Not Darn!)
"What's wrong?"
"I'd have loved to see how he fights. If he's like his dad and all."
18 chuckled and shook her head.
"You want a pet, 17."
The dark skinned Android stared outside the window with a smirk.
"Yes."
Another school day. But it wasn't like any other day.
"Trunks!"
"Hey, Trunks!"
"Help, Trunks, a car! Save me!"
Trunks's reaction wasn't pure annoyance. But it wasn't happiness, either. Rather, puzzlement. How the news of his little run in with 18 spread like wild fire. He instantly became a celebrity. Still, Trunks didn't like it. All the boy wanted to do was find Marron. He hasn't spoken to her since the day before. But when he finally found the girl, the blonde wasn't as happy to see him.
"Why'd you do it?"
"Nice to see you too, Marron."
She crossed her arms.
"I mean it. Why? Why make a hero out of yourself?"
He shrugged.
"How was I supposed to know it was her? I saved something, then it turns out to be her."
"Riiiiiiight. Tired of hearing bad stuff about your dad, so you're making a good reputation for yourself?"
He harsh stare was met with a glare only Vegeta's blood line was able to create.
"Come on. We don't wanna be late."
Time passed relatively quickly, and soon, it was Gohan's lesson. (And like in real school, my fic is repetitive as well). The subject: The rebels' activities throughout the years. Strict theory and boredom.
It always ended in a conflict with the Androids, even though the reasons weren't evil. But Trunks seemed to be the only one who noticed; or was willing to notice.
Trying to offer shelter for people who lost their jobs due to a slip of the tongue against the Androids; trying to rebuild some of the buildings ruined in run ins between them and the Androids; they even went as far as trying to find a way off the planet to end the conflict. But everyone seemed to ignore it. All that mattered was that the Androids showed up, and everyone was instantly on their side.
Trunks shook his head. He was seeing things; there had to be an ulterior motive.
"Ok, that's it! Class dismissed!"
"Bye, Trunks."
Marron waved shyly, still sorry about yelling at Trunks earlier that day, before running off. Trunks walked up to Gohan once Marron was out of the classroom.
"We still have a lesson today?"
"Sure thing. But, I might be a bit late today."
"That's ok."
The boy began to walk off when Gohan spoke again.
"Nice job, last night."
"Thanks."
The teacher was rather happy to see Trunks wasn't all that happy about it.
"You're a hero. Cheer up."
"All I did was the right thing."
'I hope.'
Gohan smiled.
"Right answer."
Trunks went and Gohan took a deep breath. Looking at his bag, he felt excitement rising. He was about to add another item to the list he just taught.
"What took you so long?"
Krillin asked worriedly as Gohan arrived, wearing his orange, traditional Gi. Piccolo was there, too, arms crossed and frowning as usual.
"Sorry, a lesson of mine got a bit delayed."
"Ah, that's ok."
"Cut the chit chat, we have to hurry."
Piccolo reminded them of their mission.
They were to meet with a convoy of trucks and gain some valuable supplies. After all, men cannot live on pride alone, otherwise Vegeta'd never have to eat again.
"They're coming."
The plan seemed simple enough. Three warriors out in the open, to meet the transportations. All's clear, several rebels hidden nearby take possession of the trucks. Then drive off happily.
But they never were that lucky.
"Here."
Piccolo handed Gohan a bandana and a pair of sunglasses.
"We can't risk you being recognized."
Gohan took it, but seemed rather skeptical. Krillin chuckled.
"Well, excuse me for not getting you a flashy outfit with a fancy helmet, Gohan. Heh, I can see it now. The Great Saiyaman!"
Both Saiyan and Namek looked at the human, mildly afraid.
"Get real."
Gohan wore the items as the convoy came to a stop. The driver came to them.
"Be on your guard."
"A nice day today, wouldn't you say?"
Krillin began what appeared to be idle chat, but was in fact the beginning of a code. Not that they were trying to be too secretive, having Piccolo around, but they needed to know whether to blast the driver on sight or not.
"Sure is…"
Wrong answer.
"…the day you three are going to die!"
17 threw his hat away and sent an energy beam at the trio. They scattered.
"So, they guy proved to be a scumbag, just as I thought."
Piccolo said.
"You're the scumbags!"
18 came towards him from behind, sending Piccolo to the ground where 17 was waiting. But Krillin caught him as Gohan hit 17. hard."
"Hey, big G! Think you could go super?!"
"Sure thing!"
The bandana was discarded to reveal spiky blond hair. 17 snickered.
"18, look! Another blond!"
His sister kicked Krillin to the ground, then sent an energy beam at Piccolo. It missed by half an inch.
"Well, every one wants to imitate me."
She said, throwing her hair behind her shoulder.
"Well, let's just see how strong blondie is."
And see they did. 17 underestimated Gohan, allowing the now Super Saiyan to blast him temporarily out of the sky. Then the teacher went to help his master deal with 18. Then the three rebels flew off as quickly as possible; the other rebels took off the minute 17 showed his face.
"I hate running away from them like that!"
Gohan said angrily.
"We must. We didn't come here to fight them. And we're not ready."
"I know."
Krillin chose that moment to speak.
"Speaking of getting ready, how's it going with Trunks?"
The three soon landed and hid their Kis. They were walking the rest of the way.
"Well, he's confused. He's angry at the way society sees his dad, but he's pretty mad at him himself."
"Hard not to be pissed of at Vegeta."
The short man said with a chuckle, but amusement was soon replaced with worry.
"Gohan, you're bleeding!"
Gohan looked at his left arm. It was bleeding pretty badly.
"Fancy that, haven't noticed."
"Let's get you wrapped up. Can't send you to see Trunks like that."
When the door opened, Bulma grabbed Gohan's good arm and pulled him inside the house.
"Nice to see you too, Bulma…"
"What were you thinking?!"
She said in a harsh whisper.
"what?"
"You know what! It was all over the news!"
Panic crept to his heart.
"They know?"
Bulma shook her head.
"No. Piccolo, Krillin, and a mysterious rebel. Blond rebel."
Gohan sighed in relief.
"Thank Kami."
"Well, go on, Trunks is waiting."
She returned to whatever job she had, and Gohan went to Trunks's room. He stopped before entering, sensing the boy's Ki. Good, he thought. Trunks was keeping it suppressed.
"Heya, Trunks!"
Gohan said in his usual, Son-cheerful self. Trunks laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling.
"Trunks?"
"I know."
"Know what?"
The boy looked at Gohan, and noticed the lump of bandages under the man's sleeve.
"What happened to your arm, Gohan?"
There was no real surprise or curiosity in his voice.
"Oh, this? Just a scratch."
"Come on, Gohan, I'm not an idiot, you know. I know about you."
"Know what, Trunks?"
Gohan demanded calmly, even though he was stressed a bit. And for a good reason.
"I know you were that mysterious rebel today."
A very good reason.