By Panabelle
By Panabelle
Yesterday,
all my troubles seemed so far away,
now it looks as though they're here to stay,
oh I believe, in yesterday.
"Trunks?"
The little voice startled him, and he looked down, peering straight down into the deepest blue eyes he had ever heard of. From somewhere within him a need arose, and he dropped his hand palm down onto the top of her head, playfully running it through her hair as he would across a puppy's fur.
"Trunks," she started again, wrapping herself around his leg.
He groaned as her intent became clear to him.
"No," he grumbled. "I will not read that vile thing again. It's bedtime. Gohan will kill me if I let you stay up again."
Her little lip jutted forth and began to quiver, but lost the effect as her puppy-eyes started to laugh when he started towards her room. Pivoting on one hip, swinging his leg out to the side because her grip made bending it impossible, he slowly made his way down the hall. She began to laugh and giggle, burying her face into his jeans, looking shyly up at him.
As he reached her room, he pretended to stumble forward, startling her and taking the opportunity to swing her up into his arms and flop backwards onto her bed, holding her above him as if they were playing airplane.
But if they were playing airplane, they wouldn't be in the house.
And his back wouldn't be on the ground.
She giggled down at him, her blue eyes bright with a wisdom and a spirit that was far older than her four years of life. Her arms and legs dangled, she knew this wasn't the airplane game, he'd have opened the window if that's what they were playing.
"Read me a story!" she giggled; his own joyful smile turned to a vindictive smirk. Locking his elbows, he held her above him still, and tickled her sides.
"Escape and we'll talk!" he cried, vengeance fading into laughter as she squirmed, not in the least afraid of him hurting or dropping her.
She freed herself with a squeal and flopped onto his front, knocking the wind out of him; she sat down his chest, leaning forward and wrapping little arms around his neck. She pressed her face into his cheek and smiled into his warmth.
With a laugh, he sat up then stood, cradling her against him and pulling back the bedsheets, gently placing her beneath the quilt and tucking it around her chin.
Suddenly,
I'm not half the man I used to be,
there's a shadow hanging over me,
oh yesterday, came suddenly-
He lagged behind the others as she joined them. Black hair that was silken night gleamed in the sunlight. Even from the distance he'd kept between them, he could see her blue eyes sparkling.
Quickly, he shook his head and started after the others, keeping his distance, watching her, watching her interact with the others.
"Marron!" she laughed as she was bowled over, her voice bringing a sense of reality back to him, the familiar laughter in it making her new appearance less like her. "When did you learn how to fly?"
"When Trunks dropped me two months ago," his fiancé laughed, enveloping the younger girl, flinging her back and forth in the air as if she were a doll.
Trunks smiled, relief settling as he watched the two girls get along, but he stiffened as Pan pushed away and stared at the engagement ring on Marron's left hand.
"I could see this thing from the plane..."
The others laughed, all of them simply rejoicing in the fact that Pan was home after four long years, just glad to have her back with them, to rescue them from all figures of authority that dared to stand in their ways, and to rescue them from themselves.
Her words lingered in his head, and he winced, suddenly wishing for yesteryear, when he'd baby-sat her every Saturday, playing airplane when he should have been making sure she'd cleaned her room, or running through the house using Goten's old celphones as walkie-talkies while they waited for the pizza delivery guy to show up.
He'd never cared then that he was a senior in high school, sacrificing the most social day of the week; he'd had fun back then, and he'd kill to be back there, at 18, with a 4 year old Pan braiding grass into his hair or refusing to go to bed.
Even if it meant he'd have to read that damned book again, he'd do it.
Pan glanced back at him as she moved to land, her eyes sparking with mischief directed only at him. He smiled, acutely aware of how empty the last four years had been without her, of how miserable he really had been.
Why she had to go,
I don't know,
she wouldn't say,
I said, something wrong,
now I long,
for yesterday.
"Trunks?"
He paused in the doorway and looked back, fingers still on the lightswitch. She had rolled over onto her side, both of her small hands tucked under her cheek as she curled up against her pillow. She didn't appear to be more than a child's doll, her bed being insanely large for a child of four.
"What is it Panny-girl?"
"Aren't you gonna read to me tonight?" she murmured innocently, eyes wide and alive, though her voice was slow and sleepy.
"No," he replied, and quickly flicked the light off, then flicked it on just as quickly as she cried out. Turning back to the bed, he found her huddled in a ball, hugging the quilt to her chest, hiding her face in the soft fabric. She whimpered quietly, shivering with childhood fear.
Laughing, he got down on her level and pried the blanket away, sticking his face in hers and laughing as she went cross-eyed trying to meet his gaze.
"You know, putting your face in the dark doesn't make any sense if you're afraid of the dark, Panny," he growled playfully. He sat up and readjusted the covers around her.
"I'm not afraid of the dark, Trunks," she snapped. A moment later she realized she'd actually said that aloud, and clapped both hands over her mouth, glancing up at him, horrified.
He played cool.
"You're not?" Sheepishly, she shook her head, still wide-eyed, hands over her mouth. "Then what are you afraid of, Panny-girl?"
Her eyes flickered to the far wall, but to her closet or her toy chest he couldn't tell. He'd place money on the toy chest though, knowing Pan, she'd be locking his little sister in there soon.
Maybe even Goten.
She hid her face back in the quilt, murmuring something that sounded like "deposit monkey."
"What?" he asked, almost afraid he'd heard her correctly, pulling the blanket down. "'Deposit monkey'? What's that?"
Angrily, she sat up and spat out, "Closet Monster, dummy!"
Unconsciously, she drew closer to his side, peering around him at the door. "Uncle told me that when he was little a monster came flying out of his closet and attackled him until he agreed to feed it."
She was so serious that Trunks had to turn his head and pretend to cough into his shoulder to keep from laughing at the memory. He had completely forgotten about the time he'd stayed the night over at the Sons, only to wake up in the middle of the night-starving, and not about to brave ChiChi at midnight.
"Well," Trunks covered a moment later, after several moments of "deep thought". "If a monster should come out of your closet, feed it. You know how to get to the kitchen."
Pan looked at him with a blasé face that said she knew that.
"Uncle told me I would have to cook for it because its really hungry and won't just settle with a box of cookies," she informed him.
Trunks coughed again, no laughter in his chest this time.
Now he remembered why he'd forgotten the incident...
He still didn't trust anything made by a Son unless those Sons were Videl or ChiChi.
He looked down at her, then laughed, rubbing her head.
"Get Goten to cook for it. I can guarantee that monster won't ever come back...worked miracles for him." I still turn green at the sight of cookie dough.
Pan laughed, but then froze.
"What if Uncle isn't here? He can't cook for the monster if he isn't here!"
Damn.
"Good point, kiddo. Alright..." he trailed off, staring at the closet. Knowing Goten, he'd use the 'hungry monster in the closet' act on his niece. Trunks sighed, scratching his head through purple hair. "Do you want me to check the closet and make sure there's no monsters in there?"
Pan's face lit up and she nodded, tugging on his shirtsleeve. "Wouldja? I asked Momma last night, but she told me that any monster in my closet wasn't nothing compared to real monsters. Daddy just said that he'd take care of any monsters that came after me, and then he went out and talk to Uncle about standing guard."
Trunks coughed again, covering up his laughter this time. Gohan had been the one who had discovered them in the kitchen; Trunks owed him his eyebrows for taking away the cookie dough instants before it burst into flame.
"Yeah, I'll exorcise your closet."
Her face brightened, but then fell into confusion at the big word she didn't understand.
"Exercise?"
He grinned and rubbed her head again, suddenly getting into the idea. "Be right back!"
In an instant he was gone, down in the kitchen grabbing pans, lids, ovenmitts, and an old towel from the laundry basket Videl had asked him to take care of.
The little girl fell over when he jumped into the room and struck one of her father's old Saiyaman poses.
Apparently Pan didn't know about his "super hero" days.
"Trunks? What...are...you...wearing?" she asked.
He looked down at himself. He had a saucepot on his head, the handle sticking off at an angle from behind his right ear; a large lid was tied to another, both serving as armor for his chest and back. The towel was knotted around his neck and was serving as a nice cape, considering he'd dashed in to open her window right before jumping in "in character". As far as the ovenmitts were concerned, they were gloves. A ladle and a potato masher were both shoved into his belt.
"What?"
She shook her head.
"It's precautionary! I'm not nearly as strong as Gohan, if there's anything in there, in might kill me!" he "reasoned".
Suddenly unsure, she laughed, and ran around behind him, ducking under his cape and clinging to his leg. He dropped his "helmet" onto her head and handed her the ladle.
"Stay here, little one!" he instructed, ripping off Gohan's old Saiyaman voice. "I shall check the closet." He started forward and then leaned back and whispered, "Cover me, anything gets past me, smack it with the Spoon of Judgment."
She raised an eyebrow.
"'Spoon of Judgment'?"
His face fell into exasperation. "The ladle."
"Oh!" She looked down at the "weapon" in her hands. "I can do that!"
He jumped forward and flung open the closet door, standing in front, ovenmitted fists on hips.
"Hear me, all closet monsters of Pan's closet! I shall not have you attackling this young-" Deciding to spice it up, he threw himself into the closet, slamming the door behind him, bouncing off the walls and making "oof!" and "eep!" noises.
"Trunks? Trunks, are you alright?!" he heard her call through the door. Suddenly afraid he might be carrying it out too far, he grabbed for the handle and started to exit the closet, only to feel something very cold come down on his head.
Very hard.
Blinking, he looked up from where he lay on his back at the little girl who was staring cross-eyed at the now Trunks's-head-shaped-ladle.
"Remind me to never give you anything that could constitute as a weapon," he groaned, getting up. Quickly, she stuck the ladle behind her back.
"Did you get it?" she asked eagerly, peering into the closet with believing eyes. She looked back at him.
Quickly, he jumped to his feet and struck another old pose of Gohan's and dredged up the voice. "Yes! I had him exactly where I wanted him, but as I came into the light, he blinded me with his laser eyes and dashed under the bed."
She took a step away from her bed and stared at it with overly large eyes.
Oops.
"Er...but don't worry about him now, Panny-girl," he laughed, dropping the lids and the potato masher to the ground with the dented ladle. "He's a closet monster, he can't do anything to you if he's under the bed." Her terrified gaze turned skeptical, and he decided he had better shut up and get her in bed before he got her started on the closet monster and Videl threatened not to feed him in payment for the night's work. Jumping forward, he scooped her into his arms and threw them both onto the bed, trapping her beneath him and tickling her sides until her laughter was short and choppy from lack of breath.
He backed a few inches off of her and laid his arms across her little legs, looking up at her.
"Better now?"
She nodded happily. "Trunks?"
Hearing the eternal "read me a bedtime story" question coming, he dropped his cheek onto his hands and closed his eyes.
"Bed time."
"No! Trunks!"
He smiled inwardly and tried not to laugh. He felt her tug at his arm insistently. Cautiously, he opened one eye.
"What?"
She blushed and quickly covered up, mimicking him. "Nothing, goodnight."
He ripped the blankets back and loomed over her.
"You're not asking for that vile story. What's up short stuff," he demanded.
She blushed and averted her eyes, watching as she repeatedly pressed her index fingers together. "Um...nothing." He didn't let up.
"Um...Tru-Trunks?"
"Ye-es," he replied, curious to her actions now.
"Do...do you think that maybe...when I'm older...um...that you would want to-to marry me?"
Suddenly, he realized he had acted out a scene from her story where the hero protects the princess from the dragon.
"Pan..."
"No! I...I know I'm just a little kid and all...but...maybe?"
His reluctance to answer the question played across his features. Hesitating, he messed up her hair. "Panny-girl..." He paused, then smiled. "Maybe. Never change and grow up and become beautiful, and I'd want to, yeah. But if you stay this little ugly duckling that you are now..."
She smacked his arm. "I'm serious, Trunks. Would you?"
His smile softened and he sat up, kissing her forehead good-night. "I probably will, Panny."
"Trunks? Promise to marry me if I grow up and become beautiful?"
He coughed into his sleeve. He couldn't promise her that. She was already destined to grow up and become beautiful; he'd been enraptured with her mother, same as Goten and Gohan, until...well, there was no until, he still was. "Panny..." He sighed and smiled. "Alright. But I promised Marron the same thing when she and I were little, so if she beats you, I can't keep my promise to you."
Pan pouted. "But she's got a...a 10 year head start!"
His smile grew sad. "I guess that means that unless you start catching up, I can't promise you."
Yesterday,
love was such an easy game to play,
now I need a place to hide away,
oh I believe, in yesterday-
Trunks ground his teeth and looked at the girl who had done more than grow up and become beautiful. She'd cut her hair short like it'd been when she was four, and it danced playfully above her head as she stretched her toes to the ground.
Suddenly, he didn't care. Grinning, he rocketed towards her, engulfing her in his arms as she touched the ground, swinging her around and then ducking his face into her shoulder-she was the same height and build as Marron, it shouldn't have felt so right holding her in his arms.
He glanced to Marron, and she gazed back at him. It was almost as if she could read his heartbroken torment in his eyes. Tears flickered in her powder blue eyes for a moment, but then she smiled and moved around; out of the corner of his eye, he saw her wink at Pan and drag the others off. Thank Dende for Marron, no one else would ever have understood.
"I missed you, Panny-girl," he mumbled, burrowing his face into her skin, smiling as she laughed quietly.
"I missed you too, Trunks," she replied, squeezing him back, just as content not to pull away as he was. But eventually, he did, stepping back and setting his hands on her shoulders, his eyes trapped by the ocean deep windows of her soul.
He searched for any memory she might have had of that promise-that damned promise he wished he hadn't made to either her or Marron. But he couldn't find it, all he found was slight confusion and worry directed towards him.
"Trunks?"
He didn't know if he had been hoping to find the memory there. He didn't know if he wanted her to remember or not.
"Do we bother you, Pan?" he whispered, never breaking their gaze.
She blinked, then smiled awkwardly. "Who? You and Marron?" At his solemn nod, she gave a half laugh, then shrugged. "Yes and no. No, because you two are cute together, and deserve each other and all of that bull I actually mean for once." He started to smile, but her face fell and she looked off towards the ground wistfully. "And yes, because it only reinforces the fact that I've been gone too long."
She remembers…
It was there, clear as day. He laughed though, draping an arm over her shoulder and leading her away, playing with her like he always had. But it was harder now, for him. He loved Marron, and had even gone through physical pains and splinters to make sure they had a house to live in once they'd finally tied the knot. But he'd been wondering for the last few months if Marron really was the one he wanted. Which was why he'd hacked into the airline passenger listings, searching for Pan's return date.
She'd always been his favorite person. Pan had always been there for him, whether or not he needed her, and he had always been able to confide in her. It'd been over 25 years since he'd "broken" Piccolo, and she was the only soul he'd ever told; he'd never said more than "let's not talk about this" to Goten, but Pan knew the whole story, inside and out. She knew a lot of stories inside and out that nobody else knew.
"Do...do you think that maybe...when I'm older...um...that you would want to-to marry me?"
"Trunks?"
She stopped and dragged him back to face her, crossing not-so-little arms across her chest.
"Trunks, you're not being very reassuring to my self-esteem right now, ya know that?"
He blinked, his body freezing solid. For once, he had no idea what she was talking about. His mind was still lost in once upon a time, and something told him she was referring to a more recent event.
"Huh?"
She squared her shoulders and took a step back, holding her arms out to her sides so that he could see all of her. "Well, you made me promise to come home beautiful. So I left home the ugly ducking and have returned anew. Tell me, am I a swan, or a goose?"
"Maybe. Never change and grow up and become beautiful, and I'd want to, yeah. But if you stay this little ugly duckling that you are now..."
He smiled down at her, stepping closer and tilting up her chin, looking down into her eyes. She grew nervous under his gaze and he tickled her throat like he used to when she was little. "You kept that promise Panny, and then you surpassed it…you always try to out do what I ask you to." She blushed and tried to look away, but he steered her face back towards him. Looking down at her, he finally knew. This was his little Panny-girl, his best friend who had left him for no reason that he had yet to figure out, but who had still come back.
"You're gorgeous."
Why'd she have to go,
I don't know,
she wouldn't say,
I said, something wrong,
now I long,
for yesterday.
"Pan!"
She froze, then slowly lowered her face to look down at the things that had latched themselves to her legs. Two sets of blue eyes looked up at her, one from beneath a mop of blond, the other from beneath a top of purple. Both smiled up at her.
"Your father's going to have my hide, you two do know that, don't you," she asked them.
The one on the right, the blond one, smiled. The one on the left, the purple one, ducked his face into her leg and nuzzled.
"Of course you know," she grumbled playfully. Leaning down, she grabbed both by the back of the nightshirt and detached them, turning and leading them down the hallway to their bedroom.
Depositing them both in their bed, she tucked them in and turned to leave.
"Pan?"
She turned, looking back at the two little boys, two little boys with Marron's face and Marron's timidness, but that said Trunks Briefs all over them.
"What is it, kiddo?"
The two looked at each other sheepishly, before the older of the twins spoke.
"Could you read us a bedtime story?"
Pan smiled and moved back into the room.
Down the hall, Trunks came out of his office and smiled, walking towards the room of his sons and leaning against the jamb. Pan had stretched her 24 year old frame out between his four year old boys, the damned book in her lap as both boys snuggled up against her and propped theirs cheek on her arms to see the pictures.
He had to admit, that damned book wasn't so damnable when he wasn't the one reading it. Listening to Pan's voice, and watching his sons, he closed his eyes and let himself get carried away into yesterday, a time when he'd had read the exact same words to a little girl who had loved him dearly, and who probably still did.
He opened his eyes and watched the boys nod off.
Marron had wanted a little girl so badly, but he had prayed against it. He wouldn't have been able to take raising a little girl, not after having spent so many of the past 24 years around Pan. But that was the glory of it.
He had Marron and the boys now. He'd never ask for anything more from them; he had a loving wife and twin boys to make him suffer for the pranks he and Goten had pulled as children. This was today, this was tomorrow; this was every day of the rest of his life.
But yesterday, he had had Pan; a little girl who wanted nothing more than to play with him. She was still a little girl compared to him, especially now as his temples were greying from "playtime" with the boys, but yesterday, she had been a child, and she might as well have been his child.
He didn't want another little girl.
He still had Panny for that.
Yesterday,
love was such an easy game to play,
now I need a place to hide away,
oh I believe, in yesterday.