Welcome to DBZ Love Garden

The underbelly of the car stared at him. He’d been under it for a good hour, but he always seemed to lose time when he was working. For some reason, the grueling work, work that he had to do with his hands, relaxed him. It relaxed him so much that he opened the garage years ago. It gave him time to relax his mind and it was the perfect solution to a problem that had longed plagued him.

Anonymity.

Well, and cash too.

Some oil leaked onto his shirt and he wiped at it absently. Later, when he had an itch on his cheek, he scratched, not realizing that he was getting some of the grease, already caked under his fingernails, onto his face.

Ring…

Trunks got out from under the car to answer the ringing bell. It was early in the morning and his employees were not due for another hour.

When he got up from under the car and finally stood, he saw the same look he always saw on the women that would take their cars to him. Surprise, followed by greedy interest.

When they first walked in, they could see powerful legs clad in black baggy pants sticking out from under a car. And if they thought they were nice, nothing compared to the sight of the entire man as he emerged.

The shock of it — a pair of grey eyes, dark and smoky, set off by tanned skin, chiseled features and long, lavendar hair. The body, quite visible and enhanced by the black tank top, was muscular and cut. It usually was covered in a mist of golden sweat and a few oil smudges. He looked like an exotic male dancer playing the role of Mechanic That Aims to Please.

But the smile was always professional — always businesslike.

Even if these women persisted in their interest of him as they discussed the needs of their cars, some even bold enough to use the various parts of their car as a sort of metaphor, he returned it all back to business, never giving an inch.

It only made the women want him more.

A few of the businessmen too.

Occasionally it made him chuckle to himself, but then he’d think about why he was playing this game, and then a stress frown would lodge itself firmly in the middle of his lavendar brows. He’d been suffering headaches from it in the last 20 years, hence, his purchase of this garage.

It was his only escape; his only means of mental release.

He still trained on occasion, but as his incantations, spells and mysteries took on power, as his abilities gained in strength, he had applied his arts to his martial arts, incorporating the two, entwining them together so that they were now inseparable.

He could no longer go to his martial arts for release. They were now a part of his enchantments. For him to practice, he had to be alone, or would need to mean death to his opponent, for anyone unfortunate enough to be within the vicinity could be disintegrated by a simple movement, or stance.

It all began so long ago. Training to be a scientist to take over presiding of Castle Corp, he had found the key to unlock this line that separated magic from science, which separated him, from the past – the very distant past.

Trunks logged the order and told the woman when she should come back for her car. He could see that she was desperately trying to discern some sign of invitation on his face. He blankly stared back at her. The woman could barely contain her disappointment as she left.

***

Gohan awoke and fear filled his innocent features. There was way too much light coming in through the windows. He was late for school!

Gohan threw himself out of bed, simultaneously glancing at the clock (it was 9AM!!!) and throwing his pajama bottom across the room. He was about to grab for a pair of khakis, then he remembered.

This was the first day of summer break.

Gohan stood there, no pants, pajama top on, trying to catch his breath, his heart racing. He sat back on his bed and laughed.

Goten stormed in, a jungle of words. Gohan could barely make out all that was being said in the boy’s excitement. Something about park, water, fun. He laughed, rubbing the boy’s hair briskly. Goten just dimple-smiled at him, giggling.

“Squirt, wouldn’t you rather go with Trunks?” Goten looked momentarily saddened that his brother didn’t seem to want to take him to the park. But then the thought of spending a day, all day, with Trunks in the park was even better.

Both boys heard their mom call them down to breakfast. Goten rode his older brother’s shoulders all the way down the stairs.

Gohan ate his breakfast quickly – he yearned to get out in the sunshine after such a long year – his first year at Orange Star High School.

***

ChiChi called Bulma and arranged to take Trunks and Goten to the park for the day. ChiChi needed a day out herself, it seemed.

Gohan, after a shower, grabbed his skateboard and went for a ride around the neighborhood.

***

Gohan went through the loop at the skateboard park for his fifth time. He slid down the wall at the last second. “Darn! I thought I had it. ”

He got the idea, then, that maybe channeling his ki would help him make it all the way through the tube. Sure, it was cheating, but he was getting frustrated. It was so hot out.

He came around to make another attempt at the tube. He sped up and entered the tube, full speed, twirling through it. He “Whooped!” but already could feel himself losing momentum. He powered up slightly and could feel success at hand.

“It’s working!” He laughed joyously as he spun fully through the tube.

But something happened.

Gohan didn’t just channel his ki. He channeled something else within him — something that pierced a line between this world and another.

Gohan looped out of the tube and skidded to a stop, a look of incredulity on his pale, handsome face. The park was barren, empty of all the other teens that had been there just a moment before. There was no one in the park. Just Gohan.

He turned back to look at the tube. Its red paint, vibrant just a moment before, was now peeling and rusted in places. He didn’t like the looks of the place, so thought he should travel on his board for a while to see if he could figure out what had gone wrong.

The whole neighborhood seemed empty.

Gohan continued to travel on board, moving swiftly. Gohan didn’t notice at first that he was headed down hill, until the hill took a steep incline, that is.

“Whoa!” Gohan maneuvered his board, laughing at the opportunity afforded by this unexpected hill.

It was too late that he noticed the junkyard straight ahead at the bottom of the hill.

He moved his board so that he’d take a sharp left, to avoid the junk yard altogether. He made the sharp, quick turn and to his dismay, saw that he was now on a busy street, with several shops and stores. He maneuvered through oncoming cars, weaving through traffic. Only another sharp turn would stop his momentum.

He made the turn, and too late realized that he was going to sail straight through a car mechanics shop. Unfortunately, he headed straight for a shelf full of tools.

“Whoa!!!”

Trunks heard the crash from his position under the car he had been working on earlier.

He heard a loud crash of tools. He pushed himself out on the dolly and sat up. He couldn’t believe his eyes. An entire wall’s worth of tools had come clattering down on a still nervously giggling teenager.

The kid should be dead! Trunks thought.

“HEY!!!”

Startling the teenager, the kid spun around, tripping on several tools at once, and headed, head first, towards the car on the lift. Before Trunks could yell again, to his dismay, Trunks saw the kids head make contact with the car and watched helplessly as the car’s engine came crashing out of it.

Trunks was about to go ballistic, but then he recognized the kid and fear gripped his heart.

He had no time to act, so he made the quick incantation and threw his fingers towards the boy, adding a twirl to them at just the right moment.

That should do it, he thought.

He was relieved when he saw the boy blink at him without recognition.

“Gee, I’m sorry Mister. I lost control of my board.”

Trunks got up and looked at the chaos Gohan had created.

“Shit!” This would take a while to sort through. To Trunks’ dismay, he saw that several jars of nails and bits had all been knocked about, causing complete chaos. No, this would take hours.

Gohan saw the anger in those grey eyes directed at him and he gulped.

“Well, its going to take a few hours to sort through all of this mess. I guess you had better get started.”

Gohan blinked.

Trunks put his hands on his hips, again forgetting that they were covered in grease.

“You want me to clean this up?”

“I don’t see anyone else around.” Trunks’ mind was racing. What was Gohan doing here? He had made up his mind long ago to stay and make what he could of his own crumbling world, determined to leave that other, more perfect world to his friends.

Gohan blushed. He looked at all the tools, large and tiny, that littered the garage floor in a giant heap. He had no clue what half of the tools were even for.

He backed up, away from the man with the glaring grey eyes and scratched his head, looking confused. Trunks, frustrated, made his way towards the car on the lift. He couldn’t use his strength in front of Gohan without tipping him off, so he pretended – Trunks couldn’t help but grunt, “Hey, hand me a lever, will you. I need to lift this engine back in.”

In his embarrassment and confusion, Gohan reached for the first lever he saw, although it was rusted, sticking out of a bucket of hard cement. Trunks had turned at the last moment and saw what he was doing.

“NO! DON’T!!”

In confusion, Gohan, lifting the lever, looked back at the man screaming at him.

“What!?!”

Trunks groaned and looked down at the floor, his teeth clenched, eyes bulging.

“Shit!!”

So that’s what this is all about, Trunks thought. He should have known.

Gohan still looked at the man, who seemed to be seething. The lavendar head lifted, bitterness clear on his handsome face.

“What? I only did what you asked…” Gohan froze, noticing that the rusty looking lever was now a long and elegant sword, with a gilt handle, carved with several ancient runes.

Gohan threw the sword on the ground.

“Pick it up!” yelled the angry man, long hair flying out as he advanced on the younger man.

Gohan cowered at the look on that face. It reminded him a lot of Vegeta.

“I said pick it up!” The man was now only a foot away from Gohan, but it was clear he would not attack.

Gohan obliged. He picked up the sword and both men saw the sword flicker at his contact.

Gohan turned apologetically. “Sir, I didn’t mean to…”

“Be quiet. I’m thinking.”

Trunks felt the misery of being thrust into this situation. He tried not to look at the face of the young man, the same face of his own master from so many years ago, years before he knew what his true calling was to be. This face, Gohan’s face, only sent his emotions spiraling into a place that he had long ago suppressed.

Trunks turned to the car on the lift and stood staring at its undercarriage. He did not face Gohan as he spoke.

“Well, I guess the sword must be yours then.”

Gohan looked down at the sword in his hand. He scratched the back of his head with his other hand. “Well, thank you. I’m not really sure what I’ll do with it, though.”

“It’s not a present, you idiot!” Gohan winced at the sound in the older man’s voice. “It is an obligation.”

“An obligation?” Gohan blinked repeatedly.

“Yes,” Trunks sighed. “For both of us.” More anger seeped into his voice, the muscles of his body taut. Without even thinking about it, Gohan tensed, ready if an attack should come his way.

Still not facing him, Trunks said to Gohan, “You are the one that the sword was meant for. It’s that simple. Now, you must live up to the obligation.”

“What kind of obligation?” Gohan wasn’t too excited by the prospect so soon into his summer vacation. It was bad enough that ChiChi intended for Gohan to study every day while away from school.

“You will stay here, and train as my apprentice.” Trunks finally turned around to face the younger man. Gohan looked away. Trunks had started to tug his tank top off heading towards the front of the shop. He wiped at the sweat and grease on his torso with the shirt. He threw it in a duffle bag near the counter, and then reached for a button down shirt. He tucked it into his pants and then pulled a rubber band from out of his pocket to tie back his hair in a ponytail.

“Um, I can’t do that.” Gohan looked around at the garage with distaste. He didn’t want to be a mechanic!

A couple of men dressed for work in the garage came in.

“Hey Trunks!”

“Hello Trunks!”

“Hello Pete, Jim.”

Both men regarded Gohan, who once again appeared to be holding a rusty lever. They also saw the mess that lay at his feet.

Gohan scratched the back of his head staring at the lever in bewilderment.

“Guys, this is Gohan, my nephew. Sorry about the mess, but I was showing him something and one of the shelves gave out. He was helping me clean up.”

“We can do that.”

“Well, if it is not too much trouble, guys. Gohan and I’ll go for a bite to eat. Gohan, put the lever back in the bucket.”

Gohan just blinked and did as he was told. He would have retrieved his skateboard, but it was under the pile of tools.

***

Gohan trotted after the angry mechanic, who walked ahead of him at a brisk pace.

“Um, where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” was all he got in reply.

***

They approached what used to be one of many apartment buildings his family had once owned all over the city. It was now his only place of residence.

If Trunks were a greedy man, he could find a way to increase his riches and bring his family back to the level of wealth they had when they owned and ran Castle Corp. But after the hostile take over, Bulma just retired in the country, continuing to work on inventions, much like her father did in his final years.

When the take over had taken place, Trunks had his epiphany and so had set out to make things as simple as possible. He needed steady money, and wanted to keep his family out of the obligations that his newfound responsibilities demanded of him. Plus, he had to keep these powers a secret, and if he were still President of Castle Corp, he would have been hard pressed indeed.

He knew that something very big was coming. His portents all told him so. His runic readings also told him of the hope that was to come in the form of a young disciple that would make the sword whole again.

And here was Gohan, from the other dimension.

Gohan looked around at the unfamiliar city as they walked. It was clear to Trunks that Gohan knew he was in another dimension. They boy kept looking back to the deserted part of the city as if he were missing something there. Trunks figured that that must be where he came in. Then Trunks remembered – the park! Where he sometimes went to chant simply because it was deserted and afforded him a spot outside under the stars. That had to be the point of entry.

Well, time enough to find all of this out, he thought.

Right now, he had to explain to Gohan what would be expected of him.

Trunks was uneasy. Obviously, this impending doom was coming quicker than expected.

Gohan’s arrival told him this was so. The link between this world and the next seemed thin and if that were indeed the case, then the prosperity Trunks had left to his old friends was at risk too. This was bad – Trunks had always thought that other time was a sort of back up. If things should get too bad here, then the other world offered solution.

But if the other world too was at risk, then the solution wouldn’t work. He no longer had the security of that back up. So he had better act. There may not be time to lose.

Trunks walked up to a door in a seedy looking building. Gohan followed him, looking at the weeds choking even the grass out of existence in the front yard. He saw bars on all of the windows, a couple of which were cracked.

Trunks pushed at the door and it looked as if it would snap in two. The building’s vestibule didn’t seem much better. In fact, it was much worse. There was the unmistakable stench of urine. The mailboxes were all missing their protective doors. Trunks opened the broken inner door and waited for Gohan, looking nervous, to make his way in.

Once Gohan was in all the way, Trunks uttered something in an unknown language. Suddenly, Gohan swooned, feeling dizzy and seasick as the walls all around him seemed to melt. He rubbed at his eyes, hoping to dispel the swimmy vision.

When Gohan opened his eyes again, they widened in shock. The building was suddenly clean, with metallic walls in soft shades of blue/grey. The floor shone as if it were a blue/black lake. Stunned, he looked at Trunks, who chuckled in response.

“Come with me.”

Trunks lead Gohan up a polished iron stairway that only a moment before had been a filthy, paint-peeled, dangerous looking thing. He then led him to the largest of 3 apartments, the other 2 being vacant. He occasionally used them when he needed to indulge in physical training; they’re being empty affording him the room needed.

Once inside, he sat on a white leather couch and invited Gohan to join him. He couldn’t believe how young Gohan still was. He guessed he was about 17.

Gohan looked around at all the books lying on the shelves that lined the walls. He knew that when he had his own place someday he would eventually have the same amount of books.

Gohan looked at Trunks, seeing a look of determination on the other’s handsome face. Gohan felt his heart quicken in trepidation.

Trunks smiled. However, the smile only played at his mouth, never touching his eyes.

“You will stay here and learn what I have to teach.”

Gohan looked around nervously. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Trunks looked bored.

“Because!”

Trunks twisted his mouth, but said nothing. His eyes still looked bored.

Gohan saw determination on that apathetic face nonetheless.

“Look, I’ve got to get back home soon. My Mom will be wondering where I am.”

“You can send her a message.”

Gohan knew he was somehow in another plane of time and space. How would he explain that he simply couldn’t call up his Mother on the telephone?

Trunks smiled.

“I have ways for you to get a message to your mother. Don’t worry.”

With that, the TV turned on by itself. On the screen, Gohan could see his mother preparing lunch in their kitchen. He sat on the edge of his seat, staring at the image in astonishment.

“If you speak her name, she will hear, then see you. You will then be able to tell her that you will be staying here for awhile.”

Gohan looked at Trunks, stubbornness clear on his innocent face. “But I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home,” he whined.

Trunks looked angry as he clicked the image off by merely a look. “You will stay here and train.”

“No! You can’t make me.”

“Try to get up and leave then.” Again the bored look was back.

Gohan tried to move, but his body wouldn’t budge. He looked at Trunks in helpless frustration and impotent rage. Trunks merely looked apathetic.

“Let me go!”

“No.”

“You have to!!” Gohan wailed.

“I have to do no such thing.” The smile he gave Gohan only made the young man uneasy.

“I can’t stay here!”

“Yes you can and you must!” He looked at Gohan in such a way as to silence further protest.

“You have no choice in the matter, Gohan. There is only one man that can pick up that sword – the man destined to use that sword to fight against great evil. That choice was not made by me. It was made by Divinity, fate, destiny. You were destined to wield that sword, Gohan.”

Something dawned in Gohan’s mind. “Hey, back at the garage, and just now… you know my name. And I don’t recall telling you my name at all. How do you know it?”

Trunks had to think fast. He decided on aggression. “You idiot! Haven’t you even suspected the level of my power? Knowing your name is just a mere trifle.”

Gohan barely heard him as another thought was processing through his mind. “Your name! It’s Trunks. Just like my brother’s friend. And you look just like him, but older.”

Trunks was ready for this one. “I’m so powerful that if you saw me as I really am, your mind would cave in on itself. So, you’ve projected an image of me in your mind,” Trunks decided to toy with Gohan, a smirk on his face, “that is pleasing to you.”

Gohan blushed for some reason.

Trunks, continued, “It is the same with the name. My name, as you hear it, is Trunks. But that is not what I am saying.”

As weird as it may be, what the man said made sense. He didn’t live at Castle Corp. He worked in a garage. He figured that this Trunks was telling the truth. As Gohan thought these things, he did not realize that they were not his own thoughts. Trunks was working on Gohan’s mind, trying to dispel the connection between what Gohan knew of Trunks, both in his dimension and the man that came from the future. With enough work, Trunks was sure he could make Gohan forget it all for good.

“So, shall we begin our lessons?”

“Wait! It’s all too much! I…” Gohan ended lamely.

Trunks got up. “Gohan, I know this is a lot for you to take in, but right now we have to begin. The histories and runic prophecies I have consulted indicate that when Arthur returns for Excalibur again, it would be because terror was about to take hold of the land.”

Gohan regarded Trunks with a blank look on his face. Then, he doubled-over, cackling wildly. It took several minutes of Trunks regarding him with impatient disdain, for the young man to finally regain his composure.

“King Arthur?! Excalibur!?! You’ve got to be kidding me!” Gohan laughed again.

“Enough!” Gohan quieted, but little muffled laughs kept bubbling to the surface.

“You think it so odd, eh? Well, I thought so too when I was confronted with the fact that I am the reincarnation of The Merlin.”

Gohan looked at Trunks as if he were insane.

Trunks, angered, looked at Gohan and snapped his fingers. Gohan was suddenly dressed in just a pair of boxer shorts.

“Yipe!” Gohan tried to cover himself, blushing wildly.

“Aww, you look a little cold. Perhaps you ‘d like something more to wear.” With another snap of Trunks’ fingers, Gohan was wearing black leather pants, a black leather vest, studded dog collar and a riding crop was draped across his lap.

“Kami!!” Gohan screamed.

Trunks could barely hold in laughter as he snapped his fingers once more, Gohan sitting there in a bath towel and little else. Again, a nervous Gohan blushed furiously.

Trunks started to look bored again as he snapped his fingers one last time, returning to Gohan what little dignity he had left and his own clothing.

Gohan regarded his host furiously. “Hey, what’s the big idea?!”

Trunks leaned on the couch’s armrest, chin resting in the palm of his hand, an apathetic look on his face. “I could do a lot worse to you if you are not careful. Now pay attention and no more smart ass remarks.”

Gohan gulped nervously. “Ok.”

“Good, that’s better. Yes, it may make you laugh to think that you are the reincarnation of King Arthur, and I would rather have a better specimen before me, but you pulled the sword free. It was meant for your hand. Yes, that sword is Excalibur. It is known as other names in other realms, different parts of the universe, different times in history. Some people have called it “the Z sword,” although that may be a mistake since that sword has different powers. This sword is not just any sword. It is meant for just one person to wield. Obviously, you are that person.”

“Hey! We left the sword in the garage!” The look of panic in Gohan’s eyes reassured Trunks.

Good, Trunks thought. He’s starting to take this seriously.

Trunks took a moment to think back on the young man before him. He remembered how the young man had held himself on the battlefield. He remembered Gohan’s enormous power. And then he thought of the boy’s innocence.

The legends had got it wrong, listing King Arthur and Sir Galahad as two separate figures. But Trunks knew better. They were one and the same.

The combined power and efficiency, the calculation and intelligence, were what people had remembered about Arthur. The innocence and purity – the goodness were what they had remembered in Galahad. But Trunks had read enough of the historic accounts, from scrolls and old dusty tomes that few other people have ever read, and he knew that in fact it was one man. A man that would save his people and would find the Holy Grail – the answer to salvation. Knowing what he did about Gohan, it only made sense.

“Don’t worry. As I said, the sword is meant for you. No one else can wield it. All it is to them anyway is a rusted lever stuck in a bucket of dried cement that I use to hang signs on out in the street. It will only appear as a sword once it is in your hand and even then only when you need or want to use it.”

Gohan relaxed a little, but only a little. What was he going to do? How long was this training going to last? Would another year of his life disappear under the hands of a demanding master? What about his Mom? And Goten? And school??

Trunks watched all these thoughts play out in Gohan’s mind. He really didn’t want to push too hard in the younger man’s mind, but he did manage to catch most of Gohan’s thoughts.

“As I said, you can communicate with your Mother. Be as honest as you like. But be frank with her about one thing in particular. You will remain here for as long as you are needed, for however long that may be. I don’t know what’s coming, but your coming here has signaled that impending doom is not too far off. In the next few days, weeks, months, you will learn how to become a powerful necromancer. I will teach you everything that I know. Your power comes with tremendous responsibility Gohan. You must learn what wielding such power can mean. You must learn how to control and use this power. It is much like martial arts.”

“But necromancy?!”

Trunks started to look annoyed. He got up to pace. “For all of your gullibility, you do seem to be smart. Tell me, are you not good in school?” Trunk knew full well that Gohan studied a lot as a child. His bookish looks could only mean that these study habits had continued with a vengeance.

“Yes, I am,” Gohan blushed.

Trunks couldn’t help but smile.

“Well, then this should be natural for you. The combination of intelligence plus the discipline you have learned in training will make you an apt pupil for my arts.”

Gohan looked at Trunks sharply, wondering how he knew about Gohan’s training but Trunks just gave him an exasperated look in return. Gohan blushed again, realizing that Trunks would be able to know anything about him that he chose to.

“Come this way.”

Gohan got up, momentarily fearful that he wouldn’t be able to rise. Trunks ignored the hesitation. He headed for a room adjacent to this one and opening the door, released sulfur- laden fumes. Gohan covered his mouth and nose as he entered behind Trunks. To his dismay Trunks closed the door on them once they were both inside.

Trunks waved his arm dramatically and light flooded the room.

It’s a chem. lab! Gohan observed.

Gohan looked around at the marble topped tables brimming with bunson burners, beekers, and test tubes. Bottles full of different colored substances littered the tables. Large sheets of paper scribbled with eratic equations were taped all over the walls. A black board was thickly covered in chalk dust.

Trunks kept walking until he was in front of another door. He looked impatiently at Gohan, wanting him to follow. As Gohan neared, Trunks opened the door on a room draped in wine colored wall hangings. The room had an octagonal shape and Gohan clearly remembered that from the outside it would be impossible for this building to house such a room, but here it was.

The floor was polished black marble. At its center was a large pentagram. Runes and writing in an unrecognizable language were scrawled all over it. Gohan looked up at Trunks in fear.

Trunks crossed his arms and looked down, a little smirk on his face. “There is nothing to fear, Gohan. You will learn about all of this. And your powers will grow exponentially because of it. For our first lesson, however, you will not be pupil..” Trunks raised his eyes menacingly, ” – but sacrifice.”

Gohan breathed quickly. He tried to take a step back, but his legs were rooted to the spot. In panic, Gohan tried to turn his body, but he was immobile.

With quivering voice, uttering insensibly, he just stared in fear as Trunks approached him, determination on his face.

***

Trunks stood over his unconscious pupil and tried to quell his emotions.

I can do this, the thought. I just need to remain strong.

He stared down at the nude form of Gohan, lying on top of the pentagram on the floor. Gohan’s arms and legs pointed at 4 points of the pentacle. Gohan’s head pointed towards the 5th. His pale skin was covered in runes and more mad scribbling in a black, ash/oil substance. Trunks had chanted over the unconscious man for over two hours, using every spell of protection he knew. Trunks was at least satisfied that he had done everything in his power to help Gohan in what was to come.

He looked at the sleeping form and remembered looking at that same face, so long ago, in a bed, covered in bandages. He put the thought out of his mind.

Trunks knew that he was tired and that the spell keeping Gohan unconscious would fade soon. He’d rather have Gohan not see the writing on his body – he knew he had to keep Gohan’s trust. To have Gohan fear him would do neither man good. He knelt next to the sleeping form and picked him up in his arms.

Trunks carried Gohan to a spare bedroom and laid him on a bed. He ran his arm through the air above Gohan’s naked form and the runes disappeared. He then covered Gohan in thick blankets and resisted the urge to touch Gohan’s angelic face.

Trunks then retired to his own room, exhausted.