Chapter 04
ChiChi clucked in disapproval at him from the stove. “Why is your hair still so long, Trunks Vegeta Briefs? Don’t you know descent young men should never wear their hair past their ears, much less past their collars?” She chided him in her mothering fashion, as she sat a huge bowl of stir fried vegetables on the table in preparation for a late lunch.
“Um, well, I planned on getting a haircut aunt ChiChi. Really I did. I’ve just been really tied up with a lot of details of late.”
“Details?” one coal black eyebrow raised in query. Trunks blushed to the tips of his toes. How was he going to tell aunt ChiChi that leaving his house was becoming dangerous to his health, literally. Women, with daughters old enough to marry, were flocking into town, all because of that stupid reporter who had been on site when he had killed androids seventeen and eighteen. They brought their daughters with them in search of catching the ‘world’s greatest hero,’ as the news papers had proclaimed him, much to his embarrassment and disgust.
Older women, still young enough to have kids, and some who weren’t, were likewise chasing him everywhere he went. He had been hit on by women aunt ChiChi’s age in the last couple of months, in addition to the teenagers, and even more than his fair share of men, who literally tried to rip him apart just grabbing for a handful of his clothing, or his hair, as a souvenir.
They always appeared out of nowhere, usually to attack as soon as he walked out of a restaurant, or store he had gone into. He had been mobbed many dozens of times, by crazy female groupies, and had lost more than one shirt, a heavy leather Capsule Corp. logo jacket, and almost lost his britches on far too many occasions in trying to escape the frenzied hordes he now tried to avoid like the plague. He didn’t dare show his face in any larger community since his picture, both in Super Saiyajin, and afterwards, helping an elderly man out of his destroyed vehicle, had hit television and newspapers world wide.
He had more paparazzi photographers trying to keep up with him, for a snap shot to put in the latest rag gossip columns than any other celebrity on the planet, including the various royal families, who were far more interesting due to all the scandals they involved themselves in. Bulma had originally thought it funny that her son was the most famous and sought after person on the planet, and hadn’t bothered to conceal the fact when Trunks had tried to confide his alarm to her over the ripped and torn condition of his latest pair of jeans. He almost hadn’t make it out of that particular gang up with anything covering his private anatomy at all.
He had been left with one partial leg, his waist and crotch area more or less intact, and one of his boots. He had decided at that point it was time to go into hiding, for his own safety, as well as his fanatical fans. He had been forced that day to resort to a mild Ki attack to knock his fans off of him so he could escape their oppressive and ecstatic presence.
His own mother had advised him to go out, and have fun with the girls he thought pretty, since he had so many to choose from. She had even told him that her ex, Yamacha would have been green with envy if he were alive to see the action Trunks had under his nose just begging for attention. He hadn’t told her about the problem with his finding the women in question to be anything but appealing, although a couple of the guys who had been chasing him at that time had flashed through his mind’s eye momentarily. Instead he had replied in another fashion. Trunks’ reply had been less than amiable to the idea, no matter that he evaded the part about his perceived personal tastes, and Bulma had smacked him soundly for the use of foul language, when an hour of battling verbally with her had failed to get her to leave him alone. She had scoffed at him when he had resorted to telling her that it was suicide to even think about looking at any girl who was after him, with the way women had begun acted around him, since shortly after he became famous.
How could he tell his most prudish, if not blood related, aunt that he was being harassed and chased by a flock of women, and men, who would even go to the lengths of flashing body parts at him, in a bid to get his attention even temporarily? He continued to ponder the best way to try and answer her one word question while leaning on the kitchen doorjamb, hot faced and tongue tied.
“Well speak up young man. I know you have a working tongue in your mouth so stop looking for an excuse and answer the question!” ChiChi growled at his extended silence, thinking he was looking to lie to her about why his hair was still overly long for her tastes.
“Um, well, see it’s like this… You know how that reporter with the camera took those pictures of me fighting the androids..?”
“Yes, and all about how he had recorded everything you three said to each other and made quite a celebrity of you… Your point?” she demanded of him in a matter of fact manner.
Trunks cleared his throat nervously as he stared up at the ceiling looking for a calm, tame way to explain the magnitude of the �details’ he was currently trying to avoid. “Um,.. well,… aunt ChiChi you know how the Androids often killed off the armies, and that most of the armies were men, with just a few women in the ranks right?”
“Yes I am aware that there is a shortage of men because of those androids, Trunks. Are you saying the ‘details’ you’ve been busy with, is a girl?” She grinned slyly at the tall young man in the doorway.
“Um…., well…, it’s not exactly like one girl is in the picture, per say, aunt ChiChi,” he started to explain when he was cut off with a squeal of excitement.
“How wonderful! Does your mother know about her yet?” ChiChi gushed and Trunks almost went ballistic, trying to get her attention away from the obvious church wedding, and reception menu, he could see flaring behind her dark eyes.
His tone was biting and frigid as he forcefully threw the details at her trying to stem the tide of her thoughts before she could get any ideas. “Aunt Chichi it isn’t just A Girl…, or A Woman.! If I walk out my front, or back door, I practically trip over dozens of them! And to make matters worse there is no way I am going to be tackled by that many women if I can help it! So please stop before you have me married off to a couple dozen, sex crazed women at the same time in an afternoon ok?!” His exasperation turned to immediate remorse at the stunned look on ChiChi’s face. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say it like that…” He started to stammer out an apology as he looked at her wide eyed look of incomprehension.
He began to blush even deeper, when she started to chuckle as the full blunt of his dilemma sank in. “Oh my, Trunks….” A hand covered her dainty mouth as she tried to contain the laughter before continuing in a teasing tone….. “That’s terribly rude of them to camp on your doorstep don’t you think?” she chortled at his even bleaker and redder faced expression. “Are you saying you can’t get away from all the ladies who think you’re a fine catch?”
Trunks groaned in defeat. “Aunt ChiChi, you’re as bad as my mother,” he growled under his breath in exasperation. He really felt like a kindred spirit to the feisty girl laying in Gohan’s old bed, wracked with fever, at that moment. Trunks moved towards the back of the house to check on her, in self defense he told himself blithely, with a mental sigh of gratitude that Hunter was practically the only female around, who hadn’t gone insane and tried to physically tease to get him in bed, if not try to rip off his clothes to rape him.
He mentally kicked himself for even trying to explain anything to aunt ChiChi as he went to open the door a crack, to look in on the obviously ill waif, to be sure she was still breathing, because Bulma and their family medical doctor hadn’t arrived yet.
The first thing Trunks noticed when he touched the door handle, was the odd tingling sensation that flowed from the knob, into his fingertips. A low humming sound quickly filled his senses as he turned the knob, causing him to shake his head in an effort to dislodge the buzzing that suddenly, and inexplicably, assaulted his sensitive ears. He was getting stranger than ever, he admonished himself as he opened the door a fraction to peek into the room, and look in on the girl who was becoming so much a part of his waking and sleeping thoughts.
He chuckled softly at himself for being such an eccentric person so young. Wasn’t such flights of fancy for the superstitious and the feeble minded? He looked in through the crack in the doorway, only to whip the door wide open in shock, at the sight before him. The girl was wrapped in a strange bluish- purple energy mist, that flared with reds and oranges and pale yellow tones. Every flare of color seemed accompanied by a distinct sound, almost like music, but not quite audible to the ear somehow. He had, and yet hadn’t heard anything like music until he had turned the door knob. Only the tingling in his hand had given him warning of what was happening behind the closed door.
Now his face and upper body felt that vibration full force, ticking his nerve endings like a thousand tiny feathers sweeping across his skin. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was alarming to a warrior trained to fight anything that had any power of measure. Why hadn’t he felt any Ki from her? He dropped into an altered state of consciousness, where he could read her, and felt only a faint pulse of Ki coming from her. She wasn’t using any Ki apparently, and her own natural functions were the only sources of that form of power he could detect even now. Those sources were weakening he realized with a start, and the buzzing musical tones seemed to somehow be tied to the very core of the Ki she was still able to show.
He felt a disorienting wave of dizziness as he stood in the doorway, unaware that he had uttered a sound. The hulking presence of Gohan’s grandfather behind him, snapped him back to the reality of where he was, and that, for the moment at least, the woman was not really a danger to him or the others.
“My goodness I thought I heard her when we met. Guess I was right.” the big man said amicably. “Didn’t think about the fact she might have some training in healer techniques though. Seems she is on the right track after all.” Grandpa Ox slapped him on the back nearly knocking him over.
“Healer?” Trunks managed to stammer past suddenly stiff lips.
“Sure. That’s a healer’s trick I learned when I was a little boy. This particular type of healing trance only works for you if you happen to be using it on yourself. Makes me wonder if she can help others too.” He scratched his curly white beard and watched for a few more moments while Trunks tried to comprehend what ChiChi’s father was telling him.
“Why ca’can’t I f.. fee,, feel her k-Ki on a very strong level then?” Trunks stuttered as he tried to ask the question, his nerves suddenly tightly wound over this unusual development.
“Er, I suppose because you are supposed to hear her. It’s a soul song thing.” Ox answered him truthfully, if a bit confused. “Didn’t you ever learn anything about that kind of stuff? I would have thought Gohan would have at least told you something about it since I taught him a couple things along the way… Not much mind you, he was too busy training to fight all the time. Soul song isn’t very much help in a fight, except for helping numb pain and start healing yourself, unless you are really advanced in your training, and have a really huge amount of courage.” The old man looked at his young adopted grandson with real concern over the pale faced young man in front of him who visibly winced when he mentioned Gohan’s name.
“No, he never mentioned anything called a soul song. He was too busy pushing me towards Super Saiyajin to have the time I guess.” Trunks looked distinctly uncomfortable with the topic, so Ox decided to explain things to him, because he could explain exactly what the girl was doing as she did it.
“Come on in here and sit at the desk while I explain what’s going on then,” he ordered Trunks cheerily, pushing past the compact, muscular young man.
Trunks followed obediently enough, but couldn’t stop looking at the still form, as if he were about to be attacked. “Now stop looking so worried. She isn’t going to bite you. In fact she probably couldn’t do anything worse than get rid of any acne you might still have with what she’s doing.” Ox chuckled at Trunk’s look of embarrassment. “I want you to look at me Trunks and do exactly what I tell you to do. You’ll get an idea of what I am trying to explain when I say she isn’t trying to hurt anyone. Can you do that for me and stop looking for a battle for a few minutes?”
Trunks nodded once in reply, and tore his gaze off the recumbent girl to watch Ox King as requested. “Her Ki is weakening grandpa Ox. I can feel that much. Shouldn’t we get your Dr. Rind to come in here again, or something?” he told the elderly giant who had been as much family to him as Gohan had been.
“First close your eyes for me.” At the wide eyed look of dismay on Trunks’ face, Ox shook his head bemused. “You have to trust me or you’ll never understand the human half of your own power Trunks.”
“Human half?” Trunks looked at his old mentor’s grandfather as if he had gone mad. “I know plenty about being human..” he tried to argue half- heartedly.
“No son you don’t know anything about being human. You only know how to be Saiyajin, because it’s the easier power to access. Even a lot of humans try to go the Ki based route. I know. I did when I was a youngster, because the soul song takes so much more discipline. But I also learned somewhat how to control the human dimensions of my talents as well. How do you think I got to become the Ox King?”
“Um…, I never really thought about it to be honest.” Trunks sheepish reply brought a smile to the old man’s lips.
“Well I got called Ox King because I can talk to the animals and they understand me. That and I’m as big as a Ox too.” Booming laughter shattered the room’s stillness, breaking Hunter’s concentration. Her ki leapt back up to normal, expected levels, for someone who was in no danger of dying, much to Trunks’ immediate relief.
The breach of her concentration, however, sent her slightly levitated body slamming down onto the bed, eliciting an indignant shriek of pain to be ripped from her lips, before she could block the reaction. She finally managed to grind out between jagged breaths, “What…, the…., Hell?” at the two men in the room, one who had been laughing heartily, the other, who was looking at her like she had grown five heads.
“Oh. Dear Me. Sorry ’bout that Hunter. Trunks was a bit worried about your doing a self healing trance. I was trying to explain a bit about non-Ki power but got a bit side tracked.”
She groaned in mock despair.. “Okies Gramps I gotcha. Let me guess he’s just one more of the clueless right?”
“I am not clueless.” Trunks snapped reflexively, before considering the fact, that in this form of training, he actually knew nothing at all. These were brand new powers Ox had been about to try and explain to him.
“Sure thing hot shot.” she smirked evilly at him. Trunks looked startled. A smirk was something he did, or his father had, which was where his came from. But to see this slip of a girl smirking was too much. She was needling him and it was working all to well. He felt stupid at the moment, since Gohan hadn’t told him anything about this kind of power, and he was highly annoyed with his lost mentor, slash, beloved crush, slash, brother.
“Look, whatever your name is again,” He had completely blanked out her name, in the temper he had brewing, over being embarrassed so deeply, as well as by being unsettled by her blatant power, which he couldn’t sense in the normal fashion. “I am not about to put up with anyone calling me clueless do you hear me. I could rip you apart with a pinky finger if I wanted to. I’m a Super Saiyajin and the strongest fighter on this whole planet. In fact I have even achieved ascended Saiyajin levels so I am beyond Super Saiyajin now. I killed androids seventeen and eighteen without even trying hard.” Trunks was furious over the audacious way the woman looked at him, one eyebrow quirked at an angle that was more insolent than the act of someone paying attention.
In fact, he wondered if she had even heard a word he had said by the look of bemused distance on her face. “Hhhmmmm….” One long drawn out syllable was all he got from her.
“Did you hear a word I just said?”
“My name is Hunter, to the best of my knowledge.. At least it is the only name I’ve any memory of, and that came from a wrist band I had on.. As per the rest.. You are babbling about fighting power for some odd reason.” Her focus on him phased out again to his deep annoyance.
“Look, Hunter, I don’t believe you have the right idea ignoring me here.” Trunks ground out between clenched teeth, only to be hushed by Ox King.
“Hunter is busy talking to someone, Trunks. Let her be a minute.”
“She is not talking! She’s ignoring me!” Trunks huffed.
“No I mean she’s talking through her mind. I have seen that kind of look before. It’s telepathy.”
“Actually it’s imagery, combined with empathic feeling.” Hunter broke into the conversation. Both men turned to look at her at the same instant.
“HUH?” Trunks looked suspiciously at her, all traces of anger gone in the startled moment.
“Do you expect a star dragon to be able to form our words easily, when they have a tongue all their own?” Hunter cocked her head at him, looking as if she were staring down at a peon, instead of being flat on her back in bed, while he sat upright and was currently sitting so that he had to look down upon her. It reminded him of his father’s look when he wanted to intimidate someone. It was just as effective, Trunks had to admit squirming uncomfortably.
He fidgeted with irritation at her high handed tactic, even if he didn’t consider himself to be a vain person. It was a feeling he didn’t like. “No I guess a dragon wouldn’t think like we do.” he managed to answer honestly. He reddened, under the scrutiny he received by this stranger, because he couldn’t think of anything to come back with in his own defense to her obvious dislike of him.
Ox was chuckling softly to himself as he watched the two hot headed individuals growl and snap at each other. It reminded him suddenly of Bulma and Vegeta, even though Trunks wasn’t nearly so volatile as his sire had been. ChiChi was standing in the doorway watching the interplay between Trunks, and her new ‘pet project’ as well.
Son ChiChi grinned, as an idea struck, fully formed in her mind’s eye, on how to get Hunter and Trunks together. She hadn’t missed the similarities between father, and son, over the years. Trunks was often shy, and usually well mannered, unlike his father. But Trunks frequently exhibited the same fire, and willpower, that had been so much a part of the Saiyajin Prince’s life. Trunks loved to fight as much as his father had, and still trained obsessively, even as his father had during his lifetime.
ChiChi thought about how a woman in his life might curb some of Trunks gluttony for physically inflicting punishment, via his training, upon himself. A woman in his life would, hopefully spark his sensitivity to others’ worries over his continual obsession with protecting a planet gone mad, which would hopefully, in turn, get him to slow down. If the right woman came along to fill the empty place, in her purple haired step-nephew’s life, he might truly settle down.
Even if she had detested Vegeta during his lifetime, Bulma had been quite happy when he had been alive. Perhaps Trunks would find similar happiness with a girl, who made him think twice, as Vegeta had with Bulma. ChiChi pondered the possibilities, watching the two youths grumble at each other, over the little details of what it was to have power that wasn’t ki based in nature. She had some work to do and a lot of cajoling to start with. Trunks had, after all, asked if she needed anything repaired beside the door hinges earlier today which was as good an excuse as any to keep him coming over to visit.
