Welcome to DBZ Love Garden

► Coping     Mourning     Lapis and Lazuli     Departure     787 Bulma     Leaving     Doubts     Wishes     Trust     The Talk     Saiyan Eyes     Tapion     Bonding, part 4     Urunai Baba     I see you     Truths     Farewells     Loss, part 1     Kisses     Resolutions, part 1     Resolutions, part 2     Forgiveness     Love     Gifts     Home     Pyrrhic victory (Loss, part 2) While Trunks knew she copied absolutely everything that was in Sixteen, she also knew the hardware was lost, destroyed by Cell. Bulma and Dr Brief had praised how complex and unique it was, when she stayed over the lab with the baby and half-listened in. Some components from the sublab had been brought back alongside the server’s hard drive before Krillin, Gohan and herself blew up the place, so perhaps with the notes, they could rebuild Sixteen, or at least make components powerful enough to run his programs, but she wasn’t sure. ‘I know enough to realize this is far beyond me,’ she thought, looking at the two somewhat hopeful Cyborgs that faced her.

“.. might be possible,” she repeated, crossing her arms, ignoring the uncanny feeling of the armor hiding her chest.

Vegeta’s armor. She still had no idea how she ended up wearing it, and any possible scenario that popped up in her mind, she refused to even consider, but at least the armor was flexible enough to adapt to her size, but thick enough to not change shapes with just the size of the soft tissue that composed her breasts. Compressed, but not bound. She was physically comfortable, but her mind wasn’t at ease. Even if she knew the two Cyborgs knew, at least according to what Sixteen had told her. ‘Sweep it under the rug and never mention it and perhaps it never happened,’ she told herself.

“Capsule Corp should be able to do it, if it’s possible. That or you wait a year for the Dragon Balls to become active again and if you behave well and if she agrees, she might help you gather them to wish for Sixteen to be rebuilt as he was prior to his destruction,” she added with a stern look, pushing aside the feelings of unease she’s been having since she came back from the dead with hazy bad omen impressions.

“What do you mean, if we behave, you’re the ones who attacked us first,” Eighteen protested and crossed her arms in return, just as defensive.

There was no arguing there; if Krillin was to be believed, the Cyborgs didn’t attack first. Vegeta and then herself did. Trunks hmpfed.

“Your goal was to kill Son Goku. Of course his allies would intervene.”

“Nah, that was that bastard Gero’s wish. And Sixteen’s, because he was built like that. Us? We were in it because we thought it’d be a fun challenge. But with Cell and all that, all of that got null and void. We’re free. We just want our pal back.” Seventeen was stern and straight to the point.

“No leveling cities, no torture, no hunting earthlings, no counting points to see who murders the most in a given set amount of time?” Trunks asked and studied their shocked reactions.

That all sounded awfully specific and if the death stare was anything to believe, Seventeen and Eighteen thought Trunks was convinced this was what they were up to. They were stunned.

“What kind of sick monsters do you think we are?!” Eighteen was offended. Perhaps that explained why Trunks jumped her when she beat Vegeta to a pulp.

“Is.. that what you think of us?” Seventeen could believe they were able do to all these things, but why would they?

“For the last seventeen years, it is what—” ‘what you’ve been doing in my world,’ but these Cyborgs and the ones in her world weren’t the same, as much as she and the baby weren’t the same, as much as this world’s Gohan and hers weren’t the same.

She forced herself to remember Krillin’s empathy, the photo at Mika’s place and the few she’d seen in the diary found by Gohan, even if those humans were dead all along, perhaps she was wrong. She also considered the two fought against Cell and tried to act from within, and Sixteen. Shame washed over her. Seventeen had been brought back to life from a wish to bring back good people, but she remembered it didn’t really work out for her. Her eyes darkened at the prospect of realizing she wasn’t a good person at all in the end.

“It is a complicated story, and it is partially related to why you had no data on me,” she stated with a voice betraying defeat and doubt. She gave a proper meaningful glance at Eighteen, remembering the blonde expressing her surprise about not having data on Trunks, when she intervened in her fight against Vegeta.

“The day after tomorrow, at dawn. Where Gero’s lab was,” she hesitated for the place, thinking first about coming back to where they currently were, but it was too close to Central City. She wouldn’t ask to meet them anywhere near a city, nor at a place where her allies might be, just in case they decided to change their minds and murder them; that excluded Kame House and the Lookout. She also needed a place which the three of them knew as a landmark.

The twins barely acknowledged the date and place that Trunks was gone.

“He really wanted us dead, and thinks we're cruel monsters... Weird right?” Seventeen was left to ponder. Nothing made sense.

“I thought Sixteen said it was a girl?”

“I think he’s trans, the compression cloth thing is pro’ly a binder.” Seventeen gestured at his chest. “I mean, with a daddy like Vegeta..”

“That’s stupid. You’re stupid,” the blonde twin protested. Why would Vegeta influence anything?

“Stupid in love yeah,” Seventeen was nonchalant about it and enjoyed the lightheartedness of it all. It was better than delving into the horrors they witnessed and experienced with Cell.

“Why do you always have to crush on the weird ones?” Eighteen nudged her brother and they flew away from the Cell Games area.

“I like a challenge!” The raven-haired one lied, but his twin knew better than to press him for the truth.

She, too, was dealing with the aftermath of everything. ‘If clinging onto Trunks helps him, then I should encourage it. I just hope he doesn’t end up being hurt.’ She'd be a fool to chastise him after all, considering the curious crush she developed about the baldie who had been nothing but kindness to her. To them both. She'd never forget his use of the wish to remove their bombs.

“Whatever. You think we’ll get Sixteen back?”

“I have faith,” he took his twin’s hand as they disappeared in the horizon.



Trunks needed time to process everything, put her thoughts in order, reassess her plan of action, and return to Capsule Corp before Bulma found her belongings and her letter.

Bulma had been waiting nervously in the living room and watching the newscast being in awe at the miracle happening thanks to Cell’s defeat at the hands of Mr Satan as, the moment the nightmare stopped, all those Cell had murdered (as well as those on that tiny island that suffered grave explosions of 'unknown origins') had been brought back to life. The gang had used the Dragon Balls on the Lookout, she knew it, they’d won.

Bulma heard the kitchen door open, she jumped out of the couch and just about jumped in Trunks’ arms who was walking hastily. Trunks stopped and kept her at arm's length. The young adult was a little dusty but otherwise fine.

“Oh goodness Trunks you’re alright! I saw your fight before the cameras went out! Son-kun did it, didn’t he? I’m so glad, everything’s over! Is that Vegeta’s armor? Is he ok?”

Trunks, doing her best to push aside that not only her allies saw her fight, but the whole fucking world too, briefly explained that it was Gohan who killed the monster and that sadly, Goku had passed and had refused to come back (Tenshinhan briefly informed her when they were saying their farewells).

Everyone else was alright and scattered back to their own devices. She said Vegeta would eventually come back, but he needed a moment alone, and that yes, this was his armor, but Trunks refused to elaborate. She left out that she herself had died, considering Bulma’s tears about Goku, she didn’t need to add more to her pain. Trunks then asked for a minute to get changed and that they had something to discuss.

While Trunks got sorted, Bulma took the time to call Chichi. It was the Ox King who answered the phone, and judging from the cries, Bulma could easily guess Chichi had just found out about Goku’s passing, so she conveyed her condolences and offered to have a memorial at Capsule Corp with everyone the following evening. ‘Yes, even if it’s Trunks’ birthday, of course it’s fine,’ the young mother assured her friend.

Trunks went to retrieve her belongings (and burn her letter) from the undergrounds, changed out of the armor, showered, and put back on a black and yellow outfit with a fabric binder, placed the armor back in Vegeta’s room, and was back to signal to Bulma she was available. She saw the alternative version of her mother on the phone, and gestured she’d be in the lab, earning her an ok gesture by the genius. She went there and noticed Dr Brief was working on some sort of motherboard, seemingly oblivious of the combat that happened just a couple of hours prior. She lit herself a well deserved cigarette and took out her computer to look at Sixteen’s files.

The problem was set out to Dr Brief and Bulma, about how Sixteen, being an Android, wasn’t brought back to life, but that she had copied all of his memory, programs, files, and code. She had a back-up of the software, but nothing about the hardware.

Neither Brief was confident about being able to rebuild Sixteen, as the hardware was custom made to fit the software, and the few components Krillin had brought back alongside the schematics and the supercomputer’s hard drive were completely unrelated. They said they’d get a look, but without the proper hardware, it was unlikely. The Dragon Balls, the following year, would be their best option to bring him back.

“So what about you now, Trunks? You’re ready to go back home?” Bulma inquired, sad to think about her older son leaving, but it was what needed to be done.

“I have a few other things to get done first. And I.. need a spaceship.”

“New Namek, mh?” Dr Brief asked without the cigarette leaving his lips; after all, he had helped calculate how to get there with the strange compass, so he knew Trunks intended to go. Trunks confirmed with a slight nod.

“That’s why you asked us to repair the 787 Time Machine,” Bulma realized. “You want to wish handsome-twenty-year-old you back.”

Trunks again confirmed, she had an urgent feeling about it, as if he was waiting for her. She also intended to see whether that world’s Dende would accept becoming the Guardian of Earth too; now she knew she was to keep her lineage and Vegeta’s name to herself.

“Knowing the state of my world, I do not think there are enough resources or engineers in 787 to build a functional spaceship. I know it is a big ask, as you’ve already given me so much and me so little… Even Goku-san died anyway.” Her mission was ‘save the world by making sure Goku didn’t die’ but... he died anyway.

Bulma promptly made her shut up and that of course she’d be able to take the Gravity Room once repaired in a couple of days. It was, after all, their fastest spaceship, and Vegeta could wait until they made him a new one, ‘he’ll understand, and if he doesn’t, well he can pound sand,’ Bulma even added. Trunks was forced to accept the generosity without a peep as her thanks were refused. She was also told about the memorial for Goku the following evening, and that they’d celebrate the baby’s birthday that same afternoon, prior to the service.



Locked in her room, Trunks kept the radio off, if the Cyborgs went on a rampage, she would find out from Bulma or the Briefs, but she couldn’t bear to hear all of the praise given to Mr Satan. She wasn’t angry at him for taking the win; knowing Gohan, he surely appreciated not having any publicity, but she was annoyed at how much Mr Satan overplayed it by insulting her and her allies. She didn’t need that kind of stress in her state of mind. She knew something deep within was wrong with her, since her death, she remembered being taken aside because she died in a universe that wasn’t her own, but the rest was blurry, like a nightmare, the restless feelings of anguish, lack of agency, a profound pain and desire to fight and carry on her mission beyond the bare minimum.

This world was saved, for best or for worse, and yet her soul felt restless. Something was missing, deep down, she needed to figure herself out now. She remembered she needed to claim complete victory, fix it, triumph over despair, by any means necessary.

“I will be using that Time Machine’s return procedure. Then I will come back to this world, so I can use my Time Machine’s return procedure and bring peace to my world.”

She conjured her plan out loud, that same afternoon, on her back on the bed. Somehow, something told her that using the return procedure from her Time Machine while being in 787 would be a problem. She visualized it as lines linking parallel worlds together, and since the 787 machine crossed its own lines by traveling further back in time, this was why everything had been a mess. Using her own Time Machine and using the return procedure in 787 would certainly be a terrible idea.

'But if I go to 787, that Time Machine will run out of fuel, so we’ll need to charge it. That means staying there for a few extra months…'

She’d been away from her mother for over a year already, but she couldn’t return yet. It was getting long and stressful, and she just wanted to finish the job now she had the strength to do so. The hollow feeling lingering would have to wait for as long as necessary, as she had still so much to take care of, one step at a time.



By late afternoon, Vegeta was back in the compound. He had spent enough time where he had first lost against Kakarot, contemplating his loss of purpose now that the son of a bitch decided to stay dead. That third class scum died stronger than him, too.

But most importantly, his own reaction to Trunks’ death surprised him, and he needed to accept that not only the kid was his heir, but also someone whom he’d sacrifice everything for. He remembered the interference of.. someone? someone he couldn’t sense, when Trunks’ revival was not happening. He didn’t remember the details, as if a cloud veiled his memory. He remembered Trunks wasn’t revived immediately, he remembered wanted to destroy anyone and anything and make it all end, and then, finally, his heir was back. So he left to deal with his confusion on his own, not willing to let anyone see him in such a strange, weak state.

He’d brought the body over to the Lookout so his heir would be with them and not with him. Still, they had unresolved business, and eventually the ki disappeared near West City. It was time to go back to the Briefs and deal with it all.

First, the woman and the baby. He found them in the gardens, playing with some toys he didn’t care to take notice of. So he approached them quietly. The baby saw him first and pointed, babbling something he couldn’t hear. The blue vixen saw him as well and beckoned him over and baby-talked about ‘Papa’. Usually, Vegeta would have ignored and left them, but instead he got closer. He must have had a look on his face because his mate stood from the grass where she was sitting with the baby, letting it play on its own and she sat on a bench. He stood by her, arms crossed, gloveless hands under his arms.

“Vegeta,” she looked up at him, her calling of his name telling him she knew something.

He only acknowledged with a slight hmph, eyes fixated on the baby.

“Trunks came home to pack his things, he’ll be leaving soon.”

Of course the brat was leaving. ‘Nobody but you is going to save your world.’

“You owe him an apology, after your stunt with Cell.”

Vegeta glanced back, frowning, tense, and eyes questioning. The wench knew.

“Tenshinhan and Piccolo were watching from the Lookout, and they told me how you let him go. And he told me you broke two of his ribs.” No shouting. The blue-haired woman always shouted, but what he saw was cold, much more dangerous anger in her blue eyes. “You’re lucky all ended up alright thanks to Son-kun and Gohan-kun.”

Vegeta looked back at the baby, he couldn’t look at his mate anymore as she twisted the knife as only she could. He deserved the retaliation, and it was only because she wasn’t a Saiyan that would physically beat him to an inch of his life that she instead attacked with her far more efficient tools. Did she not know the brat also died?

“And now Son-kun is dead.”

“Woman, I know,” he answered with a tired voice. “I tried apologizing, but the brat didn’t hear it. I know earthling apologies involve flowers, sweets and ‘a romantic’ dinner, so I need you to organize that.”

Bulma couldn’t believe her ears, every hint of anger just leaving her instantly, and then she plain laughed out loud and shook her head in disbelief. The mental image of the two on a date, complete with candles and holding hands, was to die for, and she laughed again, which only irritated the Prince who now believed Trunks had given him false information.

“Oh Vegeta. That’s adorable. Who told you that?”

“The brat,” he growled a threat. He was played for a fool!

“Aw... He told you what flowers I like, didn't he? Vegeta, come here. That’s the earthling way to apologize to your.. mate.” Still the word bothered her, but she was going to use his terminology for wherever they stood as a couple.

“Fuck it all why are your goddamn customs so fucking complex and intertwined with random ass rituals about everything instead of just eviscerating those one dislikes!”

Vegeta was all red, embarrassed and annoyed by his own ignorance of the complex customs of this society. Of course his spawn had explained the earthling way to apologize, but Trunks had explained it in the context of apologizing to Bulma.

“Language!” Bulma scolded and stood to take his arm. Vegeta grumbled some more, but didn’t push away, even if he irradiated annoyance. “Ok Vegeta, I get it, this is all strange for you. You want to apologize to Trunks? I’ll help you. It won’t be hard. You gave him your armor didn’t you? Well he was wearing it, so that means something, right?” Vegeta barely acknowledged. “But geez, you spent a whole ass year with him… Use your words and be explicit, as we’ve practiced, alright?”

The Prince accepted even if the woman used her vicious tongue to stab him in such a way that he had to admit defeat. He sat down and she forced him to uncross his arms and take her hand with his bare one.

“Let’s start then.” ► Coping     Mourning     Lapis and Lazuli     Departure     787 Bulma     Leaving     Doubts     Wishes     Trust     The Talk     Saiyan Eyes     Tapion     Bonding, part 4     Urunai Baba     I see you     Truths     Farewells     Loss, part 1     Kisses     Resolutions, part 1     Resolutions, part 2     Forgiveness     Love     Gifts     Home     Pyrrhic victory (Loss, part 2)