Bulma and Trunks

At Trunks's house,

Son Gohan lay in bed, breathing slowly and evenly, fast asleep.

His filthy clothes had been removed, and bandages covered his entire body. Only his eyes, nose, and mouth showed, making him look like a mummy.

"Fifteen broken bones, severe internal bleeding in multiple organs, a brain hemorrhage, and extensive muscle tears. It's incredible he's still alive with injuries this bad. Saiyans are unbelievably resilient."

Bulma marveled as she gave Son Gohan a Recovery Potion.

Once she had finished, she pulled Trunks aside and asked, "Trunks, what exactly happened? Gohan's injuries are terrible, but he's clearly alive. Yesterday, though, you..."

"Gohan was lying in a pool of blood yesterday. I couldn't sense him at all, so I buried him. I'm sorry..." Trunks rubbed his reddened eyes and lowered his head.

"Then tell Mom everything that happened yesterday, from the beginning," Bulma said.

"Okay."

Trunks nodded. Recalling the previous day, he began to recount it to Bulma, word by word.

"After Gohan and I finished training yesterday, the Androids suddenly appeared in a nearby city and started destroying everything."

"I wanted to go with Gohan to stop them, but he tricked me. He knocked me out when I wasn't looking."

"By the time I woke up and got there, it was too late. Gohan was lying in a pool of blood, and I couldn't sense any life in him. Those two damned Androids were nowhere to be found."

At that, Trunks clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, veins bulging on his forehead.

"After that, I buried Gohan..."

It was exactly what Trunks had told her through his tears when he came home yesterday.

Not a single detail had changed.

Bulma fell silent for a moment, then said, "Gohan was lucky. He must not have been completely dead yesterday, and you went and acted rashly..."

Bulma raised a hand to smack Trunks.

But when she saw him standing there with his head bowed and his eyes red, her gaze wavered. She sighed and lowered her hand.

"Oh, forget it. What matters is that he's alive. Thank the heavens for that."

Trunks must have felt terribly guilty.

After all, no one wanted Gohan alive more than he did. He respected and admired Gohan so much.

Bulma's expression softened, and she reached out to stroke Trunks's soft hair.

Son Gohan slept for two and a half days.

On the third day, he finally woke.

He stared blankly at the ceiling for a while before remembering that he had been reborn.

He was at Trunks's house.

It took him another half minute to turn his head.

A purple-haired boy was sleeping soundly with his head resting at the foot of the bed. Whatever he was dreaming about had put a smile on his face.

A beautiful woman in a white lab coat bustled around the room, flipping through her notes one moment and working through calculations on a computer the next.

In the middle of the room stood a half-finished machine with a peculiar design.

Son Gohan looked at it. After thinking for a long moment, he realized it was probably the legendary Time Machine.

A few years from now, Trunks would use it to travel more than a decade into the past and bring Son Goku the medicine that could cure his viral heart disease.

Son Goku would be saved.

The timeline would split there,

becoming two different worlds.

As Son Gohan thought about it, he swallowed. His mouth was dry, and his throat felt like it was burning.

"Tr... Trunks. Water."

His voice came out as a hoarse murmur.

Then he lifted his bandaged leg and nudged Trunks's arm.

"Ah! Who kicked me?"

Trunks jolted awake.

His eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright.

Then he saw Son Gohan blinking at him.

"Gohan, you're... you're awake? That's great! That's so great!" The boy's face lit up with delight, but he clearly hadn't heard what Son Gohan had said.

"You little brat, get Gohan some water." Bulma walked over and gave Trunks an exasperated tap on the head.

"Oh! Right." Trunks finally caught on. He picked up the water bottle by the bed, unscrewed the cap, and held it to Son Gohan's lips.

Son Gohan managed two swallows, but nearly as much water spilled down the corners of his mouth and soaked the bandages around his neck.

"I'll do it myself," Son Gohan said.

He wriggled until he was sitting upright.

The bandages on his hands were in the way, making it hard to move.

So he gave his right arm a shake. A flicker of energy burst out and shredded the bandages.

He took the bottle from Trunks and drained it in a few long gulps.

Bulma sat down beside him and asked with concern, "Gohan, how do you feel now?"

Son Gohan glanced at her. "Much better. I'm just starving."

As if to back him up, his stomach gave a loud growl.

"Mom, I'm hungry too," Trunks said.

"That's good. Gohan, get some rest and don't move around too much yet. I'll make you something to eat." Bulma smiled, then turned to Trunks and tugged him along.

"Trunks, come help me."

"Okay." Trunks nodded.

"Gohan, I'll go cook with Mom. We can talk in a bit," Trunks said with a smile.

"Okay," Son Gohan replied.

Mother and son left the bedside and headed for the kitchen.

By now, Dr. Brief and his wife were dead, and so was Vegeta.

Bulma and Trunks had only each other to rely on.

But Son Gohan had it even worse.

He was the only one left in his family.

Chi-Chi and Ox-King had died more than a year ago, around the time he lost his left arm.

While he lay unconscious for those few days, the Androids had attacked Mount Paozu.

When Bulma and Trunks came out carrying plates of food,

they found Son Gohan dressed in his bright yellow martial arts uniform, standing in the middle of the room and studying the half-finished Time Machine.

Bulma set the dishes on the table and exclaimed, "Gohan, why did you get out of bed? You haven't recovered yet. You need at least another week of rest."

Son Gohan turned and smiled. "I feel fine now. All I need is a big meal, and I'll be good as new. Hahaha."

"Honestly, you're becoming more and more like Goku."

"Neither of you ever takes care of yourselves."

Bulma's voice was full of reproach.

"But I really do feel fine. I'm just very, very hungry."

"How long was I unconscious?" Son Gohan asked curiously.

"This is the third day. Now go wash your hands. We can eat once you're done," Bulma said.

"No wonder I'm so hungry. That means I haven't eaten in at least three or four days," Son Gohan murmured. He rubbed his stomach, then went to wash his hands.

Once they had all washed their hands and sat down, they began to eat.

As they ate, Trunks kept glancing at Son Gohan. After a long, anxious hesitation, he finally spoke.

"Gohan, that day, I thought you were dead. I couldn't sense you or feel a heartbeat, and your body had gone cold. That's why... why I buried you. I'm sorry."

"Yes, Gohan. What exactly happened?" Bulma asked.

Son Gohan looked at Trunks, then at Bulma, and stuffed a whole large bread roll into his mouth like a man who hadn't eaten in years.

Only after swallowing it did he answer seriously. "You know how tough Saiyans are. Though I really wasn't much different from dead at the time. If my will had been even a little weaker, I would have died for real. But Android 17 and Android 18 are still out there, so I fought my way back."

"Trunks, we can't go down that easily. If we do, there'll be no warriors left to defend Earth. We need to train hard and destroy those two damned Androids as soon as possible. When I came back the other day, I could tell you'd been slacking off a little."

"Yes! You're right, Gohan!" Trunks nodded emphatically.

That's Gohan for you. He always knows what to say.

It's so inspiring.