This is a little story I wrote after my seven year old cousin asked me if her brain is sick because she likes other girls. She thought she was sick because she had heard her older brother talking badly about a boy at his school who just came out. I wanted to show people that often, children have a hard time understanding why they're made fun of for being different and that they are scared to accept themselves because of our society. This is pretty much the conversation we had but now it's between eight year old Trunks and his mother, Bulma. Please enjoy and keep in mind that even the slightest little negative remark about something can stick in a child's memory forever and affect how they deal with things later on in life.

There was a strange noise filling the halls of the Capsule Corps. Mansion. Something Bulma hadn't heard in a long time.

Silence.

She tip toed through the corridors making her way to the kitchen in the dead of night, hoping not to wake anyone, though she doubted that even smashing pots and pans together would ever wake up her grouchy Saiyan Prince. She held her robe tighter to herself as she maneuvered in the darkness. When she finally reached the kitchen, she was surprised to see someone already there.

The dark form was small and seemed to be having trouble reaching the cups in the cabinet. Bulma flicked on the lights and smiled at her son as he simply stared at her with wide eyes. She rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, smiling at him. "You know you can fly, right?"

Trunks giggled at his mother as he floated up to the top shelf and grabbed a plastic cup. He then proceeded to fill it up with water from the tap, still hovering above the ground.

"Well, I was gonna at first but then I remembered you don't like it when I fly in the house." He smiled up at her with his big blue eyes and she couldn't help but be flooded with happiness.

"That's only when you're flying for no reason, honey." They both giggled and she simply watched as her son chugged down the cold water and burped.

Another smile graced her lips, but was quickly wiped away at the sight of a serious face from her son.

"What's wrong, Trunks?" He looked down at the cup in his hands as though he was deep in thought and clutched it tighter in his fingers. He bit his lip and his eyebrows contorted as though he were in pain. Bulma knelt to the floor and pulled him close to her.

"Mommy… am I sick?" She held him at arm's length and looked into his innocent eyes. She lifted her left hand off of his shoulder and placed it on his forehead. It was warm to the touch but that was just his normal body heat. She knitted her eyebrows together.

"You don't seem to have a temperature. Does your tummy hurt?"

"No not sick like that."

She stood up but never let go of him. She searched his eyes for any clue as to what he was talking about, but she found none. Trunks looked down at the cup that was still in his hands and his eyes looked so tired and lost. Bulma was hurt to see her son like this. He never looked up from his cup as he asked,

"Am I sick in the head?"

She was utterly surprised. Sick in the head? Why would he think that? She looked deep in his sad eyes and saw tears glide down his cheeks.

"Trunks… why do you think that?" She choked a bit on her words. Her eyes began to water and pour over the rims and now she too, was crying. Trunks looked up at his mother and sniffled. He dropped his cup and floated up and wiped away her tears and held her face in his small hands.

"I'm sorry mommy. I didn't want to make you sad." Bulma shook her head and took his hands in hers.

"You didn't make me sad, sweetheart, I'm just a little confused. Why do you think you're sick?" He was quiet for a little while, kicking around the cup that was on the ground at his feet.

"Daddy said people like me are sick in the head."

Bulma changed almost immediately. Her tears stopped and she gritted her teeth. Her eyes filled with anger and she balled up her fists as she let go of her son.

"And why would daddy say that? Is it because you don't train as hard as he wants you to? Ugh! I swear I'm going to kick his ass for this!"

"No no! It's not because of that!" She was confused again. Trunks twiddled his fingers and gulped before speaking again.

"Daddy says that boys who like other boys are sick in the head."

Speechless.

Bulma was absolutely speechless.

"Boys… who like other boys?" Trunks looked up at his mom with sad eyes.

Bulma giggled a bit.

"That's what you were so worked up about? Liking boys?" Trunks looked at his mother, confused.

"But daddy said-"

"-Forget what daddy said. He's just a muscle headed monkey!" He smiled and jumped up locking his arms around his mother's neck.

"So, it's not bad that I like other boys?" He asked, smiling brightly.

"Of course not! And there's a name for it Trunks. You're a homosexual."

"… Homopopsicle? "

"No, homosexual. But I suppose that's a bit of a big word for an eight year old. In other terms, you're gay."

"I'm gay!" Trunks yelled and smiled, throwing his arms up, floating away from his mother.

"Yes. And if your dad gives you any trouble about it, tell him to come and talk to me. I'll make sure he supports you."

"Is Goten gay too?" Bulma was quiet for a moment.

"Is he the boy you like?" Trunks blushed and twiddled his fingers again.

"Yeah…"

"Well, he might be, you never know. But not everyone comes out quite as young as you."

"Comes out?"

"We'll go over terms in the morning. Right now, let's go back to bed." She smiled up at her son who was still floating above her.

"And by the way, if Goten and I have kissed before, does that mean he's gay?"

"...What?"

And that's my story. I'm going to save their kiss and make another story out of it later. Thanks for reading! Please R&R!