The small Half-Saiyan was completely convinced that his teacher hated him.

Oh, he'd always suspected it, with the way she would comment, off the cuff, about rich kids being spoiled and having no concept of reality. She always seemed to be stressed for money and unfortunately, that meant any child (or person for that matter) that happened to have more of it than her was subject to her little rants. It was more than just her targeting him for his money though. She just didn't like his personality. Trunks had no problem believing she would fail him if it wouldn't look suspicious. Today though, her vendetta against him was anything but subtle.

He was convinced. She'd gradually been adjusting how often she called him out or put him on the spot and normally, he really could have cared less. He'd just spout off the right answer, she'd grind her teeth and the day would continue.

Today though, that was not an option.

He couldn't think straight and keeping his eyes focused on her as she prattled on about mathematical equations (his ears had tuned out a long time ago) was requiring far too much energy. A small annoying miner had taken up refuge in his skull and was currently chipping away at his brain, right behind his eyes. Any sunlight or fast movement only seemed to encourage the little monster and his stomach was not helping matters.

He couldn't remember ever feeling this kind of nausea before; Dad always said that Saiyans with stomach upset was a scary thing (okay, he had said a 'dangerous' thing) because of how much they depended on it. Heck, Dad had mentioned that a sick Saiyan was a true rarity and one that usually ended in death. That was a pleasant thought because as much as Trunks tried to deny it, logic eventually had pounded in that he was quite sick.

Trunks had never skipped a meal before. Ever. This morning though, he had. He had felt like it was a necessity to keep going! He had never been so turned off by the smell of food. Now though, despite his stomach having created this issue, he felt drained and weak. Was that what Dad had meant? That Saiyans missing meals could be dangerous? That not being able to keep food down was dangerous? That illness added weakness and because of how their bodies worked, his was now going to kill him? His mind ached trying to sort through it and it took quite a bit of willpower not to panic.

His one true consolation that this was not going to kill him, much as his father's stories and his body's current state told him otherwise, was that he knew Goten and Gohan had been sick at least once before and they were fine. Though, he did remember Gohan had said that being sick for a Saiyan or even a Half-Saiyan was a torturous experience.

He could certainly agree with that!

All he wanted to do was close his eyes and drift off.

After the third time Miss Shibia had emphasized that "you might want to pay attention, Mister Briefs," he opted to give in. Folding his arms, he buried his face into them and let himself drift. Sleep had never felt so good. It eased the pain in his head to an ache and stopped some of the churning in his belly. It was hardly comfortable but it was an improvement. He pondered if Goten was feeling this bad.

He'd spied his friend on the way in and he'd looked worse than he felt and the kid had only managed "Big Brother Gohan is worse." ChiChi must have been distracted and Goku out training when they left because Trunks knew all too well that neither of the Sons would have let their kids go to school looking like that.

Though, Goten said that he and Gohan didn't like to admit when they felt bad so maybe they were better at hiding it than he thought. It must have been something that they'd caught when they were all together last week. Otherwise, what were the chances of all three Half-Saiyans getting sick at once? If it was anything else, there woulda been reports of humans dropping dead because if it was enough to get a Half Saiyan sick, it was enough to kill a human.

Maybe venturing into that old abandoned temple hadn't been the best idea but heck, even Gohan had been interested! It was a given that if Gohan was okay with something, they likely would not get in trouble for it. Though, maybe some of that old dust, mold and who knew what else had been infected with something. It was sure beginning to look like it, from a rational standpoint. Gohan and Goten had seemed nervous by the end and they'd universally decided that this wasn't something they needed to tell their parents. If how he was feeling was any indication though...maybe that hadn't been such a good idea.

What if he had seen his parents that morning? Well, at least if he'd seen his mother, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be here but Mom had left early to go to some conference and Dad always vanished into the gravity room so there's been no one to question him this morning. Grandma was always a bit oblivious. He almost wished Mom had been there because then he could be in his bed at home—

A sharp pain in his neck made him jump up, cursing as the sudden movement had awakened the miner in his head. He hissed through his teeth, grabbed his temples and squeezed, willing the horrible pain and throbbing to cease. The pain in his neck dulled quickly. He would not have normally felt it if he had been more alert. Man, Dad would have hounded on him for that. Lettin' down his guard...

"So glad that you could rejoin us Mister Briefs." God, her voice was grating. "Perhaps you can summarize the equations we just discussed for the class." The ruler she slapped against her hand echoed like a cannon fire. He so wanted to just snag it and snap it in half. He could only imagine his mother's response to that. So, instead, he opted to lock eyes with her, as best he could with his throbbing head.

"You're the teacher, you do it." He snapped. "I'm not the one gettin' paid." He closed his eyes tightly. Yes, it was much better to have your eyes closed.

"Mister Briefs," she spoke firmly, eyes narrowed and voice even more annoying if that were possible. "I have just about had enough of this attitude—"

"Help yourself, there's plenty more." Trunks snarled, eyes snapping open and it took most of his willpower NOT to let them burn green and give her a heart attack. Plus, he swore the room was swaying. Could this lady not take a hint? The desire to turn Super Saiyan if only to scare her was so tempting but according to Gohan, if you didn't feel good, turning Super Saiyan would just make it worse. "I just wanna go home! I don't FEEL good, you crazy lady!" There, that explanation definitely made it NOT whining. He was the son of Vegeta and as such, he did not whine. Though, he really didn't know how thick this woman's head had to be to not see the obvious.

Eye twitching, the teacher resisted the urge to yank him up by the arm. If she had thought she would have been able to get away with it, she would have. However, she could not afford to have the wrath of the mother of Capsule Corp charging down on her. Despite her emotions, she had to remain professional and despite how much this boy SO needed a good swat, she instead hardened her voice. "Well, you are not going to disrupt my class-"

"So call my mom!" Trunks hissed. Disrupt her class? She was doing all the disrupting! All he'd said was that he didn't feel good! Well, okay, maybe he got a little snippy but she started it! He tried, once more, to get through to her thick skull. "Trust me, I don't want to be here either. I told ya I don't feel good!"

"I have a hard time believing that but this disrespect will not be tolerated." She pointed to the wall "Go take a seat,"

"Fine, long as I don't hafta hear you flap your gums anymore—" Trunks stood, dragged his way to the wall and sat down. Yes, it was quite obvious this woman hated him. Wasn't a teacher supposed to help when their kids didn't feel good instead of accusing them of lying? He was sure it was because he was rich. Or because he was Briefs. Or because he didn't take her stupid yapping.

He doubted Goten or Gohan had this problem...

—

Biting her lower lip, Videl refused to relent. "You sure you're okay, Gohan?" Her tone betrayed worry even if she had to keep her voice to a whisper. Daughter of Mister Satan or not, their professor would not tolerate side talking. However, the young man had been off all morning. Heck, Sharpner had elbowed him in the ribs when he started to drift off. That in itself was worthy of a "what the hell?!" Gohan did not sleep during class. Ever.

The Half Saiyan gave her what he hoped was a convincing smile. It wasn't. "Honest, I'm alright, Videl. Little tired, maybe." That was hardly it but it wouldn't do to have her or his friends worried too! There was nothing to be done over feeling ill except to power on through it. He could handle the nausea, even if it was so intense that he felt like he had to clench his throat muscles to keep everything down. He could handle the dizziness even if that just made the nausea worse and he was sure he walked like a drunkard. At least with all the crowds in the hallways, it was not easily noticed, what with everyone bustling back and forth.

She folded her arms "No, you're not. Your accent is slipping." She'd learned after meeting the teen's family that both Mr and Mrs Son had a strong country accent though Mrs Son's was much more pronounced. Gohan had said both he and his brother had been trained to speak properly, in hopes of it getting them career advancement, but Videl had also learned if they were feeling out of sorts, very nervous or frightened or extremely relaxed, their natural speaking tone would bleed through.

Right now, Gohan's "t"s were turning hard, his "g"s were dropping and his words were starting to merge.

Normally, she loved to hear it(it was a surprising turn-on for her) but for Gohan to let that lapse at school...well, that never happened.

As for Gohan, he tried to refocus. If his accent was coming out, he needed to push more energy into paying attention. No point in slacking off. Re-focus! He coached himself. Mind on the moment! After all, he got teased enough just for his intelligence. He didn't need to add his country origin to a list of things that made him stick out and made everyone take note. Plus, he knew his mother wanted them to come across as educated and well-mannered and according to her, their mountain boy accent did the opposite. Normally, it didn't take this much strength to keep his natural tone at bay but right now...

It was hard though. So hard!

Dad had gone out this morning to train before he had to do any farming and Mom had been doing wash after breakfast. As such, especially with them just now returning to school after Majin Buu (and heck, Goten starting at all!) it hardly seemed right to ask to stay home, even if his body was in agony. Goten, despite his young age, had agreed. One less thing for their parents to worry about! They were probably at fault for it anyway. Besides, they could handle a little headache or dizziness. Gohan had just had them both take Nimbus instead of flying that morning.

Being Half Saiyan, Gohan and his brother rarely got sick. Gohan remembered once when he was 3, once when he was 8 and once in the Time Chamber. Goten had gotten a fever as a baby and once when he was five. That was it. Vegeta has said that Saiyan immune systems were ludicrously efficient. It certainly seemed to be the case.

On the downside though, when they did get sick, they got SICK. As it was, Gohan knew he could not stomach a thing and for a Saiyan, that was bad. He'd managed to shovel down a measly three portions this morning. Mom likely would have noticed as Goten was a mirror image but with how late everyone had been running—he and Goten had overslept almost an hour before ChiChi realized and woke them up—it hadn't been addressed readily and they'd run out the door before many inquiries could be made.

"Miss Videl, if we could have quiet, please!"

The sharp tongue of his professor brought him back to the present quickly. Miss Hamilton while quite pleasant normally did have her pet peeves and side talking was one of them. The woman set her eyes on Gohan, "Mr. Son, if you could pick up where I stopped please." Much as she was fond of both Gohan, Videl, Erasa, she was also not one to play favorites. If they had enough time to gossip, they had enough time to participate. "Loud and clear, please."

Gohan froze. He abruptly realized he had been so distracted that he didn't even know what book they were using, let alone where they were! The faint flush started in his cheeks and the longer he was silent, the more the snickering around him grew and that just made his head throb more and his stomach twist like an ocean wave. "M-miss Hamilton, I'm sorry, I'm...not sure where we are."

Folding her arms, she responded "I thought as much. It would do you well to pay more..." she stopped, abruptly, eyed the boy a little more critically. "Gohan, are you alright?" She set her book down and advanced up the stairs towards the collection of teens. "I can see you sweating from down there."

"Fine," Gohan responded, though he was seriously considering admitting otherwise. It was taking all his energy just to keep his stomach at bay! "Honest, 'm fine." He definitely heard himself drop the "I" on his "I'm" and judging by the looks around him, everyone else noticed too! "'M sorry I was'sit payin' 'tention Miss Hamilton."

Oh God...

Dead silence a long moment then it was a girl named Carsa that burst out laughing. It proved contagious and pretty soon, the entire room was full of guffaws. "Nerd-Boy's a hick!" One of them squeaked.

Oh God! Face burning red like a tomato, he covered his eyes. Little slips of his accent had happened before but that was full blown country boy coming out! This was the last thing he needed today. Slamming his head, though lightly (he could hardly afford to replace one) into his desk, he murmured under his breath, "I wanna go home..."

—

"You don't feel good, huh, Goten?"

The small half Saiyan turned from his lunch, which he had only been picking at to be frank, and addressed the young boy in his class, Nomino, who'd made the inquiry. He couldn't exactly say they were friends but he seemed nice enough. He'd shared his lunch with him the other day so that meant he was a great potential friend! You only shared food with people you cared about!

"Not really," Goten admitted. "You want some of my lunch? 'M not gonna eat it but it'd be sad if I hadda throw it away." He pushed the containers over and Nomino accepted but said with innocent interest. Made sense. Goten never gave away his food, mainly because he always needed every speck. However, today, he just wasn't feeling it but it was a crime to throw away Mom's food, according to Daddy.

"You're talking funny, Goten. Kinda like farmers do on TV." Nomino took a bite of the rice dish Goten had. Man, Goten's mama could cook! Maybe it would be fun to go visit him some time. He'd never seen the countryside so it might be fun. His parents were always telling him to make friends so maybe Goten's family would be a fun place to visit!

Goten pouted "Well, Daddy IS a farmer. Mommy and Daddy talk like this all the time." He really didn't want to go into it. He was the son of country folk and so if he wasn't deliberately trying to be proper, he sounded like one. Nothin' wrong with that!

"I mean, you usually talk kinda proper" Nomino smirked "I like it better when you talk this way. You sound more fun." He dropped his smile when Goten lay his head down on the desk. "Why don't you ask Miss Shiyako If she'll call your mom or dad? They'd come pick you up if you don't feel good." Thinking a minute, he said "Or I betcha they'd call your brother out of school if they had to!"

Goten knew they would. He desperately wanted to ask. However, that would just mean MORE work for his parents. Daddy and Mommy always fussed (well, Big Brother said Daddy fussed; he'd not experienced it yet) like a mother hen when he or Gohan were sick. Daddy still had to handle the fields and Gohan was sick too and if they knew he was sick, they'd find out Gohan was sick so there'd be so much work lost and Mommy would get stressed and—

"I'll be okay," Goten forced a smile. His head screamed in protest but all he had to remember was that they had a long weekend coming up. He could rest then. Just remember that!

Nomino frowned. He didn't understand. Goten obviously didn't feel good. Why didn't he want his parents to come get him? Resting in your bed was a ton better than being at school! Plus, he would bet Mrs. Son could make awesome sick food!

While the young boy did not know Goten too well just yet, he was always nice (if a little slow on some projects which was irritating if they were in groups) and it hurt to watch him be in so much pain. He watched him try and maintain but the black haired boy looked so utterly miserable, he was getting sympathy pains!

"Just few mo' hours," Goten coached himself. "Just few mo..."

—-

He would have normally ignored that horrifically bothersome ringing. After all, when he was in the Gravity Room, he liked to cast all other things out. While it was not as satisfying as a good spar with Kakarot or even any of the individuals that possessed Saiyan blood, it was better than nothing. That clown was tied to his field right now, in no small part, because of his wife's insistence. While Vegeta may have teased the other full blooded Saiyan about it, he also knew all too well the persuasion of the human female. It _was_ one reason they had both been drawn to such fiery wives.

Growling lightly, he paused in his routine and slammed his fist into the acceptance panel on the wall before going back to his punches. Of all the days for Bulma to be gone. He had other things to do than deal with phone calls. He would likely just have to tell them that his wife would return their call later. Couldn't an answering service or their damned secretary handle that?

"Excuse me, Mister Briefs?"

Growling, the Saiyan directed his attention to the viewscreen. It took him a minute to recognize that blasted woman that was in charge of educating his son. Truthfully, he always found her to be a bit of an idiot but it had pleased his woman so he didn't intervene. As it was, he never had to become involved. Until now, it seemed. What did this fat harpy want?

"What do you want?" He snapped, diverting his attention back to his training. "Are you not supposed to be educating my brat?"

"That is the reason I am calling, Mister Briefs," the woman went on.

"So, out with it." Vegeta interrupted. Why did everyone on this planet insist on batting around the bush instead of being blunt and direct. "What about my brat?"

Oh, there was a slight twang to her tone now, "I must insist you come and pick him up. He is being completely disrespectful and disruptive and I cannot continue teaching with him here."

Stopping slightly, Vegeta eyed her "You cannot handle an eight year old boy?"

"Your son is of...special caliber." She finally settled on. Oh, she had several things she would have liked to call him but not to his father. It was easy enough to see the resemblance, save the hair color.

"Well, of course he is," Vegeta allowed, with a small hint of pride "With his pedigree." Frustrated again at the interruption, he inquired "Can you not manage him until the end of the school day, woman? I have things to do."

Oh, she looked agitated now. "Mister Briefs-"

"Vegeta," he finally corrected her, though with her brain, he doubted she'd remember it.

"Mister Vegeta," she began again through clenched teeth "Since your wife is unavailable, I must insist you come and pick up Trunks. If you cannot, we will have to contact the authorities on abandonment..."

Oh, his eyes flashed at her and for a moment, the faint aqua lit up "Is that a threat?" Was this stupid female seriously saying they would remove his son? "Think carefully before you answer."

After an awkward silence, she replied "It is our policy, Mister Vegeta. Again, I insist you come remove your disruptive child."

Groaning and slamming his hand into the wall, he shut off the machine "If it will get you to leave me be, fine, woman. Tell the brat he best prepare himself. He'll know what that means."

"Very good," came the satisfied answer.

—

Trunks wanted to punch her out. He really did. Oh, it would have been SO easy too! Would almost be worth the backlash.

Oh, how smug she was when she trotted over and announced his father was coming. "I will insist on having a word with him about your behavior." She cooed in that fake-sweet tone.

"Good luck." He remarked. His father wouldn't even give her the time of day. It was a miracle that he'd agreed to come in the first place. Trunks would be lying to himself if he had said he wasn't nervous. His father would have been doing his morning training, which meant he had to leave the gravity room and "interact with these damned fools" so he would be angry.

Swell. Just what he needed right now. His father never got involved with his schooling so to force him into it was a horrible idea! He's probably throw him in the gravity room for hours...if he didn't physically punish him first.

Yeah, that had happened before and no, he did not care to revisit it.

All the same, he managed a light smile when he heard the door slam open, even if the sound made his head hurt more. The shocked yelp from the room was ridiculously satisfying. He heard his teacher rush over but he was in no hurry to open his eyes.

"Mister Vegeta.." Yep, her voice was quaking. Good! Let her be powerless for a bit. Bitch...

"Where's my brat?" came that familiar thundering tone.

—-

Vegeta was fully ready to lay into his son right there but then as he took a step into the room, ignoring the other sniveling brats, his sharp nose caught it. The scent of elevated sweat production, the smell of lack of ATP in blood, the smell of heightened body temperature. His eyes swirled the room before settling on his son, laying against the wall. The boy's hair was plastered to his forehead, his face pale and his eyes closed.

"Trunks. Look at me, boy." There was no room for argument in that tone and this time, there was an urgency he'd never expressed before.

Gradually, the child opened his eyes and those bright blues were clouded and glassy. Child could probably see fine but there was no denying the misery in that gaze.

It was an odd feeling that settled over Vegeta's heart. He remembered seeing Saiyan children his age with that look one day and then seeing their bodies tossed onto a fire less a week later when their immune systems proved far too insufficient to expel it. Contrary to popular belief, sickness was not considered weakness among Saiyans. It was considered dangerous.

The possibility of having to burn his only child passed his consciousness, though only briefly. No, it was an unacceptable outcome! They would work quickly and dispose of this molecular invader! It was from Earth so surely they could handle it! Time was of utmost importance!

His strides increased and he made his way to his child, ignoring the large woman's yapping and attempts to gain his attention. Trunks went to stand, as best he could with the room in a permanent tilt-a-whirl and the Saiyan Prince had to allow a half smirk at his determination.

When Vegeta grasped the swaying boy's arm, he pulled him up and continued pulling until he settled the boy in his arms, shifting to support his weight as minimal as it was.

Trunks' eyes went huge for a moment but he was still. Taking advantage of it, the Saiyan prince pressed his forehead against his son's, finding it to be blazing hot. "Foolish cub." He stated, ignoring that he had never referred to Trunks by the Saiyan term for child before. Maybe that had something to do with his son's stunned expression. In any event, it just lasted a moment

Instead, he diverted his attention to the yelping female, still going on about something and interrupted "Are you as blind as you are stupid, woman?"

Gasps about the class but Trunks gave a small smile and lay his head on his father's shoulder. Despite obviously having been training the skin felt cool on his face and there was something about his scent that soothed some of his aches. Plus, since when did his father carry him?! He was going to take full advantage!

"M-mister Vegeta—" The teacher began but the Saiyan interrupted her.

"I can SMELL the illness on him!" Vegeta took a step closer to her. "I should have been informed immediately upon his arrival, you insolent cow!" He tightened his grip on his son subconsciously "Illness is NOT to be trifled with and you have cost us precious, potentially vital, time!" He spat, hitting her directly in the face "If you cannot tell illness from behavior, you have no business teaching my heir!"

Turning on his heels, Vegeta scooped up his son's backpack with his free hand, before heading for the door. Trunks glanced over his father's shoulder at the stunned woman and lifted the middle finger on both his hands to her.

Scoffing, she mumbled to herself, as she took a tissue to clean her face. "He obviously takes after his father."

Vegeta pauses just briefly, gave the woman a bird of his own and remarked "Damn right, he does."