A/N: This is meant to focus on the close friendship between Pan and Trunks (one of my favorite aspects of the series), though it can be seen as romance if you Pan/Trunks shippers would rather.
Taking place during the Black-Star Dragon Saga, this spans from three months after Goku and Pan went off together to the day they come back. However, as I've only just begun the Dragon Saga (I've watched it before, but that was when it was originally on Toonami years ago), I don't quite remember how the Earth or the Saiyans were affected during this time...so I made it up.
Though this does take place in the GT universe, there are elements of the tail-end of Z thrown in as well (considering that's when Pan shows up).
Ages (According to the original Japanese timeline):
Pan: 11-12
Trunks: 24-25
Notifications:
Italics: Memories
Preoccupation
"Mr. Briefs, sir?"
The twenty-four-year-old jumps as he is knocked from his thoughts, narrowly avoiding a painful connection with the floor. He catches the pen he'd thrown in the air, fixes his skewed glasses, and haphazardly addresses the employee.
"M-my apologies. Yes?"
Another man, older than Trunks and the other man combined, clears his throat. Attention turns to him.
"Sir, if I might speak freely?"
"Of course, Satoshi."
"If you're too distracted to get past even the opening statements, perhaps we should reschedule?"
"Th-that won't be necessary," the young President stutters, blushing at having been caught as all that. "Forgive me. I've had a lot going on lately, with my family especially."
"You're sure you're all right?" Satoshi prompts for the sake of finality, narrowing his eyes.
"I am," Trunks assures. A small smile passes between the two—the older gentleman has been one of the Briefs' closest allies since the adolescent began working at the company years ago.
The man who'd first broken Trunks from his stupor takes this cue to begin again.
This time, Trunks does his best to pay attention. And succeeds…at least, for the most part.
Getting to his office as quickly as he can without arousing suspicion, Trunks is sure to hang a 'do not disturb' sign on his door before closing it behind him and leaning back against it with a heavy sigh.
That meeting was one of the worst of his life. Even after his blunder he hadn't been able to pay complete attention, and while confessedly that was nothing new lately he's found himself to be even more mentally drained than usual.
Raking a hand through his hair, he slumps to the floor with knees pulled to his chest.
Admittedly, it's always been hard to keep his mind (and his feet) firmly planted in his work, but it's even more difficult now to know he has a genuine reason to be capricious.
Pan's been gone for three months now, and even though he trusts Goku more than anyone else (especially when it comes to the life of his granddaughter), he can't help but worry even still.
The eleven-year-old is so headstrong, so feisty, so easily riled… Truly, sometimes he finds himself wondering how she's even made it to this tender age.
And despite the age difference of so many years, nothing changes the fact that she's his best friend. It's in the job description to watch each other's back, and from here, left behind…he feels like he's shirking that sacred duty.
But in thinking this he feels torn.
He's glad he's here, just in case something happens and he's needed. He wants to protect everyone who's still here, to do what he can in the stead of those who've left them, to be a part of the family and friends that are rooting for them and eagerly awaiting their return.
But at the same time, he wants to be with them, wants to make sure they stay safe while risking their lives to save the planet (disgustingly ironic, no?). He wants to protect them, to be there for them, to ensure that they will return largely unscathed.
More than anything, though, he just wants them to know that he loves them, above any and all else, as he does the rest of their group of interweaving individual lives.
He doesn't think he'll be able to bear it if Goku dies again, if anything at all happens to Pan while he isn't around to protect her.
But he knows both can and most certainly will—the latter had and the former nearly, more times than he will ever care to count—and that's what scares him the most.
He can't lose either of them. He loves them much too much for that.
Sometimes, Trunks swears Dende enjoys toying with him.
For no more than five months later, Trunks is on his way home when, completely by accident, he snaps from his daydream to find himself flying over Pan's school.
If it didn't pain him so much, it could be funny, the fact that he's really so preoccupied that he can't control his own nostalgic impulses.
The frown on his face deepens as his blue eyes darken. This only serves to make him miss her more.
He used to walk Pan home from school whenever he could get away from work (meaning sneak out the window as he was prone to doing).
He remembers the last time he did that, about a month before the mess with the Negative Black-Star Dragon Balls started…
"Hey, Trunks!" she calls from down below, waving at him with a wide smile on her face.
He reciprocates both gestures from the air and comes to land in front of her, only to have her immediately lunge at him and wrap her arms around his waist in a tight hug.
"Hey, Pan," he greets softly, returning the hug as he loops one arm around her shoulders and his other hand rests on the back of her bandana-clad head.
"I haven't seen you in ages!" she complains, pulling out of the hug and taking his hand as they begin their walk. Pan fixes him with a sympathetic smile. "Are things really that bad at Capsule?"
He sighs, stuffing one hand in his shorts pocket. Peering closer now, Pan notices how tired he looks...
"We're upgrading a good portion of our research facilities, we're engaging in several meetings a day with competitive investors, paperwork's been piling up, and…" he sighs again, running a hand through his lavender hair; Pan squeezes his hand in attempt to offer comfort, "…it's just…a lot of work…"
The young girl hums solemnly at his side, letting her head hang in thought. A comfortable, welcome silence settles between them, and Trunks revels in it. He hasn't gotten much peace at work lately.
But this small moment of tranquility is shattered when Pan tugs at his hand to get him to stop. Glancing down at her curiously, he doesn't have to wait long for the girl to lift her head, for her sparkling brown eyes to draw him in as always.
"It'll be all right!" she trills encouragingly, and her proud, confident expression only heightens as she winks. "You can handle anything, Trunks, I've seen it! Not only are you one of the strongest Saiyans I know, but you're also my best friend!" She flashes a thumbs up. "Besides, you're the President! You've worked so hard to get where you are that there's no way you can give up now!" She smirks, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "And if you do, you'll answer to me!"
It is all Trunks can do to keep his jaw off the ground.
Pan, who's been his best friend since they were just children, has grown from a Herculean child to become this spirited, loving young woman of a fighter who won't let anything or anyone stand in her way.
It's amusing, to say the least, the fact that their respective roles of advisor and advisee have been reversed here. Yet for all of his pondering, somehow it doesn't seem so out of place at all. The child has always been incredibly wise for her age.
His face melts into a warm smile, and he reaches out to squeeze her shoulder gratefully.
"Thanks, Pan," she smiles and places one of her small hands on top of the one of his on her shoulder; then, without warning, his lips take on a mischievousness all their own, "but I still deserve payback!"
He gives her a gentle cuff upside the head, escaping to the skies just in time to avoid a harsh blow in retaliation.
"That's the thanks I get for comforting you?" she hollers, laughing brightly as she shakes a fist toward the sky. She shoots after his chuckling form. "I'm gonna get you, Briefs!"
Two more months pass, and they've been gone for a total of ten months.
And even though the world is this close to blowing up, he can't bring himself to focus on that.
The only thing he knows is that they're not back yet, is what he can gather from the brief messages Giru sends every once in a while ('Giru, Pan, and Goku fine' or 'Three Dragon Balls in possession,' etc.), is that even though it's not taking any longer than last time it still feels like an eternity.
He's picking his way through the crowded streets today, having closed down Capsule Corp. two weeks before in view of the looming danger. Trunks finds it strange at first that so many haven't left yet, but as he subconsciously examines them the reason seems to be because they've procrastinated on stocking up on supplies.
A harried man jostles Trunks harshly as he rushes by, and though he throws an apology over his shoulder Trunks barely hears him.
For there in front of him is Mr. Satan's place, where Pan goes to take out her aggression, and the beating of his heart turns painful.
This is the one place that symbolizes all that Pan is, all she ever was and ever will be, and Trunks can't help but loathe and love it all at once.
His little fighter of a best friend has always been that way, cutting through all of her opponents like they're nothing, especially when she's angry. He can't remember a match she didn't win, whether official or unofficial—a certain free-match with Goten years ago comes to mind.
He chances a small smile, though, as he recalls one of the rare times Pan lost. For some reason, he remembers that particular day well...
"You really proved yourself today, Pan!" Trunks praises, smiling down at the little girl wearing her prized Turtle School uniform. "You defeated one of Mr. Satan's strongest pupils…" he smirks proudly, "…besides you, of course."
And truly, the unofficial tournament had gone well. Pan had beaten every one of her opponents, all the way till the end when she'd trumped the Satan Dojo third-in-command (she being fourth and Mr. Satan himself being first).
But that's when things had taken a turn for the worse. The second-in-command had been unnaturally strong, had managed to knock Pan out of the ring with a casual flick of his finger.
Yet, considering the circumstances, the three-year-old seemed to take the defeat rather well, better than expected, in fact.
After all, when one takes into account that she's never lost before…
Suddenly, Pan stops dead in her tracks, and Trunks halts alongside her. Her head is downcast; her grip on his hand has slackened.
Growing concerned, the boy bends down on one knee and dips his head to try to see her eyes. He can see nothing beyond her boyish hair, and so instead he reaches forward to caress her cheek with gentle fingers.
"Pan…?" he whispers anxiously, startled when a warm liquid wets his fingers. The sole thing that gives him even the slightest semblance of comfort is the knowledge that it's not blood (he knows by the lack of a choking smell and of the instinctive panic that always accompanies it). "What is it?"
Though something tells him he already knows the answer.
Suppressed sobs wrack her tiny body, and she gasps and chokes with the effort of keeping it all inside. The tears have entirely coated Trunks' hand by now, though their warmth is somehow colder than anything else.
Trunks can feel his heart breaking inside, and he reaches out to take her into his strong young arms. Clutching her close to him, she wraps her small arms around his neck and cries with her head buried in his shoulder.
In this instance there is nothing to stop the sixteen-year-old from holding her all the tighter.
He can't bring a single part of himself to think any worse of her for this. How could he? She's just a little girl, and she's never had to deal with the pain and frustration of losing a match before…and to lose in one move, too…
Besides, he's been there, too. He's been beaten by Gohan, Goten, Goku, and his own Father loads of times, but each defeat only makes him more determined to get stronger. And if he knows Pan like he thinks he does, he has faith she'll come out the same way.
They stay in this position for several minutes more, neither minding in the least. For Pan is in need of comfort at this pressing time in her young life; for as her best friend, Trunks can't in good conscience allow himself to leave her until she's all right again.
When she finally calms down enough so that only the smallest sniffles escape every once in a while, she pulls out of his warmth and wipes one eye, willingly letting him tend to the other.
Her smile is bright by now, her fierce-sweet brown eyes all aglow, and Trunks can't hold in his joy at simply bearing witness to such a heartwarming sight.
"Thanks, Trunks," she says, and the older boy reaches out to ruffle her hair.
"Don't mention it, Pan," he returns. Suddenly, he perks up and snaps his fingers. "Hey, there're still a few hours before dinner! How about some ice cream?" He winks. "My treat!"
Her face looks as if it's about to split in half as she cheers loudly, her excitement summed up in an enthusiastic fist-pump. Throwing her arms around Trunks' neck and kissing him on the cheek, she tugs wildly at his hand to get him up and moving.
He chuckles.
Such a sucker for ice cream is she.
And before he knows it, it's a month and a half later.
Most of the Earth has given in to the chaos; most everyone has resigned themselves to their fate.
But not the Saiyans. Not Trunks.
The last message received from Giru (yesterday, the fifteenth of the eleventh month) said the trio had collected six of the Black-Star Dragon Balls and were hot on the trail of the last.
This breathed new hope into the palpitating breasts of the two families and their friends. It meant that both Goku and Pan were all right, that things were going smoothly for the most part, that if things continued on such a path everything would (have to) turn out all right within the next two weeks.
Trunks is one of those most relieved, one of the most elated. He's so glad to know they're all right, to know they'll be home soon, to know this world and its inhabitant are not forsaken after all. This is the best gift he could have received, and all of his family's noticed the change in him.
Over the last year, his Father's been trying to keep him from dwelling on 'Kakarot' and his 'clone-in-girl's-clothing' in his own way: with training. And while he feels himself getting stronger and he's entirely focused during their sparring sessions, it doesn't help too much.
His Mother, too, has been trying to help by making him channel his restless energy into getting some work done. And while it's true he's been getting more work done in the last few months, it's still not enough.
Bulla, too, has been doing her best to help…even if her methods do seem a little unorthodox. She's convinced taking him shopping and making buy new clothes will help keep his mind off of the matter at hand ("It helps me" is her reasoning). And while he does appreciate having a shopping mall's worth of new clothes in his closet, he can't stop himself from missing them, missing Pan.
But now that this shred of hope's come through, now that he has proof that both Goku and Pan are all right and will soon be home with the world's salvation in hand, his devotion only intensifies.
He's happier now than he's been since they left, though only his family, the Sons, and their closest friends can attest to that. Granted, he's done his best to act normally around them, but considering they're all feeling the same unease, it is easiest for them to decipher.
He keeps his eyes on the sky these days, keeps a portable message-transmission system on him at all times. He wants to be the first to know when they arrive, the first to meet them—he wants to be the first to throttle then hug them both for worrying him so.
He wants to be there for them when they get back, whether they're successful in retrieving the seventh Black-Star Dragon Ball from the deadliest Dragon or not (though he knows without a doubt they will be).
He owes them that much and more.
On that blessed day—the first day of the last week of their lives—they return at last.
Trunks is watching the sky as always, is waiting with one hand on his phone and the other on his message-transmission device, when his eyes are drawn to two distinct flashes of bright red and deep blue.
He squints to get a closer look, though he already knows what he'll find. His attention is diverted only when his hand-held beeps and produces a message. Grabbing it, he reads it over slower than he's ever read anything in his life, and he swears his heart's been reborn.
Miss me?
A/N: This is my first Dragon Ball story I've ever written, so sorry if I messed up anything! Also, I was very tired when I wrote this, too, so if there's anything I need to fix, please tell me! Thank you!
I know Pan is actually five at the end of Z, but I wanted to show that they were really good friends even before that...if that makes any sense. XD And as for 'Negative Black-Star Dragon Balls,' I didn't know what to call them... Anybody know?
I hope this didn't end too abruptly; it seemed like a good, decisive spot. The message is from Pan, as dictated to Giru. What's more, if I remember right (one of the few things I do remember), the return home isn't awesome; rather, it's pretty ugly. So...in my mind, it's the calm before the storm, okay? XD
Thanks for reading, as always!