Metaphysical
By: CreamPuff913

"Any more of this and I’ll have to get a cane!" she laughed, releasing his arm. Quickly she bent over to pick up the groceries she had dropped. His hand on her shoulder stopped her, pulling her back up.

"No, Kaasan," he said with a tone of seriousness. "Let me."

"Trunks, you think I can’t take care of a few cans and boxes? I’m fine, I just slipped!" she said, but let her son take the foods from the floor.

They walked in the door, and Trunks set the plastic bags on the counter with a sigh. "I’m really worried about you, Kaasan."

"What for? I know, I know, I’m getting old, but I can still walk, can’t I?" She put her hands on her hips defiantly.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "We’ll see. I’d hate to see you fall down somewhere when I’m not around."

"Don’t worry. I’ll be careful," Bulma smiled, walking over to kiss him on the cheek. Then she left the room, doubtlessly off to her lab. Trunks sighed again and began to put away the groceries.

He loved her so much, and to see her suffering the symptoms of old age was so painful. He was in his mid-thirties now, but it seemed his appearance hadn’t changed the slightest bit since his trip in time.

Trunks had gotten used to the sadness, the remorse he felt whenever he thought back on that time in his life. When he had been among friends, and seen his father. At times in tortured dreams, he awoke with a determination to go see them again, just for a few moments, but always stopped himself before he could activate the time machine. He repeatedly told himself that this would be selfish, and endanger their lives as well as his and his mother’s.

How he wished he could go see them, see how his younger counterpart was growing up, with both parents and a group of caring friends. He wondered what it was like living a lifetime in a world of peace, so unlike his shattered reality now. Earth had recovered from the Jinzoningen and Cell, but never again would it be the world his mother and Goku grew up in.

Earth was in his care now. Capsule Corporation still dominated what little industry had been left, and he was President of the monopoly. The government was rebuilding itself, tottering unsteadily under threats of revolt and depletion of resources. Trunks was doing all he could to keep everything intact, but it was not easy for him. He had grown up losing almost everything he had come to treasure, and now everything else depended on him.

Bulma’s Electronic Diary

Entry 179

Damn I haven’t written in this for a while. Never had the time. Well at least now I can make time, since I’m so old I can barely walk! Now I can get back to lab studies, I’m so sick of doing all that negotiation and governmental work. I hope Trunks does the job well.

How long ago was it? Thirty-three years. Kami, time goes by fast. It was those seventeen years of chaos that kept me awake. Now that I sleep in peace, it still feels weird. Those nightmares will stay with me forever, they’ve become a part of me. And still I wonder how long the rest of me will last before I…well, before I kick the bucket, I guess.

Enough about deathly prospects. I should keep a log of my experiments here, having not touched a good invention in such a long time.

I owe something to Trunks, so I’m building a little gadget for him to train with. The gravity room bores him, but in truth I think it drives him insane. He said something to me before about being in some Room of Spirit in his trip to the past, and I didn’t ask further. Anyway, my invention is a two-component base that’s supposed to satisfy both of the raging desires in people (men, at least) of conflict and peace. He just pops on a little machine over his ear, kind of like a scouter, and trains to his heart’s content, depending on what he’s feeling at the time.

Of course I still have a lot of circuitry and examination to do for this, I wouldn’t want to damage his poor brain if I did something wrong. I’m going to get to work on it now.

End Entry.

***

She walked in his office cautiously, not wanting to disturb the President from his intense work. "Trunks-san?"

He did not turn from his monitor screen. "What?"

"I…I was just wondering how you were doing. Do you need any help?" Riona asked, approaching his cluttered desk.

"Uh, no, I’m fine right now," he answered absently, fingers flying across the keyboard. Then he froze, a look of consternation twisting on his face. "Chikusho!"

He slammed a fist on the desk, sending papers flying and his friend cringing. "Dammit! Riona, in fact yes, there is something you can do for me. Those idiots in Manufacturing have a backlog of…oh, who knows how long? I can’t believe no one caught this! Get to that section’s head and…"

"Trunks-san," she put a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down."

Tentatively she massaged the back of his neck, and spoke. "I’ll get to it right away, but please, just make sure you get a good rest. Your mother was never like this when she worked in your position."

He put his head in his hands. "Gomen nasai…I didn’t mean to sound so angry. It’s just been that way…lately, I guess."

Riona smiled, and went off to do his bidding.

Trunks took a deep swig of sake and set back to his computer. Forcing himself to relax, he went back to work. What would I ever do without that girl…

"Tru—unks," Bulma called in a singsong voice.

"Wha—at?" was the muffled reply.

She poked her head in his room, where he lay on his bed reading a magazine. Without a word she took it from him, glancing at the cover. A business magazine.

"Baka. Stop acting so geeky," she said, and tossed it over her shoulder. She smiled at the look on his face.

"It’s late, Kaasan. Go to sleep."

"Hold on Trunks, I’ve got something to show you," she said mysteriously, and pulled out her device. He turned it over in his hands, examining it.

"Hasn’t it been such a long time since I invented something? Well, this one’s for you. You can train with it," she said eagerly, prying it from him. Immediately she began instructing her son on how to use it.

He stopped her. "Wait. Explain to me please, why you’re giving this to me? I have no time to train anymore."

"Oh yes you will, you stupid boy, I’m going to make sure you get that indolent ass of yours away from that computer and into a workout! This little contraption will help you, trust me!"

Indolent ass?

"Kaasan, exactly what am I supposed to do with this?" he said wearily.

"Well, I was just explaining until you so rudely interrupted me," she huffed. Kami, when did Kaasan get so bitchy?

"See, you press this here when you put it on over your ear. When you train, it helps channel emotions into your brain so it’s easier for you. The components are based on the need for battle and the need for calm. So it can adjust to whatever you’re feeling, so you can train better! To put it on the violent setting, which I think you’ll be using a lot more, pull this switch at the same time as twisting this. And the other switch is for the other setting. Got it? Simple, even a baka like you can figure it out!"

Trunks was speechless, still looking over his mother’s newest gizmo. Well, at least it gave her something to do.

"Arigatou, Okaasan. I’ll try it out as soon as I can."

"No problem, son. I just can’t stand you working all your life away at that desk."

"Ahem, excuse me, and what exactly were you doing for the last twenty years of my life?"

"That was unavoidable. The world was in a time of crisis, and I was needed," she said with a bit of unconcealed pride.

"Oh. I guess that makes a difference."

"Well, get yourself to bed now, and I’d like to see you give that thing a whirl tomorrow morning. I’ll make sure Riona takes care of everything. Isn’t she such a nice girl?"

"Yeah, she is," he said a little too quickly.

"What’s that, Trunks?" she eyed him with a grin. "Do we have a little crush on Riona-chan now?"

He kept a stern gaze leveled at her, and she chilled for a second. His face was so painfully like his father’s.

"Okay, okay. I was just teasing. Although I do think you do have something for her…"

"Kaasan, go to bed."

"Goodnight, Trunks," she smiled warmly, and left the room.

***

Bulma awoke with a heavy feeling in her head. She looked at her clock. Only six hours? It seemed like she had been sleeping for half a day. Her throat felt parched, and she got up to get a drink from the kitchen.

Pouring herself a glass of cold water, she leaned against the wall and looked out the window opposite her. It was a clear night, and the Capsule Corporation lawn was washed in moonlight. Just like that night Vejita came to me…so long ago.

A rumble passed through the floor, and Bulma almost lost her balance before she got a hold on a chair. Water sloshed onto the floor tiles out of her glass. Heart pounding from the suddenness of the tremor, she peered out the open space that used to be a window. The gravity room was in use. Of all times, Trunks had decided to train this late…or perhaps this early?

Suddenly, a painful jolt wracked her body. She froze, bent slightly over the chair and gasping.

Crash.

The glass shattered on the floor upon impact. Bulma slowly slid to the ground, her breath coming in heaves.

Her knees met the shards on the floor.

Oh no, oh no! Realization dawned on her. She was having a heart attack!

She couldn’t choke out a scream. Her bodily systems were shutting down at a fatally rapid rate. No, Trunks, I need you!!

Her body slumped, motionless, upon the shattered glass.

***

The gravity room lit up once again as its occupant unleashed a magnified power-up with his new training equipment. A whirlwind of heat trailed behind the speeding form, rattling the panels of the wall. Another ki blast singed the ceiling, and the room shook. Trunks landed on the ground on all fours, panting heavily with every vein close to his skin standing out. Sweat was in condensed patches all over the floor; the extreme gravity strained every drop of moisture off his body.

The device over his ears beeped. Keep going.

Nearly driven to madness, Trunks slammed a fist as hard as he could into the floor. When will anything leave me in peace?!

Slowly he withdrew his hand from the shattered panel and stood up. With horror he noticed that he had obliterated the entire flooring of the gravity room. That one punch had ripped through all of that metal…and most probably caused some damage outside too. Trunks angrily tore the machine off his head and threw it on the ground. He had set the level to its violent setting, trying to work off his frustration. He reminded himself never to use the damn thing again.

Wearily he walked outside the door of the capsule. Then he froze. Nearly all the grass on the lawn was upturned, and the nearest capsule house had several cracks running down the sides. He turned his eyes to the living quarters, and cursed. The windows had shattered.

Quickly he ran inside and switched on the lights. Kaasan’s not going to let me off easily on this one…

The house was quiet. Strange, she isn’t screaming. Trunks walked into the kitchen.

His heart stopped.

***

"Ah, Bulma Briefs," a stentorian voice boomed throughout the hall.

She blinked. Suddenly she could see again, and took a lungful of air. She was alive.

Bulma looked up, startled, to behold an enormous man hunched over a wide wooden desk. She promptly fell backwards on her rear. Where was she? The ceiling towered hundreds of feet above her head, and the presence of the giant made her feel even tinier.

"Who are you?" she questioned shakily, craning her head upwards to look into the man’s face.

"Good for you to ask," the immense voice rumbled. "I am the judge of the dead. Welcome to my realm."

Judge of the dead?

"I…I’m dead?"

"Oh come on, Ms. Briefs, you have brilliance enough to fathom that. I must say your friends were quicker to realize."

Bulma looked at her hand. She moved her fingers. She was still alive.

"Well, let’s get down to business. Hmmm…" Ignoring her bafflement, Enma Daiou flipped through his gigantic book until he reached a certain page. Nodding, he breezed through the paragraphs of her life. "Slightly indecent teenage years, yes. Ingenious scientist, but mostly at leisure…ah, here’s the change in your life. Enter Saiyajin no Ouji."

In wonder Bulma thought over all of this in her mind. She really was in the land of the dead. And she was receiving her judgment.

A grave expression crossed Enma Daiou’s broad face. "You’ve withstood many tragic events…learning to be a mother, finally putting your abilities to use in saving what was left of the world…hmm, overall a good existence. Very well, you may enter Heaven, Bulma Briefs."

And then, in a blink of an eye, the vast hall and the adjudicator of the dead disappeared, leaving her in a field of green.

***

"You can’t tell me she’s dead, Doctor," Trunks said firmly, standing up at his full height over the short wiry man.

"I…I’m extremely sorry, sir. We’ve tried everything, but it’s just too late. I…"

"Kuso," he said softly, his fists uncurling limply at his sides.

Why?

He closed his eyes. The doctor looked at him curiously.

Why did this have to happen?

"Are you all right, sir? Mrs. Soriku would gladly have a talk with you if you need anything."

Dammit, why?!

His lavender hair flickered golden for a second. The doctor backed away warily. Whirling on his heel, Trunks stormed out of the hospital, a single tear falling from its suspension in the air to the floor.

It wasn’t your fault.

Trunks turned again in his sleep, haunted by all the accusations he had put upon himself. His soul was torn in half, grieving for his mother and guilt for her death.

She killed herself by giving you that damned contrivance.

"NO!!!"

He sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat damp and hot on his skin. Breathing raggedly, he clenched his head in his hands. It wasn’t her fault she died. It was his.

It was his fault.

He tore his throat hoarse screaming.

***

"Bulma!!!" a playful, painfully familiar voice shouted with glee. Bulma found herself enveloped in bulky muscular arms.

"S—Son-kun?" she choked out. He moved his face in front of her, and they both looked into each other’s eyes for a brief second.

"Goku," she sobbed, and fell into his strong embrace.

"It’s okay," he said, patting her back. "You don’t have to be scared of being dead. I’ve been here for so many years I lost count!"

"You don’t know what it’s been like all those years," she murmured.

"Yeah, I do, in fact. I can still see what’s going on. I talk to Kaio-sama all the time! That son of yours, Bulma. You should be so proud of him."

"Trunks. Oh Kami, Trunks! I left him!" she gasped, and let go of her friend.

A puzzled look appeared on his face. "So?"

"He’s alone down there, he was so worried about me before…oh, dammit, I can’t die now! Trunks needs me!" she said agitatedly.

"It’s too late, Bulma," a new voice called. "You’re going to stay here forever."

"Kuririn?" she looked at the newcomer. He hadn’t changed one bit.

"Hey, long time no see. How’s everything?"

"You’re…all…here," she said in slow realization.

Her eyes scanned the wide grassy meadow and found her old friends and relatives all coming towards her. Otousan, Okaasan, Yamucha, Tenshinhan, Gohan…all of her friends killed by the Jinzoningen and Cell. Looking farther, she saw endless multitudes of people, frolicking and laughing. This was an Elysian field.

"Welcome to Heaven. Although I couldn’t really call it that since you’ve arrived, Bulma Briefs," a voice snickered in her head.

"That’s Kaio-sama," Goku told her. "Don’t mind him, he makes stupid jokes all the time."

Everything’s happening so fast…what am I supposed to do?

Then, all of her jumbled thoughts riveted on one thing. Something she had overlooked through all her confusion.

"Son-kun. Where’s Vejita?"

***

She looked concernedly at the back of her friend as he labored tirelessly and wordlessly at his cluttered desk. It had been four hours since he had gotten up from that chair. Putting down the papers she had been organizing, she walked to him and offered to take over for a while.

"No. I have to finish this," was the terse reply.

Riona put a hand on her hip. "Please, take a break for a bit. Go get some fresh air. I can manage it."

"No, thank you."

She got a hold of his shoulder and turned him to face her. "Listen, Trunks, I am staying this six months for you, because I wanted to help you and because I care. Now don’t push me away, cuz I’ve sacrificed half a year of taking care of my own family to come help you."

There was a tinge of guilt in his eyes, but he looked away. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Please, let me," she said in a gentler tone.

Yieldingly he rose from the high-backed chair and left the room.

Riona immediately got down to business. First she straightened out the backlog situation with a few brief phone calls and emails, then went on to overlook the bridge-building project Capsule Corp. had undertaken. The Jinzoningen had completely devastated this area, leveling it each time it had been rebuilt. It was where she had lived her childhood.

Tousan.

She took a deep drought of coffee, clearing her mind. She sent off another terse email. Lounging back in the chair, she stretched her arms and shoulders.

Kaasan.

Yes, she had lost both parents in the first five years of the android attacks. Soon after, her brother and sister had disappeared, leaving her alone in the ravaged world. She had become just another innocent face, a deprived child, in the orphanage.

Kaasan.

A foreign thought echoed with hers. Parallel with her mind. Riona blinked. It was Trunks. He lost his mother too…

He was a grown man, a model leader and a strong fighter. He was fully capable of taking care of himself and Capsule Corporation, but strangely he could not handle his mother’s death and move on. Riona had only been ten when she had lost her parents, and had cried enough to dry her tears for the rest of her life. Trunks was above thirty now.

Riona had never known of Trunks’ father. She assumed that Bulma-san had just had a casual affair with some man and lost him perhaps by the hands of the androids. Sometimes, though, she had caught snippets of conversation between her and Trunks, learning just a little background information about Bulma-san’s deceased lover.

Kaasan!

Trunks’ tortured thoughts rang again in her head. How can I hear his thoughts?

Riona let out a sob at the fluid mass of images cascading through her. All of them jumbling together, yet in a horribly precise sequence. And the final one. Bulma-san, lying dead on the glass. So much glass. Blood too.

She ran from the room to find Trunks.

* * * * *