Chapter 8

"Thunder wishes it could be the snow

Wishes it could be as loved as she can be

These gifts are here

For her, for you, for me"

-Tori Amos, "Purple People"

Walking through the streets of West Capital, the two girls’ felt their hopes rise. Miura was hopping that they could get the virus delivered, build another time machine, and go home as soon as possible. Montana was hoping that the Mirai Trunks was as hot as the other Trunks so Miura would stop acting like an insane mass murderer on the Fourth of July at a police picnic.

Finally, the building was in sight. Montana knocked on the door, anxious for a response. Just as they were about to go around back and try that door, the front one swung slowly open.

"Can I help you?" a smooth voice asked from inside the house. Miura's head shot up from its continual viewing of the ground to see Mirai Trunks standing in the doorway.

"Trunks!!" she cried happily. Knocking Montana out of the way, she flew at him, knocking him against the wall. Kissing him passionately, Miura was too preoccupied to see Bulma enter the room.

"Trunks, who was at the door?"

He shrugged, unable to answer his mother. Bulma gave him an odd look and asked,

"Who is that girl, Trunks?" Once again, he raised his hands in a confused gesture. Montana entered the house and passed the over zealous Miura and the mortified Trunks.

"Bulma," she began, "We are from the other time line. You sent us to help defeat the Jinzounegen. We come bearing a computer virus that will destroy them as you know them. My name is Montana, and she," indicating at the excited girl in Trunks arms, "Is Miura." IN a whisper she added to Bulma,

"You'll have to excuse her, she was bonded to the Trunks in our time line, and she hasn't seen him in three months. You understand, right?"

Bulma could only nod as she watched Miura molest her son.

"Um, Miura," Montana coughed, "don’t you think you should let the poor boy up for air?"

"Oh, sorry," the younger girl muttered, suddenly embarrassed. She backed away from him and apologized. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Well," Bulma started, "Since I sent you here, why don't you make yourselves comfortable? Go pick out a room for yourselves, and rest. We'll be here when you wake up, it sounds as if you'd had a long trip to help us. Oh, and I'll take the baby for you. What's his name?"


Montana led the abashed Miura upstairs to the guestrooms. They each picked one out, then slept.

Miura awoke with a start and looked at the small clock that was to her right. She had been asleep for sixteen hours, and having strange dreams. First, she was in the gravity room, training with Trunks, when he disappeared. In his place stood Montana with Ethan in her arms. "Miura," she said, "You have to help us!! Please don't let us die!" Then a blast vaporized them and Juunana, who had materialized out of the blast, walked towards her threateningly.

"They will all die if you let them," he growled, charging up a ki beam, "And I won't be able to help you if you don't let me." He fired the beam at her, and she tried to raise her arms to block it, but found she couldn't move. The blast hit her head on, and she remembered Trunks hovering over her, only not her Trunks, but the other one she had just met. He was holding her close to him and tears were streaming down his face. That's where she woke up.

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she crawled out of bed and over to the mirror.

"Yuck," she stated, "I need a shower." Grabbing some towels from a hallway closet, she proceeded to the bathroom. After showering, she changed into some clothes Bulma had left out for her and went downstairs. Montana and Bulma were seated and having breakfast, Ethan squalling on his mother's lap.

"So nice of you to join us," Montana said sarcastically over the noise. Miura shot her a withering look, and plopped down at an open seat. She poured herself some cereal and milk and began to devour the food in typical Saiya-jin fashion.

"I had doubts about your story;" Bulma said after a moment, "Then seeing you two eat assures me that you're telling the truth." Miura looked up from her meal; her cheeks stuffed with Fruit Loops and milk dribbling down her chin. Montana chuckled and continued feeding the baby.

Just then, Trunks walked in the room, and Miura choked on her cereal. Not noticing, he sat down, slightly embarrassed, across from her and began his meal.

"Well, when you two are done, come down to the lab and show me what you've got so far," Bulma suggested, leaving the room. Giving Miura a wry look, Montana also excused herself, Ethan in tow.

"So," Trunks said nervously, "Why are you here? My mother told me that you had a computer virus of some sorts, but how are you going to upload it into the androids' system?"

Miura looked at him confidently, she always felt better when she knew what she was talking about.

"Well, we have to get into physical contact with them," she answered. "Here, I'll show you." She went around the table to sit next to him. "First, we take the virus and hold it with a special glove that we've modified for this purpose. Then, we touch them, but it must come into contact with their skin..." she trailed off, noticing that her hand was on his bare shoulder. Both looked away anxiously, embarrassed.

"Trunks, I'm sorry for yesterday," Miura apologized, "I just hadn't seen MY Trunks in such a long time, and you look so much like him-"

"Wait a minute," he interrupted, "YOUR Trunks?"

She blushed. "Mm-hmm."

"That explains so much," he thought to himself. "If my other self was bonded to her, that explains my initial attraction to her yesterday. And why I can't stop thinking about her now." Shaking himself out of his reverie, he saw that everyone had gone, and he was sitting alone at the kitchen table. Shrugging, he poured himself another bowl of cereal and ate.

Miura sat down by the window in her room. This was harder that she thought, facing this time line's Trunks and knowing that it wasn't the same Trunks she was bonded to. "So this is what he meant by wanting to kill yourself," she thought wryly. "Funny that he would be right downstairs, and I can't do anything about this pain inside my head. Its torturing me. I have to be going crazy!" She rose abruptly from her bed and ran out the room, down the steps, through the kitchen, and out the door.

Trunks, who was still eating, watched her with growing interest. Following her outside, he found her standing against a tree in the backyard, the cold rain that had started to pour drenching her. She hugged her arms around her and sunk down to the ground, her violet hair surrounding her like a halo. He decided to leave her alone, that is was the best thing to do in the situation. After all, if she were going back to the other time line, she most certainly wouldn't want him, but the other him. “That doesn’t even make sense to me!” He thought.

As he turned to go, he heard her crying silently and he looked over his shoulder. Sighing, he went over to her and sat by her beneath the tree.

"What's wrong?" He asked. He put a comforting arm around the sobbing Saiya-jin girl, and she rested her head on his strong chest.

"Its nothing, nothing at all..." she trailed off as another sob racked her petite frame.

"It certainly doesn't seem like it," he commented gently as he smoothed her hair away from her face.

"I...I can't tell you," she answered.

"Why not?"

"Its just...I don't know how to describe what I'm feeling. There's this pain inside my head and no matter what I do to try and stop it, it keeps growing. It gets so bad sometimes that I think I might kill myself to rid myself of this agony. Then I think of Montana and Ethan, how they would be devastated if I died, and of all the people in this timeline I have to help. My death would be meaningless if I just gave up. So I live on, in torture."

Trunks held the sobbing girl a little closer and let her cry on his shoulder. She put her arms around him and whispered,

"Thank you. I know this must be hard for you, but I want you to know how much it means to me."

"Hard for me?" He countered, "This is probably harder for you. Seeing me must bring out a lot of memories."

She nodded and buried her tearstained face in the soft folds of his shirt. Tightening his hold on Miura, he stood and led her back to the house. As they entered the living room, he instructed her to sit.

"Stay here while I get you a towel to dry off with." Trunks left the room, and Miura sat on the sofa, peering out the window. Bulma and Montana entered the room and sat by her, exchanging worried glances.

"Um, Miura," Montana started cautiously, "We have some bad news."

Looking away from the window, the younger Saiya-jin made eye contact with Montana.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Well," she tightened her grip slightly around her son, "The parts we lost from our time machine aren't available in this time. I'm afraid we're stuck here...forever."

Miura's face remained passive as she heard the news. "Oh, OK." She got up and left the room, leaving a confused Bulma and a concerned Montana.

"Why'd she do that?" Bulma asked, going over to the older Saiya-jin. "I thought she'd be upset. Or at least have a more emotional reaction than that."

As she was speaking, an ear-piercing scream resonated through out the house. Miura appeared a moment later, totally composed.

"That's OK," she said, "Let's get on with our mission."

The older women exchanged glances, and Bulma approached the indigo-haired Saiya-jin.

"Are you going to be OK, dear?" she asked, concerned. Miura nodded without feeling.

"Let's go down to your lab, Bulma, and ready the virus." She exited the room, not looking back to see if they were following her.

Entering the lab, Miura sat at a table and reached into the container holding the virus. Montana and Bulma walked in a moment later, and witnessed her attempting to adjust the virus. She couldn't see though, because of the tears that were clouding her vision. Montana put a hand on her friend's shoulder and said comfortingly,

"Miura, put the virus down and try to get some rest. This has been a big shock for you today."

She shook her head violently and stood.

"No. I am going to do this." Miura ran out of the room and passed Trunks, who was holding a towel.

"Miura, wait!" He grabbed hold of her arm to stop her.

She looked back at him, her eyes cold and lifeless, and Trunks let go as if he had been burnt. He watched her run out the door, and then saw Montana and his mother exit the lab.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked.

"She just needs some time," Montana muttered, "That's all. She just needs some time."