Trunks’ First Word

“Oh you’re getting so big!  I just wish you would say something.” Trunks looked up at his mother tentatively, but resumed building a complex (for a one year old) tower made of blocks. His first birthday was only a week before, and according to his pediatrician, he exceeded all the expectations of any 12 month old ‘infant’ in his experience. Trunks, at three months, was already capable of crawling, and it only escalated from there. At eight months, he was able to feed himself and began mimicking the moves his daddy made outside. Normal children, usually say their first words between the ages of nine to twelve months, and sometimes (usually boys) as late as eighteen to twenty months. Trunks was certainly not the average baby, with all that he has achieved in such a small time, every one assumed who would speak at least by his first birthday, yet not one word. Vegita guessed that either his son was the strong silent type or he wouldn’t get a word in edge-wise, with all of Bulma’s incessant chatter. She thought simply that he’d talk when he was good and ready. Dr. and Mrs. Briefs went as far to hire an audiologist to test if he was hearing impaired. To the doctor’s surprise, the little boy’s hearing was so good that he picked up on sounds that normally developed infants could not hear. Nothing, as far as anyone could tell, was medically wrong with him, sure he would giggle, squeal, and make other baby sounds, just no baby babble.

          Bulma sat next to Trunks on the couch, reading a scientific journal, while Vegita paced impatiently, waiting for Gohan to arrive. Since Goku’s death, Vegita and Piccolo have been training Gohan alternately much to Chichi’s displeasure. However, it was a general consensus that the boy trained and kept up his skills, for he may be needed again, like he was with Cell. Several minutes ticked by and there was a knock at the door. Trunks got up to answer, leaving his tower of blocks behind. He knew Gohan was there and always enjoyed seeing someone not so big as the others. The toddler opened the door and greeted him with a mile wide grin. “Hey big guy!” He scooped a giggling Trunks and mussed up his hair. “Would you cut that out? You came here to train. This is not a social call with my son and you’re already five minutes late. I thought your father was a better trainer and your mother a better disciplinarian than what I see here.” “What??” Gohan thought, “ You thought my dad was a good trainer? You must really miss him.” Vegita grew impatient. “Quit your lollygagging brat, there is much work to be done.” And so the princely saiyan followed closely by the half-saiyan, made their way to the back yard. Usually, Trunks would follow his father outside, but quietly so he couldn’t be noticed, and watch from a distance to not get hurt. He found a great interest in what his father spent a good portion of his time. That day however, Bulma had other plans for her son, and grabbed him before he had the chance to get anywhere. “You stay put young man. I have something to show you.” Trunks pouted and pointed toward to window, where Vegita could be seen showing Gohan a move. Futilely, he whined and struggled, but Bulma would have nothing to do with it. “Come on Trunks. I’m going to show you some pictures!” He rolled his eyes out of her sight. “She just loves to show me capsule blue-prints”, he thought.

          Bulma sat and placed Trunks on her lap, pulling out a thick leather bound book from the bookcase ‘he’s never to touch’. She opened it slowly and brushed off a little dust that settled on the cover. His eyes grew wide, peppered all over the pages were pictures of people that looked very familiar but couldn’t place. Just seeing the faces however, made his mother smile, and thus making him smile all the more. “You see these guys Trunks? Well, you may not remember them but they are the Earth’s Special Forces also known as the Z-fighters. You have met them all when you were just a little newborn, but I think that you are a little old enough now to understand who they are.” She paused thoughtfully. His big blue eyes took a glance at the dreamy look in his mother’s eyes and turned his attention back to the book. He cocked his head to the side and studied each picture on the page. “Well, they all look familiar enough. There’s Mommy, I don’t see Daddy anywhere. I don’t think that guy with his arm around Mommy is him. What’s his name? I bet Daddy doesn’t like him. There’s Gohan, he’s on some happy guy’s shoulders. This guy doesn’t have a nose, and what’s with the pig with sunglasses?” he wondered. “Do you remember any of them?” Bulma asked. He shook his lavender haired head inquisitively. “I’m not surprised! Daddy and I haven’t seen any of them except Gohan since one of our best friends… died.” She paused a second. They all felt the pain of Goku passing, but nonetheless, they should all honour that and keep in touch. “The one that died was Goku, sweetie, he was Gohan’s daddy. You see the man there, where Gohan is on his shoulders? Well that’s Goku. He used to keep us all together. I wasn’t much of a fighter, but I helped in more ways than one, and yet, it never mattered to him. He was my first friend, I miss him, and I think we all miss him. Even your Daddy missed him, though I doubt you’ll ever hear him admit it.” She chuckled despite the slight tears that threatened to slide from her eyes.

          Trunks eyes grew wide. He never realized his parents had friends before, and he never thought Gohan had a father. That thought struck him as very bizarre. “… And the noseless man next to Oolong is Krillin, I think you would like him Trunks, he’d make you feel really big.” She continued flipping through the pages, explaining as many as possible. She stopped however, at one picture she never realized was taken. It was a photo of a picnic held in the backyard, maybe a day or so before Cell’s tournament. “Wow, I’ve never seen this one. Look Trunks!” she pointed enthusiastically. “It’s just us and the Sons. I wonder how Chichi and the new baby are doing. I don’t even think she knew she was pregnant yet when this picture was taken. Haha! Look! Goku has his hand on Daddy’s shoulder. I don’t think Vegita was too happy about that. Hey and there’s you in Gohan’s arms!” Trunks made his way directly between his mother and the photo album and systematically pointed at the various people while Bulma named then off for him. He repeated the each name with no sound coming from his tiny moving lips. After so many pictures, he gently took the book away from his mother and flipped back to the page that had the picnic picture on it. “They looked so happy… and it was that guy, Gohan’s daddy that made them all happy! What is his name again? Think think think,” he thought. “Goku?” he mumbled. Bulma’s eyes shot open. “Whaaat did you just say?” she sputtered. “Goku?” he repeated quietly, all the while pointing curiously to the picture of Gohan’s father. Bulma nodded, as her jaw simply lay limp. Trunks raised an eyebrow at his mother. “Silly Lady!” he thought. She blinked and regained her composure. “Yes Trunks, that’s Goku.”

The End