He stood upright and tall in the midst of a rocky cliff. The clouds of the sunset were thick and pink and surrounded him on all sides, comforting, warm, and impenetrable. He had been there all day, much like he had been every day, thinking and remembering and planning. Today he had meant to relax, to give his mind a rest from all of the grief that had been plaguing him. He had begun to climb to the top of the cliff, intent on thinking of nothing but memories that would make him smile or smirk --- to remember the days when had had been superior to everyone. He had sat down on a comfortable rock, placed his hands behind him and leaned back, thinking that today he was going to have a day that was free of stress and pain. And that’s when it happened. Through the blur of white, he could see patches of blue sky in the distance, peeking through in shifts as he tilted his head to the side, disbelieving. The flame of black hair on his head swayed back and forth in the wind, and he narrowed his eyes, concentrating.

It couldn’t be.

He could feel her. He could feel her here. She was here on Earth and alive. There was no mistaking it. He knew her presence just was well as he knew his own. It was so sharp and so vivid that it was almost as if she had just appeared before him, her deep blue eyes on twinkling and her face lit up with a smile. He could feel her excitement; he could feel it rushing through his veins and making his heart beat faster, pounding in his chest. He would know her presence anywhere, could feel her gentle ki from any corner of the universe. It was a comfort to him, what made him be able to sleep on difficult nights and wake up on even more difficult mornings. It was her presence that had guided him through many things, and made him fight harder when that small voice inside of his head was telling him that he was going to lose. Her heart and soul was what had propelled him to stay here on this planet, to adapt, to learn, to give. He would know that presence anywhere. There was no question as to whether it was her or not. Vejiita may have been thinking a lot of somewhat delusional thoughts lately and might have been beginning to doubt his own sanity, but he knew when he felt his mate.

But then….it couldn’t be.

She was dead. She had died on Sukuashi, was killed. She had perished before his own eyes. And if she were dead, then why could he feel her here now? If she had been awakened with the dragonballs, he would have known about it. There was an unmistakable shift in power when the dragon appeared, and the sky took on a black hue that was unlike any other. She hadn’t been brought back to life. There was no way that she could be alive and on Earth. There were no possibilities and there was no room for argument about that fact: she was dead. She was still dead. So why did he feel her ki? His mind eagerly searched for possibilities, and his dark eyes narrowed even further in thought.

But while his mind was seeking an answer, his heart was still delving into memories of the past, living his time with her over and over again. Instead of coming to a logical conclusion of why he was feeling his dead wife’s ki, all of his limbs began to tingle with excitement and emotion. It didn’t matter why she was here, just that she was here. He could imagine flying to her, finding her waiting for him, just as she always seemed to be. The memories were so powerful that he could actually feel the silky turquoise stands falling through his fingers --- he could actually taste the vanilla lip gloss that always coated her perfect lips. He could feel the gentle, rhythmic beating of her heart against his own, strong enough to be healthy, yet weak enough to be human. The effect of these memories was so instantaneous that it was almost like taking a drug and feeling it seep in through his veins, rushing all over his body. Though Vejiita was not an emotional person, because there were no such things as emotions and feelings where he came from, he began to feel. He did not want to feel. Adding feeling to such things only made him weaker. He could not allow himself to think of her like that; the whole situation did not make sense. It was possible that he was dreaming, though he had never experienced such a vivid dream before; and it was possible that none of it had ever happened --- the flight to Sukuashi, the fighting, her death. It was also possible that there was some other explanation out there, and he wasn’t going to find it unless he willed himself to concentrate. His hands clenched at his sides hard, his knuckles turning white from the strain of his own grip. He forced himself to keep his mind on course, and felt her ki again, trying to think of a logical reason why his dead wife would be here.

When he found the other ki, he was confused at first. Then understanding began to dawn on him, slowly and unwanted. He was here as well. The boy from the future --- His son; the future version of Trunks. He couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t felt this ki before, unless his mind had been clouded over by all of those silly human emotions. That meant that he had indeed felt Bulma’s ki, but it was not the Bulma that he knew. Mirai Trunks had come from the future world once again, and this time he had brought his mother. This disappointed him slightly, but he was surprised to find that the feelings of excitement and attachment did not disappear. Although his mind knew better, his heart was still feeling the same way, as if his Bulma had appeared on Earth once again.

That is not your mate. He chided himself, glaring to the side with fierce, dark eyes. She might seem to be, but she is not the mate that you remember. You are getting stupidly excited and emotional over nothing. A mere copy of your mate.

Instead of dwelling on all of the trouble that Mirai Bulma was going to bring for him, he decided to think of his future son. There didn’t appear to be any danger; he could not feel that dark shadow that usually grew in his heart when something terrible was about to happen. So that brought up the question of what Mirai Trunks was doing here and why he had chosen to bring his mother along this time. The boy was stronger than the son that he knew from his own timeline; fighting the jinzouningen of the future world had obviously been good for him. He was older too; by Vejiita’s calculations, he should be well on into manhood. No doubt he had grown into a fine Saiya-jin. Although he had not been around in the future world to raise him, he was certain that the blood that ran through his veins was strong enough to mold him into a Saiya-jin warrior anyway. An unconscious smile began to form on his face as he crossed his arms and faced the direction in which he knew his future son was.

So, he thought. You have come back again?

Steeling himself, he stepped down from the rock that he had been perched on. He didn’t know if he was ready to make an appearance or not, but he knew that his future son would find him here anyway. Just as he shared a bond with his own son, Mirai Trunks held a great deal of importance to him as well. Things like a visit from the future did not happen every day. He owed it to the boy to at least speak with him once before he left again. He wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing another version of his mate right now either, but there were some things in life that were unavoidable. As much as he would like to stay here in this calm, quiet world of his own; a place where no one bothered him and he could be alone --- he couldn’t. Being a true Saiya-jin warrior meant that he had to face danger and opposition with his head held high and his heart full of courage and pride. He couldn’t keep running away from everything, especially not when it looked as though things were about to get more complicated.

Besides, he had a couple of brats to take care of.

He washed the dinner dishes slowly, hands gently scrubbing with warm and soapy water. Picking up another dish and placing it in the sink, he frowned, trying not to let the events of the afternoon unnerve him. Trunks didn’t understand her at all. And the fact that he didn’t stand her at all nearly drove him into hysterics at times. Actually, everything about her nearly drove him into hysterics. Tayhei was a menace; someone who shouldn’t be allowed to roam freely about the world; someone who should be locked up in a tiny little cell with soundproof walls. She mad him mad, so mad sometimes that he swore smoke was going to start pouring out of his ears.

And yet, he liked her.

He paused for a moment, his hands resting in the warm water. He had been watching her from the window the other day as she sat out in the yard with Bra. The two of them had on matching white sundresses, and Bra had even pulled her turquoise hair back into a ponytail, knotted at the base of her neck, just like Tayhei. They had sat in lounge chairs, identical glasses of iced tea at their sides, identical shades perched on the bridges of their noses. They weren’t doing anything particularly interesting, but Trunks found it fascinating to watch them there. More specifically to watch Tayhei, and the way that she interacted with his little sister. He had seen her smile --- really smile as they talked, and he was certain that behind those sunglasses, her green eyes were sparkling. And when Bra had trouble adjusting her lounge seat so that she could sit up higher, Tayhei had immediately gotten up and helped her with it; there had been no snide remarks, no dirty looks. She had just adjusted the chair with a smile, as if it were nothing to her, as if she had helped Bra with such things all of the time. He was certain that he saw the true Tayhei when she was with Bra. Not the Tayhei that tricked all of his friends and family with sickly sweet smiles, and not the Tayhei that was vicious to him. The real Tayhei --- who appeared to really care about his little sister. He had to admit that having her around lately had made it easier for him. With the loss of a mother figure for Bra, it was nice to have a woman around. Tayhei could never replace his mother, not in his eyes, not in Bra’s eyes, not to anyone. But it was comforting to know that she would do the best she could. And not because she had to, but because she actually wanted to. It was incredibly kind, really, the way that she treated Bra.

And yet, he still hated her.

It was so confusing that he had to actually hold his head to keep it from bursting open with strain. He simply couldn’t decide what to think about the girl. He was torn between completely adoring her and completely hating her. And those were two very unhealthy extremes. It made him absolutely sick to think about what he was going to say to her when she finally came home tonight. She had neglected to come back with him and Bra, insisting that she stay and eat dinner with Goten and his family.

And that made him mad as well. First of all, he was stuck cooking dinner and doing the dishes again. And secondly, he didn’t even want to delve into the issue of Goten and Tayhei. It just didn’t make sense at all. He could never tell if they were friends or if they were more than friends. Asking Goten wasn’t any help. The guy knew absolutely nothing about the way that the female mind worked. More often than not, every time he brought up the subject, Goten would get a dreamy look in his eye and talk about whatever food she had made for him last. He didn’t understand Tayhei’s attraction to Goten either. The girl was so….dynamic and vivacious. Goten was about as exciting as a sandwich. It was all so confusing! He put a soapy hand to his head again, trying to keep his mind from breaking in half.

Bra chose that exact moment to wander into the kitchen and sit down at the table, facing him with serious blue eyes. He looked back at her, knowing that she was probably going to say something, and was dreading it. Whatever it was going to be, he knew that it was not going to make him happy. As her little fingers tapped impatiently on the tabletop, he grew more and more irritated. He began to scrub at the dishes harder; the plates began to clink against one another in the sink loudly.

“Why are you always so mean to Tayhei?” She finally asked. It wasn’t so much a question, but a demand.

Trunks sighed. “Because she’s made of hellfire? I don’t know.”

“I don’t think you should be so mean to her. She’s really nice to me.”

“Exactly. She’s really nice to you. She’s really nice to Goten. She’s really nice to everyone on the planet except for me.” Trunks said in a frustrated tone, bending his head down to stretch his neck. The stress had decided to center itself right at the base of his skull.

Bra grinned. “Maybe she likes you!”

Trunks snapped his head up. “She….She does not like me. In case you haven’t noticed, the girl is particularly enamored with my best friend.”

“You like her.”

“I do not like her!” He cried out and stomped his foot. Dish soap went flying as he began to scrub the dishes with vigor.

“Then why are you talking about her?”

“I didn’t bring up the subject!” He yelled, exasperated. “You were the one that asked about her! And I am seriously getting annoyed here. If you aren’t going to help me do the dishes, then go outside and play or something.”

Looking as though she were pleased with the fact that she had unnerved him, Bra climbed out of her chair. There was a grin on her face unlike any other he had seen before, which only made him even more annoyed. She stopped for a moment in the doorway of the kitchen and bent over, sticking her tongue out at him. He shook his head and turned back to the dinner dishes; Bra took off towards the front door, giggling the entire way.

“Should we knock?”

Mirai Bulma looked up as her son asked her this question, then eyed the door. They were standing on Capsule Corporation grounds, right outside of the house. Nervously, she brushed the dust off of her pants with quick, proficient movements and straightened the blouse that she had on. She combed a shaking hand through her long turquoise hair, tucked it partially behind one of her ears, and straightened up, moving her shoulder blades back. Luckily, ChiChi had convinced her to change out of that ridiculous mini skirt, but she still did want to look nice. She needed to look presentable; she didn’t want them to think that she had turned into an old woman. Of course, it wasn’t just the looks that were worrying her. It was her personality as well. She had lost a lot of her youthful spunk these past years, living in a world that had been destroyed by the jinzouningen. Somehow, she needed to get that back, if only for the short time that she was here. Surely her old friends and family wanted to see her as the Bulma that they knew, not as the Bulma that had been jaded by a life of hardships and pain. From somewhere deep inside of her, she had to dig out the old Bulma. The Bulma that was flirty and animated and unquestionably determined. The Bulma that she had to admit she missed. And she knew that if she were still the way she was years ago, she wouldn’t be standing around in the yard debating whether to knock or not. She’d already be in the house.

“Don’t be foolish, Trunks.” She answered him, pushing past him as she strolled to the door. “I am not going to knock. This is my house, after all!”

As they approached the front door of Capsule Corporation, they both suddenly paused.

The door had opened on its own, the creaking of it accompanied by a wave of giggles and the high-pitched voice of a little girl. A figure came flying out at them, arms swinging back and forth as she skipped out onto the sidewalk. She had turquoise hair that was pinned up in a ponytail, bouncing curls flying behind a purple bow. She was small, definitely under ten years old, but she looked much older to her. The little girl was wearing a stylish purple dress and tiny patent leather shoes, looking perfect and polished and incredibly cute. As she stopped, finally noticing them, her blue eyes widened --- and Bulma blanched as she realized that she was looking into a pair of eyes that looked exactly like her own. This little girl was an absolute copy of her, from the hair to the eyes, to the way that she moved.

The little girl faltered in her skipping, a confused and tearful look appearing on her face. She looked unsure as she held her tiny hands up in front of her mouth, staring at Mirai Bulma as if she were the only thing that her little eyes could see.