"Ahhh, this is delicious! Just a little more!" exclaimed Goku, grinning wide with grains of rice stuck to his teeth, as he set his empty bowl aside.
The pile of dishes stacked beside him was absurd—anyone would think thirty people had just finished a feast. But no, it was the work of a single man, one that nobody in their right mind would ever invite to dinner. To make it worse, each bowl was the size of a small salad bowl, making the scene all the more unbelievable.
His beloved wife, Chi-Chi, simply brought him another heaping portion, smiling and cheerful in a way she hadn't been in years. She had always been happy with her family life, but ever since Goku had returned to stay with them four years ago, everything had gone back to the way it once was.
The pure-blooded Saiyan only trained in the mornings now, having decided to take a break since Goten's departure. That left his afternoons free to help his wife with chores around the house. He had even taken her shopping in the capital once—something she had always dreamed of.
All of this kept Chi-Chi in a good mood, not to mention Goku's firm attitude when "disciplining" their son. It made him seem like a responsible father, concerned with raising Goten properly.
But there was something that made life even sweeter. With Gohan now married and living with Videl, the house belonged to the two of them alone. That had led to something unusual—a passionate, romantic atmosphere that Chi-Chi had long yearned for, but which had become common over the past week thanks to Goten's absence.
In short, they hadn't held back—at all. The kitchen, the living room, any room in the house had become the stage for their fiery encounters. For Chi-Chi, it was as if she were young again, newlywed to her Goku. That, more than anything, explained her glowing mood. He had finally given her exactly what she wanted.
"Eat as much as you like, Goku. There's still plenty left," she said warmly, handing him another serving before he could even ask. There wasn't a creature in Mount Paoz Chi-Chi couldn't cook, and that day she had prepared a banquet from everything her Saiyan husband had brought home.
It was almost the perfect scene... Almost. But we all know it couldn't last. Two fools had gotten themselves lost, and Piccolo was the first to notice. Using telepathy, the Namekian warrior—fused with what was once Earth's Guardian—made his voice echo directly in Goku's mind.
"Goku! Can you hear me? I've got something urgent to tell you!"
The Saiyan pretended not to notice. He was too busy eating, and nothing would make him leave his seat until he was finished. But Piccolo, ever watchful, pressed harder.
"DAMMIT, GOKU! STOP EATING LIKE A BEAST AND PAY ATTENTION! YOU NEED TO GET TO KAMI'S TEMPLE RIGHT NOW!"
The booming depth of Piccolo's voice struck like thunder inside Goku's head, making him jolt and nearly drop his bowl to the floor.
"Something wrong, Goku?" Chi-Chi asked curiously from the kitchen, noticing her husband's sudden loss of composure.
She knew him far too well. Instantly, she suspected something strange was going on. After all, countless unusual things had happened throughout Goku's life.
"It's nothing, Chi-Chi!" he replied quickly, scratching the back of his head with a nervous smile—his typical clumsy, innocent gesture. "I just remembered something important, Piccolo asked me to do. I need to head to Kami's temple right away! I'll be back soon!"
Without another word, Goku stood up, leaving his meal half-finished. Placing two fingers against his forehead, he vanished.
All Chi-Chi could do was, as always, call his name and reach her hand out as if that would stop him—or at least get a better explanation. But it was pointless. When it came to Goku, this was normal: leaving her behind, trapped in uncertainty.
"What's going on?" Goku asked almost at the exact moment he materialized out of nowhere, just a few meters behind Piccolo.
The Namekian stood with his back to him, planted firmly at the edge of Kami's lookout, eyes fixed downward.
"It's about the brats. They've vanished," he said bluntly, without preamble. Tact and subtlety were never traits of his race.
"W–What do you mean, vanished!?" Goku's stomach twisted, and with it, the last of his appetite evaporated in an instant. His face drained of color, already dreading the thought of breaking this news to Chi-Chi. "Don't tell me… they've stayed inside the chamber for more than two days!?"
"That's not it. If that were the case, the door itself would've disappeared with them." A bead of sweat rolled down Piccolo's temple. Even he couldn't make sense of it, and that alone was troubling. "It all started this morning. The two days passed… but they never came out. I was already surprised they decided to train for two full years straight."
The silence was suffocating. Not even the wind could be heard at this altitude; the air itself seemed too heavy for something so ordinary. When Goku didn't respond, Piccolo turned to face him—only to realize he was already gone. He'd vanished without a word, leaving the Namekian talking to himself.
"Grrr! Damn it! What the hell's going through your head, Goku!?"
"KING YEMMA! PLEASE, YOU GOTTA HELP ME!" Goku shouted, panic-stricken, his voice cracking in a way utterly uncharacteristic of him.
Without a second thought, he darted past the endless line of souls waiting to be judged by the colossal red ogre. In his desperation, he shoved aside two of the small blue oni—dressed, oddly enough, like Jehovah's Witnesses—nearly knocking them to the ground.
"Goku! It's been ages! Don't tell me you've gone and died again?" boomed King Yemma with a smile, stamping a poor soul's fate into eternal damnation with a massive seal.
"No, no, it's not that—I need a favor! Urgently!" Goku pleaded, his fists clenched, feet shuffling in place like he might sprint off at any moment. "It's Goten and Trunks! My son—and Vegeta's boy! Have you seen them come through here?"
Typical. Rude as ever. Despite the years since they last spoke, Goku hadn't changed; respect for gods, deities, or any higher power in the Other World was never really his thing. He treated King Kai more like a buddy than the god of the northern quadrant of the universe.
"No, Goku, your son hasn't passed through here," King Yemma sighed, dragging a massive hand down his face and shaking his head at the Saiyan's incorrigible behavior. "Believe me, I'd have recognized him right away. And besides, these last few days, it's been nothing but ordinary souls. Nobody's come through with a body intact."
The whole exchange was eerily familiar. Years ago, Goku had burst in with the same panicked desperation, convinced Gohan had been killed by Majin Buu. Back then, too, everyone—even the tiny blue cloud-like souls drifting about—had broken into a nervous sweat. It seemed Goku's carelessness with his children was a universal constant. He never truly knew if they were safe… or even alive.
"But just check your book anyway!" Goku begged, still bouncing in place like he couldn't keep still. "I need to rule out the worst possibility!"
He knew perfectly well someone couldn't die without passing through King Yemma's judgment. Every soul had to be accounted for. If their names weren't written in the great book, then the boys were alive… though that only raised more troubling questions.
Minutes dragged on uncomfortably as the restless murmuring of the waiting souls swelled. At last, Yemma flipped through the immense ledger, eyes scanning page after page with surprising speed and precision. No sign of Goten. No sign of Trunks.
"There's no record of them, Goku. Which means they're not dead. So cheer up! After all, it's not like they're—"
But when Yemma lifted his head from the tome, Goku was gone. Vanished without a word, leaving the mighty judge talking to himself.
"KAIO-SAMA!" Goku shouted as he suddenly appeared before the small deity of the North.
He caught him at a very bad time. The Kai was in the middle of a fierce competition with Bubbles, trying to see who could make their little stream of pee go farther.
"GOKU! WHY YOU SHOW UP WITHOUT WAHNING!? YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK!" Startled and alarmed, Kaio lost his concentration and ended up wetting himself, which of course made Bubbles the winner of their very important contest. Truly, living in such a boring place could drive anyone to come up with ridiculous pastimes.
"I'm sorry, Kaio-sama, but this is urgent! I can't wait!" Goku blurted out, grabbing the short, round god by the front of his robes with both hands and shaking him back and forth with desperation.
"Alright, alwight, calm down and tell me what's going on!" Kaio yelped as he struggled in the Saiyan's grip, trying to free himself from the shaking.
It really was incredible—one moment you're peacefully relieving yourself in your own backyard, and the next someone materializes out of nowhere, screaming at you and rattling you around like a madman. Anyone would be shocked.
Taking a deep breath to cool his fury, Goku released Kaio-sama, collected his thoughts, and quickly explained the situation. It only took a few minutes, since he focused only on the part where the boys had entered the Hyperbolic Time Chamber to train. Given the importance of that place and its history of use in past crises, the North Kai had no trouble understanding. He was well aware of the chamber's strange rules and conditions, so the moment he heard the story, he grasped the gravity of the situation. The kids had simply… vanished.
"Well… to tell you the twuth, Goku, I don't know what to say. I don't like the sound of this at all. I feah the worst…"
"W-What do you mean by 'the worst'?" Goku stammered, turning pale. His fear wasn't just for the boys—an image of Chi-Chi's wrath flashing in his mind made his stomach churn. He was in for big trouble.
"The Time Chamber is a parallel dimension. The only thing I can imagine is that the kids found… another way out." Kaio-sama's expression darkened. The faint glimmer on his sunglasses gave him a rare air of seriousness.
Seeing Goku's baffled face—one eyebrow raised as he scratched the back of his head nervously—the Kai was forced to continue, realizing the Saiyan wasn't following.
"I know that chamber has only one entrance… but remember what happened when the kids fought Majin Buu?" He turned his back to Goku, walking slowly away, his two antennae twitching constantly.
"I think I get it," Goku muttered after a moment, staring into the strange pink sky, one hand stroking his chin thoughtfully. "But if they got out… where are they now? I couldn't sense their energy on Earth. And Piccolo didn't see them either. Did they end up somewhere else by accident?"
"I'm afraid so. At least… they're not anywhere in the Northern Galaxy…"
Goku's eyes widened in shock. Now he understood: Kaio-sama had tried to locate them with his antennae and failed. They weren't within his domain.
"That means they're somewhere else in the universe. Fine, I just need to focus, and I'll sense their ki. If it's too hard, I'll just raise my own—then they'll know to find me." He smiled brightly, as though everything had been solved already.
"No, Goku." Kaio-sama stopped him before he could even bring his fingers to his forehead. "I sugwest you talk to the Supreme Kai. I know he's watching us right now. Maybe he can help… this is beyond me."
Now things were truly confusing. The situation was so strange, there were hardly any precedents. Only the highest deities of the multiverse could truly make sense of it.
Goku stood in silence, throwing a final sideways glance at Kaio-sama. Then he turned, his expression sharpening—eyes firm, brow furrowed, that familiar aura of determination burning in him. Whatever it took, he would find answers.
Without another word, he used the Yardrat technique to teleport straight to the Sacred World of the Kais, hidden in the deepest reaches of the cosmos.
The Supreme Kai of the East was already aware of the situation. After all, the presence of a living being in the Other World was impossible to overlook. Still, he always knew it had to be Goku, so it came as no surprise. He paced nervously back and forth, hands clasped behind his back.
Meanwhile, under the shade of a thick tree, the Supreme Kai of Fifteen Generations lounged on the grass, a dirty magazine sprawled across his lap. The old deity slowly flipped through the pages, savoring the images of beautiful Earth women. Yes, Earth women—because when Goku failed to deliver on his promise of a photo of Bulma, he was forced to "borrow" a few magazines from Master Roshi. The filthy old hermit had so many that he never even noticed the missing copies.
With a sudden whoosh, Goku appeared before them. He was serious this time—he had a bad feeling. It wasn't normal for King Kai, practically a friend of his, to tell him so casually to come before the gods of gods themselves… to set foot on a land that was supposed to be sacred, far beyond the reach of mortals.
A quick glance around confirmed that the nearly indestructible planet had recovered from all the destruction it suffered during the last battle for the universe.
"It's good to see you again, Goku," said the Supreme Kai of the East, trying to break the ice. He needed to tread carefully—he knew Goku's reckless and irreverent personality, and pairing that with Beerus' temper could never end well.
"Hi, Supreme Kai!" Goku greeted, raising a hand with a smile that was more strained than usual. He couldn't completely hide the worry on his face. "See, the thing is—"
"Don't worry, I already know," the Kai interrupted, raising one arm to calm him while keeping the other behind his back. "Goten and Trunks are no longer in the chamber. As you know, if they had stayed inside, the doorway would have vanished along with them by now. That means they must've gotten out… but not through the normal exit. The only explanation I can think of is that they forced a portal open by raising their ki."
That was all Goku needed to hear. If the boys had left that way, it meant they had no other choice. They must've strayed too far from the doorway and gotten themselves lost. That—or they were just showing off. Maybe they'd tried to test their power, warping the fabric of space-time itself and tearing through the "walls" of the dimension.
"How can they come back?" Goku finally asked, realizing just how complicated this was becoming. He was already lost in the details.
"It's complicated. Honestly, I can't say for certain." The Supreme Kai closed his eyes and took a deep breath before continuing. "There are countless dimensions throughout the universe—so many that they're as impossible to number as the galaxies themselves. Some are infinite, like the Hyperbolic Time Chamber. Others are tiny, like the inside of Majin Buu's body. The chamber is nothing more than an intermediate plane, another dimension of time, if you will. The problem is, the larger these dimensions are, the greater their chance of overlapping with other places we cannot normally perceive in this universe—or even in others."
Goku frowned, struggling to follow along. Explanations like this were never his strong suit, but the Kai was clearly trying hard to make it simple. Even so, he still wasn't seeing the point.
"What I'm saying," the Kai pressed on, "is that Goten and Trunks must have slipped into another universe. Most likely the Sixth or the Eighth, since those are the closest to ours. I doubt they traveled far enough to land beyond that. After all, the chamber's entry point belongs to Universe 7—our universe—so it's practically impossible for it to connect to the earliest universes, no matter how twisted space-time gets."
The Kai's words began to blur together, like some strange ancient language worming its way into Goku's brain. All he could really think of was that moment long ago, floating in space, when Beerus revealed that there were twelve universes in total.
"…so the real issue," the Kai finished, "is figuring out exactly which of the twelve they ended up in."
That part, Goku understood. He shook his head, finally catching the point, even if most of the explanation went right over him. He had to speak with Beerus.
"Don't you dare!" the Supreme Kai shouted, spinning around and thrusting a hand out just as Goku thought it. The Saiyan had forgotten how easily the god could read his mind. "Please proceed with caution. We must first determine where they are, just as I explained."
"But why haven't the kids returned on their own? Couldn't they just open another portal back?"
The Kai could only shake his head, staring at the man before him, fists clenched and taking a determined step forward.
"It's not the same," he said gravely. "Moving from a dimension into a universe is far easier than leaping from one universe to another. Finding them isn't just about which universe they're in—it's also about which dimension. And then, there's the matter of time itself. Even as we speak, wherever they are, months—maybe even years—could have already passed. Or…" He paused at the worry growing on Goku's face. "…it could be the opposite. They might have just arrived, while two whole days have passed here."
"Then what should we do?" Goku asked, flashing his trademark grin. But instead of his usual calm, carefree confidence, the smile was tight, nervous, betraying the sweat running down his brow. "Do you think Shenron could help us with this?"
"I doubt it," the Kai admitted, "but it's not a bad idea. With the Dragon Balls, we could at least learn their exact location. Once we know that, we could approach Beerus more carefully and see how far he's willing to help."
Not long ago, such talk would have been unthinkable. But ever since the whole fiasco with Beerus and the Super Saiyan God, the Destroyer had become something like a friend to Goku and the others—even showing up at Bulma's birthday party after his last three-year nap.
"Hold it right there!" At last, the perverted old Kai looked up from his magazine, wiping the single trail of blood dripping from his nose. "Don't you dare use the Dragon Balls for something like this! Remember the sacred pact made with the Namekians! It's already a disgrace that Earth even has Dragon Balls to begin with!"
"Come on, Supreme Kai, it's not that bad!" Goku chuckled nervously, waving his hands as though shooing away the old god's scolding. "Besides, I promise that if you let us—"
"No promises!" barked the old man in his goat-like voice. "You couldn't even keep the last one—where's that photo of the mature Earth woman you swore you'd bring me? All I've got are these cheap magazines and adult comics… although, I admit, they are pretty funny and entertaining…" He finished with a lecherous grin, trying in vain to hide the drool at the corner of his mouth.
"Ancestor! Please, behave yourself!" the Supreme Kai of the East cried, mortified.
Ignoring the younger god's protests, Goku stepped closer to the old man with the same disarming grin he always used to break down stubbornness.
"Come on, Supreme Kai, I really need this! And don't forget, my son and Vegeta's kid fought Majin Buu too—and they almost beat him! They deserve a chance." He leaned in conspiratorially, covering one side of his mouth with his hand as he whispered, elbowing the old man playfully in the ribs.
The perverted Kai twirled his little mustache between thumb and finger, mulling it over for a moment. Last time, he'd agreed only because the fate of the entire universe hung in the balance. Still, he had to admit—Goku had been instrumental. Not only had he taken down the pink demon, but he'd taught the kids Fusion. The Saiyan had contributed more than once, even if his and Vegeta's pride nearly cost them everything by refusing to use the Potara earrings.
"Well… I suppose it wouldn't hurt this time. But I strongly suggest—"
"Really? Thanks, old man!"
And before the Kai could finish, Goku vanished instantly, teleporting straight to Namek—leaving the Supreme Kai of Fifteen Generations mid-sentence, mouth hanging open.
BANG!
"Damn it! Don't play dumb—answer me!" Anko screamed, slamming her hand violently against the wooden table in front of Trunks.
The two of them were inside a small room at the tower, with Kakashi and Asuma present. It was meant to be used for interrogations, though in reality, it was rarely put to use.
Like a scene straight out of a police drama, the Saiyan sat under the glare of a single hanging lamp, the only source of light in the cramped chamber. Everyone else sat in small wooden chairs—everyone except Anko, whose irritation and anxiety wouldn't let her stay still for even a second.
Instead of playing the "good cop, bad cop" routine, she had gone straight for the second option. If not for the two jounin constantly holding her back, Anko would've resorted to physical torture long ago.
Well, correction: only Asuma was actually trying to calm her down. Kakashi, on the other hand, clearly had much more important things on his mind. Every time Anko slammed her hand on the table, her chest bounced with the impact—something the one-eyed pervert was following very, very closely, not missing a single jiggle.
The silver-haired ninja looked like he was about to keel over. He kept one hand over his nose at all times to stop the inevitable nosebleed. His silence wasn't that of deep focus on the interrogation—it was the silence of a man utterly consumed by indecent thoughts. And compared to true masters of the art like Jiraiya or Roshi, Kakashi was still just a rookie pervert. He still had much to learn.
"H-How should I know?" Trunks stammered, pressing himself back against the chair, trying to get as far away as possible from Anko's furious face as she leaned closer and closer, her glare sharp enough to cut steel. "I already told you, I didn't fight Orochimaru! I don't know why the hell he was here or where he went! If you want answers, ask Goten!"
"Oh, right, you said it was your little friend, didn't you?" Anko sneered. With a psychotic grin, she pulled a kunai from her pouch and dragged her tongue along the blade like some deranged maniac. "And you expect me to believe there's another little monster like you running around the forest?"
Her voice dropped into a sinister hiss, every word slithering out like a snake. Then, in a flash, she slammed the kunai into the table—just millimeters from Trunks' right hand, which had been resting calmly on the wood.
The boy's eyes flew wide open, his blue irises shrinking in sheer shock as he swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. Even Asuma's cigarette slipped from his mouth, falling to the floor. As for Kakashi—caught off guard this time—his nose erupted like a fountain, blood gushing uncontrollably. He spun around quickly, hiding his face and his arousal with one hand, while using the other to discreetly cover himself.
Anko's cold, fearless handling of the situation was something else. Anyone else would've hesitated before threatening someone capable of creating the massive crater outside the tower—a hole so enormous it looked like it was caused by a meteor rather than by Trunks' body. With that kind of impossible power, the idea of there being another kid like him seemed absurd, even though both Kakashi and Asuma had already explained there were two possible culprits.
"Alright, let's calm down for a second," Asuma cut in smoothly, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "Anko, what he's saying is true. Goten is the other boy we told you about. He's one of Kakashi's students and… well, he's pretty strong too. Isn't that right?" he added, shooting his colleague a look.
"Eh? Oh! Yeah—Goten's on my team, that's right!" Kakashi replied quickly, shaking his head to snap out of his fantasy world.
"By the way, Trunks… why were you in the tower alone? Where's the rest of your team?"
Asuma didn't truly believe something bad had happened, but it still struck him as strange. From his perspective, Trunks' team was probably the best-trained when it came to teamwork. For them to split up and go off on their own—he didn't like it. If there was one thing Asuma took more seriously than anyone, it was working together as a unit.
Trunks couldn't help but smirk, his sharp, confident demeanor returning. Deep down, he knew Asuma was covering for him, giving him a way out from Anko's relentless probing. But more than that, he felt satisfied—pleased with the decision he'd made.
"It was my idea. Since I'm faster, I told them I'd wait here at the tower to ambush the first team that showed up and steal their scroll. After that, my team would catch up on their own."
That was enough. With a resigned sigh, Asuma yanked the kunai out of the table and handed it back to Anko.
"Alright, that's enough for today. We'll wait here until Team 7 arrives, then we'll question Goten. You should head back to the exam."
He walked slowly to the door, giving Trunks a subtle nod to signal he was free to leave. The interrogation was over. Even Anko, though still visibly seething, knew it. Trunks didn't have anything useful to tell them.
"I'll walk him out," Asuma added, holding the door open until the boy stepped through. Together, the two of them left the interrogation room.
"That damn brat," Anko muttered darkly. She gripped her kunai tight and hurled it at the door with a sharp thunk, embedding it deep into the wood like a dart in a bullseye. "Did you see the way he was smirking? The bastard thinks he got away with it!"
The sound of their footsteps echoed through the dark, deserted halls. Aside from Hayate and the Sabaku siblings, there was no one else in the entire building. After descending a flight of stairs and crossing a couple of short corridors, they reached the entrance of the tower.
"Thanks, sensei," Trunks broke the silence, still wearing that confident smile with his hands behind his head. "If it weren't for you, that crazy girl would still be yelling at me and threatening me."
Instead of returning the friendly gesture, the jōnin remained serious, lost in silence as he took in the catastrophic scene outside the tower. It never failed to impress him. The Saiyan could be incredibly dangerous, and he needed to learn how to control his impulsive nature.
"I know you didn't mean any harm, but you really could have killed someone. Nobody could survive a direct hit like that."
Somewhat desperately, the jōnin searched his pockets for a cigarette, only to discover, to his frustration, that he had none left. He'd either have to request more or trek all the way back through the forest to get some. He would go insane if he went five whole days without smoking.
"I know, but the important thing is that nothing happened. Besides, that girl said she'd give me a scroll. We already passed…"
"You don't understand." He cut him off, not even meeting his eyes. "I know you're too strong. Stronger than I even thought. " His voice was uneasy as his gaze drifted back to the massive crater. If it had been any wider, the entire tower would have been swallowed up. He couldn't decide whether to have it filled or to build a bridge hundreds of meters long over it—circling around it every time was simply impractical.
"With power like yours, I know this exam is just a game for you, even if you don't see it that way. That's why what you did makes no sense. The purpose of the test is teamwork, and from the moment you arrived, you've done the exact opposite."
Now his sensei finally looked him straight in the eyes. Trunks hadn't expected it. He had been certain his plan was the best for everyone—that he had made the right decision—but once again, he was being corrected.
"Just think about it. What's the point of doing all the work yourself and leaving the others to simply meet up with you? Haven't you thought about the damage you're doing to them? Shikamaru, Ino, and Choji are training to become shinobi. In the future, they'll be risking their lives on real missions, facing real dangers. If they get that much help from the start, they'll never be able to perform at their best. They'll only have a greater chance of failing—or worse, dying…"
The boy understood, but he was growing tired of feeling like nothing he did was right. If Kakashi were his sensei, he was sure he wouldn't be getting this kind of lecture. He regretted more and more that Asuma was his teacher. After all, who the hell had ever been stronger than their sensei from the very start? The man couldn't even teach him a single technique!
"Maybe you're right," Trunks replied almost immediately, his sharp gaze fixed on him as he crossed his arms. He was irritated. "But as long as I'm with them, nothing bad will happen. I told them if they ran into trouble, they should raise their chakra, and I'd be there instantly. As long as I'm around, they'll never die."
"I understand. But how can you be so sure of that? Maybe you won't always be there for them."
"You mean someone else is going to kill me?" This time, the boy smirked confidently, daring him to respond.
"I doubt it. Though I admit, meeting you has made me see things differently."
With a faintly amused expression—more resignation than joy—Asuma lifted his gaze to the starry sky, realizing how small they truly were. Just a grain of sand in the vast world. That made them unimaginably fragile. Trunks' very existence was proof of that.
"I'd like to think otherwise, but something tells me you're destined for something different. Your future won't be filled with infiltration missions, delivering intel, or fighting shinobi from rival nations." He stopped when he noticed Trunks arching an eyebrow, clearly not following. "People like you have different responsibilities. When the time comes, you may be too occupied to protect your friends…"
"My father said a strong man doesn't care about the future—he creates his own." Growing impatient, arms still crossed, the boy gave an arrogant reply worthy of Ino herself. "Besides, I doubt Goten will ever lose control and go crazy or something." He laughed, genuinely amused by the thought. It was ridiculous. Only his friend had power to rival his own. "Unless some alien shows up. But that's unlikely—there's no reason for it to happen."
"Have you ever seen one?" Asuma asked curiously, widening his eyes at the comment. Then again, Trunks was half-alien, so his father had to be one.
"For as long as I can remember. My father was the first of many I've seen." He said it casually, making his sensei chuckle for hitting the mark. "Goten's father too. But they look like us, like normal people… though Goten still has his tail."
That explained why Trunks once had a tail as well, though Asuma had no idea why it had been removed. He preferred not to ask.
"You know, I don't know if these talks of ours are good or bad. I keep thinking about them afterwards." He concluded with a smile, realizing that sometimes ignorance was the healthier choice.
He was right. The matter of beings from other worlds bordered on insanity. It wasn't hard to imagine life existing elsewhere in the universe—it was harder to believe humans were the only ones—but interacting with aliens was something else entirely. And now, he was mentoring a boy who was nothing less than a hybrid: half-human, half-Saiyan.
Hands in his pockets, the jōnin turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. Sure enough, it was the girl from Sunagakure, watching from a distance near the entrance of the tower. Shadows covered half her body, but it was clear who she was. That was his cue to leave.
"Remember what I told you—teamwork."
Turning his back, he walked back into the cracked building, passing the kunoichi without looking at her, silently cursing himself for forgetting his cigarettes at home.
Once alone, Temari approached Trunks. Without a word, she tossed a small bag at his feet, nodding for him to pick it up.
Trunks frowned, clearly confused, but crouched down carefully and lifted the cloth sack. Inside were five scrolls of varying color.
"We got two Earth scrolls and three Heaven. Take whichever you need," she said in a tone softer than her usual stern demeanor—almost kind.
"How's your brother?" Trunks asked, ignoring the bag entirely, his blue eyes locking onto her evasive green ones.
"He's fine. Nothing too serious. He just needs to recover his strength after using so much of his sand armor." Temari exhaled heavily as she recalled her brother's state of mind after coming out of his shock. "He's just… shaken. Honestly, so am I. I'd never seen Gaara get hit like that… not like that."
Once again, her gaze was drawn—helplessly—to the massive crater. It was impossible not to. The hole was so enormous, the entire seven-story tower could have fit inside it without a trace. The thought that the boy standing calmly before her was responsible was almost unbelievable.
Trunks noticed the stitches over her left eyebrow, a reminder of the battle. "I'm sorry for what happened. I didn't mean to hurt you or your brothers."
Temari shook her head, her tone firm but less hostile this time. "You don't need to apologize. You did what you had to do. If things had gone differently, Gaara would've killed you. Honestly… you showed restraint. For that, I should thank you. Not many would have spared him."
For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy with unspoken weight. Temari's pride made the words sting, but her sincerity was clear.
Trunks looked back at the scrolls, then smirked faintly—so reminiscent of his father's grin. He stepped closer, pressed the bag back into Temari's hands, and said, "I don't need it. My team will get theirs on their own."
Temari blinked, startled by his refusal. Any other genin in the forest would have killed for just one of those scrolls, and this boy was simply giving it back.
"You're the most foolish shinobi I've ever met," she muttered, scowling as small creases formed over the bridge of her nose. "This exam is meant to be a mission. For the sake of your team's success, you shouldn't waste such an opportunity. And don't get me wrong—you earned it. I wasn't giving you charity."
"Maybe so," Trunks replied calmly, "but I want them to do it on their own."
With that, he turned and began to walk away, intent on finding his friends in the morning.
Temari clenched her fists at her sides. His overwhelming strength, Gaara's defeat, and now his refusal of the scroll all painted him as arrogant in her eyes. But deep down, she knew there was more to it—she just couldn't admit it out loud.
As the Saiyan vanished into the night, Temari's sharp mind was already at work. She understood one thing: knowing her opponent was the key to victory. Trunks was a wildcard, a threat that could jeopardize the entire invasion. She needed to understand him—his strengths, his habits, and, if possible, his weaknesses.
But what she didn't know was that, sooner or later, someone else would intervene. And when it came to this particular story, Ino Yamanaka would be the one to have the final word.
"This is such a drag. At this rate, we'll never reach the tower," Shikamaru complained from inside the hollow trunk of a massive tree, where he and his team planned to spend the night. "If we want any chance of making it, we'll have to pick up the pace tomorrow… though just thinking about it already gives me a headache."
Team 10 had spent nearly the entire exam in hiding, trying to avoid fights or exposing themselves. In the rush to reach the tower, Trunks had forgotten to bring their scroll, leaving them responsible for guarding it and making sure it didn't get stolen.
"Well, maybe we could move faster if Choji actually did his part!" Ino snapped, her arms crossed and her tone sharp with irritation. "If you'd stop eating like a pig for once, we wouldn't have to worry so much about being discovered! That fried snack you dropped earlier nearly gave away our position!"
"If you keep screaming like a banshee, you'll be the one who gives away our position!"
Ino nearly lost it. She clenched her fists so tightly that thick veins popped along her knuckles. She was just about to call him "fatso," "lardball," "walking meatball," or whatever insult came first, when Shikamaru, anticipating the blow-up, stepped between them.
"If you two are going to start fighting, let me know so I can quit right here and now!" he barked. "It's bad enough spending five days in this miserable place—do you think it's been comfortable for me?"
That shut them up. Both dropped their hostility immediately and turned to focus on the Nara, who, whether he wanted to or not, carried himself like a leader.
"We've barely made a kilometer, if that. From tomorrow on, we'll need to double our effort for the next four days if we want any chance of finishing on time."
Straightforward and to the point. Silence fell over them again until Yamanaka finally spoke up a few minutes later.
"Well, it's already late. If we're going to do what you say, we should at least get some rest. I'll take first watch."
"Sounds good. I'll go after you," Choji added, slipping the packet of cookies he'd been about to open back into his bag, deciding to save it for breakfast. "By the way, what do you think caused that massive quake earlier? Something tells me it had to do with Trunks."
It was obvious. They were all thinking the same thing.
"If Asuma-sensei finds out we split up, he won't be happy," Shikamaru muttered, lying down with his hands tucked behind his head, trying to relax. They trusted Trunks' strength completely, so they weren't worried for his safety. Whatever had caused that earthquake, they knew it couldn't have done him much harm.
"If that happens, we'll just tell him it was his idea," Ino replied casually, drawing a kunai as she prepared to stand guard. "Trunks flew off and left us behind, even though we begged him not to. Three against one—we'll win that argument easily."
"You're unbelievable," Shikamaru sighed in exasperation, not even moving from his spot. "Sure, Choji and I agreed to it, but if it weren't for you, he wouldn't have gone. And now you've got the nerve to put all the blame on him."
"Oh, please. It was his idea. And what do you mean it was because of me? All I did was say I trusted him! Big deal!"
"That's not like you," he said, finally sitting up to look her straight in the face. He hated having to give up his comfortable position, but this needed saying. "I can't believe you don't see it. Haven't you noticed how much Trunks cares about what you think? Honestly, I think he's nuts, but for some reason, he likes you. If you tell him to do something, he'll do it. So yeah, it is your fault he went."
Slowly, Ino's shocked expression gave way to one of pure amusement. Before long, she was laughing out loud, her laughter echoing through the empty woods. If they hadn't been so far away from the other teams, someone would've discovered them for sure. Even Team 7, with one member unconscious and the other two bickering about Goten, was already further ahead.
"Well, I'm not surprised. I am gorgeous. No matter how I act, guys will always end up falling for me, one way or another! Hohoho!" she declared, closing her eyes and hiding her smug little laugh behind her fingers. For a moment, she looked uncannily like Bulma. "In fact, I've just come up with the solution to all our problems!"
Ino wasn't stupid, but both Choji and Shikamaru got a bad feeling about whatever "brilliant plan" she thought she had.
"Tomorrow, we'll stop hiding and just travel normally. If we run into another team, all I'll need to do is let down my beautiful hair and they'll be speechless! Of course, I'll add a few tricks from my endless arsenal of charm—a wink here, a sexy smile there—and bam! They'll hand over their scroll without a fight. And if not, you two can knock them out while they're distracted. Then you can thank me later."
Both boys stared at her with beads of sweat running down their necks, stunned at her vanity and immaturity. She even struck poses, demonstrating how she'd supposedly charm her enemies.
"That'll be enough to get us the scroll. And if not, well, I'll make it work. I always do."
"Uh… Ino… you do know not everyone has the same taste, right? And even if they did, I still don't think that's a great idea," Shikamaru said as gently as possible, not wanting to set her off.
But instead of arguing, she simply stood and walked out of the hollow tree like it was nothing.
"Nonsense, it'll work. I've done it plenty of times before, and I always get what I want," she lied, sitting on a nearby rock with her kunai in hand, ready for watch duty.
Choji and Shikamaru just looked at each other, shrugged, and lay down on the floor of their makeshift shelter without saying a word.
As the minutes ticked by, Ino sat smiling like an idiot, lost in thought. She wanted to believe it was just her imagination, but after hearing Shikamaru confirm Trunks' obvious interest in her, she couldn't help but feel a strange sort of pride, swelling her already oversized ego. Still, her heart was set on Sasuke—and on making sure that "forehead girl" didn't steal him away.
But she had to admit it: Trunks wasn't bad either. He wasn't like Sasuke physically, but that didn't make him any less attractive. He had that same sharp, piercing gaze—the one he inherited from Vegeta—that made him look manly, even a little mysterious.
Now that she thought about it, Trunks really was a mystery. His past was still unclear, but ever since she peeked into his mind, she hadn't stopped thinking about that pink monster and Trunks' connection to it. She realized before anyone else in the shinobi world just what kind of life he'd led. He'd been a fighter since childhood. A real warrior. This exam must've felt like some childish game to him.
Maybe Kakashi and Asuma knew the basics of his origins, his race, and a few details here and there. But they couldn't possibly imagine the kind of enemies he'd faced at such a young age. And to Ino, that made him far more interesting than she'd ever expected. Maybe even… special.
"I knew it! Trunks likes me! Ha! I am gorgeous!" she thought, wearing a smug, self-satisfied grin at the idea that she, and no one else, had caught his attention.
That alone made her feel special.