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“So why didn’t you fight back Stupid! If he was a Bad Guy, all you needed to do was punch him like really hard then everything is fixed!”
“It’s not that simple…”
“Come ON, it’s always that simple. If you suck so much, maybe dad can fix it for you and we can just wish Mom back for you too.” Kid Trunks rolled his eyes at how dramatic this adult version of him would get.
The older Trunks clenched his fists. But no. It’s just a child. He knows, but he can’t know what it’s like in the Future. “We don’t have the Dragonballs, we don’t have any more wishes.”
“Ugh that sounds just like your future! So bor-ing! Why can’t you be strong like me? I trained a whole Week when we fought Buu, so uh not to brag but uh I’m, like, really strong. Do you even know how to do Super Saiyan 3?”
Mirai Trunks’ hands whitened behind him, clenching. The fear and pain he’s gone through, was really nothing to this version of him. “I guess you’ll just have to trust me on this, kid.”
The boy’s dander flared, being called out as a kid by this taller Lame version (?) of himself was just the worst ! “HA! Maybe we should ask Auntie 18 about it, I hear that you’re scared of her! Maybe you’re just a big baby!”
Memories of blood and screaming, and Trunks could not take this child’s talk any longer.
~
Trunks’ laughter stopped abruptly with a whuff noise as the foot of his elder self slammed into his stomach and launched him thirty feet across the Capsule Corp grounds. The young boy slammed into the grass, creating a rut in the meticulously kept lawn.
He sat upright, still gulping for breath, eyes fixed furiously on his older self. No one got the drop on Trunks and got away with it.
“ Fine. You always seemed like a wuss anyhow. Let’s see how you fight me at full power!” Immediately he powered up to Super Saiyan and rushed his future self. Time seemed to slow as he got closer and saw the look in his future self’s eyes. A shiver of fear rushed through him. He saw eyes like that on his dad sometimes— usually right before his dad tried to kill someone.
As if sensing his distraction, Mirai Trunks’ hand slammed down and almost put him headfirst into the yard again. Trunks dodged aside with milliseconds to spare and launched a punch at his older self’s side, only to be blocked and have his punch caught easily. Like it was nothing.
Mirai Trunks’ expression was imperceptible. Except those cold, cold eyes.
“I heard all about how you dealt with Buu.”
He threw Trunks high into the air and blasted after him— oh crap his hair had turned yellow — the sudden rumble of power making Trunks take off at full speed to avoid his counterpart.
“Yeah, we kicked his ass!” he shouted back at Mirai Trunks, sounding braver than he felt and launching a beam of energy at his face. Mirai Trunks slipped past it easily and was suddenly right in front of him—
“I heard how Father died. And how Mom died. And I heard about how you failed. Piccolo told me everything .”
A barrage of energy blasts sent Trunks scrambling for altitude.
“You couldn’t stop Buu. All you did was delay the inevitable. In the end Goku and Dad had to come save you. And hell, you didn’t even have the excuse of no Dragonballs.”
Trunks hated, hated, hated how those words made him feel.
“SH-SHUT UP!” he shouted, firing a much larger energy beam at his future self. Trunks glanced it away from him like it was a rubber ball.
Future Trunks studied him. His eyes had lost some of their coldness. Now he seemed… tired. “You’re just like me, I think.”
“NO I’M NOT! I’M BETTER THAN YOU!” All the horrible memories were flooding back. Every moment of terror, and helplessness and frustration— and he knew, he knew , Mirai Trunks was right—
“Trunks.”
“I-I’m b-better… I’m not like you…” He hung in the air, feeling hot tears running down his cheeks. He hated himself for the pathetic display. Without Goten, he was nothing special, and even with Goten they hadn’t been able to stop Buu from rampaging across the world and killing what remained of their family.
A warm hand landed on his head, gently running through his silky hair. He looked up at his future self and was struck by how old the young man seemed.
“Remember how it all felt. You want to be better than me? Then be better.”
Trunks burst into tears, not entirely sure why, and his future self quietly embraced him, allowing him to get snot and tears onto his shirt.
They allowed Bulma to yell at them and quietly sat down for dinner with no further word on what had happened between them, but Vegeta noticed a marked change in his son’s behavior towards (also his) future son. A sort of quiet respect, some kind of acknowledgement between them. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened but based on the ki blasts he’d felt earlier that day, it seemed the little brat had finally learned some respect for his betters.