Chapter Text
The journey to the conservatory did not sound so bad at first. It was such a small yet important task to access the seed vault, all due to Gohan’s suggestion. Trunks never would have thought of it. Even as a child, Gohan was still so resourceful. It was Trunks’ lucky break to have a family with so many connections just to make this commission. To Trunks, this meant keeping his people from going hungry, and restoring life to his world. From the sky, the building was too hard to spot through the groves of tall pines. Locals from the nearest village pointed him to a trail close by, but it had started to snow.
Often, small groups of survivors would hide in tundras, beneath dense green canopies, in hopes of avoiding death from above. Trunks wondered if they had gotten the news. He should go looking for them when he returns, just in case. They never had much to report. The Androids would stay away from the cold more than anywhere else. Trunks could never figure out why. Did it freeze up their cybernetics somehow? Trunks shook away the thought. The Androids were dead now. He had to get used to that.
After half an hour of walking, sunlight now peered through the trees. Even though Trunks had lost sight of the path, he looked at his radar every so often to make sure he was heading the right way. In his youth, he had trained for so long in woods just like these, and he knew the sound of wildlife well.
Quietly, Trunks looked over the brush ahead to catch sight of a deer stepping into a stream of water. He caught sight of another, just across the river. As the first deer dipped its head to drink, the other deer was completely in sight, and Trunks could see an open hand offered towards it.
A gloved hand, dark sleeves, green hoodie. Trunks walked along the stream to see whose hand the deer now ate from.
A face hidden behind a curtain of pure black hair.
He didn’t need to see more.
The shrill sound of his sword leaving his scabbard was enough to scatter the deer.
Those icy eyes stared at his own hand, slowly tilting to spill small berries onto snow. Then they lifted to meet Trunks' gaze, reflecting the running water by his feet, with just the hint of irritation.
Trunks held his breath as the android moved to brush his hands onto his jeans, leaving behind small dark streaks of red below his gun holster.
Flashes of blood stains.
Trunks blinked away a sour memory as Android Seventeen turned to meet the Saiyan’s hardened stare.
“Well? Are you going to say something, or can you swing already?”
He had that same face, that fox-like gaze. Yet something was jarringly different. Didn’t matter. Seventeen was not the one who should be impatient.
Trunks took a deep breath.
Then he stepped so fast, that within half a second, his blade was against Seventeen’s neck. The sound of tree-splitting, then collapsing.
Now that he had taken a breath, he felt as though he could be heard from miles away. Everything from his exhale from his heartbeat rang throughout his body.
Trunks knew he had no reason to feel this much adrenaline, now that the android no longer posed a threat. But he was born with this instinct. Ever since he was a child, all he wanted to do was fight these monsters.
Seventeen unflinchingly looked up into his face.
“I don’t plan on dying again.”
Despite the slight smirk, there was no malicious glint in his eyes. Nothing but a spark of resistance.
Trunks calmed his breathing until he could no longer hear it drumming in his ears.
“I know dying scares you,” he finally said.
He remembered the fear in those eyes. Such exhilarating fear. Not now. There was no prey, nor the threat of being hunted. Just a ghost.
Seventeen looked down to the side.
“I’ve already done it before, Saiyan. Haven’t you?”
Trunks grimaced.
“Why give up already? You’ve beaten me before, haven’t you?
Seventeen smiled.
“I mean, you've been training, right? Trunks, is it?”
Trunks narrowed his eyes.
“How did you-?”
“Did you forget?” Seventeen’s breath huffed into the air. “Eighteen saw you that day. You and Vegeta, taking on Cell for much longer than we could. And you don’t know what being absorbed by that thing is like, do you? I could hear bits and pieces of what was happening. I was kind of rooting for you, you know?”
Trunks was taken aback. “Why?”
“Why? Because Cell had just made me eat it. So I wanted him to die. That’s why. Anyway, I’m not gonna pick a fight I can’t win.” Seventeen glanced away. “Not again. Plus, you guys could’ve just killed my sister to keep Cell from transforming, but you didn’t. If she wasn’t family, I would have called that stupid. But she is.”
Trunks paused and looked around them.
“She’s not here,” Seventeen continued with a click of his tongue. “She doesn’t like the cold.”
“You two are never apart.”
“So?”
Trunks listened, but couldn’t hear anything else but the running stream.
“Why would the cold stop her? She ran off after you- I remember–”
“Yeah, she does that. Run off. Does petty drama need to be your business, too?”
“Everything about you is my business.”
“Aw. Wish my last boyfriend was as devoted as you.”
“Everyone thinks they can trust you and her just because of Sixteen. But I don’t. Neither of you should be off the hook.”
Seventeen paused. “I didn’t realize I was on tria–”
“Don’t you hate it too?”
Seventeen tilted his head. “Hate what?”
“The cold.”
“Oh, this?” Seventeen looked down at his palm. “What makes you think that?”
Trunks lowered his sword. “...Why are you here?”
“You’re looking for the seed vault aren’t you? At the great Northern Conservation Center...” Seventeen waved his hands in a lazy flourish. “All for some big restoration project, right?”
“W-what…?” In just a single minute, Trunks had completely forgotten the task at hand. “Are you stalking me?”
Seventeen pressed a single finger against his sword and slowly pushed it to the side.
“Don’t be so full of yourself. Your little Capsule Corporation told us you were coming. We’ve been expecting you.” Seventeen unclipped a keycard from his belt and spun it around his finger. “Yeah, looks like I’m your guide.”
Trunks snatched it, certain that Seventeen was bullshitting. It said the name ‘Sev’ and a title. ‘Forestry Technician Protege.’
“You… work?”
“Yeah,” Seventeen replied. “Hey, care to rate my service review five stars after this?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Ok, so I made up the service review part.”
Then Seventeen swiftly escaped his reach by ducking below his arm.
“H-hey!”
Trunks ran after where the android vanished behind the trees.
After a moment of darting his eyes around, he jumped when they darted back to a tree where the android had a second ago not been leaning against.
“Yes?”
Trunks growled in frustration. “If you’re really my guide–aren’t you supposed to show me the way??”
“Oh I’m sorry, but last time we met you weren’t exactly keen on taking direction.”
“Your insane sister was going to murder my fa- Vegeta!”
“But she didn’t.”
“Well-” Trunks waved his sword in exasperation. “I guess that’s just fine then. I suppose I should say ‘thanks for not murdering me and my friends, what swell guys! Hope you had fun looking for Goku- who you really were trying to kill!’”
“Thanks.”
“So you admit it. You wanted to murder an innocent man in cold blood.”
“Did I?”
“You said so right to Krillin’s face. He wouldn’t lie.”
“Such honest men you are. Hey, Trunks," Seventeen lazily moved around the tree. "If you’re so distrustful of me, how come you’ve never considered that I would lie?” Trunks turned around as Seventeen moved to meet him face to face. Seventeen softly laughed at his expression. “Of course you did. But you never considered I would lie about being evil, now would you? You only like the truths that suit your black-and-white world."
"So you're saying you’re innocent?"
Seventeen turned around holding his hands behind his back. “I’m saying…” Seventeen used his foot to push snow off a stony path. “If you play nice, so will I.”
Trunks stared at the path. He made a reluctant, strained expression. “Fine. But you better not try anything to piss me off.”
The sword was sheathed.
Seventeen smiled. Now, when Seventeen walked with a prancing bounce to his hair, he stayed right in Trunks’ line of sight.
“Let me guess… I’m already halfway there?”
“More like three quarters.”
“Hmm. I’ve got 2 dimes. Got a nickel?”
“Make that ninety-nine percent.”
Trunks followed Seventeen for what could only have been ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. He could see a building ahead between the trees, in the corners of his eyes, but all he could focus on was that black hair, swaying so carelessly in front of him. He’d spent so long fighting Seventeen, that he still felt in pursuit, even now. But things were different here. And in all the nights Trunks has spent, waiting by the radio, all everyone could ever talk about was Cell. And even that died off. Everyone moved on. Everyone except for him.
Seventeen wouldn’t have settled for less than a massacre. He couldn’t live without a day of bloodshed.
Seventeen turned to smile at him. “There it is. Want a tour? Jeez. Why are you so sweaty?”
Trunks blinked and wiped his forehead. Maybe because he was expecting some kind of trap? Then they came to the entrance, and Seventeen slid his key down a reader, and the doors began to open.
A receptionist, lanky and playing with cards, made a friendly wave at Seventeen.
“Hey– you found the guy!”
A balding man in a lab coat turned around and readjusted his spectacles.
“I told you someone should’ve just driven into town to get him…”
“Would you relax?” Seventeen said, “It’s not like there’s a long line out there just to take a look at your ugly mug.”
The receptionist laughed and the scientist smacked him over the head.
Trunks balked in bewilderment as Seventeen led him past the others.
“I thought- I mean- you weren’t kidding?”
“You thought–what–that I just stole the key from some guy just to play a prank on you?”
“Um...”
“What have I done to deserve such animosity?”
“Do I really need to say every single reason?”
“Can you stop acting like you know me?”
“No.”
Seventeen spun on his heel.
“Fine. You win the “most annoying” contest. You want a medal?”
“No.”
“For your information, I could tell them to just ban you forever. You’ve only just threatened a staff member about a hundred times.”
Trunks’ brow twitched.
“You-!”
“You started it.”
Trunks’ shoulders dropped as he sighed in exasperation.
“Fine. I’ll admit to that much. But only because-”
Seventeen made a sound and crossed his arms.
Trunks begrudgingly grumbled.
“That’s what I thought. Let me clear things up, Trunks. Everything I did before was all just a game to me. I wanted to see who would win in a fight. Just that. Maybe meet up at the playground for some ‘who’s the fastest in a race’ shit.” Before Trunks could say anything, Seventeen pointed at him so sternly that it shut him up out of sheer surprise. “Don’t tell me it was stupid because I’ve already heard it. Anyway–you and your little gang of freedom fighters weren’t even players to me. I thought nothing of you. Well–nothing besides…” Seventeen’s eyes quickly looked him over and he pressed a finger to his lips. “Ha. Well. Then Cell came into the picture and it was game–over. Now I’m back to square one. And I don’t feel like playing anymore. I don’t care how much stronger you got–you can leave that Saiyan arrogance at the door or leave with nothing at all. Got it?”
“Wait a second...what’s that ‘well’ supposed to mean?”
Seventeen shook his head and turned.
“Keep up.”
Trunks staggered after Seventeen head reeling as the cyborg led him through a glass hallway. Plants and vines hung by the windows, and colorful streamers from the ceiling.
Seventeen noticed Trunks looking around and smiled to himself. When they entered the lab room, Seventeen took a packet from a nearby desk and set it on the work table, opening a binder full of charts and hastily scribbled doodles on the corners.
“The crate carries all the seeds you requested– it can capsulize for travel. And in here are the ecological restoration plans we formulated for accelerated growth. It was hard to explain your situation to the others without having seen it ourselves, so you’re going to need to take this with you and have it reviewed.”
“My situation?”
“Your world’s condition?”
Trunks was taken aback.
“Wait…Bulma really told you all that, and they believed it? Just like that?”
Seventeen hummed a sound. “Well, not quite. You actually have me to vouch for you. Again, did you think I couldn’t hear anything from inside that insect?”
Trunks felt a little embarrassed. “Then you heard–”
“Cell brag about killing you in his world? More or less. It’s hard for me to explain what being fused with that thing is like without wanting to throw up…”
Trunks balked at him.
“Why vouch for me?”
Seventeen frowned.
At that moment, an elderly man opened the lab door before them. The older researcher sipped from his coffee as he glanced between them.
“G’Morning.” He said.
“Doctor,” Seventeen greeted. He glanced at Trunks. “My mentor. Another scientist to guide my hand.” Seventeen looked displeased with himself. “You’d think I’d have enough of those…”
An ordinary old man, as old as Trunks’ own grandfather, maybe older, set down his coffee on the worktable.
“I see you are reviewing our plans. Is this the time traveler we’ve been hearing so much about?”
Trunks paled.
“How- how many people here know about that?”
“Oh don’t worry, son.” The old man chuckled. “Just us. Hardly anyone else would believe it. But I’ve seen a lot in my day, and a commission from the Capsule Corporation can hardly be passed up. Sev, show Trunks our work.”
Seventeen lightly tossed the binder into Trunks’ hand. Trunks stared at it.
“You had a hand in this?”
“What, you don’t recognize my little drawings in the corners?”
Trunks took a single look inside and snorted.
“Future Seventeen was in fact not notorious for sketching chibi bears with colored markers, no.”
Seventeen shrugged and grinned.
“See? I’m full of surprises.”
Trunks looked to the doctor. “Is he really your protege?”
“Sev? Oh, yes. One my brightest students.”
Seventeen lowered his eyes cheekily at Trunks. “See? Honor student. Read it and weep.”
Trunks gritted his teeth. “Read what?”
“Oh. I guess this.” Seventeen walked up and pointed at the page in front of Trunks with his middle finger.
Trunks glared at it, then pinched his brow. “Look, I’m not a scientist– but I know that it's going to take years for things to get back to normal. How much time will you need?”
Dr. Frappe sighed, "That depends on what we hear back from your world’s agronomists. Or ecologists- whoever. We’re not mind-readers. The plans your side sent us were detailed, but we really don’t know what we’re working with without some samples.”
When Seventeen moved, Trunks looked up to watch him move the seed packet into the crate, and pressed a button to capsule it.
“There are enough seeds in here to start a couple farms, but not enough to save a whole ecosystem. And some of this stuff is not exactly the easiest to get." Seventeen offered it to Trunks.
“Don’t tell me you’re not gonna take what you came here for just because it’s from me,” Seventeen huffed.
Trunks glanced up at that, and was taken aback by Seventeen’s sideways pout.
Seventeen pulled his hand back and crossed his arms. “Do you really think I predicted you coming here? That I sat through hours of training, research- all to sabotage you?”
Trunks shook his head. “You wouldn’t care.”
“Thank you.”
“I mean, you have plenty of other playthings to choose from. Why single me out? But that doesn’t mean I trust you now.”
Seventeen shrugged.
“You don’t have to. It’s just paperwork, Trunks. You have people on your side to peer review me all they want.”
“What if you messed with the seeds?”
Seventeen scoffed. “How, exactly?”
“You could dip them in arsenic?”
“Soooo, then what? Once they don’t grow, you’d figure it was me, and it’d be the most boring evil plot ever. Like petty-brat shit. And I’m not that petty.”
Trunks held out his hand for Seventeen to drop the capsule into. Seventeen grinned and dropped it into his grasp.
Seventeen leaned back, resting his hands against the table behind him. In a sing-song voice he said, “Looks like we’re partners~”
Trunks shook his head. “I would not call you that.”
“Parttneers. Go figure, huh? Hey– I’m not about to cross the piss-off line am I? Get that hand off your sword.”
Trunks let go of the hilt again.
“Why are you doing this? Why are you here?”
“What else should I be doing? You know- I’m not the only Red Ribbon runaway here. Ain’t that right doc?”
Dr. Frappe wiped his glasses with his coat. “Yes, some of the scientists here used to know Gero. Capsule Corps hires them and sends them here, far away from any prying eyes and scandal. A waste of good talent otherwise...”
Trunks examined him closely, but the doctor didn’t appear to be anywhere near as sinister as Gero was.
“There’s even another android ‘sibling’ of Sev’s living close by,” he added.
“I only have one sibling, doc,” Seventeen said curtly. “Gero’s other Android spawn don’t count.”
“What about Sixteen?”
Seventeen shrugged. “So we’re rejects. Doesn’t make us siblings.”
When Trunks finished processing, he exclaimed, “Another Android? I had no idea- Why didn’t they tell me this? They could have told us things about the Red Ribbon army that no one else could.”
“Maybe they didn’t want to get your hopes up,” Seventeen said. “The people here haven’t worked for the Red Ribbon since Goku was a little kid. No one could have told you anything about me or my sister, except…”
“Except for who?”
“Look, I don’t really remember her face. I just know she’s not here. A needle in a haystack for all I know. Just don’t trust any red-headed scientists you meet.” Seventeen kicked off the table. “Look, doc, this conversation is starting to drag. If you need me, I’ll be in the greenhouse.”
The doctor nodded and took a seat as Seventeen stopped by the door and glanced back at Trunks.
“You got what you came for– and the doc’s here– so I won’t stay in your hair all day. I’m not going anymore anytime soon, so you don’t have to try and hunt me down.”
Trunks narrowed his eyes in confusion as he watched Seventeen turn and leave. The older man sipped from his coffee as Trunks sat down across from him with a reeling mind.
“You alright there, son?”
“No.” Trunks choked out with a laugh. His eyes were still staring after the door. “That was Android Seventeen- and you- you were Red Ribbon too, weren’t you?”
The doctor hummed in affirmation. “I was a chief researcher. I take no pride in it. I’m sorry for Gero.”
“You knew him, didn’t you?”
“Sorry, I still haven’t confessed that to Seventeen just yet. You don’t mind keeping that between us, do you?”
“You think he’d kill you, too?”
“Seventeen? Kill me?” He grinned. “You’re a rather anxious young man, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea. Listen… I really owe you one for doing this for me.”
“Well, to be honest, I’ve been relying more on Seventeen than anyone else here. Suno and Eight help out sometimes. Officially, they’re only suppliers from a nearby village. Seventeen, though, he doesn’t stop helping. I’ve had more free time in the past month than all my saved days of time-off combined. The perks of being a cyborg, huh?”
Trunks blinked in surprise.
“You knew he was human?”
“Was?” The doctor shook his head. “Still is in my book. I’ve seen Gero’s androids before, but Sev’s emotions are not something any scientist could replicate. I would say I’m interested in learning how Gero did it, but I think it would only make me pity the boy. And he doesn’t take well to pity.”
Trunks looked down at the notes on the table, and spotted more drawings, seeds with little faces drawn on them.
“In any case,” the doctor continued, “He’s still young, and learning who he is. It’s not a good time for him to focus on the past.”
“I would want to know,” Trunks said. “The why, the how, all of it.”
“Yes well…” The doctor looked him over and nodded to himself. “You’re still young, as well.”
“It just… doesn’t make any sense. Does Seventeen really just… spend all his time here in these woods?”
The doctor chuckled.
“Of course not- he’s not that much of a workhorse. Whenever he gets the whim to slack off, he heads off to town. Or goes for a drive, and disappears for a few days.”
Trunks slumped in his chair.
“That’s exactly what worries me… I have no idea what he’s been up to. And if he’s not up to anything, then why? Seventeen is just… acting way too different from how I’m used to. And he was always with Eighteen. Even when we caught one twin alone, the other would always come out of nowhere eventually. Ever since I time traveled, they’ve been harder for me to predict. They could have crushed us from the very start. I thought for sure they’d pick one of us off– take their time weeding us down, but...” Trunks ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t understand how they think anymore. And now Eighteen’s missing, and Seventeen is off doing god knows what on the weekends.”
Frappe watched Trunks devolve into a nervous wreck with mild interest.
“You know, Seventeen isn’t always alone when he’s doing ‘god knows what on weekends.’”
Trunks looked up, puzzled.
“Eighteen?”
“Not that I know of, but sometimes he rides into Jingle Village with me or Suno and Eight. The closest city is the east capital. There are plenty of villages and towns on that road for you to investigate about him.” He pulled his cigarette out of his mouth. “I assume you’ve looked for him before?”
“You can’t just ‘look’ for the twins. I always had to rely on radio– the twins always had to make a dramatic entrance before a slaughter… Reconnaissance is all I could rely on. Those towns you mentioned…Could you show me on a map?”
The doctor nodded.
“Sure. But you know, I think what that young man really needs right now… is trust.”
“...I can’t do that. You have no idea what they’ve done- what I’ve been through. I just-”
“What if he really is just a different person?” The doctor asked. “Trauma can do that to you. Sixteen sounded like a decent young man. Someone who left a strong influence on Sev. And dying certainly isn’t something many people can understand.”
“Seventeen told you all that?”
“He needed someone to listen.”
Trunks fell silent.
Then Frappe pointed past Trunks to a square object resting high on a shelf.
“Grab that, would you?”
Trunks did, and turned it around in his hands.
“This is… an old-fashioned camera, isn’t it?”
The old-man chuckled. “A recent model- they haven’t stopped making them, you know. Despite whatever phones and robots can do nowadays.”
“R-right.”
Trunks held it out for him, but the old man shook his head.
“Not for me. Take it with you. Bring us back some pictures of what we’re working with. I’m sure it would help out a lot.”
Trunks turned it on, wondering if the pictures taken with it would even be able to travel with him.
“Thank you- I will.”
He looked through the pictures, mostly of plants, but some had facility members smiling. The last two pictures were of Seventeen in a green hoodie, sitting in the greenhouse. His expression was of surprise, the lighting through the glass had illuminated his eyes. Trunks’ eyes furrowed. There was nothing that could have ever caught Seventeen off guard, no one he couldn’t see coming.
“Do what you need to do.” Frappe said, circling spots on a map. “I won’t tell him. And whatever you do… I hope you can free yourself from your past as well.”
“...I’m not made of anything else.” Trunks raised the photo. “Where can I find the greenhouse?”
On the way out, Trunks nearly bumped into one of the staff members.
“O-oh, excuse me!” she said flustered.
“No- I was distracted- sorry,” Trunks replied hastily.
The ginger-haired woman stared after him in concern as he walked off while fretfully running a hand through his hair.
“Who was that handsome young man, doc?”
Doctor Frappe adjusted his glasses. “Oh, he’s the one Capsule Corps is making that hefty commission for. I think he’s run off to see Sev.”
“Really? That look in his eyes–” She clasped her hands together. “So determined! And he's Sev's friend?”
“They seem to have some kind of history. It would explain why Sev’s actually been doing his research lately. He’s really taking this particular commission seriously. But frankly, I think 'friends' is a bit of a stretch for those two.”
Suno tilted her head in faraway confusion. “Hm?”
The greenhouse wasn’t that hard to find, just hidden in the back upper corner of the facility.
Trunks quietly entered, searching past the hanging leaves to find him. He heard a page turn, and he caught sight of him, writing into a notebook.
Trunks took a few steps towards him, and Seventeen looked up, and there it was in real life– a look of surprise.
“Still trying to interrogate me–” When Trunks tried poking his face, Seventeen swatted his hand away. “Yes, I’m real. What are you -?” Trunks grabbed Seventeen's notebook. “Hey!” Seventeen protested but didn’t fight for it. “Can you be careful with that?”
Trunks’ mouth hung open as he looked through it. He couldn’t believe it. Seventeen really was taking notes. Drawing in the corners with leaves and bears and small faces he couldn’t make out.
“What is that?” Trunks asked on a page.
Seventeen sighed and fell back into his chair. “It’s the doc– so I’m not an artist, alright?”
Trunks dropped it and ran his hands through his hair. This was too much.
“So, all of a sudden you decide to just… be normal?”
Seventeen stood up and brushed past him, but Trunks grabbed him.
“Wait.”
Seventeen winced. Trunks quickly dropped his hand, embarrassed. Seventeen rubbed his arm and looked away, pressing his lips together.
“...Is this really all because of Cell?”
Seventeen scoffed. “Cell is dead. I’m just… getting used to my body. Again. And I didn’t have some epiphany after dying. My friend died and my sister left– I’m just figuring my life out now, is that alright with you? Or would you prefer I stick to what you’re more familiar with?”
“No… No, it’s just… I mean– I’m not sure what you’re even doing here! I never expected to find you doing...” Trunks gestured at the room. “This.”
Seventeen sighed and looked off to the side, his fingers pushing a pen back and forth.
“Sure... I get it. To be honest, I’ve never really pictured myself doing this kind of stuff, either. I guess Sixteen had that kind of influence on me.”
“Sixteen…” Trunks thought back to the android’s last words to Gohan. “Maybe I did underestimate him. His character, I mean. His death… really affected Gohan.”
“Goku’s kid… did he really stop that monster all by himself?”
Trunks nodded.
“The moment Cell took out Sixteen, he snapped. Gohan always had this… special ability to just get more energy, more strength, just out of nowhere.”
Seventeen blinked.
“I had no idea. Isn’t he like eleven?”
“Twelve.”
Seventeen laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Trunks asked with a twitching brow.
“No– it’s just… you looked so proud there. Like you’re his dad or something.”
Trunks didn’t notice that he had smiled. He quickly dropped it.
“How is he?” asked Seventeen.
“Gohan?” Trunks made a face. “His dad died.”
“I know that, genius. That’s why I asked.”
Trunks blinked. “Sorry– I’m just trying to get used to the fact that you have… feelings.”
“I don’t get it… why didn’t Goku come back too? Like we did?”
“Why do you care? Didn’t you want him dead?”
“Hey jerk– in case you haven’t figured it out, I’m trying to be caring here, alright?”
Trunks’ mouth hung open. Seventeen sighed. “Your poor little mind can’t even fathom it, huh?”
“No, I would not expect you to be caring. To people. To life in general–”
“I get it.”
“This whole situation is completely unexpected for me, in fact. So could you give me a second to process it?”
Seventeen waved a hand at him to proceed.
Trunks sighed and remembered the conversation they were having. He shook his head. “I guess… he saw himself as a magnet for trouble.”
“Goku? Oh, come on.”
Trunks shook his head. “I mean, Gohan always used to tell me his dad could do anything. But after Cell… I think the miracle worker now is all him.”
“It’s because of you, you know.” Seventeen replied, taking Trunks off guard. “That Gohan got so strong. If you never came here… none of this would be happening. So, even though you’ve been a total spaz, I owe you one…”
He said it cautiously, prepared for Trunks to take offense. Trunks couldn’t even process the words. Seventeen was praising him. Him and Gohan. Was this irony?
“You’re just messing with me, aren’t you”
“I am not.”
“You think you owe me?”
“Sure… Can’t I?”
“No, Trunks replied cautiously, “You don’t owe me anything. I never wanted to help any of you. I didn’t even want to help Sixteen when he was hurt. I never trusted him, not once.” Trunks rubbed his neck. “But Sixteen didn’t really know us either– and he still sacrificed himself. Beyond his programming, he was just a good person. So maybe… I owe him. Maybe I didn’t kill you back there because of that. Despite everything I know, I owed it to Sixteen not to.”
Seventeen met Trunk’s eyes.
“Well I’m sure you already know this, but I’m not a good person.”
Trunks huffed a sound of affirmation.
“Yeah,” Seventeen rolled his eyes, “I’m not crazy either. I just don’t really like people. I don’t like the things they do, greedily taking all the resources they can grab and leaving nothing for the rest. Humans aren’t the only Earthlings on this planet. Basically– I hate assholes.” Seventeen pulled himself up, sitting cross-legged on the table. “And if your androids were assholes, then I don’t like them either.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t your concern.”
“Ha,” Seventeen tapped his nose. “Ly-ing.”
“You…”
“Hm?”
“Forget it. I guess I’m going to have to… try to get used to you.”
Seventeen smiled and nudged Trunks with his elbow. “Oh, really? That sounds like a partnership–”
“Still not going to call it that.”
Seventeen saluted him. “Yes sir. Hey, if Gohan ever needs extra credit for school, the doc could always use another assistant.”
“Hah. I don’t think you’d be a good influence on him.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Who was that red-head you mentioned?”
Seventeen paused, and Trunks pressed further. “Are you looking for her?”
Seventeen stared at him for a moment, hesitant. “There was only ever one other scientist in Gero’s lab, and they fought all the time. I keep thinking… maybe she would do something.”
“Do something?”
Seventeen shook his head. “It was a long time ago. She stopped showing up in a lab way before Gero hit the curb. Dunno if she quit or died or what.”
“Is that your motive here? That-”
“I told you already, I’m still figuring things out. Haven’t you ever heard of letting sleeping dogs lie?”
“No. I deal with all the dogs in my way... What do the dogs mean?”
The corner of Seventeen’s lips lifted. “It means I’m not playing detective right now. In case you didn’t get the ‘needle in a haystack’ part, she’s literally vanished. And I don’t feel like tracking down anyone else after the whole fiasco.”
“Do the others know that you offed Gero?”
“Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure they would pass out at a drop of blood. There’s a reason they deserted.”
Trunks shook his head in disbelief. “I need to look into this. For all I know the damned red ribbon army has come back just to screw up my future even more.”
Seventeen wave at him dismissively. “Go ahead. Shit, search through the broom closets for all we care. Raid the underwear drawer. You got nothing on us, and you’ll get nothing. Deal with it.”
Trunks shook his head. “Just give me a day alright? I need some time to think about all this.”
Seventeen smirked. “About me?”
“Yeah, about not killing you. I mean, could just…” Trunks made a singing gesture towards him. “You know?”
Seventeen leaned forward and whispered, “I think they have anonymous groups for that. Just for impulsive Saiyans.”
Trunks snorted. “Great. Where do I sign up…”
Seventeen smirked and pointed at the door. “Five doors down.”
‘Calm.’ That was the word Trunks thought when he left. The playful nature of Seventeen had been so much more calm than the excited cruelty Trunks once endured. The coursing anger was gone, but still, his heart-rate around the cyborg had been racing, and his skin never stopped prickling.