Hello, Readers!
Today, I brought you a bonus chapter: Naíma's future!
Yes, this is a chapter that tells the story of the timeline devastated by the Androids, from which Trunks came through the time machine. It's a bonus because it will be the only chapter of this story narrated by another character besides Lettie and Piccolo, and no one better than our dear Naíma, right?Before you start reading, I want to recommend that you listen to a song that inspired me a lot to write this chapter, which was based on the movie "The History of Trunks". The song is called "Swan Lake (Epic Trailer Version)", by Hidden Citizens. The song is available on YouTube and Spotify.
Afterwards, tell me about your reading experience.
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NAÍMA
I was dancing on the ruins of a building destroyed by the Androids.
In my headphones, a tragic and beautiful classical music accompanied my steps. Ahead of me, the sunset painted the sky with blood colors, announcing the end of another hopeless and destruction-filled day in my timeline.
With each movement of my body synchronized with the bows of the violins and the blowing of the brass, my last memory of my parents lit up before me. I was only four years old at the time, but the memory was vivid.
We were at Kami-sama's Lookout, but he was no longer there. Daddy had fused with him and become very powerful. I managed to escape from my nanny, Mr. Popo, and sneaked through the silent corridors of the Lookout, lowering my Ki as much as I could, as Daddy had taught me.
Hidden behind a marble pillar, I saw them, half-illuminated by the sunlight that entered the Lookout's windows. Mommy was floating to be at Daddy's eye-level, whispering incomprehensible words to each other. They were both touching their foreheads, holding hands, and their faces showed deep pain and anguish. After talking for a while, Daddy cupped Mommy's face and they exchanged a sweet, tender kiss.
It was then that they spotted me and I couldn't hide any longer.
"Naíma!" Mommy whispered, frightened, coming to meet me and bending down to my level. "What are you doing here?"
"You were supposed to be with Mr. Popo, young lady," added Daddy, bending down next to her.
"It's just..." I looked away, crumpling my dress with my nervous hands. "I wanted to see you guys before you left to fight the Andwoids. What were you talking about?"
Mommy and Daddy glanced at each other with a little smile.
"We were planning our wedding," answered Daddy.
"Oh!" I exclaimed excitedly. "Can I be the bridesmaid?"
"Yes." Mommy smiled. "But we're not having a party. It'll be a simple celebration for just our family and closest friends."
"Daddy, can you make me a really pwetty dress?"
"Sure."
"And after that," Mommy stroked my face, "the three of us will live together at home. I promise."
"Yay! Will I finally get a little sibling?"
"Two siblings, if you want," replied Daddy, and we all laughed.
We slowly stopped, and the pleasant atmosphere gave way to an uncomfortable silence. Fear fell upon us. I swallowed hard and felt a great tightness in my chest.
"D-Do you think you'll be able to defeat the Andwoids?" I expressed my fear. "You'll be able to, won't you, Daddy? You'll win, right? You're stwonger now!"
It was Daddy's turn to stroke my cheek. "I'll do my best to defeat this evil and protect you both. I promise."
Mommy then hugged me and I heard her voice choked in my ear, "My dear, listen to me carefully. Even if everything seems lost or you can't see any way out, there's still hope. No matter what happens to us." She made me look into her eyes and concluded, "Don't give up on fighting."
"And most importantly…" Daddy also hugged me. "Never listen to the Enemy's voice."
After that, they both stood up to leave the Lookout. Before they disappeared from my sight, they turned to me.
"Take care of yourself, my daughter." Mommy smiled.
"We'll be back soon." Daddy nodded.
I never saw them again. They and all the other warriors were killed that day, except for Gohan. The promise that we would live together was never fulfilled.
And now, about thirteen years later, after reliving that memory, I fell to my knees on top of the ruins of that building and cried bitterly, missing my parents. The song in my headphones reached its peak, reflecting the state of my soul.
Hope... That was a word that every day I felt more distant from our reality. Where could I find hope in a world taken over by chaos?
Seeing my troubled spirit, the Enemy spoke, "Your parents abandoned you. They were nothing more than liars and–"
"SHUT UP!!!" I shouted, and his voice faded.
Enough dancing for today. It was getting late and the cold night breeze was blowing the white lab coat I was wearing over a set of old, worn-out clothes. It was hard to get new clothes when you lived in a devastated place full of rubble.
I flew off and headed back to our secret base: what was left of Capsule Corporation, Bulma's company. The place that once had dozens of employees working non-stop to bring the best technological products to the world, was now falling apart, serving as a shelter for the only four people who lived there: me, Bulma, Trunks and Gohan.
When I got to the kitchen, I found my cousin Gohan, wearing his typical uniform identical to the one Uncle Goku wore, looking out the window at the nightfall. In fact, if it weren't for his short hair, I would say he was an exact copy of his father. Physically, of course, but in personality, he was exactly like my mother. Always very calm and kind. Sometimes, I could hardly believe that he was already an adult over twenty years old.
Trunks, however, was sitting at the dinner table, in tears.
"What happened?" I went to him, concerned. "Why are you crying? Oh, no... Did you disobey your mother again and run away to snoop on the Androids?" I glanced at Gohan, who confirmed it with a grimace of someone who had already been through that situation many times.
"It's because I feel humiliated, Naíma!" cried Trunks. "I can't allow these Androids to keep causing people so much sadness. I NEED to get stronger to defeat these bastards!!!" He turned to my cousin, "Listen, Gohan, I beg you to give me a more severe training than before!" He stood up, resolute. "If I just stand here and do nothing, I'll never be able to forgive myself! I'm the only unproductive here. Mom and Naíma have the time machine and you, Gohan, are always trying to fight the Androids. As for me, I'm just walking around and feeling useless! Come on, please! Train me more! You know I have warrior blood. I inherited it from my father!"
Gohan looked at me with a half smile. "What do you think, Naíma?"
I let out a long sigh and shrugged, smiling back. "Well, you know how Trunks is. When he gets an idea in his head, nothing in this world will make him give up. Besides, if I disagreed, I would be going against everything my parents taught me about the importance of training, wouldn't I?"
"Yes..." Gohan got a nostalgic expression. "Today, I would be nobody without Mr. Piccolo's teachings and Aunt Lettie's affection. I miss them a lot. You won't remember it, Naíma, because you were only a baby, but it was your mother who convinced mine that my training was as important as my studies. It was thanks to Aunt Lettie's advice that I'm still standing, because I trained hard to become stronger and stronger. But you, Trunks…" Gohan walked until he stopped in front of him. "You're still not as strong as you think. You're only thirteen and you're very impulsive. But this attribute is good, in the right measure, so I'm going to train you."
Trunks' face lit up. "Really?! Wow, thank you so much! You can be sure that I'll do my best!"
I got up from my chair and stroked his purple hair, saying, "I bet all this excitement will make you hungry! I know the Saiyans' stomachs pretty well." We laughed and I continued, "By the way, where's Bulma? She's out to buy food, right?"
Before the boys could answer, Bulma's voice echoed through the corridors of Capsule Corporation, calling her son's name.
"Eek, my mother's here!" Trunks wiped his tears with his sleeve. "Guys, please don't tell her anything. You know how much she doesn't like these matters."
Trunks quickly sat back down at the table, pretending to read a book; Gohan went to the window to admire the view; and I opened the kitchen cabinets and began to put into practice the culinary skills that my mother had taught me in the short time she had been with me. Soon, Bulma appeared at the door, carrying packages with fresh food, a rarity these days.
"Oh, there you are, Trunks," she said. "I was so worried. I thought you had gone to the city."
I didn't even dare look at her, while Trunks stuttered nervously. Over the years, Bulma had lost her adventurous spirit due to the Androids, and gradually acquired a strict discipline against any kind of involvement with them that could put our lives at risk, especially her son's.
"I imagine everyone is hungry!" She approached me. "Naíma, dear, your help will be of great value. I've got no creativity for dinner today."
"Sure!" I took off my lab coat and put on a kitchen apron instead. "What did you manage to buy?"
While I was rummaging through the packages of food, Bulma turned to the boys and said, in an authoritative tone, "Oh, and a reminder for you both: anything dangerous is forbidden!"
I glanced at Gohan and Trunks, and we all acquired a confused expression. It was as if Bulma could guess the conversation we just had.
We had a pleasant and, above all, very filling dinner. The boys, like the good Saiyans they were, stuffed themselves until they couldn't eat anymore. That made Bulma remember Goku, and she reinforced my opinion that Gohan was increasingly resembling his father physically. Unfortunately, I didn't have much contact with my Uncle Goku due to his premature death from a heart disease, but his appearance and aesthetics were pretty vivid in my memory.
"I really wanted to be as strong as my father." Gohan played with the fabric of his fighting uniform. "That's why I made this outfit myself. But it seems it didn't work that much." He chuckled nervously.
"Well, I heard through some rumors in town that you challenged the Androids ALL BY YOURSELF." Bulma handed him a bowl full of rice. "Isn't that true? I confess that I admire you for that, Gohan."
"Yeah… I… Well… I…" He scratched the back of his head.
"Yes, it's true," I replied as I took another roast out of the oven. "Gohan is the only one who can face the Androids. I have hopes you will defeat them, cousin."
"So have I..." he said, uncertainly.
"But we have a big problem." Bulma twisted her lips in a dissatisfied grimace. "Even though I admire you, I'm having problems with Trunks." She glared at her son. "Because he wants to be like you and tries to copy you. Gohan, please tell him not to do that, it's too dangerous!"
Trunks choked on his food as a heavy atmosphere fell over us. Poor Bulma... I understood her concern, but her rigid behavior prevented her son from unleashing his full Saiyan potential.
That night, we finished dinner in silence.
Gohan kept his promise and trained Trunks. Hidden from Bulma, of course. I helped them out a bit. Since we were both busy building the time machine, I tried my best to keep her in our big lab, sometimes creating silly problems here and there just to distract her when she thought about talking to her son, who was probably already far away training on some inhospitable beach.
So, at night, when everyone had already eaten dinner and Bulma had gone to bed, the three of us would get together to report on our progress: me with the time machine and the boys with the training.
My progress was always the slowest, because building a time machine from scratch was no joke. Besides the whole complex issue of the time travel itself, we needed to find the materials needed to build the machine. It was a long-term project.
As for the boys' training, the progress was faster, but it also had its difficulties. Trunks couldn't turn into a Super Saiyan, and that frustrated him a lot. Gohan and I tried to comfort him, claiming that it was hard and that it required a very strong trigger, but still, for Trunks, it was unacceptable.
I've never seen a boy with as much drive and determination as him. I bet Daddy would've loved to train him, for he would be an excellent student for his strict discipline.
Oh, I could even see the scene! Daddy on one side yelling at Trunks to do five hundred push-ups, while on the other side, Mommy tried to make him go easy on the poor boy and offered him some pie or cake as a reward for his effort. Of course, Gohan and I would be laughing and making fun of the whole situation (and also devouring Mommy's treats).
Our secret plan was going very well, until the day came when we suffered a major setback.
I had spent the entire day in the lab with Bulma while the boys trained in secret. We had the habit of always leaving the radio on to listen to the news, and that afternoon, the speaker desperately reported a surprise attack by the Androids on an amusement park in a nearby city.
"Oh, no!" exclaimed Bulma, distressed. "I wonder if Gohan is there!"
I couldn't answer her and just kept straightening my long hair, overcome with anxiety. It was obvious that Gohan would be there, but worse than that, was that Trunks would be there too.
He wasn't ready to face the Androids yet. Any confrontation between them could be fatal.
"Where's Trunks?" Bulma dialed her son's room extension on the lab phone while tapping her foot on the floor. "Oh!!! He's not answering!"
It was then that her gaze met mine, and I froze.
"Naíma..." She walked slowly toward me, with her typical authoritative tone. "What are you hiding from me, young lady?"
"I-I... Uh... I-I..." I stuttered, looking for anything that could distract her in that lab, but deep down, I knew that nothing would be enough.
Bulma suddenly stopped and turned pale.
"Please..." she whispered. "Don't tell me Trunks is at the attack's site."
I grimaced in an expression of pain and agony. "F-Forgive me…" I lowered my head. "Please, forgive me."
"Answer me!!!" she ordered. "Is Trunks there or not???"
"Yes, probably…" I replied, but soon added, "I-I don't know! It depends on whether they were training near the amusement park or not."
The paleness on Bulma's face gave way to an angry blush. "TRAINING?!?! YOU MEAN THEY WERE TRAINING, AND WITHOUT MY CONSENT??? NAÍMA, HOW COULD YOU DO–"
We were interrupted when we heard Trunks desperately shouting our names in the lobby of Capsule Corporation. We exchanged terrified looks and ran out of the lab.
When we found the boys, we gasped in horror. Trunks, with his clothes torn and dirty, was carrying my unconscious cousin on his back.
Gohan was missing an arm.
A grotesque wound showed an amputation, surely caused by some strong explosion. My blood froze.
"WHAT HAPPENED?!?!" squealed Bulma and I ran to help them.
"W-W-We went to face the A-Androids at the a-amusement park…" Trunks was shaking from head to toe, livid. "And G-Gohan protected me so that I wouldn't get h-h-hurt!!!"
"Quick!" I grabbed Gohan's legs while Trunks supported his torso. "Let's get him to the infirmary!"
"I'm going to call a doctor!" Bulma ran down the corridor.
Luckily, Gohan would be fine. The doctor said it was a very serious injury, but he managed to close it in an emergency surgery in our infirmary.
After the surgery, we all sat around Gohan's sleeping bed.
"I already know everything that happened," Bulma said to her son in a stern tone. "I know you went to fight alongside Gohan. I'm really disappointed. With you three. You've been deceiving me all this time, training out of my sight, haven't you?"
Trunks and I lowered our heads. There was no way to hide it anymore.
"I'm sorry, Bulma..." I replied. "We didn't mean to hurt you."
"Mom, try to understand!" added Trunks. "I need to become as strong as Gohan to fight the Androids too."
"But at what cost?!" Bulma pointed at Gohan. "Look what happened to him!"
"That happened because I'm still weak and I couldn't defend myself!" Trunks' voice was choked. I felt very sorry for him. He certainly blamed himself for the atrocity that happened to his Master.
There was silence.
With affection, I took Bulma's hands. "Trunks needs this training. Two warriors are better than one. Your son is still young, that's true, but he has incredible potential and, on top of that, he has Saiyan blood. Please, Bulma, let him train."
Bulma looked from one to the other. Her internal conflict was clear. Finally, she let out a long sigh and replied, "You really are your mother's daughter, Naíma. Oh, if only the other warriors were alive!"
I couldn't help but smile a little sadly, and Bulma continued, "Okay. I let you train with Gohan, my son. But first, he needs to recover well. Naíma and I hope that soon, the time machine will be ready, and then, you will be able to go back to the time when the warriors were alive."
"Do you think that, if I travel back in time, we will be able to change our future, Mom?" he asked.
Bulma and I exchanged anxious looks.
"Well..." I said. "We are not sure about that, yet."
"N-No?" he replied, scared.
I sat up straighter and replied, "There's a possibility that your time travel will create a new timeline, instead of altering ours. If you go back in time, two possibilities could happen: the first is that our present will actually change when you warn the warriors about the danger of the Androids. The second is that our present will remain the same, and the future that will actually change will be that of the warriors you warned in the past."
"In short," Bulma added, "with time travel, we could end up creating two timelines. Do you understand, my son?"
"Yes… I understand…" he replied in a whisper, staring at a fixed point as he assimilated all that complicated information.
"But don't be discouraged!" I patted his back. "Even if our present doesn't change at all, you have the possibility of going back to the past and training with all the warriors. Wouldn't that be wonderful? I envy you. At least you'll be able to see your father again."
"Oh!!!" Trunks smiled. "That's right! I'd forgotten about that!"
"Don't get too excited, my son," Bulma sighed, dejected. "Back then, your father was a very difficult man to deal with. It's better to lower your expectations."
"Well, Trunks…" I said. "If Vegeta doesn't want to train with you, I bet my mom or dad will gladly do it. Either way, it'll be an amazing experience for you. I'm sure you'll come back much stronger and, finally, you and Gohan will be able to defeat those scum Androids once and for all!"
Trunks gave me a big smile, however, when he opened his mouth to reply to me, Gohan began to agonize in his sleep, "Ah!!! Dang it!!! Scoundrel Androids!!!
Poor Gohan. Even in his dreams, he fought with the Androids.
It took my cousin a week to recover from the unexpected amputation of his arm. It was a slow process, since he gave the last Senzu Bean to Trunks when he went to save him. From now on, they would need to be cautious.
During his recovery, I never left my cousin's side, reciprocating all the care he had shown me since I was orphaned. After the death of my parents and the other warriors, Gohan practically raised me, becoming like a loving and protective older brother. My Aunt Chi-chi was unfortunately killed in one of the Android attacks, and then, Bulma took us under her roof and also took care of us, after all, even Kami-sama's Lookout was destroyed, taking with it my beloved nanny Mr. Popo.
Gohan and I had lost our parents in a sad and terrible way, however, we were grateful to have Trunks as our little brother and Bulma as our new mother.
Even though Trunks now had Bulma's approval to train with Gohan, he began to face another difficulty: he could not turn into a Super Saiyan at all.
It was painful to watch him work so hard in training that he would almost passed out from exhaustion. He tried and tried and tried, but he could not transform. Gohan, despite being a strict Master, never failed to show compassion for the boy's difficulties.
I tried to lift their spirits, bringing some nice food for the boys during training, but still, Trunks would always come back at the end of the day with a dejected and defeated expression. It was clear how much he demanded of himself, carrying a weight much greater than he could bear.
"It won't be long now, Trunks", said Gohan one afternoon, when we were resting on top of a rock formation overlooking a large city. "I worked hard to become a Super Saiyan. You have to be furious. I only managed to transform when I saw Mr. Piccolo, Aunt Lettie, Krillin, and all the other warriors being killed. I was so angry that I couldn't control myself."
Sometimes, I forgot that Gohan witnessed the warrior's massacre, including the death of my parents. I admired his behavior a lot. Even after living through so many atrocities, his mind and spirit remained strong and resilient.
"Besides," he continued, "you have Saiyan blood from your father, Trunks. I'm sure you'll be able to do it soon. Don't rush, you'll be much stronger than me." Gohan turned to me and joked, "I bet even Naíma can turn into a Super Saiyan, if she tries hard enough. And you're human!"
We laughed a lot. It was good.
BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!! — A large yellow explosion suddenly appeared in the middle of the city, leaving us blind for a moment.
"Oh, no!" I exclaimed and we jumped up, stunned.
"I can't believe it!!!" shouted Gohan. "The Androids have reached here??"
Trunks and I barely had time to respond when, in a fit of rage, Gohan turned into a Super Saiyan and prepared to flew off.
"No!!!" Trunks intervened, holding him by his single arm. "There's no way you can fight them all by yourself!!!"
"Stay here and take Naíma home," ordered Gohan. "It could be very dangerous, understand?"
"I'm not staying here!" objected Trunks. "If you're going, I'm going with you! I'm strong enough to fight!"
"Think about it!" replied Gohan. "I already told you not to underestimate the power of the Androids!"
"Gohan, I promise I won't get in your way!" begged Trunks. "I want to fight by your side! Please, let me help you!!!"
I looked from one to the other, my heart racing in distress. We were at an impasse, and the screams of terror from the people of the city were already reaching our ears.
Gohan then gazed deeply at me. Without needing to say a single word, I understood what he would do next. A chill ran through my body.
"Alright, Trunks." Gohan's frown disappeared and he smiled gently. "I know how you feel. Are you ready?"
"Yes!"
And then, out of nowhere, Gohan struck Trunks in the nape, who fainted, falling to the ground next to me. Open-mouthed, I stared at my cousin, who turned to me. Now, his gaze was one of deep sadness.
"Naíma, please take him home. He's not ready yet. Trunks is our last hope. If he dies, there will be no more warriors to defend the Earth."
"Wh-What are you saying?!" I was shaking all over. "Of course there will still be warriors to defend the Earth: YOU!"
For the second time, Gohan didn't need to say the words for me to understand what was going on in his mind.
"N-No…" I took a step back. "Don't say you think that… this time, y-you won't come back…"
"Naíma..." Gohan put his single hand on my shoulder. "One day, it will happen. Deep down, you know that."
But I refused to believe it.
"Listen," he continued firmly, "in a few years, Trunks will probably be the only warrior capable of defeating the Androids." He then gave me a little smile. "And I'm counting on your help to do that. Make him keep training and never let him forget Aunt Lettie's words. Don't lose hope."
We gazed at each other for long seconds.
"Goodbye, cousin." Gohan hugged me. "Be safe."
At first, I didn't react, but a new explosion hit the city. I hugged Gohan back. He couldn't wait any longer.
"Goodbye..." I whispered, unable to contain my tears. "Thank you for everything."
And that was how I saw Gohan for the last time.
Is there any point in celebrating that, as a result of his death, Trunks finally managed to turn into a Super Saiyan? No. Of course not. However, Gohan was right. Anger is a great trigger for the transformation.
Grief took over our home, and hope almost vanished.
But not completely.
Three years had passed since that tragedy, and now I was a young adult woman. My cousin's death gave Trunks the strength to continue training, and Bulma and I dedicated ourselves to building the time machine.
And it was finished.
It was an oval ship, with four yellow legs and cylinders attached to its sides. It had room for only one passenger, who would be sheltered in a glass-enclosed cabin.
And so, after countless sleepless nights making the final preparations, the day came for Trunks to return twenty years into the past and go on his mission.
"Here, my son." Bulma handed Trunks a small vial. "This is Goku's heart medicine. Don't forget to give it to him, okay?"
"Sure, I'll do it!" Trunks placed the vial in his jacket pocket. "Well, I think I'm ready to go."
"Oh, wait a moment." I went to a closet and from there, I took out my secret project, which I had been working on for a long time.
I headed back to Trunks and handed him a sword. He and Bulma gasped in surprise.
"The time period you'll travel will be when Freeza returns to Earth," I informed him. "May this sword be useful in your fight against him."
"Wow…" Trunks took the sword out of its reddish leather sheath and revealed a long, silver weapon, supported by a sturdy black handle. His eyes then filled with emotion. "Thank you so much, Naíma."
I smiled in response, and then, I took a small capsule from my lab coat pocket and handed it to Trunks as well. "Inside this capsule, there is a minibar with the best drinks we can find in our present time. Offer them to the warriors. I'm sure they'll like them. Oh! Give the chocolate drink to my mother. She loves it. And don't be offended if my father doesn't want to drink it. He was always suspicious of everything."
The three of us laughed and finally took the time machine to the backyard of Capsule Corporation, with the help of a tow truck.
"Oh, what's that on the cylinder?" Trunks asked as he read the word "Hope" painted in black paint.
I put my hands on my hips and smiled, contemplative. "I decided to write this word so that we would never forget what my mother said, as Gohan instructed me before he died."
A mixture of longing and melancholy surrounded us as we remembered those who had already passed away. Then, we hugged each other tightly, allowing ourselves to shed a few tears, after all, everything was uncertain.
"Please, stay safe." Trunks said as we pulled away.
"Don't worry." Bulma wiped her tears on the sleeve of her lab coat. "We'll take care of one another."
"Have a good travel," I added.
And so, Trunks climbed into the time machine, turned it on and left, gradually disappearing from our sight. There was silence. Bulma hugged me from the side, and we gazed at a blue, cloudless sky. A tear ran from my eyes and fell into my mouth. Trunks would meet his deceased father and my parents, too.
That was a privilege for few.
However, for now, there was nothing left to do, just hope and pray that he would at least be able to bring a solution to our time.
Would I still have a chance of seeing my parents again, or were the hopes nothing more than fantasies that we vainly nurtured in our hearts?