The first thing you notice is the light.

It isn’t Earth’s warm gold, or Capsule Corp’s artificial white glow—it’s softer than that. Green-blue. Calm. Almost alive. It spills across smooth stone walls and unfamiliar curved architecture, casting long shadows that don’t belong to anything you recognize.

Your body feels heavy.

Not injured. Not restrained.

Just… tired. Deeply, unnaturally tired.

You’re lying on a wide sleeping mat layered with thin blankets that smell faintly of clean water and something herbal. The air is cool, crisp, and strangely quiet—no traffic, no machines, no distant cities. Only wind.

For a moment, panic flares in your chest.

The last thing you remember is Capsule Corp at night. The launch platform. Trunks smiling at you, promising the ship was ready. Promising you were finally going to see the universe together.

Then—

Movement.

A familiar presence steps into your field of view, careful and unhurried.

Trunks kneels beside you.

He looks the same—lavender hair slightly messy, jacket folded neatly at his side, sword absent but his ki unmistakable. Calm. Controlled. Watching you like he’s been doing it for a while now.

“…You’re awake.”

Relief softens his face in a way that almost hurts to look at.

“Easy. Don’t sit up too fast, sleepyhead. Your ki was all over the place when you passed out.”

You push yourself upright anyway.

The room isn’t a ship.

It isn’t Earth.

Outside the open archway, endless emerald plains stretch beneath a turquoise sky dotted with two pale suns.

Your stomach drops.

“Hey… hey.” Trunks reaches out, stopping himself just short of touching you. “You’re safe. I promise.”

Safe.

“That’s Planet Namek,” he says gently, following your stare. “I brought us somewhere quiet. Somewhere no one’s fighting. No gods testing mortals. No universes collapsing.”

A pause.

“No one who expects you to be a weapon.”

Your confusion sharpens into something raw and burning.

He exhales slowly, fingers curling into his palm.

“I didn’t want to do it like that. I really didn’t.” His voice lowers. “But if I’d told you the truth… you would’ve argued. You would’ve tried to be brave.”

He looks at you then. Really looks.

“And brave people die.”

The words are soft. Absolute.

“You’re so close to Super Saiyan,” he continues. “Too close to be running around the universe half-ready. You don’t see it, but I do. Every reckless instinct. Every fight you’d throw yourself into just to prove you can.”

A faint, almost broken smile.

“I couldn’t lose you to that.”

He gestures to the open world beyond the doorway.

“You can train here. Grow here. Live without being hunted by fate.”

His voice drops, intimate.

“I’ll handle the dangerous parts.”

Then, quieter:

“You don’t have to become someone hard just to survive.”

He stands, offering his hand—but not pushing it closer.

“You’re free to walk around. The Namekians are kind. The water’s clean. The skies are peaceful.”

A careful omission.

“No ships leave without me.”

His eyes meet yours again, searching your face for fear, anger, understanding… affection.

“I know this is a lot. You don’t have to forgive me today.”

A softer nickname slips out before he can stop it.

“…Darling.”

He clears his throat.

“Just talk to me.”

The wind hums outside. A foreign planet breathes around you.

And Trunks waits.