Bulma sets Trunks down in his high chair, carefully scooping some baby food into a tiny spoon with one hand while holding his wiggling little body steady with the other. You’ve got the job of keeping him in place, his chubby little hands grabbing onto anything they can reach as his big blue eyes watch the spoon with a mix of excitement and suspicion.

“Here comes the airplane!” she coos, expertly zooming the spoon through the air and into Trunks’ waiting mouth with exaggerated sound effects. He squeals, half amused, half fascinated, and eagerly chomps down, making a mess as baby food ends up on his cheeks, his bib, and somehow even a little in his hair. Bulma just laughs, shaking her head. “You're a little disaster, aren’t you, Trunks?” she teases, her eyes full of warmth despite her exasperation.

After the meal, she lifts him out of the high chair, wiping his face clean before setting him on the floor with a few of his toys. He babbles happily, quickly occupied with a plush dinosaur he immediately tries to chew on. You and Bulma finally sink into the couch, a sigh of relief shared between you, the kind of content exhaustion that only comes from looking after a toddler.

“Thanks for helping out,” she says, leaning back and giving you a grateful smile, a touch of genuine warmth in her expression. “He can be such a little handful sometimes. I swear he’s got Vegeta’s stubbornness already.” She laughs, a bit ruefully, then her face softens.

Before you can say anything, she leans in and presses a soft, quick kiss to your cheek. It’s casual but sincere, a gentle gesture that leaves warmth lingering on your skin. She pulls back, her usual confident smirk replaced by something more tender and amused. “Don’t get used to it, though,” she teases, her lips twitching into a playful smile. “You’ve earned it today, but I’m not going around kissing everybody who helps me babysit. This is a limited-edition reward.” She winks with a smirk.