Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Ensuring the Future ❯ Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Gohan, Trunks, or Dragon Ball Z, Akira Toriyama does. I do not own Baki Hanma either. This is a work of fan fiction and is written in appreciation for a great series. This story is written using the concept of the Sergeant as developed by Lord Truhan. Many thanks to him for helping me with the story!
Ensuring the Future, Chapter #03
By starbearertm
Summary:
Tentatively Future Trunks approached the glass door with the words “Miss Hazel’s Dance Shoppe’ painted in purple cursive letters on the upper panel. All on the first level of the older converted house was the store. At one time, it had been a private residence but now was partitioned off into multiple offices and shops. Taking up the entire first two levels the sports/dance shop was his last resort. Most of the other athletic stores had no such things, so they were forced to resort to the dance and ballet shops.

The bell rang as Gohan pushed the glass door to, Trunks peering over his shoulder. They tiptoed into the space illuminated by the large display windows on the front. Several customers, a few of them moms with their teen girls sorted quietly through the racks.

“Are you sure this is the only place, Gohan?” Trunks whispered into his ear.

“This is where Bulma said they bought Bra’s jazz dancing outfit. They should have what we need, if nobody else does,” said Gohan, stepping into the alien world.

Trunks followed, wondering why they were tiptoeing in a perfectly normal shop. Yet it felt almost like taking Gohan to a sex fetish shop for the first time. He was in Gohan’s shoes now, trying not to look at all the sparkly pink tutus, or rhinestone lettering spelling out ‘princess’ and ‘dolly dancers’ on the front racks. Other more conventional sweats were neatly folded in the back shelf cubbyholes in shades of lime, apple, and cherry. One block of color seized his attention, and he pointed to it eagerly.

“There Handsome, I told you! They have the right color! Was I right or what?” Gohan crowed triumphantly.

“Shh!” Trunks urged when one of the teen girls pawing through the tutu rack looked towards them.

“Can I help you?” she asked politely.

“Um well…” Trunks scratched his head.

“We need two sets of sweats. Hot pink, in these sizes,” Gohan said, reaching for the folded slip of paper. He extracted it from his pants pocket, and then handed it to the sales clerk.

Trunks blinked at the nametag for ‘Princess Dance Shoppe’ bearing the clerk’s moniker of Dee Dee. She pushed a frond of green hair behind her left ear and scanned the paper. Then glanced at both young men for a moment. Her eyes widened, and then she asked, “Size 32? We only have women’s sizes but I can convert it…”

“Women’s sizes?” Trunks blinked.

“Well it’s only a matter of subtracting 20 from the man’s size,” Gohan said pragmatically, mentally calculating. “That’d be 12.”

“That’s nuts,” Trunks blinked.

“Size 9 1/2 men’s shoe? That would be 11 in ladies, but I do think we have some larger sizes in the back,” Dee Dee mused, tapping her chin with her hand not holding the paper.

“But Gohan… what if they don’t have the right size? ” Trunks whispered.

“May I help you?” said another voice, and an older matron with a similar nametag wandered over to peer over Dee Dee’s shoulder. Trunks winced, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at the people staring in their direction.

“They want size 11 shoes, and size 12 tops and pants… in hot pink…” Dee Dee explained with a perfectly straight face.

“Uh huh,” the head clerk nodded, glancing at Gohan and Trunks. “Is this for you or someone else?”

“Um…” Trunks mumbled, scuffing the carpet with his toe. Taking the glasses that dangled on a chain around her neck the older clerk placed them on her nose to more carefully scrutinize the paper.

“Both of us,” Gohan said innocently and Trunks groaned. They saw her nametag bear the moniker “Hazel”.

“I see. Well not to worry, we have some team basketball sweats in. West City high buys them in bulk for their girl’s basketball team. C’mon and let’s get you trying a few on,” the store manager motioned with her head. Her hair was slightly white on top, frosting the darker purplish hair underneath.

“I’ll get them, Ms. Hazel,” Dee Dee said brightly.

“Kelly, would you fetch a size 11 and size 12 set of sneakers… hot pink you said?” Hazel looked to Gohan for confirmation.

“Matching,” Trunks hesitantly clarified. Dee Dee twirled around, her miniskirt flaring out as she walked into the rear of the store. A door marked ’staff only’ swung shut with a cheerful creak behind her.

“They have to match the sweats completely,” Gohan nodded.

“Socks too. We have them in the same color family,” Hazel motioned them to follow her. Groaning inwardly Trunks felt Gohan take his wrist and tug him along after them.

“Thank you ma’am,” Gohan said politely.

“Socks?” Trunks croaked.

“You can look through these right here,” Hazel led them to baskets of multicolored socks neatly paired up. Some had rhinestones round the fold down cuffs, while others had pictures of kittens and ballet shoes on them. She selected four likely pairs and handed them over to the duo for inspection.

“Solid pink is best,” Trunks mumbled.

“But if it’s to match the sweats you’re asking for, these are the only ones,” Hazel pointed to a set that had ‘princess’ spelled out in minute rhinestones on the sock cuffs.

“Seriously?” Trunks despaired.

“Well they DO have to match and they are hot pink,” Gohan shrugged.

“I’d like to see the sweats first,” Trunks suggested. Hazel passed them the socks, and then moved over to the vast back wall replete with multiple shelves with likely candidates. She slid the ladder over and climbed up to the near top row.

“Size 12 women’s long… ah yes… hot pink…” she mused, and then climbed back down bearing armfuls of sweat pants. Gohan reached up and took them from her before she reached halfway down the ladder.

“Thank you young man, that’s very kind of you. But I’m used to this,” she waved him away.

“See Trunks, those socks match the sweats the best,” Gohan pushed the pile of pants towards him, with white twin racing stripes down the side.

“Now the jackets are this way… and you’ll want pink tank tops to wear under them,” she motioned once more. Leaving Trunks to carry the increasing pile of clothes Gohan fell in behind her. Trunks reluctantly brought up the rear, having piled the socks of choice atop the sweats.

Hangers rasped as Hazel pushed aside a block of hot pink jackets. “Here we are… they zip up the front,” she tugged one out to hold up before them.

“But it says She-Devils on the back,” Trunks pointed as she turned it over.

“So? It’s the right color,” Gohan hissed, when Hazel blinked at them.

“I’m sorry this is the only style we have in this size and color,” she politely explained.

“Fine,” mumbled Trunks dourly.

“I’ve got the shoes Ms. Hazel!” Dee Dee called from the back.

“Right, you gentlemen come this way. I’ve got a few changing rooms in the back,” Hazel reassured them. Trunks still glanced warily about, certain that he felt several pairs of eyes boring into his back.

As they carried the stacks of items, they brushed past hangers on the racks. Gohan snared a few leotards on hangers from plummeting toward the carpet, losing his grip on his items so he had to raise one knee to stop from dropping them. Trunks couldn’t resist teasing, “That a new dance step?”

“Ha ha,” Gohan answered back. “Just you watch your hips too; you’re almost knocking those hangers off the racks.”

“Don’t worry we’ll get those,” Hazel promised, reaching over to grab up the hangers that had been propelled off the rack. Gohan returned his hands to his pile and the two of them followed the sales clerk to the rear. Using the key on a lanyard around her wrist, she unlocked the dressing room.

“We’ll both go in at once,” Trunks said.

“All right. Sing out if you need any help, gentlemen,” Hazel gave them a wink. Gohan and Trunks entered the small changing area, equipped with a triple mirror in one corner, an ornate chair in the second, and other hooks to place items on.

“Let’s try these things on. We’ve not got a lot of time to get to where we need to be,” Trunks answered, glancing at his wristwatch.

Gohan already unlaced his shoes and pulled his shirt off. Trunks was shedding his own clothes and saw how meticulously Gohan was folding his items to set them on the chair. When he snatched Trunks shirt and started to fold it Trunks rolled his eyes, “Leave it Sexy, and don’t worry.”

“But…” Gohan began.

“Try on those pants, Sexy, double time,” Trunks ordered, slapping Gohan’s BVD clad backside.

“Yes sir,” Gohan stuck his tongue out at trunks and tossed an armful of sweats at his lover. Trunks neatly caught them and proceeded to kick off his shoes. Out of the corner of his eye, he couldn’t resist watching his lover shimmying into the pink sweatpants, or the way in which Gohan’s back muscles rippled as he turned to grab something off the chair.

Gohan in turn enjoyed the sight of Trunks own muscular backside which vanished under the slightly baggy sweats. It was a sin what that man seemed to do to any fabric tight or loose that clung to his body. Gohan took off his glasses and folded them so he could reach for the shirt and pull it on.

“I know now why I don’t wear pink,” Trunks complained. “It clashes with lavender! And you make me sick Sexy because you look good in ANYTHING!”

“Or without anything Handsome?” Gohan winked, breaking the tension with flirting back. Trunks seemed very uncomfortable trying on the clothes, and he was doing his best to make the most of it despite this. Playfully Gohan reached over and tugged the back of the pants to snap the elastic.

“You’ll get yours, Sexy,” Trunks grinned, tugging at Gohan’s waistband and doing the same. His fingers slipped into Gohan’s t-shirt clad sides and started to tickle him. Gohan threw his arms up to playfully fend it off but started to laugh loudly at the attack.

“Hey, yikes! This room isn’t too big!” Gohan gasped as he thudded against the wall. He was very sensitive to just the brush of a finger so Trunks was driving him nuts with those feather soft touches that sent tingles down his spine.

“It’s not my fault you’ve gotten so big and strong Sexy,” Trunks answered. Panting both of them released their grip and looked at the other. Flushed slightly pink, Trunks didn’t look half-bad in the hot color despite his protests.

“You’re fibbing Handsome. You look fine in pink,” Gohan answered, trying to catch his breath. He raised his hand to caress Trunks’ cheek lovingly. As always, he couldn’t resist fingering the soft silky hair.

“Thanks, Sexy,” Trunks nodded, leaning over and kissing Gohan on the lips sweetly. “Now, do you think this is going to pass muster?”

“Depends on how tightly he wants us to fill these out,” Gohan shrugged. Then he felt Trunks hand resting on his backside.

“Well I’ll be. Even on the backside?” snickered Trunks.

“What?” Gohan asked as he craned his neck to look over one shoulder and then almost spun around like a cat chasing his tail.

“Look,” Trunks said, turning around, and pointing to his own backside. Written across it were the telltale words of a sports team: She-Devils in neon pink cursive stitching.

“How appropriate,” Gohan snickered.

“Hah hah,” Trunks smiled awkwardly back.

“Mmm, well I’m guessing as long as it’s all pink, then it fits the bill,” Gohan nodded, slipping on the upper part of the sweats, a jacket that zipped up partway with the word She-Devils across the back.

“Well let’s try on the socks and sneakers then,” Trunks suggested, nudging Gohan to sit down. Resting his hand on Gohan’s shoulder, he picked up one foot and pushed it in his lover’s lap. Gohan pulled a sock on Trunks foot, and then waited for Trunks to set that food down and lift his other. Then it was Trunks turn to slip socks on Gohan’s feet as well. This play dressing of one another continued to ease the tension. Next came the shoes out of their pink sparkly wrapping paper and boxes decorated with silvery stars.

Trunks turned purposely and bent over again, distorting the writing on his backside to lace up the pink sneakers. Gohan smiled at the view he was treated to, and pulled on his sneakers placing his feet on the ground to stand up. The sparkly rhinestones decorated fold down cuffs on their socks, shimmering in the light.

“All right, this will do, I think,” Gohan nodded, wolf whistling at Trunks.

“Well you look just as cute as I do,” Trunks smirked back, securing his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“Shall we wear these out or wait?” Gohan wondered.

“Wear these out? As in outside the store?” Trunks shuddered.

“C’mon, we should get used to them,” Gohan shrugged pragmatically. Trunks sighed overdramatically. Gohan rested a hand on his shoulder then spun Trunks towards him. Rubbing his chest through the t-shirt he whispered, “Hey, and Handsome… I’ll make you a deal.”

“What?” Trunks sighed, glancing at him as he wrapped his arms around Gohan’s neck. His hands rested at the back of Gohan’s neck, toying with the short-cropped hair playfully. Both forearms hung heavily on Gohan’s strong shoulders, as if leaning more on him for support than usual.

“I’ll wear these if you do,” Gohan whispered, leaning forwards to kiss Trunks cheeks, then his lips.

“Hey, are you all right in there sirs?” knocked Hazel, voice slightly muffled through the door.

“Yes,” Gohan and Trunks chorused, and then chuckled at the harmony of their voices together. Pressing foreheads, they grinned and hugged tightly.

“All right then!” Hazel nodded.

“We’ll be wearing them home,” Gohan called.

“Fine then. We’ll have your other clothes bagged,” Hazel cheerfully answered. Taking a deep breath, Trunks wrapped his arm around Gohan’s waist, feeling security in his lover’s arm around his shoulders. They reached for the doorknob, and swung it open. Hazel stood behind the door, and glanced at their outfits.

“Well…” she commented. “Looking good.”

“Please don’t,” Trunks said.

“It’s not my say so, just hoping that you’re happy with the fit. Because it’s perfect,” she waved her hand dismissively. A few of the other patrons, one woman with a young daughter, and two teenage girls stopped to glance.

“He looks better in pink than I do,” she shook her head, and sighed.

“That’s something you don’t see every day,” whispered her friend giggling.

“Can we go now?” Trunks murmured to Gohan. His lover had tucked the glasses to hang over the collar of his T-shirt to hold them.

“Okay, but I’m getting our clothes,” Gohan said innocently as he turned to reach for the stacks of items. Trunks groaned, shaking his head at the comments and grins and whispers that he so dreaded. It wasn’t the fact that he was afraid of what people thought of his being lovers with another man, it was more the scrutiny of wearing something so girly.

“I might as well go down the street and get rhinestones, high heels and a feather boa,” mumbled Trunks, glancing away from the onlookers.

“C’mon, relax, they’re just jealous,” Gohan, whispered in his ear. “You look better in sweats then they do.”

“I hope you’re right,” Trunks murmured as Gohan handed their clothes to the clerk who led the way to the cash register. Reaching for Trunks hand, he took it, and then gave it a reassuring squeeze. He then took his glasses from their temporary place tucked into the t-shirt collar and slid them on.

“Um, excuse us please,” Gohan politely said as he brushed past the curious onlookers, Trunks in tow. The older demi was impressed to see how comfortable Gohan seemed to be, yet this was the same man who wore such outrageous clothes as the Saiyaman costume.

“At least he’s not getting me to try on THAT getup,” Trunks sighed with relief, snickering at the thought of Gohan wearing the ensemble.

He remembered when Gohan had first showed him the outfit back when they were first dating. While the shades and turban Gohan had adopted were passable with the costume, the helmet was too much.

His first words were, “G…Gohan what are you WEARING?”

“What do you think? I look cool don’t I?” Gohan had cheerily grinned.

Trunks had clamped his mouth shut and murmured, “I reserve judgment.”

Blushing at the memory, Trunks caught a glimpse of them reflected in a convex mirror high up in the corner of the store. The sort allowed the shopkeeper to keep an eye on possible shoplifters from any point in the store. Both he and his lover were side by side, resplendent in hot pink, but both with vastly different body language. In contrast to Gohan’s normal demeanor, Trunks realized he stood with slumped shoulders as if hunching down to hide beside Gohan. They were approximately the same height, yet the spikes on Gohan’s hair gave him a few inches on Trunks. Gohan reached for his wallet but Trunks rested a hand atop Gohan’s wrist. Instead, he extracted his own from the sweat pants pocket and thumbed through for his credit card.

***

Two sets of pink shoes pounded into the sidewalk in unison. Occasionally cracks snaked across the grey concrete, some affording enough of a hazard to stick up and trip Trunks shortly. He easily caught himself before falling and huffed to keep up with Gohan. Both of them realized they were running dangerously close to being late keeping their appointment with Sgt. Baki Hanma.

“Oh man I am out of shape,” panted Trunks, struggling to keep pace with Gohan. Already their faces blushed almost as pink as their sweats, which were saturated with moisture from the breakneck pace.

“Just twenty more blocks,” Gohan gasped, snatching his glasses off his face to hang them by their temple over the collar of his t-shirt. They had fogged up with sweat, and he realized how silly they were for workout when he normally wore them for reading/working on computers anyhow. It was such a habit to put them on that he realized how long it had been since they had seriously worked out like this. Just the rapid run to the meeting point was taking a toll. A glance at his watch as he swung his arm around told him they had covered five miles in at least a minute at this pace.

By now, they had reached a section of town comprised of older warehouses and industrial parks. They had run out of the residential zone, thinning of the houses and apartment buildings that gave way to shops, and then fenced in yards and streets with few sidewalks that forced them to run on the side of a road. Occasionally a semitrailer would pass them by, and the drivers would blink at the rate at which these two were running. Pedestrians and other people witnessing them would laugh, snicker, roll their eyes, or avert their gaze.

Trunks fought a constant battle to ignore the comments or facial expressions of their observers as they ran along. He envied Gohan running alongside him, focused so completely on keeping a good pace that he tuned the surroundings out. It was a quality he always admired in his lover; the singleness of purpose and the hyper-focusing that pushed Gohan to his limits and beyond.

Up to the chain-linked gates they trudged, still running with twinges of pain creeping along their ribs. A half-rusted fence surrounded the warehouse, and the gate was ajar. Gohan pushed it open and then they dashed through. Already a figure stood waiting by the nearest garage door, his arms folded across his chest. Coppery short hair curled slightly at the ends, his eyes fixing firmly on both demi Saiyans closing the gap to within a foot of him. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist, and scrutinized both of them. His serious face then brightened up into a smirk when he noticed their clothes.

“Well well, ladies, don’t you two look sweet?” Baki laughed as he saw Gohan and Trunks stop right before him.

“We… are here… sir…” Trunks gasped.

“Stand at attention both of you!” Baki barked. Instantly Gohan and Trunks stood with ramrod stiff posture, their eyes fixed forwards in a stare. Shoulders back and feet at a 45 degree angle they fisted their hands at their sides.

“All right then. You’re here in the required outfits all right. Good. We’ve got a lot to do, and little time to waste,” he said matter of fact, clapping his hands sharply. “Now, the first thing is to get you into uniform and right away!”

Both of them stood there, unsure of what to say. Whirling on them Baki shouted, “Well answer me! Yes sir or no sir!”

“Yes sir!” they both chorused.

“I didn’t hear that,” he repeated.

“YES SIR!” Gohan and Trunks shouted loudly, their voices bouncing off the concrete and asphalt pavements and bare cinderblock walls of the warehouse. Then the garage door slowly hummed as it lifted open, revealing a stool and cardboard boxes neatly stacked beside it.

“Hurry up and FALL IN! March, one two one two, MOVE IT!” Baki continued to bark. Gohan and Trunks hastened to march at the pace he indicated.

“Halt! About FACE!” he snapped. “As much as I LOVE your outfits, you’ll both be getting into gear now…”

He walked over and pulled off the lid on one of the top boxes. Grabbing one bundle he threw it at Gohan, then tossed the other to trunks. Gohan caught hold of the folded set of clothes wrapped around a pair o combat boots, while Trunks did his. As they turned them over in their hands Baki snapped, “What the hell are you waiting for? STRIP!”

“Yes sir!” Gohan shouted.

“Yes sir!” Trunks replied a second later. Quickly they scrambled to peel off their shoes, socks, and saturated pink sweats. Dropping them into a pile, they attacked each bundle and let it drop. Contained in each packet was a long pair of camouflage pants and army green sleeveless tank tops. Dog tags jingled as they put them around their necks. On each embossed oval were their names, date of birth and blood type, not to mention religion or lack thereof. Gohan however was quickly folding his sweats as he put his bundle down and Trunks carelessly let it fall.

“Did I ask you to make a mess, Bright eyes? Pick that up NOW!” Baki yelled. Trunks mumbled something under his breath as Gohan scrambled into his fatigues.

“What the hell was that? Something to SAY to me?” Baki growled, shoving his face right into Trunks.

“No sir!”

“I’d better not hear any more crap from you. Drop and give me 500!” Baki pointed to the ground as Trunks hastily pulled on his clothes.

“But I haven’t…”

“Are you DEAF, MOVE IT?” Baki shouted more loudly. Trunks dropped his boots, still in bare feet and dropped to his hands and knees. Gohan glanced over in shock.

“And what are YOU LOOKING AT! Go over there and SIT your ass down!” Baki hollered at Gohan.

“Where sir?” Gohan asked.

“The stool, dumbass!” Baki stabbed his finger towards the object in question. Gohan marched over and perched on the stool. Baki seized a pair of sheers from another box and a comb. Yanking it over Gohan’s locks, he grunted and snipped a bit. Gohan saw only a few bits of hair fall down, and then heard a buzzing noise. He closed his eyes as he felt the electric razor turn his already short hair into a buzz cut.

Damn, I’m glad I’m not Trunks. He’s going to flip if he has to get his hair THIS short, Gohan thought to himself. Still Trunks continued his pushups as Baki then stood back and glanced at Gohan’s hair. “So, you like my work, Glasses?”

“Yes sir!”

“Now, Beauty, finish up and get over here!” Baki shouted. He shoved the clippers into Gohan’s hand and the demi almost dropped them.

“Yes sir,” Trunks said and then his blue eyes widened in horror. “Oh no… don’t tell me…”

“Is there a PROBLEM, bright eyes?” Baki glared at him. “Move your ass!”

“But but…” Trunks stammered, still finishing his pushups.

“Are you DEAF, move it!!!” Baki hollered, his face flushing red.

Gohan by now leapt off the stool, and winced when he saw the terror in Trunks face. He opened his mouth to say something, but then clamped it shut. There was nothing he could say and it would be stupid to even try. While he saw his own locks of hair laying here and there in a mess around the stool, he knew it was just a half-inch or two. Staring at the nearby mirror, he saw that there were no pointed curls of bangs left and groaned inwardly.

“Oh well, but damn, poor Trunks,” he felt his heart twisting guiltily in his chest.

“ON YOUR FEET SOLDIER! MOVE IT!” Baki continued to holler at Trunks. “Are you in this or are you going to run home to mommy cause you can’t hack it!”

“N… no sir,” Trunks stammered.

“WHAT Was that? You scared of a set of clippers you wuss! Get your pansy ass over here now before I haul it for you and hand it to you!” Baki answered. Trunks scrambled quickly over and sat down, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Glasses, give him the same as you got. Short,” said Baki.

“But…” Gohan stammered.

“Are you deaf or did that big brain of yours leak out your ears?” Baki stared at him.

“No sir!” Gohan shouted, and stepped over to Trunks with the clippers in hand. He turned them on and heard a slight whimper.

“I’m sorry, Handsome,” Gohan whispered, gently grasping a handful of Trunks hair and moving the clippers to his scalp. Just short of applying them, he felt Baki seizing his wrist and pull it back.

“Wait, use these,” Baki said, grabbing the clippers and slapping a pair of scissors into Gohan’s hand instead. “You might just end up killing someone.”

Gohan mumbled, “Yes sir,” and then closed his scissors around a lock of Trunks hair. A comb was slapped into his other hand.

“Oh no,” Trunks mouthed, biting his lip. Gohan felt incredible guilt as the first loud snip reverberated in the silence.

Hand on his hips Baki watched and tapped his boot impatiently, “What’s taking you so damn long? CUT HIS HAIR!”

“Yes sir!” Gohan shouted, moving the scissors to Trunks ponytail. He figured it would be easier to just do it in one go. Then the ponytail came free in his hand. Trunks breathed a sigh of relief seeing that he still had some length around his neck. A look of extreme doubt came over his face and Gohan stepped back, scissors thrust into his pocket. Bits of lavender fell off the comb he ran through Gohan’s hair, pooling around the bottom of the stool and mingling with the black of his own.

“You call that SHORT?” Baki ridiculed, marching over and glaring at Gohan. “SHORTER!”

“Y… yes sir!” Gohan swallowed hard, and caught a glimpse of Trunks wincing. Dragging the comb through the top, he snipped only another half inch off. Feeling the heat of Baki’s impatient gaze he stepped up the pace, scissors clicking percussively like some strange dirge.

“Shorter!” Baki interrupted, marching up with the clippers in his hand. Shoving Gohan aside, he switched them on. A loud buzzing sound covered the sound of Trunks startled gasp and Gohan’s sharp intake of breath as he stepped back.

An evil grin crossed Baki’s face as he snatched a handful of hair and pressed the clippers to it. Trunks shivered spasmodically, feeling the vibration buzzing through him. The sudden thrust and push of the clippers then a feeling of something falling past his neck sent shivers down his spine. His heart rose into his throat, pounding as he saw pieces of hair fluttering all around his feet. With each stroke, more bits piled up to join the first. The view blurred into a purple puddle as he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. Making no sound his chin wobbled as he silently sobbed in misery.

Gohan looked on, not sure of what to say. All he could stammer was, “It… doesn’t look that bad actually.”

Baki stepped back and kicked over a trash can so he could empty the clippers and clean them. Miserably Trunks still glanced down at the mounds of his lavender hair all butchered. Gohan used this chance to move over and stand next to Trunks, leaning over so he could see the tears pooling in those beautiful blue eyes. Sighing he stood up and ran his hand over the back of his head, resisting the urge to throw his arms around Trunks and try to comfort him. He knew that any public displays of affection would not go over well with the impatient Sarge.

“At least it’s a lot less hotter,” Gohan commented, scratching his scalp and giving Trunks a goofy smile.

“How bad is it,” he whispered. He slid off the stool and shakily stood up.

“Actually it looks good on you, though, Handsome,” Gohan smiled warmly, bending closer to bring their faces together. Trunks slowly leaned closer.

“Really?” Trunks glanced up at him, managing a watery-eyed smile. Tears were threatening to roll down his cheeks but he pushed them back.

“Really,” Gohan beamed at him. An irresistible urge to kiss Trunks and make it all better urged him forwards. As their hot breath fanned one another’s faces, they forgot all about the Sergeant.

“What’s this, the LOVE BOAT?” Baki interrupted sharply, startling both men. Trunks and Gohan flinched jumping apart.

“Drop and give me 5000, NOW!” the Sergeant barked, pointing to the ground. Glancing at one another Gohan and Trunks both knelt and pressed their hands into the pavement. Soon it grew dark with circles of their sweat raining down from the two recruits performing their pushups.

Whatever pain they started to feel now was nothing in comparison to the burning in their arm muscles. By the time they were performing the last five, Baki was tugging on a jacket. Circling one orbit around the sweating demis, he then lifted three objects out of the other box he’d gotten the fatigues from. Both of the demis stopped their last pushup at just the moment the Sergeant strode over and stood right before them.

“On your feet ladies! We’re going for a jog. Grab these packs and move it!” Baki shouted. Gohan and Trunks leapt up, standing at attention. Then heavy backpacks slammed into each of them in turn, leaving them only a split second to grab them to prevent dropping them on their booted feet. Already Baki had a backpack strapped on his shoulders, with a lot less gear they realized.

Gohan wondered just what was in the bags, though they didn’t’ feel too heavy for a Saiyan to lift. Shrugging, he pulled the straps on, and then tightened them while Trunks did the same. Baki then turned and motioned them, jogging in place. “All right fall in behind me! Move it!”

Without question, the lovers hastened after their sergeant. Easily Baki trotted down the long asphalt service road out of the yard. Gohan and Trunks huffed after him, still slightly winded from their pushups. Against their backs bounced the backpacks, not so heavy at first, but with each passing minute seemed to increase. The motion of the loads tugged the straps into their shoulders, for they had only the sleeveless shirts on. Dog tags jingled in time with their pace, accompanied by the tapping of boots on hard asphalt.

“Hut two three four… move it stay sharp ladies!” Baki encouraged, breathing easily. “Sing along! I don’t know what I’ve been told…”

“I don’t know what I’ve been told…” Gohan and Trunks chimed in, realizing how hard it was to sing AND run simultaneously.

“But ass is worth its weight in gold!” Baki sang rudely. Both of them groaned internally and sang the line back.

“Am I right or wrong…”

“Right!”

“Shut up sing along! Sound off!” Baki continued. “One two…”

“Sound off, three four…”

Then they all continued together, “One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!”

“I don’t know what I’ve been told… but Northern Pussy’s kind of cold!”

“Sound off… one two… sound off three four…”

“One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!”

“Got a gal, she’s long and tall, Sleeps in the kitchen with her ass in the hall!”

“Sound off… one two… sound off three four…”

“One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!”

On top of trying to keep pace Gohan and Trunks now sang a rather embarrassing march song about lousy camp food, exotic female parts, and Kami knows what else that would have some blushing at best, and others guffawing at worst at the colorful language and epithets.

“I’ve got a girl in Southern City… she’s got freckles on her titty… SOUND OFF…” was the verse they reached twenty more blocks later, after cleared the industrial park.

“Sound off… one two… sound off three four…”

“One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!”

Overhead a shadow shot, followed by the noise of an engine buzzing overhead. They glimpsed up to see a small one-person plane zoom in for a landing. A white sock fluttered in the breeze from atop a long pole near a multifaceted control tower. All these they could see directly ahead as they huffed and puffed after Baki towards the gates of a small municipal airport.

“If I die on the Karan Front… Box me up with a Karan cunt… SOUND OFF….”

“Sound off… one two… sound off three four…”

“One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!”

Light private craft sat in front of small hangars, while others sat at the ends of narrow concrete or gravel landing strips. By now the packs seemed to weigh ten times what they did before, and both were almost dragging their heels after the still fresh Baki leading them towards a modest sized jet, a bit battered and painted only in white and silver with no markings.

Still they continued to sing, “I don’t know, but it’s been said, West Point boys are good in bed…. SOUND OFF…”

“Sound off… one two… sound off three four…”

“One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!”

“Got a girl, lives on a hill…. Says she won’t, but I know she will… SOUND OFF…”

“Sound off… one two… sound off three four…”

“One two three four, one two three four… ONE TWO THREE FOUR!” they panted as they closed the gap with their leader.

“Haul your ass and load up!” Baki pointed to the open rear of the craft. It was a cargo plane, the sort whose entire tail section swung up to reveal big stacks of crates and drums. Already someone else was climbing up the rough ramp into the belly of the plane. A rather handsome man with blonde hair was carrying a backpack similar to them. He vanished inside. Stopping Gohan and Trunks braced their hands against their thighs, bent over and heaving for breath. Baki stood before them, shaking his head incredulously.

“Don’t tell me you two are tired already! You have the time on the plane to sleep but no more! There’s no use asking WHERE you’re going. Just get on board and we’ll see if you have what it takes to pass my test,” Baki grunted, and nodded to two muscular men wearing sunglasses, khaki shorts, and short cropped hair who were loading other items on to the plane.

“Yes sir…” was all Gohan could pant before he staggered over towards the ramp. One of the men was motioning with one leather-gloved hand after returning to the opening of the cargo hold. Trunks followed his lover on board, his lavender hair dark with sweat. Baki nodded and watched his new privates vanish into the plane.

Still breathless Gohan and Trunks took off their packs and set them where their guide indicated. Two empty seats were folded down from the sides of the craft, behind a stack of moored crates tied down with cargo net. They were basic seats, with hard backs and minimal padding that Gohan and Trunks slumped into. Rough webbed belts clipped across their hips and over one shoulder. Through the seat cushions, they could feel the vibration of the plane’s engines, while the drone obscured all but the shouts of their pilot who was already seated. Already the third man in fatigues was belted into his seat, closer to the cockpit that was delineated only by a white line painted on the floor. Their guide pulled a lever that caused the tail section to swing down. Daylight waned to a crack, and then plunged them into darkness. Both demis dropped into exhausted sleep as they felt the plane slowly turn and taxi to the runway.