Goku found himself in a predicament, standing in that shower all by himself. He had never found this much water to be thrust in his face in an attempt to clean him, as he had never taken a shower before. No, it had always been baths, whether it be in a watering hole in Uub's village, a river by his Grandpa Gohan's cottage, or the large tub that Chi-Chi used to fill up every other night.

But a shower? This was a completely new challenge to be tackled, one that he had never imagine to be a challenge before.

Getting in had been a problem in itself, as the instant he stepped in, droplets of heat sprayed on to his bare skin, getting an involuntary, little yelp out of him. He had always been sensitive to temperature, and it wasn't always that he could just jump into the bathtub that Chi-Chi heated up so long ago. Sometimes even he, one of the last of the Saiyan race, had to ease his way in slowly, starting with his big toe. But that wasn't much of a choice in a shower, and so he forced his teeth to clench together and took the brave step in.

He let out a nervous giggle as the water bombarded him, wriggling with the pure displeasure of it all. Pigero had set it so that it was far too hot, having been distracted with the prospect of stealing his old gi and replacing it with something more suitable, and now Goku was suffering for that moment of carelessness. The urge to turn Super Saiyan struck him, but he quickly reasoned with his own small mind that, in a tiny house such as this, it probably wouldn't end well.

As he got caught up in his laughing fit, however, he lost his traction on the slippery floor of the shower, immediately slipping and falling backwards. He managed to catch himself by pressing himself against the side of the shower, but his feet still couldn't place themselves, and he slipped on his knees with an, "Ow," of surprise escaping his lips.

He released a sigh of slight frustration, all of the chuckles having been knocked out of him, as he stood up once more. He was determined to get through this for, after all, what kind of a man would Chi-Chi perceive him as if he couldn't even fight a shower? He was slowly but surely adjusting to the temperature of the water, and he reached cautiously for the soap bar sitting on the shower's ledge.

He would wrestle this shower if he had to in order to get through the next five minutes of rinsing himself.

Bulla's ponytail whipped behind her as she skirted the city's outskirts, taking her Capsule Corp. convertible off of the beaten path and off towards a place she was certain she would find answers, if not help. She kept her hands gripped inexpertly on the steering wheel, as she had only been driving for so long in her short life, and she only held a permit. But with the number of driving disasters she had heard about from her mother amongst all of the Z Warriors, she knew that if she added another one to the list, it certainly wouldn't stand out.

She huffed as she eyed the rear-view mirror, expecting a cop to appear out of nowhere and arrest her on the spot. She'd never been to jail before, and she certainly didn't like the sound of it. She imagined that being underage would have any cops tote her off to such a place where she would have to await her mother to pick her up. And her mother was the last person she wanted to face at the moment, as she was the person she had just escaped from only minutes before. If she returned now, she would have failed her mission to find out exactly who she was, and she would probably constantly be under her mother's wary eye.

What was a demi-Saiyan, after all? It seemed as though their abilities varied, as the others could all turn Super Saiyan, and yet she had never honed such an ability. She couldn't even fly, something that Yamcha, a weakling human, had always teased her about. She smirked at the thought, remembering how he had once delivered her to her room after a disastrous attempt to learn. Perhaps jumping out of one of the office balconies on the second floor of the Capsule Corp. building hadn't been the best way, though she was lucky to have had Yamcha fly in at the last second possible to catch her. But what would have happened if she had fallen? Would she have shattered, or would she have proven herself to really be part Saiyan?

After all, from all of the stories told to her, it seemed as though the others had fallen from heights far higher than the second story of one of the world's most iconic corporate office buildings. Whether in combat or just exploring, they seemed to have been flying higher than she could even imagine. But the key word there was flying, an ability which seemed to ever evade her. Perhaps falling wasn't so bad when you could control your ki.

She was forced to make this journey to Kami's Lookout in a vehicle due to her inability to control ki, though at least she was learning to sense it. She could feel strong energies in this direction, something that relieved her in some ways. Piccolo was strong, and she was determined to find him again. He had to have been hiding something, as he had tracked down whatever ki she emitted in that cafe the night before. He was definitely searching for a Saiyan, but just why? Were they really all returning, as she suspected Yamcha to fear?

She would give up everything she possessed, from the brand-name clothing to the books and tools, to meet her father. Or even her brother. Something was lacking in her life that Yamcha simply couldn't provide her, as good a step-father as he had proved to be over the years, and she had to find out exactly what it was.

Perhaps she just wanted somebody more like her. After all, she was half of a Saiyan being raised under the roof of two humans, and there may have been something she needed that only a Saiyan could provide. She was the only female with Saiyan blood, save for Pan, though she was only a quarter-Saiyan and not half as mature. She needed somebody to hear her out and understand just what was was going through, trying to find her identity.

Bulla loosened up slightly, daring to lean back in her chair as she gave one, last glance to the retreating city through the rear-view mirror. There were no cops coming as far as she could see. She certainly didn't enjoy the idea of being arrested, but there was a first time for everything. Everything except meeting those who were who supposed to be closest to her, though, she supposed bitterly.

With the wind beating his washed face, Gohan attempted to calm himself. This must have all been just some misunderstanding, he reasoned, though he couldn't rid himself of the lurking suspicion that Trunks had been the one to wish the moon back. There was just nobody else with any motive to, and if Trunks did have a tail he had successfully tucked away, he would have a completely new advantage to the other. Great Apes, after all, were infamous for multiplying power levels by ten, and Gohan knew that if Trunks was ten times stronger, he might actually have a chance at beating even Gohan's father, Goku.

He couldn't go to Kami's Lookout with a hot head. He would be unreasonable, then, and then the advantage of his logic would be lost in all of his rashness. He had already been humbled the night before, and that in itself had been difficult to cope with. As all Saiyans did, he valued his pride, and he wasn't eager to lose it again.

In an effort to cool down, he dipped down the skimmed the ocean's calm waves, allowing its salty spray to leap on his face. He closed his eyes and continued moving closer to his destination by relying only on sensing the ki on Kami's Lookout. It was the first time in a long while that he had taken this time to enjoy the ocean's misty breath, feeling the tiny ki of fish dancing about beneath its surface. He glided above the ocean without his shirt getting soaked, making the conscious effort to at least keep his clothes clean. He wanted to make a valid argument again Trunks, and the only way he knew to do that was to keep a solid appearance of a man who knew exactly what he had come to do, an approach that he always took with new students in his classes.

First impressions were always important, he mused, not even realizing that the tip of his tie was dragging along in the water. This was one of the reasons he had failed against his father the night before, having gone into the battle hotly and having thrown his pride on the line.

No, today, he was determined to throw Trunks' pride on the line instead, not realizing that he wouldn't be the first since the purple-haired demi-Saiyan's return.