Trunks was mentally exhausted after a long day at work. So, needless to say, he was ready to vegetate as he unlocked his front door and went in, turning to close the door behind him. He didn't even bother to turn on any lights. Trunks lived alone. He walked into the kitchen to make some tea, on the way kicking off his shoes, then pulling off his pants and shirt, till he was in his boxers, and put a kettle on to boil. After the water had boiled, he steeped some tea. He now planned to go to his room and read or something. He padded to his room, spilling tea and burning his hand.

As he entered his bedroom, he noticed a very out of place smell. It was very, very faint, but sweet. He flicked on the light and looked around his white, spotless room.

There was a single red rose on his pillow.

Several petals had fallen out and were spilled across the white sheets like spots of crimson blood. Trunks stopped and stoof motionless, staring at the rose. His mind raced.

Who would have left me a rose.......But....how did they get into the house..... Trunks didn't have any close friends or girlfriends; he was a kind of recluse. His mother was dead, his father who knows where...This seemed all too much like a sick joke. He stretched his senses throughought the house, searching.

There was someone in the house.

Part Two