Trunks was quiet as he listened, noticing that her voice was soothing beyond just what she was saying. "I...haven't had a place I've felt relaxed in in a very long time." His own whispered words, faint and with echoes of pain and frustration. Only sensed because her montrals were so acute and she was so attuned.

In the present, at that moment, he was focusing on the memories. On that place; remembering the smell of disinfectant and grease, of slightly cold, recirculated air. The feel of his mother, from her scent to the warm presence of her own ki to her small mutterings under her breath of frustration. The coolness of tile under his fingers, and the hint of rounded wall, hum of flourescent lighting.

It was a place he had not been in a very long time, nor cared to spend much time that he didn't have to, once he had been old enough to help in other ways. Not when there was so much more he could've been doing, and wasn't allowed to do. That he sometimes did anyways, and then knew his mother worried about losing him too.

But none of that touched him right then, just the feeling of peace and safety that he hadn't had felt for a very long time. Maybe it was because he was out of his own universe, doing something just as important. Maybe it was because Ahsoka was there, and had helped guide him.

Didn't matter right then, as he was quiet and calm and focused, eyes closed and relaxed yet not.