Son Gohan was many things: an academic genius, a fighting prodigy, and the only female half-Saiyan in existence. Things Son Gohan wasn't: an object used for breeding. Gohan didn't expect to have to clarify this so often.


The principle aspect of being a female was taught to her early— as was the effect of having a very traditional mother. It was a simple term, demure, the word as plain as her mother told her she should be. It wasn't that her mom wanted to make her into a wallflower, but that she aspired for Gohan to have the best choices when it came to a future partner. It was prime knowledge that men wanted reserved women. That wasn't to say everything else was ignored in favor of teaching her womanly skills; it was true that she was helping in the kitchen the moment she could walk and that her mom already started her on stitch work, nothing strenuous, just focusing on being able to make a straight suture. But that wasn't to say that she didn't study areas like math and calligraphy. It just took a backseat compared to the more important aspects of her day to day life.

In comparison, her father did his best to kindle her growth into something that wasn't going to end in a stagnant future. He brought her out every morning while her mom worked on breakfast to stretch and play. He would bring her down to the river and show her how to fish or bring her into a soft clearing where flowers grew up to her knees where he would lead her through a string of odd poses called kata. Gohan liked the exercise, being cooped up inside for most of the day made her eager to stretch and move. Though easily the best days were where both her mother and father would take her out to a small clearing with only one great tree with a wide, gaping hole in its trunk, there they would picnic for a few hours and fall asleep under the cool shade.

It was simple, she had a planned day and a planned future.

And then there was a family reunion.

Family, a loose idea of family, to Gohan, was her mom, dad, and grandpa. She then added Krillin, a short monk who abandoned his devotion to his temple to study martial arts, to her tiny family. He filled in an odd role of brother and uncle, not quite mature enough to fit into a fatherly category. Then came Bulma, a pretty woman with teal hair, who Gohan struggled with. She didn't know where to put her, mature enough to be a mom but with a quick temper and explosive tendencies, Gohan quickly filed her under 'questionable aunt', and left it like that. There was one more man, an older gentleman by the name of Roshi, who apparently was not very gentlemanly at all. She didn't speak much with him but she knew her dad respected him, and that her grandpa respected him, so she did too.

They had asked briefly about her future, and she didn't understand why they looked at her the way she did for her answer, "Well, mom wants me to be a good wife but I do like exercising with daddy, and science is really cool!" Krillin had mumbled something about kids starting earlier and earlier every year and Bulma perked up and said that if Gohan wanted she could help her with her science studies. Gohan eagerly accepted and began to babble about the things she read about in her books and what she thought about it, Bulma kept up with her babble and even adding her own two cents in, Bulma happily informed her that she was pretty advanced for not being allowed to have a lot of study time and that she could come over anytime and she'd teach her some even cooler stuff.

"Girls gotta have it all you know," her pretty aunt prattled, "beauty and brains go hand and hand; honestly, I'm surprised we don't have men eating out of the palms of our hands." Her smooth face screwed up and immediately darkened, "Ugh, you know what? Forget men," she growled, "Gohan, don't look twice in their direction! They're all pigs!" Krillin whined at being included in the statement but ultimately agreed with Bulma to placate her.

The conversation had lulled and Gohan had started to toddle around the island's turtle taking much more interest in the sea animal than the boring chat about her tail and full moons. By the time anyone realized that something bad was going to happen, it was far too late. Her dad only just crouched into a defensive position before a tall man that easily loomed over her father softly touched down on the beach.

From her hiding place behind her father's leg, she could feel the tension, understand the weight of the situation, but that didn't mean she knew the reason why. The man was bad, and they were related to him, and her daddy wasn't from here but that was all okay wasn't it? Her dad wasn't the bad man and he'd never do anything bad, so it didn't matter. Her childish brain didn't realize the concept applied to her too.

"Behind your leg, Kakarrot— did you breed with one of these creatures!?" The man went quiet, pensive, and seemed to not register her dad telling him to leave her out of this.

"Well, It's disgusting... but considering she's the first female Saiyan I've seen in years… maybe she can help our cause. You are fortunate brother! The Prince might let your spawn live!" Maybe it was because of her inherited naivety, or because she simply couldn't connect the dots, she just couldn't understand why Bulma looked green in the face or why her father snarled so fiercely at his brother.

She did know fear when her uncle's large hand snatched her up by the back of her formal hanfu; Gohan could practically feel the delicate material tear under the force. She was then lifted in the air and carried far away from the tiny island.

Ironically enough, that was the day that Gohan truly learned what being female meant.

It meant being looked down upon. It meant being expected to bow to the opposite sex. It meant being subservient, allowing males to take the lead and save the day. All of these lessons she had already begun learning under her mother, granted it was more watered down, but still fundamentally the same.

Call Gohan crazy, but as she stood helpless in her uncles quickly cracking space pod, she decided that being female wasn't worth it if she couldn't save the people she loved.

She shed the delicate fabric of her hanfu from off her shoulders. Watching the beautiful fabric crumple into a colorful mess, Gohan made up her mind.

Landing above the paralyzed body of her uncle with her chest bare, Gohan decided that she wouldn't follow the plans that her gender dictated.


A self-indulgence fic for myself to see how canon would change with Gohan being a female Saiyan.

A hanfu is a traditional Chinese dress, used to replace Gohan's sur-coat from cannon.