What an odd feeling, leaving was. Goku could barely wait to go and, at the same time, longed for the day he would return. If he ever did. If he wasn't swallowed whole by the immensity of the world.
More to see than can ever be seen.
What if Goku never ran out of things to discover?
What if he wasn't meant to stay in one place for long? Forever moving? He liked that idea.
Still, he would miss home.
He had packed a light backpack with a change of clothes and a few personal items, the Sushinchu and his Nyoibo. The Power Pole had been another gift from his grandfather. He joined Bulma outside. She had come to retrieve her Jeep but had returned empty handed.
"Your big head did some damage," she told him. "But it's fine. I put it away. For now, we can use the scooter."
He listened with curiosity but understood very little of it.
"Uh… Bulma? How do we find the Dragon Balls? If they can be anywhere, how do you know where to look?"
She scowled at him. "Don't make the mistake of underestimating me, Monkey Boy," she said, hands on her hips.
"I wasn't–"
"This is how." She reached into her pocket belt and brought out a round looking object. She handed it to him.
Goku studied it. It was white and metallic, no bigger than a Dragon Ball but flat, and it had a single button at the top. Bulma pressed it and immediately a greenish screen appeared revealing a map, focusing on three golden points that were agglomerated together.
"This is the Dragon Radar," she said, voice full of pride. "My design. While doing my research I noticed that the Dragon Balls release a strong electromagnetic force, so I built something that detects said force even if they happen to be immersed into the deepest ocean or under the thickest rock. You see here," she gestured at the three golden points, "it's showing our three Dragon Balls. But if you press this twice,"—she pressed the top button again—"it shows the other ones that we don't currently have. The closest one is 1200 miles west."
Goku realized his mouth was hanging open so he closed it. "Cool," he said, wishing he was smarter and had more to add.
Bulma reached for her pocket belt again and took out a small white box. Inside there were several mini capsules. She casually chose one and said, "Step back." Then she threw the capsule a few meters away. Within seconds, before reaching the ground, before Goku's very eyes, the mini capsule transformed into something he assumed to be a scooter.
He couldn't help himself. He screamed.
"Keep your pants on," Bulma chastised. Goku didn't think that was too fair. He had given no indication that he would be taking off his pants. "These are hoi-poi capsules. Everyone has a set. But only I have the real great ones. My dad is the creator. His dad was the founder of Capsule Corporation. It's a family business," she said with a shrug. "You'll get used to it. Shall we?"
They mounted the scooter and were off. The thing moved fast! Trying not to fall off, Goku wrapped his arms around Bulma's waist, holding tight to her. He felt her stiffen, but she didn't say anything, which he was thankful for.
It was very late in the night when she stopped. It was a sudden decision, one she made on her own. Goku didn't mind it much. The scooter wasn't comfortable and his butt was numb. He fancied a break. They both climbed down.
"Are we camping here?" Goku asked. It was the first time either of them spoke since the beginning of their journey.
"You got a problem with that?"
He didn't think she meant to sound so harsh, she just did it sometimes. It was quite the roller coaster, watching her. She went from one mood to the next in a blink of an eye. Goku found it both amusing and nerve wrecking.
"No." He looked around, absorbing their surroundings. The road crossed the path between the forest and the mountains. It didn't seem like a particularly good place to sleep safe and soundly; not in the open like that.
"Don't worry," she said, reading the concern in his face. "I have just the thing."
Her solution involved another capsule.
Goku started to say: "There's no way you can take a house out of—"
She threw the capsule. Bam. They had a hoi-poi house.
"You were saying…?"
Bulma couldn't lie. The look on his face had brought her a great level of satisfaction. She absolutely loved when people were amazed by what the hoi-poi capsules could accomplish. She was proud of her family business, glad to be a part of it.
Hoi-poi houses followed a generic model. All identical to the last detail. Perfectly furnished, with a fireplace, a TV, a bathtub and two bedrooms.
The TV really did a number on Goku. He watched a talking show from beginning to end, absorbed by it. She cooked them dinner – a couple of hot pockets – and when they were done eating she told him he could wash before bed.
She was trying to pick something to watch when he called her from the bathroom. He sounded shy. She didn't quite like that. What could he possibly want at a time like this?
She hesitantly went to meet him. The bathroom was a square room with blue tiles. Nothing too fancy. Goku was standing in front of the bathtub eyeing the shower head with apprehension.
An awful thought occurred to her. "Oh, honey," she said.
Goku looked at her. "I'm not sure how this works."
The poor boy.
Bulma, you have a choice to make here, she told herself, albeit knowing she had already made it.
I'll probably gonna regret this…
"How about I'll fill the bathtub for you and we do that instead?" she suggested. He seemed pleased by it. He stepped aside so she could reach the tap. As the tub filled, she threw some bubbles in there. "Okay. I think you can take it from now on. Undress and then go–" she turned around as she spoke and found him already shamelessly butt-naked. "Oh. There you are." She gulped. "Naked. Now that's in my head. Just… Get inside. Hurry up!"
He made himself comfortable inside the tub. "This feels nice," he said. "Smells nice, too."
Bulma sat down on the toilet. Her mind was agitated. There was something about Goku… she couldn't quite put a finger on it. It was driving her insane.
He was different. That much was clear. It wasn't just being raised in the outskirts. It wasn't being left alone. There was something else, something… deeper.
Something that called to her. Made her want to know more.
"What are you?"
She hadn't meant to say it like that. It just came out. There was a vortex in her brain that made her sound rude when she didn't mean to.
But he just looked at her, those curious eyes unnerving her. "What do you mean?"
"Well, for starters… why do you have a tail?"
He shrugged. "Why don't you have one?"
Well, touché.
"People don't have tails!" she snapped. "You shouldn't have a tail. That's not normal–" She bit her tongue. She didn't want to hurt his feelings or whatever.
He was watching her with those eyes. So undistracted. So demanding. She remembered something she read somewhere: cups of honey, eyes of fury. It scared her a little bit. Not that there was any fury per say in him; overall he seemed to be a very sweet boy, not quick to anger. But his eyes told a different story. His eyes held secrets, deep and dark.
She wished he would look away.
"My grandpa used to tell me this rhyme," he said, "about the Monkey King. Far across the eastern sea, beyond the land that time flies free. The magic rock, fallen, unique, is now sat on the Flower Mountain's peak. Cracked open the cocoon, the power and light of the moon. And from hence emerged the Monkey King, for peace on Earth to bring."
Bulma knew it. A child's lullaby.
"My grandpa found me abandoned on Mount Paozu," he went on. "He took me in. I don't know where I came from. I don't know who my parents were. All I know is that he took care of me. He was… a good man."
A fairy tale about a strange boy who didn't fit it. His grandfather wanted him to know that he wasn't alone. That the world had a place for someone like him.
Bulma suddenly wished she could have met the old man. Well, in a way, perhaps… she told herself, perhaps she was meeting him. He lived on in the boy he'd raised. In the man he would one day become.
There was something comforting about the thought.
The week ran out in no time at all. They settled into a routine, he guessed, and it was almost calming. He'd learned that Bulma was content and less prickly as long as she had something to occupy herself with and that it was wiser to let her alone when she was busy.
He didn't mind. He contended himself with watching her. She had nimble fingers, thin and fast, and they were always moving. She used her hands a lot. He half envied that. He might have talents of his own, but he wasn't good with his hands. He couldn't make things. Create. He was better at breaking them.
Bulma made all sort of stuff, picking certain objects apart and then putting them back together again.
He watched, oddly fascinated.
They kept all conversations light during the day, but at night it shifted. They swapped stories. He told her about his life, about his grandfather, only realizing how boring his life was when she started telling him about hers.
She was a second daughter, but spoiled no less. Her father was one of the richest man on Earth and of the greatest mind. He suffered from some weird disease that prevented him from ever leaving the house.
Her mother she described as dotty. Goku wasn't quite sure what that meant. Bulma clearly didn't have much patience when talking about her. She said she lived in her own little world and that it was a place Bulma had never quite had the courage to venture in.
"I've always feared that… were I to let her pull me in… I'd never find the way out again."
This part he enjoyed, but it wasn't all good. He woke up with the roosters, as she put it, and that seemed to really get on her nerves. She, in turn, was a very messy person and would leave her stuff everywhere, dirty clothes, wet towels, tools and thingamabobs. He more than once had stepped barefoot on one of her screws.
He ate too much too fast and she yelled at him because he didn't save her one of the cinnamon rolls.
Oh and the toilet seat. That was a big one. He had made a mental note to remember to put it down. She had made a physical note and glued it to the bathroom wall.
Still, he liked her. Even with her antics and mood swings, he liked her a lot. It was on day six that he decided he would rather have her in his life, yelling and nagging, than not have her at all.
On day eight, something happened. There was an edge to her mood. She was quieter than usual and after breakfast he caught her kicking the garbage bin with tears in her eyes.
He backed away slowly and was waiting for her outside when he spotted something even weirder.
A great sea turtle was resting under the canopy of a tree. For a moment, he thought it was just a big boulder, but then realized the thing was staring at him with small beady eyes.
What a wonderful creature, he thought, once he got over his fright. Although he had never left Mount Paozu before, Grandpa Gohan had taught him maps and Goku knew the name of some of the nearest places. He knew there was a small village just after crossing the East River. Up North, there was a city.
The sea… he wasn't sure. He couldn't remember.
The turtle moved its head in a beckoning way. It was trying to tell him something. He had taken a single step toward it when Bulma stepped out of the hoi-poi house muttering under her breath. She turned the house back into a capsule and pocked it.
"You ready?" she asked, without looking at him. She was reaching for the scooter capsule.
"Uh, actually–" he started and bit his tongue immediately upon receiving one of her looks.
"What?"
He gestured to their quiet visitor.
"A sea turtle?" she said. "How did it get here? We are miles from the sea." Bulma shook her head. "Never mind. It's time to go, Goku." She threw the hoi-poi capsule and it poofed into the scooter.
"Excuse me?"
Both Bulma and Goku jumped. They looked at each other, confused, before turning to the turtle.
Bulma gasped. "IT TALKS!" She staggered back, a finger pointed at the animal. "How can it talk?"
"Would you care to provide me with seaweed and a bit of salt water?" The turtle said in a deep voice. It had a funny accent. Posh.
"Uh," Goku cleared his throat. "I guess we could."
"What? No. That… thing… can talk! We're not getting anywhere near it!" She gave Goku a look that said she thought the talking turtle was entirely his fault.
"Oh, I am being so rude," the turtle said. "Please, forgive me. I am Umigame. I got lost. I have been wandering in the sun for days... I cannot seem to find my way home."
"Sorry, but you've wondered far, turtle. I believe the sea is about 120 miles that way." Bulma pointed South.
Umigame's little eyes widened. "120 miles?" it repeated. "Oh no. What will I do?"
"Don't care."
Goku stepped in. "We could take you there."
"You would do that?"
"Uh, no, we wouldn't!" Bulma cut in. "No. We can't, Goku. We can't waste any time with lost turtles, alright? That's not what we set out to do. This here is not our problem."
No. The problem was something else, he realized. And this was the breaking point. They weren't on the same page anymore. He knew how this would turn out and he wasn't happy about it. Nor was he ready for it.
The hard part isn't figuring it out, Goku, but doing it.
"Bulma," he said slowly, measuring his words with care, "you don't want to help, and I get that, it's fine. I won't think any less of you. But I am."
A mixture of emotions crossed her pretty face. Goku only recognized a few of them—anger, disbelief, betrayal. But there were more. The green storm brewing in her eyes seemed to have evolved into a tornado.
"You're not serious," she said, although she knew he was. "You're… leaving? With the turtle?"
I'm sorry, he wanted to say, but knew that it would somehow make everything worse.
"I just–"
"You just what, Goku?"
He met her eyes. "It needs me," he said. Only much later did it occur to him that she might need him too.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go. They were to find the Dragon Balls together. Bulma was his first friend since Grandpa Gohan. She was the first person to make him feel like he wasn't alone and he owed her for that. But that didn't make her right.
Leaving the turtle with no means to return to the ocean was the same as killing it.
Goku wouldn't have that.
He picked the huge turtle up and placed it on his back. It was heavier than he had expected. He didn't care. He would manage it.
"Goku," Bulma said, voice small. "You go, I don't ever want to see you again."
Goku followed the trail South.