Dragon Ball: Reborn
Season 1, Episode 1 —
"The Arrival"
Goku admired himself in his bathroom's vanity mirror. He had never been able to appreciate the utility of such a luxury item until now. It was one of the few indulgences his wife Chi-Chi insisted upon as their house was being built. She always wanted to look her best, rare though it was she ventured out into civilization. Even rarer that they had company over. Nonetheless, she considered a wall-sized reflective surface with built-in lights and drawers essential to that end. Though Goku never saw the point before, he couldn't deny the grin plastered to his face as he turned several times, viewing himself from all angles.
Beats standing on the edge of the lake to see what I look like.
He hadn't worn his orange gi in over five years. Not since his winning bout at the World Martial Arts Tournament. In truth, this wasn't the same gi, instead a new one given to him by his master as a graduation present. The one he won the fight in was in tatters, draped across an altar in his childhood home, only a stone's throw away. Atop that shredded outfit was his grandfather's urn.
Ever since his grandfather began training him at the age of two, Goku dreamt of showing off for him in some spectacular battle. This small tribute seemed the closest he could come to it. He needed to remember to light some fresh incense and pay his semi-daily respects before they took their leave.
Goku continued to ogle himself. It'd been so long since he wore the colors and symbols chosen by his teacher. The ones made famous by he and his fellow students' exploits. Emblazoned across his torso was a sleeveless orange fold-over jacket with blue trim. A set of concealed laces and a matching blue belt fastened the garment closed. Underneath was a sapphire undershirt whose sleeves protruded from beneath the orange shoulders. This left his arms bare down to the elbows, where navy-blue athletic tape ran all the way to his palms. His baggy pants were a darker shade of orange, bordering on red. He kept the hems of his pant legs tucked into his nearly-black boots, the footwear's edges outlined in yellow.
He ran a hand through his windswept mane of raven hair. It seemed to always want to point northeast for some reason. He debated trying to do something with it. He could always borrow some of the greasy stuff Chi-Chi put in their son's hair every morning. Then he remembered the verbal lashing she gave him last time he tried. His hair stayed down and tamed for all of ten seconds before it sprang back to its natural position with great force. This created a mess of splattered product all over the mirror which took nearly half an hour to clean.
"Goku? Why on Earth are you wearing that?" came the voice of his wife from outside the bathroom's entrance.
Chi-Chi was a little shorter than Goku with porcelain skin and black hair almost always tied in a tight bun. She was wearing her mauve dress—the one that accentuated her figure. This was part of her "looking her best" routine, but Goku couldn't fathom why it made such a difference. Putting on fancier clothes and layers of makeup didn't do much to change her looks in his opinion. In his head, he meant it to be complimentary. She always looked pretty to him. But over the years, he realized he wasn't a fraction eloquent enough to get said message across. Not without sounding completely offensive in the process. After a while, he stopped trying.
"I haven't seen Master Roshi in a long time, Chi-Chi. I'm pretty sure he'd wanna see me in the suit he made. Plus, Krillin and Yamcha are gonna be there. I was thinking we'd end up sparring a lil' bit."
"Can't we have a nice get-together with our friends without you guys turning it into a boxing match?" she groaned at him.
"We don't box…"
"You know what I mean. We're going for some drinks, a nice meal or three, and to catch up with old friends. Not to fight."
"I know, but I was hoping," he spoke, a sheepish look on his face.
There were so many things Goku didn't understand about the woman he married. Why was his passion for martial arts so damning? He wondered if it was a permanent roadblock for them. Something she simply would never understand about him.
"More importantly, our son's going to be with us, remember? He's too young to see you fighting, let alone fighting his godfather. It's too many things he won't understand that I'm not ready to explain to him."
"He's four! Give 'im some credit. Plus, my grandpa started training me younger than that, and I turned out fine."
Chi-Chi let the ensuing silence settle the issue for her.
"All right, all right, I'll change," he said, resigned to his fate. He went to untie his belt when her cool hand touched his wrist.
"No, it's okay. You're right, this is a class reunion, right? An unofficial one, but still. And boys will be boys," she rolled her eyes. "Do me a favor, though? Don't fight around Gohan, okay? Please? If you guys have to spar, go somewhere else for a little while and do it."
"Deal!" Goku beamed, his former happiness returning to his face.
The man's joy was infectious. His wife couldn't help but smile back.
"Besides, I can't deny how good you look in it. Despite how loud it is," she said with a wink. Goku laughed and rubbed the back of his head. Even he could admit a subtle, tasteful outfit the Turtle Hermit gi was not.
"Now go make sure Gohan's ready while I freshen up."
The citrus-clad manchild might as well have skipped out of the room.
Most of the Son family's home on Mount Paozu was modestly decorated. It bore the minimalist aesthetic the vast majority of Capsule houses did. Round ceilings, wide open spaces, bubble-shaped rooms, the architecture on display very non-Euclidean. Goku figured his grandpa would've appreciated the lack of amenities, were he still around. He had been a simple man, after all. It was his firm belief one could get everything they needed out of life through nature and the pursuit of honing one's body. He felt people at large relied too heavily on the conveniences of modern-day living, hence why he shielded his grandson from such things for most of his childhood. This was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it cemented in Goku his innocent disposition, his drive to always do the right thing and dedication towards growing stronger. On the other, it made him ignorant of the outside world. For the longest time, he didn't even know what a girl looked like. Not until that fateful day when he was eight, and his life changed forever.
The childhood home he shared with the old man was his next stop after tending to Gohan. The weather-beaten shack was actually so close by, his adult dwelling practically annexed it. Much as he wanted to go over there immediately, Chi-Chi gave him a task to do. He knew the more important something was, the more of a problem he often had focusing on it. This was something they'd been trying to work on as a couple over the last few years.
Communication was never much of an issue between them. Goku had a terrible poker face, abhorred lying, and almost always said what he felt, usually to a fault. Physicality wasn't a problem, either—the four-year-old down the hall was living proof. In Chi-Chi's eyes, only two things needed ironing out in their marriage: Goku's bad cognitive habits, and making up for the lack of formal education his grandfather gave him. Though they both knew his slowness in that regard wasn't exactly something he could help.
Goku made a left before hitting his front door and strode the extra ten feet to his son's room. He made sure to knock at a decent volume before letting himself in. A child who only left infancy not too long ago didn't need much privacy, assuredly. Nonetheless, their son saw the token gesture as a sign of respect. Why should he have to respect them if they didn't return the favor in kind? At least, that's what the boy proclaimed last time his father entered his room without knocking. Chi-Chi was so proud of their progeny's vocabulary and applied logic. It was her dream their son would someday become a great scholar, perhaps a doctor or scientist. To this end, she taught him to read at only two years old. Goku found that a little unfair since he wasn't allowed to teach him about fighting. He also felt cramming his head with so much schoolwork was robbing him of his childhood, to a degree. But those protests usually went unsung. Now Gohan was four, and likely already smarter than both his parents.
Definitely smarter than me, Goku thought to himself with a combination of pride and envy.
"Gohan? Can I come in?" he asked through the door as he closed his hand around the knob.
"Yup!" exclaimed a high voice from within. Goku went inside.
Gohan (named after Goku's grandfather) stood in the center of the small bedroom. One would expect a typical four-year-old's room to have clutter. Toys, strewn-about clothing, juvenile art supplies. Not Gohan's. His was the portrait of immaculate organization. Everything was arranged on its proper shelf and with a purpose. Nothing was out of place or there by accident. His bed? Made to perfection, not a single crease in the quilts. Moreover, not a speck of dust was present. The living space looked brand-new, almost untouched, save for a few personal effects. Upon his desk was a framed family photo of the three of them, taken shortly after he was born. Next to it was a small black laptop, which was a recent birthday present from his aunt and godmother, Bulma. Goku felt guilty for accepting the lavish gift. Chi-Chi insisted it was something Gohan needed to further his studies, especially since they couldn't afford one on their own. Plus, Bulma was the heiress to the richest, most powerful company in the world. She probably wouldn't have batted an eye at buying the boy a thousand computers instead of one. This point was something Chi-Chi took every available opportunity to emphasize.
Goku's latest birthday present to his son was a three-wheeled bicycle. He'd fashioned it himself out of lumber. Woodworking was hardly his forte, so the front wheel wobbled more than it should've. Several of the flat surfaces remained unpolished, resulting in the occasional tear-eliciting splinter. But it rode. And Gohan loved it. It sat cocked to one side next to his desk, ready for its eventual next go-round the hilltops.
Goku knew the fact he tried his best and his boy appreciated the gesture should've been enough. Even so, every time Gohan completed a homeschooling assignment or played a game on his shiny new electronic toy, it hurt. He couldn't help feeling inadequate. A great many things in his life made him feel inadequate as of late.
"You about ready to go, kiddo?" Goku asked, shaking away his distraction.
"Almost," the little tyke said as he finished the Windsor knot on his tie.
His father frowned, unable to fathom why Chi-Chi was making him dress in a dark-green suit. He knew it was to make him look dressy, polite. That this was a special occasion, and they should all dress accordingly. Goku thought the attempt only served to make the boy look like a ventriloquist dummy.
"Aren't you a little uncomfortable in that, bud?" Goku questioned. He wondered how he wasn't sweating to death in that white button up, tie, and sport jacket combo. He tried hard not to talk down to him, to use his normal speech pattern. Yet another in his long list of habits he was sick of being chastised for. The time he would soon get to spend with his friends and mentor could not come fast enough.
"It's okay. A little tight. I'm fine," Gohan replied, stretching his arms out to his sides, trying to let the fabric breathe.
"Wouldn't you rather put on something else? You sure you wanna look like your mom dressed you?" he prodded. He needed to tread lightly, otherwise, he'd be in for another argument the whole way to Master Roshi's.
"But she didn't dress me."
"I know. She still picked your outfit, though, right? If you could choose, wouldn't you put something else on?"
Gohan swiveled his foot on the hardwood floor. He clasped his hands behind his back, sank his chin into his small chest. This was the routine he put on every time he was thinking something he wanted to say. Often, the boy stayed silent, feeling it better not to complicate things.
"Well…I don't wanna make Momma upset. I guess I would add something if I could."
"What would you add, bud? Go ahead, it's okay!" his dad exclaimed, crouching down to speak to him at eye level.
The little boy hesitated for a moment before dashing to his closet. He knew exactly what he wanted, where it was. Goku never saw this kind of nervous fidgeting out of him unless he needed to pee and there was no bathroom in sight.
Gohan returned a few seconds later with two articles of clothing. He'd grabbed the long-bottomed, sleeveless ceremonial coat Goku handed down to him from when he was a boy. It was a bright yellow with red trim. A tad ostentatious, maybe, but it looked great on him. He pulled it on over his suit, reaching behind and clasping it closed. He then donned the matching red and yellow puffy hat. The one with the shiny orange bauble hot-glued to its top.
Goku smirked. A wave of nostalgia washed over him.
"That's more like it," he said with a nod, admiring his son's new look. Amazing what letting him express himself a little could do. It brought the whole ensemble together. Ever the boy genius, Gohan made two very simple alterations that solved the puzzle. Made the outfit whole. As a bonus, the hat covered up the awful bowl cut Chi-Chi gave him a week prior. It was unspoken between the father and son this could be nothing except a good thing.
"I feel better," Gohan said matter-of-factly. Goku stood and gave his shoulder a squeeze.
"Good," he affirmed.
As he looked down at the child, he stared at the orb on his head. The one that appeared almost iridescent in certain lights. The one with the four stars drifting inside, as if suspended in some sort of mercurial fluid. Images and memories came flooding back to him. Memories of being young, going on adventures with Bulma and the gang, seeing the world. Scouring the globe for the rest of those mysterious balls. Oh, how time flew by. Those days seemed like eons ago. His life had calmed down considerably since then. These days, a sparring match with his friends was the most excitement he could hope for, even as a father.
"Gohan, not you too!" his mother exclaimed from the open doorway. Goku tightened his lips, readying himself for the onslaught.
"It's fine, Chi-Chi. Let 'im wear what he wants."
"Besides, isn't it gonna be cold, Mommy?" Gohan asked as he shot a sidelong glance at Goku. It took him some thought to comprehend what he was getting at, then it finally hit him.
"Yeah! Chi-Chi, the Nimbus doesn't have a roof or anything like our car. And it moves pretty fast. You guys might be freezing if you don't wear coats. Especially if we wanna get there fast? We'll have to go even higher up," Goku explained, not sounding at all convincing. He was sure his wife could see right through the ruse, even if it was somewhat in the realm of plausibility.
"Gohan, fact-check your daddy. Is he right?" Chi-Chi asked with a monotone. She folded her arms, refusing to break eye contact with her husband.
"I think so. The greater the altitude, the thinner and colder the air, right? Combine that with high speeds and we might even need more coats."
There was a pause before Chi-Chi sighed. At last, she acquiesced.
"All right. Fine. I picked some of your outfit, you picked some of it. What do we call that, Honey?" she asked, turning this into a teachable moment for Goku. She only ever called him Honey. Gohan most often got the designation of Sweetie or Pumpkin.
Goku attempted to look at Gohan with only his peripheral vision, panic enveloping him. He saw the boy mouth a word, trying very hard to be subtle. He had to do it twice more before at last his father got it.
"Oh—a compromise!" Goku shouted, louder than he intended, shocked and delighted he managed to get it on his own. For the most part.
Chi-Chi approached and planted a kiss on his cheek, satisfied.
"Very good. Now, let's get going. I'm hoping Bulma brought quite the spread. Not like she can't afford to."
The Flying Nimbus was a curiosity, even to those well-versed in magical phenomena. Not even Master Roshi could explain its origins before bequeathing it to his star pupil. Both he and Goku knew only two things for certain about the mysterious yellow artifact: when used to fly, it would not expend the precious energies of its passengers, and only those pure of intention, noble of heart could ride it.
Goku was reluctant to use it for the trip to Roshi's. He knew it was childish. Still, it was one of the few relics left from his days as a traveling adventurer. He didn't like the idea of sharing it. Taking Gohan for the occasional ride was one thing. Chi-Chi coming onto it almost felt like a violation. He felt like some things needed to stay only his, even though he knew marriage usually entailed sharing everything. Or so he'd been told, ad nauseum. Often times, he felt such an arrangement was—at its very design—flawed, infringing on both their respective freedoms. Yet another point of contention he attempted to verbalize in the past. That ordeal only ended in tears.
Pure of intention. Noble of heart. Goku believed this caveat would spare him and his son the obligation of bringing Chi-Chi, and he wouldn't be saddled with any of the requisite guilt. He figured his wife's occasional meanness directed towards him, her singular focus on their son's schooling at the expense of other, finer things in life would be her downfall. That they'd be enough to make her drop right through the little yellow cloud if sat upon. He was even ready to feign disappointment if it happened. She'd have to realize she'd be better off staying at home, possibly inviting her father over for some company. It wasn't as if they could drive to their destination. That'd eat up their gas budget for a year, not to mention they'd stop in their tracks as soon as they hit water. Goku was strong, no doubt. But even he wasn't sure he could carry both his wife and son the remaining distance safely. Taking one of them at a time would be a pain and take forever. And while he was sure Bulma wouldn't mind picking them up, it'd be a several-hour trip out of her way. And it would further diminish the time they would all have to spend together.
All should've gone according to plan. Though, as with many things, Goku was wrong. Chi-Chi was able to stay aloft on the Nimbus just fine. In retrospect, he didn't know why this surprised him. Her intentions, while lacking in broader horizons, were nonetheless noble. What was a purer pursuit than the happiness and prosperity of one's own child? At least he would still be able to enjoy the ride guilt-free, if a little smothered. Or, so he thought. He still ended up beating himself up over his secret internal plotting.
Goku possessed an unfortunate tendency to deflect, project, and misplace blame. He often resented Chi-Chi for things she couldn't begin to control. Foibles that were his and his alone. Each time this occurred, he was forced to confront the notion his wife was only trying to help him grow up, and he simply didn't want to.
Sometimes, he wondered why he was still able to sit on the Nimbus without falling through.
The ride was a smooth one. Chi-Chi fretted over the dizzying heights for the first twenty- minutes or so. After a while, she calmed down. Gohan had no problem standing atop the Nimbus, being an innocent child. Even so, his mother didn't completely trust it. She forced the boy to stay in her lap with her arms wrapped around him. Goku sat cross-legged two inches in front of them, steering the vehicle with his mind. The soft, smoky puttering noise it emitted delighted his son to no end.
"How much longer, Honey?" Chi-Chi asked, trying to make herself heard over the high wind.
"We're almost at the ocean. Once we hit, should only be another hour," Goku said over his shoulder. This was a guesstimate, at best. He knew any answer sounding confident enough would satisfy her.
Chi-Chi nodded before lifting Gohan and scooting forward to close the gap between them. Goku found himself puzzled when he felt his boy's body squish gently into his back. Chi-Chi's hands came around front to rest against his broad chest, sandwiching the three of them. Once the initial confusion abated, he sank into the hold. He delighted in the feeling, the tenderness. He closed his eyes and smiled.
He wasn't sure why, but an odd feeling came over him. A warmness, a sense of safety and comfort. That wasn't the strange part. What was strange was it also felt sad, in a way. Like some voice outside his own and yet his own all the same was telling him to cherish this moment. To let his gripes with Chi-Chi and his disinterest in parenthood melt away, if only for a while. An abstract sense he might not get too many more of these perfect snapshots in time. Something imploring him to be present and mindful. To enjoy it while he could.
He lost himself in the closeness with his family. He drank it in, almost wishing it would never end. One of the few and far-between instances when his head was clear. When his thoughts didn't feel encumbered by his handicap. He could revel unabashed in what was his. The gifts given to him.
Too soon, the Nimbus decreased in speed, beginning its slow descent. Before long, it was mere feet above the gentle lapping waves, coasting to a stop. When Goku opened his eyes next, the salty spray of the ocean whizzing by was no longer hitting his cheeks. The cloud he sat on was now hovering in place at the shoreline of an island. An island large enough to hold a single landmark.
Kame House was always a special place for Goku and friends. It acted as a totem, of sorts. Four walls of white wood and salmon-pink plaster holding innumerable memories within. Its moniker was stenciled in gigantic red letters above the front door awning. The roof was a matching shade of coral. Surrounding the house was a lush green lawn which bled into the beach bordering the landmass. A trio of palm trees and pearlescent folding chairs dotted the front yard. One such seat bore the weight of the bungalow's sleeping owner.
Kame House. It was the home of their teacher. Their base of operations whenever a war needed fighting. A safe haven in their darkest hours. It stood the test of time, braving even the most tremendous of oceanic storms, the most brazen of attacks. It was a testament to the bond fostered by the Turtle Hermit style of fighting and the values it taught.
The pursuit of strength to protect that which matters most.
Chi-Chi put her days of fighting behind her long ago. Nonetheless, she always admired the teachings of Goku's school. To think, a cantankerous hermit's defining life message was one of brotherhood and companionship. The irony was not lost on her.
Kame House. There was no other place like it. More than he had in quite a while, Goku immediately felt at home.
"Hey, Master Roshi!" Goku shouted with glee. He hopped off the Nimbus and bounded across the beach towards the old man. At the bellow of his name, Roshi jumped with fright. The dirty magazine shielding his face from the sun slid down to his chest.
"Eh? Goku, s'that you, m'boy?" the geezer muttered. He used a free hand to adjust his tortoiseshell sunglasses. Before he knew it, his favorite student was a foot from him. This caused the geriatric to drop from his seat in shock.
"Master Roshi, it's so great to see you!" Goku yelled. He laughed as he grabbed Roshi by the shoulders and yanked him to his feet.
"Criminy, Goku—yer gonna pull this old fool's arms outta their sockets!" Roshi snapped, still shaking away the disorientation of awakening from slumber.
"Sorry, Master. Guess I don't know my own strength," Goku breathed amidst his jubilant tittering.
"Never did," Roshi replied, letting his skin-mag fall to the ground. He patted the strewn-about sand from his crimson button-up and beige cargo shorts. "Now, lemme get a look at ya, sonny. Been too long."
Roshi banished the last of his delirium, his mental faculties finally back in full force. He gave his pupil a once-over as he circled him, looked him up and down. He ran a hand through the eggshell-colored beard that hung to his waistline.
"My, my. So much can change in five years. I remember when you were half as tall as me. Now I'm half as tall as you! Heh. The new duds look good on you. You should make a point to visit more often."
"I know, I know," Goku cringed, rubbing the back of his head with one hand. "Sorry about that. I'm so bad at keeping in touch. Just ask Krillin. I'm gonna try to get better about it, I promise."
"You're right, you are terrible at it," came a raspy voice from Kame House's doorway.
Goku hadn't noticed the short man with thick black eyebrows, flat nose and matching Turtle Hermit gi (save for the blue undershirt) leaning against the open screen door. He pushed himself off, letting it clack closed behind him. As he stepped off the porch, the shadow enveloping him receded. A flare of sunlight sparkled off his shaved head.
"KRILLIN!" Goku roared with delight. He dashed over to his best friend and picked him up by the waist. He twirled him around in the air much the way he did for Gohan. Krillin usually would've balked at such an over-the-top display of affection, not to mention it was a blatant exploitation of the duo's size difference. He pushed those thoughts away, elated to see his old pal again.
After he put him down, "Sheesh, I remember when Goku and I were the same height, Roshi. It's good to see you, buddy."
"You too," Goku spoke. At this rate, he was going to develop premature laugh lines.
Goku looked over his shoulder after hearing the sound of a throat clearing. He'd forgotten he wasn't there alone. Chi-Chi stepped off the Nimbus before setting Gohan on the ground in front of her. She made sure to hold one of his tiny hands as they made their way closer.
"Oh, crap. Sorry, guys! Master Roshi, I know I've told you a lot about 'im, but allow me to introduce my son, Gohan!" Goku exclaimed, gesturing with both hands in the boy's direction.
"Well, well," Roshi said with a light cackle. He bent forward to get a better look. Chi-Chi released Gohan's hand so he could step forward unabated. The boy found himself fascinated, having never seen a person so old.
Doubt he'll ever meet anyone older, Chi-Chi mused to herself.
"Hey, Chi'ch," Krillin uttered with a smile. The two exchanged a warm hug.
"Hey yourself, Krillin. How are you? You give Goku so much guff about keeping in touch, but where've you been lately?" she responded with a lilt of playful sarcasm to her tone.
"I know, I'm sorry. Job hunting ain't easy. You know how it is," said Krillin as he mimicked Goku's nervous routine to a tee. They shared a laugh.
"Gohan, huh? Named him after yer ol' grandad, didja?" Roshi said to Goku after making a few funny faces at the kid, producing giggle after giggle.
"Yep. I wish he was here. I know he would've loved to see you," Goku said, a hint of solemnity in his words.
"Ah, you don't hafta tell me. But the days when he was my student were long, long ago. Today's about you boys, the new blood. Not geezers like me an' him."
"Hello, Master Roshi," Chi-Chi piped in as she delivered a quick bow. Goku and Krillin noted their own impoliteness and followed suit in unison. Roshi nodded at Chi-Chi while adjusting his glasses and fluttering his white eyebrows. His lecherous gaze lingered on her ample figure a little longer than she would've liked.
"Gohan, don't forget your manners. What do we say?" said his mother.
Gohan placed his hands flat on his sides and performed a far more reverential bow than the rest of the group.
"Greetings, Master Roshi. My name is Gohan Son. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Nice to meet you, m'boy. Did yer mom write that script for ya, or didja come up with it all on yer own?"
Goku and Krillin went wide-eyed. Gohan only tilted his head, not quite grasping the question.
Chi-Chi narrowed her gaze before bending forward. She plucked the nudie magazine from the ground and rolled it into a tight tube.
"What can I say? I raised him right," Chi-Chi said before she swatted Roshi's bare scalp. He yowled with pain and rubbed the spot sure to become a goose egg. She dropped the magazine back to the ground, its usefulness expended.
"How ya doin', Gohan? You remember your uncle Krillin, doncha?" the boy's godfather asked as he tried to diffuse the tension. Gohan grinned wide and stuck out his arms. Krillin understood this as his cue to hoist the little one up onto his shoulders.
Chi-Chi entwined herself around Goku's arm and rested her temple against him. Krillin was her favorite of Goku's boyhood friends, next to Bulma. She loved watching him and Gohan play together. She knew the perpetually-single young man would make an excellent father someday. She smiled while she took in the adorable sight.
"Say, Goku, is that what I think it is on his hat?" Roshi asked. He pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, the soreness of his forehead subsiding. Krillin tried his best to look up and
through the spiderweb of minuscule fingers around his face.
"Huh. Yeah, isn't that your guys' Dragon Ball? Pretty unsafe to let him walk around with it. I mean, isn't that what happened last—"
Chi-Chi shot Krillin a look that he felt. He made eye contact with her as she shook her head. Krillin sucked his lips and nodded in recognition.
"One of the reasons I wanted to pick his outfit today. Neither of my boys would have it," said Chi-Chi. She tried not to say it too loud, lest Gohan hear. He was too busy examining the six dots branded to Krillin's brow to comprehend what they were talking about anyway.
The group didn't notice the approach of the cream-colored Capsule Copter. Not until the roar of its engine and the whirr of its blades were deafening. It did an impressive bank around the perimeter of the island. A wave of sand and aerosolized seawater shot in every direction. Goku, Roshi, and Chi-Chi coughed in protest. Gohan took his hands off his godfather's head to shield his ears from the upsetting noise. Krillin shrugged his shoulders to pin the child's legs in place while he threw his hands upward. He managed to block the sand and saltwater from hitting the little guy. He ended up taking a faceful himself instead.
The copter came to a halt on the edge of the beach as its rotor disengaged. The passenger's side door swung open, letting out an attractive young woman. She had teal hair that stretched to the nape of her neck. She wore a crimson headband, dull brown clam-diggers, black and yellow tennis shoes, red socks, and a two-toned cream and cobalt sweatshirt with a gray tank top beneath, layered over a navy-blue sports bra. The Capsule Corp. logo shone on her belt buckle. She exited the vehicle already in mid-argument.
"You are such a jerk! I told you they'd all be outside. Why do you always have to show off for everybody!?" Bulma screamed. She slammed the door shut behind her. The driver's side swung open and her boyfriend Yamcha spilled out. He nearly fell into the water, barely catching himself with the open door in the nick of time.
"Sorry, babe! You never let me drive. I wanted to have some fun, thought they'd enjoy the show," he guffawed. His surfer bro cadence was perplexing, definitely not typical of the desert he grew up in.
Yamcha was about as tall as Goku with long, wild black hair. He too wore a matching Turtle Hermit getup, though his omitted the undershirt like Krillin's. Setting himself apart was the alternating blue and white athletic tape running up his wrists, as well as the X-shaped scar on his left cheek. That one was still dark and prominent. The one going down his right eye was healing quite nicely, only visible anymore if you were looking for it.
"Bulma, Yamcha!" Goku exclaimed between hacking fits.
The couple trotted up the beach as everyone else was recovering from the effects of the mini-hurricane. Bulma embraced everyone but Master Roshi in a death grip of a hug, one by one.
"I am so glad to see you all! Yes, even you, Roshi," Bulma said. She had a cocked backhand prepped for the old man in case his senses forsook him and he decided to get grabby. "Sorry my 'better half' over here decided to dust you all," she continued before delivering Yamcha a dead arm. He winced it away and gave Goku, Krillin, and Roshi fist bumps. He waved wordlessly at Chi-Chi.
Two more passengers exited the helicopter. One was a squat, long-eared pig walking on hind legs. He wore an asparagus green button-up coat and slacks with matching beret. Floating in the air behind was a blue-gray and tan cat with an especially lengthy tail.
"I…wasn't aware Puar and Oolong were coming," Chi-Chi said to no one in particular.
A pair of talking animals who can transform into any shape they wish. Won't that be fun to explain to our son? Chi-Chi pondered.
"They're our friends, too," Goku spoke low.
"I know. I just wish someone would've told me so I could've prepared Gohan."
"Prepared him for what? They're harmless!"
"They're magical creatures, Goku. We agreed Gohan would have a normal upbringing. Even riding the Nimbus is pushing it."
The husband and wife stopped arguing after realizing how quiet it became around them. Everyone was staring, including Oolong, who tapped his cloven foot with folded arms. Puar's midair drift came to a rest on Yamcha's shoulder.
Evidently, the couple's tiff had escalated above whispers.
"I am. So sorry," Chi-Chi said, her normally pale face bright red.
"It's okay, Chi'ch. Let's go inside and catch up," Bulma spoke. She made a come-hither gesture as she headed toward the front door.
"Hey, what about the eats?" Roshi grumbled.
Bulma responded by removing what looked like a makeup kit from her coat pocket. As she popped the clasp and opened it, its contents were revealed not to be a smattering of beauty products. Instead, a row of pill-shaped Capsules laid inside. She removed one with an orange label, thumbed the button and tossed it in front of the boys. No more than two seconds later, the Capsule exploded—not with fire and smoke, but steam. Once the cloud cleared, a six-foot-long table remained in the Capsule's place. It held enough food to feed an army. Everything from racks of barbecued ribs to rows of sub sandwiches. Plates of bacon, trays of grilled veggies, pots of soup, and massive bowls of rice and noodles rounded out the buffet.
"Dig in," Bulma said with a wink.
The gaggle of fighters didn't even hear her over the sound of their own smacking jowls. They attacked the smörgåsbord before them with reckless abandon. Bulma seized Chi-Chi by the wrist and tugged her to the door.
"Don't worry, I saved a Catering Capsule for us."
"You always were the smart one," said Chi-Chi with immense gratitude.
"I try. Now, all we need is my godson. Gohan!" Bulma yelled over the cacophony of gnashing teeth and smacking lips.
She spotted the boy a few feet away from the tangle of hungry men. He was near the displaced cat and pig, looking confused about what he should be doing. Once he heard his aunt's call, he turned and dashed towards her. She squatted down and opened her arms to catch him when he leaped the two steps leading up the porch.
"There he is! There's my sweet little munchkin!" Bulma exclaimed. She squeezed Gohan tight and showered his doughy cheeks with kisses. With child in tow, the ladies made their way into Kame House, Puar and Oolong deciding it best to follow in after them.
Now, this was the sort of get-together she had in mind.
Chi-Chi and Bulma sat side-by-side on Master Roshi's futon on the second story of Kame House. They made sure to stay on the absolute edge, and for good reason. They were wary of how (and if) the old pervert maintained the cleanliness of his sheets.
Kame House's roof began at the second story's floor. This caused the walls of the bedroom to slant upwards until the ceiling became one long corner. At their backs was the sole upstairs window. Should they have desired, they could've moved to the other end of the bed and watched the commotion going on outside. In the backyard was the gaggle of testosterone-infused fighters. The sparring was already breaking out, the boys eager to test out their newest techniques on each other. But the girls intended to get away, to talk and to kick back.
In front of them towards the middle of the room was their own private Catering Capsule worth of snacks. Atop the table was a bounty of cheeses, a bevy of succulent fruits. Moist cakes dotted the tan surface, along with punchbowls of salad. Bordering those were trays of cocktail shrimp and a veritable mountain of finger sandwiches. Most important of all were the six bottles of wine the ladies intended to hoard all to themselves. Bulma also brought a cooler stored in another DynoCap, filled to the brim with beer and sodas for the boys to enjoy later.
Chi-Chi couldn't begin to fathom what made those wonderful Capsules work the way they did. She hoped Gohan would someday soon have the knowledge to school her a bit in the subject. The only things she knew for certain she gleaned via osmosis from news, magazines, and books. And of course, the poor attempts at explanation Bulma attempted in the past. The blue-haired bearer of seven PhDs wasn't great at dumbing things down. She struggled with making hard science intelligible for a layman. Her father excelled at it, which likely contributed to their company's runaway success.
Bulma's father developed the namesakes of the Capsule Corporation when she was a girl. The tiny devices capable of shrinking and storing most anything took only a few years to catch on. They were starting to become all the rage as Chi-Chi was attaining adolescence. By the time she was grown, they changed the landscape, literally and figuratively. It was a technological revolution, unlike anything the world had ever seen. The Capsule Corp. design sense which Dr. Brief pioneered came to proliferate every facet of society. Everything was round, celebrating curves and decrying angles. Anything built henceforth kept miniaturization and portability in mind. Sleek, stylish, trendy gadgetry blurring the lines between machinery and wizardry. Even city planning took into great consideration how best to accommodate Capsule tech. No other private organization ever wielded so much power, so much political influence. If the Brief family so wished, they very well could've enslaved the world overnight. Some might suggest they already did. The people of Earth were clueless as to how lucky they were Capsule Corp. collectively desired nothing more than the betterment of mankind through science. And Bulma was the new face of the business, set to inherit it all once her dad finally decided to retire. The company's prospects for the future looked bright, especially considering Bulma was every bit the genius her father was, and then some. For this and more, she was quite the celebrity. She was also the world's most sought-after bachelorette. Combined with Yamcha's stellar baseball career, it was a wonder they ever got a moment's peace.
Chi-Chi ate with ravenous intent. Only after her third plate and second glass of wine did she notice Bulma watching her with a wry smile. She swallowed her latest gulp, a bashful look creeping across her face.
"Sooo, when's Gohan's little brother due?"
"I'm not pregnant, I'm hungry. I'm sorry. I'm being so rude today."
"It's fine, Chi'ch!" Bulma chortled, "Eat up. There's plenty more where that came from. There'll be lots of leftovers for you guys to take home, too. Besides, I know you must be craving something other than fish."
"Ugh, tell me about it. It's all Goku ever catches for us! At least it's healthy. He hates hunting anything that looks cute, so we never get anything in the way of variety."
"Don't you guys have a lot of bears in your neck of the woods? I've heard they can be pretty tasty if cooked right. We both know Goku's taken down much worse."
"He thinks bears are cute, too! Especially when they're angry," Chi-Chi tried to say with exasperation, but couldn't help laughing. Bulma joined her in the fit.
Off in the corner, Gohan sat on the hardwood floor. He clapped like mad as Oolong and Puar took turns entertaining the child. He would call out a type of animal or household object, and the pair would race to turn into a facsimile of it. The faster and more accurate transformation won the round. Most of the time they were spot-on but adding the speed element tripped them up once in a while. This provided the boy even more amusement. They also made sure to put a friendly face on anything that appeared dangerous or scary.
Chi-Chi grew restless as she took in the display. Bulma noticed her discomfort and took her free hand.
"I promise you, it's okay, Chi'ch. You know Puar loves kids. And Oolong might be from the Turtle Hermit School of Inappropriate Behavior, but he would never do anything to upset or scar your son."
"I know. They're fine, really. And I'm getting used to them being around Gohan. It has nothing to do with their character."
"Then what is it?" Bulma pleaded, concern in her eyes. She knew Chi-Chi well enough to know something wasn't wrong, though not exactly right, either. This was a skill Goku, for all his prowess, had yet to master.
Chi-Chi sighed. "It's just…ever since last year, Goku and I made an arrangement. We agreed we weren't going to expose him to any more magical stuff. Not until he was older and could properly contextualize it. I want him to be a scientist, Bulma. Like you. Scientists need a fundamental understanding of how the world works. What's possible and what isn't. It frames their minds, gives them a sense of placement and reality. That's what all the books we've gotten him teach, right? How do magical creatures fit into it all? Things walking and talking but not human? Beings among us who might as well be gods? It all flies in the face of what he's been learning. I can't help feeling like it's going to damage him in the long run."
"Uh-huh. How 'bout you tell me what's really wrong, Chi'ch?" Bulma said with narrow eyes. Chi-Chi furrowed her brow, uncomprehending.
"W-what? What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean. 'I'm a scientist, too', remember? You think all the things we've been through, all the things we've seen have damaged me?"
"Well. No. Still. You didn't get exposed to any of it until you were a teenager."
"So? Age doesn't prepare you for wish-granting dragons. Giant robots piloted by little blue dictators. A green demon who spits out monsters. Maybe it's not the world we were born into. It's definitely the world we live in. Best Gohan get used to it now while he's still young. Why make him totally realign all his beliefs during his formative years? I mean, that's kinda supposed to happen, but about normal things like your body, what you wanna do with your life, yadda-yadda."
Chi-Chi stayed quiet, contemplating.
"Magic didn't damage me, Chi'ch. If anything, it woke me up. Showed me what's truly possible. I wouldn't want to go back to being in the dark about it all."
"I suppose you have a point," she agreed. Bulma winked at her.
"Course I do. Comes with the territory of being the smartest chick on the planet."
Chi-Chi rolled her eyes. "Always so humble."
The ladies downed the rest of their wine glasses. A few feet away, Oolong botched turning into a sofa, coming out somewhat pretzel-shaped. Gohan and Puar rolled on the floor, inconsolable.
"So, what's really up, babe?" Bulma asked again as she poured them each another glass.
It took a long time before Chi-Chi answered.
"I thought I was going to lose him, Bulma. Last year…he almost died."
"He never came that close," Bulma interjected. Chi-Chi waved it off.
"Don't sugarcoat it. Goku's not good at holding back details. He told me everything."
Bulma winced. She made a mental note to have Krillin do the debriefing if another such situation ever occurred. Kami forbid.
"It's okay. I've come to terms with it. Much as I can, at least. So, my son got kidnapped and I couldn't do anything to save him. So what? Happens, right?"
"No. It doesn't just happen. Not to regular people. Sadly, goes along with the territory of who we are. The circles we run in."
"Y'see, that's it, though. We're these kinds of people. We spent our youth going on crusades, risking death at every turn. Spitting in the faces of maniacs with designs on the world. Those sorts of things don't get forgotten. They don't go away. Not unless you make them.
"After we got Gohan back, I couldn't bear the idea of that being the first time. The first time I would have to endure wondering if I was ever going to see my little boy again. I made Goku swear to me it would be the last. We'd never put our son in danger, keep him away from that life. We would get his tail surgically removed, rather than purified. We'd keep our Dragon Ball for ornamental purposes and nothing else. We wouldn't tell Gohan what the world is really like until we were ready," Chi-Chi breathed. She tossed around a thought before groaning in frustration. "Fine, until I'm ready. The more magic we keep from him, the less can come to hurt him."
Bulma looked into her lap. She swirled her wine, listless.
"Yeah. I guess you've got a point, too. I don't think it's quite right to overprotect him. But I'm not a mom. I can't know how it feels."
At this, Chi-Chi forgot the weight on her shoulders for a moment. She put her hand on Bulma's this time. She flashed her a reassuring look.
"You will. Someday. If you want to."
"Pffft," she raspberried, "I'm too busy to have kids. I'm not even so sure I want them. Definitely not with Yamcha. Unless he decides out of the blue to do a lot of growing up."
"He could. Look at Goku. Even though he drives me up a wall sometimes, he's come a long way. Even as a little girl, I knew he was never going to be my picture of a 'perfect' husband. I tried to talk myself out of him on more than one occasion. He has a way of worming his way into your heart, though."
"You can say that again," Bulma smiled.
Chi-Chi cocked her head. This got her curious.
"Wait. Did you have a crush on him?" she asked, not with anger, but incredulity.
"Nah. Not really. Maybe a tiny bit. Okay, a little. You spend so much time traveling the world with somebody, some weird feelings are bound to crop up. Nothing ever happened, though.
"One day, the last World Martial Arts Tournament rolled around. It was the first time I'd seen him since his big growth spurt. My first thought was, 'Mmm, what a man!' I guess it would've been the first time for you, too, so you can relate. For a hot second, I juggled the idea of ditching Yamcha and trying my luck. He and I'd been together almost a decade by then, and he never changes. Needless to say, I was a little frustrated.
"Then, you came along. You and Goku hadn't seen each other in forever, and the look in his eyes…it was the first time I'd ever seen him stunned. And I've watched him fight literal nightmares. I didn't have the heart to try anything afterward. I knew you guys were made for each other. Imperfections and all."
Chi-Chi somehow managed to look flattered and sad at the same time.
"Sorry."
"Don't be. Never would've worked out between us. I'm too smart for him."
Chi-Chi chucked her on the shoulder.
"What, and I'm not?"
"No, you are! Exactly my point. If you're too smart for him, imagine how insufferable it'd be for me," Bulma said, trying to save face, failing. Chi-Chi considered grabbing one of Roshi's pillows and swatting her upside the head with it.
"Okay, let's be real. Goku? Not the sharpest tool in the shed. Don't take offense, you know it's true. And I've known him and palled around with him longer than you. I've got seniority here," Bulma spoke. She held up her index finger to halt her, having an idea where Chi-Chi's thoughts were drifting to. "Yamcha's not a whole lot better, though. And at least Goku's heart is in the right place. At least you know he cares, even if he has issues showing it."
Chi-Chi nodded. She rolled her shoulders, the blush returning to her face.
Bulma smiled. She ran a hand through her hair, lost in memory.
"He's a fixer-upper, for sure. All the same, don't take your man for granted, Chi'ch. What Goku might lack in brains or common sense, he more than makes up for in moral fiber. I've never met a person so good. A person so just. Somebody who'll risk life and limb to do the right thing. Someone who'll push past every limit he has because he doesn't have any. It's why you can trust him with your life. It's why whenever it hits the fan, he's the guy you want by your side. Why I knew he'd bring Gohan home safe. Sure, I was scared, too. But I've never doubted that man or his abilities for one second. He can do anything. It's one of the many reasons I love him. It's not a romantic love, y'know? I love him as a person, for who he is. What he is. What he stands for. What he's done.
"Listen. You're the best mom anyone could ask for. You fought with all your heart to protect your son, even when you knew you didn't stand a chance. You want only to give him everything you and Goku never had. There's nothing better you could aspire to. That's why I think you and Goku actually complement each other super well. Why you make great parents. It doesn't matter what you do or don't shield Gohan from. So long as he has you two."
Tears welled up in Chi-Chi's eyes. She sniffled and wiped them away with the back of her fist.
"I'll drink to that," she said as they clinked glasses.
Hours later, once the sun went down, the whole of the gang was reunited, save for Master Roshi. The adults all sat on the white rug in the center of Kame House's living room. The coffee table before them was littered with the combined remains of another buffet, as well as innumerable empty alcohol containers. While the grown-ups continued to share in drink and merriment, Gohan sat on the crimson L-couch with a can of sugar-free soda, more than a little bored. Puar and Oolong flanked him on each side but were themselves too inebriated to provide much distraction for the boy.
"And another thing," Oolong blathered. His husky voice made his slurred speech even less intelligible. "Would it kill you people to have some common decency? Do you have to bring pork products to every one of these outings?"
"Come off it, Oolong, you know we don't mean anything by it," Yamcha laughed. The pig rounded on him.
"It's insensitive is what it is! How would you feel if I brought human jerky with me every time we all hung out?" he cried with indignation.
"Are you sure you're even a pig?" Bulma asked with a smirk.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he snorted in derision.
"Now you mention it, I've never seen another pig with ears so long," Goku wondered aloud.
"How dare you!?"
"He makes a point, my friend. You can turn into pretty much whatever you want, right? How do we even know that's your true form?" Bulma continued, egging him on.
"The audacity of you cretins!"
"It's his real form, I can attest," Puar squeaked.
"I don't even wanna know how you know," Yamcha snickered, prompting Puar to nip at him.
The laughter filling the room was cut off by the screen door swinging open. Master Roshi reappeared wearing a large backpack resembling the shell of a sea turtle. He made his way across the room in silence. Once at the edge of the sofa, he bent his knees and carefully dropped his backpack before sitting down cross-legged. A moment later, the pack's straps unfurled on their own, revealing themselves to be four large, leathery appendages. The shell righted itself on the carpet before a beaked head emerged from the front with an audible pop.
Gohan gasped. He seemed to be the only one surprised Roshi's backpack was, in fact, a living, breathing loggerhead turtle.
"Gohan, meet Turtle. Turtle, meet Gohan," Roshi croaked as he snapped open the tab on a fresh can of beer.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Gohan. I knew your namesake quite well. Your great-grandfather was an extraordinary man," Turtle spoke, his delivery slow and measured. He stuck out a brown, scaly flipper for Gohan to shake. The boy hesitated to stick out his own hand.
"It's okay, Pumpkin," Chi-Chi urged him. With that, he accepted the handshake enthusiastically. The creature bowed his head and flattened himself a bit on the carpet, gesturing for Gohan to mount him. The boy eagerly climbed atop his back, now sitting at eye-level with most everyone. He lightly patted the shell beneath him with glee.
"Wow, can all animals talk?" Gohan asked the group. A few of them chuckled, others rubbed the backs of their heads, unsure how to answer. Such a revelation would certainly fly in the face of the diligent training he underwent during infancy regarding which types of beasts made which noises.
"Only the really special ones," Krillin piped in, much to Chi-Chi's relief. Not that the answer wasn't true, but it was a far more succinct explanation than the one she'd been conjuring.
"Glad you could make it, Turtle. How've you been?" Goku asked in-between hiccups.
"Oh, I've been all right. Mostly just swimming, relaxing on the beach, doing my best to keep this old man true to his vows."
"The hell you say!" Roshi barked. Turtle cocked his head in surprise, a gesture far more exaggerated than it would've been on a person due to his long, twisty neck.
"Don't you play innocent with me, Master. The magazines you read? The way you carry on around women? It's no way for a teacher to act! It's not befitting a man of your influence."
"My business is my business. You're lucky I don't turn ya into soup for yer sass!"
The gathering became a chorus of laughter once again. Yamcha leaned back and crushed the empty can in his grasp.
"Boy, if this doesn't remind me of old times," he sighed happily. Bulma lightly scratched his shoulder. The nostalgia bug was biting her, too. A smile stretched across her face as she observed the room, every inch of it exuding memories like water leaking from a wet sponge.
"Tell me about it. Don't worry, Turtle. We'd never let Master Roshi go all Bandit King on you," Krillin said, patting the weathered sea creature on the head. He closed his eyes and threw himself into the pet.
"What's a Bandit King?" Gohan asked. Without thinking, Krillin explained.
"He was this gigantic bear—I think he was a bear. Right, Goku? Yeah, he was this huge bear in a suit of armor with a super big broadsword. He used to roam around Mt. Paozu, thought he was gonna take over the whole place, become 'King of the Forest' or some such nonsense. Had a hankering for turtle meat, happened upon our buddy here, almost swallowed him whole. Your dad set him straight, though."
Chi-Chi cleared her throat in protest. Krillin didn't notice it.
"Really? What did he do?" said Gohan, begging him to continue.
"Why, he beat 'im up, of course! Mind you, your dad was like, eight years old, barely taller than you, and the Bandit King was at least ten feet tall. Maybe fifteen? I dunno, wasn't there, but I've heard the story dozens of times. Anyway, Goku saved Turtle's life. He was so grateful, he wanted to return the favor. Bulma and your dad were traveling together, see? They were both small and light enough to fit on Turtle's back, so they rode him all the way here to Kame House. Then he introduced them to Master Roshi."
"Wow," Gohan marveled.
"Oh geez, don't remind me of that day," Bulma groaned as she slapped her forehead with her palm.
"Why? Just because you flashed the old pervert for his Dragon Ball?"
"KRILLIN!" Chi-Chi shouted. She slammed her fist on the table and created an avalanche of drink containers. Most of the group jumped with surprise, including Gohan. It took only a moment for Krillin to realize his error.
"S-sorry, Chi'ch."
"With my camera! He meant flash him with my camera, haha! Y'see, Roshi wanted a nice picture of the two of us, Gohan. To…to commemorate the momentous day we all met," Bulma fumbled. Krillin nodded furiously, snapping his fingers in her direction, corroborating her white lie. Yamcha rolled his eyes.
"Uh-huh. Totally," he said under his breath.
"I was a crazy teenager, leave me alone," Bulma admitted through grit teeth, her cheeks flushed with red.
"What's a Dragon Ball?" Gohan spoke up again. The group was muted by the question. All eyes were on Chi-Chi.
"It's, uh…they're…they're nothing, Gohan. It's a. A snack. A snack your mom makes sometimes. Dragon balls. They're spicy," Goku trailed off, dejected. He felt terrible about lying to his son but knew telling him the truth wasn't worth the barrage he'd suffer at his wife's hands as a consequence.
The uncomfortable silence endured. It was as if all the good tidings were sucked from the room in an instant. Chi-Chi periscoped around, taking note of everyone's disappointed demeanor. Each time she met someone's gaze, they broke eye contact, preferring to stare down at their laps. The only one who didn't look utterly crestfallen was Gohan, who mimicked his mother's motion, though his actions were out of curiosity. He couldn't understand why everyone seemed to shut up so suddenly, why the fun came to an end. Why no one was answering his question.
Chi-Chi felt ashamed. She chewed her lower lip, her eyes growing glassy. She hated being such a buzzkill. She only wanted what was best for her son. For the first time, she was wondering if shielding him so thoroughly was really the best way to achieve that.
"Chi-Chi," Bulma began. She rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Remember what we talked about? It's okay. He'll be fine. He's surrounded by people who love him. Let us tell some stories."
Chi-Chi lowered her voice conspiratorially. She didn't know why. Gohan was staring directly at her and likely doing his best to catch every word coming out of her mouth.
"But if we talk about Dragon Balls, that'll lead to you guys talking about searching the globe for them. That'll lead to all the things Goku's done, and then…there's no telling where it could go."
"So? Is that really so bad? Gohan's never heard anything about his dad when he was his age. He barely knows him. That's not right, and you know it."
Chi-Chi's tears threatened to bubble over. She raised her head and stared at Goku, who stared back. He gave her a sad sort of half-smile.
She turned over a great many things in her mind, then. She gnashed the material of her dress between her fingernails, having the most intense internal debate she'd ever experienced.
She took one more look around the room. No one looked away this time, for they were all eagerly yet patiently awaiting her reply. Her line of sight came to rest on her son, still atop Turtle's back, leaning forward as if being closer would allow him to hear his mother's words before everyone else.
She let out a great, shaky breath.
"Okay. You win. Carry on," Chi-Chi said. A tear escaped the side of her face. She wiped it away quickly. She refused to admit to anyone, especially Goku or Bulma as scary as that was, there was something deeply fulfilling about relinquishing a bit of control. She felt like she'd been closing her fist tightly for over a year and finally released it.
She carefully eased herself backward and relaxed into the sofa cushions. Bulma grinned at her while nodding. She moved her grip from Chi-Chi's shoulder down to her right hand and grasped it tenderly.
Goku beamed.
"Sorry about that, bud. Needed the okay from your mom first."
Gohan whipped around on his shelled perch. Goku bent closer to him.
"The Dragon Balls aren't a snack. They're small orange orbs that have stars inside them," Goku told the boy as he gesticulated. "In fact, you've got one on your head right now."
Gohan's eyes went wide. He tugged off his hat and spun it around to get a better look.
"That's the four-star ball. Each Dragon Ball has a different number of stars in them. There're seven in all. And guess what?"
"What?" Gohan pleaded, hanging on his father's every word.
"They grant wishes," Goku spoke, barely above a whisper. Gohan trembled with glee.
"Really?"
"Yes, really. They're scattered all over the earth. Once you bring all seven together and say the magic words, the Eternal Dragon appears to grant you one wish, whatever you want in the whole world."
"Nuh-uh!" Gohan protested, sure his dad was pulling his leg.
"He's telling the truth, lil' buddy," Yamcha confirmed. He scooted closer to join the circle forming around the boy.
"It's actually how your dad and I met," Bulma interjected, picking up the tale. "When I was fourteen, I got it in my head it'd be a great idea to collect the Dragon Balls so I could wish for a boyfriend."
"Eww, why would you wanna do that?" replied Gohan as he stuck out his tongue.
"Because I was young and dumb."
"If there's one thing you've never been, it's dumb," Krillin interrupted. Bulma blushed. "In fact, your auntie Bulma's so smart, she invented a special radar. It detects where the Dragon Balls are."
"No way!"
"I know, right?" Krillin went on. "That's how she was tracking them down. One day, she ended up at the foot of Mt. Paozu, searching for the very same ball on your hat. That's how she and your dad found each other."
"The four-star ball's a family heirloom," Goku blurted. He paused to check with Chi-Chi to make sure he'd chosen the correct word. His wife smiled and nodded in approval. "Yeah, an heirloom! It used to belong to your great-grandpa. Then, when he died, he passed it on to me. Bulma wanted it, so I thought it might be fun to accompany her on her journey to find the rest. From then on, the Dragon Team was born!"
"For Kami's sake, we were never called the Dragon Team," Bulma argued.
"Better than the name you came up with. What was it again? The 'Z-Warriors'? What does that even mean?" Goku clapped back.
"It makes sense! We started as a trio—you, me, and Oolong. Three lettered coordinates. The one pointing up, the Z-axis, represents elevation. I climbed up a mountain to find the Dragon Ball. And while you were definitely the team's muscle, Oolong can turn into useful stuff, and I fancy myself as quite resourceful. Three members, three coordinates. Hence, Z-Warriors."
"Still doesn't make a lick of sense."
"Oh, shut it. Gohan gets it, don't ya, Munchkin?"
"Before long, they made it to me. I had a Dragon Ball," said Roshi. "I knew from the moment I met 'im there was something special 'bout yer dad, kiddo. He was the strongest boy I'd ever seen, could do things you can't even imagine!"
"Really?" Gohan asked again. This response was becoming a recurring one.
"He beat me up when I turned into a demon and started attacking a village," Oolong chimed in.
"You attacked a village?"
"It's a…long story," the pig trailed off.
"And a vast oversimplification," Bulma retorted.
"Your dad and I used to battle each other all the time," Krillin joined, clapping his godson on the shoulder. "We weren't always the best of pals. Way back when I left the monks who raised me, I came to Roshi for training. Your dad was already here, though. Learning from the master. I was so jealous, so pig-headed—"
"—Hey! I represent that remark!" Oolong oinked.
"Sorry, so stubborn, I saw your dad as nothing but competition. Boy, did we fight in those days."
"I'd say you pranked me more than fought me," Goku corrected him.
"Only because I knew I could never beat you."
"C'mon, we were way more evenly-matched back then."
"He fought me, too! When I was nothing but a thief living in the Diablo Desert. Your dad is by far the toughest fighter I've ever seen. I was lucky to come out in one piece!" Yamcha added. Gohan looked like his head was going to explode.
"It's because he's my star pupil!" Master Roshi bellowed as he ascended the table. He kicked over several containers of food, cans, and bottles in the process. He pumped his fist towards the heavens as he roared loud enough for all to hear.
"Goku! The true emblem of what the Turtle Hermit school is all about! He's braved perilous storms, fought off evil tyrants, saved the world from terrifying monsters more times than you can shake a stick at!"
The friends laughed together uproariously, save for Gohan. He couldn't do anything except look in awe at his father. His eyes remained huge, full of wonder and adoration. It was a side to his dad he'd never known, never been allowed to be privy to.
Gohan slid down off Turtle's shell and clung to Goku's pant leg, refusing to take his gaze off him.
"Looks like you've got a new superfan," Krillin mused.
Goku smiled and ruffled his son's hair. He looked over at Chi-Chi. She sat with her arms folded, taking it all in. She still had a smirk on her face, begrudgingly enjoying the trip down memory lane.
For hours more, the gang traded innumerable tales from their shared youth. They regaled the epic yarn of how Goku single-handedly prevented the Red Ribbon Army from enslaving the world. The story of how he lost to Master Roshi in disguise the first time he competed in the World Martial Arts Tournament. They even touched on Goku's big win at the tournament years later against the nefarious offspring of Lord Piccolo. But the days of yore were filled with far too many tales to tell the young child in a single evening. After a while, their full bellies and intoxication got the best of them.
Late in the night, Bulma and Yamcha spooned at one end of the living room's L-couch with Oolong and Puar coiled into a pile at their feet. Krillin laid at the other end, arms dangling off the edge. Roshi snored loudly, his legs on the floor, his upper body splayed across Turtle's shell. This would surely be murder on his spine the next morning. Meanwhile, Goku was on his back atop a pile of blankets on the carpet. Chi-Chi was wrapped around one of his arms and legs. His other side was presently occupied by Gohan, who hadn't left the spot since the glamorous retelling of his dad's younger days began.
Goku found himself unable to sleep. Instead, he gently stroked his son's hair, watching him while he rested. Chi-Chi stirred, then raised herself up halfway to check on their boy.
"Look at him. Hard to believe we were angels like that, once upon a time," she whispered.
"Yeah," Goku agreed.
As he and his friends shared in the act of astounding the child with fantastic saga after saga, Goku felt something strange and new. As his son adhered to him, refusing to let go, fatherly pride welled up in him unlike ever before. For once, he didn't feel inadequate, in over his head, or like a slow-witted buffoon playing at being a man. Having someone admire and idolize him so greatly felt indescribable. More so than ever, he wanted to protect, safeguard, and cultivate this treasure he was blessed with.
"Chi-Chi," Goku spoke. She had already laid back down but rotated her gaze to look up at him.
"Yes, Honey?"
Goku couldn't remember the last time she felt this warm, couldn't remember the last time she seemed this happy with him. He supposed it came from the mutual relief of neither of them needing to hide who they were around their child anymore.
"Thank you. For tonight. I know it wasn't easy."
Hearing this caused Chi-Chi to furrow her brow. She elevated herself on her elbow so she could properly see him. Their faces were mere inches from each other. She looked into his near-black eyes for a long time, trying to discern where the sudden burst of empathy, where the emotional insight came from. She took his free hand and placed it on her cheek.
"You're right, it wasn't. You deserved it. And our son should know how wonderful his father is."
"I love you," Goku said as he caressed Chi-Chi's face. He surprised himself with how much he meant it, the depth of the feeling. Chi-Chi kissed his thumb as she teared up again.
"I love you, too."
They laid there together, awake for several more minutes. They kissed for a while. The rowdy teenagers buried deep inside them considered doing more but didn't want to wake the others. They really didn't want to wake Gohan. Instead, they held each other as they drifted off to a blissful rest.
Before sleep overtook him, Goku decided he was going to put more effort into improving his and his wife's relationship going forward. He would listen more, be there more, try his best to be the sort of husband he knew she wanted. He would not let his handicap get the best of him. He also made a silent vow to be a better father to Gohan. To co-parent more. To contest Chi-Chi less. To uphold his commitment to protecting him from all that might do him harm, especially since he was now allowed to see his father for who he truly was.
It was a beautiful dream.
The sun rose the next morning, as expected. The sea was calmer than it should've been. More accurately, the ocean was not calm, rather still. The light spreading in every direction was harsh, exacting. Inky shadows stretched across the beach as the fire in the sky reached higher. The brisk winds typical of the area were nowhere to be found. And all the while, not a soul in Kame House stirred. Not until a pair of boots touched down onto the grass just beyond the front porch.
Goku bolted upright. His outburst jarred Chi-Chi and Gohan awake.
"Honey? What's wrong?" his wife pleaded, trying her best to see through the fog of her receding dreams. One by one, the other denizens of the house came to, all looking to their friend for answers. Slowly, the Turtle Hermit and the rest of his students began to sense something was amiss as well.
"Someone's here," Goku breathed as he turned his head towards the door, his body trembling with primordial fear.
To Be Continued…