(A/N: So for those of you that belong to my discord server, you already know about this story in and out…for the most part. But, I recall during its early stages that some of you said you might hold different opinions if the story was…fleshed out properly. So, with the damn bug of Dragon Ball biting me constantly—thanks Masako and your What Ifs—I have decided to put virtual pen to virtual paper and show off what I can do with this concept.
And for those of you that have absolutely no idea what the HFIL I'm talking about, strap in. This is going to be a bumpy ride)
Following the defeat of Perfect Cell, before even a year had passed, four old men sat in a pitch dark scrubbed clean conference room, reviewing footage from the Cell Games. Only the light from the screens showing footage were visible in the room. Side by side with said footage was old camera footage of the 21st, 22nd and 23rd World Martial Arts tournament.
"Son Goku's son, correct?" One of the men asked, referring to the beginning of Gohan's battle with Cell.
"Has to be," Another man said, the eldest of the four. He pulled up Goku's battle with Cell. "That's our man right there."
"Why on Earth did he bleach his hair?" one of the men asked.
"We could ask him ourselves, but he died during the chaos from what I hear."
Camera footage was pulled up of one Hercule Satan taking all the credit for the battle.
"And what of Mark Satan?" One of the men asked, referring to Hercule's actual name.
"It's too soon to reveal the truth. If Son Goku died during the battle, then all evidence points to…" The men watched the last precious seconds of footage of the Cell Games, where Gohan started screaming and a power surge of golden light warped through the area, killing the feed.
"So, what do we do?"
"We temper the boy. If he's anything like his father…" one of the man said and pulled up a student record on screen. The record was of a young boy in an orange gi with black hair.
The profile read "Son Goku: Ultimate Hero of Class 56-D."
"…History may be repeating itself."
"And what of our current situation?" One of the men asked.
Another student profile was pulled up. This one was of a young teen with blue hair. "Bulma Briefs: Ultimate Technician of Class 52-B."
"Call Kizakura. The situation is desperate."
"Right." One of the men said, nodding, and the room became dark.
EPISODE 1: Life Without Goku! Vegeta's Path!
Life on Earth was peaceful for all after the defeat of Cell. For Bulma Briefs in particular, she could go back to being a single mom and the heiress to the biggest tech company on Earth. Well…at least until the wedding.
Bulma presently had a welder's mask over her face and a blowtorch in the other hand, working on the first leg of a machine only she knew the purpose of. Trunks was in the room, grasping at air, in a self-rocking bassinet.
After a few more seconds of using the torch, Bulma took a moment to lift up the mask and wipe her brow with her arm. "Phew." She exhaled and then smiled. Things were coming along great.
That was when someone knocked on the wall behind her, given the automatic door was wide open. Bulma turned and saw a man dressed in all white with blonde hair, stubble and a white fedora hat.
"Oh, Koichi. It's been a while. What brings you by?"
Koichi took the flask by his hip, unscrewed the cap, took a sip and put it back before doffing his hat to Bulma. "Things are a bit…dicey with the school lately. The ol' bigwigs are in need of some real riches."
"I mean, I own most of the money in the open market, if you're here for a paycheck—"
"No, that's just gonna disappear faster than they'd like. It's not about a flat check, it's about getting more investors. You already do your part annually, Bulma. We can't ask for more," Koichi told her. Bulma already donated zeni to the school in 8 figures per year. "No, I'm here for the…ugh, what did they call it?" He checked a piece of paper he had folded up in his shirt pocket. "A dragon radar?"
"The dragon radar?!" Bulma exclaimed, shocked. "What the heck does Hope's Peak Academy want with the Dragon Balls?!"
Koichi shrugged. "Whatever it is, they're just trying to fund the school a bit better. Come on, Bulma. Be a true blue alumnus. I'm the one making the wish. That should make you feel a little better, right?"
"You at least want to tell me what the wish is going to be?" Bulma asked.
Koichi shook his head. "Got an envelope in my jacket, but I'm not allowed to look at it until I summon the dragon apparently."
"Oh I'm sorry, but I don't want to have another King Piccolo, or Emperor Pilaf or Garlic Jr. on our hands."
"Bulma, be reasonable. This is the place you went to school," Koichi told her. "Just a bunch of old geezers trying to give kids a better education. Come on, you really think I'd do the dirty work if it was something nefarious?"
"I don't know," Bulma said, arms folded. "You don't know what's in the letter."
"Touché," Koichi answered, smirking. "Tell you what, as one alumnus to another, I'll make you a deal. If I don't like what's written on the ol' missive," he said, tapping the paper inside his jacket, "I'll wish for like the world's tastiest lollipop or something. Does that make you feel better?"
Bulma stared at him a moment. Bulma sighed. Koichi Kizakura was hardly the type of man to lie to someone, especially a woman he himself had scouted for the school. "Fiiiine," she relented. "I'll go get it. I'm coming with you though."
"Wait, what?"
Bulma winked and stuck her tongue out. "Just kidding. I've got a project to finish and a wedding to plan. Just make sure you summon Shenron somewhere that's not in the middle of the city."
"Shenron? The thing's got a name. Huh. Didn't know that."
"Of course he has a name."
"…How many times have you seen this dragon exactly?" Koichi asked, sweating a little.
"Let's see…" Bulma said, counting on her fingers. "Personally? At least four times."
"Four? Jeez. For a mythological fairy tale, this radar is pretty good if it can track the little things down four times in one lifetime."
"Ah, that reminds me. You're probably going to have to wait a few more months to summon Shenron."
"Why's that?"
"Well, the Dragon Balls only work once a year and we already used them within a year to fix all the damage Cell caused."
"Ah," Koichi said knowingly.
"Yeah, report that to the Steering Committee," Bulma told him.
"I'm sure they'll understand. We are talking about a magical, wish granting dragon here."
"Though, this is a surprise. I invented the radar 18 years ago and they never asked for it once. Even showed it off for my practical."
"I believe the phrase you're looking for is: beggars can't be choosers. We're talking about stubborn old men here. They wouldn't be relying on magical, wish granting powers if they thought they could get by on fairer, more obvious methods."
"Oh yeah, look how well that worked out for the Red Ribbon Army," Bulma quipped.
"Bulma, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you resented the academy and what it stood for," Koichi said. "Why all the animosity?"
"It's not that I don't trust the academy, it's just I'm a little skeptical of handing the dragon radar over to anyone, especially when they won't tell me what it is they're going to wish for. I don't even trust my fiancé with this thing. And I know what you're going to say, oh but you used it four times. That was to resurrect people killed by tyrants and mad men hellbent on destruction. You really think someone like me or my friends would just let those people stay dead? Think about how many people died from Cell in Cherry Town alone?"
"All right, all right, I get it. I didn't mean to unleash Hurricane Bulma. Yeesh," Koichi said, smiling nervously and putting up his hands defensively.
Bulma got right in his face and pointed her index finger at the bridge of his nose, glaring. "Besides, I'll have you know that aside from me and my friends, the only wishes intended to be used on the dragon balls were for world domination, eternal youth, or immortality to extended one or both former wishes. And besides, you get all of them, that's fantastic. You know how many people are after them? I would've been dead half a dozen times or more the first time I ventured out for them if Goku wasn't with me!"
"Bulma…you made your point. Trust me, we've thought about it. We've got it under control. Nothing bad's gonna happen. Promise."
Bulma sighed deeply. "If it does, you're the one bearing the responsibility."
"I already said, I'd wish for something dumb if I don't like their wish. Come on, everything's gonna be juuuust fine."
Bulma stomped away and came back with the radar, placing it in his hands. "Just let me know you made it back safely, all right?" she asked, looking more concerned than angry. "The last thing I want to find out is that my old school sent my old teacher to his death."
"I'll be fine, Bulma. I kept an eye on you and Goku for three years, didn't I?"
Bulma sighed with a growl. "Just be careful, all right?"
Koichi took another sip from his flask. "I'll be careful." And with that, he left.
Months passed, Bulma and Vegeta got married, life went on and the Dragon Balls stopped being inert. At that moment, Hope's Peak Academy worked together to gather them up and Koichi Kizakura could finally make the wish the higher ups requested.
"Okay," he said, tearing open the envelope. "Let's see here." Listed were many instructions by the Steering Committee for Koichi to follow. "All right then." He held his hands to the sky. "Noble Shenron! Come forth and grant me my wish!"
The clouds darkened, thunder boomed, lightning struck as a gigantic, serpentine, green dragon with red eyes appeared in the sky above on some deserted island with lakes and minimal wildlife.
"I am the Eternal Dragon, speak your wish and I shall grant it." Shenron's voice was loud and powerful, booming through the air as it gazed down at Koichi.
"Whew," Koichi whistled. "You're a big guy. All right then. Let's see here. Ah. All right." He cleared his throat. "Noble Shenron, oh great and powerful," he said, trying to be flattering. "I have a question before I make my wish."
"Speak," Shenron requested.
"You're a pretty smart guy, that's fair to say, right?"
"I know many things," Shenron answered.
"Then surely you must know between Son Gohan and his father, Son Goku, who has the potential to grow stronger overall. Not who's more powerful right now, but who could grow stronger in the long run."
Shenron was quiet for the briefest of moments before speaking. "The one called Son Goku has far greater potential, but the one called Son Gohan is currently the stronger of the two."
"Perfect. All right then, here's my wish. Noble Shenron! Please make it so that all of the students, past, present, and even those enrolled but not yet attending Hope's Peak Academy have the potential to become as powerful as Son Goku if they apply themselves hard enough!"
Shenron was quiet for a moment. Koichi was worried that the wish might not work, but Shenron quickly laid those fears to rest. His eyes glowed fiercely. "Your wish has been granted. State your second wish."
"Second wish? I get two?"
"Indeed. The previous wish did not exhaust my power, so a second wish can be granted this time."
"Well, wish someone had told me that sooner. Well, at least this means we don't have to gather the balls next year." Koichi looked back at the paper. A second and last wish was printed. He nodded. "Noble Shenron, my second wish. Please make it so that those affected by my previous wish can grow stronger much faster than normal. Make it so that even the most basic of constant physical exercise can result in great gains for those affected by the previous wish and adjust the growth curve accordingly as training becomes more intense."
Shenron was quiet again. Koichi was nervous. Had he gone too far?
But, once again, after a few moments had passed, Shenron once again spoke, "Your wish has been granted!" With that, Shenron disappeared and the balls dispersed across the horizon, not to be used again for another year.
"Welp, hopefully that worked as intended. Can't wait to see how this goes."
Half a year passed since Koichi's wish on the Dragon Balls. At first, nothing seemed inherently wrong with the wish made on the behalf of Hope's Peak Academy's Steering Committee. However…
"Oh dang it! You've gotta be kidding me!"
Bulma had only intended to open the fridge and get out an energy drink…and instead took of the entire fridge door.
"VEGETA!" She shouted for her new husband.
"Ugh, what is it woman?" The newlywed husband groaned, walking into the room.
"This!" Bulma shouted, waving the door around like it was a damned paperweight. "I just ripped the damn thing off!"
Vegeta laughed his royal Saiyan ass off. "Looks to me like someone needs to get the receipt."
"Oh Ha Ha!" Bulma stated sarcastically. "Just do me a favor and tell me what's going on!"
"I don't have the slightest clue why you—" It was then Vegeta noticed something. Bulma's energy…it wasn't where it should be. Even without the need for a scouter anymore, Vegeta could still properly identify low level power levels. Up until recently, Bulma's had been 2, 4 on a good ay. Now… Why am I sensing her being half as strong as Radditz? That's…how did she get as strong as a low class Saiyan warrior? "Bulma!" Vegeta barked. "What kind of training have you been doing?"
"None! Just regular physical exercise to stay in shape. Yoga, cardio, the usual for a mother of one in her thirties." She grabbed Vegeta by the shoulders. "What do I do?!"
"The first thing you do is you let go of me and calm down," Vegeta stated, glaring. Bulma did so. "Second thing you do is follow me to the training room. We need to get that power of yours in check. One wrong move and you could destroy this entire city."
"WHAT?!" Bulma shouted.
"You heard me. Now let's go. I don't have all day to play babysitter."
"You…" Bulma grinded her teeth, but relented. Right now it was just a fridge door. In 15 minutes, what if it was her car, or something else. She quietly followed Vegeta to the training room.
Training with Vegeta was like being in boot camp as far as Bulma was concerned. He was unapologetic, constantly yelling—either orders or in general—and showed little to no compassion for Bulma's aches and pains, no matter how much she used the "I had a baby a little over a year ago" excuse.
Of course, it only took a week to get Bulma's power under control. And, by that point, she had clear left Radditz in the dust.
"2,700," Bulma said, standing on a scale meant to measure power levels instead of weight.
Something's wrong. Even with all this training, she couldn't make gains this quickly. Kakarot took a year to become stronger than Nappa when he was less than half of Bulma's power. What the hell is going on?
Even with those thoughts, Vegeta wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Due to this phenomenon, he and Bulma had spent more time together in one week than they had since Trunks was first conceived.
"You'll be keeping this up regularly, woman," Vegeta stated, wiping the sweat off his gloves.
"Excuse me?!"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Last I checked, staying in shape was your goal. If you don't apply yourself, at least a little, you won't be able to maintain proper control. Just look at what's happening to Kakarot's brat." Vegeta was referring to the fact that Gohan had been neglecting training since Cell died. And, as a result, he was getting weaker by the day. "It's a miracle he doesn't end up causing an accident whenever his mother sends him shopping."
"Okay first of all, don't compare me to Gohan. Second of all, I have no intention of using this power at all," Bulma pointed out. "Fighting is your thing, not mine. I have projects to finish! Deadlines to meet!"
Vegeta raised his eyebrows. "You do realize the stronger you get, the faster you get and the faster your brain can process information. As a result, you'd be able to finish more projects."
Bulma was silent for a moment before she simply replied. "Like I said, how many more hours are we putting in today?"
Another half a year passed. And, in that time, Bulma was actually starting to enjoy sparring with her husband. It was a good stress reliever—apart from nature's obvious stress reliever—especially since Vegeta had to bring himself down to Bulma's level so he could get stronger. As a result, Bulma could deck him in the face and make it hurt for all the stress he caused her in between sessions.
The sessions were further apart than they were the first week. The couple respected each other's need for their own alone time. Bulma had her projects and Vegeta had…brooding outside apparently.
Apart from training Bulma, Vegeta didn't really have any current aspirations. He didn't hold down a job—not that he needed one—and since Gohan had hung up his gi and Goku was dead, he had no one to surpass. Quite literally, he was the strongest there was in the universe alive, he felt.
However, as he stood outside, looking up at the blue sky, wondering what kinds of nonsense the idiot was getting himself up to in the other world, he sensed something peculiar.
Hold on…that can't be right. For a moment, Vegeta thought he sensed five power levels each equal to or more powerful than himself when he first arrived on Earth all those years ago. He pricked up his senses and focused. Nope. He wasn't wrong. They were there. Focused. Concentrated in one spot. Impossible. These earthlings couldn't possibly get this strong that fast. Shortly after Cell was defeated, those of us that showed up to fight him were the strongest and that came from decades of training per person.
It was then dawning on Vegeta that Bulma's own growth was also unnatural. "This is ridiculous!"
"Ugh, what are you whining about now?" Bulma asked, Trunks in her arms.
"Shut up and open your mind woman and sense that!" he said, pointing to where he'd sensed the power levels.
Bulma rolled her eyes. While sensing energy came naturally to Vegeta, for Bulma, it was more of a toggle even with a now power level of about 12,000.
She recoiled when she sensed what Vegeta was trying to show her. "Wait, what the hell?"
"Hmm?" Vegeta raised his eyebrow. Bulma's reaction suggested she knew what was going on. "Explain, woman."
"If…if I'm sensing this right, then that area we're sensing all that energy from is Hope's Peak Academy."
"Go on," Vegeta stated.
Bulma was going to try to explain, but the second she opened her mouth, it suddenly dawned on her what was going on. "Koichi! You son of a—" Bulma practically thrust Trunks into Vegeta's arms.
"What the…hey! What are you—"
Bulma took off like a rocket under her own power. Teaching her to fly was not difficult within the six month period.
Where are you? Bulma thought, scanning the area for Koichi, not caring who saw her flying around like this. She'd blame it on nano-technology if she had to.
She found the Fedora-wearing blonde just chilling at an Italian restaurant, about to dig into his first bite of spaghetti and meatballs.
"Koichi Kizakura!" She shouted and came to an abrupt landing by his table. "You have some explaining to do, mister!"
"Bulma!" Koichi said, trying to act as casual as ever. "How ya been? Rare for you to come find me." He then reviewed the last few seconds in his head. "…Did you fly here?"
"Oh yes, quite literally actually, which I'm more than willing to guess you had a part in!" She snapped.
"I mean…noooo?" Koichi responded, not quite sure. The wish should've only increased people's powers and abilities, not allowed humans to fly.
Bulma was not taking his non-committal answer. He might've been able to slink out from under her the first time, but this time she meant business. "Ok wise guy, how's about you tell me then what you wished for on the Dragon Balls, because I really can't see any other reason why such high power levels are popping up all over the place! And they all just so happen to be from our school!"
Koichi sighed. "So glad I saved this," he said and handed Bulma the letter he had used to wish on Shenron. Bulma snatched it out of his hand and scanned it over.
Bulma let out a deep sigh. "You know, if it wasn't for the fact that I know Hope's Peak had good intentions with this wish, I'd be considerably more worried. That said, what the hell were you all thinking?"
"We were thinking we wanted to take the next step in showing off the talents of Ultimates. Well, okay, they were thinking it. I just made the wish," Koichi said with a smile. "Besides, I didn't see anything wrong with it myself. Like I said, I'd never wish for something nefarious. Maybe I can buy you some lunch as long as you're here? This place makes great pasta."
Bulma sighed and sat down. "Fine," she grumbled.
"Waiter!" Koichi called.
Within another half a year, Bulma had gotten even stronger under Vegeta's tutelage. However, the gains were tapering off due to Bulma both not wanting to get too strong and the fact that she didn't have the personal drive to push herself. She wasn't a fighter, pure and simple. Worse, if she and Vegeta kept upping the ante, she worried she might get stronger than him and then she'd really have to explain herself.
Telling Vegeta the true nature of the wish would've bruised his ego considerably. She could hear the incoming complaint already. "WHAT?! Your school's gone braindead! No way am I letting this planet give rise to a thousand Kakarots! What about me? Why don't I get any respect? Answer me, woman!"
Instead, she just told Vegeta that the wish had been made to unlock the true potential of all of the students that had student records at the school, both past, present and those enrolled but not yet attending.
"And considering what Krillin, Tien and Yamcha can do, clearly that's a pretty high bar to set," she told him. "They also amped up the learning curve for getting stronger. Go figure."
"Okay, but why?" Vegeta had wanted to know.
"Some old men worried about their profits running out so it's basically a stunt show to make sure the students of the school are the strongest on the planet. I'm pretty sure no one will get as strong as you though."
"They better not," Vegeta had said at the time.
That had been the previous calendar year. Now it was spring time again.
As had been the case since he found out about it, Vegeta had taken to feeling out the energy levels of the students at Hope's Peak Academy every so often. In the previous year, not a single student had gotten stronger than Recoome. However…today…
Vegeta could suddenly sense two power levels that made Captain Ginyu look like a joke.
His response was predictable to all that knew him. "BULMA!"
"What is it now?" Bulma asked. "I just got Trunks to take a nap and the tutor will be here soon."
Vegeta pointed in the general direction of Hope's Peak Academy.
Bulma rolled her eyes. "Just say what happened?"
"Two power levels stronger than Captain Ginyu when we were on Namek. I don't think I need to remind you how strong that is."
Bulma's power level was currently only 56,000. "How strong he is? All I remember is that's the jackass that stuck me in the body of a frog for a while."
"Look, are we going to stand here talking about it or are we going to do something about it?" Vegeta inquired.
"Do something about it. Like what?" Bulma snapped. "What are you going to do? Waltz over to the academy, fire a Galick Gun and destroy the whole thing?"
"The thought had crossed my mind, yes," Vegeta responded, glaring at the horizon.
"Out of the question!" Bulma shouted.
"All right then, what do you suggest we do?"
"How about instead of getting mad about it, why not go down there and teach them like you're teaching me?"
"…Excuse me?" Vegeta was hardly warmed up to the idea.
"Look, you need a hobby. I'm thankful for the gains you've helped me make, but this fighting stuff really isn't for me. I'll keep up with the training, but you need to spend our non-training moments doing something other than glaring at the sky and wishing Goku would come back."
Vegeta stammered for a moment, only to growl in irritation at how well Bulma had gotten to know how to push his buttons in the last year and a half.
"Look, I'll go with you if you want. I graduated from that school. Who knows? You might like it."
"Yeah, sure, teach teenagers Saiyan martial arts. Sounds fun," Vegeta said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"This coming from a man whose race sent babies to destroy planets," Bulma stated.
"Don't talk as if you've fully come to understand Saiyans, woman," Vegeta said, jamming his index finger towards her.
Bulma huffed and put her hands on her hips.
"But fine, if it'll make you happy, I suppose I could try and see what this generation of humans can do. Could at least be worth some mild amusement before I inevitably get bored after a few minutes."
Bulma rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Just follow me."
Bulma and Vegeta flew across the air together, Vegeta following his wife to Hope's Peak Academy.
"Just do me a favor and don't break anything inside the school. The equipment is state of the art so replacements are coming out of my paycheck and, from now on, your lunch."
Vegeta grunted and glared at the horizon ahead. She just had to hit him where it hurt.
Upon hovering over the school, the couple found two young men sparring with each other. One of them had white hair and was wielding a practice sword, sleeves rolled up and shuffling defensively against his opponent. He had a power level of 185,000.
This was Kyosuke Munakata: Ultimate Student Council President. Unlike other holders of the title, this was Kyosuke's only title as he had been either a class representative or the president his entire run in public schooling up until now. He was a natural born leader.
His adversary was a much larger man with muscles that could crush a baby panda. He had dark hair, a tanned complexion and was bashing his fists against Kyosuke's shinai.
This was Juzo Sakakura: The Ultimate Boxer. He was accompanied with a power level of 180,000.
Nearby, a redheaded woman in an apron was humming a tune and watering the flowers of the quad. She had a power level of 5.
…That doesn't seem right, Vegeta thought. Pretty much everyone at the school up until this point had a power level of at least 30. How could she have figured out how to suppress her power on her own? He shook his head. I'll worry about that later.
Vegeta and Bulma landed as Bulma marched up to the trio. "Oh, you must be new students."
Kyosuke made a time-out symbol to Juzo. "Yes, can we help you…also did you just fly here?"
"My name's Bulma. I used to go to this school. I was the Ultimate Technician of Class 52. This is my husband," she said, gesturing to the Saiyan Prince. "Vegeta."
"Hmph," Vegeta said, sneering and turning his head away.
"I'm Kyosuke Munakata," the white haired man said, bowing politely. "I'm the Ultimate Student Council President." He gestured to Juzo. "This here is my best friend, Juzo Sakakura. He's the Ultimate Boxer."
Juzo bowed at the mention of being referenced.
"Nobody asked," Vegeta said rudely.
"Can you give us a moment?" Bulma asked with a strained smile and dragged Vegeta out of earshot. "What are you doing?"
"I decided to come over and play your game. I never said I was going to be nice."
"Look, they're just kids, barely older than Gohan. At least act like you give a damn. I mean, after all, they're getting a special lesson from the Prince of all Saiyans. Shouldn't they be grateful?" Bulma asked in a manner that indicated she was trying to butter up Vegeta's ego.
Vegeta smirked. "Well when you put it that way." He walked over towards the two men, adjusting his white glove. "All right, men. Show me what you can do. I came all this way to see what the fighters of tomorrow are capable of. Do not disappoint me."
Kyosuke and Juzo looked at each other. Vegeta was the spouse of one of their alumni. It would be rude not to indulge him a little. Plus it would be good training.
Kyosuke struck first, charging at Vegeta with weapon in hand, only for Vegeta to crush it in his palm, jab him twice in the face, knee him in the stomach and crack his arm behind his back before throwing the boy aside.
At this, the redhead with the power level of 5 stopped watering the flowers and watched.
Juzo followed suit and went to deliver a hefty blow to Vegeta, but his fist was caught as Vegeta squeezed to make the big guy wince.
With a smirk, Vegeta charged a very small energy blast with his free hand and blasted Juzo back, causing him to be launched back across the grass where he landed, feeling battered, like he'd been plowed into by a semi.
Vegeta spit on the ground. "Really? This is what I come all this way f—"
A knife went whizzing by his head at such speed that he didn't dodge it complete in time. More importantly, it managed to actually cut his cheek. A nearby power level was rising and it was rising fast.
10. No, 150. No, 2,000? 25,000. And it was still growing rapidly.
Vegeta looked around for the source of the power level, but found nothing…which was also part of the problem. The redhead that had been watering the flowers had vanished.
What the…where'd she…
"Vegeta!" Bulma shouted in alarming concern.
Vegeta was so off-guard he wasn't prepared when someone clenched their hand around his throat and slammed him at the ground, causing him to cough.
The redhead now knelt over him, a knife in his face. Her glare was like the empty shadows of the void itself.
"Care to explain yourself?" she asked in a contralto tone of voice.
Vegeta stared in shock. He could not believe what he was feeling.
This power…that's impossible. Vegeta didn't need a scouter to know what he was feeling from this woman. Her power exceeded that of Freeza. Sure, only in his first form and didn't come close to his second, but still…she had been just a normal teenage girl a second ago and she more than amply dwarfed her classmates now.
For a brief moment, Vegeta thought he was looking at Goku's son. Anger had brought this woman from a nobody to a nightmare…and it was both concerning and intriguing.
"Wait! Wait! Wait!" Bulma ran up to the girl. "This is all a huge misunderstanding! I brought him here."
"Stay out of this, Bulma. This is finally getting interesting," Vegeta protested.
The readheaded woman stood up and stared at Bulma. Dark energy seemed to flow all around her.
"Hi, I guess you didn't hear. My name's Bulma. Bulma Briefs. I'm from Capsule Corp. I'm an alumni here. I brought my husband with me to maybe be a personal trainer to some of the stronger students here."
Vegeta's eyes widened at what happened next. From a power level of 560,000, it started going down rapidly.
300,000
200,000
40,000
90
And then back to its original 5.
The redhead smiled. "Why didn't you say so? My name's Chisa Yukizome. I'm the Ultimate Housekeeper. I'd be happy to cook for a fair alumnus and her husband of this school. It's nice to meet both of you."
What the hell is this woman? Vegeta thought. Vegeta quickly got up off the ground and snapped at Bulma. "Okay, I think it's high time you explained to me what this school actually is, Bulma."
Bulma was silent for a moment. Not because she didn't want to answer, but because it took her a few seconds to realize she had never, at any point, explained to Vegeta what Hope's Peak Academy actually was.
Before she could say anything though, Chisa spoke up. "Hope's Peak Academy is a learning institution and it's the pinnacle of human achievement for high schoolers. Graduate from here and you're set for life. Doors will open. You can get your dream job. The staff will basically bend over backwards to tend to your every need if you can prove yourself. More importantly, applications are not accepted. You're either scouted by Hope's Peak Academy for having talent beyond talent or you're not welcome on this side of the gate as a student."
Vegeta smirked. "So you're telling me, this is an institution that opens its doors only for the elite of the elite?" His smirked widened as he folded his arms. "Sounds like my kind of school."
Oh no, Bulma thought, wincing. The Prince of All Egos had now reached a new level of smugness.
"So, how does an Ultimate Housekeeper reach such a level of power?" Vegeta figured the students didn't know about the wish. They were probably just working their hardest. So, what was Chisa's routine? He expected some kind of paltry exercise or a special juice.
What he got was a sweet smile followed by a simple answer. "Oh that's easy," Chisa replied. "Stain removal." The way she said that clearly implied she wasn't talking about soda stains on the carpet.
This one…if she were a little more aggressive, she'd have made a perfect Saiyan warrior. His smirk turned into a wicked grin. I could get used to training someone like her. "Where is the person in charge of this institution?"
"You're looking for Headmaster Kirigiri," Chisa said.
"Good, then tell him I'm now in charge. I'm going to take you lot and turn you all into warriors more than proud to be calling themselves Ultimates."
"I'm pretty sure that's not how that works," Bulma stated.
"And I'm pretty sure this was your idea," Vegeta remarked.
"Yeah, as a trainer, not as a dictator. We're not here to restore your glorified delusions of being part of a monarchy again."
"What did you just say?!" Vegeta snapped.
Chisa looked at the two argue, thinking, I sure hope my married life isn't this bitter.
In the end, Vegeta relented to simply being a part-time instructor. It was for students who wanted it at an at will basis. In return, Vegeta got access to all of Hope's Peak's training equipment, including an even sturdier, more powerful gravity training chamber. Bulma was proud to see Vegeta finally having an actual job.
Vegeta, though he would never admit it, was enjoying himself too. By Hope's Peak's own words he had pretty much been given the clearance to do whatever he saw fit if it would make the students into gods amongst men. That meant he could be as vicious or as unforgiving as he wanted to those brave enough to take his training.
"Oh? You don't like it? THEN QUIT!" was often his response to criticism.
The time he spent at the school often reminded him of the year he spent with Trunks' future self in the hyperbolic time chamber. Again, he would never admit it, nor admit he was looking back on such things with fondness.
However, no matter how many students he trained, no matter how many teenagers he slammed into the walls or dirt, one thing about this whole situation still bugged him. It was 5 foot 3 with red hair and constantly wore an apron.
"Hey, woman! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Chisa looked at Vegeta with big, blinking eyes of astonishment. She had one hand on a spray bottle and the other hand on a soft cloth covered in chemicals, which was pressed against the wall. Both stood in the first floor hallway by the AV room.
"You missed training again today. How do you intend to get stronger if you don't train seriously?" Vegeta asked.
"Isn't your class like, an at will thing?" Chisa asked him.
"Don't play semantics with me! You were the strongest person in this school when I first got here and now I'm not so sure. I haven't seen you in a single class! By this point, your boyfriend probably surpassed you weeks ago."
Chisa turned to face Vegeta and folded her cloth up and put it in her apron. "You don't think I'm strong?"
"What I think is that you're wasting your potential! You're the second most powerful woman on the planet from what I can tell and yet you waste your days cleaning the building!"
"Cleaning gives me energy," Chisa said with a smile. "Besides, I actually don't want to get stronger."
The last five words echoed in Vegeta's head like a nightmare. What the hell just came pouring out of that girl's mouth? Vegeta stood there and stammered. His Saiyan pride and heritage could not comprehend such blasphemy.
Chisa smiled, a fist against her well-endowed chest. "I just want to be amazing at my talent. I want to be the best Chisa Yukizome I can be. I'm a housekeeper and proud of it. I don't want to hurt people. My power is both a gift and a curse. One day I'll have to raise a huge family, plan birthdays, help with field trips, run bake sales, cook meals." She still smiled, looking at Vegeta. "Training to be the best, just doesn't fit in with that vision."
"But…but…but you're so strong!" Vegeta stuttered.
"Consequences of just doing what I have to. It takes a lot of stamina to be the perfect housekeeper. There's more to life than violence." Her smile brightened. "I want to make sure that, one day, I'm the perfect mom. In all your strength and power, can you call yourself the perfect dad?"
Vegeta looked shaken for a moment, only to glare and sweat. "Fine! Whatever! Waste your potential for all I care! I don't care! I'm going to go train and then have a huge meal when I get back home!" He then walked away grumbling. He didn't get very far before a knife went whizzing by his head and was caught by Chisa who seemed to teleport in front of him as she gently put it away.
"The fact that I can do that while your guard is down, to me, is enough. Now if you'll excuse me, I have tiles and trophies to polish." She then pivoted away, humming and went back to cleaning the wall.
Vegeta glared at her, clenching his fist. How could someone with such talent be so…domestic? It was infuriating. Chisa could easily be his star student, but she squandered her potential for some fanciful dream of living quietly. And how dare she question his ability to be a parent.
Bulma could tell Vegeta was far from happy when he came home. Trunks, now old enough to sit at the dinner table like a big boy, could also tell his father was in a foul mood.
"Okay, do you want to talk about what's wrong or do we have to play twenty questions?" Bulma asked in annoyance. "What happened at work?"
"Nothing happened. I'm fine," Vegeta grumbled, chewing meat right off the bone.
"Oh really? Normally you'd be asking for fourths by now, but you haven't even finished your seconds. You keep staring at the direction of the school like you're trying to glare it to death," Bulma stated.
"I don't understand it, Bulma. Chisa has more potential, more capability, than any of the other students, and yet she wastes it by cleaning all the time and playing house with little fanciful dreams of having a huge family and a big mansion. It's stupid! She could be a fine warrior yet all she wants to do is be a mom."
Bulma slammed the table, standing. "So you think being a parent is that pointless, huh?! You have no idea how hard I work at all, do you? If you ever spent more than an hour out of the gravity chamber and took an interest in my work, maybe you'd start to realize that there's more to life than fighting! You, Goku and Gohan might all be Saiyans, but Gohan's the only one with any common sense around here apparently! Because not only is he going to end up being a model member of society, he's also going to end up getting a perfect life with a high paying job, a wife who loves him and kids who call him dad that he takes to soccer practice without fail! Have you ever once paid attention to Trunks other than acknowledge the fact that he exists? Because last I checked, you don't even know who the old woman is I have come to the house every Tuesday and Thursday, do you? I could be teaching him how to play the bagpipes all day and you wouldn't even care! No, you'll just wait until he's old enough so he can train with you so that you can hope one day he goes Super Saiyan so you can lord it over your rivalry with Goku that you also have a Super Saiyan son, who, may I remind you IS DEAD! So maybe pull your royal head out of your goddamn ass and take a look around at who's ALIVE! Because right now, everything you do, whether it's with me, the students, or whatever you plan to do with Trunks is all so you can one day have a rematch WITH A CORPSE!"
Bulma panted then, shoulders rising and falling, spooking everyone, from the cooks, to her parents, to Trunks and, yes, even Vegeta.
Vegeta, for the first time in his life, was struck speechless by Bulma. She'd yelled at him before sure, but never like this. What could he say right now? I'm sorry? He wouldn't mean it. Worse? Most of what she said, he couldn't deny or even begin to rebut.
Vegeta got to his feet and slowly backed away from the table. "I think I need to be alone for a little while."
"I think you'd better. And if I find out you went back to the school, I'm calling Chichi to tell Gohan."
"Don't bother, I'm not going anywhere near that place," Vegeta then jumped off the balcony and headed off to only he knew where.
During his angry flight, he was intercepted by someone else who flew alongside him.
"What do you want, Namekian?" Vegeta asked Piccolo.
"I sensed you flying towards the lookout and I know that's not going to be for a social visit. Bulma kick you out or something?"
"No," Vegeta responded curtly. "Maybe. …I-I don't know."
Piccolo was silent for a moment before speaking up. "You haven't acted like this since Trunks died to Cell. What happened?"
"It's none of your business," Vegeta stated.
"Does it have something to do with all of those new powers I've been sensing lately?" Piccolo asked.
"I said it's none of your goddamn business!" Vegeta shouted.
"So that's a yes then," Piccolo responded.
Vegeta stopped short. Piccolo did the same. The two floated over a plains in the middle of nature, far from any cities. "What's it to you if it is? Do you even care? What could you possibly understand about what I'm going through, huh?"
"What I understand is that Gohan told me to keep an eye on you if you ever became a threat," Piccolo stated. "So start talking."
"You wouldn't understand." Vegeta then stared at the ground miles below. "You don't have a family."
Piccolo smirked. "If you're that worried about it, I'm sure it'll work itself out. Maybe fly around the Earth a bit, let the blood rush out of your head. You'll find the answer." With that, Piccolo flew back towards the lookout.
Vegeta sneered in irritation. How dare the Namekian presume to understand what he was going through. Unfortunately, Vegeta still didn't have any better ideas. So, after flying around aimlessly for hours, he returned to the Briefs family residence and came in through the bedroom window. Bulma appeared to already be asleep. Vegeta stared at her. He then tossed off a few of his clothes and lifted the covers to get into bed, staring out the window.
He was unprepared when Bulma wiggled up next to him and kissed him on the cheek. "I knew you'd come back," she whispered. She then snuggled his arm and only now fell asleep, leaving Vegeta stunned.
Vegeta reached up and held one of Bulma's hands. He then stared out the window. Okay, maybe he still didn't understand what drove Chisa to be what she was and maybe he still didn't understand why Bulma suddenly wasn't angry with him anymore. However, he understood one thing. Dammit, the Namekian had been right. The problem just sorted itself out.
Even in the morning, when Vegeta tried to talk to Bulma about last night, she was much calmer than the night before.
"Listen, I know who I married. I know you're not exactly going to ever be father of the year or take an interest in my work. You're not a typical man. You're ill-tempered, strong-headed, and have a chip on your shoulder big enough to be in the Guinness Book of World Records. But I know deep down you still care about this family and want to make it work. I thought about it after you left and I figured, as long as we keep trying, maybe one day we'll understand each other. I told myself that, as long as you came back home last night, I knew that you actually cared."
Vegeta again, was speechless. That said, he did smile. And then, right after that, he found his own words. "And I know who I married. A strong willed woman that doesn't let anyone push her around, including me. You don't have to be as strong as Freeza to be a strong woman."
And right at that moment it clicked. Vegeta finally got what Chisa was on about. Bulma could see the epiphany forming in Vegeta's eyes and handed him two capsules. "Got your lunch and your armor right here. Go get 'em," she said and then affectionately slapped Vegeta's shoulder and then kissed him on the cheek before heading for the lab.
Vegeta eagerly flew to Hope's Peak Academy, smirking the entire time, excited to get his classes done for the day. And, much to his surprise, someone was waiting for him along with his usual crowd of wannabes.
"Well, well, well, look who decided to show. You look good in a gi," Vegeta said, smirking at a certain redhead.
Chisa stretched her arm across her body. "Don't get used to it, but even I need to train once in a while. Can't afford to go completely soft."
"Well all right then," Vegeta said and powered up, blowing back most of the students and knocking several of them over. "Training begins now!"
A new dawn has begun on the life of Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans. With a bold wish made by the Steering Committee of Hope's Peak Academy, the Saiyan has settled into a new role at an elite school teaching a new generation. Will this newfound role in life be the key to helping him one day surpass his old rival? Tune in next time to Dragon Ball: HPA!
