The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across West City as Toji, Piccolo, and their Saiyan prisoners hovered high above the urban sprawl.
From this altitude, the city resembled a circuit board, with its grid of streets and twinkling lights just beginning to illuminate as dusk approached.
Toji gestured toward a nondescript apartment building nestled between taller structures in one of the city's less affluent districts.
"That's my place," he announced, pointing to a window on the fifth floor. "I need to grab some things. Might take a while, so..."
He turned to face his companions, his expression suddenly serious. "Play nice while I'm gone. I'll know if you don't."
Piccolo crossed his arms, his cape billowing dramatically in the high-altitude breeze. "How long?"
"An hour, tops," Toji replied with a casual shrug. "Got some personal business to take care of."
Vegeta scoffed from within his energy bubble. "What could possibly be so important that-"
"Not your concern, princeling," Toji cut him off, flashing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just remember - I can sense your energy fluctuations from anywhere on this planet. Try anything stupid, and I'll be back before you can say 'Die.'"
Without waiting for a response, Toji descended toward his apartment window, which still hung open from his earlier hasty departure.
The energy bubbles containing Vegeta and Nappa remained suspended in mid-air beside Piccolo, who watched Toji's departure with narrowed eyes.
As Toji slipped through the window, he immediately noticed the bathroom door still ajar, dried blood staining the tiles, and scattered pills - evidence of the original Toji's final moments.
He closed the bathroom door with a gentle push, not quite ready to deal with that particular mess.
The apartment was small but functional - a combined living room and kitchenette, a bathroom, and a single bedroom.
Signs of poverty were evident in the worn furniture and bare necessities, but everything was meticulously clean.
Whoever Toji Fushiguro had been, he'd taken pride in what little he had.
Toji began searching through drawers and cabinets, looking for anything that might tell him more about his new identity.
In the desk drawer, he found a worn leather wallet containing a driver's license, a library card, and exactly forty-three zeni - just as he'd somehow known.
"Toji Fushiguro," he murmured, examining the ID. "Twenty years old. Blood type O. Born West City Hospital."
Next came a stack of medical bills marked "FINAL NOTICE" and "PAYMENT OVERDUE." The name on them read "Kaori Fushiguro" - likely his mother.
The amounts were staggering, explaining the empty bank account.
In the bedroom closet, behind a stack of neatly folded clothes, he discovered a small wooden box.
Inside lay a collection of photographs and notes - a beautiful dark-haired woman holding a baby; the same woman, years later, looking thin and pale beside a teenage boy; and finally, a formal portrait of an elegant couple standing before an impressive mansion, the woman clearly pregnant.
"So that's the story," Toji muttered, piecing together the narrative. "Rich father, affair with the maid, bastard child cast out with his mother. Classic."
A small diary bound in faded blue leather caught his attention next.
Flipping through it revealed entries spanning several years, detailing the original Toji's struggle to care for his ailing mother while working multiple jobs. The final entry was dated just three days ago:
"Buried Mom today. No one came. Not even him. I have nothing left."
Toji set the diary aside, a strange heaviness settling in his chest. He'd focus on that later. For now, he needed to think strategically about his future in this world.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he closed his eyes and began to organize his thoughts.
'First priority: Frieza,' he reasoned. 'If things follow the original timeline, he and I should be equal in raw power. But he's had decades, maybe centuries to master his abilities. I can't rely on power alone.'
His fingers tapped restlessly against his knee.
'I need an edge. The Kaioken would be perfect - multiply my already insane power level and I'd be unstoppable. But getting Goku to teach me...'
He frowned, realizing the complications.
'Goku would probably be willing, but he's too respectful of King Kai to share the technique without permission. I'll need to convince them both it's necessary.'
A humorless smile crossed his face.
'Maybe I can come up with a joke good enough to impress King Kai. "Why did Frieza cross the galaxy? To get to the other side... of immortality!" No, that's terrible.'
But the Frieza situation was just the immediate concern. The longer Toji thought, the more questions bubbled up, each more unsettling than the last.
'What timeline am I even in?' he wondered, pacing the small bedroom. 'Is this heading toward GT? Super? Something entirely different?'
He yanked open another drawer, finding nothing but socks and underwear.
'Does Beerus exist here? Zeno? The other universes?' His movements became more agitated as he searched the closet. 'What about the Time Patrol? Demigra? Is this universe still at risk of erasure due to its mortal level?'
He slammed the closet door shut harder than intended, cracking the cheap wood.
'I don't know ANYTHING for certain!' he realized, frustration mounting as he tore through a stack of papers on the desk. 'I'm flying blind with powers that could destroy worlds.'
Taking a deep breath, Toji forced himself to calm down. Getting angry wouldn't solve anything. He needed to be methodical, strategic.
'One thing at a time. Never mention anything about my past life or knowledge of future events- even out loud. Who knows who might be watching or listening - whether from space, other timelines, past or present or other realms.'
He nodded to himself, decision made.
'My best bet is to focus on getting stronger. And for that...' his thoughts turned to a certain frost demon, '...I need to understand how Frieza's transformations work.'
The more Toji considered it, the more convinced he became.
'That magnificent bastard lizard. In Resurrection F, he explicitly stated that he CHOSE gold as the color for his transformation. And he's mentioned creating his suppressive forms multiple times.'
Toji's eyes widened as the implications became clear.
'Either it's a genetic ability of his race to shapeshift, or it's a technique he developed. I'm betting on the latter.'
He reasoned through the evidence: 'Creating a suppressive form to contain power is completely different from creating a form that multiplies power like Golden Frieza did. If these were separate genetic abilities, that would be too coincidental.'
'And Frieza himself only mentioned training - bettering what he already had, not discovering something new about his biology. If it's a technique...' Toji smiled, '...then I can learn it too. Creating transformations, deciding their appearance - ones even clearly able to surpass Super Saiyan 3 in multiplicat-'
His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden spike in agitated ki signatures outside. The three he'd left waiting were clearly getting restless - and hostile.
"Great," he muttered, hastily stuffing his ID, the diary, and a few other essential items into a backpack he found under the bed. "Can't leave them alone for five minutes."
Toji flew out through the window, backpack slung over one shoulder, to find Piccolo and Vegeta engaged in a heated argument.
Nappa looked on with barely contained glee at the conflict, despite still being trapped in his energy bubble.
"-don't care what your intentions are, Namekian," Vegeta was snarling. "Once I'm free, I'll-"
"You'll what?" Piccolo growled back with a smirk. "You're nothing but a prisoner now. Your days of destroying planets- of conquest- of lordship are over."
"ENOUGH!" Toji shouted, inserting himself between them - or as much as one could when one party was contained in an energy sphere. "What part of 'play nice' was unclear?"
Piccolo's antennae twitched in irritation. "He started making threats about what he'd do once you released him."
"I was merely discussing future possibilities," Vegeta countered with a smirk. "Not my fault the Namekian is so sensitive."
Toji pinched the bridge of his nose, suddenly feeling like a parent to three exceptionally powerful and emotionally stunted children.
"How long were you gone anyway?" Nappa grumbled. "Felt like hours."
"It was exactly fifty-eight minutes," Toji replied dryly. "And what did you find that was so important?" Vegeta demanded, eyeing the small backpack.
Toji shrugged. "Just the basics. ID, some personal items. Nothing that matters to you."
"So what now?" Piccolo asked. "We can't exactly keep them in those bubbles forever."
"We're not staying in the city," Toji announced. "I'm broke. Completely. Those forty-three zeni in my wallet wouldn't even buy dinner for one of us, let alone four."
All three stared at him with identical expressions of disbelief.
"You're... broke?" Vegeta finally managed, sounding genuinely confused. "You possess power that surpasses the Prince of Destruction - ME, the one who whole civilisations tremble at the name of - himself, and you're concerned about MONEY?"
"You could take whatever you wanted," Nappa added, as if explaining something obvious to a child. "No one could stop you."
"That's not how I operate," Toji replied simply. "We're heading into the wilderness. I know a good spot with fresh water and plenty of fish."
The incredulous stares continued.
"You could be ruling this planet," Vegeta said slowly, "and instead you're suggesting we... go camping?"
Toji grinned. "Exactly. Now let's go before it gets dark."
-------------------------
Hours later, as stars began to pepper the night sky, the unlikely quartet sat around a crackling campfire beside a clear, rushing river.
The location Toji had chosen was remote - a small clearing in a forest miles from the nearest human settlement.
With practiced movements, Toji used his telekinetic ki control to lift several large fish from the river, suspending them in mid-air as water dripped from their silvery scales.
"These should do nicely," he said, lowering them onto a flat rock beside the fire. "Piccolo, I don't suppose you could materialize some cooking equipment? Maybe some spices, salt, rice, and oil?"
Piccolo scowled. "I'm not your personal market."
"Fair enough," Toji shrugged. "Bland fish it is, then."
After a moment's hesitation, Piccolo grudgingly extended his hand. With a flash of light and a series of popping sounds, cooking implements, bowls, and various containers of seasonings appeared on the ground.
"I'm not eating bland fish either," the Namekian muttered.
Toji laughed, genuinely amused. "Appreciate it."
To everyone's surprise, Toji began preparing the meal with evident skill.
His hands moved with habbitual ease as he gutted and filleted the fish, seasoned them perfectly, and set them to cook alongside a pot of rice.
"You know how to cook?" Piccolo asked, watching with mild interest.
"Yes," Toji replied, somewhat surprised himself.
'Must be memory from this body- I just seem to know what to do. Seems the original Toji was quite handy in the kitchen.'
As delicious aromas began wafting from the cooking food, even Vegeta and Nappa couldn't hide their interest.
Though they maintained stoic expressions, Nappa's stomach betrayed him with a growl audible even over the crackling fire.
Toji had modified their energy bubbles to allow them to sit comfortably and eat, though the restraints remained firmly in place.
When the meal was ready, he distributed large portions to everyone, including a surprisingly generous amount to the Saiyan prisoners.
"So," Toji began casually as they ate, "tell me more about this Freezer guy. What exactly am I up against?"
Vegeta chewed slowly, clearly weighing how much information to share. Finally, he spoke:
"It's Frieza. And he is the emperor of most of the known universe. His family - Cold, Cooler, and himself - have controlled the Planet Trade Organization for generations. They acquire valuable worlds and sell them to the highest bidders."
'Cooler, okay, so proof at least some Z movies probably are true. Shit, maybe I've got to eventually deal with the Dark Messiah of the Saiyans himself- rather than his gentle giant version from Super.'
"And what makes him so powerful?" Toji pressed.
"No one knows for certain," Vegeta admitted reluctantly. "His race is naturally gifted with immense power, but Frieza is exceptional even among them."
"He's never been defeated, never even been challenged. Most of his life is spent in suppressed forms because his true power is too great to control casually."
'Huh, they know about his suppressed forms- another difference from the original timeline.'
Nappa nodded vigorously. "I saw him destroy a Planet the size of Vegeta - and just so you know, it dwarfs your little blue ball, it being the size of your Solar Star - with a single attack - from space, using just one finger. The entire planet, gone in seconds."
A heavy silence fell over the group as this information sank in.
"What about you?" Toji asked, turning to Piccolo, feigning ignorance still. "The green skin, antennae - you're not from Earth originally, are you?"
Already having heard the Namekian comments, but deciding it would be better to still ask Piccolo this way, rather than going from Vegeta and Nappa's statements.
Piccolo's eyes narrowed. "I was born on Earth, but my origin is... complicated."
"He's a Namekian," Vegeta interjected. "His people created the Dragon Balls. He probably did this world's as well."
"That's not entirely accurate," Piccolo growled. "I am Piccolo Jr., born from the last egg of the Demon King. I am not its Maker- I am the other-" He stopped abruptly.
"Why am I even indulging you all anyway. I have no need to tell you all anything."
Toji nodded, "Interesting." he commented, but Piccolo himself had already turned silent and focused on eating.
Vegeta himself did so as well, but as he did, he threw Piccolo a smirk, who growled in response- apparently the Prince believed, he won this round of gaining favour.
As the night deepened, they prepared for sleep. Piccolo, wanting to equalise the scores- also still trying to curry favor with Toji, materialized comfortable sleeping gear for him while pointedly refusing to do the same for the Saiyans.
Toji, however, modified their energy bubbles further, creating something akin to hammocks within their prisons- while making it so that the bubble won't dissipate even when he himself fell asleep.
"Get some rest," he told them. "Tomorrow, we start figuring out our next moves."
As he lay back on his bedroll, staring up at the stars as his own eyes began to grow sleepy, Toji couldn't help but find them breathetaking.
Beautiful they were... But oh so fragile he now realised.
Being able to crush them if he put his mind to it.
This universe, it was... truly magnificient.
He couldn't wait to enjoy it.
Those were his last thoughts as his eyes closed, and the blissful darkness took him.
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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!
Do tell me how you found it!
Also, tell me what you think of Toji's theory- does Frieza's transformations work like that, and if it does, what should his transformation be?
Since he can control his looks- as we've seen with how different all the forms are compared to Frieza's fourth.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)