Sixteen years earlier.
In a all white room with windows giving into complete darkness sat alone at a corner table, a girl hunched over a steaming cup she hadn't touched, her flowing red hair falling like a curtain around her pale face. Her large, pearlescent eyes stared into the drink as if it might hold answers, while her small nose crinkled with worry. Pink lips pressed into an anxious line as she unconsciously bit the lower one.
Her nervousness manifested physically - she kept adjusting her ceremonial white tunic where it clung to her full chest, the fabric stretching slightly with each anxious breath. The neckline dipped to reveal the soft valley of her cleavage, which flushed pink with stress. She shifted constantly in her seat, causing her wide hips to press against the bench, the traditional bands of her outfit emphasizing her curvy figure. Her leg bounced under the table, making her whole voluptuous frame tremble slightly.
Around her, fragments of conversation drifted:
"—can't believe Aionia would—"
"—heard it was class Seven—"
"—the Council's furious—"
"AZMINA!"
She jumped, nearly spilling her drink at the sound of her name, as a girl slid onto the bench beside her with characteristic enthusiasm. "Oh ! It's you Chronica". The petite girl was Azmina's opposite in almost every way - where Azmina was tall and curvy, Chronica was small and compact. Her dark skin gleamed under the ethereal lights, and her short, stark white hair was styled in a playful pixie cut that emphasized her childlike face. Though her chest was modest, barely filling out the tunic, her hips flared surprisingly wide for her small frame, giving her a distinct pear shape that the ceremonial bands accentuated. Despite her small stature, she radiated confidence.
"You look like you're about to pass out," Chronica said, stealing a sip of Azmina's drink. "Let me guess - stressing about the Aionia situation?"
"Everyone's talking about it," Azmina whispered, her shoulders drawing inward, making her breasts press together anxiously. "But no one knows what actually happened."
"Oh, I know some things," Chronica grinned, scooting closer conspiratorially. Her small frame made Azmina look even more statuesque by comparison. "My friend in Records said Aionia was managing this soul for his entire life, almost thirty years! Can you imagine? Most of us get rotated every few years, but she refused reassignment."
"Thirty years?" Azmina's eyes widened, her hand clutching at her chest, fingers nervously playing with the golden clasp.
"Gets better," Chronica continued, her dark eyes sparkling with gossip. "Apparently, when it came time for his reincarnation, something went wrong with the cleansing. He retained everything - all his memories, his personality, his... desires." She paused for effect. "And Records thinks Aionia did it on purpose."
Azmina's whole body tensed, her curves becoming more pronounced as she straightened in shock. "But that's—"
"Completely forbidden? Against every protocol? Obsessive and creepy?" Chronica nodded enthusiastically. "Yep, yep, and yep. That's my theory but I think she fell in love with him. Like, scary love. The kind where you sabotage processes just to keep someone the way you know him."
"That's..." Azmina's voice trailed off, her nervousness making her fidget with the fabric at her hips.
"Terrifying? I know!" Chronica patted her shoulder, her small hand barely covering Azmina's curved shoulder. "But here's the real gossip - they say the Council's already picked her replacement. Someone with zero experience."
Azmina's stomach dropped. "You don't think—"
"Azmina!"
Both girls turned to see a woman with glasses approaching, her cold demeanor immediately killing the cafeteria's chatter.
"The Council is ready to receive you."
Chronica's eyes went wide, looking between the messenger and her friend. "Oh shit, Azmina... it's you. You're replacing her."
Azmina stood on shaking legs, her whole curvaceous form trembling. "Y-y-y-yes!"
Chronica jumped up, grabbing her arm. Despite the height difference - Chronica barely reaching Azmina's chest - she pulled her friend aside.
"Listen," she whispered urgently, "Whatever soul they give you, whatever Aionia did to him... keep your distance. Professional distance. Don't let him get under your skin like she did." She stood on her tiptoes, her white hair catching the light. "But also... you got this. You're stronger than you think."
She gave Azmina an encouraging thumbs up, though worry flickered in her dark eyes.
"Thank you, Chronica," Azmina managed, before following the glasses woman out of the cafeteria, feeling the weight of every stare as whispers erupted in their wake.
With fragile determination, she followed down the endless white corridor. This guide wore glasses that caught the light coldly, her identical attire moving with practiced grace. Both women walked in unconscious synchronization, their chests swaying with each step, hips rolling in the natural rhythm of their gait.
They arrived at an imposing door. The bespectacled woman turned, her expression unreadable behind her glasses. "A word of advice: Whatever Aionia tells you in there, remember she's compromised."
"She's... she's in there?"
The woman's lips thinned. "Go ahead. Stand in the center."
Azmina's newfound confidence evaporated instantly. "Y-yes," she whispered, pushing through the door.
"Council! How can you do this to me!" A voice rang out, mature and commanding despite its desperation. "I've been with him since he was nothing but a crying infant! Every struggle, every triumph, every moment he fought to become the man of power and importance—I was THERE! He needs me, he's always needed me, and somewhere deep in his soul he can still feel my presence calling to him!"
The chamber was vast and dimly lit, with semicircular walls rising to impossible heights. Shadowed figures sat in judgment above, while below in the center stood a woman of breathtaking presence. She was tall and elegant, with platinum hair that seemed to flow like liquid moonlight. Her face was a study in refined beauty twisted by emotion - thin blue eyes blazed with something beyond fury beneath long lashes, tears of obsession threatening to spill. Her aquiline nose flared with each angry breath, while her full, rose-pink lips trembled between rage and a possessive love that had clearly crossed every boundary.
Her ceremonial attire was more elaborate than Azmina's, adorned with intricate patterns that emphasized rather than concealed her statuesque figure. The fabric traced the natural curve of her full breasts, while the traditional bands framed hips that flowed into long, toned legs.
"Silence, Aionia! Your crimes are clear!" The voice from above dripped with disgust. "You deliberately corrupted the cleansing protocols. You violated the most sacred of our law!"
Aionia pressed a hand to her chest, desperation cracking through her composure. "For love! Everything I did was for love! He deserved to remember his life, to remember ME! Not be wiped clean!"
"THAT'S!... that's precisely why," one shadow interrupted. "You allowed your obsession to override your duties. And here comes the one who will replace you."
Aionia turned, her gaze falling on Azmina. For a moment, she studied the younger overseer's obvious inexperience. Her expression shifted through multiple emotions - rage at being replaced, possessive concern for 'her' soul, and something almost predatory as she assessed Azmina's weakness. Then, with visible effort, she composed herself and strode toward the exit without looking at her.
Azmina lifted her head, catching a glimpse of dangerous obsession in those blue eyes before Aionia disappeared.
"Approach, Azmina," commanded a voice from above.
"Yes," she answered, moving to the center where Aionia had stood, her legs trembling.
"You now understand the situation. Your predecessor deliberately sabotaged the reincarnation process of this soul."
"One final warning, Azmina," the council's voice turned cold. "Do not repeat Aionia's mistakes. No emotional investment, no personal attachment, no matter how many years pass. You observe, you guide when necessary, but you do NOT engage with this soul on any personal level. We will not tolerate another Aionia situation. The consequences for such failure would be... severe."
"Y-y-y-yes, I understand, council!"
Azmina exited the council chamber on unsteady legs, her mind churning with conflicting thoughts. She pitied Aionia—watching a soul for thirty years had twisted duty into obsession, love into madness. Yet despite the warnings, despite witnessing such a spectacular downfall, Azmina couldn't help wondering: what kind of soul could inspire someone to destroy themselves so completely? She shook her head sharply. She wouldn't make Aionia's mistakes. She couldn't. But the dangerous curiosity remained, quiet and insistent.
Present Day
In huge rocky area, Piccolo lay broken on the ground, his face a mask of blood and bruised flesh. Standing triumphantly on his massive chest, Goku wore a bright, cheerful smile that contrasted disturbingly with the violence he'd inflicted.
"Let's continue!" Goku said pleasantly, throwing what appeared to be a light, casual punch downward.
BOOM!
The impact was catastrophic. Piccolo's eyes bulged grotesquely as blood erupted from his mouth. The ground beneath him splintered into a web of cracks that spread twenty feet in every direction.
BOOM! Another "light" punch. More blood, more fractures in the earth.
BOOM! A third strike—but this time Piccolo's eyes snapped wide, his pupils flashing red as twin beams of energy erupted toward Goku's face.
Goku tilted his head, dodging the first beam by inches, but the second caught him across the shoulder, tearing through his shirt and leaving a burning graze across his skin.
"Oh, that's a cool trick!" Goku said with genuine enthusiasm, examining his wound. "How do you do it?"
"Go to hell, monkey!" Piccolo spat, his pride shattering with each word.
Goku's eyes narrowed with interest. He squinted, feeling power building behind his irises. His pupils flushed red while black veins traced patterns around them like dark tributaries. Energy gathered, compressed, then—
He whipped his head skyward.
The crimson laser erupted from his eyes, carving through the air where it had been aimed at the ground. Instead, it traced two devastating arc—slicing clean through both of Piccolo's arms before continuing hundreds of meters into the distance, splitting the ground in two perfect line that ended in a series of explosions.
Goku blinked rapidly, the red fading from his eyes. "Shit! That was dangerous!"
Behind him, Piano's beak fell open in horror. Pilaf and Shu had collapsed onto their asses, trembling with terror. But beside the airship, Mai was jumping up and down, applauding with unbridled joy.
"That's incredible, Mister Goku!" she cheered.
Goku turned to her with a proud smile and gave her a thumbs up—all while Piccolo writhed in agony beneath him, armless, sweating, and bleeding out. This wasn't a fight anymore. It was systematic torture, and the supposed hero was enjoying every second of it.
The sound of an approaching aircraft cut through Piccolo's groans. As it landed, Tien and Chaozu emerged first with Roshi. Then Blonde Launch burst from the craft, sprinting across the battlefield. She leaped over Piccolo's giant body and wrapped Goku in a hug from behind while simultaneously flipping off the dying demon king.
Then Goku saw them.
A shiny bald head catching the sunlight. Short blue hair bouncing with each step.
He'd known they were resurrected, but actually seeing Krillin and Bulma alive again made something twist in his chest.
"GOKU!" Krillin ran toward him, tears streaming down his face. "It was so scary! I was dead and then—AAAAAAAAHHH!"
He stopped mid-sentence, screaming at the top of his lungs as he registered Piccolo's mutilated form.
"Say... Goku," Krillin backed away slowly, "what's the project with him?"
"Well," Goku said casually, "torturing him a little bit, then killing him."
"I see," Krillin nodded, as if this was perfectly reasonable.
Bulma approached more cautiously. "Bulma, how do you feel—" Goku began.
"Don't need to thank—BUAH!"
Her palm connected with his head hard enough to hurt her hand.
"YOU TOOK YOUR SWEET TIME TO RESURRECT ME!" she screamed.
"YOU FUCKING BITCH, DO YOU KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH?!" Goku shouted back, with Roshi, Krillin, and Tien suddenly having to hold him back while Launch fired her gun into the air, delighted by the chaos.
"You had to go through a lot for a princess like me," Bulma said, eyes closed, hand pressed dramatically to her chest. "I'm worth it, Son-kun."
"Worth it? You?" Goku snorted. "Yeah, maybe your ass or your tits! But certainly not the whole package!"
"WHAAAAT?!" Bulma's face went red. "You're just jealous!"
"Jealous of what exactly?"
"Shut up, you fools!" Piccolo suddenly raised his head, gathering energy in his mouth for a desperate blast—
Without even looking, Goku pointed his finger. A thin beam of ki shot out, severing Piccolo's neck just enough to cut his vocal cords and disrupt the attack. The demon king collapsed, choking on his own blood.
"Jealous because I'm Yamcha's girlfriend!" Bulma announced with a triumphant smile, waiting for his reaction.
Goku crossed his arms and tilted his head, studying her with an almost pitying expression.
"Girl, stop," Goku said.
"Huh?" Bulma responded.
"I like Yamcha, buuuut..." Goku continued.
"But what?!" Bulma demanded.
"Listen, you two are not made for each other. Yamcha could never handle a girl like you." Goku shook his head knowingly.
"I mean, I know I'm beautiful, smart, and have the personality of an angel! It's almost a sin! Ohohoho!" She laughed behind her hand in that haughty way of hers.
Goku scratched his head. "More like a savage one."
SMACK! Another hit, another hurt hand.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SAVAGE?!"
Krillin tried to interject: "Guys, could we discuss this after—BLEH!"
Bulma's slap sent him sprawling, and Lunch and Mai promptly sat on him to keep him down, their ears wide open to the drama unfolding.
"Yamcha is soft," Goku continued, ignoring the interruption. "He's a follower. You, on the other hand, have a... 'strong' personality and need someone who can match your energy, someone stronger in character."
"Let me guess," Goku said, his adult experience showing through, "during these four years since you decided to become a couple, I bet you barely saw each other. And when you did see each other, nothing happened. Am I wrong?"
Bulma's confident facade cracked. Lunch and Mai leaned in closer, captivated.
"And even worse..." Goku raised a finger with a knowing smirk, "I bet you haven't even kissed."
"So what?! That's what couples are supposed to do! These things take time!" Her smile had completely vanished, replaced by a defensive frown, arms crossed tightly.
"I mean, to each their own, but that's not what I'm used to," he said with a casual shrug.
The battlefield went silent.
"Used to?!" Bulma gasped.
"Used to?!" Lunch echoed.
"Used to?!" Mai squeaked.
"USED TO?!" Roshi tried to surge forward before Krillin desperately pulled him back.
"Let them settle this, Muten Roshi-sama!" Krillin pleaded.
"What do you mean 'used to'?!" Bulma demanded. "You're sixteen! You're a hillbilly from a mountain who's trained all his life! The only girls you've known are me—"
"And me," Lunch added.
"And me," Mai chimed in.
Roshi raised his hand enthusiastically before Krillin forced it down.
"The details don't matter," Goku waved dismissively. "What matters is I'm spot-on about your relationship with Yamcha. So no, I'm not jealous of Yamcha and your sorry excuse for dates."
Bulma's eyes flashed dangerously. "Okay then! Show me!"
"Show you what?"
"What a real boyfriend does! What a good date looks like!" She lifted her chin imperiously. "I grant you permission to take me as your temporary girlfriend!"
"GRANT ME?!" Goku's eye twitched. "How do you always manage to raise my blood pressure? Anyway, I have things to finish here." He turned to Mai. "Take Bulma back to Kame House."
"REMEMBER, SON-KUN!" Bulma called out dramatically as Mai lifted her toward the aircraft. "REMEMBER YOUR PROMISE!"
"Why does she sound like a villain making a threat?" Goku muttered, watching as Krillin, Chaozu, and Lunch also headed for the plane, leaving him alone with the dying demon king.
The comedy drained from his face as he looked down at Piccolo's broken form.
"Now then... where were we?"
Roshi and Tien stood next to Goku, looking down at the suffering Piccolo.
"What do you plan to do, Goku?" Roshi asked.
"Not much. Kill him now," Goku responded casually, walking toward Piccolo's head and squatting to look into his eyes upside down. "Piccolo... any last word or a wish ?."
Piccolo didn't answer. Instead, his throat began to bulge—another egg was about to come out of his mouth.
"That's nasty as fuck." Goku lifted his hand, aiming at Piccolo's head, ready to obliterate both him and the egg. The ki ball began growing in his palm.
"Don't do it!" A feminine voice flashed through his mind.
Goku turned his head left and right, looking behind him and toward Tien and Roshi. "Goku! What's wrong?" Tien asked.
"You didn't hear a voice?" Goku questioned, turning toward Mai, Lunch, and Bulma, but they were too far away to have spoken so close to his ear. Roshi and Tien answered that they hadn't heard anything.
"Never mind. It's probably this green shit playing with me." Goku raised his hand again.
"No! At least let the egg live!" the feminine voice pleaded desperately.
"What's that? Who are you?" Goku demanded. Tien and Roshi watched him speaking to apparently no one.
"If you don't answer me, I will kill him." No response came. "Three... two... one..."
"Okay, stop! Who I am doesn't matter. All you need to know is not to kill him!" The feminine voice tried to sound confident.
"It does matter to me. You're speaking inside my head, and that seriously pisses me off. I'm not gonna agree to something just because a voice said so," Goku replied, hitting her with logic.
"Come one! Just believe in me! I can't tell you about the Dragon Balls—GEH!" She folded under no pressure.
Goku turned to Roshi. "If I kill him, something will happen to the Dragon Balls?"
"Don't know," Roshi shrugged.
High above on a floating platform, stood a palace with a grand courtyard. Inside, two figures conversed in shadow.
"Kami-sama! How does he know?! Even Korin doesn't have this knowledge!" one figure exclaimed.
"Calm down, Mr. Popo... It doesn't matter. He has to kill Piccolo," Kami said firmly.
"But Kami-sama! If Piccolo dies, you will die, and the Dragon Balls with you!" Mr. Popo protested.
"It is better this way for the world... The Dragon Balls are being misused for egotistical reasons. Korin! Do you hear me?!" Kami called out.
"Y-yes, Kami-sama!" Korin responded.
"Tell Roshi to convince the boy to kill Piccolo."
"Of course, Kami-sama!" Korin said, then muttered to himself, "If Piccolo dies, Kami-sama dies? And the Dragon Balls are gone? But more curious—how did this boy know about that?!"
---
Back at the battlefield, the egg was emerging from Piccolo Daimao's mouth.
"Roshi! Roshi! Tell the boy to kill Piccolo!" Korin spoke telepathically to Roshi.
"Korin-sama!? Understood!" Roshi acknowledged. "Goku! You have to kill him!"
"Why all of a sudden?" Goku asked.
They all watched as the egg fell from Piccolo's mouth and began crackling. A small green boy emerged, resembling Piccolo Daimao perfectly. He wore a tiny purple robe with the Mazoku crest on his chest. The child looked at the giant green man dying on the ground, then at Goku squatting near his head. His little fists clenched.
"I will avenge my father!" he declared in his tiny voice, his eyes glowing red as ki lasers fired toward Goku.
Goku opened his hand, intercepting the laser with his palm and deflecting it skyward. The little demon was shocked, but his rage remained unchanged.
When Kami saw this new creature, he immediately cut off Korin to speak directly to Roshi. "Roshi! Hurry! Tell that boy to kill it!"
Kami felt the danger emanating from the little demon and wanted to end it immediately.
"But Kami-sama... That's only a kid..." Roshi hesitated.
Suddenly, a flashing light began emanating from Piccolo Daimao's body—he had died. Everyone turned toward the increasingly bright light.
"His body's going to explode! Leave the area and let the explosion kill his progeny!" Kami commanded.
"Goku! Move! He's gonna explode!" Roshi shouted, backing away with Tien, but Goku didn't move. He remained squatting next to the body, watching the child.
"Father! Your will shall be done!" the boy cried, his face contorted with rage and sorrow, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Goku!" Roshi shouted again as the light became blindingly bright.
The little boy tried to back up but tripped on his robe. Goku saw it and clenched his teeth—seeing a harmless child made his stomach twist. Piccolo's body was about to explode.
"Goku! Leave him! For the sake of humanity!" Roshi pleaded.
Then the explosion began. Everything moved in slow motion for Goku as the blast threatened to consume the child.
"SAVE HIM, BUNSHICHI!" the feminine voice from earlier shouted desperately.
Hearing his previous name made Goku twitch. Using the spring of his legs, he dashed forward, the ground shattering beneath him as he positioned himself in front of the child, shielding him with his back.
The detonation was catastrophic.
A blinding white sphere of pure energy erupted from Piccolo Daimao's corpse, expanding outward with devastating force. The ground vaporized instantly at the epicenter, creating a massive crater. Rocks turned to dust, dust turned to ash, and the very air ignited. The shockwave rippled outward, flattening everything within a fifty-meter radius—boulders were pulverized, the earth was scorched black, and debris shot outward like deadly projectiles.
Tien dove behind a rock formation, feeling the heat wash over him like dragon's breath. Pilaf and Shu screamed in terror, hiding behind Piano as the shockwave nearly knocked them over. Roshi planted his staff in the ground, his robes whipping violently as he shielded his eyes from the blinding light.
In the midst of this devastation stood Goku, his back to the inferno. His shirt disintegrated instantly, his skin reddening as the superheated air and energy washed over him. His muscles tensed, absorbing the punishment as waves of destruction broke against his body like water against a dam. His hair whipped forward from the force, but he didn't move an inch.
In front of Goku, in the shadow of his protection, was the only untouched spot in the entire area—a perfect silhouette of safety where the young Piccolo crouched, completely unharmed.
When the smoke finally cleared, Goku remained standing, his back exposed and burned, wisps of smoke rising from his scorched skin. Beneath him, the child looked up with wide eyes, utterly shocked. The contrast was stark—behind Goku lay complete devastation, a blackened wasteland of destruction. In front of him, the ground was pristine, untouched, with the small green child sitting in stunned silence.
The child's expression shifted from shock to confusion, then to something unreadable. Without a word, he pushed Goku and walked away in complete silence, his small figure disappearing into the distance.
Goku watched him go, saying nothing, as the others slowly emerged from their cover, staring at the scene in disbelief.
Goku stood up, smoke still rising from his burned back. He grabbed what remained of his shirt and ripped it from his body, the fabric still smoldering, while watching the small green child run away into the distance.
"Every person is not born good or evil..." Goku muttered to himself, watching the small figure disappear over the horizon.
From the other side of the crater, Roshi called out, "Goku! Are you alright?!"
Goku turned toward them and jumped, leaving a trail of dust behind him before landing next to them, sliding slightly from the momentum.
"Goku! Why didn't you let him die?!" Roshi demanded.
"I don't follow orders," Goku said simply, even though his desire to protect the child had aligned with the mysterious voice's plea.
"Well, this order came directly from Kami-sama!" Roshi insisted.
"Kami-sama?! He spoke directly with you?!" Tien asked, surprised.
"Why didn't he come to kill him himself if he wanted it that badly?" Goku asked, shirtless now, putting his hands in his pockets casually.
"Fool! It's Kami-sama! We don't discuss his orders—" Roshi began, then suddenly stopped mid-sentence, his expression changing.
"What's wrong, old man? Having a seizure?" Goku asked.
Roshi started sweating before looking at Goku with a serious expression. "Kami-sama wants to talk to you... at the Sanctuary."
"No," Goku responded flatly.
"Yeah, it's at the top of—WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?!" Roshi exploded.
"I don't want to. I've had enough of fighting and training for now. I'm gonna take some vacation!" Goku declared.
"What?! An invitation from Kami-sama is not something you refuse!" Roshi tried desperately to convince him.
"Well, I do! Plus, if he wants to talk to me, why doesn't he speak directly to me?" Goku turned toward Roshi with a serious look. "That means his powers are limited. And the God I believe in is not limited."
He turned back toward the last airplane left. "I'll go see him when I want to."
"You fool! Don't be so arrogant!" Roshi shouted, following him.
But privately, Roshi was curious too. *That's true... Why doesn't Kami-sama speak directly with Goku?*
Goku entered the plane, followed by Roshi and Tien. He stretched, his bones cracking audibly. "So tired... It's been three days of non-stop effort and no sleep... Oh, by the way—" He turned his head, pointing toward Piano, Piccolo's pterodactyl assistant. "If you do something, Birdy, I'll come and eat you. Live discreetly and go fuck some birds or something."
Piano, terrified after witnessing what Goku had done to Piccolo Daimao, nodded his head rapidly in agreement.
Tien ignited the engine and began flying toward Kame House. Goku had already forgotten about Kami, Piccolo, everything. The only remaining question lingered in his mind: Who was that voice, and why did it know his name from before he died?
During the ride, Goku slept deeply.
He opened his eyes and found himself in an all-white room. "Where am I?" he said while walking through the infinite space, his footsteps echoing endlessly.
"Is there someone here?" His voice echoed again.
Goku lifted his hand to gather ki and shoot a ki ball, but nothing happened—he couldn't gather any energy. He looked at his hands, still the small, rough hands. He continued walking through the infinite corridor for almost ten minutes until he'd had enough and turned back, but behind him wasn't the long corridor he'd walked through. Instead, there was a wall with a door.
"I want you." A voice drifted from beyond the door—sensual, mature, dripping with desire.
Goku grabbed the knob, but before turning it, he glanced left at a mirror. He saw himself—the sixteen-year-old body with spiky hair and ripped shirt. He turned back to the door and twisted the knob.
A flash.
His hand was suddenly much larger than the knob, a strong hand with long fingers. The doorknob was lower now. He turned to the mirror again.
A man stared back—tall with long, toned legs, a chiseled physique carved like marble, shoulders broad and powerful, a face of cold beauty with sharp aristocratic features, and eyes that held depths of experience his current self couldn't fathom. This was him. His previous self.
"Go ahead, Bunshichi-sama... Enter," the same voice beckoned.
He pushed open the door to find a dimly lit room with what appeared to be a royal bed in the middle. On it sat a vision—a woman of otherworldly beauty with long, perfectly sculpted legs, toned and round thighs visible where her tunic had ridden up, hips curving beneath the silk fabric, her chest rising and falling beneath the thin material. Her lips were parted, cheeks flushed, eyes burning with unmistakable desire for Bunshichi.
Goku approached the foot of the bed, standing tall. She moved onto all fours and began crawling toward him slowly, her body swaying hypnotically beneath the bands of her tunic. She rose up on her knees, grazing her lips against Bunshichi's abs, trailing up his chest, along his neck, across his cheek, until she reached his mouth.
"I've ached for you," she breathed against his lips. "Every moment apart feels like eternity. My body, my soul—everything cries out for you."
She kissed him then, soft at first, then deeper, more desperate. Bunshichi remained still, unresponsive, as she wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing in existence—as if letting go would mean falling into an abyss from which she could never return.
Her lips pressed against his mouth, soft and warm. She parted them slightly, her bottom lip sliding between both of his as she tilted her head for better angle. Her tongue traced along his lower lip before pushing past, exploring the inside of his mouth—running along his teeth, stroking against his unresponsive tongue. She sucked gently on his bottom lip, then pressed harder, her mouth opening wider to take more of him.
Her lips grew swollen from the pressure, slick with saliva as she alternated between deep, probing movements of her tongue and pulling back to catch his lips between hers. A thin strand of saliva connected their mouths when she pulled back slightly, only to dive back in, her teeth grazing his upper lip. Her mouth worked against his with increasing friction, lips sliding wetly against his still face, her tongue persistent in mapping every surface it could reach despite his complete lack of response.
She broke the kiss, a thread of saliva connecting them briefly before she let herself fall back onto the bed. Her long legs bent and pressed together before she slowly separated them, letting her tunic fall between them to preserve her modesty. Her hands traced along her inner thighs as she whispered:
"Come to me, my love... Let us be united."
Darkness began to envelope the room, swallowing everything. Then a small light appeared, growing bigger and bigger until—
Goku's eyes snapped open. He was in the plane, the engine's hum filling his ears.
Next to him, Roshi felt him waking up and turned toward him. "You slept soundly. We're almost there."
Goku rubbed his eyes. "I had a strange dream... It felt so real..."
Roshi's eyes caught something and his gaze lowered, then he saw it. "I bet it was a good dream, hohoho!"
Goku followed his eyes and frowned. "Yeah, well, look away. It's not for you."
"It's good to be young! By the way, it's been four years and you haven't fulfilled your part of the bargain!" Roshi whispered to Goku.
"What bargain, old man?" asked Goku.
"When you came to train, if I took you as a disciple, you promised to show me—" Roshi whispered the rest in Goku's ear.
"Oh yeah... I did say that. Well, we'll go this week," Goku said casually, giving him a thumbs up.
"WAHOO!" Roshi jumped on the seats, doing a hip dance.
"Do you want to come with us, Tien?" Goku asked, leaning forward to the driver's seat.
"No, I'll train by myself with Chaozu," Tien replied.
"What? Who talked about training... Anyway, good luck," said Goku.
After ten long minutes of Roshi's hip dancing, the airplane finally landed on the small island of Kame House. Goku jumped out, stretching himself.
"Ahhh... I'm going to enjoy this vacation!"
Before he could finish his sentence, he heard a ruckus inside the house.
"I'm a better shot than you!" came Lunch's loud voice.
"Nonsense. My aim is notably better, and my mercenary training shows it," Mai's calm, confident voice responded.
"Then let's test it!" both voices shouted in unison.
Goku marched toward the door just as Krillin, Bulma, Puar, Oolong, and Yamcha dove out through the windows. Goku looked at them, then opened the door.
RATATATATA!
The sound of two Uzis firing in unison filled the air, peppering Goku with bullets that left holes in what remained of his clothing and red dots on his skin like bee stings—not injuring him, but definitely annoying him.
Both women realized their mistake and quickly threw their guns away, putting their hands behind their backs.
"M-M-Mister Goku! You're back!" Mai's voice shook.
"H-Hey, Goku!" Lunch desperately tried to make herself sneeze to avoid what was coming.
Goku's eyebrow twitched.
SMACK! SMACK!
"I'm gonna take a shower..." Goku said, heading toward the bathroom, leaving Mai and Lunch on the ground with lumps on their heads.
Goku entered the bathroom and removed what was left of his expensive clothing. He looked at it. "These bitches!" He burned the scraps with his hand, then sank into the bathtub, relaxing in the hot water.
Goku stayed in the tub for thirty minutes. As the water started dropping in temperature, he opened his palm under the water and created a ball of ki. The water began heating, then boiling. He closed his hand with a satisfied sigh.
"That feels sooooo gooood."
Then Goku opened his eyes, remembering. "Hey, are you there?" he said aloud. "Talk to me... I'm talking to YOU—"
"Shush! Don't talk to me!" the feminine voice whispered urgently in his head.
"There you are. Now I need some explanations."
"Not now! I will come to you. I have to go!"
Goku got up from the bathtub, reaching for a towel to dry himself, then remembered. "Oh, I don't have clothes."
"Here are some clothes, Mister Goku," Mai said from the side, kneeling at an angle in the shadows, handing clothing to him. Her face was red, blushing, her breathing heavy.
Goku took the clothes from her and put them on—black shorts and a large white T-shirt. Mai was surprised at his composure.
"Mister Goku, you knew I was here? How?" she asked, truly curious.
Without looking, Goku tapped his nose with his index finger. "The smell..."
Mai started to panic, smelling her armpits, thinking she stank of sweat, but found nothing.
"Your passion dripping out," he said calmly, adjusting his shorts.
Mai looked at him with a clueless expression before her eyes went wide and her cheeks turned even redder. She immediately leaned forward, covering the crime scene.
Goku grabbed the handle of the door and opened it. Before going out, he said, "You too, Lunch," and walked out.
Mai turned left and right before finding Lunch behind her in the corner of the ceiling. Both women turned their heads in opposite directions, blushing.
"Use this chance to shower!" Goku called back to them.
Goku arrived at the living room where everyone else had gathered. Tien and Chaozu stood up.
"Everyone, we'll head out," Tien announced.
"Where are you going?" Goku asked, sitting on the sofa.
"Him and Chaozu will go train for the next Tenkaichi Budokai," Krillin explained.
"Huh? Why the rush? It's in three years," said Goku. Behind him, Roshi was sneaking away.
"We need every day to catch up to you, Goku!" Tien said with a determined smile.
"Okay... I was hoping for a boys' night out... Well, Krillin and Yamcha, are you in?" Goku turned to both of them with an expectant look.
"Goku... Like Tien said, we need to close the gap..." Yamcha said awkwardly.
"Oh come on! So what, it's only me then?" Goku complained.
"Well, there is Muten Roshi-sama..." Krillin started.
Just as he finished his sentence, the sound of automatic gunfire erupted, and Roshi came running toward the exit with holes in his clothes. When Goku saw that, he facepalmed so hard the slap echoed.
After a while, everyone gathered outside to say their goodbyes. Tien and Chaozu were going their own route, while Krillin, Yamcha, Puar, Oolong, and Bulma would head to the city and separate from there. But then Goku went toward Tien, asking something before both of them went behind Kame House.
Meanwhile, Krillin, Puar, and Oolong climbed into the airplane. Yamcha approached with his cane, still injured. He turned to Bulma.
"Go ahead, Bulma. I'll let you drive."
Bulma had her arms crossed, looking pissed with a lot on her mind. Finally, she said, "No!"
Yamcha looked puzzled. "Huh? Why? You're staying here?"
"Yes! If I go back with you, I'll just be home and you'll be training, never seeing each other. So I'm staying here! At least Son-kun is here."
"O-okay then. I'll try to visit you often," Yamcha said uncertainly.
After ten minutes, Tien and Goku came back. Tien went directly into the plane with Choazu, saying goodbye to everyone.
"Appreciate it, Tien. Take care," said Goku with a small smile before they took off.
Then Goku approached Bulma. "What are you doing with your feet on the ground? Shouldn't you be inside the plane?"
"Rejoice, Son-kun! I will stay here until further notice," she said with a big smile.
A shiver rolled down Goku's spine at the words. "What?! Why?!"
"What do you mean 'why'?! Aren't you happy that a beauty like me stays in your company?!" she said angrily.
Yamcha looked at them before sitting in the plane. "Goku, take care of her, please," he said with a small smile.
"I'd rather not..." Goku muttered.
Immediately, Bulma jumped on his throat, trying to strangle him while Goku waved to the departing plane.
"What an annoying little prick! Doesn't know when blessings fall upon him!" she shouted.
All the fighters had gone to train, leaving only Goku, Bulma, Lunch, Mai, Roshi, and Turtle at Kame House. This vacation might not be so restful after all.