Chapter Text
Given the kind of person he could have originally become, Goku didn't have much to complain about. He was a happy man, surrounded by the people he loved and living as he pleased, he saw no point in imagining himself anywhere else. He was perfectly fine as he was.
Although sometimes things got more complicated than expected, problems resurfaced before he had a chance to solve them, and the whole world seemed to be against him.
Goku just wanted to know why.
Of course, after the absolute hell that was Namek, perhaps it had been hasty to assume that was the end of it. If there was one thing he should have learned a long time ago, it was to keep his mouth shut.
Back in that moment, he felt a mixture of shock and joy when he landed on Earth and found everyone there, right in the middle of nowhere, without giving much thought to how they had guessed his location. Almost all the faces he had so longed to see were there, a perfect welcome after believing he wouldn't get out of that situation alive.
Until the bubble burst. He didn't have time to enjoy being back with them, the reunion was delayed by a young man he had never seen before. Scratch that, he had already sensed a certain familiarity about the boy before discovering who he really was, a Super Saiyan like himself, with lavender hair and piercing blue eyes.
The boy opened his mouth, and with that, any semblance of peace vanished. Every word felt like a bad joke, another thing from his younger years that had come to bite him in the butt, right after he had escaped another disaster. Any of his friends would argue that this wouldn't happen if Goku stopped making impulsive decisions, but he leaned more towards the idea that people become petty when they're defeated. That's on them.
Among all the surprises, there was one that was simply the icing on the cake. He still couldn't believe it.
Goku was very grateful that Piccolo had passed the message on to the others, because he had forgotten certain details that he knew were important, his thoughts raced through his mind so fast that he could barely distinguish one from another. Home sweet home.
****
"Why are you givin' me this?" he grabbed the folder and turned it over curiously.
Chichi settled into her chair, running her hands several times over her dress before clasping them on the table. She seemed to be having trouble meeting his eyes.
"I can't keep putting this off, it's not fair to you."
He watched her for a few seconds, trying to guess why she was acting so mysterious. "Did I miss something?"
His wife bit her lower lip, "Just... read it."
Anxiety clung to Chichi like a bee to honey, making him hesitate a bit before opening the file. Although, if they were honest, she'd been stressed since his arrival, so it was probably nothing serious. He'd faced terrifying monsters his whole life, he could definitely handle some harmless paperwork.
On the first page, the first thing he saw was the highlighted title: 'Medical Record.'
Oh dear. He didn't feel like looking anymore.
With all the caution in the world, he began to skim through the rest of the documents, feeling puzzled because it said nothing about the fractures from a year ago, as he'd initially thought. Just as he was about to ask her aloud what this was all about, he found a photo, a very blurry and dark one. It took him a while to figure out what it was because he couldn't make out its shape, he'd never seen anything like it. He brought it closer to his face, realizing that the thing looked like an organ.
Then it clicked. It was his brain.
His eyes darted across the results, a strange dread forming in the pit of his stomach, as he strained his mind to grasp the medical terms.
Traumatic brain injury.
Signs of internal bleeding at the time of impact.
Irregularities in the composition of the brain and other organs present.
The patient presents with sequelae ranging from hypersensitivity, syncope, nausea...
An extensive history of generalized tonic-clonic seizures is estimated.
Prescribed medication: XXXXXXXXXX
Final diagnosis: XXXXXXXXXXX
He didn't even know what the last part meant. He stepped back a little and reread it, to make sure he hadn't made a mistake. The poor paper crumpled under the force of his grip, distorting the content that taunted him like a curse in his ear. The words didn't change, the weight of their meaning was palpable in the air, where it was difficult to breathe.
Goku knew it, it was obvious.
And yet.
The walls closed in around him, trapping him in a hurricane of emotions that made him dizzy, it was suffocating him, for not long ago he had received equally grave news, the kind that defined his future. It felt as if the world had tilted slightly, a vertigo striking him without warning, as if the ground had vanished beneath his feet and he were in freefall, only for the first time in years the idea of flying seemed impossible. His chest felt heavy, perhaps from his heart's insistence on escaping his ribs, which terrified him even more.
The warrior knew he was made for a life full of hardships, Vegeta could attest to that. But what kind of fighter was he if something as common as a headache could kill him? Or worse, a virus? What was the point of becoming stronger if he couldn't live long enough to protect his loved ones? For someone many considered a savior, or even their last hope, Goku was a strong will trapped in a weak shell. He held the proof in his hands.
Meanwhile, Chichi didn't dare blink while he was reading, for fear of missing something that might reveal what he was thinking, like waiting for the dam to break. She might have had a vague idea of why the accident and its aftermath were such a sensitive point for her husband, but that didn't mean she understood every single one of his reasons, she still hadn't been able to extract that information from him. Hiding behind a smile was a bad habit he had never been able to stop.
Finally, a soft, unexpected chuckle escaped him.
"Wow, that sounds pretty bad. I guess... that explains a lot," Goku dropped the papers in her direction.
"Wait, this... doesn't bother you?" she asked incredulously.
"I expected it to go away on its own," he shrugged, seemingly indifferent.
It was the truth. After so many years with no signs of improvement, he had no choice but to accept it as a part of himself. He couldn't say this revelation took him completely by surprise, that would be a lie.
"Even so, this changes everything," she gestured to emphasize her point. "It's worse than we imagined. You've been wanderin' around with a broken head. You almost had a stroke!"
"Uh... Oops?"
"Is that all you have to say?" she insisted.
"I don't think it'll help anyway..."
There were no words to describe everything he felt at that moment, none he felt comfortable sharing with anyone. No one would understand anyway. They had more important things to focus on, like the threat Trunks had warned about, which would soon be nipping at their heels with each passing day.
Speaking of which, he was secretly grateful that she had waited until they were alone. If Gohan overheard any of this, he wouldn't know where to hide. The boy had enough on his plate with the androids to be worrying about his father. He knew him too well, obviously, the kid would take it the worst and try to 'fix' things, even though none of this was his fault. For once, Goku didn't think he could convince him to drop the subject. Gohan didn't deserve to carry this burden.
"Listen, I know I haven't been the most... understanding since you came back- it doesn't mean I'm okay with you bringing that brute into our house," she pointed at him with open disapproval. "I don't like him. If he's as good as you think, he'd better prove it‐ nevermind," she stopped herself from going into a rant. "This is about you... So... how are you?"
His leg chose that moment to start bouncing, while he cracked his knuckles to distract himself from the heat rising to the back of his neck. The sound served to divert his attention from something other than her inquisitive gaze, which seemed to be searching for any crack in his expression, anything that would make him unleash the torrent of screams that were building on the tip of his tongue. The lump lodged in his throat prevented him from doing so.
"Can we stop talking about this, yeah?" he shot from the chair, the legs creaking on the floor.
He needed air. Now.
"What—?"
"I won't be long, I promise."
"GOKU!"
Pressing his index and middle fingers to his forehead, he vanished from the dining room, leaving his wife frozen in place.
"For the love of- Seriously?!"
****
Alright, he really didn't take the time to properly analyze the ki of the person who helped him get out of there. He may have unconsciously sought them out because they felt familiar. And boy, were they familiar.
"You son of a- What are you doing here?!"
Goku smiled sheepishly, having surprised Bulma in her lab, though he accidentally interrupted her while she was fixing one of her machines. The screwdriver slipped from her hand and made a 'clank' as it hit the floor, to which he grimaced in response.
"Bad timing?"
"You think so?" she grunted, pushing her strange device aside on the table. "You'd better have a good reason for scaring me like that. The door doesn't bite."
"I... Oh, yeah, about that..." he hesitated, having not even thought of an excuse to be there.
"What is it?" she gave him the side-eye, wanting to verify if this visit meant bad news. They'd had a lot of that lately.
For better or for worse, Goku wasn't one to disappoint.
"I was just passing by, y'know, there's not much to tell," he laughed, absentmindedly scratching his flushed cheek.
Perhaps this was a bad idea, he hadn't meant to bother her while she was busy. The thing was, Goku didn't know where else to go. Unless he tried his luck at Kame House, the guys were surely training, and he could join them. Yes, that appealed to him more.
Bulma, however, didn't seem impressed with his dodge, so she wiped her hands with a towel and leaned her hip back on the desk, giving him her best reproachful look.
"Now that you have my attention, why don't you do us both a favor and spit it out?" sometimes she scared him, because she noticed when something was up too quickly.
"You're not goin' to finish your robot thingy?"
"It can wait. His Royal Majesty will have to learn to control himself if he wants this baby to work again." To demonstrate, she gave it a light tap that made the machine emit black smoke. It was wrecked. "Now drop the act and tell me what happened. It's not like you to beat around the bush."
She had him, damn it. "Well, I... it's a funny story... OK, if I'm honest, I don't quite understand what this all means—"
"Go on, out with it."
It was now or never, and he had already chosen the latter his whole life.
"I think my head is broken- no, I know it's broken, ever since I can remember... I never thought it was this bad though," he confessed before he could chicken out.
Bulma went very still, staring at him, mouth agape like a fish.
"What? Wait, what do you mean by 'this bad'? When were you examined?"
"Not long ago... at the hospital, actually. Chi-Chi showed me what they found," he swallowed uncomfortably, more interested in looking at the cracks in the walls than at her. "It's... It's not good, Bulma."
His friend's lips parted, intending to ease his woes, even just a little, but words failed her. Despite imagining this same scenario over the years, she felt she wasn't ready to see what the situation was doing to him so closely.
After Gohan shared his worries on the spaceship, she had spent many sleepless nights thinking about the best way to approach the subject with Goku, how to be as attentive as possible in case she scared him off, ignoring the logical part of her mind that told her it was pointless, that a head injury wasn't going to heal just because they wanted it to. The promise she made to the boy was what kept her determined not to rule out the possibility, until the appearance of Trunks, whose serious predictions made it take a back seat.
Judging by Goku's evasive behavior and unease, her suspicions were correct. She had never hated being right as much as she did in that moment.
"Well, it was foolish of me to assume the doctors wouldn't notice," she sighed heavily. "What's next? They must have prescribed something for you, if you're in such good shape."
But the warrior was distracted by something else.
"You knew?" he tried hard to keep his tone from sounding harsh.
She furrowed her brows. "Of course. Do you really think the guys would keep something like that to themselves?"
He felt his cheeks burn again, a little indignant that they were talking about him behind his back. "And why would they tell you? It wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I asked them to drop it."
"You clearly forgot who you were talking to."
"It was none of their business," he retorted, his ki wavering as he counted to ten and took a deep breath.
She noticed the change in his posture, the way his eyes hardened and the air grew heavier, full with things left unsaid for years. Even if he had every right to be angry, she wasn't going to be intimidated by someone who, at least to her, was still just a cheeky brat with a big mouth.
"What exactly did you expect them to do? Did dealing with it on your own do you any good? If it had, you wouldn't be here," she had to stand on her tiptoes to be at his level, much to her dismay.
"Hey! I was doing fine!"
"Sure, chasing your own death is considered 'fine' now."
"That's not the point! It's MY problem! I was supposed to tell you, not the others- that wasn't right." Maybe he was getting a little carried away, perhaps he wouldn't have cared so much on any other day.
This wasn't just any day. He had been feeling particularly thin-skinned since that morning. And if he allowed himself a little secret, it was a feeling he'd been carrying around for a long time. His need for a bit of control led him to turn a blind eye whenever his emotions and his ki overlapped, even though there was no immediate threat. The time he spent away from Earth was supposed to bring him back to normal. He feared that the Super Saiyan transformation had something to do with it, that its violent awakening had left his nerves fried, had messed him up so much when he most needed to be at the top of his game.
"What are you talking about? You told me yourself on the phone!" Bulma exclaimed with a scowl.
Goku's thoughts stopped to a halt.
"What?"
"You heard me! That time you called because, I quote, 'something was wrong with your head,' you didn't even give me a chance to see how you were because you HANG UP!" she yelled, poking his chest with a finger.
"I did that?"
"YES! And then you didn't answer any of my calls."
"...It could have been someone else."
"There's no way I wouldn't recognize your voice."
"Look, I-I don't remember any of that, are you sure it happened?" he said nervously, raising a hand to touch his temple.
To be fair, Goku had always been very prone to forgetting stuff, especially if it didn't interest him. For that reason, it was impossible for him to have forgotten about telling his best friend this, even more so without her having to witness it, as was the case for absolutely everyone else who was aware of it. He could never bring himself to tell someone on his own terms. And the one time he had the courage to do it, here they were.
Some parts of her story stirred something within him, but when he tried to retrieve the memory, he found only a blank space, nothing came to mind. The effort caused him a small ache inside, enough to make him feel anxious.
"Well, paying attention isn't your strong suit. There's no denying it was you, it's obvious," she was about to keep going, until she saw the anguish on his face, which surprised her.
It was strange, such a big, muscular guy with his head down and shoulders tense, hunching over himself in order to appear smaller and take up as little space as possible. It didn't suit him, not for such a happy and optimistic person, who filled a room with his mere presence. Having been exposed to him for a large part of her life, he could be suffocating at times, but with how dark the world was, one tended to appreciate the light a little more, sometimes even orbiting around it like moths.
Bulma looked him up and down, and proceeded to take him by the arms. "So you're not pulling my leg? You really have no idea what I'm talking about?"
When they made eye contact, he could barely contain the shame, "Sorry."
He also had no idea why he was apologizing, he just felt an obligation to do so. It must have been difficult to have to keep up with someone with a slower mind than they were used to, it must have been very exhausting. It explained why people tended to lose their temper around him.
"Don't worry, it's not your fault," she waved it off.
The last sentence sparked a flare inside him, immense frustration raging through his throat enough to make him bleed, because there was no one else to blame but himself. There was no need to sugarcoat it for his sake.
"Yes it is! I shouldn't be... like this," he pointed to himself, as if that were proof enough. "If I were normal- things wouldn't have gone so bad in Namek, t-this is 'cause I wasted too much time in that hospital. I was late, again. It's the same in the future, something happens and I'm not there!"
"Wait a minute—"
"—and the worst part is- instead of dying in battle like everyone else, I'll be stuck rotting in a bed- I won't be able to move while the androids kill all our friends!" he said it so fast that when he finished he was panting.
He threw his head back, feeling the extra weight of his conflicting thoughts.
"Look at me, Bulma," he repeated the gesture from before with more force. "I'm not like you, I never was! It was hard to accept that I'm a Saiyan, now you tell me that I don't fit with them either, and it's weird that it bothers me but it does... If I can't win against my own body, it must mean that I'm... weak."
She grabbed his wrists and gave them a reassuring squeeze, searching his eyes so his attention wouldn't stray from her.
"You listen to me Son Goku, this doesn't change who you are. I won't have you calling the man with the biggest heart I've ever known weak, just because his body acts different from the rest of us, not on my watch."
For Bulma, hearing that crap come out of his mouth was like taking a bullet. As if he had conveniently forgotten that he changed the lives of half of his friends for the better, including her. A bad day was not going to take away the times that he saved them from imminent death, the ones when he became the rock that kept them together and hopeful in every bloody battle, that despite his disappearances he did what he could to remedy his absence with a big smile and a sincere apology. She couldn't comprehend that he was ignoring all his good qualities in favor of the bad ones, which weren't a big deal either, she had met more unpleasant people and they were supposedly fine up there. Bulma couldn't under any circumstances let him believe anything he was babbling about, sometimes the mind was the only one with the power to destroy a person from within, to the point that the body was also affected.
"It's not fair," he grumbled, his friend had a brief memory of someone else saying the same phrase. "Why am I like this? How long will it take until it stops me from doing what I love?"
"You got to admit you push yourself too far- you don't know the full extent of it."
"Yeah, I bet there's a lot of things I don't know," was the bitter response. Goku stiffened as he realized his mistake. He prayed inwardly that his friend would let this one pass, but no such luck.
"Care to explain what that means?" of course she caught the accusatory tone.
The warrior shifted from one foot to the other, not quite willing to bring up the one thing which had been bothering him since the fight with Vegeta, what had been so difficult for him to ignore when he was finally alone with his thoughts, which still made him taste copper and salt as he drowned in a sea of red.
The silence was becoming too loud and long-lasting for her liking, something she would have long considered unlikely in his presence.
"Weren't you the one who asked if Gohan did anything strange at night?" he finally deigned to speak, his voice betraying no emotion.
Somehow, that question not at all related to what they were talking about made her nervous. If her memory was correct, it was the day they met the child, she had not been able to help her concern at seeing that the monkey's tail was passed to him, all because—
"Oh, oh shit," her eyes widened in shock, fear spreading in her gut. The difference was that, for once there was no savage beast rampaging through everything in sight, but a confrontation she had hoped they would never have. "It's not what you think, we did plan to tell you—"
"That's a lie," he took a few steps back.
"Before you get ahead of yourself, don't act like it's easy to confess. You were too young—"
"But I grew up. I'm no stranger to death, I don't need to be protected from things like that. I lived it," if she heard the hesitation as he spoke, she didn't show it.
"Well, what would you have done? A kid went and said in front of everyone that a monster murdered his grandfather. Then he almost ate us himself! It was a lot to process!"
"It wasn't up to you to decide whether I could handle the truth or not! That hurts, Bulma!"
Whatever sarcastic comment she was going to throw at him dissipated like evaporated water after that. That agreement had begun for a single purpose, to shield that innocent boy from the heartbreaking reality, to serve as a protective barrier in the face of a tragedy that was completely out of his control, no one but that peculiar group of misfits was going to do it. Their intention had been good, they believed that if he didn't find out it couldn't cause him harm, until it did.
"Okay, okay, god, why is this so hard?" she said pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm sorry. You're right, we were cowards, I shouldn't have waited for you to figure it out on your own."
A flash of something passed through his eyes, so fast that she couldn't identify it. "I wish I could say I guessed it. It makes sense now, it was all right in front of me, but no, it never occurred to me. Thinking hard is not my thing," he chuckled again, though it sounded hollow to both of their ears. "While it was a bit abrupt here, at least I had a preview… I would've appreciated bein' warned that the Super Saiyan brings back memories."
Still consumed in his grief, red had given way to teal, and in the middle of the mountains—sometimes a castle or a ring—he recognized the silver moon in the sky.
Her heart broke for him, for being forced to relive that pain while fighting for his life, it made her wonder what else he saw in the moment of the transformation, and if his stay in Yardrat was enough to ease his mind. It probably calmed the worst of his anger, but what about the rest?
She couldn't begin to understand what it was like to kill a loved one, even by accident, and it was clear that it would take him a while to come to peace with this situation. She didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around him, squeezing a little even though she wasn't sure if he could feel it, she just thought he needed it. When he melted into her embrace and hid his face in her shoulder, hugging her back with the desperation of a starving man, she was certain it was the right move.
"Sorry about earlier, I didn't mean to get mad at you. We're okay, right?" he muttered against the fabric of her shirt.
"I take no offense," she paused a moment. "I doubt it will be easy to get over what happened, but you have to understand that it was an accident. I would never hold a little boy responsible for his origins, and neither should you."
His hands gripped her tighter, practically forcing out the words, "It's harder when you were the one who killed him."
"Your grandfather loved you knowing that you were not from our world, do not think for a second that he regrets having taken care of you."
His figure shook hers in tandem, showing the cracks that his façade could not hide. "Bulma, stop it, please."
She didn't have it in her to force him to say anything more on the subject, or faith that she would succeed if she tried. Of course she wanted to take some of the weight off his shoulders and be his pillar, however she would be totally lost if he crumbled like broken glass, she wouldn't know how to pick up the pieces and put them back together. Perhaps it didn't have be her, it could be that even with their years of friendship and adventure, he had never been able to completely get out of the role of bodyguard, and the blame for that should be put on her.
".... This thing that you're doing, walking away and not talking to us, can't be healthy. It's only going to hurt you."
"Geez, I really run my mouth this time, didn't I?" he pulled his head away from her reluctantly. "Let's just say... it's better this way. I shouldn't have thrown all that at you, my bad."
"Nobody's going to judge you for having issues, it's completely normal," she tried as hard as she could to use an even voice, because she knew that berating him was going to make him retreat even further into his shell.
"That's not it- I just can't, this isn't the time. I don't wanna complicate things any more."
"...Forgive me if I don't follow your thought process."
"......The thing is- if I talk, I'm making it everyone's problem. I'm kind of the reason we're in this situation so... yeah," he said lamely.
Bulma made a slow blink. "I take it back, you are an idiot. But not because of this," she tapped his forehead, "It's because you don't let us help you."
"I'm trying," her deadpan face was very funny in his opinion. "Eh, more or less, I'll be fine by the time this is over."
"You can't lie to save your life."
"If I could, you'd see right through me anyway," the hint of a smile touched his lips, subtle and vulnerable, before he rested his chin on top of her head. Her hair tickled his skin, but not to the point of being unbearable.
"What can I say? Someone has to keep an eye on you, even if you make it impossible."
They both made a sound that resembled a snort, and stayed like that for a few moments, merely noticing the other's chest rise and fall due to their proximity. It was a bit like being tucked in, a cozy and safe feeling, he was almost tempted to close his eyes and sleep, no matter that they were standing still.
Goku would be willing to open up more just to be held like that after the intense talk. Instead, for no other reason than his own amusement, he blew on her ear when she least expected it, earning him a smack on the shoulder that separated them. He couldn't contain the short laugh that bubbled up from his throat, which lifted the gloomy atmosphere a little, even if his heart remained heavy.
"Watch it, squirt. There's still more where those came from," she challenged lightheartedly.
"Noted," he swung his arms at his sides, bouncing a little on his heels. "So... I think I'm good to go."
His best friend regained her serious face. "Think about what I said. If things get too much, you can look for me."
He stopped his attempt at Instant Transmission, offering her one last wistful grin. "See ya, Bulma."
Before his departure, he stared at something over her shoulder, his features forming an unreadable but unsurprised expression. He left before she could question him about it.
"Hmph, you look horribly surprised at this result."
Bulma was going to deny until the day she died the high-pitched screech that escaped her, even her neck protested as she turned her head to look at the bastard, who obviously could be none other than her self-absorbed and petty guest, enemy turned temporary ally, Vegeta.
Oh, how she wanted to put her colorful vocabulary to use against those damn Saiyans and their bad habit of sneaking up on people. At this rate she would be the one who would die of a heart attack.
The man in question stood with his arms crossed at a distance from the earthling, the usual scowl plastered on his masculine face as if her presence had insulted him personally. You had to be very insolent to look at the person who invited you into their house as selflessly as she did, like that. It drove her crazy to enormous levels.
"The concept of not meddling isn't something you guys were taught, am I wrong?" she commented with a twitch of her eyebrow.
"As long as the last of my kind is involved, it is my right to know. Unlike you, I knew right away that he had a screw loose."
"Uh huh, what a great contribution."
"I'm serious here woman," he clicked his tongue in annoyance, "The amnesia gives him away, the clown doesn't even recognize his real name. And don't get me started on his absurd lack of common sense, it's a miracle he's lived this far."
"He lasted twenty-three years to be exact, no thanks to your friend," she reminded him disdainfully.
The prince pretended not to hear her. "It's funny that the blow even took his bloodlust, although it cannot be the only reason... It explains a lot why he's incapable of killing, no wonder if he's defective."
Bulma choked on her own spit and slammed a hand on the table, "You better not let Goku hear you talk like that about him."
He matched her withering glare straight ahead, "Or what? I'm just pointing out the obvious. Kakarot should consider himself lucky that he surpassed the average third class warrior, otherwise he'll be a liability. The ones of his kind were to be immediately executed," he said with apparent coldness, but he hesitated in the rest of the sentence, "...or sent away, in some cases."
After the emotional talk she had just had, Bulma lacked the energy to hear about more Saiyan culture. She had the methods to obtain that information another day. "So Goku is an exception to the rule, whatever, stop. It's dehumanizing."
"Good," he turned and walked nonchalantly, but not before adding a final remark. "By the way, it's an insult that you all tried to hide his nature from him, sooner or later he would have had to deal with that half-breed of his in Oozaru form."
Before he left the room completely, Bulma flipped him off, satisfied that he wasn't looking at her.
****
Despite being miles away, the scrutinizing gaze that Vegeta had placed on him burned him, almost expecting the guy to appear at his side to make him spit out his secrets, undoubtedly valuable information for the next fight they would have. It was a dumb worry, Vegeta wasn't like that, dirty tricks weren't really his style, because even if they weren't sure where his loyalty lay, he still had some sense of honor. Or so Goku liked to think.
Truth be told, it took a lot to hide a ki as powerful and volatile as that, since its wielder hadn't bothered to go unnoticed, which must be why he felt him during the middle of the conversation. He wasn't entirely proud of the way he ran away, but someone with that short temper could only be patient for a certain amount of time, it was necessary before his royal majesty loudly demanded attention. Although most days he didn't mind the playful banter they had, he wasn't in the mood to have a taunt thrown his way. The Saiyan prince could have a very sharp tongue.
Well, it was done. He seriously owed a lot to that dinosaur for being in a desolate part of the forest, it had been an almost imperceptible ki but one that he could hold onto with the right concentration, it served the purpose of delaying his return home. And no, it wasn't that he wanted to avoid confronting Chichi, not at all, he was just asking for some time alone to... clear his mind. He was going to be outside for a couple of hours, it would be good for him to circle the earth with his new speed, or catch a fish for lunch- his mouth was watering just imagining it, it was no wonder he was so exhausted if he hadn't eaten in hours. Or first he could see how Piccolo and Gohan were doing, they had been training for a long time and he hadn't hear a peep from either of them. Yes, that was a plan.
Goku launched himself into the sky, flying leisurely towards that corner of the mountains that he knew was Piccolo's favorite, one of the many where he could meditate in peace and stuff. It was curious that even before this whole arrangement, in one way or another it was as if the Namekian had always remained within arm's reach, waiting, lurking, being that sting in the back of Goku's neck every time he drifted away from Mount Paozu with his wife. It used to bother him in their first year of marriage, it prevented him from relaxing not knowing when the other was going to seek revenge, funny considering that he was the one who had the best "esteem" for him at that time. Until the months passed, he soon had a baby in his arms and yet Piccolo never made any attempt to get closer, he was more like a ghost.
The smart thing to do would have been to not let the Demon King's son grow stronger in times of peace, but curiosity and excitement had gotten the better of him. It was inevitable not to feel a pull towards those who could be on his level, people just as focused on their strength as he was, it was a different kind of kinship that he enjoyed even if it was practically one-sided, unfortunately. One would think that Piccolo had already softened towards him, after having fought side by side for years, he would even call him a close friend. The other man made it clear that wasn't the case, but hell, he was helping him strengthen Gohan, how did the Namekian expect him to see him? Like an enemy? In his opinion, the stage of resentment was already behind them.
A gust of wind destabilized him a bit, causing him to sway in the air for a moment, until he assumed his old position without further problems. Or so he thought.
The fingers of his right hand made a jerking movement, as if they wanted to close but an invisible force pushed them to flex again, which was repeated for half a minute. That was the first sign that something was coming.
"No, no, no, no!" he lamented, holding his wrist in a death grip. He looked at it with contempt to dare it to return to normal, which of course wasn't going to happen.
《Unless....》it was too dangerous, he shouldn't do it, he was running out of options.
With a shaky breath, he channeled his fear into the center of his being, letting the heat of golden energy chase away the beginning of an episode. His hair rose, changing its characteristic color to one that competed with the sun, as his gaze adjusted to the changing landscape, now the hue of turbulent water. His fingers stilled.
"It worked," he stammered in disbelief, blinking dumbly, until a smile almost split his face in half. For the first time in forever, he won.
He flipped backwards in the sky, whooping with joy, and resumed his journey toward his son and his friend, lighter than he had been since he was a child.
"I can't wait to tell everyone!" he laughed jovially, associating the shudder in his limbs with shock. With a little more practice, he could stop the episodes before they started.
He had gone too ahead of himself. Stupidly. Everything seemed normal, if it weren't for the searing pain that shot through his skull, as if it wanted to split open, causing him to lose sight of where he was going. He soon noticed the air passing at high speed past his ears, making a furious sound that resembled a firework before exploding, and instinctively he tried to shield himself in case he collided with a tree, managing to avoid one at the last second. He didn't know why, maybe he moved too abruptly or something got into him by accident, but one of his eyes blurred, causing him to lose concentration on the transformation. And he was falling.
He screamed, out of fear, impulse or pain, it didn't matter. He flailed countless times in altitude as he struggled to regain control, failing to power up as the ground grew closer and the friction was being anything but kind to his skin. On the fourth try, he recognized the telltale feeling of a particularly bad day, he hadn't felt like this in a long time, with that overwhelming tingling throughout his entire body and the inexplicable instinct that everything was wrong, wrong wrongwrongwrongwrongwrong—
He cursed everyone, his brain, his heart, everything that was wrong with him for what they put him through. He wanted to curl up in a ball and die, but seeing that his wish was about to be fulfilled, he was afraid it would come true. He was angry, he wanted to hit someone, lock himself in his house and never come out, let the androids go to hell.
At that point he couldn't see anything out of his right eye, his left very close to following suit. If he went blind because of probably the worst decision he made in his whole life, it was going to be his fault, for not accepting when a battle was lost.
This was going to hurt, he was alone and about to crash- how could he be so stupid—
Goku genuinely thought that everything would end there, that his heartbeat would stop and he would be dragged to death, this time without the opportunity to reverse it, since there was nothing more treacherous than his own body. God, he was an idiot. So much effort to keep him alive, just for him to go down like this.
By signs of fate, he was caught. It was someone strong, who apparently didn't know gentleness very well, and voices jumping from one side to the other. Goku couldn't identify them, they faded before noticing that one of them was young, and panicked.