"I'm back, Grandpa."
Son Goku shouted from the threshold, fish in hand. The poor river creature flapped around with its tail, and fighted against the boy's grasp.
"So you are."
Gohan was his Grandpa. The man was short and robust. A well kept, white as Mount Paozu's winter snow, mustache underneath his old nose.
"That they did." Goku reached for the nearby mallet and knocked the fish out.
"I'll go start the fire."
Left alone Goku dropped on the bamboo chair, his arms propped against the table. Shadows began to escape towards one side of the small kitchen, the result of the sun's never-ending conquest to vanquish the night.
"It's been eight years since I came here."
Rebirth, transmigration or maybe fate that loved its twists and turns. Nevertheless, William Hall went by the name Son Goku.
His first memory of this world was of tubes and medicine and then warmth. Months went by and he started sensing more of his surroundings. One day, two figures looked upon him from behind a small round window. Giants with black messy hair. Their smiles seemed a little forced, but their eyes were loving. William recognized them, Bardock and Gine.
Time throttled foward from that day: check ups and viewings, eating and shut eyes in between. Then the day he feared came. The last good bye.
He, almost three years old, was bound in Gine's arms, her breath was sweet, it smelled of fresh citrus, the ones they bought the day before. Her fast steps ended before a big metalic ball, it was a space pod. Bardock was there, cables twisted and crushed in his fists.
"They'll never find him."
That gaze; calm, decisive and overflowing with love. Wiliam could feel tears, gathered at the corners of his eyes, balanced at the tips of his eyelashes. But he couldn't fail them, he had to show them the resolve their sacrifice deserved.
A small fist, placed next to his heart. A simple nod, a small grunt and unwavering smile. That was all he could do, all that he could give back.
"We love you, son." Bardock saluted back, fist on his chestplate.
"Let the almighty Oozaru clear your path. Be strong, be proud; survive my child."
As the door closed, William - no, Kakkarot - felt heavy, the sight of his parents, behind a single plane of glass, blacked out.
"Goku, the fire is ready."
The looming shadows of the past had to wait. Although William took Gohan as his grandfather, took both his love and name, he always remembered the promise. The last thoughts long before he escaped the inevitable destruction of Planet Vegeta. He would bring them back.
"So what's on the agenda today?"
The flames sizzled, emboldened by the drops of fat from the browned fish.
"We relax. You've trained my old bones sore."
Unlimited training hours were one of the many perks of being the grandson of a martial artist. Last year Gohan made him wear a purple hundred pound turtle shell. When questioned, the old man pivoted, not eager to spill where he got it from.
"When will I meet your master?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"If I show you the name written on the inside of the shell, will it change your mind?"
Making the old man sweat was one of his good pastimes. Entertainment was hard to get in the middle of a mountain range. Mount Paozu, the tallest stack of pebbles and granite in this hemisphere, wasn't Internet friendly. Not that it mattered. Gohan loved his hermit lifestyle, a big fault in Goku's mind.
"Why are you hiding it so much? There's nothing to be ashamed of."
The blush on his grandfather's face said otherwise. The old man, on rare occasions, spoke about one subject, his fellow brother in arms, Ox King. Once in a while he'd share a story from his past. The days where martial arts were more than just a hobby. Days of thundering punches, bone crushing kicks and taking names all trickled down to nighttime stories. Stories which made Goku's blood boil.
"He's...different."
Pervy old coot was what he meant to say. Goku sniggered and placed a piece of fish on his rice.
"What's that clickety clackity noise?" asked Gohan.
They saw a cloud of dust rising on the horizon. Something was moving fast on the dirt road.
"Maybe it's your master coming for a social visit."
"Unlikely. Unless he got himself a blue wig."
Goku narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the window of the incoming car; a blue ponytail and a young girl's face. The girl hesitated before taking a turn towards them.
"Hello. Are you from these parts."
If there was a pointless question then she had found one. Goku saw her blush as the realization clobbered her confidence away.
"I'm actually from space. Greetings earthling. Do you want the whole package?"
"What do you mean?"
"You know. The tour of the Milky Way before I probe-"
"I'm so sorry for my grandson. How can we help you, Miss?"
Gohan kept Goku's mouth shut. The regret of not teaching the little space monkey some manners surfaced as a small twitching and pulsing vein on his forehead.
"I'm Bulma. I'm looking for something."
"Do tell. A young lass seeking truth in the rural mountains is admirable, but a bit reckless."
"I'm already sixteen. I can handle dangers." She took out a pistol and twirled it around her finger. Unfortunately it slipped out and fell in front of Goku's feet.
"..."
"..."
"..."
Goku picked up the weapon, checked the safety and returned it to Bulma's hands.
"I'm no adult, but I think you need one."
"I must agree." Gohan said.
"Maybe we should start from the beginning." He had to give it to her, she regained her composure fast. "My name's Bulma and I'm looking for Dragon Balls."
She took out two yellowish orbs, each contained a different number of orange stars within them.
"Look Grandpa, that's just like the four-star ball you have."
"It's quite the occasion, to see three in a lifetime."
"So you do have it. May I borrow it, please? I want to make a wish."
"I shall reserve my judgement until I hear your request."
"Hopefully, It's not for something crude like wishing for a boyfriend. A girl should never stoop so low" said Goku.
Knowing bits of the story made life easier. Sometimes it motivated you to push further, while at times it gave you an edge at guessing people. Bulma sat down on her knees, red and exhausted. Gohan gaped while Goku chuckled on the side, puffs of air escaped his nose.
"Boys love humor, so you're already set on finding one."
"What do you know? You're a child."
"I did guess your desires, haven't I? And this child can crush boulders with a fist."
"A likely story."
Goku took a small rock from the fire place and grinded it down between his palms.
"If you ever need sand, I'm your man."
"I think that'll be enough." said Gohan. "How about we offer you some tea? It must have been a long journey."
"I'll take up that offer." Bulma rolled and examined the small leftover pebble within her fingers. She couldn't make a dent in it.
When they entered Bulma ran up to the small shrine within the shack. Gohan's Dragon Ball sat on a red pillow. It was flashing because of the close vicinity of its brothers and sisters.
"It's really here." Bulma rubbed her cheek on the ball.
"Mine." Goku took it and sat next to his Grandpa.
"Okay, what do you want for it? Riches?"
"I'm content with my life. There's nothing you could offer me." said Gohan.
"But I need that Dragon Ball. Are you sure you won't consider?" She grabbed the hem of her skirt.
"If showing your panties worked then why not flash a mob of thirsty teenagers?"
"I want true love, a man that'll make me swoon and we'll cuddle, talk sweet nothings-"
"Young Bulma, you're sixteen, correct?"
"Yes. Sixteen and ready for my shining prince."
"I understand. But is it true love you're really after?"
"Of course it is. That's the point of my journey."
"But is wishing for a perfect man truly what you desire?"
"I don't understand what're you asking."
"Love isn't perfect. And the journey to learn about each other is the bind that keeps the relationship whole." said Goku.
"Is he really a child?" Bulma pointed at Goku.
"Yes, but I taught him well."
Goku huffed, the old man had it easy.
"So you're a city girl? How's the life over there." Goku asked.
"Normal, I guess. Not as calm as this."
Earth had more to offer then Planet Vegeta. His parents seldom had the chance to take him on tours. The Frieza force worked its footsoldiers to the bone, the marrow sucked by corporate. But he saw some sights. The red pine-like trees standing askew, plotted in an ocean of yellowish green grass encased in sulphuric air. Turbulant winds, the grey streaking clouds, a symphony which made it his home.
"I have an idea," Goku scratched his cheek, not sure if Gohan would agree, "Since this Dragon Ball is going nowhere, at least for now. How about you take me on your trip?"
"What's in it for you?"
"I'd like to see the world. Experience what Earth has to offer. And we'll kill two birds with one stone. I'll be your bodyguard, a chaperone, and you'll provide me with entertainment."
"I don't need a chaperone."
"Your helpless pursuit of love says otherwise."
She took a deep breathe, loosened her red scarf. The gears were turning in her mind, the same could be said about Gohan.
"Why the sudden change? You were excited for our next phase of training?"
"You said it best. I'm too strong for you to handle. We barely took any breaks."
Saiyan physiology made resting redundant. The more you pushed the body to the limits, the more you got in return. Goku enjoyed the occasional holiday, because constant breeching of your limits drained him mentally. And it was too monotone to engage as a lifestyle. A hermit he was not.
"And I want to leave on a journey, like you did. To find friends and began my story, so I could one day share them with people I care."
Gohan laught. "Enough with the eyes, you rascal." He then turned to Bulma. "Let's make an agreement. I'll keep this Dragon Ball with me. When you both return from your journey, I'll hear you out once more. Is that a deal?"
"I suppose I don't have any choice."
Throughout the years Goku didn't acquire many things. Two changes of clothing, bathroom essentials and a journal, containing his progress, were put in a cloth bag.
"Before you leave, take this."
A staff and its scabbard, tinted red like the red ironwood tree. He knew what it was, the Power Pole. A staff of length- changing properties. It was as old as the position of Kami itself.
"You should've gave me some string as well, Grandpa."
"Hush you. This will come in handy. And no beating up civilians."
"Okay." Goku stuck his tongue out.
"I'm ready if you are."
Bulma was behind the wheel, honking.
"I'm going to miss you."
Farewells, even if short come with a price. Less moments spent together. Would it be the last time? But he had to loosen his grip.
"Don't worry about me." Gohan closed the car's door, after Goku boarded and fastened his seatbelt. "Take care of him. He's a good child."
The car started, puffs of smoke left the exhaust. The small shack, memories and waving Gohan became but small reflections in the rear mirror, waning with every shrill of the blarring engine.
"Come on. It's not like you can't contact him. He even gave me his number." She took out a note, eight digits written with a brush, from the glove compartment.
"That lying bastard."