Age 768
Chi-Chi stared at the two items in her hand, balancing both on her palms.
“Which one, Goku?”
Goku turned, fixing his gaze on the two brands of cereals. “Uhh. Yeah… what’s the difference again?”
“This is cornflakes,” Chi-Chi explained, raising her left palm. “And this is multigrain.”
Goku inspected the items in Chi Chi’s hands, his eyes darting to the half filled basket by her side. His lips relaxed into a smile- the kind of smile that he was used to sporting when Chi-Chi asked him to help her organize Gohan’s homework.
“It’s good for your health right?” Goku asked, his eyes trained on the quivering woman shopping in the next aisle.
“I am not the one who’s going to be eating them,” Chi Chi stated. She was used to this kind of verbal dancing by now. That’s what thirteen years of marriage does to you.
“Well, let’s ask Gohan then,” Goku looked to his side, expecting to find the ten year old there. But Gohan was nowhere to be found. “Where is Gohan, by the way?”
The mirth in Chichi’s eyes retreated by micrometers. Chi-Chi advanced with deliberate poise, shoulders closed and pointed, eyebrows irate and bristling. “You were the one who was supposed to look after him,” she said, lips twisting, her glaring eyes readying fireworks.
Goku recoiled and backed away, smiling sheepishly as he rounded the corner of the aisle. “Right, I will go look for him.”
Goku strolled across the superstore, scanning the names and colorful packaging with great interest. They looked unncessarily elaborate, as though the makers were trying to distract people that they were, in fact, buying food.
For a man who had grown up hunting dinosaurs and fishing sharks, that was an outlandish idea. Food is food. Why the elaborate song and dance ritual for doing something so mundane?
Civilization was a nice thing to have, for the most part. It’s definitely a much better way to find worthy opponents, for one. And most of his friends probably didn’t like living in the wild lands, either. But all these weird rules and conventions never failed to amuse him.
Goku stopped when he spotted a preteen floating by the ice cream fridge, hands planted forlornly on the glass. He broke into a smile, striding towards his son, hand outstretched and reaching for the shoulder. “There you are!”
Wincing, Gohan nodded, descending to the floor with practiced ease. “Sorry about that, dad.”
“For what, the flying or the leaving me behind thing?”
“Both, I guess.”
“You know your mother, son,” Goku ruffled Gohan’s unruly hair, wafting through the hairstrands like shears parting grass. “She worries about you, is all.”
Goku nudged Gohan gently towards the checkout queue, opening the fridge door to survey the buckets of joy that lay within. “Black Forest, right?”
Gohan beamed, nodding vigorously. “Thanks Dad.”
“Go and fetch that trolley, will you?” Goku pointed, signalling towards the chain of yellow that waited beyond the aisle. “Let me get some of these for me as well.”
“Right,” Gohan grinned. “As long as you don’t get diabetes, dad.”
“Yeah. Chi Chi wouldn’t like that, would she?”
They joined Chi Chi near the cash counters. She was in a much better mood, chatting animatedly with two other women in the queue. Goku grinned, hand firmly set on Gohan’s shoulders. The basket dangled, balanced gingerly around Goku’s fingers, swinging to and fro like a pendulum.
“That was fast,” Chi-Chi said, tiptoeing off her toes as Goku stood next to her. She gave him a light peck on his cheek; Goku recriprocated, firmly grabbing her back, temple pressed against temple. “All of that training finally paying off for you, huh?”
“You could just join us today and find out for yourself, Chi-Chi,” Goku said, approaching the cashier, flashing his trademark thousand watt smile. “Everyone is coming over today. It will be pretty great!”
“I don’t know, Goku. I am okay with you and Gohan duking it out in our backyard. But a trip to Roshi’s, at this time of the day?”
“Bulma will be there too, mom,” Gohan said, picking up two shopping bags before joining his parents as they exited the store. “Krillin and Marron too! Plus, you can’t miss out on Yamcha’s hot dogs.”
Chi-Chi frowned. “Not a big fan of junk food, sorry.”
Goku smiled. One (of many) things he liked about Chi-Chi was how particular she was about what food she ate. He didn’t know where she got that quirk from, but it did lead to a lot of random adventures, back when both of them were teenagers.
“Don’t worry about it, Chi-Chi,” Goku said. “You can just hang around too.”
“Nah. Will have to pass on that,” Chi-Chi said, looking towards the sky. “Come on, Flying Nimbus. We are running late for lunch.”
A small yellow cloud peeked through, before speeding towards Chi-Chi, yellowish puffs spurting behind its tail. Chi-Chi jumped onboard and waved at her husband and child.
“You guys stay safe, okay? Please be there by dinner.”
Goku nodded, his smile widening slightly. Chi Chi took off, the Nimbus cloud carrying her swiftly through the skies.
Goku took position, his arms stretched and flexing. He drew energy from within; a white aura flared, flicking into existence, dancing a slow, deliberate dance. It contrasted wildly with the trembling blue fires of Gohan’s own aura.
Goku closed his fists and leapt, the aura bursting as he sped through the skies. Gohan flew beside him, neck to neck, his aura gaining in intensity.
They flew through and over clouds, gaining altitude until they could see space with their bare eyes. Goku grinned and twirled mid air, arms and legs stretched. He closed his eyes and felt the air. The air was hitting against his body with enough energy to swat down dragons. To Goku, it felt like he was being tickled by invisible fingers.
“Father, are we going to make it?”
Goku turned and squinted before recoiling. Gohan was much closer than he had anticipated. The preteen was still keeping pace with Goku, even when the latter was flying at supersonic speeds.
“I don’t know, son. I hope so. We will just have to wait and see.”
“Piccolo’s been very hard on me lately, you know,” Gohan said, worry seeping into his facial movements.
“Why?” Goku asked. There were times he couldn’t get Piccolo. The Namekian kept mostly to himself, and at times, Goku could feel that he was tormented with worries that normally eluded Goku.
“He thinks that the Saiyans are too strong.”
“Ahh! Yeah, they are. They have fought a war for the last twenty five years. I guess you need to be pretty strong to last that long against Frieza.”
“Can we fight them, dad? If they come here?”
“Fight whom? The Saiyans or Frieza?”
“I don’t know. Both?”
“I think that we can give them a good fight. The last couple of years’ training with Kami and King Kai should pay off. But I can’t say for sure. I can only use the Kaioken for so long, son.”
“Will that work against Super Saiyans?”
Goku frowned. There was that term again. Super Saiyans.
“Look, Gohan. It’s not about the technique. It’s about the person that uses it. The best we can do is try our best.
We are fighting for a better cause. Our families, friends and everyone else on Earth could be in danger. We are doing everything we can. You have got to trust that’s going to work out, okay?”
Gohan smiled and nodded.
Goku smiled, but his eyes were focused on the horizon. He didn’t know what would happen if things didn’t work out.
The Saiyans were personally responsible for the destruction of three hundred and forty two planets. His own family had killed thousands of people, if not more. A race of three million, all working towards a singular purpose of death and conquest.
It didn’t matter that the Cold Empire was worse. The universe was suffering, and Goku wanted no part of this war.
If King Vegeta wanted to bring the fight to Earth, then that’s his prerogative. Goku didn’t care how many Super Saiyans Vegeta brought with him. He didn’t spend his entire life training and fighting enemies across galaxies to stand by idly while his home suffered.
The Earth was under his protection, and Goku was itching to see who dared to challenge him on home turf. As much as he despised it, he was a Saiyan, and he loved to fight.
Twenty minutes later, Goku and Gohan landed on Master Roshi’s island. To Goku’s surprise, everyone was gathered around the house. Goku reckoned that he was still twenty minutes early.
“Hey guys, is there any problem?” Goku asked, placing a hand on Tien’s shoulder.
Tien turned and nodded. His creased temple suggested something bad was going down.
“We have unexpected guests, Goku,” Tien said. “You should see it for yourself.”
Goku nodded, jaw set and unmoving. He strode into the house, already expecting the worst. There were four Ki signatures in the house, and two of them were higher than the others by a country mile.
Gine rose when Goku opened the door, putting down her cup of tea on the table. Bulma nodded at Goku, relief pouring into face as her jaw slackened. Krillin came towards Goku, his face apologetic.
“Sorry for that, buddy. It’s not like we had much of a choice.”
Goku smiled, but the mirth wasn’t there. It was replaced with cold fury, calm and collected like steel. Raditz straightened and approached Goku, offering a hand. Goku wondered if he should shake or crush that hand. He remembered their fight, and it wasn’t a memory that had aged well in the last five years.
Goku took Raditz’s hand, his grip firm and stable. He shook it twice and let go. That was the most direct contact he cared to have with a mass murderer.
“Son, I am happy you are here,” Gine said. “We need to talk.”
Goku took one look at the room, and then at the people standing outside. He signaled Piccolo and Tien to come inside.
“Go ahead. I am listening.”
This is a Shared Universe, multi-chapter story that will be updated periodically.