The morning sun had only just crested the treetops, bathing the Son family's small mountain home in a soft, golden light. The air was clear, the kind that smelled faintly of dew and wood smoke, and the gentle rustle of the forest carried through the open windows.
Chi-Chi stood by the kitchen counter, carefully packing food into a wooden lunch box. The rice steamed gently, the vegetables neatly arranged beside slices of grilled fish. Every piece was placed with care, neat, balanced, tidy, the way her father had taught her years ago.
Outside, the forest whispered. She could hear the faint rush of wind through the leaves, the distant chatter of birds waking to the day. Somewhere out there, hidden beyond the trees, her husband and son were training again. She couldn't see them, couldn't hear them, but she knew. She could always tell.
Goku had that same energy about him, even after all these years, impossible to ignore, warm and bright, like sunlight that never dimmed. When he and Gohan trained, the world seemed to hum differently. Even the quiet felt lighter somehow.
She smiled faintly at the thought, tightening the lid on the box. Today was a special day. Goku had been talking about it all week, about visiting Master Roshi and the others. Five years, that's how long it had been since they'd all seen one another, well, besides Krillin. Five years since the wedding, since the tournaments and the fights and all that wildness that had once filled their lives.
He'd been so excited last night that he could barely sit still. And she'd smiled, despite herself, because that excitement was impossible not to share.
She wiped her hands on her apron and glanced toward the window. The forest rolled away beneath her, green and endless. The trees shifted like a slow wave under the morning breeze. She tried to spot movement, a flash of orange, the shape of her husband, or the tiny form of her son, but there was nothing. Just the woods, stretching into the distance.
It had taken her time to get used to letting Gohan train. Even after she'd agreed, the sight of him running through the door at the end of the day, scuffed knees and dirt on his face, had sent her heart racing. The first time she'd noticed a thin cut along his arm, she'd nearly marched straight outside to put an end to it.
Goku had called it "survival training." Said it was what his Grandpa Gohan had taught him. And that made her pause.
She remembered her father's stories about Grandpa Gohan, the old martial artist who had raised Goku, the man her father had once called "brother" under Master Roshi's teaching. She knew what "survival training" meant. Long runs through the mountains, carrying heavy loads, sleeping under the stars, finding your own food. Training your body and your spirit until they match.
She'd done a version of it herself, back when her father had still been young enough to teach. And she'd hated it. The blisters, the exhaustion, the constant bruises. It had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, and that was with her father watching her every step.
So when she saw those marks on Gohan, the mother in her had flared instantly, the instinct to protect, to pull him close, to tell Goku it was over. But then she'd seen Gohan's face. The smile he wore when he talked about training, the way his eyes lit up when he mentioned his dad.
That look had stopped her.
There was something different about her son now, not just stronger, but freer. More confident. He used to hold himself small, quiet and shy. Now there was a spark there, gentle but certain. And Goku too, he'd changed in small, quiet ways. He still laughed, still smiled that same careless grin, but there was a calm in him that hadn't been there before. He'd always been full of life, but now that life had direction.
And somehow, their home felt different because of it.
It wasn't anything she could touch or name, but it was there, in the air, in the sound of Gohan's laughter when he came running through the door, in the way Goku's voice carried a little softer when he talked to her now. Something had shifted. It was like a missing piece had quietly clicked into place, and though she hadn't noticed it was gone before, she couldn't imagine the house without it now.
She set the last box aside and tied it carefully with a strip of red cloth. Then she stepped to the open doorway, wiping her hands on her apron once more. The forest spread out before her, sunlight glittering on the leaves.
For a long moment, she just stood there, breathing it in.
Her thoughts drifted back to Goku's face the night before, his excitement almost childlike as he packed the travel bag. She could still hear him saying, "Master Roshi's gonna laugh when he sees Gohan! Bet Krillin won't believe it either!" He'd looked so happy, and for the first time in a long while, she'd felt that same happiness without the shadow of fear behind it.
Maybe that's what the difference was. Maybe that was what had changed; the weight she'd been carrying since the day she married him had started to ease. The worry hadn't vanished, but it didn't rule her anymore.
She smiled to herself, resting a hand on the doorframe.
"Goku! Gohan!" She called out into the morning air.
Her voice carried across the clearing, echoing faintly through the trees before fading into the wind. No answer came right away, but she knew they'd heard. Somewhere out there, her husband would grin, tell their son to wrap up their training, and they'd come running back, bright-eyed and hungry.
Chi-Chi lingered there a moment longer, the sound of the forest surrounding her, before turning back to the table to finish off the last bits for lunch.
It was going to be a long trip, and though she wouldn't admit it out loud, she was almost looking forward to seeing them off.
-X-
"Keep those hands up, Gohan! Don't let me catch you slackin'!"
Goku stepped lightly through the clearing, grinning as he brushed aside his son's latest punch. Gohan came at him with surprising determination, eyes narrowed, cheeks flushed. His movements were still small, still clumsy in spots, but every strike carried more confidence than the one before.
"That's it! Good! Now don't stop movin'!" Goku said, easily catching the next blow with his palm and redirecting it harmlessly to the side.
Gohan stumbled a little but steadied himself, bouncing back on his feet. "I'll get you this time, Dad!"
Goku laughed, dodging a quick jab. "That's the spirit!"
The morning sun filtered through the trees, dappling the grass beneath them with gold and shadow. The air was fresh, the scent of pine strong after last night's rain. Birds chattered somewhere up high, unfazed by the thump of footsteps below.
As Gohan came at him again, Goku found his mind wandering. It happened a lot during training. His body moved on its own, muscle memory, instinct, leaving plenty of space for his thoughts to drift.
He still couldn't quite believe how far Gohan had come. When they'd first started, the kid could barely throw a punch without closing his eyes. Everything about sparring had scared him: the noise, the pressure, even the idea of hitting someone. Goku hadn't pushed him. Not at first. He just wanted his son to feel comfortable, to find his rhythm.
And he had, though not right away.
That survival training had been the real turning point.
Goku blocked another swing and stepped aside, watching Gohan reset before continuing. He smiled faintly.Yeah, that had been something.
It wasn't his brightest idea, even he could admit that now. Dropping Gohan off deep in the woods for a week sounded fine in theory. After all, Grandpa Gohan had done the same to him once, and it had worked out great. At least, he was pretty sure it had. He couldn't remember all the details anymore, just that he'd been hungry a lot, and he'd gotten really good at climbing trees.
He'd figured it would teach Gohan the same lessons. How to look after himself, how to rely on his instincts. You couldn't learn that stuff from a book. You had toliveit.
He hadn't expected Gohan to cry so much, though. The first few nights had been tough for both of them. Goku had stayed close, hidden among the trees, keeping watch while Gohan tried to make camp or find food. He'd felt bad, sure, but he also knew his son had to push through it.
And he had. By the fourth day, Gohan wasn't crying anymore. He'd stopped being scared of the noises in the dark, started finding food on his own, and even made a little shelter out of branches and leaves. Goku had been so proud he'd nearly ruined the whole thing by jumping out to congratulate him.
When he finally did show up at the end of the week, Gohan's grin had stretched from ear to ear. The kid had run to him, holding a basket of wild fruit like it was treasure. Goku hadn't said it then, but that moment had told him everything he needed to know. Gohan had it in him, that same stubborn spark that wouldn't quit, no matter what.
He still laughed sometimes, thinking about what came after, though.
Chi-Chi had beenfurious. He'd barely made it through the front door before she'd started yelling. He'd tried explaining it was training, just like Grandpa Gohan used to do, but that only made her angrier. She'd nearly put an end to the whole thing right there and then.
But Gohan had surprised them both. He'd stepped in, all teary-eyed but determined, begging her not to stop the training. Said he liked it, said he wanted to keep learning. Goku had been half expecting Chi-Chi to shut it down anyway, but when Gohan promised to do all his studying first, she had stopped yelling.
And true to his word, Gohan had followed through. He'd finished his work quicker than Goku thought possible, probably quicker thanhe'dever done anything, truth be told. That had earned him more training time, and from there, things just took off.
Goku smiled, blocking another punch. "Nice one, Gohan! You're really puttin' your back into it now!"
"Really?" Gohan said breathlessly, pausing to push his hair out of his eyes.
"Really. You've come a long way since we started."
Gohan grinned, then came at him again. His punches were still small, still light, but the rhythm was sharper now. He moved with purpose, not hesitation.
Goku met every strike with an easy motion, a block, a parry, a sidestep. He wasn't thinking about power or potential anymore. He didn't need to. Watching Gohan try this hard was enough.
"Alright!" Goku called out, raising his hands in mock defence. "Let's see if you can land one this time!"
Gohan's eyes lit up. "Okay!"
He charged again, fists flying, and Goku's laughter filled the forest, mingling with his son's determination and the sound of wind through the trees.
Their training carried on, the morning light shifting overhead, the rhythm of it steady and alive.
Gohan's fist brushed against Goku's arm, a real hit this time, light but fast.
"Ha!" Goku laughed, twisting his wrist to redirect the next blow. "That's more like it!"
Gohan didn't stop. He charged again, dirt flying beneath his feet, his small body moving with sudden rhythm. Each punch came quicker, each step surer than before. His breathing was steady now, not laboured or hesitant. There was focus in his eyes, a quiet determination that made Goku's grin widen.
"That's it! Keep going!" He shouted, stepping back as Gohan lunged again.
The boy's strikes were sharper now, precise, not wild. Goku blocked each one with ease, but he could feel it. There was power behind them. More than there should've been.
He shifted his stance slightly, the air stirring as he caught the next blow and redirected it past him. Gohan stumbled but didn't fall; he spun around, fists already rising for another go.
"Good recovery!" Goku said, laughing as his son charged again. "You're really getting the hang of this!"
The next strike came faster. Then another.
Goku blocked without thinking, grinning wider as each hit grew stronger. His arms tingled faintly with the force of it. Gohan's small hands struck with speed and weight that didn't belong to a child.
And just like that, the rhythm changed.
Goku wasn't watching a shy four-year-old anymore. He was watching a fighter.
He ducked under a kick, felt the wind cut across his cheek, and something inside him stirred, that familiar rush that came whenever he met someone strong. His heart beat faster. His eyes narrowed. For the first time in years, he felt his pulse match another's rhythm.
He couldn't help it, he was excited.
The last time he'd felt this alive had been nearly a year ago, facing Garlic Jr. That same raw energy filled the air now, buzzing around them like static. And Gohan, Gohan was only four. Four years old, and already fighting like this.
Incredible,Goku thought, blocking a flurry of quick punches.At this age, I couldn't even do half of this. He's faster. Stronger. More focused. It's like that power from before, it's still in there, just waiting.
He couldn't hold back his grin. "Not bad, Gohan! You're really keepin' me on my toes!"
Gohan didn't answer. His jaw was set, his eyes locked on his dad, and for a moment, his movements carried something beyond awareness, pure instinct. His strikes flowed together, one after another, faster than before.
"Whoa-ho! Look at you go!" Goku laughed, excitement rising in his chest. He matched Gohan's rhythm, feet sliding across the grass as he parried each hit. His body moved faster, not out of necessity but thrill. The old itch of battle crept into his muscles, urging him to meet his son's pace fully.
He felt the boy's energy flicker and rise, small bursts of ki, raw and unshaped, flaring with each motion. It wasn't controlled, but it was real. It brushed against Goku's senses like a faint hum. As the punches grew stronger and faster to the point they almost appeared like a blur to Goku's own eyes.
And in that moment, he forgot himself.
Gohan's next strike came fast, faster than any before, a wild overreach born of excitement. Goku saw the opening instantly, and before his mind caught up, his body moved on instinct.
He stepped in. Pivoted. His leg shot forward in a clean, defensive kick, the kind meant to counter a charging opponent.
It connected with a dullthump.
Gohan's small body lifted off the ground and hit the grass with a sharp gasp, air rushing from his lungs. The sound cut through the clearing like a snapped string.
Everything stopped.
Goku froze, his foot still half-raised, eyes wide. The rush of energy drained from him in an instant, replaced by cold shock.
"Gohan!"
He dropped to his knees beside his son, hands already moving to help him sit up. "Hey, hey, you okay, buddy?!"
Gohan coughed once, clutching his stomach, his little face scrunched in surprise more than pain.
"I— I'm okay…" he managed weakly, blinking up at his dad.
Goku's heart was still pounding, but for a different reason now. "Oh man, I'm sorry. That was, I didn't mean to, I just," He stopped himself, exhaling hard before grinning and chuckling nervously. "Guess I got a bit carried away."
Gohan shook his head quickly, still catching his breath. "It's okay, Dad. I shouldn't have rushed in."
Goku blinked, a little thrown by how calm he sounded. Then he laughed softly, shaking his head. "Heh. You sound just like your mum."
That got a small laugh out of Gohan, which eased the tension in Goku's chest. He smiled again, softer now, the excitement fading into something gentler.
"You really are somethin' else, kiddo," he said quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I knew you were strong, but… wow. You're not just strong. You're special."
Gohan smiled weakly at that. "You think so?"
"I know so," Goku said, helping him stand. "You've got power in you I can't even figure out. I didn't have anything like it when I was your age. Heck, I don't think I had it when I fought King Piccolo."
"Who's that?" Gohan asked, curious.
Goku chuckled, brushing the dirt from his son's shirt. "Ah, that's a story for another day. Right now, I think we'd better get you cleaned up before your mum sees that dirt on your face."
Gohan's eyes widened. "She'll be mad, won't she?"
"Probably," Goku said with a grin. "So let's move fast."
He laughed again, but just as he turned to head back toward the house, a faint voice carried through the forest, warm, familiar, and very, very clear.
"Goku! Gohan!"
Chi-Chi's call echoed through the trees, soft at first, then again, louder.
Both of them froze. Goku glanced down at his son, who was already looking up at him with wide eyes.
Goku chuckled nervously. "Heh… well, guess we don't have much time."
Gohan nodded quickly, brushing himself off. "Let's go, Dad!"
"Yeah," Goku said, smiling as they started toward the sound of her voice. "Let's go."
The forest was quiet again for a moment after they moved, sunlight falling across the grass where they'd been. The echo of Chi-Chi's voice lingered in the air, mingling with the faint sound of their footsteps fading toward home.