With a sharp flick of the wrist, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a capsule.
"— Let's see how funny you are now."
CLICK.
The capsule burst open in a flash of blinding light.
Seconds later, the glow faded, revealing the same weapon she used against the rabbit bandits.
Bulma gripped it tight, eyes locked on the boy. She knew this wasn't just another roadside weirdo. But it didn't matter.
He might be strong, but this should hold him back.
Even as she told herself that, a small voice in her head was screaming: Do you even know what you're dealing with?
She pulled the trigger.
POW. POW. POW.
Goo-filled projectiles tore through the air with speed and precision, hissing like vengeful darts.
But…
He dodged.
Not with flashy flips or dramatic lunges. He just… shifted. Lazily. Like swatting away flies.
Each effortless dodge hit Bulma's ego harder than any return shot could've.
His movements were too smooth. Like a dance only he knew.
"— Ooooh? What are those supposed to be?"
His voice finally broke the silence. Calm. Detached. Almost cruel in how little he cared.
It said one thing, loud and clear: You're no threat.
Bulma squeezed the trigger again. More shots filled the air—none even close to hitting.
Before she could even think of another plan, the boy moved.
"— Okay, my turn."
He reached behind his back and pulled out a staff.
A simple red stick. No markings, no gimmicks. Just… a stick.
"— Power Pole! Expand!"
The words cracked through the air like a command from a general.
And the staff—changed.
It grew. Fast.
What the hell?!
The thing extended far beyond logic or physics.
Bulma couldn't react in time.
CRACK!
A single clean strike hit her weapon dead-on, knocking it from her hands. It clattered to the ground, echoing against the empty road.
(…)
(…..)
"— Okay, okay! I surrender!"
Her voice snapped through the air—weak, panicked.
She raised her hands, surrendering.
"— It was an accident! I… I hit you with my car, but I didn't mean to!"
The boy just stood there.
He stared at her with an unreadable expression—a weird blend of curiosity and boredom.
His silence was more terrifying than any threat. It drained her courage second by second.
He's not gonna stop, is he? He's really gonna kill me. Please, Kami-sama, save me…
Time stretched. Each second pulled tighter like a rubber band ready to snap.
(…)
"— ...Car?"
The word left his lips slowly, confused. Not angry—just… puzzled.
"— What's that?"
Bulma blinked. Had she heard that right?
"— You… don't know what a car is?"
He shook his head, almost sheepish.
"— Is it food?"
Bulma's jaw dropped. The words slipped out before she could stop herself.
Food?! How does someone not know what a car is?!
"— No, no—it's a vehicle. You drive it. You use it to get from place to place."
She tried to explain, but her voice cracked under the weight of the moment.
The boy looked at her like she was speaking another language.
No comprehension. Just wide-eyed confusion.
"— Hmm… so it's like… a monster with wheels?"
"— It's not a monster."
"— So… like a metal horse? It just moves? Doesn't do anything else?"
He tilted his head, genuinely trying to understand. Then shrugged like it wasn't worth the mental effort.
"— Whatever. If you weren't trying to rob me, I guess I'll head out."
Before Bulma could say another word, he turned and started walking away, like this whole situation was nothing but a weird pit stop in his day.
(…)
(...….)
(...…)
"— W-Wait!"
The word jumped from her throat without warning, full of desperation.
Something about this kid was wrong. And not in a way she could just ignore.
He stopped. Slowly turned back to her.
His eyes were wide and open—disarming in their innocence.
There was no anger. No threat. Just… a kid trying to figure out the world.
"— What?"
"— You… what are you? I mean, who ARE you?"
He smiled, like the answer was the simplest thing in the world.
"— I'm Son Goku!"
He said it so plainly, like it was all she needed to know.
"— Son… Goku?"
She repeated it, the name foreign on her tongue.
She frowned, trying to make sense of it all.
"— And where exactly are you from?"
"— Me? I live nearby."
"— You're not from, like… another planet or something?"
Goku scratched his head, the motion so innocent it clashed violently with the sheer strength he'd shown seconds ago.
"— Another planet? What's a planet?"
Bulma's patience was wearing thin.
She took a deep breath, trying to reset her thoughts. The direct approach wasn't working.
Okay, forget that for now.
She waved wildly at the chaos around them — the wrecked car, the giant fish still lying across the road.
"— How can you do... all of this? You literally threw my car into the air like it was nothing, that's not normal! How is that even possible?!"
The boy looked at her, with his big eyes blank.
"— Oh, that? I'm just strong."
Just strong? Sure.
Bulma felt like the kid was mocking her. His answers made no sense, and he didn't even try to explain in a way she could understand.
But before she could press him again, the boy lazily swished his monkey tail, like he was bored with the whole conversation.
"— If you didn't want my food, then it doesn't matter, right?"
Oh, it matters! You destroyed my car!
This kid… he was an absolute mystery. Worse — he seemed completely unaware of the chaos he'd just caused.
He has no idea what he's done. No concept of right or wrong. How does someone like this even exist?
And while the boy watched her calmly, Bulma realized she had way more questions than answers.
He gave a peaceful smile — so calm, so completely disconnected from the madness around them, it almost felt like an insult.
"— My master taught me how to fight. If you train, you can get really strong. You just have to try harder."
"— So you're telling me that I could…" — she paused, pointing incredulously at the crumpled car behind her.
"— …throw cars around like that if I just… trained?"
"— Yep!"
Bulma closed her eyes, breathing deeply.
Okay. Breathe. You're a scientist. Breathe. The world has rules. Force, mass, acceleration. Nothing he's saying makes any sense, obviously.
"— Right… so you train, get ridiculously strong, and you've never... I don't know, wondered how any of that works?"
"— Nope. I just like training, fighting… and eating!"
"— Of course you do…" — Bulma muttered, feeling like she was losing an argument that shouldn't even be happening.
Before she could regain control of the conversation, Goku tilted his head again, a spark of honest curiosity flashing in his eyes.
"— Hey…"
(...)
"— What?"
(...)
"— Are you a girl?"
(...Excuse me?)
Bulma's voice shot up so high she barely recognized herself.
"— Are you serious? Oh… I get it. You're messing with me."
"— I've never seen a girl before—"
"— I'M A WOMAN, OKAY?"
She tried to sound firm, but the shock and outrage turned her words into a frantic outburst.
"— But how… how have you never seen someone of the opposite sex?!"
Goku scratched his chin, thoughtful.
"— My master just said girls were different. But I'd never seen one before."
Bulma stared at him, the emptiness in his expression draining what little patience she had left.
This is… this is ridiculous.
Before she could keep going, a loud sound interrupted her. It didn't come from nature or machines — it came from the boy in front of her.
Goku's stomach rumbled like a waking beast, echoing across the empty road.
Bulma stood frozen, his words still swirling in her head like an unsolvable puzzle.
"— I think I've talked enough. Time to eat."
Am I talking to a wild animal? Or is this some undiscovered human subspecies? Maybe… a surviving Neanderthal? Is he even human? The possibilities are insane.
She stared at him like she was facing a scientific anomaly.
Goku, unaware of Bulma's mental spiral, beamed.
"— Want to eat the fish with me? My master always said it's good to be nice to girls."
"— You want me to eat… that?"
Goku nodded, all childish excitement.
This is exactly the kind of thing Blouse would jump into without thinking… but me? No way.
Bulma looked at the massive fish on the ground.
Then again, it looks just as weird as everything else Blouse told me. Could this be a clue? No… maybe I'm reaching… Or maybe I'm not. Ugh, who cares? I've been using common sense for days and found nothing. Maybe, just maybe, a little madness will get me further than logic ever did.
Bulma finally gave in, shaking her head.
"— Fine… I'll go with you. But I am not eating that disgusting fish, no way!"
I just want to see how far this insanity goes — and maybe learn more about this kid.
Goku's smile lit up his face, like she'd just accepted the best invitation ever.
Without wasting a second, he started walking toward his home, his steps light and confident like he knew exactly where he was going.
♦♦♦
The path to Goku's house felt more like a journey between worlds than a simple walk.
The asphalt road quickly gave way to a dirt trail, flanked by dry fields and endless hills.
It was like Bulma was leaving behind not just civilization, but reality itself.
When Goku's house finally appeared in the distance, it felt like she'd crossed some kind of threshold.
The building was so simple it bordered on primitive — a small home with an Eastern-style blue roof, surrounded by untouched nature. No tech. No comfort. Just the wild.
For someone raised in the luxury and polish of Capsule Corp, it looked like something out of a legend.
As soon as she stepped in, the smell of old wood and spices filled her nose.
The soft light coming through the dusty windows cast dancing shadows on the walls, as if the space itself were alive, breathing around her.
Bulma felt a creeping unease, like being in a dream that was too real to ignore, but too strange to fully accept.
"— Welcome to my house!" — Goku shouted, his voice slicing through the silence with pure, unfiltered energy.
"— It's not big, but Grandpa always said a place is only as good as the care you give it!"
Bulma looked around, trying to process what she was seeing.
There was something unsettling in how simple it all was — a mismatch that made her mind spin. How could someone like Goku live like this?
In the middle of the room, a cast iron pot sat over a low flame.
The massive fish Goku had carried was being cooked like a feast, and the smell was oddly both delicious and disturbing.
He… he's actually going to eat that thing.
"— Oh, wait!"
He scratched his head, like something had just hit him.
"— I didn't even ask your name. What is it again?"
"— It's Bulma."
There was a brief, tense silence.
Then Goku burst into laughter like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world.
"— Bulma? Haha! That name's funny!"
Bulma narrowed her eyes, her exhaustion and frustration thick in her voice.
Look who's talking… Weirdo.
She sat down, cautiously, eyes locked on Goku as he served the food.
He was completely absorbed in the task, like it was the most important thing in the world.
His calm focus was the total opposite of the storm of questions in her mind.
Then something in the room caught her attention.
An orange sphere on a shelf glowed faintly in the firelight. Inside it, four red stars seemed to float in their own little sky.
"— What's that?" Bulma asked, her voice low, almost reverent, full of fascination and confusion.
Goku followed her gaze, and his expression changed — just slightly. He went quiet for a second, like he was choosing his words carefully.
"— That's my master. Or… what's left of him."
Bulma frowned.
"— Your master… is an orange ball?"
"— Yeah. I mean…"
He picked up the sphere, cradling it gently.
"— My grandpa, Gohan, gave me this before he left."
"— Uh-huh..."
"— He said it was important, but never told me why. Just asked me to take care of it."
"— And you never tried to find out what it is?"
"— Nope."
Goku didn't seem fazed at all.
"— I just know it's from him. That's enough."
Bulma stared at the sphere, trying to unravel its mystery.
Something about its glow felt… deeper than just a memory. She opened her mouth to press for more, but stopped herself.
"— I see..."
A brief silence filled the space. But Goku broke it quickly.
"— What about you? What are you doing out here? You look like you're from a big city."
Bulma blinked, caught off guard.
"— I'm looking for my friend."
"— You have a friend? Another girl?" — Goku asked, all curiosity.
"— Yeah…"
She sighed.
"— Her name's Blouse. She disappeared a while ago. And honestly, my life makes no sense without that idiot around."
Goku looked thoughtful for a moment. Then, with a burst of certainty, he smiled.
(...)
"— I got it! I'll help you find her!"
(...)
"— Wait, what? What did you say?!"
Bulma blinked rapidly.
"— Just like that?"
"— Sure!"
He replied with a look that could only be described as shamelessly confident.
"— If you need help, I'll help. That's what friends do, right?"
"— But I just met you, kid! How are you already calling me a friend?"
He paused for a second, looking at her with those big, innocent eyes that had never known anything but sincerity.
He scratched his head before answering:
"— I don't know… It's just… I haven't seen anyone in a long time. I thought I could call you a friend."
The weight of those words hit her like a brick.
The response was so raw, so honest, her irritation shrank to nothing.
A long time? That tracks, given how he acts.
She looked at him more closely.
His face didn't show it, but there was something in his words — a loneliness so deep it almost hurt.
He really thought friendship was simple. An instant connection. No need for rules or explanations.
She opened her mouth to argue, but the words didn't come. Instead, she felt a lump in her throat.
"— How long exactly?" — she asked in a softer tone now.
"— I don't remember."
(...)
"— Since Grandpa left, I've been alone. Sometimes animals show up, but not for long. You're the first person I've seen in forever."
Bulma felt her chest tighten.
He spoke about it like it was normal. But something about how he said "alone" made her shiver.
She was used to people, crowds, constant interaction.
For Goku, solitude was just life.
She sighed, running a hand through her hair, trying to shake the discomfort.
"— Okay, okay… Look, I don't know if that makes us friends, but… I guess we can work together for now. You're strong and all, and my journey's not exactly safe..."
Goku lit up, his smile so pure and sincere it almost hurt.
"— Really?! I've never had a friend before!"
"— Hold up, I didn't say we were friends!"
As Goku started talking excitedly about all the things he wanted to show her, Bulma watched him — part pity, part curiosity.
He was so… different. So unaware of the social basics she took for granted.
And yet, there was something irresistibly real about him. Something that made her want to figure him out, despite all the weirdness.
He really has no one.
And for all the madness, Bulma felt something surprising: responsibility.
"— Alright, alright. Let's get going before I change my mind."
Goku smiled again, and for a second, Bulma couldn't help but return a faint one of her own.
Maybe, just maybe… this strange partnership might actually work.