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2025-06-12
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The Princess and the Warrior

Summary:

The round-eyed boy with the monkey tail was one of Chichi’s many firsts. But perhaps she had known, from the very beginning, that he would also be her last.

The story of Dragon Ball told through the life of a warrior princess.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: 1

Chapter Text

1.

,

,

 

When she sees him for the first time, he is a round-eyed boy that barely comes up to her height.

“Are you Chichi?” he asks, blinking at her. “Your Papa sent me for you.”

He’s decidedly the weirdest boy she’d ever seen. For one, he’s wearing a tail; secondly, he seems completely disinterested in her status as a princess. He’s also riding a cloud.

His offer of help is lightweight, like the cloud he rides on. He does not look at her the way the men that visit the palace for her hand look at her. He does not bow to her, or kiss her hand, or call her princess. He does not ask how much treasure her father owns. He doesn’t even recognize her gender – and he borderline doesn’t even seem to know whether she’s human.

There’s a strangely reassuring conviction in the way he settles for her identity and speaks to her as if she were an old friend. As if that alone is guarantee against deceit and treachery. As if the world is held up by promises and honor alone.

He is refreshingly ridiculous.

Chichi is twelve years old when she is sent out all alone in the world to save her father. She’d never set foot out in the wild before. Never been without her father’s protection.

She’s scared, but her father believes in her, and she wants to save him and her home more than she is scared. So she goes.

She goes, knowing that there are bad men out there. She knows the men that place eyes on her have one of two things in mind. She knows that the world is a harsh place that does not make space for her.

But she learns that day that there is a boy out there who rides clouds and laughs like air and offers help like second nature. And she learns that the boy and she are inexplicably linked – she is the daughter of the turtle sage’s secondary disciple, while he is the grandson of the turtle sage’s lead disciple.

It feels as if – the winds that she’d sought out to fight the fires destroying her home have instead brought with them a whisper of destiny. She writes his name in her parchment in ink, long after the fire has been put out and her castle is restored. She asks her father to make her strong, so she can go back out into the world one day – and perhaps meet another piece of destiny.

As she trains, she wonders what it would be like to not have to rise to be a warrior queen. What it would be like to be protected, safe – so that she can live a normal life, and not constantly be broken and bleeding from training to fend off the next great threat to her kingdom.

It’s an impossible dream, but she still dreams.

,

,

As she grows, Chichi learns to listen for whispers in the winds, rumors from the world.

She hears of bad men – she was right; there are always bad men – wreaking havoc upon the world outside of her palace walls. There are stories of war, massacre, slaughter of innocents.

And there are stories of a steel-eyed boy who is there each and every time, taking down the bad men bare-fisted.

As the boy travels the world flying through clouds and climbing scales of dragons, Chichi meditates within her palace walls and perfects her stances in the quiet of her garden. As stories of his triumph echo through her halls, she learns to use her fists and hurl bigger men than herself into the air if they so much as put a hand on her. As the skies darken with the dragon’s might and injustice is reversed through the boy’s hands, she strikes down men that come for her money, her body, her name.

She dreams of a boy that never asked for any of those things. A boy who had only held out a hand to help her up.

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,

When Chichi is about to turn eighteen, her father calls her to ask why she has been turning down every suitor in the region.

“Do you not like any of them, my dear?” he asks gently. “Surely there is something you want to see in a man? Tell me, and I’ll find him for you.”

Chichi stands before her father, wearing jeweled crowns and glittering earrings and the mantle of a warrior. “I want a strong man,” she says. “A good man.”

A man that will not allow her crown to hit the ground, or make her take off her earrings to fight. A man who can take that warrior’s mantle off of her shoulders, but is still a good man enough not to wield that strength against her.

A rare combination.

“There are many good men, but not many are strong,” her father says kindly. “But there are many strong men, that are… decent.”

“Are they strong enough to allow me not to lift my own fists?” she says. “Are they strong enough to fend off all the disgusting lowlifes that come crawling at my feet to sing phony love songs?”

He regards his daughter with fond helplessness. “You are wise for your years, but I fear I have jaded you.”

“You did no such thing.” She bows at her father. “Men have been hounding your doorstep for my hand since I was six. You have protected me thus far, but I will protect myself from now on.”

Ox-king is older than many imagine. He has the outward youth that is a gift of the demon-race, but he is a peer of the elderly Gohan, who was old enough to be the boy’s great-great-grandfather when he died. He is a gentle giant at heart; he tires of roaring at impertinent suitors, throwing out unwelcome guests. As he ages, he watches his daughter bloom, and as she blooms, Chichi watches her father age, and together they worry for each other.

“A father’s greatest wish for his daughter,” Ox-king says, “is for her to never have to feel like she must protect herself.”

She doesn’t know how to grant her father that wish. She cannot conjure up good, strong men.

“I am safe,” she promises. “I am the strongest warrior on this side of the world.”

Ox-king comes down from his throne. Gently takes her hands in his. Upturns them, rubs his thumbs over the callouses on her palms.

“A father’s greatest wish for himself,” he says, “is for his daughter to never need callouses on her hands.”

She doesn’t know how to grant her father that wish either.

,

,

When Chichi steps into her father’s hall at his summoning, she finds him standing side by side with a wrinkly old woman seated on a crystal ball.

She bows.

“My brother’s lead disciple, Goku,” says the woman, “will be at the upcoming world martial arts tournament.” She peers at her from the depths of her wrinkles. “It is his final test of adulthood.”

Chichi does not understand.

“Ox-king here tells me that you refuse to marry.”

Chichi braces her feet on the floor. “I do not wish to marry.”

“Do you not wish to love a man, and be loved by him?” the old woman’s smile is knowing. “Or do you simply wish to avoid subjecting yourself to a lesser man who seeks to shrink you to his size?”

“Most men are the latter,” Chichi says, and glances at her father. “I have yet to meet a man that is my match.”

“Go to the tournament,” her father says. “You are ready, child. You will rise to the top, and there you will meet men that are your match – and among them, perhaps a man that may even be good.”

It sounds almost like a blessing. She packs for the solitary journey, and travels alone.

,

,

To Be Continued

Chapter 2: 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

2.

,

,

She sees the name on the leaderboard. Son Goku.

It is like destiny’s call, the winds furiously whispering in her ear. Here they are at last, after having walked separate paths for years – both meeting at the top of the contest for the world’s greatest, where they were always meant to meet.

He is taller than she is.

Her traitorous heart flutters as she watches him knock back opponent after opponent. He does it lightly, easily, politely. He still has a wide-eyed innocence about him, the same unruly hair – but the way he holds himself is different. More elegance, more finesse, more power. He has grown into a man.

She beats down all her opponents, one by one and hundreds, until she finally emerges at the top bracket. There are monsters and weirdos all around, and Goku shines among them, tall and handsome.

Will he remember her?

She knows that she has also grown. From a pair of chubby little things, they have both become unrecognizable. Her pale skin is unmarred after all the bouts of beatings she’d given her opponents. Not a single speck of dust in her lustrous hair. She touches it for a moment, swallows her nerves, and steps up to where he is laughing with his group of friends. His voice is lower now – not too low, just the right tenor. Bright like sunshine, just like the rest of him.

He turns when she touches his shoulder. Blinks at her.

His friends fall into silence.

“Hello,” she says, and can’t help the hopeful smile that breaks from her face as his big eyes land on her.

“…who are you?” he says.

It’s like being kicked in the gut.

,

,

True to their dynamic back as children, Chichi is once again fuming while Goku is completely clueless. But here’s the shocker: he comes after her.

“I’m really sorry,” he says, grabbing her wrist at the back doors. “Will you tell me what I did wrong?”

She stares up at him, not knowing what to say. She hadn’t expected him to chase her down. She hadn’t expected him to apologize, or to… be kind.

Any other man would have said she was crazy for blowing up. Any other man would have walked away.

Goku does neither.

“It doesn’t matter,” she mutters, sitting on a bench to retie her boots. She is not pathetic. She will not be hurt over a stupid boy who didn’t care enough to remember. If he didn’t care, well, she doesn’t care either. She’s not here for him.

Her hands shake as she ties her laces. Her vision blurs, and she angrily wipes her eyes.

All those years of lonely training on her castle grounds. Listening for rumors in the wind of a heroic boy who scaled the backs of dragons, climbed to the realm of the gods. Writing his name in parchments, dreaming of meeting again.

Foolish.

She doesn’t care. She’s here to find a man worthy of her, and if she finds no one, well. She will go on to become that warrior queen she was born to be, protect herself and her kingdom for years to come.

“Hey.”

Goku kneels in front of her, looking at her with wide eyes. His voice is soft. “Don’t be like that. I really AM sorry.”

Chichi’s frantic hands still as his warm hands come to cover hers, and slide to take the laces from her trembling fingers. He ties her boots for her, slow and steady.

He then switches to the other foot, repeating the same gesture.

She stares down at his hands. Large, calloused, warm. They remain on the top of her foot when he’s done, and he looks up with imploring eyes. “Please, tell me?”

A cynical corner of her heart rears its head and whispers: of course he wants to please you now. You’re a beautiful woman. Any man would wag his tail before you. It does not make him good.

Men are two-faced. She’s seen this. Over and over and over. And yet – the boy in front of her makes her want to believe.

She takes a shuddering breath. What if he IS worthy of her?

What if, for the first time in her life, she’s met a man that is strong enough to protect her? For her to finally stop fighting?

Because more than just being strong, she knows – that he has always been, and still is, good.

“Goku!” a high-pitched female voice calls.

Goku turns, his heavy hand still resting on Chichi’s foot, and there is a light-haired woman waving in his direction. She is – gods, she is beautiful.

“Heya, Bulma!” he calls. “Be there in a minute!”

His friends are all staring. The light-haired woman tilts her head, watches Chichi curiously. Chichi’s stomach twists.

What was she thinking, dreaming of fitting into their world?

She is a lonely warrior princess and always will be. She had trekked three thousand leagues alone on foot to participate in a battle for the world’s mightiest. She spent her lonely years training, training to protect herself fiercely and desperately, because she had no choice.  

Goku belongs in a brighter world, a less solitary world. He has friends – cheerful and chatty and unmarred by the shadows of a lonely castle, grabby hands of slimy men. He stands like the sun, a center of adoration among happy laughter, and – who wouldn’t want to be a part of his world? Chichi saw the way this woman was looking at him a moment ago. Startled admiration, thoughtful speculation.

And who wouldn’t? He is worth coveting, all the more for his obliviousness to his own radiance.

“Next contestants please, next contestants please,” says a voice at the intercom. “Quarterfinals round, competitors Son Goku and Unnamed!”

“Unnamed,” Goku muses as he looks up at the leaderboard.

Yes, she thinks.

Because I am a princess traveling alone across three thousand leagues of land, you dimwit, she thinks.

Because I am tired of men that stick to me like flies to shit.

Because I am worthy for my might, not for my name.

She pulls out of his grasp and stands. He looks up at her, still on his knee, and she wants desperately to see him smile for her.

But she squares her shoulders and walks away. Because she is Chichi, warrior princess, and she is here to judge a man’s worth – not to fall in love.

,

,

One of the many things that had set the twelve-year-old boy apart from any other boy she’d ever met was this: Son Goku did not treat her like a girl.

In fact, he had touched her and said excitedly: “oh wow! You’re a GIRL, aren’t you?!”

She should have kicked him off his stupid cloud and never looked back.

Goku still has those bright innocent eyes, but one thing that’s definitely changed, aside from his height and his voice, is this: he treats her like a girl.

Chichi isn’t sure whether to be impressed or insulted. But no matter how much she attacks, he simply sidesteps her.

She knows that she is a formidable warrior. No opponent up to this point had stood a chance against her. She had barely broken a sweat as she made it up to the final rounds.

But here stands Goku, dodging with a worried face, and it feels like she’s throwing herself against a wall.

“Stop dancing around like a pansy!” she shouts at last. “Fight me like a man!”

“But I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, sounding distressed as he leaps from her kick. “Hey, slow down. You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

How dare he, she thinks. How dare he act like he cares?

He leaps up into the sky to avoid her. She leaps up with him, and the arena gasps. Goku is visibly startled – no one had matched him to the point of aerial combat until now.

It burns all the more in her veins.

“You don’t remember me,” she grits, “I suppose you don’t remember our promise either!”

It had meant so little to him. All those years, and he hadn’t thought of her once.

He flails as he dodges her attacks. “What promise?” he says in panic, jumping back down.

She jumps down with him. It explodes out of her chest, the years of waiting and longing and hoping. “That you’d come back for me,” she attacks, “to take me as your bride!”

The crowd falls quiet.

He catches her kick, holding it against his chest and immobilizing her. Chichi falters in surprise.

“Hey, Krillin!” he shouts, staring at her.

Yes, ask for help. Squirm out of it. Coward.

“What’s a bride?!” Goku hollers.

His friends look about to have an aneurysm.

“It means you’re getting married, you idiot!” the short bald guy yells.

“It means you live together forever, Goku!” shouts a taller man. He looks ill. “Goku, did you even know what you were promising?”

Goku’s face goes blank. He lets go.

She braces himself for the excuses. The rejection. The cowardice.

But instead, he furrows his brows, as if desperately trying to solve a puzzle. “Who ARE you?” he says. “Your stances are familiar. Are you a fellow student of the Turtle School?”

“So you did forget!” she rushes him. He sidesteps.

“I’m sorry,” he pleads. “Will you tell me?”

Any other man would have said it’s not his fault. Any other man would have defended himself.

Goku does neither of these things.

He asks for her name, as if it’s their first time exchanging pleasantries. As if she hadn’t just exploded at him for forgetting something that was probably unimportant to him. He overlooks her shame and takes the blame.

It had been so long since a man had spoken to her with kindness. Out of heart, not out of greed or lust. And here she is at last with a man who does so, and he does not know her or care about her. He is simply good, just as the sky is blue and the moon is bright; a beautiful thing to look at, but never hers.

It’s fine. She never wanted him anyway.

“Fight me and win,” she grits, “and you’ll have my name.”

His serious look instantly loosens into that of relief. “Oh. Good. I was worried! What would I call you while spending my life with you if I don’t even know your name?”

…is he serious?

He steps back. “Okay then,” he says. As if beating her will be so easy. She narrows her eyes.

“You’ll have to win first.”

His lips slowly curve up.

The only expressions she remembers on him are curiosity, determination, wide-eyed innocence. But at this moment, she finds a new one that goes straight through her heart: a dark-eyed smile, full of promise.

“Gladly,” he says.

He is a boy no longer.

,

,

To Be Continued

Notes:

If you enjoyed, let me know :3

Chapter 3: 3

Summary:

Yeahhhh I have no principles because comments and encouragements got me to flesh out this story a little more and now it's 5 chapters instead of 4.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

3.

,

,

“Out of bounds!” the announcer shouts. “Unnamed is out! Son Goku wins!”

She climbs to her feet, shaken.

Goku had not lain a finger on her. He’d simply widened his stance and struck the air in front of her, and the ki he generated was enough to throw her out of the arena.

He really is strong, Papa, she thinks numbly. He might be the strongest in the world.

Gone is that devastating smile he’d flashed in her direction before defeating her; Goku is back to his wide-eyed innocence as he crouches at the edge of the arena to hold out a hand.

“Here, let me help you up.”

Just like all those years ago.

She laughs, feeling dizzy. His hand is bigger than hers.

“I’m Chichi,” she says softly as she steps back onto the arena. “Ox-king’s daughter.”

His friends look about to faint.

He blinks at her, and then his face lights up with recognition. “I remember you!”

He remembers. He remembered.

Warmth blooms in her heart, colors her cheeks.

He looks her over at last, appreciatively. “You… look different.”

“So do you.”

It’s a sweet and shy thing, like coming home after a long journey, to find each other after having met as children. To know a piece of each other that no one knows, like a secret page out of a diary. To share a slice of a past, a slice of understanding that no one has, and to marvel at each other’s changes; exchanging whispers of what they know that the world does not.

His brows furrow as he goes through his memory. “I…did make that promise, didn’t I,” he says slowly.

Chichi waits for him to explain. He obviously didn’t know what he was saying. What did he think he was promising?

But he doesn’t explain. He only looks up, and his smile is like sunshine. “Okay! I promised. Let’s do it.”

And her world cracks open, just like that – sunbreak upon three thousand leagues of lonely land.

She blinks shyly down at the ground between them, and he holds out a hand. She takes it, feeling unsteady, and his strong hand wraps around hers like a solid anchor. And he walks off the arena with her, smiling at the shouts and screams and applause from the crowd, as if the world is held up by promises and honor alone.

“Stay here,” he says, gently taking her by the shoulders and firmly placing her behind a wall. He’s looking at a weird green man at a distance, and Chichi’s heart flutters to see the seriousness in Goku’s eyes. Definitely not a boy anymore. “The fight I’m here for – that guy is real dangerous. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

She watches him return to the arena and finally get serious, fighting with his life to battle a monster that’s here to maim and kill him.

To protect the world. To protect her.

When at last he falls at her feet with broken limbs and blood at his throat, she falls to her knees at his side. Swallows down a million screams as he is revived. Tries not to smile as he shakes off the offer to ascend to godhood, and holds out his hand for her to hop on his cloud. To run off and marry her instead to keep a promise.

She doesn’t know Goku very well. But she knows that she is going to love him more than she was ready for.

,

,

“What’s the ceremony for?” Goku asks, eyes big and curious after they’ve gone over the logistics with her father.

They’re seated together at one of the sitting rooms, looking out the window. Pale daylight washes over them both, dark shadows in every corner of the square space inside.

“It’s something married people do,” Chichi answers, unsure of how he’d take it.

He nods. “Okay.”

She can’t help the hand that shyly reaches out for him.

They’d been spending their days at the palace, readying for the ceremony. The Ox-king would spare no expense; he would make it the event of the century. Chichi protests that she does not wish for a large audience – she only wants to be able to wear the dress her father has tearfully given her, and have Goku take her as his wife and look happy about it.

He catches her hand, turns it over in his own in wonder. “Your hands are so small.”

She smiles down bashfully as he holds out his other hand, inviting her to place hers on it. He turns both of her hands in his, and then twists his body to peer down at her feet. “Tiny feet too,” he says in surprise. “How do you punch and kick with such tiny hands and feet?”

He rubs his calloused thumb over her calloused knuckles. Runs it all the way up her wrist, up to her forearm. “Your skin is so soft,” he whispers in near horror. “It would tear so easily if you got hit.”

“It’s how women are,” she says softly.

He looks thoughtful as his eyes roam the curve of her slender neck, the slope of her narrow shoulders, the smoothness of her arms. “Fighting is… harder for girls, isn’t it,” he says in slow realization. “You have to train twice as hard to deliver the same kick, and you have to be twice as fast to avoid being touched. And if you get hit… you suffer twice as much.” He looks her over with newfound admiration.

“I can fight,” Chichi says, feeling shy. “But I don’t want to.”

Goku wordlessly wraps her small hands in his.

“I’m obviously made for it, since I have bigger bones and thicker skin.” He smiles like sunshine, breaking through the gray white of the room. “I’ll do the fighting, and you don’t have to.”

She swallows the tremor down her throat, and tightens her fingers on his.

,

,

Goku looks confused about a lot of things that go into the wedding, but he goes along with it in good humor. Because it seems important to her that he dress in a suit, he allows the maids to dress him. Because she blushes when they meet with her face hidden behind a veil, he carefully lifts the veil, smiles down at her, and tells her that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, because she is very pretty. And when she asks him to kiss her and sticks out her lips, he laughingly places his own on hers in a chaste peck.

She likes how he holds her hand even after they part, warm and reassuring as he smiles down at her.

The Ox-king helps Goku refurbish his grandfather’s abandoned house in Mount Paozu. Chichi tells Goku that married couples live together and raise children and focus on each other. He nods and listens. He simply accepts when she tells him that married couples are supposed to share the same bed. He goes to sleep next to her, oblivious to the world.

On the fourth night, she bravely sticks out her hand and touches his chest.

He had been training under the gods. Growing up without any contact with worldly desires, doing nothing but disciplining his mind and body all his years – she isn’t sure if this is a boon (for her jealousy) or a flaw (for her wants).

What if she’d married a – heaven forbid – monk? An ascetic? Or – someone who desires men instead of women?

He is handsome and he is kind and he is good, and she wants to be loved by him. She wants him to hold her and smile down at a baby together with her. She wants –

His hand comes to catch hers in the dark. “What are you doing?”

She swallows. “Just… finding out.”

He slowly lets go. She sucks in a breath as his body moves, and in an impossible moment he is right in front of her, all sleep gone from his eyes.

“Is this one of those things that married couples do?” he says.

She nods, unable to speak.

His eyes smolder hot. “Can I do it to you?”

Blushing hot, she nods.

The hand that comes around her waist to pull her close is impossibly gentle. She can feel the strength there that he is suppressing, careful not to hurt her.

He had never touched a woman before. She holds her breath as his hand slowly maps her side. He has never touched a woman, and yet he instinctively knows that a woman is softer. More breakable. Her breath stutters as his hand travels slowly, and his breath answers in a rough inhale as he buries his face in her shoulder, chest heaving.

Her stuttered breaths become moans as his mouth trails lower, reveling in the smoothness of her skin and the softness of her flesh. And the further he goes, the louder she moans, the tighter his grip on her – until he rolls himself over her, looking down at her with an intensity she’d never seen that makes her tingle from head to toe.

She only has to nudge him where to go. He instinctively knows the rest. And as she begins to hold her breath, half in pain, he stops, looks down at her in worry, and doesn’t move until she whispers at him to continue. He is excruciatingly slow, in perfect control of every muscle in his body, as he waits for her, lips seeking out parts of her skin that make her sigh.

At last she wraps her legs around him, shy and overwhelmed by the gentleness in the hard planes of his body, and he groans.

“Chichi,” he whispers, and she all but sobs as he lowers his mouth onto hers and kisses her long and deep.

She is in love.

,

,

To Be Continued

Notes:

Uhhh yeah ok that's the most explicit I've ever written so far XD

Thank you for reading and please review if you've enjoyed :3

Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

4.

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,

For all that he looked like an oblivious virgin even after their wedding night, Goku catches onto the whole marriage thing very quickly.

Chichi is nervous that he will spend too much time off with his raucous friends, or – ugh – the pervert sage. But he does not.

He stays dutifully at home, chopping firewood. Going out hunting, catching monster fish. Lugging water from the river in giant tubs, heating them into a bath for her. Life in their little house in the mountain lacks creature comforts, and yet he never makes her feel like she’s lacking.

And at night, when she lies down shyly next to him, he reaches for her with a warm hand around her waist and a hot kiss upon her mouth, eager to find parts of her body that make her moan.

He is an attentive lover. She should have guessed by the way he’s been building parts of the house and fabricating tools with wood that he’s got talented hands, but by gods.

He listens for the slightest hitch in her breath, watches for the slightest faltering of her movements. Asks her what’s wrong. Where he should go next. What feels best where. Her face is constantly on fire when he talks like this, but he only smiles and drops kisses onto her, and tells her that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, because she is very pretty.

And when she shyly stays his hand after a while, telling him that it’s okay, women are harder to please, he must be tired – he swats her hand away with a determined look and puts his endless stamina to use until he has her crying out into his kiss.

By the time the baby is eight months in the womb, Goku finally stops picking her up and swinging her around in the kitchen every evening. Chichi suggests that they do a slow dance; he blinks in confusion at first, but is quick on the uptake when she shows him. Soon they are waltzing around the living room as he laughs and she playfully slaps his arm, the pot bubbling over and forgotten. 

When Gohan is born, he gently puts a dragon ball – his most precious possession, an heirloom from his only family – on top of the baby’s hat, and hugs him tight.

He is a good father.

Goku is never without Gohan in his arms when he walks around the house. He takes the boy fishing when he can barely grasp a fishing rod, because he wants to teach him how to use tools.  Learn the patience of having to wait for things, not punch through things.

Perhaps living with the gods has taught him to appreciate the frailty of life.

They live happy, quiet lives, isolated from friends and family, until the woman – Bulma – reaches out. She wants a reunion.

Goku had proven himself a devoted father and husband these five years. Gohan is old enough to entertain himself while the adults are talking. It's a very reasonable request, all things considered.

Chichi says yes.

Goku takes Gohan on that cloud of his and kisses her goodbye, promises to be back for dinner.

Neither comes back.

,

,

She finds Goku at the battleground. He’d died a year before, spent a whole year training as a dead man to protect the world. Then he fought again, and nearly died again.

Apparently he had been given a choice: fight to the death, or save himself on a draw – pledge loyalty to his people of origin and become second in command to the surviving prince.

To which his answer had been, according to Krillin: “No thanks; my wife is waiting at home.”

So he greets her as a mangled wreck of a man, smiling tiredly on a bloodied battleground where her son also lies exhausted – but alive and whole.

But it doesn't end there, because her husband is still a mummy in a special pod in the hospital when her son runs off to outer space because apparently dying doesn’t scare her brood more than the idea of his father’s friends staying dead. She watches speechlessly as he leaves with Bulma and Krillin, and then her husband also runs off to space, because why the hell not.

So this is now her life.

By the miracles of the gods, her son returns. Triumphant, he returns, with friends and foes alike, and… her husband does not return.

Again, he takes his year to come back. Her son flies – flies! – off one day and returns with him.

“Hey Chichi,” smiles her idiot husband, dressed like a clown and looking so radiant and happy and healthy, and she wants to scream.

She does. He holds her tight until her tears are spent.

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Three years of teaching her little boy how to fight – laughing and training like best buddies with the monster demon-king who’d nearly killed him, then successfully killed him, then kidnapped their child – and they fly off to fight. Chichi stays home, biting her nails, praying it’s all a joke. Praying it’s all a wild made-up story about a time traveler and a heart disease and some cyborg monsters. It has to be.  

Then Goku comes back.

No: he gets delivered back, wheezing delirious and in pain. There is talk of heart medication – it’s urgent. She turns the entire house upside down for it.

Apparently her husband has not been able to defeat the enemy. She’s told by his friends that they must flee – he’s a target; they’re coming to kill him.

Her husband. The strongest in the universe, protector of worlds, the unshakable champion of her life.

He is now a fugitive.

She takes him and flees. It’s her turn to protect Goku and, gods help her, she will – or die trying.

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For the first time in her life, Chichi thanks the gods that Goku grew up surrounded by friends.

She used to be jealous, once upon a time. Insecure about how he had so many people that were willing to have him if he were free of his promise to her.

But his friend comes running in asking for medicine and helps carry her husband into an aircraft. Her husband is taken to a house of the turtle sage, who takes him in as if he’d been a grandfather waiting to nurse his grandson back to health. His other friends drop by, check in on him, call to ask about him, stand guard around him.

It’s… surreal.

“They’re yours too, you know,” the turtle sage says, not looking at her, as they sit outside of the house in silence.

The moon is silver bright where the water laps at their feet. Chichi feels unmoored as the old man turns to glance at her, his eyes unreadable behind his ever-present sunglasses.

“You are surrounded by friends, child,” he says, in that voice that usually says more horrifically perverted things than anything of use. “You are Goku’s family, just as we are his family. You belong with us.”

She feels suddenly too exposed. She stands, unsteady, and summons every grace she can to walk back into the house and go sit at her husband’s bedside, only lit by a square of moonlight.

He had died and almost-died so many times in recent years. And here he is, trying to die again, and –

It was one thing for him to run off and go fight a solitary battle she knew nothing about. There was enough distance between those battles and herself – by design, as her husband only laughed and reassured her that it was fine – that she knew it was nothing for her to worry over. She trusted his word the way she trusted the sky to be blue: if he said it was alright, it was alright. If he said he could win, he would win.

So to feel backed up against the corner – to feel the enemy closing in, hunting them like prey, while her husband lies unconscious, unable to give her reassurances – is a fear she’s never known.

And to be – protected – by friends who mobilize around them like a desperate army; it is a scenario too fantastic to be anything but a dream.

The world truly is ending, isn’t it. It has to be, if her beloved is lying here dying.

“Mom?” Gohan’s voice calls out from the dark corner where he’d been dozing. “What’s wrong?”

Gohan: their eldest, their first, their only. He has eyes that see more than he tells. The way he bites his tongue – the faces he makes – is like seeing a mirror of herself growing up within those palace walls where she raged in silence through kicks and punches, dreaming one day of being able to put away her fighting gear. The way he stares defiant and stubborn – the way he can kick through walls and bring down the heavens, but does not want to.

He does not want to.

He never wanted blood on his hands any more than Chichi wanted to grow up to be warrior queen. She’d tried so hard to protect him from the bloodshed of battle – but it seems she has failed, because he is called to battle time and again. She had thought she’d escaped that life for good by marrying the strongest man in the universe, but she’d only passed on her fate to their child instead.

He grew too fast for her. Out of her arms, into battle, into the skies, into space. He is still small, but his eyes glimmer with infinite wisdom as he comes to her at the bedside and lays a gentle hand on hers.

With Goku lying so helpless, she feels adrift. The pillar of strength she’d always leaned on is crumbling, and what is she without him now?

Without Goku to protect them – the friends surrounding them are a flimsy fortress, surely to be knocked down the moment they are found.

She reminds herself of those long years of lonely training in her palace courtyard. She is Chichi, warrior princess. And if needs rise, she will answer the call to battle herself, and protect what is hers.

She must.

Gohan burrows into her arms when she wordlessly opens them, and together they sit huddled in moonlight, watching Goku’s chest rise and fall.

“It’s alright, Mom,” Gohan whispers. Small hands rub her arms, calloused beyond his years. “We’re stronger than you think. We’ll keep Father safe.” He squeezes her. “Trunks and Vegeta are just as strong as Father, and they’re heads and shoulders above any of us. And Trunks won’t let anything happen to us. I know it.”

Chichi is thirty years old when she learns what true fear feels like. What the sky looks like without her pillar holding it up. When it all comes crumbling down, she looks around and sees – that she is not alone.

It’s almost as terrifying.

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To Be Continued

Notes:

Notes: The mention of slowing down for things in this chapter is a reference to Chapter 2 of Finding Home.

The friendship between Gohan and Future Trunks hinted here is more explored in other stories such as Behind the Hero's Mask and others.

Chapter 5

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

5.

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When he wakes, the first thing her idiot husband does is smile, apologize for worrying her, and pull her into his arms.

She had so many words prepared for him. So many shouts and scoldings pressed into a thin string like a fuse, ready to explode at a moment’s notice. The moment this stupid man opened his eyes, she was going to –

But then he kisses her, sweet and warm.

By the time he releases her from the kiss, she’s forgotten to be angry at him, and only manages to punch his arm for putting her through these days of panic. He laughs apologetically and kisses her again, and this time she closes her eyes.

Her sky is rebuilding. The sun is back in its place. The world is right again. She feels steady on her feet, and nothing will knock her down – not as long as she has this man, god-touched and earth-bound, holding her hands and looking into her eyes as if she is the only thing that matters. Promising to find a way out of this danger, promising to protect her and everyone they love, because of course he can. If anyone can, her husband can, and she believes this as unquestioningly as she believes that the earth is round and fire is hot.

Goku is healthy again. They now have a fighting chance.

Apparently he knows everything that happened. She’s not even surprised anymore; she only smiles helplessly as he asks her the question she knows is coming.

As if she’s ever had a choice.

“If it must be done, do it right,” she says with finality. “Make Gohan the strongest in the universe.”

He clasps her hands in his.

“And when it’s done,” she says, “he goes to school. And you go to work.”

He smiles.

“Thank you, Chichi,” he says, kissing her again, and the way he looks at her reminds her of the way he’d looked at her when he agreed to beat her in the martial arts tournament. As if he’s seeing her again for the first time, eyes dark with promise.

The world is ending, her son is leaving, her husband keeps dying, and nothing is within her control anymore as her life spins out of reach. But he still kisses her like she matters. Still asks her opinions like he cares. And looks at her as if there are a million things he wants to do with her after it’s all over.

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Goku makes good on his promise to have them become a normal family before it’s even over.

He checks the firewood stock. He rebuilds the shed. He catalogues their stash of sheets and blankets and kitchen towels. He repairs the gap in the door and retightens the latches on the windows.

(As if he plans to be gone.)

They go picnicking at the river. He teaches Gohan how to fish again. He refuses to get out of that ridiculous blond look, for fighting reasons apparently, but – he is back to being Goku of ten years ago. He hugs her from behind as she washes dishes; his hand wraps around her waist as she walks by with a tray; he kisses her whenever he catches her in the hallway.

She feels like a teenager all over again, flustered under his gaze. He smiles down knowingly, pecks her on the cheek – and then kisses her full-mouthed, just for good measure, whispering that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, because she is very pretty.

And at night, he turns to her, lays a hand on her waist, slowly runs it up and down her hip with intent.

“Chichi,” he whispers, voice low and smoldering, and she has no choice but to moan into the heat of his kiss as he gently rolls over her and makes love to her, slow and insistent with blazing focus as if she is the only thing that exists.

On the fateful day, he waves at her as if he’s going out on lunch break before taking their son to fight.

Only her son returns. And her skies come tumbling down one more time.

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“Mama,” Goten says, pulling at her hem.

She pauses from wiping the kitchen counter. “Yes, my darling?”

“What was Papa like?”

Chichi looks down at her youngest. An unexpected miracle, a farewell gift from her love.

“He was the kindest,” she says, bending down as short arms come to wrap around her neck, “friendliest,” she lifts him up and stands, “and strongest person in the whole world.” She kisses his round cheek. “And he loved us all – so, so much.”

She does not know how to tell her child that her husband was a boy with sunshine laughter. That he commanded clouds at whim, climbed the scales of dragons, connected the earth and sky with his heavenly bo. That he was marked for godhood, but he tossed it to the wind so he could run off and marry her instead – so she would never have to fight again.

He was special. And he was all hers.

“Brother said you two met while fighting,” Goten chirps. “Is that true?”

“It’s true, my love.” She ambles around the kitchen, holding her child tight in her arms. Holding him all the tighter for all the times she never got to hold her eldest – her dear little Gohan who grew up too fast so that he could fight. So that she would not have to.

Father said you never wanted to fight either, Gohan once told her, young and wise and grave. He was still small enough to fit into her arms when he stood in a field of flowers, his white changshan billowing serenely in the wind as if he hadn't just been caught practicing martial arts maneuvers too fast for the human eye to see. As long as you have me, Mother, you will never have to fight again.

“Mama and Papa met in a martial arts competition," she whispers. "We competed against each other.”

Goten’s eyes are round. “Like me and Trunks?”

Unlike Gohan, sweet Gohan who never wanted to fight – Goten playfights a lot with Bulma’s boy. Bulma’s boy, spoiled to high heaven with all the wealth in the world at his fingertips. He is delivered on an almost-daily basis to her doorstep by a quiet Vegeta, and one might wonder at her allowing her child to be so close to such an influence – but she cannot bring herself to be wary. Not after what another version of the boy had done for her husband.

The boy who came crashing into her world to save them from monsters, and saved them again with a prophecy, and then saved her husband just for good measure. The boy who smelled of smoke and oil and smog, carrying a familiar sword, who watched Gohan with eyes that have seen a thousand deaths. The boy who stood at a polite distance, bowing at her silently, as if he owed her the world.

“Yes,” she whispers, her throat closing. “Just like you and Trunks.”

I don't want to fight either, Gohan had said in that flower field that day, long after the time machine had disappeared into the sky. But if I must fight, I am grateful to have something worth fighting for.

Goten is quiet, hugging her neck with his plump arms.

“Mama,” he suddenly says, “marsulart fighting is different from me and Trunks playing, huh.”

Chichi smiles. “A little bit.”

“Can I learn marsulart fighting?”

She squeezes wordlessly, heat unfurling in her chest.

Goten detaches just enough to peer up at her eyes. “Can’t I?”

She forces a watery smile. “Why do you want to learn, baby?”

Goten holds up his chubby fingers excitedly. “Cuz you and Papa did it,” he sings. “And, and, Brother did it! Uncle Vegeta said Brother is the strongest marsulartist in the whole world! And, and, Papa was super strong, right? Brother said. And and, Trunks says he started it, and you and Papa did it to get married, so if I wanna marry Trunks I have to do it too.”

Chichi laughs out loud for the first time in a long time. The fact that her secondborn can truly be a child that Gohan never was – it is another gift. The mark of the sacrifices they made – her, Goku, and Gohan. Together.

Chichi finally lowers him onto the floor. “Let’s go outside.”

She watches him bounce on his heels, innocent smile wide with happiness. That same smile that used to be directed at her, brightening her world.

Chichi, she hears him whisper, and swallows.

Maybe one day, this spitting Image of Goku will also climb the scales of dragons and wield a bo that reaches the heavens. Maybe one day, he will also command the clouds to part at his whim and laugh as he rides the winds.

She unties her apron.

“You might see your friend throwing around ki blasts,” she says sternly. “But if you want to learn real martial arts, you will learn it properly, from the ground up. Just like Mama and Papa did.”

She takes a basic stance – summons the memory seared into her bones, the strength that thunders in her veins. Buried, but never forgotten.

Her husband may be gone, but gods help her if she lets him be forgotten.

Her baby boy squeals as he emulates her. She smiles as she corrects his posture, patiently explaining the principles behind the flow of energy. The life force around them that may be scattered, but never truly gone.

Somewhere far away, she thinks she hears distant laughter in the winds.

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The End

Notes:

-This chapter's mention of Gohan fighting for Chichi in Goku's stead is an echo of Goten fighting for Chichi in Goku's stead in Blood of Heroes.

-The flashback of the friendship between Gohan and Future Trunks in this chapter would land somewhere between Chapter 4 and 5 of Finding Home.

-Goten's friendship with present-day Trunks hinted here directly connect with their portrayal in Saiyan Pride.

-This story was meant to be a light little exercise, but I had a lot of fun returning to this style and am sad to have finished this. Thank you to all that have left comments, and please do leave comments so we can squeal together!

-Someone asked for a Buu saga coverage in this style and I didn't do that only because Blood of Heroes kinda covers it. But I'm happy to hear more suggestions if anyone wants to throw them my way.

Notes:

-Something along the vein (ha) of Blood of Heroes.

-Title ambivalent on purpose because you know

-Please leave a comment if you liked it!