Chapter Text
In a wasteland not far from Capsule Corp’s main building, the sounds of arms and legs clashing echoed through the air, dust clouds forming left and right from the intense spar.
Two figures floated midair, trading punch after punch, kick after kick.
The sun shone in his eyes, drops of sweat dripped down his forehead. Adrenaline rushed in his veins—and he could see Vegeta basking in the thrill of the spar too.
“You can do better than that, can’t you, Kakarot?” he heard Vegeta say mockingly, floating in front of him while he quickly climbed out of the crater from the side of the mountain he’d been launched into.
Goku chuckled in response, brushing dust off his gi as he glanced up at Vegeta.
“Don't underestimate me too much, Vegeta!” was the last thing he heard before Goku punched him across several mountains, the rocks crumbling throughout the desolate wasteland.
Vegeta slowly stood up from where he landed a few hundred metres away, wiping dust from his face.
‘That clown…’ He thought—before blocking a punch from behind him.
He wasn't the only one who knew instant transmission now. It became much easier to predict where he would be.
Vegeta swatted Goku’s fist aside and launched a flurry of punches—Goku dodging each one with ease before swinging back.
As the two sparred beneath the heat of the sun, Goku’s mind held only one thought: training.
Ever since Beerus went back to sleep, and Whis being preoccupied—according to Bulma when he asked—the two Saiyans are forced to train on Earth until then, much to Vegeta’s displeasure.
Goku, on the other hand, didn’t mind at all. As long as he was training, he was content.
And train he did—with Vegeta.
Speaking of Vegeta, he snapped out of it when Vegeta briefly transformed into Super Saiyan Blue for a boost of speed, landing a devastating blow to Goku’s stomach, but he only pouted.
“Hey! We said base forms only, Vegeta!” Goku huffed, sounding close to a whine as they returned to the ground.
“Well it's not my fault a certain idiot isn't paying attention..” Vegeta shot back.
“You're spacing out, idiot.”
Goku looked at him quietly—because he knew Vegeta was right.
Because after the defeat of Gas, things had been… quiet.
Too quiet.
Now, don’t get him wrong—Goku liked it when everything was fine. He liked knowing that no one had to worry about threats to Earth or the universe.
But the silence... It felt wrong. Like the calm that comes before something.
A small thread of paranoia had begun to creep into him—just the faintest itch in the back of his mind. The fear that someone—or something—could appear out of nowhere. Again.
A few names flickered through his mind—Moro, Gas, Cell Max (but Gohan dealt with him) and of course, Frieza. Especially his new form… It made it hard to grasp the difference in their power.
But he kept those thoughts buried deep, locked behind a calm expression.
And with Broly busy training in self-control under Gohan, that left only one real sparring partner left.
Vegeta.
Who he was fighting right now. But he didn’t need to make him worry.
“Let’s just take a break. It’s nearly lunchtime anyway,” Vegeta said, breaking the silence as he stared in the direction of Capsule Corp.
Goku let out a quiet sigh of relief. If nothing else, filling his stomach might help quiet the unease in his chest—at least for a little while.
Goku opened his mouth to respond—
—but then it hit them.
A chill, crawling sensation raced down their spines, sharp and sudden. The kind of feeling that came before something bad.
The two of them looked around, their guards up, ready to transform the moment anything threatening came into view.
Silence hung in the air—broken only by the soft whisper of wind passing through the empty space.
But out of the corner of Vegeta’s eye, he spotted something—
—something racing straight toward Goku.
And fast.
Without a second thought, Vegeta flared into Super Saiyan Blue and launched forward, slamming into Goku just in time to knock him out of harm’s way.
But there was one thing he didn’t account for—
Getting hit himself.
“Vegeta!?” Goku shouted, turning to see the strange black mass already gone.
Vanished without a trace.
But his eyes widened as he looked at Vegeta, now floating in midair—completely still.
But as Goku moved in closer, a faint flicker of light surrounded Vegeta—
—before his transformation collapsed.
His blue aura vanished, and in the next instant, his body dropped.
Goku lunged forward, catching him just before he hit the ground.
“Hey—Vegeta! Come on, say something!”
Cradling his friend in his arms, Goku gently floated back to the ground, the weight of the moment settling heavily on his chest.
At first glance, he looked unharmed. No blood. No wounds. Not even a scratch.
But his eyes were shut. His energy was dropping fast.
Like he’d been… switched off.
Goku’s heart sank.
What the hell just happened?
He leaned in closer, focusing on Vegeta’s energy.
It was still there. Steady, but faint. As if his body had gone into survival mode, preserving just enough ki to stay alive.
Goku had no idea what had just happened—no wounds, no explanation—but he knew one thing for sure: He had to get Vegeta help. Now.
He can worry about the strange mass later.
Without hesitation, Goku scooped him into his arms and blasted off toward Capsule Corp, his mind racing faster than his body.
Adrenaline pumped through him. Fear twisted in his gut.
Something wasn’t right.
And this time… he had no idea how to fix it.
——
Capsule Corp
Bulma had been tinkering away in her lab, carefully adjusting the wiring of a prototype she’d spent the past few days developing.
Peaceful, in her opinion. A rare moment of quiet focus.
Until it shattered.
A loud crash echoed from the far side of the building—followed by the lab doors bursting open.
“Bulma!”
She spun around, startled, just in time to see Goku standing in the doorway, cradling an unconscious Vegeta in his arms.
“Please—Vegeta’s not waking up! I need your help!”
The panic in his voice made her drop her tools instantly.
“Come on—this way!” she said quickly, leading him through the corridors to one of the emergency medical rooms she kept ready for exactly this kind of situation.
But as they moved, something about Goku’s expression caught her eye.
He looked... shaken.
And that scared her more than she wanted to admit.
Bulma quickly called one of the medical staff on standby, motioning for Goku to step aside once Vegeta was carefully placed on the medical bed.
She hadn’t expected a simple sparring session to spiral so far out of control.
Turning toward Goku, she noted how tense he looked—too tense, in her opinion. But she pushed the thought aside as the doctor arrived.
“Let’s get his stats,” the doctor said briskly.
Bulma nodded, immediately shifting into work mode as they began scanning and collecting data.
Still…
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something about this wasn’t right.
——
Goku didn’t know what to think.
Just moments ago, they were locked in the rhythm of combat—heat, dust, fists flying.
And now… Vegeta was unconscious.
Taken down by some kind of black mass Goku had never seen before.
He stood frozen outside the med-room door, mind racing, chest tight.
How was he supposed to explain this?
Would they believe him, even though he was the only one to witness it?
...Surely they would, right?
He didn’t do anything wrong.
Vegeta pushed him out of the way.
...But why?
It didn’t make sense. That wasn’t like him at all.
Vegeta wasn’t the type to throw himself in harm’s way—especially not for Goku. Not for his rival.
Not unless…
Goku shook the thought away, unable to finish it. His stomach twisted.
Something was off.
And he had a feeling this was only the beginning.
…
What no one noticed was the faint trace of that black mass—slipping through the window like smoke, quiet and unseen.
It crept toward Bulma, merging with her before she even realized it was there.
And then—it was gone.
She blinked as a sharp headache flared behind her eyes, but it faded just as quickly.
Probably just stress, she told herself.
Her focus returned to the medical scans, a growing frown forming as the data came in.
“Vitals are completely normal,” the doctor said beside her.
Bulma nodded, lips tightening.
Heartbeat? Normal.
Blood pressure? Normal.
Brain activity? Normal—like someone in deep sleep.
Too normal.
Perfectly, unnaturally normal…
Bulma's stomach twisted.
If there was nothing wrong physically…
Then why wasn’t Vegeta waking up?
Bulma’s heart raced, her thoughts spiraling as she stood beside her unconscious husband.
Her eyes flicked briefly to the other Saiyan in the room—Goku.
Unseen by anyone, the remnants of the mysterious black mass stirred quietly beneath the surface… fueling something dark.
Bulma’s chest tightened.
A strange heat coiled in her head, her mind clouding with emotion.
Anger.
Anger toward Goku.
How could he let this happen? How could he be so careless?
The blame settled in her chest with disturbing ease, as if it had always been there—just waiting to surface.
She didn’t question it.
Didn’t realize she should.
Because slowly, silently… the black mass had begun to twist her thoughts.
——
Goku’s chest tightened. Something felt… wrong.
Very wrong.
He couldn’t explain it, but the air felt heavier. The room, colder. He turned, about to step out for some fresh air—when Bulma stepped in front of him.
He froze.
When his eyes met hers… he staggered inside.
There was no concern in her gaze. No curiosity. Just—pure, unmistakable hatred.
Directed at him.
Goku blinked, stunned. He hadn’t done anything… had he?
He brought Vegeta here, panicking, trying to help. He hadn’t even thought twice—he just acted.
Surely, she didn’t think this was his fault… right?
But then it hit him—
He hadn’t even explained what happened yet.
So, he tried.
“Bulma…” he began, voice tight, “I swear, I didn’t do anything to Vegeta. We were just sparring in the wasteland nearby when this strange black mass showed up outta nowhere.”
He paused, remembering the split second.
“He—he pushed me out of the way. Took the hit himself. I didn’t even realize it was serious until it was too late…”
His voice cracked slightly as he finished.
His words hung in the air, unanswered.
But Bulma’s eyes didn’t soften. If anything, her anger burned even brighter.
“You’re always causing trouble, Goku!” she snapped.
“And now my husband is lying in a coma, and we don’t even know why!”
Her voice rose, sharper than Goku was ready for.
“We don’t know if he’s going to wake up—if the Dragon Balls will even work! Whis is unavailable, stuck in that long meeting or whatever, so we can’t get help from him either!”
She took a step closer, fury radiating off her like heat.
“And you expect me to believe you? When you’re the only one who saw what happened?!”
Her voice echoed through the room, each word hitting harder than the last.
Goku had seen Bulma angry before—countless times.
But this…
This was different.
She had never yelled at him like this.
Not even when they first met. Not even when he did something stupid.
She had never looked at him with this much hatred.
And it hurts.
He didn’t even know what to do anymore…
Bulma had been his first real friend.
The first person to accept him for who he truly was—even after learning he wasn’t human.
Even after all the chaos they’d been through together.
Against the Saiyans.
Against the androids and Cell.
Against Buu.
Through every battle… she’d been there.
And now?
Now she looked at him like he was the enemy.
The irony stung.
He was the one who spared Vegeta all those years ago, even when no one else thought he should.
He was the one who saw something in him—gave him the chance to change.
And yet now… he was being blamed for the very thing he would never do.
He would never hurt Vegeta.
He would never sabotage him.
But it didn’t matter.
Because she didn't believe that anymore.
“Get out,” Bulma said, venom lacing her voice.
Goku flinched.
Something about the way she said it felt… off.
Unnatural.
Like even she wasn’t fully convinced by her own words.
But he didn’t argue. He respected her too much for that.
She was his first friend. If she wanted him gone, he would go.
“I didn’t… do it…” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he turned away.
The door clicked shut behind him—though not all the way.
He didn’t look back.
Bulma scoffed, the sound bitter as anger simmered in her chest.
And yet, something darker stirred just beneath the surface.
——
Goku stepped out into the hallway, his mind filled with static.
He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
She’d really done it. She kicked him out.
…She didn’t believe him.
Bulma—of all people.
Sure, he wasn’t the smartest guy around.
He’d been told that enough.
Head injuries. Cluelessness. Naïveté. He’d heard it all.
But he knew what he saw.
His memory wasn’t vague. The image was burned into his mind.
Vegeta pushing him aside.
That black mass colliding with his chest.
The sheer panic as Vegeta dropped, limp and lifeless.
The sting of guilt and fear coursing through him as he caught his rival’s falling body.
It haunted him.
And now it felt like everyone was turning against him.
——
Outside Capsule Corp, the sky was clear—but Goku’s thoughts were storming.
Inside, Bulma glanced toward her cluttered workbench. Her eyes landed on her phone beside a messy clipboard.
A thought stirred. Quiet at first. Then louder.
He ruined everything.
Vegeta in a coma. Her life upended.
Why shouldn’t she ruin his?
She didn’t know—couldn’t know—how deeply the black mass had begun twisting her thoughts.
She picked up the phone. Her expression, cold. Eyes hard.
She tapped a familiar contact and pressed “call.”
Her voice trembled just enough to sound genuine.
“Chi-Chi… something bad happened and—I just… I need to vent...”
Her tone cracked. But her face didn’t.