"Master's wife, is Master doing something? I sensed his ki over there..." Son Gohan approached Hathaway and noticed her staring blankly at the distant Shenron.
Hathaway quickly composed herself and said, "Gohan, take me there."
Son Gohan was surprised but nodded. Carefully carrying her, he used Bukūjutsu to fly toward the massive, awe-inspiring dragon. However, just as they were about to reach it, Hathaway asked him to let her down. Son Gohan obliged, setting her on the ground.
"Gohan, go back first," Hathaway said simply before walking toward Taro. Her eyes didn't linger on the colossal dragon looming overhead—instead, she focused straight ahead, where Taro stood beside Shenron's base, his figure flickering in and out of reality under the dragon's golden radiance.
---
On the other side of the island, underground research facility.
Fabeli stared at the large screen displaying the spectacle outside—the majestic Shenron—and muttered in confusion, "What is this?"
Just as he considered investigating further, the screen shifted to an image of Jarvis's upper body. The AI spoke: "Mr. Fabeli, Mr. Taro has asked me to relay a message: You may pretend you never saw what's happening outside."
"Oh… alright then." After a moment's thought, Fabeli turned off the display.
---
Taro withdrew his gaze from Shenron and turned to Hathaway with a soft smile as she approached. "You came."
The phoenix flapped its wings, lifting off from Taro's arm and circling midair.
Taro reached out, and a gentle force carried Hathaway toward him. He took her hand, his fingers brushing over hers—compared to the version of her in his dreams, this was far more real.
"What are you doing?" Hathaway asked quietly, her tender gaze locked onto his eyes as if a thousand unspoken words dwelled within them. Now, the golden light bathed them both, their forms flickering like illusions.
"Nothing much," Taro replied, as if discussing the most ordinary thing in the world. "I just suddenly thought… growing old together isn't all that interesting. Maybe there's another way."
"Another way?" Hathaway's unwavering gaze remained fixed on him, her affection so deep it could drown an ocean. She smiled faintly, murmuring the question.
"Yeah. There's another choice."
Taro smiled, looking at the woman who had stood by his side for sixty years. *This must be what people mean by a soulmate.*
"Oh? What choice is that? Can you tell me?" Hathaway stepped closer, still smiling.
"Of course. You're the only one I'd tell."
Taro pressed his forehead against hers and whispered:
"I don't think I ever proposed to you. I wonder if Hathaway, like anyone else, might feel a little regret about that. But we've been married for sixty years—it'd be strange to propose now, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, very strange."
"So today… I want to ask for something else instead."
Their eyes met.
Night, starlight, the golden glow of the dragon balls…
The phoenix circled Shenron, its soft cries like a chant.
Time itself seemed to still, the moment frozen in eternity.
"Shenron, my wish is… to bind Hathaway's life to mine."
As he spoke the wish, Taro reached up to smooth Hathaway's wind-tousled hair.
Her eyes widened slowly. Strands of hair fluttered around her face, her wrinkles shifting between light and shadow under the dragon's golden glow.
Above them, Shenron's voice boomed solemnly:
"This wish… is easily granted."
Hathaway's eyes grew even wider as Taro's calm, ocean-deep gaze drew nearer—close enough for her to see her own reflection in his pupils. And in that reflection, she watched as her aged appearance reversed before her very eyes.
Wrinkles faded, one by one.
Slightly sagging skin tightened, regaining its youthful smoothness.
Even her long purple hair regained its former luster.
As the astonishing transformation blurred in her vision, Taro whispered in her ear:
"I'm asking you… to walk with me until the very end. Will you?"
Youthful vitality surged back into Hathaway's body—flowing from the man embracing her, merging with her very being.
At this moment, she could feel it clearly.
Their two hearts had never been closer, pressed together as one.
Her figure beneath the nightgown regained its former grace. Hathaway clung tightly to Taro, then after a pause, nodded against his chest with a soft "Mm."
She lifted her head and said, "Then… does that mean you can also—"
"Also what?" Taro, now restored to his true appearance—a black-haired young man in his twenties—smiled down at the girl in his arms. When she blinked in surprise, then laughed and shook her head, he chuckled. "Never mind."
"Your wish has been granted. Farewell…"
Shenron's voice echoed, and the golden light swirling around Taro and Hathaway soared into the sky. On the other side of the Earth, the darkened heavens slowly brightened once more. The seven Dragon Balls crackled with golden lightning before—BANG!—a deafening burst resounded.
Held by an irresistible force midair, the seven orbs turned to pale white stones, tumbling down with a dull clatter.
But the couple paid no mind to the falling stones. Just as they had decades ago when they first met, they walked hand in hand through the night. The island's scenery remained unchanged, and now, even its people had returned to how they were all those years ago.
The phoenix fluttered down, landing beside the seven white stones. It tilted its head, peering at them curiously.
---
"A prophetic dream? Can mages really do something so strange?"
"Strange? Maybe."
"Heh… then tell me, what was this dream of yours like?"
"You wouldn't like it."
"I would."
"You want to see?"
"I want to see."
"Then… take a look…"
"Alright…"
"Well? Told you you wouldn't like it."
"I think it's fine."
"Stubborn."
"No, I really do like it… Fine, I like this the most now."
---
On the outermost beach of the island, Taro and Hathaway sat side by side. The tide rose and fell, yet not a single wave dared approach them. Hathaway emerged from the illusion Taro had shared, pressing her lips together before resting her head against his shoulder.
"Taro."
"Hm?"
"Turn your hair gray-white again…"
"Okay."
"You didn't even ask why…"
"Heh, why?"
"Because… it's more charming this way."
---
Starry sky, moonlit night.
Age 668, the pale shores of Muten Island.
Two silhouettes stood against the dawn's first light, their forms blending into the dreamlike mist. Layer upon layer, they seemed to merge—until at last, they were no longer two, but one.