Son Gohan stepped out of the room and looked down the mountain—
but Son Goku was already gone, vanishing without a trace.
With a soft sigh, Gohan murmured, "Forget it. I'll show him when he comes back."
He picked up the Dragon Ball, turning it in his hand.
"This thing's gotta be a treasure… If only it stayed lit all the time.
Could replace a light bulb—no electricity bills ever again."
Parallel timeline. The future.
"Trunks, go! Hurry!"
"Not without finding Son Goku!"
"Forget me! Go!"
Black Goku's energy wave was about to strike Trunks.
At the final moment, the Time Machine vanished with a flash—"whoosh!"—
leaving only empty air where it once was.
Deprived of a target, Black Goku froze for an instant.
Then his eyes narrowed with savage delight.
He reached out, seizing Bulma by the throat with cruel precision.
"Mortals… you truly surprise me," he said darkly.
"That such small, filthy creatures could create a machine that transcends time itself..."
Bulma stared at that all-too-familiar face—
one she had laughed with, argued with, trusted—
but now twisted into something monstrous.
Her heart sank.
She knew.
He wasn't Goku.
And she also knew—
the Goku of the past would never reach this broken future to save her.
The Time Machine's fuel was good for only one trip.
Still, if in her final moments she could send Trunks away…
and see that face once more,
even if it wasn't truly him—
then dying by his hand didn't feel so bad.
She closed her eyes.
A single clear tear slid down her cheek.
As her life faded,
her memories flooded back like a film played in reverse.
When she was sixteen,
she'd journeyed to Mount Paozu in search of the Dragon Balls.
That was the day she met the wild boy who lived like a child of the forest—Son Goku—
and led him out into the world.
No matter what danger they faced,
it was always Goku—
that clueless, innocent kid—
who saved the day,
who protected her,
who protected everyone.
But back then, he was just a kid.
At sixteen, all Bulma felt for him was trust and friendship.
Until the 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament—
when she saw Goku grown up.
Handsome. Stunning.
She couldn't look away.
After everything they'd been through,
after all the adventures,
no one made her feel safer than Goku did.
In that instant, she realized—
compared to that fickle flirt Yamcha,
this battle-obsessed, emotionless idiot somehow felt… right.
She understood Goku better than anyone.
And he trusted her more than anyone.
But before she could say or do anything—
Chi-Chi appeared,
and swept him away without warning.
That year, the crowd at the tournament erupted in cheers,
celebrating their sudden engagement,
blessing the "happy couple."
No one noticed the shock and sorrow in Bulma's eyes.
When she saw him again years later,
he already had a four-year-old son.
Too late.
Maybe that's what fate is, she thought bitterly—close, but never meant to be.
When Gohan was four, Raditz arrived.
Because of the Dragon Balls, there was still hope for resurrection.
But to protect the Earth, Goku chose to die with his brother.
When the Saiyans came,
even old enemies like Piccolo joined forces.
They all trained, ready for the battle that would decide the Earth's fate.
One year later, Vegeta and Nappa descended.
Yamcha, Chiaotzu, Tien, even Piccolo—all fell.
If they lost, humanity would be wiped out,
the Earth sold to the highest bidder.
And then—Goku returned.
Still the same dependable idiot.
Through sheer will, he defeated Vegeta in a fight that nearly killed him.
He survived, but only barely—
his body broken, unable to move.
When Bulma and the others reached the battlefield,
Chi-Chi cared only for the scratches on Gohan,
never sparing a glance at her unconscious husband,
scolding him instead for letting a child fight.
She even said she didn't care if the whole planet exploded.
Many of them thought she'd gone too far.
Goku had done nothing wrong—he'd saved the world.
Yet she treated him like a fool.
Even Yajirobe couldn't hold back his anger,
grumbling that someone ought to knock some sense into her.
In the end, it was Bulma who took care of Goku.
Chi-Chi busied herself with tutoring Gohan,
while Bulma stayed by Goku's bedside for days,
knowing he hated needles,
staying up late just to keep him company.
But she never said a word—
not to Chi-Chi, not to Goku.
She knew him too well.
He never wasted brainpower on anything outside of battle.
Even lying there, half-dead,
his mind was replaying every moment of his fight with Vegeta.
Later came the journey to Planet Namek,
Frieza's arrival with King Cold,
and once again, Goku saving the universe.
As long as Goku existed, there was hope.
His very presence made the world feel safe.
Until the day came when even the strongest man in the universe
was killed by something as small as a heart disease.
The Earth couldn't survive without Goku.
The Z Fighters all perished.
Humanity burned in endless war.
The planet fell into ruin.
She could still remember—
Gohan, his arm severed, whispering with his last breath:
"If only Dad were here..."