Chapter 7

The Son Family

All was serene as Gohan strolled down his normal path. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, bathing the forest in light and warmth. The only sounds were of small creatures chattering and leaves crunching under Gohan's feet. One might've thought this no different from his usual walks.

That would've been true were he not being followed.

Gohan's senses were alert, though he couldn't discern his pursuer's position—they were masking their presence well. No doubt they lay in wait for the perfect moment to strike. From where would they attack? Gohan couldn't be sure. Regardless, he'd be ready when they did.

Leaves rustled in the trees behind him—it was time.

Gohan spun around and raised his arm to block the strike. The kick was stopped, and he shoved the attacker to the side. They briefly skidded along the ground before bouncing to their feet and shooting Gohan a grin.

"A decent attempt at an ambush, Kakarot," Gohan said. "Too bad you weren't just a tad quieter at the end there."

Kakarot laughed and cracked his knuckles. "Don't think I'm through yet, Grandpa! I'm just getting started!"

Gohan smiled and assumed his fighting stance. "Come, then!"

With a fierce cry, Kakarot charged. Gohan blocked his punch, then followed up with a roundhouse kick. The boy ducked under it before throwing a knife-hand strike, which Gohan parried just in time. This pattern of attack, defense, and counterattack continued for some time, neither combatant gaining an edge. With every second, their exchange of blows intensified. Punches, kicks, chops, knees, elbows—all blocked, dodged, or parried with lightning speed and precision, and all seen by Gohan with perfect clarity.

Kakarot's technique was superb.

Superb, but not perfect.

At one point, the boy overextended his attack, allowing Gohan to grab his arm. He hurled Kakarot over his shoulder and high into the air. With a swift motion, the old master reached into the holder on his back and pulled out a short red staff.

"Extend, Nyoibō!"

The staff quickly grew to several meters long. He swung it in a downward strike and slammed Kakarot into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. After Nyoibō shrank back to its normal size, Gohan pressed his attack: he leapt forward with the staff raised over his head. Recovering from his daze, Kakarot rolled to the side as the weapon pounded the dirt. He jumped to his feet and kicked Nyoibō from Gohan's hands, and the two began to once more trade blows.

Not once during the fight had Kakarot stopped smiling. Truly, he was in his element.

The young Saiyan jumped and reared his legs back for a double kick. When Gohan raised his arms to block, Kakarot used them as a springboard to launch himself backward, backflipping before landing some distance away. He then cupped his hands and drew them to his side.

"Kame … hame …"

The boy's hands started to glow with ki.

Trying to best me with that move, are you?

This couldn't go unchallenged. Gohan copied Kakarot, beginning to charge his own attack. After a few seconds of the two fighters concentrating their ki, they both thrust their arms forward and shouted: "HA!" From Gohan's hands shot a brilliant whitish-blue ki beam, whose roar engulfed the air. The child simultaneously fired his Kamehameha, and, midway between the combatants, the beams met head-on. The collision's dazzling light forced Gohan to squint.

As their attacks struggled against each other, ki slowly built up at the point of contact. The energy concentration grew larger and brighter by the second, making it even harder to see. Finally, it became too much: a small explosion shook the air, and Gohan used his forearm to shield his eyes. When the blast dissipated, he resumed his fighting stance, ready for Kakarot's next …

He wasn't there.

Where did he—

A furry tail wrapped around his ankle. Gohan yelped as his foot was yanked from under him, and his face promptly collided with the dirt. He flipped over, only to see one end of Nyoibō pointed at him. Kakarot held the staff with a triumphant grin.

"Looks like I win, Grandpa!" he said cheerfully.

Gohan returned the smile. "Nicely done, Kakarot. Clever of you to sneak behind me while I was blinded."

"Thanks! I didn't know if that was actually gonna work. Wasn't really planning when I did it—just sorta going with my gut."

Kakarot's ingenuity never ceased to amaze. While Gohan would need to hold back during their spars—the boy was only six and had a relatively small reserve of ki—his grandson's sheer aptitude had been obvious from the start. He was even able to learn Muten Roshi's most powerful technique: the Kamehameha. Typically, the move took fifty years to master.

To say Gohan had been shocked when Kakarot performed it on his first try would be putting it mildly.

"I'd say your instincts served you well," Gohan said. "Now, can you do an old man a favor and help me up?"

"Sure thing!" Kakarot reached out a hand and lifted his Grandpa to his feet, then extended Nyoibō toward him. "You can have this back, by the way."

Gohan took the staff and slid it into its holder. "Much appreciated."

Kakarot stretched his arms. "Ah, nothing beats a good ol' sparring match right after breakfast! I just wish Mom was out here too."

"So do I, Kakarot. So do I."

"I still don't get why she's been too tired to train with us lately. You sure she's not sick?"

"No, it's not that." If only it were so simple.

"Well, what's the matter, then?"

"Don't fret over it, my boy. Just give her a few more days, and I'm sure she'll be back to her usual self." That was all they'd had to do last year. And the year before that.

"I sure hope so; training's not the same when Mom's not around." Gohan couldn't disagree. "Anyhow, now that we're done sparring, what's next?"

"Well, ordinarily, your homeschooling schedule would have you doing math today." Kakarot's expression turned glum—if there was one subject he hated above all others, it was math. "But, since it's your birthday, I think it's alright for you to take the day off."

The young Saiyan raised his arms and jumped for joy. "Woohoo!"

"What's more, you have a treat waiting for you when we get back home. Remember that dinosaur your mother caught the other day—the one we've been keeping in the smokehouse for a special occasion?"

Kakarot's eyes became saucers. "That's for me?"

"Indeed it is. We'll start a fire, cook it up, and then you can have as much of it as your stomach can handle." Knowing Kakarot's eating habits, that probably meant most of it.

The boy bounced in glee with a smile wide enough to break his face. "Oh boy, oh boy, I get to eat a dinosaur! I can't wait! Let's go, let's go—what're we standing around here for?"

The old master laughed. "I suppose there's no sense in keeping you waiting. Come on."

As Gohan turned to walk home, Kakarot suddenly leapt onto his back, wrapping his arms around his Grandpa's shoulders. "How 'bout a piggyback ride?"

With one look at his grandson's joyful face, Gohan knew he couldn't say no. "Sure, why not?"

Gine wasn't getting out of bed.

She lay on one side with her back to the door, a position she'd been in for a while. Her only movement was the rise and fall of her chest as she stared blankly at the wall. Save for her breathing, the room was quiet—all she had were her thoughts. Too bad they couldn't be silenced.

She had no energy to do anything. She didn't want to do anything.

Everything felt … empty.

It'd been this way the past few days. She'd spend all her time in bed, only leaving her room to wash or relieve herself. Gohan brought her food, but her usual hefty appetite had dwindled—she couldn't even finish a full plate. What's more, Gine missed her morning training sessions with Gohan and Kakarot. She hoped that didn't make her son too upset.

Even while she was awake, the nightmares clung to her mind. Loss. Death. Laughter like icy needles.

There was a knock on the door. "It's unlocked," Gine said. She heard the door creak open, followed by the tapping of footsteps approaching the bed. Her eyes drifted to Gohan as he sat next to her. "How was training?"

"It went well," Gohan said. "Kakarot and I sparred for a bit. He beat me, actually."

She looked at the wall again. "That's nice." Silence hung in the air for a solid minute. "Did he say anything about me not being there?"

"He misses you training with us. Said it's not the same without you."

Gine groaned and buried her face in her pillow. "Damn it, I'm such a mess."

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

"It's pathetic, though—what kind of mother lies in bed and mopes on her son's birthday?"

Gohan rested a hand on her shoulder. "You can't blame yourself for the way you're feeling right now. I certainly don't; we both know what happened today."

She sighed. "I know I should be happier for him right now. I wish I could be—I really do—but … I just …"

"I know."

Every year. Why did this have to happen every single year? Kakarot meant the world to her—she should've been celebrating his birthday.

But this was the day she'd lost everything.

"Mom?"

Gine looked up from the pillow; Kakarot was next to the bed, concern plastered over his face. Even now, she couldn't help but marvel at how big he was getting. His familiar face and spiky hair, though, still hadn't changed.

Gods, he looks so much like Bardock.

She managed a small smile. "Hey there, kiddo," she said weakly.

"Are you okay?" Kakarot asked.

Her smile faded, and she looked away. "No, not really." He'd already noticed—no point lying.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't really talk about it, sweetie. I'm just … I've been feeling down lately."

Kakarot placed a hand on her arm. "Well, Grandpa's about to cook up that dinosaur for my lunch. You can have some if that'll cheer you up."

Gine's gaze turned back to her son, who wore a sad smile and pleading eyes. It pricked her heart—Kakarot just wanted his mother to spend time with him on his special day. He was even willing to give her some of his birthday meal. How could she say no to him?

She couldn't. She wasn't the least bit hungry, but she owed him this much.

Gine smiled slightly again. "Sounds great."

Kakarot's face lit up. "Yippee!" he exclaimed, bouncing excitedly. "C'mon, I can't eat a whole dinosaur by myself!" Gine chuckled despite herself.

He can damn well come close.

With a Herculean effort, Gine managed to drag herself out of bed, get dressed, and trudge outside. The dinosaur she'd caught and butchered last week—right before her current depressive bout—was being roasted on a spit over a large fire by Gohan. Kakarot briefly stopped salivating to smile and wave at his mother. That lifted her spirits a bit. Once the meat was cooked and allowed to cool, the boy yanked it from the spit and ripped off a giant rib, handing it to Gine. They all sat around the fire, and, while Gine nibbled on her food, Kakarot tore into his meal like a starving animal.

"His appetite still never ceases to amaze me," Gohan said.

Gine shrugged. "He's a growing boy," she said before taking a small bite of her rib. She still wasn't particularly hungry, but she had to admit Gohan had cooked the meat to perfection. After chewing and swallowing, Gine turned to her son. "So, Kakarot, Grandpa said you beat him in a spar this morning. Is that right?" He tried to speak, but his words were completely muffled by food. "Don't talk with your mouth full, sweetie."

Kakarot swallowed. "Sorry, Mom," he said with a grin. "And yeah, I did! I wish you could've seen it; it was so awesome!"

Gine had a twinge of guilt, though Kakarot's glee stopped her mood from sinking further. "I'll bet. How'd you manage to get a win on him?"

"Well, I tried sneaking up on him at first, but he heard me coming, so that didn't work. We fought back and forth, he came at me with Nyoibō, but I kicked it away, and then I used the Kamehameha!"

Gine gave Gohan a teasing smile. "Oh, don't tell me your grandson beat you with your own signature move—that's just embarrassing."

Gohan chortled. "For the record, I'd say it's more Muten Roshi's signature than mine; he invented the technique, after all. And to clarify, Kakarot didn't beat me with it per se: I used my own Kamehameha to counter his, and they collided and exploded. While I was blinded, he used the opening to get behind me and trip me with his tail."

"Look at you, Kakarot, with those slick moves. Way to go, champ." Kakarot's grin widened, and he resumed stuffing his face. "Too bad you don't have a prehensile tail, huh, Gohan? Could've helped you counter that little trick of his—grab him when he was behind you or something like that."

"Well, one can't have everything."

Kakarot abruptly stopped eating, his eyes widening in realization. He swallowed his mouthful of meat and turned to Gohan. "Hey, Grandpa," he said, "whatever happened to your tail?"

Gine's brain came to a screeching halt.

Oh no, not this.

Gohan looked mildly surprised. "My … tail?"

"Yeah, where'd it go?" Kakarot asked. "Did yours get cut off, or did you just lose it because you got old? Because I like my tail, and I don't want it to fall off when I turn into an old-timer."

Gohan chuckled. "You needn't worry about that. Truth is, I wasn't born with a tail like you and your mother; most people I know don't actually have them."

Kakarot raised an eyebrow. "Really? Huh. Mom, how come we have tails, then?"

Gine's heart started to race. "That's, ah … th-that's a g-good question, sweetie," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "Um … well … listen, c-can we talk about this some other time?"

"Why can't you tell me now?"

Because the answer would only lead to more questions—ones she couldn't answer without tears. It was Kakarot's birthday; he didn't need that.

Gine's eyes darted downward. "Because … because I can't. I'm sorry, but today's really not a good day."

"If I may," Gohan said, "this is something we need to explain to him at some point. Perhaps it's best to do so while the question's on his mind."

"Does it seriously have to be now? I'm not prepared to have this conversation!"

"M-Mom, please don't get upset," Kakarot said nervously. "I-I didn't mean to—"

Gine's gaze shot back to her son. "No, no, no, you're fine, you're fine! You just … you caught me off guard is all. I-I don't know if I'd be able to explain everything." How much could she reasonably tell him? Should she bring up the Saiyans' brutal past? Did she dare divulge her past?

Could she keep her composure if she told him what'd happened on his birthday?

"You should at least tell him the basics," Gohan said. "He's old enough to know his heritage."

Basics … just the basics would be fine. She didn't have to tell Kakarot everything—there were things she could likely never tell him—but he deserved to know where he came from.

"Okay," Gine said, setting her food down and patting her thigh, "c'mere." Kakarot went over and sat in her lap. He looked up at her expectantly, melting her with his innocent smile. "You remember from your books what planets are, right?"

"Yeah," Kakarot said, "they're these really big balls of rock that fly around stars. Earth's a planet, and the star it goes around is the sun!"

"Exactly. And you know that there are loads of planets orbiting stars all over the universe, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, we're actually not from Earth; we came here from another planet right after you were born."

Kakarot's jaw dropped. "Whoa, really? We're aliens?"

"That's right. Our people are called Saiyans, and our home planet—where you were born—was Planet Vegeta. And yes, all Saiyans are born with tails, which is why you and I have them and Grandpa doesn't."

"Wow, I can't believe I've been an alien this whole time! That's so cool!" The wonder in his face suddenly turned to confusion. "Hey, how come we left our old planet, anyway?"

Damn it, why'd it have to be that question?

"That's … th-that's hard for me to talk about," Gine said. "S-sorry, but I'd rather not get into it."

Kakarot wore a concerned expression. "Did … something bad happen?"

"Kakarot, please, drop it! I can't do this right now!" He winced, his face crumpling in remorse. Gine was immediately filled with guilt. "I-I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't mean to snap at you. I … I don't like remembering what happened."

A hand rested on her shoulder, and she swiveled her head to see Gohan looking at her with sympathy. "I don't mean to pressure you," he said, "but … maybe talking about it will help."

"A-are you sure? I … I don't know if I can … if he should even hear what … well …"

"He can handle it. You should tell him, for both your sakes."

Gine closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

Just try not to cry.

She faced her son again. "There was this man named Freeza. A really bad man. One day—and I still don't know exactly why—he decided he didn't like the Saiyans very much. So he …" She swallowed. "He told them all to come back home to Planet Vegeta, and then … then he …"

"Mom," Kakarot said, "are you gonna be okay?"

Don't cry.

"I'm fine, sweetie," Gine said. "Freeza … he destroyed the planet. Blew it up while everyone was on it."

Kakarot gasped and covered his mouth, his eyes widening in horror. "He k-killed everybody?"

Gine's head tilted down. "He did."

"B-but wh-what about us? Wh-why didn't we die too?"

Her eyes became wet.

Don't. Cry.

"Your father found out what Freeza was gonna do," Gine said, choking back tears. "After he warned me, he told me I needed to get you off the planet. I ran to the nursery, grabbed you, and then we both got in a space pod and flew off. While that was going on, your father … h-he went to distract Freeza a-and his troops, and …"

Her breathing grew labored as tears slid down her cheeks.

Don't cry, damn it!

Kakarot flung his arms around her, making her flinch. His voice was laced with sorrow: "I'm really sorry, Mom."

Her defenses crumbled—Gine returned the hug and buried her face in her son's shoulder. "If it wasn't for him, there's no way we would've gotten off Vegeta in one piece; he died saving us!"

She no longer tried to suppress her sobs. For a minute or two, her crying was the only noise anyone made. Kakarot held her all the while, her tears dampening his blue gi. Gradually, her bawls subsided into whimpers.

"I'm so sorry for being such a wreck on your birthday," Gine said, "but … what happened with Planet Vegeta … with your father … I can't get it out of my head."

"It's okay, Mom." Kakarot rubbed her back in a comforting gesture.

"It wasn't just him, either. A close friend of mine was killed by Freeza's men right before Vegeta was destroyed. There was also your brother, Raditz. Best I know, he wasn't there when the planet blew up, but they had to have hunted him down afterward. It was horrible. Everything I knew, everyone I loved … it was all gone, just like that. The only thing I had left was you.

"Kakarot, there aren't enough words to express how much you mean to me. You being here is what's kept me going all these years. Without you, I … I don't even wanna think about what I would've done. I love you, son—more than anything."

"I love you too."

His words were a salve for her wounded heart. Gine smiled—she still had her dark days, sure, but they wouldn't be the end of her. So long as she had Kakarot, everything would be okay.

She pulled out of the hug and looked her son in the eyes; they were moist. "Hey now," she said, "don't cry. There's no reason for you to be sad." She gently wiped away his tears. "It's your birthday; I'd hate for it to turn all gloomy because of me."

"It's fine, I'll be okay." Kakarot stared downward, seemingly in thought.

"Something wrong, kiddo?"

"I was just wondering … till now, you've never really talked about Dad. I mean, I knew he died when I was little, but that was it. Can you … tell me what he was like?"

What could Gine say about Bardock? It pained her to admit it, but he'd in some ways been an awful person. Aside from his apathy toward his children—a particularly sore spot for her—he was like most Saiyans: a ruthless and brutal killer. While the people Gine killed tormented her in her sleep, Bardock reveled in the slaughter. He'd usually be the one in front during battles, bashing through enemies that often couldn't put up the smallest fight. The more time went on, the more she was sickened by it.

Yet she'd loved him. Hell, she still loved him.

Was it really surprising Bardock had turned out that way? Every facet of his upbringing emphasized killing and conquest; he and the other Saiyans never had the chance to know anything else. Maybe he could've been different. If he'd been raised away from that culture, he might've become a much gentler soul—much like Kakarot now was. Gine had been with Bardock enough to know there was more to him than bloodlust. Several parts of his personality were admirable—noble, even.

She could pass those on to Kakarot—the parts of Bardock worth remembering.

"For starters, you look just like him," Gine said. "Right down to that crazy hair." She tousled her boy's hair, making him giggle. "Besides that, Bardock was probably the most loyal person I ever met. I'll admit he wasn't the easiest to get close to, but, once you did, he had your back no matter what. He'd be the first to jump in when one of his friends was in danger. He never hesitated—not once."

Boy, do I know that all too well.

"Bardock was stern, and he could be a bit too blunt sometimes, but he was also brave, a skilled fighter, a clever tactician, and a natural leader. I think what attracted me to him the most, though, was how … tenacious he was."

Kakarot stared at her blankly. "Uhhh …"

Gine laughed. "Sorry. I mean he never gave up, no matter the odds. He was somebody that would face a seemingly hopeless situation head-on and say, 'Bring it!' Granted, that got him sent to the med bay a lot of the time, but it also earned him wins nobody else in his shoes would've thought possible."

"Dad sounds so cool! Was he really strong, too?"

"He sure was—definitely the strongest Saiyan I ever knew."

"Even stronger than you and Grandpa?"

Gine grinned. "Oh yeah—way stronger than me and Grandpa."

Kakarot's eyes filled with awe. "Wow!"

"No matter how powerful he got, though, he always strove to get even stronger. He was constantly pushing himself." She snickered. "Sometimes a little too much. I often wondered if he thought that, through sheer effort, he could become a Super Saiyan."

Her son raised his eyebrow. "Super Saiyan? What's that?"

"Oh, it's just an old legend. In ancient times, there were supposedly a rare few Saiyans that could break through their limits and gain incredible power. According to those stories, the Super Saiyans were the strongest warriors in the universe."

"Whoa, awesome! I wanna be a Super Saiyan!"

Gine giggled and brought Kakarot in for another hug. "Hey, for what it's worth, you'll always be one in my book."

"I mean it, Mom! I'll train really, really hard, get really strong, I'll be a Super Saiyan, and then I'll beat up Freeza for you!"

Her breath caught in her throat—her arms firmly tightened around her boy. The thought of him coming face-to-face with Freeza …

No, she wouldn't even think about it.

She breathed deeply and ran her fingers through her son's hair. Her nerves calmed. "You don't ever have to worry about Freeza," she said. "He can't hurt us anymore; he's far away and has no idea we're here."

"But … but he killed Dad. And my brother, and everyone else. And he made you really sad. Wouldn't someone beating him up make you happy?"

"Sweetie, I have you. I don't need anything else to make me happy. I appreciate the thought—I really do—but please, please promise me you'll never go looking for Freeza." A brief silence. She spoke again, more forcefully: "Promise me."

"O-okay, Mom. I promise."

Gine breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"I still wanna get really strong, though. You think I can get as strong as Dad one day?"

"I see no reason you can't," Gohan said. "You've an avid drive to better yourself, and you're a wellspring of raw talent. There's great potential in you, my boy—if you set your mind to it, I have no doubt you'll become capable of great things."

"Yeah!" Kakarot pulled out of Gine's hug and jumped to his feet. His fists clenched, and his expression was one of determination. "There's no way I'm stopping! I'll train as much as I can, as hard as I can, and I'll keep going until I'm just as strong as Dad!"

This gave Gine pause. Was it possible for Kakarot to get that strong? At the time of his death, Bardock's power level had been nearly ten-thousand—such a thing was practically unheard of among Saiyans born low-class. It seemed far beyond what she could dream of, let alone her son born with a battle power of just two.

But she couldn't deny Kakarot's resolve. That fire in his eyes … she'd seen it so many times from Bardock.

He's his father's son, alright.

"I'm sure you'll do him proud," Gine said.

"You've already come quite far," Gohan said, walking up to Kakarot, "especially for someone of your age. Which is why I think you're ready to have this." He pulled Nyoibō's holder off his back, then extended it toward his grandson.

The boy gaped. "You're giving me Nyoibō?"

"It's served me well for many years, and I believe it's time for me to pass it on. Consider it a Son family heirloom."

Kakarot beamed as he took the staff. "Alright! I promise I'll take good care of it, Grandpa!"

"That's a nice gift, Gohan," Gine said, standing. "I don't know if you could really call it a 'Son' heirloom, though, since me and Kakarot don't have your family name."

Her son appeared confused. "Why don't we? We're family, right?"

Realization washed over Gohan's face, and his lips curled up in a grin. "You know, Kakarot, you make a very good point."

Gine's mind stuttered for a moment—was he implying what she thought he was? "H-hold up, you're not really suggesting … y-you want me and Kakarot to …" She started rubbing her arm. "You want us to take your family name?"

"Are we not family?"

"O-of course we are! I mean, not by blood, obviously, but … well …" She sighed. "Ever since we pretty much landed on your doorstep, you've always been there for us. You took us in, gave us a home, treated a pair of aliens like your own kin. All these years, you've been such an amazing granddad to Kakarot, and …" Gine's eyes drifted toward the ground. "Y-you've been like a father to me. Way more than my real father ever was."

Gohan walked over and placed a hand on her arm. "Just so you know, I don't think I could've asked for a better daughter."

Gine's eyes moistened again. Gohan's admission wasn't surprising—they'd been close for so long—but it was different hearing it out loud. Something that, until now, she hadn't realized she needed. She owed this man so much: he'd given her and her child a home, taught her to control her power, filled the void left by those Freeza had taken from her.

And he hadn't condemned her when she confessed to being a mass murderer. Gohan saw good in her, even when she refused to see it in herself.

He was family. Now he wanted to make it official.

With her lips curled upward and tears stinging her eyes, she lunged forward and hugged Gohan. There were no words—she didn't need any.

"Group hug!" Kakarot exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his caregivers. This was pure bliss.

Everything will be okay.

" 'Son Gine,' " she said. "Heh. Y'know, it's got a nice ring to it."

"That makes me 'Son Kakarot,' right?" her son asked.

"Indeed it does, grandson," Gohan said joyfully.

"Neat!" Kakarot left the hug, then pulled Nyoibō from its holder and raised it over his head. "Anyway, now I really wanna try this out!"

"Now, be careful with that," Gine said. "You don't wanna break any—"

"Extend, Nyoibō!"

The staff rapidly extended … straight toward the hut's window. Nyoibō punched through it, sending glass shards flying. Kakarot's face was a picture of sheer embarrassment.

"Ummm … oops."

It was some time before Gine stopped laughing.

Author's Note (January 18, 2020): And so concludes the pre-Dragon Ball portion of the story. Next chapter will see everybody's favorite blue-haired girl genius making her first appearance.

I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I have a oneshot currently in the pipeline based on another MasakoX What If. Which one, you may ask? You'll have to stay tuned to find out. The bad news is that this means the next chapter for this story will take longer to come out. I know that says a lot considering my slow rate of updates, but bear with me because this short story I've got coming up is something I really wanted to do.

Some of you probably noticed that this fic has a new title: instead of Dragon Ball G&K, the story is now called Dragon Ball Okan. I changed it because I felt G&K was slightly uncreative, being too similar to R&R but without having that title's clever double-meaning ("rest & relaxation," "Raditz & Ranch," you see where I'm getting at?). "Okan" is a shortened slang version of "okaasan," which is the Japanese word for "mother," so I thought it was fitting.

To accompany this name change, I commissioned Nexus Mania (a freelance artist who also works on Dragon Ball R&R) for some new cover art, and, I must say, he did a fantastic job. If you'd like to see some of this guy's other work and/or perhaps commission some awesome art for yourself, check him out on Twitter.

Also, for those wondering, I did change my name on this website from "Lord Tyrannus" to "N7Spartan95," which is the handle I go by elsewhere on the Internet. I like consistency—what can I say?

Please review.