Gokus Second Son

The fight with Raditz was a day old, bruises still fresh in my mind as I slipped out of the house. I'd spared him—crushed his scouter, smashed his ship, but left him breathing. Now he was holed up in my room, a hulking shadow sulking on my spare mat, while Goku fussed over Gohan's cuts with that dumb grin. Chi-Chi had nearly popped a vein when she saw him—bloody kids and a battered giant crashing in her home. My hair spiked wild in the morning breeze, Raditz's broken scouter rattling in my pocket—cracked lens, frayed wires, dented frame. Vegeta's a year out. Time to stack the odds. I wasn't here for warm fuzzies—I needed Bulma safe, tied to us, ready.

Capsule Corp loomed ahead, all sleek steel and curves I'd burned into my brain from a screen. Bulma—richest woman alive, sharper than a blade—was inside. Chi-Chi's best friend, and she never asks for a cent. Gohan doesn't need to slave over books with her around. I never got why Mom pushed Gohan to be a scholar when Bulma could buy him a life—or us a damn army. Pride, maybe, or just stubbornness. Me? I wanted her tech, her mind, her survival. I knocked, and the door swung open.

Bulma stood there, blue hair a tangle, wrench in one hand, oil smeared on her cheek. She blinked down at me, then broke into a grin that could've lit the street. "Well, aren't you the cutest little guy I've ever seen! Goku's kid, right? Which one are you?"

"Gotex," I said, voice flat, sidestepping the cute crap. Five years old, and I'm still stuck with this. "Got something for you."

Her eyes lit up, and she crouched to my level, elbows on her knees. "Oh? A gift from the toughest tyke around? You're already more interesting than Yamcha whining about his batting average. What's your name again?"

"Gotex," I said, sharper. "This isn't a game."

She laughed, loud and bright, ruffling my hair. "Gotex, huh? You're adorable! But that edge—wow, you're intense for a kid. Smarter than most adults I deal with, too. What's the deal?"

I pulled the scouter's remains from my pocket and dropped it into her hands. "It's busted. Fix it. Make it better."

She turned it over, frowning, then gasped, nearly dropping her wrench. "Whoa, hold up—this is alien tech! Where'd you snag this, little man?"

"Raditz," I said, cool. "Goku's brother. He's alive, staying with us—in my room. That's his."

Bulma's grin slipped, shifting to wide-eyed curiosity. "Raditz? The big lug who crashed yesterday? Goku called me—said it was some crazy family reunion. He's in your room? What's he like? Total meathead?"

"Big," I said. "Grumpy. Lost a fight. Begged to stay."

She whistled, low, poking at the scouter. "Begged, huh? Sounds like Goku's charm—or maybe you scared him straight. Staying in your room, though? That's wild. Chi-Chi must be losing her mind!"

"She yelled," I said, dry. "A lot. He's still there."

Bulma laughed, clapping her hands. "Oh, I bet she did! She's got that temper—probably wanted to broom him out the door! This thing's a power reader, right? Fried to bits, though. What's your angle, Gotex?"

I crossed my arms, hair shadowing my face. "You can't sense ki. That's a gap. Vegeta's coming—stronger than Raditz, maybe a year out. I want you protected. Fix it to read higher. Old limit was 9,000."

She blinked, then burst out laughing, clapping my shoulder. "Protect me? You're too cute! But damn, you're sharp—way sharper than other kids your age. Nine thousand's nothing if this Vegeta's a monster. Why's it matter to you?"

"You're rich," I said, blunt. "Richest woman alive. You've got tech, brains. If something happens, you're a target. I need you safe."

Bulma tilted her head, smirking. "Rich, huh? You've been paying attention. Most kids don't notice—or care. You're not wrong—Capsule Corp's a money machine. I've got more cash than I can spend. But safe? That's a new one. Chi-Chi never asks me for help—always harping about Gohan's studies instead of, y'know, a job or a handout."

I shrugged. "Never got that. Gohan doesn't need to be a scholar with you around. She's stubborn."

She laughed again, softer, leaning back. "Oh, she's a fortress of pride. Wants Gohan to earn his way, not ride my wallet. Drives me up the wall—she could've asked for a private island by now! Me, I'd spoil you all rotten if she'd let me. But you—you're different. What's this really about, cutie?"

"Connection," I said, voice steady. "You're family to Goku. If the Saiyans hit, you're in it—fighting or not. That scouter keeps you ahead."

Her smirk faded, eyes narrowing as she studied me. "You're not just cute—you're scary smart. Okay, I'm sold. This thing's a goldmine—power levels, huh? I can tweak the sensors, boost the frequency range. Nine thousand's its cap now, but I'll make it handle more—way more. Give me a week, tops."

"Make it tough, too," I said, nodding. It's gotta hold up. She's too key. "Can't break easy."

Bulma winked, twirling the scouter. "Oh, I'll make it a tank—unbreakable, sleek, the works. You're a little boss, Gotex. Keeping Goku in line, I bet?"

"He's fine," I muttered. "Just get it done."

She grinned, leaning forward. "Deal! You're too adorable to turn down. Stick around—want a soda? I've got snacks while I poke at this thing. Maybe a burger? You're skinny—Chi-Chi feeding you enough?"

I shook my head. "Gotta get back. Stuff to handle."

"Stuff, huh?" She tapped the scouter, thoughtful. "Raditz in your room—what's that like? Big bad brother turned houseguest? Spill it—I'm dying to know!"

"Tall. Grumpy," I said, dry. "Snores. Lost a fight. That's it."

Bulma snorted, covering her mouth. "Snores? Oh, that's gold! Lost a fight to you, huh? Goku's gotta be laughing his head off. What'd you hit him with?"

"Fist," I said, flat. That's all she gets.

She laughed again, loud enough to bounce off the walls. "Fist! You're a riot, Gotex. Okay, mystery man, I'll get this humming. Tell Goku to swing by when it's ready—I might throw in a spare for you, too. You sure you don't want one?"

"Keep it," I said. "You need it more."

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Protecting me again? Fine, I'll take it. But you're sticking around next time—I wanna hear more about this Raditz mess. What's Goku feeding you kids to make you so tough?"

"Rice," I deadpanned. "Meat stew. Works."

Bulma cackled, clutching her sides. "Rice and stew! Oh, you're killing me! Chi-Chi's secret weapon, huh? Alright, I'll cook this up—top priority. You're too cute, Gotex—don't be a stranger! Capsule Corp's always open for little geniuses like you."

I turned to go, hair whipping in the wind. "Just finish it. Fast."

"Bossy!" she called after me, voice teasing. "I love it! Tell Goku I said hi—and Chi-Chi better not kill me for spoiling you! Oh, and tell Raditz to stop snoring in your room—get him a pillow or something!"