The island hosting the World Martial Arts Tournament had always been lively, but today it felt different-heavier, louder, overflowing with energy that crackled through the air like static before a storm.
Boats crowded the shoreline. Vendors shouted over one another. Colorful banners snapped in the sea breeze. Thousands upon thousands of spectators packed the island, voices blending into a constant roar of excitement.
At the edge of the crowd stood a familiar group-warriors who had saved the world more times than anyone here would ever know.
Goten stood among them, small compared to most, his red hair catching the sunlight. To the crowd, he was just another excited child attending the tournament. To the people beside him, he was Son Goku's youngest son.
And to himself-
He was a boy who had waited seven years for a moment that might never come.
Krillin shaded his eyes, peering over the crowd.
"Wow... it's so crowded here."
Bulma crossed her arms, already irritated. "Yeah. This is going to be annoying."
Yamcha scanned the area instinctively, as if searching for a familiar presence he already knew was missing.
"So... where's Goku?"
The name lingered in the air for half a second.
Then-
The crowd screamed.
Not cheers. Panic.
People suddenly began running in one direction, shouting, tripping over one another, cameras flashing wildly as if a celebrity had descended from the heavens.
Goten's head snapped toward the commotion.
His eyes narrowed.
His body stiffened.
Standing at the center of the chaos, soaking in attention like a sponge, was a man with a massive afro, a thick mustache, and a grin full of arrogance.
Hercule Satan.
The so-called "World Champion."
The so-called "Hero who defeated Cell."
Goten's fingers curled into fists.
Seven years ago, while the Z Fighters were battling Cell with their lives on the line-while his father pushed himself beyond death itself-this man had hidden behind rocks, shaking in fear.
Goku had sacrificed everything.
His life.
His future.
Seven years of watching his younger son grow up.
Goku had chosen the world over himself. Over his family. Over the unborn child he would never get to hold.
And when it was all over-
This man had taken the credit.
Fame.
Money.
Adoration.
All built on a lie.
Goten had grown up hearing stories about his father. About the battle with Cell. About the moment the sky itself seemed to break as Goku vanished in a blinding flash of light.
He had grown up knowing that his father died a hero.
And every time he saw Hercule Satan on television, smiling and boasting-
Something dark twisted inside him.
If Goten were just a normal child... if he hadn't been reincarnated with memories of another life... he might have inherited Goku's boundless forgiveness.
But he wasn't.
And he didn't.
So this is you... Mr. Satan, Goten thought coldly.
I'll be waiting for you in the arena.
Yamcha let out a tired sigh. "Looks like Satan still hasn't changed."
Goten didn't reply aloud.
Oh, he will, he thought.
Chi-Chi crossed her arms tightly, her expression sharp. "I don't care about him. Where is Goku?"
Her voice carried something deeper than anger-something unresolved. Something that had lived in her chest for seven long years.
Like Goten, she had never forgiven Hercule Satan.
She never would.
Then-
A voice rang out from above.
Bright. Familiar. Impossible.
"Hey, guys!!!"
The world seemed to stop.
Everyone except Goten snapped their heads upward.
"GOKU!!!"
Goku hovered in the air, smiling wide, halo gleaming above his head as sunlight reflected off it. His orange gi fluttered gently in the wind, as if he had never left at all.
"How are you all doing?" he laughed. "Wow-you guys changed a lot!"
Chi-Chi's breath hitched.
"Goku...!"
"Are you all just gonna keep staring at me?" he asked sheepishly.
The next second, chaos erupted.
Everyone rushed him at once.
Krillin nearly tackled him. Yamcha shouted his name. Bulma yelled something half-angry, half-relieved. Even Piccolo stood closer than usual, arms crossed but eyes softer than they had been in years.
For a brief moment, Goku was buried under embraces, laughter, voices overlapping in disbelief.
For a brief moment-
Everything felt whole again.
Then, as the excitement settled, Goku's eyes shifted.
He looked past Chi-Chi.
And froze.
"There's... a mini me behind you," he said slowly, blinking. "With red hair."
Chi-Chi turned.
Goten stood there, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands, his feet, his heart pounding so loudly he thought everyone could hear it.
Chi-Chi smiled gently, tears already forming.
"Goten," she said softly, "say hello to your father."
Goten took a step forward.
Then another.
This was the moment he had imagined a thousand times. While sleeping. While training. While listening to Gohan's stories late at night.
Gohan and the others had known Goku was coming today.
But Goten-
Goten had known something else.
He had known this moment mattered more than anything.
Goku knelt slightly, lowering himself to Goten's height. His smile softened.
"Hello there," he said warmly. "I'm Goku. You can call me... Dad."
That was all it took.
Goten ran.
He slammed into Goku's chest, arms wrapping around him as tightly as his small body allowed.
"DAD!!!"
Goku hugged him back instantly, holding him as if afraid the boy might disappear.
"I missed you so much," Goten choked.
Goku knelt down in front of Goten, his usual carefree smile softening into something quieter, something uncertain. Up close, the resemblance was undeniable-the shape of the face, the eyes, even the way Goten stood, trying to be brave while his heart raced far faster than his body allowed.
"I'm... sorry," Goku said at last, the words coming slower than any he had spoken in battle. "I wasn't here before. I should have been. But... I'm here now, aren't I?"
Goten's hands clenched into the fabric of his shirt. For a moment, he didn't answer. Not because he didn't know what to say-but because there was too much.
"You are," Goten finally said, his voice small but steady. "But... only for one day."
That single sentence struck harder than any blow Goku had ever taken.
Goten lifted his head and looked straight at him, eyes shining but stubbornly refusing to spill tears.
"I wanted you to stay," he continued. "For all my birthdays. I wanted you to be there when I learned things. Like... like fishing."
Goku blinked. "Fishing?"
Goten nodded quickly, as if afraid the moment might slip away if he didn't say everything now.
"Gohan said you taught him how to fish in a really fun way," Goten said. "With ki blasts and jumping around and laughing. He said it didn't even feel like learning."
Gohan stiffened.
"I never learned how to fish," Goten admitted quietly. "I thought... one day you'd come back and teach me yourself. So I didn't want anyone else to do it."
Gohan's chest tightened painfully.
A memory surfaced uninvited-himself, years ago, telling Goten about their father by a riverbank. Talking about how Goku had made everything feel like a game. About how learning never felt forced when Dad was around.
He remembered Goten tugging his sleeve afterward.
"Let's do something else."
At the time, Gohan had smiled and thought nothing of it.
Kids lose focus easily, he had assumed.
Now he understood.
Goten hadn't lost interest.
He had been waiting.
Waiting for the same laughter.
The same hands.
The same father.
Goku's hands trembled slightly as they rested on his knees.
I saved the world, he thought, guilt flooding his chest like a slow, crushing wave.
But I did it by taking everything from the people who mattered most.
He had chosen the Earth over himself.
But no one had told him how heavy that choice would become.
Chi-Chi stood frozen, her breath shallow as memories she had buried for years rose to the surface.
The day Goten was born.
The silence beside her bed.
The way she had clutched her newborn son while smiling for everyone else, pretending she was strong enough for both parents. The name Goten-Goku's idea-spoken only in her heart, because saying it aloud meant remembering the night they lay together, whispering about their unborn child's future.
Every time she remembered that moment, tears came unbidden.
So she never told anyone.
She never let them see her cry.
Krillin swallowed hard. Bulma looked away, blinking rapidly. Even Vegeta's jaw tightened, eyes narrowing as if he were staring at something far away rather than the scene in front of him.
Everyone had lost something that day.
But Goten had lost someone before he ever had the chance to know him.
Goku bowed his head.
"I thought... if I wasn't around," he said slowly, "the world would be safer. I didn't think about what I was taking from you."
Goten stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Goku's neck.
"You don't have to feel guilty," he said softly. "Gohan told me everything. About Cell. About how you saved everyone."
He pulled back just enough to look into Goku's eyes.
"That's why you're my hero," Goten said with a small smile. "And I'm proud you're my dad."
Goku's breath hitched.
Seven years.
Seven birthdays he wasn't there for.
First steps he never saw.
First words he never heard.
And yet... this child stood before him, kinder and more understanding than he had any right to be.
I missed his entire childhood, Goku realized painfully.
But I don't have to miss his future.
Something firm settled in his chest.
A decision.
Goku knelt fully, then lifted Goten and set him gently onto his shoulders, just as he had once done with Gohan.
"You're incredible," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Way more mature than I deserve."
He looked at Bulma.
"Hey... do you still have the Dragon Balls gathered?"
Bulma froze, then slowly nodded. "Yeah. I do."
"When I go back," Goku said without hesitation, "use them. Wish me back after the tournament."
Shock rippled through the group-followed immediately by understanding.
Chi-Chi covered her mouth, tears finally spilling freely.
Gohan smiled, relief and pride mixing painfully in his chest.
Krillin laughed shakily.
Bulma exhaled, smiling through her own tears.
Goten laughed, bright and pure.
"Really, Dad?"
"Really," Goku said, grinning up at him. "We've got a lot to make up for."
And for the first time since the day the sky swallowed Son Goku-
The future felt whole again.
The World Martial Arts Tournament grounds were alive in a way words could barely capture.
The island itself felt smaller than it should have, swallowed by noise, color, and motion. Vendors shouted over one another, selling fried snacks, souvenirs, and cheap merchandise stamped with the grinning face of a man Goten despised. Banners fluttered in the salty breeze, each one proudly announcing THE GREATEST TOURNAMENT ON EARTH, while thousands of spectators flooded the pathways like an endless tide.
For most of the world, this was celebration.
For the Z Fighters, it was something else entirely.
After the reunion-after the tears, the unspoken guilt, the quiet resolve that had settled into Goku's eyes-the group finally began moving toward the registration area. The moment of stillness had passed. Life, relentless as ever, demanded momentum.
Goten walked slightly ahead of the others, Goku still close, close enough that Goten's shoulders brushed from Goku's leg time to time. The contact was small, almost accidental, yet every time it happened, Goten's steps unconsciously slowed, as if he were afraid the distance might widen again if he wasn't careful.
Goku noticed.
He didn't say anything. He just matched his pace.
Chi-Chi walked a little behind them, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Anyone who didn't know her well might have thought she was simply focused on the path ahead. Gohan, however, could see it clearly-the tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes kept flicking toward Goku and Goten, as if she needed constant reassurance that this wasn't a dream she would wake up from.
Seven years.
Seven years of anger, grief, exhaustion, and forced strength-and now, all of it was colliding with happiness she didn't quite know how to hold without breaking.
Bulma broke the silence first, clapping her hands together sharply.
"Alright, alright," she said, already slipping back into her practical mode. "If we don't hurry, registration's going to be a nightmare. And I really don't want to stand in line longer than I have to."
Krillin snorted. "Too late for that. Look at this place."
He gestured ahead, where dozens of lines snaked around the registration booths. Fighters of every size and shape stood waiting-some stretching confidently, others nervously glancing around as if hoping someone stronger wouldn't notice them.
Yamcha whistled low. "Man... it's been a while since I've seen it like this."
Master Roshi adjusted his sunglasses, his gaze drifting lazily over the crowd before-inevitably-locking onto a group of women passing by.
"Crowded is good," he said cheerfully. "Crowds mean distractions."
Android 18 shot him a flat look.
Krillin sighed. "Please don't get us banned before the tournament even starts."
Despite everything, small laughter rippled through the group. It felt... normal. Comfortingly normal.
Goten glanced up at Goku.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?" Goku replied instantly, as if he'd been waiting for it.
"You said... after this tournament, you'll come back. For real."
Goku nodded, his smile easy-but his eyes were serious. "I meant it."
Goten hesitated. "Then... promise you won't disappear again."
The words were quiet. Not accusing. Not desperate.
Just honest.
Goku stopped walking.
So did everyone else.
He crouched down slightly so he was eye-level with Goten, placing both hands gently on his son's shoulders. The noise of the tournament seemed to fade, muffled by the weight of the moment.
"I promise," Goku said. "No more disappearing."
Goten searched his face-not as a child looking for comfort, but as someone who had learned too early that promises mattered.
Then he nodded.
"That's good," he said softly. "I'll hold you to it."
Goku laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess I better not mess that up, huh?"
They resumed walking.
At the registration booth, reality reasserted itself.
The registrar-a tired-looking man with a clipboard and a practiced smile-looked up as the group approached. His eyes widened almost immediately when he recognized several familiar faces.
"...No way," he muttered.
Krillin leaned in, grinning. "Hey."
The man blinked. "You're-you're really back?"
Goku waved cheerfully. "Hi!"
The registrar swallowed hard, visibly trying to keep his professionalism intact. "A-Alright. Names, divisions-wait."
His gaze dropped to Goten and Trunks.
"...I'm sorry," he said, straightening. "But for safety reasons, children can't participate in the adult division."
Trunks groaned instantly. "Aww, come on!"
Goten's shoulders stiffened.
Krillin, entirely too pleased, pumped a fist. "Yes!"
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"...What?" Krillin said defensively.
Goku chuckled. "Guess that settles it."
The registrar gestured toward a different section of the grounds. "Junior division registration is over there."
Trunks crossed his arms, pouting. "This is such a rip-off."
Goten glanced back toward the adult arena, his eyes lingering just a little longer than necessary. Part of him already knew this would happen-but that didn't make it easier to accept.
Gohan noticed.
He knelt beside Goten. "It's alright," he said gently. "You'll still get to fight."
Goten nodded. "I know."
Trunks glanced sideways at him. "You're thinking about something."
Goten smirked faintly. "Just that I'll win faster this way."
Trunks grinned. "You better. I'm not losing to you again."
They bumped fists-half rivalry, half promise.
As the kids headed toward the junior registration, Goku watched them go, a thoughtful expression settling over his face.
"They grow up fast," he murmured.
Piccolo crossed his arms. "You have no idea."
Inside the arena, the referee spotted them almost immediately.
His eyes went wide.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
He broke into a jog, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed toward them.
"Oh-it is you!" he exclaimed. "All of you!"
Goku and Krillin waved back in unison. "Hey!"
The referee laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I knew it. I knew you'd be back one day. This tournament hasn't been the same without you."
His gaze flicked to Piccolo. "And please-please try not to destroy the ring this time."
Piccolo sighed. "I'll try."
The referee leaned closer to Goku, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Between you and me... everyone says Mr. Satan defeated Cell."
Goku laughed awkwardly, rubbing his cheek.
The referee's eyes gleamed. "Yeah. Thought so."
He straightened, suddenly noticing the halo above Goku's head.
"...Wait. What's that?"
"Oh," Goku said casually. "That's from dying."
The referee froze.
"...You died?"
Goku nodded. "Yep."
"...And you're still competing?"
"Special day off."
The referee stared at him for a long moment-then burst out laughing. "Unbelievable."
As he walked away, Goten-already at a distance with Trunks-looked back once more.
For the first time, someone outside his family had said it out loud.
It wasn't Mr. Satan.
And that... mattered more than he expected.
As the tournament announcements echoed across the island, Goten clenched his fists, eyes burning with quiet resolve.
The world was watching.
And this time-
he was ready.