Chapter 3: Bulma Reborn

Bulma had been deeply moved at that time—she understood it all too well.

If Son Goku were still alive, none of this would have happened.

But it was Gohan's single sentence—"If Dad were here…"—that rekindled the spark within her.

That faint ember of hope ignited into purpose.

After twenty years of tireless research, she finally completed the Time Machine.

She sent Trunks to the past—to ask for help, and to deliver medicine to Son Goku.

And it worked.

When Trunks returned, he spoke to her about Prince Vegeta's quiet tenderness—something that surprised even Bulma herself.

She remembered it clearly.

Back when Vegeta was still alive, she had never once felt safe around him.

There was no warmth, no care—only pride and coldness.

So when Trunks told her that the Vegeta of that other world had changed… she knew it must have been because Goku was there.

Tien and Piccolo were proof enough of that.

He might seem simple, but there was something wondrous about him.

Decades later, even now, the one she trusted most was still Son Goku.

The Time Machine didn't just let another timeline's Goku receive his cure and live—it saved their own dying world too.

That thought filled Bulma with immeasurable comfort. All her years of struggle hadn't been in vain.

At the time, she had wanted to go see Goku herself…

But she was already old.

There, another young version of her existed—one with Chi-Chi at Goku's side.

And she had no idea how she would face that world…

She was afraid—afraid that if she went, she would never want to return.

So she didn't.

She stayed, living in a scarred and broken world.

Late at night, when silence fell, loneliness crept in with her thoughts.

She had imagined it countless times—

If life could start over…

If she could choose Goku instead…

But life has no "if."

As her memories played on, the Black Goku's hand crackled with fierce energy—

And in an instant, Bulma's body was reduced to dust and light.

As her consciousness faded, a familiar melody echoed in her mind.

A Romantic Song—Dedicated to You…

To that gentle tune, she seemed to see young Son Goku again—

Running beside her, sharing those old adventures.

With that memory warming her heart,

She finally let go.

When she opened her eyes again… she was sixteen.

Back to the very start of her journey—when she had first set out to find the Dragon Balls.

Bulma touched her cheek in disbelief.

"I've been reborn!"

Suddenly, a sharp cry startled her.

She turned—and in the distance, above Mount Paozu, a flash of light streaked across the sky.

A dinosaur had been struck by something—it plummeted to the ground in a thunderous crash.

Bulma's eyes widened, recognizing the mountain at a glance.

"That's Mount Paozu—Son Goku's home!"

Her tragic life had ended… yet she had been given another chance.

Joy surged through her chest; her gaze hardened with resolve.

"Son Goku, I'm coming for you!

This time, I won't let you slip away—

Chi-Chi won't have the chance to steal you from me!"

With a fierce grin, Bulma slammed her foot on the accelerator, racing toward Mount Paozu.

But as the saying goes—a mountain may look close, but it's a long climb.

Even though she could see it ahead, it took her a full hour just to reach the foot of the mountain.

Then another hour winding up its twisting roads—still not at the summit.

Bulma sighed, half-laughing. "Guess even a veteran driver like me isn't fast enough."

As she drove on, a narrow mountain river came into view.

Old memories returned in vivid color.

She remembered this river from her very first visit—

That day, little Goku had caught a giant fish there for dinner.

The boy had been so naive he'd thought she was there to steal his food.

Seeing that same river again told her she was close.

Through the trees, she finally spotted smoke curling up from the mountaintop.

A smile touched her lips.

If she was right, that smoke meant Goku was roasting meat again.

Bulma's grin widened. She pressed the pedal down hard, her car roaring along the winding road.

Suddenly, a small figure appeared right in front of her vehicle—

A child, walking on his hands, a turtle shell strapped to his back, oblivious to the road.

Startled, Bulma slammed the brakes, but it was too late—the tires screeched, the car skidded straight toward him.

Panicked, she clutched the steering wheel and squeezed her eyes shut.

She braced herself for the crash—

But no impact came.

Instead, the car stopped.

Bulma opened her eyes.

There, right before her, stood a small boy with a tail.

Her heart trembled violently, her breath caught in her throat.

It was him—her little Goku.

That same innocent, foolishly pure gaze filled her with warmth and nostalgia.

Overwhelmed, Bulma stepped out of the car and approached, her hands trembling with emotion.

This was the first time this young Goku had ever seen her—

But for Bulma, who had lived through decades of despair,

Not a single day had passed without missing that face.

Without thinking, she threw her arms around him.

Goku froze, utterly stunned.

'What's going on?'

'Isn't this Bulma?'

'Why isn't she shooting at me?'

'Why's she hugging me instead?!'

Feeling her trembling body pressed against him, Goku didn't move an inch.

She was soft—and she smelled nice.

Really nice.