After chatting for a while, 18 led Rizze to her room. The little girl yawned and clutched her mother's sleeve, unwilling to sleep. Razor crouched beside her and brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Rest, Rizze," he murmured. "We can talk tomorrow."
Rizze smiled drowsily. "Promise you'll be here when I wake up?"
"I promise," Razor said softly.
Once she drifted off, 18 stood quietly by the doorway, watching her daughter's peaceful face. The waiting, the loneliness—it all seemed to fade in that moment. She turned, only to feel strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.
Razor's breath was warm against her neck. "It's been too long," he whispered, his voice low and rough, carrying the weight of years apart.
18 froze for a second, then exhaled slowly, leaning back against him. "…Yeah. It has."
For a heartbeat, neither moved. The silence between them spoke louder than words ever could—filled with memories, regret, and longing.
Razor turned her gently, his hand tracing her jawline. "You haven't changed," he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
18 met his gaze, her eyes soft but steady. "You have," she replied quietly. "But… not where it matters."
The tension between them shifted—no longer just reunion, but recognition. Razor lifted her effortlessly into his arms, his arm wrapped around her waist and legs.
"Razor…" she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly.
"I waited too long to see you again 18," he said, eyes glowing faintly crimson in the dim light.
The door to their room closed behind them, the faint creak of hinges echoing before silence reclaimed the night. Outside, the moonlight spilled through the trees, silver and serene, as shadows danced gently against the walls of their home.
A few days had passed since Razor returned to Earth,
Life around their small home near Mount Paozu was settling into a strange kind of calm. For someone who had spent years on battlefields, amid explosions and chaos, Razor's body remained perpetually alert. Every nerve, every muscle, was taut with readiness, as if a fight could erupt at any moment. He hadn't yet adjusted to this quiet life.
Early in the morning, Razor was already outside, performing basic exercises. Push-ups, crunches, squats — the motions were simple, but his body moved with the precision and speed.
Beside him, Rizze tried to copy him. Her small frame struggled to keep pace. By the time she completed a single push-up, Razor had finished dozens. She pouted in frustration but refused to stop, her blue eyes shining with excitement.
"Dad, I'm getting stronger! Look!" she squealed, jumping up after completing her set.
Razor paused, a rare smile — or rather a smirk — tugging at his lips. "Patience, Rizze. It's not about how fast you go. It's about control. Focus on each movement."
Rizze giggled and immediately tried again, clinging to his side whenever she faltered. Razor's tail instinctively wrapped around her waist at one point to steady her, earning a delighted squeal from his daughter.
From the doorway, 18 watched the scene with a soft smile. Her arms were crossed, leaning on the frame, but her eyes held warmth. The sight of her family was enough to make her heart feel light.
After their exercise, Rizze begged him to spar. "Teach me how to fight like you, Dad! So I can protect you and Mommy!"
Razor laughed, a deep, low sound that rumbled through his chest. "You really think you can protect me? I've been fighting since before you were born."
"I'm stronger than I look. I can do it!" she argued, crossing her tiny arms.
Razor shook his head, still smiling. "Alright, alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."
During their sparring session, Razor focused on controlling his strength, careful not to harm Rizze. He threw measured punches and guided her footwork, keeping her safe.
And then it happened.
Razor's eyes widened in shock as he saw Rizze's golden hair flare up and her aura ignite brilliantly. Her small body glowed with the unmistakable energy of a Super Saiyan.
"Rizze… you… you can transform into Super Saiyan?" Razor's voice was a mix of astonishment and pride. He had felt her energy before — impressive for her age — but he hadn't realized she had already mastered the transformation.
Rizze looked up at him. "I've done it before. I didn't think it would surprise you!"
Razor exhaled, a smirk forming on his face despite his shock. "You're already stronger than I thought… I'm proud of you."
Her grin widened. "See? I told you I could protect Mommy and you!"
Razor chuckled. "I see that now. Just… remember, control is everything."
Before they could continue, 18 called from the house. "Rizze! Come inside! Time to focus on your studies too!"
Razor raised an eyebrow. "Studies? Why?"
18 looked at him as if he were a complete fool. Then she realized: of course, he was a Saiyan. "Children study on Earth to learn things other than fighting, Razor. So they can take care of themselves, live normally…"
Razor scoffed, "She only needs to learn how to fight. That's enough to survive!"
18's glare could have frozen the ocean. "Fighting is not everything! She has a schedule for studying and training. And studying is important if she wants to… earn money."
Razor tilted his head, a hint of challenge in his smirk. "Can't she earn money if she's strong enough to fight?"
Rizze burst into laughter at the exchange, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
18 scowled at both of them and gave Razor a sharp smack on the head. "Don't argue back, you idiot!"
Razor rubbed his head, chuckling. "Yes, yes. No arguments."
Rizze continued giggling, clutching her stomach. 18 gave her a glare, and the girl finally ran inside to study, still chuckling quietly.
Days passed in a similar rhythm. Razor spent his mornings training, Rizze tagging along, and afternoons sparring with her under his watchful eye. Razor rarely spoke, but his presence was enough — a constant, protective force.
One day, after returning from shopping in West City, 18 mentioned casually, "Goku and Vegeta left to train with Whis. They're training to harness the divine ki."
Razor shrugged, uninterested. "Good for them."
18 teased, a playful glint in her eye. "At this rate, they might surpass you."
Razor smirked, looking down at his small daughter. "I've fought in wars for years. Let them try. I just want to spend some time relaxing with my daughter."
18's eyes softened but a teasing smile played on her lips. "And me? You forgot about me already?"
Razor turned to her casually. "Yeah… you too."
Her smack on his head was instantaneous. "You jerk."
He laughed lowly, unbothered, his smirk lingering as Rizze who stood beside 18, giggled at her parents antics.
The days continued like this — training, laughter, small lessons, and quiet moments. Razor's body remained alert, still sensing the world in ways only a warrior could, but his mind was slowly adjusting.
He watched Rizze grow more confident, more capable, and felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest — the satisfaction of simple life, of connection. 18 remained his anchor, guiding him gently, teasing him when needed, and ensuring that Rizze learned both strength and knowledge.
As night fell, Razor would often sit outside, Rizze leaning against him, pointing at the stars and asking questions he didn't always answer. 18 would also sit by his side, watching them, her heart full.
For the first time in years, Razor was just trying to live normally — for the family he had rediscovered.
And for now, that was enough.