Turning his head, his eyes landed on something familiar leaning just behind the door.
A red pole.
It stood upright against the wall, worn but carefully maintained, its surface smooth from years of use. The sight of it sent a strange warmth through his chest. As the lingering weakness faded from his limbs, strength slowly returned to his body.
Pushing himself to his feet, he walked over and wrapped his small fingers around the pole.
The moment he touched it, it felt… right.
He lifted it easily and pulled away the cloth bag covering its top, revealing the polished end beneath. Curious, he tightened his grip and gave it an experimental swing.
Whoosh—
Thud!
The pole struck the door harder than he intended.
With a loud creak, the wooden door burst open, swinging outward on its hinges. Sunlight flooded into the hut, chasing away the dimness as a cool morning breeze brushed against his skin.
"…Oops."
He stepped forward and looked outside.
Towering trees stretched endlessly in every direction, their leaves rustling softly in the wind.
Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, painting the forest floor in shifting patterns of gold and green. Birds chirped in the distance, and somewhere far off, water flowed gently over stone.
It was peaceful.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he stepped outside fully, breathing in the crisp mountain air. For a brief moment, everything felt… calm.
He turned back, carefully closed the door behind him, and glanced around the clearing surrounding the hut.
'Since I'm going to live here…' he thought, 'I should probably learn the area.'
Knowing the terrain meant survival. Food sources. Paths. Danger zones. It was only logical.
But just as he took his first step forward , pain lanced through his head.
"—!"
A sudden wave of memories crashed into him without warning.
He froze in place, eyes wide as scenes flooded his mind one after another. Training in the forest. Fishing by the river. Laughing. Falling. Getting back up again.
And always—him. A tall, gentle man with a kind smile.
Grandpa Gohan.
The memories played out clearly now, uninterrupted and complete. He saw the moments leading up to the tragedy, the accident beneath the full moon, and the silence that followed.
Goku already understood the truth.
Grandpa Gohan had passed away.
So when that memory surfaced, it didn't shock him—but it still hurt, a quiet ache settling deep in his chest. He stood there silently as the final fragments of memory faded, the forest around him returning to focus.
Then—
Grrrrrrr.
The sound echoed loudly in the clearing.
He blinked.
"…Ah."
His stomach growled again, even louder this time, demanding attention without mercy. The seriousness of the moment shattered instantly.
Goku rubbed his belly and let out a small, helpless laugh.
"…Guess I should eat first."
No matter the world. No matter the body. Some things, never change—especially for Son Goku.
He ventured deeper into the forest, instinct guiding his feet until the trees thinned and the sound of rushing water grew louder. Soon, he stood at the edge of a small cliff overlooking a wide, fast-moving river below.
Without hesitation, he jumped.
Midway down, he grabbed a thick tree branch, letting the momentum swing him forward before releasing it. His body twisted naturally in the air, completing a smooth backflip before he landed lightly on a sun-warmed rock near the riverbank.
Splash… splash…
The constant, lively rush of water was strangely soothing, washing away lingering tension from his mind. He crouched near the edge, eyes scanning the river as fish leapt from the surface, glimmering silver under the sunlight.
"…Nah," he muttered. "Those are too small."
After setting his clothes aside neatly, he stretched his small arms and rolled his shoulders, clearly annoyed.
'I really can't wait to grow up,' he thought. 'Being this short is such a pain.'
With that, Son Goku dove into the river.
The icy water shocked his system, making him shiver for a brief second—but his body adapted quickly, warmth returning as he swam deeper. His eyes adjusted beneath the surface, and that was when he saw it.
A huge shadow moved through the water.
A massive fish—thick-bodied, powerful, easily several times his size—glided toward him. The creature seemed confused, mistaking him for some strange river animal.
'…That thing's huge,' Goku thought, eyes widening slightly.
The fish suddenly lunged.
In response, Goku kicked off the riverbed and burst upward out of the water. The fish followed, jaws snapping as it leapt after him.
Mid-air—
BAM!
Goku twisted his body and punched the fish square in the head, sending it flying toward the riverbank. It crashed onto the land with a heavy thud, flopping helplessly.
Goku splashed back into the river but quickly swam to shore, climbing out with an excited grin.
"…Woah."
He stared at his small fist, flexing it experimentally.
'This body's way stronger than it looks.'
Along with the memories he'd inherited, he realized he'd also absorbed Goku's early martial arts training—simple, practical techniques taught by Grandpa Gohan. Honestly, without them, surviving in this world would've been impossible.
After drying off and getting dressed again, he dragged the massive fish back toward the hut. He gathered firewood, stacking it carefully, and soon had a fire going using techniques ingrained deep in his memory.
He skewered the fish on a sturdy stick and positioned it over the flames, the scent of cooking meat slowly filling the air.
"…This thing's huge," he said, staring at it thoughtfully. "I wonder if I'll actually be able to finish it all by myself."
A beat.
He burst out laughing at his own joke, sitting cross-legged beside the fire as it crackled warmly.
'While it cooks… maybe I should practice a bit,' he thought. 'I need to adapt to this body properly before I head out on any real adventure.'
The flames flickered in his eyes as determination quietly took root.
Goku stepped away from the fire, putting a good distance between himself and the crackling flames. The forest around him was quiet, save for the distant rush of the river and the whisper of leaves overhead.
He stopped.
His small body shifted naturally into a guard stance—feet planted, knees slightly bent, hands raised. There was no hesitation, no conscious thought behind it.
The martial arts Grandpa Gohan had taught him were already etched deep into his body.
Right now, he wasn't thinking about techniques or forms. He was moving purely on instinct—on muscle memory forged through countless repetitions. Every mistake he'd made. Every stumble. Every time a staff had lightly—or not so lightly—rapped him on the head for sloppy form.
Those lessons had been carved into him the hard way.
And now, they flowed.
He burst forward.
In a blink, he reached a nearby tree and unleashed a rapid flurry of punches. Each strike landed with crisp precision, the trunk shuddering violently before finally cracking and toppling over with a heavy crash.
"…Nice."
Without stopping, Goku leaped upward, landing on a branch and springing from tree to tree with effortless agility. His movements were light, almost playful, yet controlled to perfection.
He jumped high into the air, body twisting as he struck a familiar pose mid-flight—a sharp, iconic kicking stance that felt strangely nostalgic.
He descended in a smooth arc and landed on the tip of one foot, absorbing the impact cleanly before straightening up.
'That was great,' he thought, a grin spreading across his face.
'If I keep this up, I'll be strong enough to go on the long journey to find the Dragon Balls.'
He knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy. Wild creatures. Bandits. Unknown dangers lurking far beyond this peaceful mountain.
But instead of fear, excitement burned in his chest. Danger just sounded… fun.
Goku headed back to the hut and found the fish cooked to perfection, its surface golden and sizzling. He pulled it from the fire and began eating without hesitation.
Minutes passed.
Then—nothing remained but clean-picked bones scattered on the ground. He leaned back and let out a satisfied burp.
'That was goood,' he thought happily.
Afterward, he carefully put out the fire and returned to the forest, gathering extra firewood and stacking it neatly near the hut.
It was better to be prepared—no point in running around hungry later when he could handle things now.
Once done, he grabbed the broom resting behind the door, swept the fireplace clean, and disposed of the fish bones. The hut was quiet again, neat and orderly.
Only then did he smile.
"…Alright."
He grabbed his power pole, stepped outside, and broke into a run as he disappeared into the forest. His senses sharpened instantly, ears picking up distant sounds, eyes scanning every shadow.
Nature was full of opponents. And today… he felt like testing himself.
Whether it was his Saiyan blood boiling with excitement—or simply his desire to grow stronger, just like the original Son Goku—he didn't know.
He only knew one thing.
'Alright… let's see what I can fight.'
TO BE CONTINUED