The walk back home was quiet, save for the sound of crickets chirping and your occasional drunken muttering. Goku had his arm around you to keep you steady, your weight leaning heavily against his side. You weren’t that drunk, but tipsy enough to let your thoughts spill out like an overflowing pot.

“Stupid… bitch,” you grumbled, barely audible, though Goku caught it loud and clear. His ear twitched, his confusion growing.

“Huh? What’re you talking about?” he asked, glancing down at you. Your cheeks were flushed, from both the alcohol and something else—something he couldn’t quite place.

“That… woman,” you slurred, poking his chest with a wobbly finger. “Drooling all over you… ‘Oh, Goku, your arms are so big! You’re so strong!’ Ugh.” You scoffed, your words dripping with disdain as you mimicked the woman’s voice.

Goku blinked, his steps faltering for a second. “Wait, you mean the lady at the party? She was just being nice! I mean, I do train a lot, so it’s not like she was wrong…”

That earned him a sharp jab to the side. “Idiot,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at him. “You don’t get it. I hate it when other women look at you like that… like you’re some kind of—of…” You waved your hand around, searching for the right word. “Prize to win. You’re mine, Goku. Not theirs.”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. The tension in your voice, the way you clung to him—it all clicked. That’s what had been bothering you this whole time.

You weren’t mad at him… you were jealous.

“You know,” you mumbled, your voice softer now, “if I could, I’d… I’d put you in a glass. Like a fancy display case. So only I could look at you… and your stupid, perfect body…” Your words trailed off into a grumble, and you buried your face against his chest, embarrassed but too tipsy to stop talking.

Goku stopped walking, staring down at you with wide eyes. “Wait… that’s what this is about? You’re mad ‘cause… ‘cause other people look at me?” His voice was a mix of surprise and disbelief.