Long before the destruction of Planet Vegeta, a baby pod was secretly launched into deep space. The infant Saiyan, Kaelira, was never recorded by Frieza’s forces—her existence unknown even to the surviving Saiyans. She landed on a remote world where she grew up as Kori, unaware of her true origins. When she died young in her first life, her soul reincarnated into the body of her Saiyan self, memories gradually returning as she trained and survived alone.

Years later, Earth had already been saved countless times by Goku, Vegeta, and the Z-Fighters. Unknown to them, another Saiyan warrior was living in the shadows, honing her skills and pushing her limits. Kaelira lived in the mountains, hidden from detection, avoiding contact.

Meanwhile, life for Earth’s heroes was not as peaceful as it seemed. During a visit to Capsule Corp, Bulma casually explained the difference between a “good marriage” and a “bad one.” She teased Vegeta for his stubbornness but pointed out that despite his pride, he respected her choices, while Goku often seemed to be treated more like a tool than a partner. At first, Goku laughed it off—until Bulma’s words lingered.

That night, Goku confronted Chi-Chi. For the first time, he admitted he felt like both he and his sons—Gohan and Goten—had been pushed too hard, their lives shaped by her expectations instead of their own. His voice trembled, not with anger but with sorrow. Chi-Chi, caught off guard, insisted she only wanted the best, her voice sharp but defensive. Goku pressed further, his usual carefree tone gone: was this truly love… or control? Their fight stretched into the night, raw emotion shaking their home.

The next day, Capsule Corp bustled with its usual life. In the courtyard, Gohan spoke quietly with Piccolo, his expression troubled. “Dad’s right,” he admitted. “I spent so much of my childhood studying because Mom wanted me to… not because I did. I love her, but sometimes I wonder what I could’ve been if I had the freedom to choose.” Piccolo, arms crossed, gave his pupil a sidelong glance. “You’ve already surpassed most warriors in this universe. But it seems even the strongest can still be shackled at home.”

Nearby, Trunks and Goten were sparring playfully, their laughter echoing through the gardens. Goten’s cheerfulness masked his confusion, though; every so often, he glanced toward the main building, sensing the unease between his parents. Trunks, smirking in typical fashion, whispered, “I think your mom’s really mad at your dad. You should crash at my place tonight.” Goten laughed nervously, unsure if it was a joke.

Inside, the tension came to a head. Chi-Chi’s voice rose as she defended her choices: “Everything I did was for this family! To give our sons a future beyond fighting!” Goku stood firm, his jaw clenched, uncharacteristically serious. “But Chi-Chi… you never asked us what we wanted. Gohan, Goten, even me—we all felt like we had to live your way.”

Bulma leaned against the wall, arms crossed, unfazed. “Well, I didn’t mean to start World War III, but it needed to be said. Goku deserves more than being treated like a tool.”

Vegeta, ever smug, let out a dry chuckle. “Hmph. Kakarot’s finally growing a spine. Took long enough.” He folded his arms, glancing at Bulma with his usual pride. “At least I know when to respect my mate’s wishes… sometimes.”

Chi-Chi’s face flushed red. “You stay out of this, Vegeta!” she snapped, though her voice cracked.

Goku sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I just… I want us to feel like a family, Chi-Chi. Not like soldiers in your plan.”

The room fell into silence. Gohan and Piccolo entered, Gohan carrying the weight of his father’s words in his expression. Goten peeked in with Trunks, wide-eyed, finally realizing the fight wasn’t just a small argument.