The Tenkaichi Budokai arena hummed with excitement, the late afternoon sun painting the sky in streaks of orange and blue as it began its descent toward the horizon. A pale moon, already visible in the fading daylight, hung faintly overhead—an unusual sight that drew a few curious glances from the crowd. Thousands of spectators packed the stands, their cheers echoing off the stone stage where two fighters faced off: Son Goku, blindfolded and radiating confidence, and Jackie Chun, calm and composed.
Goku stood at the center of the ring, arms crossed, his tail flicking lazily behind him. "C'mon, old man," he called out, his voice thick with arrogance. His smirk was wide, unshakable—this was the Goku everyone knew, brash and self-assured from the start.
Jackie Chun adjusted his beard and took a measured stance. "Big words for a kid who can't even see me." There was something oddly familiar about his posture, the way he held his shoulders—but with Goku blindfolded, these subtle details went unnoticed.
The referee signaled the start. "Begin!"
The bell rang, and the arena fell into a tense hush. Goku didn't move, his strategy simple: let Jackie strike first, then grab him and end it quick. He was stronger—much stronger—and he knew it. But Jackie was no ordinary opponent.
He dashed around Goku like a shadow, with a ft formidable footwork. A punch slammed into Goku's chest but Goku's hand swiped at empty air, missing Jackie by a heartbeat as the older fighter slipped away with practiced ease.
Another hit landed, this time on Goku's arm. Again, Goku grabbed and missed. "Quit dancing around!" Goku snapped, his smirk twitching into a scowl. "You scared or something?"
Jackie chuckled "Scared? No. Just using proper technique, something you might want to learn."
The crowd buzzed, captivated by the strange dynamic. Jackie's attacks were relentless, a flurry of precise strikes that spoke of decades of experience, but they barely fazed Goku. He stood like a rock, absorbing each blow without a flinch.
"He's not even dodging!" a spectator yelled. "But Jackie doesn't seem to hurt him!"
In the stands, Goku's friends watched with mixed reactions:
Bulma leaned forward, frowning. "What's he doing? Just standing there like an idiot? MOVE SON-KUN DO SOMETHING!!."
Oolong smirked, munching on a snack. Don't worry I bet he has a plan!."
Pu'ar cheered, waving her tiny paws. "You can do it, Goku!"
Krilin rubbed his chin, more worried. "Jackie's really fast, but Goku's waiting for an opening. One grab and it's over..."
Minutes ticked by, the stalemate wearing thin. Jackie's strikes grew more precise, targeting pressure points with surgical accuracy, but Goku's patience frayed. "You're wasting my time!" he shouted, lunging blindly as another punch grazed his side—missing again. His cocky grin was gone, replaced by a gritted-teeth glare beneath the blindfold.
Then, something shifted. Goku stilled, his head tilting slightly as his enhanced senses kicked in. He began to feel it: the faint tremors in the stone beneath his feet when Jackie landed, the whisper of displaced air as he moved, the rhythm of his breathing between attacks.
A jab came from the right; Goku's arm snapped up, blocking it cleanly. A kick from the left; he stepped aside just in time, his movement fluid and precise.
The crowd roared. "He's adapting!" "Jackie's in trouble now!"
Goku's predatory smirk crept back. "Not so fast now, huh, old man?" he taunted, his hand shooting out with newfound precision. His fingers grazed Jackie's sleeve, nearly closing the gap. "You can't hide from me anymore..." He says like a predator cornering his prey
Jackie's eyes widened slightly. *This kid... he's learning faster than I expected.*
The battle intensified as Goku's sensory adaptation reached its peak. He was tracking Jackie's movements with increasing accuracy, his grabbing attempts coming dangerously close to connecting. The crowd could feel the momentum shifting.
"He's got him now!" someone shouted.
Then it happened. Goku's hand shot out with perfect precision, his fingers clamping down on Jackie's arm like a vice. Jackie's eyes went wide... he was caught.
"Got you," Goku said with a triumphant smirk, his grip tightening.
Jackie struggled desperately, pulling and twisting to break free. With a sharp *rip*, his sleeve tore completely off, fabric flying as he barely escaped Goku's grasp. But now he was cornered, his back against the ring's edge, with nowhere to run.
Goku stepped forward confidently. "No more running, old man. It's over."
Jackie's mind raced. A direct confrontation was too risky—Goku was too strong, too fast in close combat. But there was one option, dangerous as it was. He took a deep breath and made his decision.
"Forgive me, kid," Jackie muttered under his breath.
He cupped his hands at his side, energy beginning to gather between his palms. The familiar blue glow started to build as he assumed the stance that had taken him decades to master.
"Ka... me..."
Goku's head snapped toward the sound, his enhanced hearing picking up the distinctive energy buildup. His expression shifted from confidence to confusion. That sound, that energy signature—it was impossibly familiar.
"Ha... me..."
The blue light grew brighter, illuminating Jackie's determined face. In the stands, the crowd leaned forward, sensing something extraordinary was about to happen.
Goku heard it all—the energy crackling, the air displacement, the buildup of power. But he was too close, and it was too late to dodge, "Gramps !?".
"HAAAAA!"
The brilliant blue beam erupted forward like a raging river of energy, engulfing Goku completely. The Kamehameha wave struck him with tremendous force, but rather than blasting him away, it enveloped him like a massive flamethrower of pure ki, being pushed at the end of the stage.
The energy didn't penetrate his defenses—Goku was too strong for that—but the intense heat and pressure scorched everything it touched. His orange gi top was burned away completely, parts of his pants were singed and torn, and most critically, his blindfold was incinerated in the blazing torrent of energy.

When the beam finally dissipated, Goku stood there, smoke rising from his partially burned clothing, completely unharmed but no longer blindfolded. His eyes opened automatically—and immediately locked onto the pale moon glowing against the twilight sky.
The moment his gaze fixed on that celestial body, everything changed. A strange jolt ran through him—his pupils dilated, his tail went rigid, and a wave of overwhelming dizziness crashed over his senses.
But even as his body began to tremble and his consciousness started to fade, Goku's mind was fixated on something else entirely.
"That technique... is..." he mumbled, his voice growing weaker as he staggered backward, his eyes losing focus.
He collapsed unconscious, his body hitting the ring floor with a heavy thud.
The referee raised his flag, stunned by the sudden turn of events. "Jackie Chun wins the 21st Tenkaichi Budokai!"
The referee raised his flag, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. "Ring out! Jackie Chun wins!"
The crowd erupted in a chaotic mix of cheers, gasps, and confused murmuring. "What just happened?" "He was winning!" "Did that energy beam knock him out?"
The announcer stepped onto the stage with a large ceremonial check. "Ladies and gentlemen, our champion—Jackie Chun!" He presented the 500,000 zeni prize money to the elderly fighter, who accepted it with a humble bow.
"Thank you," Jackie said graciously to the crowd. "It was an honor to compete against such talented young fighters."
As the ceremony concluded, Jackie approached the edge of the ring where Krilin rushed to Goku almost crying of frustration.
"Hey there, young man," Jackie said gently. "Your friend fought magnificently. You should be proud."
Krilin wiped his nose with his sleeve, his voice shaking. "But he lost... Goku never loses..."
"Sometimes losing teaches us more than winning ever could," Jackie said wisely. "Your friend is incredibly strong, but he's still learning. And so are you." He patted Krilin's head kindly. "Keep training hard, both of you. I have a feeling we'll meet again someday."
Jackie then walked over to where Goku lay unconscious, still being tended by the medics. He knelt beside him briefly. "You're stronger than your grandfather ever was, boy. But strength isn't everything." He stood and quietly walked away from the arena.
Hours later, in the medical tent, Goku blinked awake to find worried faces surrounding him. "Ugh... did I get him?" he asked groggily, rubbing his throbbing temple.
"No, you lost," Oolong said bluntly, though his tone carried underlying worry. "That old guy used some kind of energy beam on you."
Pu'ar hovered close, her voice trembling with concern. "Are you okay, Goku? You just collapsed after taking that attack!"
Krilin's eyes were still red from crying. "You were so close to winning... then that technique just overwhelmed you."
"You probably just took too much damage," Oolong concluded matter-of-factly. "Even you have limits, you know."
"Yeah," Krilin agreed, wiping his eyes. "All those hits from Jackie, then that big energy attack... no wonder you passed out."
Bulma remained quiet, her mind racing. *But that's not what happened... first his tail went stiff when he looked at the moon, just like before. There's definitely a pattern here, but what could the moon possibly have to do with it?* She decided to keep her observations to herself for now.
Minutes later, in a secluded changing area, Jackie Chun carefully removed his wig and changed into his black suit. Master Roshi emerged, adjusting his sunglasses and beard as he made his way back toward the tournament grounds.
Goku sat up slowly, his head still spinning. "That technique... I swear it's gramps technique."
"By the way where is he ?" Asked krilin.
Just then, Master Roshi appeared at the tent entrance, slightly out of breath. "There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you all!"
"Master!" Krilin exclaimed. "Where were you? You missed the whole tournament!"
Roshi scratched his head sheepishly. "Ah, well... I got distracted by a... pichi-pichi gal selling takoyaki. Lost track of time completely! How did it go?"
"Goku made it to the finals but lost to some old guy named Jackie Chun," Bulma explained.
"Jackie Chun?" Roshi repeated, his expression carefully neutral. "Never heard of him. Must be quite skilled to defeat Goku."
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold as Master Roshi led Goku, Krillin, Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong, and Pu'ar away from the tournament grounds. His bald head gleamed under the fading light, and his sunglasses caught the glow as he turned to his students with a proud grin.
"Well, boys," Roshi said, voice a mix of pride and mischief, "you've made this old turtle proud today. Krillin, you held your own. And Goku, Blindfolded, no ki, and you still nearly took the whole thing. That's some serious grit."
Goku smirked, arms crossed and tail swaying lazily behind him. "Yeah, I know. I had that old man sweating. He just got lucky."
Krillin grinned beside him. "You were amazing, Goku! I thought you had it in the bag!"
Roshi nodded. "Second place in your first Tenkaichi Budokai ain't bad at all. You've both earned a little celebration. Dinner's on me.
The group cheered and piled into a nearby restaurant buzzing with energy—wooden tables, sizzling grills, and mouthwatering smells hanging in the air.
Once seated, Goku lit up and barked out his order with no hesitation. "Three bowls of ramen! Dumplings! Fried rice! And a mountain of meat skewers!"
The food came fast, and Goku dug in like a beast. He ate with such precision and confidence it was as if the meal were a performance. Everyone else just stared in stunned silence.
"Goku! Slow down!" Bulma shouted, hands on her hips. "You're gonna explode."
He paused only for a second. "I'll stop here. Should moderate." Then he grabbed another skewer.
Yamcha leaned back, laughing. "He says that after a dozen plates."
Oolong cackled, elbowing Roshi. "Good luck footing the bill, old man."
Roshi gave a shaky laugh, watching the plates pile up. Eventually, the waiter slid the check discreetly his way. Roshi peeked, he excused himself and wandered over to the counter where a stone-faced woman waited with a pen and clipboard.
"Heh… you sure this is right? I mean, maybe there's a discount for… I dunno, martial arts legends?" He gave her his most charming old-man grin.
The woman didn't blink. "Pay up."
"Eh!"
Later, under the night sky, the group rode along in a capsule car with Yamcha at the wheel. The lights of the city faded behind them as silence settled in. Roshi finally broke it, arms folded as he looked over at Goku and Krillin in the back seat.
Yamcha break the silence "when y'all get back you will continue the training?" "Of course!" Answered krilin.
"no, no! I've got nothing left to teach you." Says Roshi "you both need to take your own path, it is the best way"
Goku didn't flinch. "Kinda figured."
Krillin nodded, then glanced at Roshi. "I think I'll stick around with you, Master."
Roshi. "I... I see" *damn it... Just when a though I'd be alone with Lunch"
Goku leaned his head back, gazing out the window. His mind wandered—toward the Dragon Balls. Toward the one that mattered.
*Gohan's four-star ball... I want it. I need it. Before someone else gets it.*
"I'm going after Grandpa's Dragon Ball," he said aloud. "The four-star one. It's mine."
Bulma immediately sat up, eyes wide. "Wait, what?! You're leaving? Now?!"
Goku nodded casually. "Yeah."
"We're sick of that stuff go by yourself!" Said Oolong "I didn't ask you..." Answered him Goku.
"You don't even know where to go!" Bulma said, digging in her bag. "You sure you even know how to use the radar properly? What if you get lost? Or—hurt? Or—"
He held up the radar. "Already got it. And I'll be fine."
Bulma snatched it back, checking it herself. "Still, I should double-check the coordinates—no offense, but you're not exactly the most detail-oriented."
Yamcha chuckled from the front seat. "Relax, Bulma. It's Goku. He'll be fine."
She spun on him. "I'm not worried. I'm just making sure he doesn't mess this up! Someone has to."
Then she turned back to Goku, leaning in, her expression breaking from tsundere to something softer. "Seriously... are you sure? You could come back to Capsule Corp. Rest up. Recharge. I could upgrade the radar. We could plan this out—"
Goku just smiled. "hoho ? Are you worried about me?"
"LIKE I CARE ABOUT A MONKEY!!!" She screamed blushing.
"MONKEY!? THE BLOOMER IS CALLING ME MONKEY!" shouted Goku.
Bulma glared, cheeks tinged pink, clearly torn. "Fine. Go. But if you screw up and break the radar, don't come crying to me!"
"Deal!"
She crossed her arms, muttering, "Idiot," under her breath.

A gust of wind swept in as Goku called out, "Kinto'un!" The golden cloud descended from the sky, hovering obediently.
He stepped out of the car, gave them a wave, and leapt onto it.
"Later!" he shouted, and in a flash, he soared into the night sky.
Everyone watched him go.
Bulma stared the longest, arms tight over her chest. Yamcha looked at her, then back at the fading streak in the stars, a strange pang sitting in his chest.
Roshi finally spoke, lips curling into a grin. "That kid's gonna change the world."
Krillin nodded. "And I'm gonna catch up. Just watch me."
Bulma whispered to herself, "...idiot. What's wrong with me?"