Riku woke up before the sun.
That alone felt wrong.
For a few seconds, he lay there staring at the faint orange glow creeping across the sky, waiting for the familiar jolt of pain that usually followed consciousness. It came—but slower this time. Manageable. Annoying, but not crippling.
He sat up.
Nothing tore. Nothing screamed.
"…Huh," he muttered.
Goku was still asleep, sprawled face-down in the sand with his tail twitching lazily. Riku stood carefully, testing his balance. His legs complained, but they listened.
Behind him, the island door creaked open.
Master Roshi squinted at him over his sunglasses. "You're up early."
Riku blinked. "Is that… bad?"
Roshi shrugged. "We'll see."
That was never reassuring.
Training—still allegedly not training—started immediately. Roshi didn't bother with explanations. He just added rules.
The crates were back. Heavier than yesterday. This time, Roshi made him carry them while walking along a narrow line drawn in the sand.
"Don't step off," Roshi said. "If you do, start over."
Riku looked down at the line. Then at the crate. Then at Roshi.
"…Why?"
Roshi sipped his drink. "Because I said so."
Goku tried next.
He stepped off the line immediately, shrugged, and ran in a circle instead. "This is hard!"
Bulma, seated on the porch with a stopwatch, sighed loudly. "That's because you're not doing it."
Riku started slow.
His body remembered yesterday's mistakes. Every wobble, every overcorrection. He breathed in rhythm, keeping the pressure inside him tight and even.
Step.
Balance.
Step.
The crate didn't shake.
Bulma glanced up. "…You're faster."
"Please don't say that," Riku said through clenched teeth.
"I'm saying it because I'm annoyed," she replied. "That's how you know it's true."
By midday, Roshi changed things again.
Now Riku had to hold an uncomfortable stance while balancing a stack of objects on his arms. None of them were particularly heavy. Together, they were unbearable.
Sweat dripped into his eyes. His legs trembled violently.
"Is this the lesson?" Riku asked.
Roshi tilted his head. "Maybe."
An hour later, Riku nearly collapsed.
Bulma checked her watch. "You lasted twelve minutes longer than yesterday."
Riku stared at her. "Why do you know that?"
She looked away. "I was bored."
Goku tried the stance next and fell over immediately. "Ow."
Riku laughed.
That hurt too.
By sunset, Riku realized something unsettling.
He wasn't exhausted.
He was tired. He was sore. But there was something left in him—a thin reserve he hadn't known existed.
Roshi noticed.
He quietly swapped one of the crates for a heavier one without comment.
Riku picked it up.
His breath hitched—but he didn't drop it.
Roshi gave a small, nearly invisible nod.
That night, Riku lay staring at the stars again. He felt different—not stronger, not faster.
Just… steadier.
Progress, he realized, wasn't dramatic.
It was irritating.
And somehow, that made it real.
END OF CHAPTER
Author's Comment:
Progress won't come with explosions or sudden power spikes—at least not yet. This arc is about habits, awareness, and building a foundation through daily nonsense that somehow works. Thanks for sticking with the slower, funnier grind. It'll pay off 😄🐢