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The instructions were seventeen pages long. Goku held them up to the lamp, turned them sideways, then upside down, then right around again. He wasn't confused about what to do, he had already figured that out. Through the years he had found that the spatial reasoning needed for strategic combat lent a helping hand with home maintenance. To a visual learner, though, the instructions provided were nothing short of incoherent. "Chi Chi," he called toward the kitchen.
"Mm?" Leaning away from the table, Chi Chi peered into the living room to see the progress at hand. While she typically wouldn't mind assisting her husband, Gohan's school enrollment form was becoming more tedious than initially presented- leaving her with her own beast to tame.
"Did the people who wrote this ever actually build one of these?"
Sensing her husband's growing frustration, she headed toward the young man hunched over the now crumpled paper. She looked at the instructions and then at the pieces on the floor, laid out in a sequence that she had to admit made more intuitive sense than the diagram. She looked back at the instructions. "Probably not," she remarked, before heading back toward her own dilemma.
"That's what I thought." He sighed and cast the papers aside in exchange for an allen wrench. "I'll figure it out."
As his worn hands became used to the repetitive movements, his mind began to drift. But with the twitch of a nose and the raise of a brow, he became aware of a presence by the front door. Despite its small and contained intensity, the flame of energy filled the area with warm familiarity- the smell of burnt firewood, a warm breeze by the lake, the hum of locusts during summer training. The feeling of Krillin.
His soft knock interrupted his thoughts, the kind so polite it seemed apologetic for the intrusion. Goku answered before the second knock landed.
Krillin stood on the porch with a small toolbox. "Chi Chi told Eighteen you were struggling," he said.
"Did she really?"
Krillin pulled his phone from his back pocket and held it up. There was Goku, face down in the carpet, surrounded by a constellation of loose screws and bolts.
"It's harder than it looks."
Krillin looked past him at the living room. The frame was about sixty percent assembled. An impressive feat had it not been for the noticeable tilt on the right hand side. Something that would surely give in to the enthusiasm of a young Saiyan child come morning.
"I just can't straighten it without undoing the whole right side," Goku said.
Krillin stepped inside, crouched down, and took a long look before getting to work on the right bracket. While Goku held tension on the frame so it didn't shift, Krillin pushed the crossbeam into proper alignment with a soft, satisfying click.
"How's Gohan liking the lessons?" Krillin asked.
"He's incredible." The thought of his son made him beam. "Chi Chi was right about the books. He's at the top of his class."
"You ever worry he'll turn out to be more scholar than fighter?"
Goku gave it a moment. "No. Whatever he turns out to be, he'll be great at it. That's just Gohan." He snugged a bolt carefully. "Besides, I don't think it's either-or. He's already both."
Krillin hummed in agreement. Down the hall the sound of snoring carried on, persistent and undisturbed. "I've been thinking," Krillin said, quieter now, "about whether I want to keep living at Kame House." Goku glanced at him but didn't push.
"It's not bad there. Roshi's... Roshi. And Eighteen's there now, which is-" He stopped. "It just doesn't feel like mine, you know? I'm thirty one. At what point does a person get their own place?"
Goku continued to tinker with the bolts. "When they decide to."
Krillin let out a short breath. "Easy for you to say. Not everyone can win the World Martial Arts Tournament and save a damsel in distress"
"I don't know. Chi Chi's not really a damsel in distress. Damsel that creates distress, maybe."
Despite himself, Krillin laughed. Then his expression settled back into something heavier. "I know you worked hard, Goku. I do. But things always seem to land right side up for you. You didn't even know what a bride was and you still ended up with a princess and home to call your own." He gestured vaguely at the house around them.
Goku felt the weight of that. It wasn't wrong, technically. The odds had been stacked in his favor more times than he could count and he'd never pretend otherwise. But he'd also seen the other side of the coin- things that most of the people in his life had never had to face. "I guess the bigger the risk, the bigger the reward."
Krillin raised his head and met his gaze.
"When we were kids, I was reckless. You're right that I'm lucky to be here in spite of all that." Goku shifted slightly as the vulnerability of the moment started to dawn on him. "But it’s different now ya’ know? Having someone at home waiting for you. One day I woke up and suddenly had everything to lose." The air around him became more tense as he continued. "It pushed me. To stop pulling punches. To take responsibility. Chi Chi and Gohan motivate me in ways I’ve never felt before."
Krillin was quiet for a moment. "Motivate you, huh."
"What's the real reason you want to move out?" Goku asked, one eyebrow raised.
Krillin's face went warm as he struggled to keep his composure. "Eighteen asked me something last week," he said slowly. "An important question. About the future. And I just- " He dropped his head into his hands. "I froze!"
A short, firm shush came from the kitchen. Both men looked up to find Chi Chi standing in the doorway, still awake, and still at war with her paperwork. She held their gaze for exactly one second, then disappeared back into the kitchen.
Krillin continued, quieter now. "I love her, I really do. But what if I can't be what she needs? What if the moment comes where I need that kind of strength, that motivation you're talking about, and it just isn't there?"
Goku thought for a moment before answering. He pointed at the half assembled frame. "Being a dad and a husband didn't come naturally to me either. I had to figure it out as I went, and I got it wrong plenty of times. But sometimes the instructions don't apply to you." He met Krillin's eyes. "You just have to trust your gut."
Krillin smiled. Just barely, but enough for Goku to know his words made it through. "Thanks."
"Of course." He paused. "Do you want to practice what you're going to say? I could pretend to be Eighteen."
"No."
"I'd make a convincing-"
"You're nothing like a girl. Much less a pretty one."
"Hey, I could be pretty!"
The two kept fumbling with parts, bickering as brothers do, until a new series of knocks interrupted them. Goku opened the door to Yamcha and Bulma on the porch. Yamcha had a jacket thrown over pajamas and a convenience store bag in hand. Bulma looked like she hadn't considered sleeping at all- thermos of coffee in one hand and tablet in the other. Though the soft glow of the screen gave her away, reflecting the tired weight beneath her eyes.
"I heard Krillin was here," Yamcha said. The three of them looked to Bulma, who sighed.
"Vegeta's on Trunks duty tonight so I took a break from the lab. Where's Chi Chi? I found some scholarship applications she'll want to look at."
"She's- " Goku started, but Bulma had already found the kitchen. Warm pleasantries floated back through the wall.
Yamcha watched her go. "I swear she has no concept of boundaries," he said, and let himself in anyway.
He set down the convenience store bag and unpacked it on the counter: a sports drink for Goku, coffee for Krillin, onigiri, chips, two canned teas, and a small package of decorative star stickers. Goku turned one of the stickers over in his hand. "What are these for?"
"The headboard. It's his first big kid bed, I thought it'd make it feel more personal." Yamcha shrugged, now feeling self conscious about his purchase. "You don't have to use them."
"I’m sure he’ll love them," Goku set them aside carefully but within reach. "We can put them on last."
From the kitchen came the low murmur of two women's voices, then the gurgle of Chi Chi's coffee machine starting up, and eventually a laugh from Bulma at a volume that made all three men in the living room hold their breath simultaneously. Down the hall, Gohan slept on.
Krillin looked at Yamcha. "You seem like you've got something on your mind."
Yamcha turned his head away to avoid their stares. "I'm fine, just tired." However, the young man had never been good at lying and his friends pressed forward. "Okay, okay, I had a tryout with the Titans last week." He said giving in to their skepticism.
"The baseball team?" Goku and Krillin asked in unison.
"Yeah. It went well, really well actually. They want to bring me on. Minor league, but still."
"That's great!" Said Krillin, before noticing his friend’s apprehensive demeanor. "Isn't it?"
Yamcha turned the chip bag over in his hands without opening it. "Yeah. It's just…it's not what I thought my life was going to look like. When we were training as kids I figured my whole deal would be this," He gestured vaguely toward the two. "Tournaments. Fights. Being part of something like that."
"You're still part of it," Goku said.
"Last time I helped save the world, I spent most of it unconscious."
"So did a lot of people."
"Goku, I'm being-“ Yamcha started, then stopped, then laughed a little. "I'm being serious here."
"I know." Goku set the wrench down. "I think you're being too hard on yourself about what your life is supposed to look like. Baseball isn't less than fighting. It’s just different. And you're good at it."
"You've never seen me play."
"I've seen you train. You're good at anything you care about. You always were."
Yamcha went quiet. On the other side of the wall, the kitchen conversation had long since drifted past enrollment paperwork into something warmer and more private.
"A wise man once told me," Krillin said, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "that sometimes the instructions don't apply to you. That you just have to trust your gut and figure it out."
Goku looked up with complete sincerity. "Woah, that is really wise. I wish I could meet this guy.”
Krillin just stared ahead with tired but patient eyes. "You said that. Fifteen minutes ago. To me.”
"Ohhh.” He picked up a slat. "I’m getting pretty tired guys."
Yamcha pinched the bridge of his nose and the three of them got back to work.
The next knock was different from the others, a single and deliberate impact. Not as much of a request as it was a notification of arrival. No one in the room said anything as they knew already who waited beyond the door.
Piccolo stepped into the house in his full training clothes, weighted turban and all, and offered his explanation before anyone could ask: "I was passing by." The claim seemed to reassure himself more than anyone else.
He came inside, sat down against the wall with his knees pulled up, and studied the footboard. "The anchor bolt on the left is going to strip. The threading's shallow, go slow." While Krillin and Yamcha leaned in to inspect it, Goku sat back down across from him.
"Thanks for coming."
"I wasn't-“
"I know." He said while glancing at the looming figure. “I still appreciate it.”
Piccolo looked at the floor. He had a version of this conversation ready- the sentimental version where he was left to deflect accusations of soft heartedness and friendship. But Goku had already moved on to the footboard, leaving Piccolo’s tough persona intact. "The kid still waking up early?" Piccolo asked.
"Actually since we dealt with Cell he's been sleeping in more, he wakes up around eight now.”
"Hm. I suppose it’s easier to rest when you're not under constant threat of annihilation."
"Tell me about it." Goku laughed, low and quiet. The silence that followed was the knowing kind. While Piccolo would never say so, he felt relief in seeing Gohan alive and well after Cell’s defeat. Perhaps a small part of him was relieved to see Goku along side him too. ‘I really am becoming soft’ he thought to himself. He felt something tug at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile but something similar.
From the kitchen came the sound of Bulma and Chi Chi's muffled laughter, sinking into the walls. Accompanied by the idle sounds of people who had grown up alongside each other, it gave Goku a sense of pride no battlefield had ever managed to produce. For the first time in a long time, joy had found its place within the Son family home.
"This is a lot of people in your house," Piccolo said
"I like it," Goku responded simply.
"You like everything."
"Not everything. Most things." He picked up a slat. "I like that nobody had to be here, and they showed up anyway."
Piccolo said nothing. He didn't disagree either.
At 1:15, Tien arrived with Chiaotzu, who was wearing a full robe and slippers and carrying, inexplicably, a level.
"A level?" Goku said.
"A level," Tien confirmed.
"Where did you-“
"I own a level. Every responsible adult should." He stepped inside and took in the scene. Piccolo against the wall, Yamcha and Krillin bickering over a slat, Goku watching the whole thing unfold from the floor. "How far along are you?"
"Almost done," Krillin said. "Slats are all that’s left."
Chiaotzu floated past everyone, placed the level on the headboard rail, checked the bubble and moved to the other side. After checking again, he held up two fingers.
"Two millimeters off center," Tien reported.
"Is that bad?" Yamcha asked.
"Over the lifetime of a bed frame, two millimeters-"
Krillin folded his arms across his chest firmly. “Nobody's undoing anything at one in the morning."
Tien looked to Goku, who offered a diplomatic shrug. "It'll add character," Goku said.
He relented and decided two millimeters were not worth the battle. "Fair enough." he said before sitting down near Piccolo. The two of them settled into adjacent sections of wall like a pair of gargoyles. They existed in a companionable silence that was different from the rest of the room's energy. Soaking in the moment while simultaneously scanning the room for a threat that would never come.
By 2:04 in the morning, the bed was finished. Getting it down the hall was a coordinated effort, the frame wider than the narrow passage wanted to allow, but they managed without a single scratch or bump. They set it down in Gohan's room and for a moment everyone just stood around it.
"Good?" Krillin said.
"Good," Goku said.
The mattress went on, the frame taking the weight evenly. Tien checked the alignment one final time and declared it acceptable. Then Goku peeled the star stickers from the sheet one by one and pressed them across the headboard in a clean, symmetrical line.
Peeling his finger off the last of the adhesive, he felt a delicate hand brush itself across his back. Chi Chi, who had been hidden behind his large frame, scanned her eyes across the finished product while their late night guests watched with bated breaths. With a soft smile and a hum of delight, the z fighters felt the tension release from their shoulders.
"Okay," she said. "Everyone out so we can get Gohan."
The Z fighters made their way back to the entry way of the house while Goku traversed towards his own room. The light from the hall shone its way through the crack in the door, illuminating Goku’s path as he scooped up his intended target. With one swift movement, he lifted the boy into his arms and began his journey only to stop when he felt a slight tug on his gi. He looked down to see a small first clinging to the fabric of his shirt, not out of anger or frustration but pure trust.
Goku had come to accept long ago that the world could not be baby proofed. Threats and danger lurked around every corner and his son would one day take on the mantle of the world’s unsung hero. No amount of lullabies, fishing trips, or sparring matches could prepare him for the incredible loss of his baby boy- so he learned to appreciate these moments during times of peace.
He cradled his son closer, his small frame curling up in his arms. Being ten years old with the weight of the world on your shoulders, a good nights sleep was hard to come by. But with the presence of his father’s ki, safety became a promise rather than a privilege earned through fighting. He knew Goku had more than enough strength to lift the world ten times and arms wide enough to protect him from all the hurt the universe had to throw. Gohan felt no shame beneath the shield of his father nor did he feel weak. No matter how much he grew, he knew he’d always be daddy’s little warrior.
Reaching his destination, Goku stood at the side of the new bed and laid his son down with the same hands that had split mountains, tucking the blanket around him with care and precision. He stood there, afraid that with the blink of an eye the boy would be all grown up. Instead, the boy slumbered on without a care and Goku felt at ease knowing he’d be a child if just for a little bit longer. He exited the room, taking one final look at the scene in front of him, before closing the door with a soft click.
In the living room the ragtag group seemed to be sleeping just as peacefully. Even Bulma, who had claimed the couch, had dozed off with her tablet still lit in hand. Chi Chi appeared beside him with an armful of spare blankets. "It's so late. I figured I'd let them stay." She moved through the room, draping a blanket over each figure. Glancing back over her shoulder, she gave a warm smile "I hope that's okay."
Goku watched her and grabbed a few of the remaining blankets. "Of course," he said, helping tuck in the rest of their guests. "I think we all earned a good night's sleep."