Goku goes back in time

Mount Paozu - Saturday

The sun rose on a bright weekend morning, casting golden light across Mt. Paozu. Birds chirped in the distance as a calm wind rustled the trees, but the peace didn't last long.

"Alright, everyone, gather up!" Goku called, stretching as he looked toward the clearing behind their house. "We've got guests comin'."

Videl, Erasa, and Sharpner stood in attention, still sore from the previous day's sparring session with Gohan but eager to see what Goku had in store. They had been expecting maybe more drills, perhaps some new gravity weights, or more harsh mental training.

They didn't expect what came next.

A sleek black hovercar touched down beside the dirt path, and out stepped two men—both of whom caused the trio's jaws to drop.

"Yo!" Yamcha waved with a grin, still rocking his signature scars and long hair, but dressed casually with a high-end West City baseball jacket. "Hope you kids are ready to sweat!"

"Hope you're not expecting autographs," Krillin added with a chuckle, his shaved head glinting in the sunlight, dressed in a modified martial arts uniform with a West City Special Forces badge pinned to the side. "I'm not here as a celebrity. I'm here to make you sweat."

"Is that—?!" Sharpner blinked, pointing. "Yamcha?! The Yamcha?! West City Wolfangs?! The guy who hit that 600-meter home run last season?!"

"No way!" Erasa gasped. "And Krillin? I saw you on that special episode of Martial Law: West City Edition! The Super Cop! You took down a whole drug cartel by yourself, save many children from Human Trafficking and even destroyed remnants of the Red Ribbon Army!"

Goku laughed as he folded his arms. "Surprised? I called in a couple old friends for help. We're getting serious now—next week's the World Youth Exhibition. Time to crank it up."

Erasa and Sharpner exchanged stunned looks. Videl, meanwhile, narrowed her eyes in slight concern. This was escalating faster than expected.

"Okay!" Goku clapped his hands. "So I've thought it over and I'm gonna assign you based on your natural styles."

He pointed first at Sharpner. "You've got raw power and a lot of energy. Bit reckless, but plenty of potential. Yamcha's gonna take you under his wing."

Yamcha smirked and motioned for Sharpner to follow. "You and me, kid. I'll teach you how to hit hard and smart. Let's unlock that inner beast."

Sharpner, still wide-eyed, stumbled after him like he'd just met a rockstar.

"Erasa," Goku turned next, "you're fast, agile, and intuitive. You remind me a bit of Krillin, actually."

Krillin nodded. "She's got good instincts. I'll teach her how to move with purpose, strike with intent, and use her size and speed to her advantage."

Erasa lit up like a lantern and gave a determined nod. "Yes, sir!"

But when Videl stepped forward, a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. "What about me?"

Before Goku could answer, a firm voice cut through the air.

"I'll take her."

All heads turned to see Chichi, arms folded, apron still on from morning cooking, standing with the poise of a seasoned master. Her eyes locked onto Videl's, sharp and unyielding.

Goku blinked. "Oh? You sure, Chi?"

"She's got fight in her," Chichi said. "And I know exactly how to bring it out."

Videl was stunned. "Wait—you?"

Chichi stepped forward, her expression unreadable. "I was trained by the Ox-King himself and I made it to the semi-final rounds of the World Martial Arts Tournament. Don't mistake housewife for helpless."

There was an eerie silence before Gohan whispered to Erasa, "Yeah, Mom once knocked out a dinosaur for chasing me when I was five…"

Videl's face shifted from shock to awe, then to excitement. She bowed deeply. "I'd be honored."

"Good." Chichi smiled. "Now go change. We're starting with mountain sprints."

And just like that, the weekend's tone shifted from leisurely to legendary. The trio, now officially apprentices, were about to face the most brutal—and transformative—training of their lives.

And the countdown to the World Youth Exhibition had truly begun.

Sharpner & Yamcha – The Wild Wolf's Path

Sharpner stood before Yamcha with narrowed eyes, a mix of excitement and unease. He knew Yamcha as the pro baseball star, not as a martial artist. That changed the moment Yamcha dropped into a stance and let out a burst of controlled Ki that shattered a boulder nearby.

"Let's get one thing straight," Yamcha said with a smirk. "This ain't the minor leagues. You wanna win? You're going to learn the Wolf Fang Fist."

The training was fast, aggressive, and relentless. Yamcha focused on footwork, unpredictable movement, and chaining combos that simulated pack tactics. Sharpner, who had brute strength but little finesse, began to find a rhythm, his muscles responding more fluidly under pressure.

By the end of their session, Yamcha patted him on the back. "You're rough around the edges, but you've got heart, kid. Keep up, and you might just pull off something crazy."

Erasa & Krillin – Speed, Technique, and Heart

Erasa's session with Krillin was entirely different. Krillin was warm and encouraging but didn't hold back. "We're going to make you faster and sharper than ever. Technique over power, always."

They worked on evasion, counters, and precise targeting. Krillin taught her how to conserve energy and use her opponent's momentum against them. She learned how to breathe through her strikes and how to manipulate her Ki like water—flowing and sharp.

"Power means nothing if you can't hit your opponent," Krillin said with a chuckle. "And trust me, the strongest warriors are the ones who think on their feet."

Erasa, ever the quick learner, soaked it all in with a spark in her eyes. The shy, curious girl from the city was becoming something new—a real martial artist.

Videl & Chichi – The Iron Fist of Motherhood

Videl had expected Goku or even Piccolo to train her. But when Chichi stood firm, her eyes fierce and steady, Videl didn't dare protest.

"You want strength? I'll give you the kind that built this family."

Chichi's style wasn't about flash. It was raw, practical, and unrelenting. She taught Videl powerful strikes, body hardening techniques, and how to use every ounce of force efficiently. Each kata was done in mid-air, with the metal turtle shell dialed up.

"You have to fight like your life depends on it," Chichi said during their breaks. "Because one day, it just might."

Videl saw the fire in her eyes—the strength that once stood toe-to-toe with warriors from other worlds. It gave her new respect for the woman she once saw only as Gohan's strict mother.

The afternoon sun hung lazily over the mountaintop, casting long shadows across the clearing where the trio sat together—Erasa, Sharpner, and Videl. Training had ended for the day, and their bodies ached with exhaustion, but their minds were still restless. Each of them nursed a bottle of water, occasionally glancing toward the distant cliff where Gohan and Goku sparred in bursts of blinding speed and controlled power.

Erasa leaned back on her elbows, her eyes following Gohan's movements. "You ever stop and think… just how strong Gohan really is?"

Videl nodded slowly. "He doesn't act like it. But when he moves… when he fights… there's this pressure. Like he's holding back something huge."

Sharpner, ever the skeptic turned believer, grunted. "It's like being next to a storm that hasn't broken yet."

Their curiosity had reached a tipping point.

So they asked.

Videl approached Chichi while helping in the kitchen, the scent of stew lingering in the air.

"Mrs. Son… how strong is Gohan, really?"

Chichi looked up from slicing vegetables, her expression softening. "My Gohan? He's the kind of boy who never wanted to fight. He'd rather read books or help someone than throw a punch." She paused, then smiled. "But when he fights… he does it from the heart. Every strike, every movement—it's for someone he wants to protect, not for pride or power."

She stirred the pot gently. "His strength doesn't come from his fists. It comes from his love."

Sharpner tossed the question to Yamcha during a cooldown jog around the hills.

"Yamcha… what do you think of Gohan? Like, seriously."

Yamcha chuckled. "Kid's a freakin' miracle, man."

He slowed his pace and looked out at the horizon. "You ever seen someone so gentle that wild animals calm down just being near him—but at the same time, you know he could knock out a dinosaur if he needed to?"

He clapped a hand on Sharpner's shoulder. "That's Gohan. Stronger than he knows. Stronger than most know. But he doesn't show it unless he has to. It's not about domination with him. It's about doing what's right—even when it's hard."

Erasa asked Krillin after a meditation session by the waterfall.

Krillin's response was thoughtful. "Gohan's the type of person who makes you want to be better—just by existing."

He glanced at the water. "You know what's funny? Sometimes I forget how young he is. But when you see him fight... it's like watching someone who carries the weight of others without complaining."

He turned to Erasa with a gentle smile. "Gohan fights like he's not the most important person in the world. And that's exactly what makes him so powerful."

Later that night, the trio gathered again by the campfire. Gohan had gone inside, and the stars were beginning to peek through the darkening sky. The three exchanged a glance, the same question on their minds.

Finally, Videl voiced it. "What about Goku?"

All the masters—Chichi, Yamcha, and Krillin—were nearby, and they heard the question.

A long silence followed.

Yamcha was the first to speak. "Goku… he's something else entirely."

Krillin chuckled, shaking his head. "You train your whole life thinking you'll reach the top… and then you realize Goku's still climbing ten steps ahead of you—smiling."

Chichi folded her arms, her voice both proud and exasperated. "He's the kind of man who always sees the next mountain. Not because he wants to show off—but because he believes he can always be better."

Krillin added softly, "Even Gohan… as strong as he is… he's still chasing after his dad. We all are."

The words hung in the air like a sacred truth. Gohan's strength wasn't about power. It was about heart. And Goku's greatness wasn't about being unbeatable—it was about being unshakably driven.

Erasa clenched her fists, eyes wide with new resolve.

Sharpner rolled his shoulders, fire burning in his veins. "Alright… enough wondering."

Videl's gaze drifted upward to the stars. "Let's stop dreaming about their level. Let's earn it."

The campfire crackled quietly as the three made a silent promise: to train harder, dig deeper, and climb higher—not to match Gohan or Goku, but to become the strongest version of themselves.

And the World Youth Exhibition was going to be the first step.