Power Trip: I Got Reborn in Dragon Ball with Broken Adaptation

The sun had just begun to dip behind the mountains surrounding West City, casting long golden streaks across Capsule Corp's towering dome. Kai, in a clean black shirt and dark jeans (under heavy protest), leaned against the wall near the front steps.

"I still don't see why I can't just wear my gi," he muttered.

Bulma's voice echoed from inside. "Because this is a date, not a martial arts tournament!"

"…So I can't throw any ki blasts?"

Bulma stepped into view, hands on her hips, wearing a sleek sky-blue dress with a high slit and silver heels that clicked against the tile. She gave him a once-over and smirked.

"You clean up better than I expected."

Kai gave a slow whistle, raising a brow. "Wow. You look like you belong on the cover of Rich Genius Weekly."

She rolled her eyes but smiled, brushing past him and taking his hand. "Come on. I'm not wasting this dress on the Capsule Corp cafeteria."

"You mean we're not just microwaving leftovers? I already mentally committed to pizza rolls."

"Too bad," she said sweetly. "We're going to a real place. Where people use menus."

Kai sighed dramatically. "Ugh. Fine. But if I have to read a wine list, I'm throwing myself into the nearest volcano."

The two sat at a fancy patio restaurant overlooking the glowing city skyline. Bulma ordered for both of them — a choice Kai was surprisingly okay with.

"Are you always this stubborn?" he asked between bites of grilled fish.

"You're dating me," she shot back.

He grinned. "True. I'm clearly into dangerous women."

As the meal went on, the tone softened. They teased, joked, laughed — Bulma recounting an embarrassing Goku childhood story, Kai chiming in with dry comments about Namek being a terrible vacation spot ("Terrible beaches. No nightlife. Mostly green.").

After dinner, they walked the city streets under glowing neon lights. Bulma held his hand with ease now, no hesitation. And Kai — despite all his bravado — held it back just as tightly.

"Thanks for tonight," she said, a little quieter now. "I know you're usually too busy saving the world to hang out like this."

"I mean," he shrugged, "saving the world's kind of exhausting. So is pretending not to want to spend time with you."

Her lips curled into a sly smile. "That was almost smooth."

"I moisturize daily."

She groaned. "Back to that again?"

Kai collapsed onto the couch with a satisfied groan.

"My back hurts."

"You literally tanked Frieza's punches without blinking."

"Yeah, and now I have emotional damage."

Bulma rolled her eyes and flicked the light off. "Come on. Bedtime."

Kai blinked. "I don't need sleep."

"You do tonight. With me."

"…I suddenly feel very tired."

She pulled him toward her room. "No funny business," she warned, though her tone betrayed no real resistance.

"Define funny."

"Anything involving ki blasts or weird alien metaphors."

When they finally curled into bed together, Kai let out a slow breath. It was warm. Familiar. Her hair smelled like citrus. Her hand rested on his chest, fingers curling slightly in his shirt. And for a long moment, everything felt… normal.

She leaned in, kissing him softly once, then again, slower. Their lips moved together in sync — gentle at first, then deeper, slower. His hand slid around her waist, her fingers brushed his jaw.

Eventually, breathless and tangled together, they paused.

"...You're a good kisser," she murmured.

"I studied on Earth."

When Kai finally drifted off — lulled by warmth, kisses, and the subtle weight of the day — he expected nothing. Just darkness.

Instead, he awoke in a space that wasn't space at all.

White. Infinite. No walls. No ground. No sky.

He blinked. "...Okay, either I died or I got dumped into a PlayStation loading screen."

A presence appeared before him — not walked, not flew. Just… was there.

He was tall, lean, almost androgynous. Dressed in white, glowing faintly like he'd been drawn in negative light. Hair a soft shade of silver, eyes aglow with quiet amusement.

"Hello, Kai."

Kai took a step back instinctively. "...Hi. Okay. Who are you?"

"I'm the one who brought you here."

Kai narrowed his eyes. "Here as in this room or here as in the Dragon Ball Universe?"

The being smiled. "Yes."

"...Okay, ominous glowy guy. What do I call you?"

"Call me Owen."

Kai blinked. "Owen? Like… Owen Wilson?"

The being raised a brow. "Would you prefer something incomprehensible? Xyr'vash of the Ninth Spiral? Because I can do that."

"No. No, Owen's fine. Very... approachable."

Owen chuckled. "Good. Then let's get to it. I'm bored. I brought you here because I want things to change. I want chaos. Evolution. You're doing well, but you're still playing it safe."

Kai crossed his arms. "I just curb-stomped Frieza."

"And I'm so proud." Owen beamed mockingly. "But you're just scratching the surface. What if you could take the Z-Fighters further? Push them to heights even they don't know exist?"

Kai tilted his head. "You want me to train them to be gods?"

"I want you to make this world interesting. No more strict canon. I want surprises. Drama. Growth. Something... different."

"And if I don't?"

Owen smiled, faint and unblinking. "Then I'll find someone else who will."

Kai's jaw clenched. "Right."

"But I chose you for a reason. You're smart. You're funny. You know how this world ticks — but you've also got the instincts to shake it up."

Kai looked away for a second, then back. "...What do you get out of this?"

Owen leaned forward. "A show."

The space rippled. The white cracked.

Kai gasped—then sat up in bed, back in Bulma's room, her breathing soft beside him.

Morning sunlight filtered in through the window.

Kai exhaled. "...What the hell was that?"

He looked at Bulma, curled into his side, peaceful.

He ran a hand down his face. "…This is gonna get weird."

----

Okay I guess we are throwing cannon out the window.