After the two had opened their hearts to each other, Bulma fell soundly asleep again. Perhaps she had accepted Son Gohan from the bottom of her heart, so she had no psychological defenses against her boyfriend at all.
Her sleeping position was rather unladylike. With herself completely exposed, Son Gohan couldn't help seeing places he shouldn't.
Bulma was sprawled out like a giant crab, and Son Gohan could only sigh helplessly. He got up again and pulled the blanket back over her after she had kicked it off.
Looking at her lovely face and graceful figure up close, Son Gohan was inexplicably compelled to lean down and kiss her.
After planting a light kiss on her cheek, he returned to his little nook and sat cross-legged.
Now that he had embarked on the path of cultivation, he naturally wouldn't slack off again.
You reaped what you sowed. If he didn't take the initiative to train hard, then even with his Saiyan body's heaven-defying constitution, he wouldn't achieve much.
Bulma's neck was faintly red where she lay on the bed. Perhaps she had met him again in her dreams.
At dawn, as the stars faded and dew gathered, Son Gohan opened his eyes and quietly took care of his morning routine.
Seeing that Bulma hadn't been disturbed at all, he tiptoed out once more.
This time, Master Roshi didn't have to prod them. The now-disciplined Krillin and the others had already lined up early. Yamcha and Krillin's faces were completely clear of marks; their superficial injuries had healed in just one night. Clearly, Son Gohan hadn't hit them too hard.
"Senior Brother!"
When Son Gohan emerged again, the two who had learned their lesson hurriedly bowed to show their respect. Son Gohan nodded slightly and greeted them with a "Morning."
Nearly