The Beginning of Training

Six years later.

Deep in Mount Paozu, in a clearing.

"Ha!"

A childish yet powerful shout rang out as a small figure shot forward like a cannonball. His fist tore through the air with a sharp whistle, heading straight for the white-haired old man's face.

Son Gohan's white beard fluttered backward in the wind of the punch.

"Too direct."

The old man spoke calmly and shifted half a step to the side, his body drifting like a willow fluff. He deftly redirected the wooden staff in his hand, guiding it along with a light touch. The movement was as effortless as brushing away a fallen leaf, yet it precisely caught Son Goku by the wrist.

"Whoa—"

Son Goku felt his strength drawn aside by a clever turn. He stumbled forward, unable to stop himself. But he reacted quickly, pushing off with his toes and flipping in midair with the momentum. His tail snapped behind him with a sharp crack, and he landed steadily.

"Your center of gravity is still too high." Son Gohan withdrew his staff, his voice unhurried. "No matter how strong you are, if your feet aren't planted, you're just giving your opponent an opening."

"Again!"

Son Goku wasn't the least bit discouraged. He grinned, a defiant light burning in his eyes. He took a deep breath—

"Hyah!"

He pushed off, leaving a shallow dent in the ground. Soil and bits of stone sprayed in every direction. He was faster than before, and his punches were trickier. His left fist feinted, leaving an afterimage; his right fist struck for real, wrapped in a heavy whoosh. At the same time, his furry tail swept low with a swish, aiming straight for Son Gohan's legs.

"Oh?"

Son Gohan's eyebrows rose slightly. That move... His fists, body, and tail had attacked from three directions at once. He was already using his tail like a third arm.

He stopped dodging entirely and held his staff crosswise.

"Thud!"

A muffled impact boomed through the woods.

Son Gohan's hand tingled around the staff, and two shallow furrows appeared where his feet had slid across the ground. He had actually... been pushed back half a step.

"Atta boy." Son Gohan's eyes lit up, his white beard quivering. "You're twice as strong as you were last month. Be honest—did you sneak off and eat some magic herbs?"

"No!" Son Goku landed, his tail swishing excitedly. "I just kept thinking about what you said, Grandpa—'Every punch should feel like there's a wild beast chasing you!'"

"I only said that offhand, and you actually took it to heart."

"Of course I did!" Son Goku nodded earnestly. "I remember every single thing you've ever said, Grandpa!"

Son Gohan felt a warmth in his heart, though he didn't show it. He raised his staff and took his stance. "All right. Let's see how much you've learned over these six years!"

The two figures moved at the same time.

"Thud!" "Thud!" "Thud!"

Fists crossed, and legs swept through the air with a whoosh.

Son Goku was like a tireless little beast, every move brimming with wildness.

His moves weren't a practiced routine. They were instincts honed over six years of fighting wild animals in the mountains. If his fist missed, he used his knee. If his knee was blocked, he rammed his head forward. If he was knocked away, he twisted his waist in midair to adjust his posture. Before he even landed, his tail touched the ground like a spring, then rebounded to give him a boost.

"I'm not done yet!"

The twelve-year-old boy was steaming with heat. His martial arts uniform clung to his body, soaked with sweat, but the fire burning in his eyes only grew stronger.

The longer Son Gohan fought, the more astonished he became.

Six years ago, the boy had been a child who'd fallen off a cliff and still had to learn how to count from the beginning. Now—

He raised his hand to deflect a straight punch and countered with a swing of his staff.

—Now, he was forcing the old man to use ninety percent of his strength just to keep up.

In all his decades of martial arts training, he'd never seen anyone grow so quickly.

He was practically inhuman.

The thought surfaced again. Son Gohan's pupils narrowed slightly, and his movements faltered for an instant.

Son Goku didn't let the opening go to waste.

"Ha!"

He darted forward and drove a punch straight toward his middle.

Son Gohan came back to himself, raised his left hand in a tight guard, and caught the small fist.

"Stop."

The old man spoke a single word.

They both stopped and took a step back.

Son Goku panted heavily, bracing his hands on his knees as sweat dripped from his chin onto the ground. But he didn't look tired at all. Instead, he wore a satisfied smile. "Grandpa, I hit you three times today! That's one more than yesterday!"

"...Three times?" Son Gohan looked down at the front of his martial arts uniform. Sure enough, there were three faint fist marks. He froze for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. "Hahahaha! Good! Atta boy! Keep this up, and before long Grandpa will be the one running from you!"

"I'd never hit you, Grandpa." Son Goku spoke earnestly, then grinned. "But tomorrow, let's see if I can hit you four times!"

Son Gohan laughed and shook his head, then leaned on his staff and sat on a nearby rock. He patted the stone beside him, inviting Son Goku to sit too.

The mountain breeze swept by, carrying away the heat from the old man and the boy.

Son Goku sat on the rock, swinging his legs. His tail swayed lightly in rhythm. He looked over at Son Gohan and suddenly felt that his grandpa seemed different today.

Usually, Grandpa was very stern while training him. But today... there seemed to be something else mixed in with the sternness. It was a little like the autumn mist on Mount Paozu—thin, yet somehow heavy.

"Grandpa, is something on your mind?"

"...You noticed, huh?" Son Gohan fell silent for a moment, then slowly began. "Goku, you've been training for six years, and your fundamentals are solid now. When it comes to fighting, to be honest, there's not much more I can teach you."

Son Goku stopped swinging his legs.

"Starting today—" Son Gohan turned to face him and sat cross-legged, his expression more solemn than ever. "Grandpa will teach you how to sense 'ki.'"

"'Ki'?"

Son Goku's ears almost stood straight up.

It was here! The core power system of the Dragon Ball world! The Kamehameha, Flying Technique, Spirit Bomb... All those earth-shattering techniques were rooted in this!

"Everything has ki," Son Gohan said gravely. "This mountain has ki. This tree has ki. The wind has ki as it blows past, and the stream has ki as it flows over the rocks. Birds and beasts have ki, and people have even more."

He held out his hand, palm facing up. His rough, calloused hand seemed to be holding something invisible, yet heavy.

"In martial arts training, strength and speed are only the basics. True masters have all reached the pinnacle of controlling ki. Close your eyes."

Son Goku obediently closed his eyes.

"Clear your mind." Son Gohan's voice grew slow and low. "Don't rely only on your eyes to see or your ears to hear. Use your whole body to feel. Feel the temperature of the wind on your skin. Feel the ground trembling beneath your feet. Feel the ki of every living thing around you..."

Darkness.

At first, there was only darkness.

But Saiyans were born with a sharper instinct for battle than Earthlings. The door had simply remained closed for the past six years. And now—

Slowly, he began to feel it.

The wind. Not the touch of it on his skin, but... a flowing mass, carrying a faint coolness as it came through the woods on his left, brushed his cheek, then flowed toward the valley on his right.

The insects chirping in the grass. A few inches beneath the soil, an earthworm was slowly wriggling. In a distant tree, a squirrel was gnawing on a pinecone. Each "crunch, crunch" sounded so clear, as if it were right next to his ear.

Then—

His breathing suddenly caught for a beat.

Less than five paces in front of him was a presence... beyond description.

Warm and immense. Like a silent volcano, its surface calm, its depths hiding unfathomable power. Like the sea, deep and vast, every swell carrying the weight of time.

This was—

"Can you feel it?" Son Gohan's voice seemed to come from far, far away.

Son Goku's eyes flew open.

Son Gohan's aged, kindly face was reflected in those bright black eyes. In that moment, he saw more than just "Grandpa." He saw the source of that warm ki—a true martial artist.

"I can feel it!" Excitement spilled into his voice. "Your ki is so strong, Grandpa!"

Son Gohan's eyes suddenly grew moist.

"...Atta boy." His voice trembled slightly as his rough hand gently rested on Son Goku's head. "Back when Grandpa trained under Master Roshi, it took me a whole month to sense ki."

He raised one finger. "You... did it in less than an hour."

"That's because you're such a good teacher, Grandpa!"

"Don't flatter me." Son Gohan tried to sound stern, but his white beard curled upward with pride. "It can only mean one thing—you're more gifted than Grandpa."

He withdrew his hand and stood, gazing into the distance.

"Goku, do you remember the stories I told you about Master Roshi?"

"I do!" Son Goku hopped down from the rock. "You said he was the greatest martial artist in the world! Your teacher!"

"That's right." Son Gohan sounded wistful. "Go find Master Roshi. He'll teach you what Grandpa can't and take you to heights Grandpa could never reach."

Son Goku looked up and met his grandpa's eyes. They were filled with reluctance, yet utterly resolute, and a sudden pang of sadness welled up inside him.

"Grandpa..."

"Don't worry about me." Son Gohan bent down and gently rested his rough hands on Son Goku's shoulders, smoothing the wrinkles in his martial arts uniform one by one. "I may be old, but I can still handle a few wolves or bears in the mountains. And—"

He straightened up and ruffled Son Goku's hair. His hand was warm and strong.

"Once you're out there, don't think only about training. Make a few friends, eat plenty of good food, and see how vast the world is." He paused, his voice softening. "Just come back and visit Grandpa when you can."

"I'll come back." Son Goku's voice was quiet, but he put weight behind every word. "I promise."

Son Gohan smiled.

There was sadness in that smile, but even more pride.

"Grandpa never doubted you. Now that you've decided, you should set out tomorrow!"

Son Goku reckoned that, according to the original story's timeline, this was about when Bulma should be arriving at Mount Paozu.

"Okay!" Son Goku replied.

One more thing worth mentioning: perhaps because of the soul of the person who had crossed over, Son Goku still retained his consciousness when he transformed into a Great Ape. That was what had allowed him to train peacefully for the past six years.