Chapter Text
My days are a tapestry woven with threads of routine and punctuated by fleeting moments of novelty. Each morning I rise and embark on the familiar pilgrimage to my workplace, where I immerse myself in the day's tasks. As the sun begins to set, I retrace my steps homeward, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of my abode. Evenings are a canvas of leisure, painted with strokes of camaraderie with cherished friends, immersive dives into captivating video games, and enthralling journeys through the animated world of Dragon Ball. Yet, amidst this predictable rhythm, life occasionally throws a curveball, a chance encounter with a long-lost acquaintance, a tender connection with a wandering cat, or an unexpected brush with the audacity of a petty thief.
I've noticed that my routine has become quite monotonous lately: wake up, work, sleep, and repeat. While I do experience moments of happiness, the challenges I face often seem to overshadow those brief joys. However, I find solace in Dragon Ball Z, which has become a source of inspiration for me. Each time I watch the show or come across fan art of the characters, I can't help but smile. If I had to choose a fictional world I’d love to be a part of, Dragon Ball would be at the top of my list without a doubt. But I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that if such a person dies, they’ll be reborn in another world; that kind of thinking only happens in fanfiction or manhwas.
At least, that’s what I thought at the time.
I can still recall it as if it happened just moments ago—my last day in the world I cherished. I was in my living room, immersed in a game of Call of Duty: Black Ops 6 with my friends, battling the opposing team in search and destroy. It was part of my daily routine, something I enjoyed every day. Yet, that day felt remarkably different. In the midst of the game, an overwhelming wave of fatigue hit me. I felt tired—no, REALLY tired.
I left my character vulnerable in the digital battlefield as I paused the game. My friends noticed and asked what was wrong, but I simply told them I was feeling a bit under the weather and needed to lie down. They didn't press further, deciding to continue playing the game without me. After turning my console off, I went to my room and collapsed on my bed. As I closed my eyes, a strange sensation washed over me, followed by darkness enveloping my vision. The sound of the world around me gave way to silence.
My eyes slowly opened. I was met with a glimmering light emerging in the darkness. illuminating the obscurity like a beacon of optimism. I could hardly fathom what lay before my eyes. Enveloped in an abyss of pitch blackness for an extended duration, I had become convinced that either my vision had forsaken me or I had never possessed the gift of sight to begin with.
Yet there it was; a solitary point of radiance in the distance. To my further astonishment, additional specks of light materialized one by one, flickering into existence without a whisper until I found myself entirely encircled by these minuscule particles on every side. What perplexed me was that these luminous entities failed to alleviate the engulfing darkness that surrounded him.
They simply materialized while presenting nothing but their luminosity. After enduring a prolonged absence of visual stimuli, their resplendent glow proved sufficient for him. The luminous entities did not cease their presence there, though. In due course, they commenced a gradual transition, meandering in various directions with a deliberate, almost mesmerizing motion.
Their movements accelerated even as I observed. Transforming into naught but streaks of white within my field of vision. Overwhelmed by the spectacle, I promptly shut my eyes and averted my gaze. Yet, regardless of my vantage point, I found no respite. I had beheld that initial glimmer with a sense of awe and inquisitiveness radiating from my eyes. As I kept my eyes shut against the maddening spiral of bright lights, one question eventually won out in the end.
What happened? Is…is this a dream?
My thoughts screeched to a halt as my whole dark world flashed in white. In an instant, all was restored to a state of tranquil serenity. My eyes blinked open as I found myself facing the ceiling. Followed by the sound of a baby crying. I slowly sat up on my rear, and turned my gaze towards the source. My eyes landed on a baby laying on a crib, his eyes closed tight while tears welled up in them.
He had three bangs hanging to the right of his forehead and two bangs hanging to the left. His hair also stands up in the front with four spikes and three bangs in the back. The baby boy also had a tail that swished and swayed between his legs. I couldn’t comprehend the boy I was witnessing, the legend himself known to all as Son Goku.
As I listened to Goku's anguished cries echoing through the room, I noticed a soft, muffled sniffling that seemed to intertwine with his wails. Curiosity drew my gaze to the adjacent crib, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight before me. There, nestled in the bedding, was none other than the legendary Super Saiyan, Broly. His demeanor was softened in sleep, yet his face was marred by traces of sorrow; tears glistened on his cheeks, remnants of a dream that clearly troubled him. The relentless sound of Goku’s wails seemed to disturb him further, creating an atmosphere of palpable sadness. It was a stark contrast to the often fearsome warrior I watched in the movies—a haunting juxtaposition of strength and vulnerability that made my chest ache.
At last, I took a moment to really look at myself. My shock grew even more as I gazed wide-eyed at my new form. No longer was I in the body of an adult; instead, I found myself in the body of a Saiyan baby. My arms and legs were delightfully chubby, just as you’d expect from an infant. Meanwhile, my tail lay comfortably sprawled out in the crib. My black spiky hair reached down my back and I had three bangs hanging over my temples.
My thoughts often drifted back to my previous life as I lay in my crib. I found myself frequently replaying memories from the past, which felt quite strange since I was in such a different stage now. If I had to put my feelings into words, I would say it was like watching the deeply emotional autobiography of a beloved family member. No matter how embarrassing those memories might have been, I found myself longing to re-experience them in some way. Whether it’s boring days of school, joyous reunions with family, major events, a part of me just felt hollow knowing that none of that mattered here.
I slowly closed my eyes. It’s not just the shock of being reborn; it’s the overwhelming sense of loss that lingers like a shadow. Imagine waking up one day in a crib, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, yet knowing that you once had a life filled with memories, friends, and dreams. The irony is that my new parents, blissfully unaware of their child’s unique predicament, expect me to behave like any other infant. But how can I?
Every coo feels like a betrayal to the person I used to be. I can’t help but wonder if my new parents would even want me if they knew the truth. Each day would be a balancing act, trying to fit into a role that feels so foreign while grappling with the remnants of my past. It'll be exhausting, and right now I wish I could just scream out my frustrations, but that would only raise more questions. So I sat here, silently battling with the reality of my situation, wishing for a way to reconcile my old life with this new bewildering existence.
I chewed on my lip. The memories flood back with vivid clarity. I could see the faces of loved ones, hear the laughter that once filled my days, and feel the warmth of hugs that seemed like a distant echo. It was a bittersweet experience, reliving those moments while being trapped in the innocence of infancy. Each tear that slipped down my cheek was a reminder of the life I had lived, the joys and sorrows that shaped me. It was as if I was caught in a loop, oscillating between the simplicity of babyhood and the complexity of my past, each memory a thread woven into the fabric of my being.
The tapestry of my past is woven with a myriad of emotions. Each thread represents a distinct memory that I long to revisit. Even the most mundane days at school, filled with lectures and homework, hold a certain charm when viewed through the lens of nostalgia. I find myself reminiscing about family gatherings, where laughter filled the air and stories were shared, creating bonds that seemed unbreakable at the time. However, the reality of my current situation leaves me feeling incomplete, as if those cherished moments are just out of reach.
I sift through my mind recalling the faces of those I once knew. Some barely left an impression beyond a name and a fleeting interaction, while others were integral to my journey, their presence brightening my days. The memories of our shared hangouts, the laughter and the mischief we indulged in, serve as a bittersweet reminder of the connections that have faded. Each recollection is a testament to a life lived fully, yet it also highlights the void I now feel, a longing for the warmth of those experiences that once defined me. But the most painful were the people that I got really close to; the bonds that I painstakingly forged with them had all been disintegrated.
I blinked. The sound of Goku's cries snapping me back to reality. I glanced to my right, where Goku was, and shifted in my crib. Without a second thought, I leaped over to Broly’s crib, then jumped again until I landed directly in front of Goku. I crawled slowly towards him and reached out, gently placing my hand on his head. Goku’s wailing finally ceased from my touch alone.
Now he just whimpers quietly as I pat his head. I continued patting his head until his face softened, and began to snore. I pulled my hand back, turned away from the now sleeping Goku, and leaped over to Broly’s crib. But before I could make another leap, I noticed something from the corner of my eye. I turned to my left and my eyes blinked in surprise: Broly was awake.
Broly sat upright and stared blankly at me. I was still as we both fell into a staring contest, neither one of us moving or blinking. I dared not move from my spot, nor did I breathe. I didn’t know why he was staring at me. But something primal Inside of me; the pure instinct that tells a deer it’s being watched was in full alarm. I slowly turned away from Broly and was about to leap back to my crib.
But Broly suddenly closed the distance between us. I felt a jolt as I met his vacant gaze the moment he drew near, his nose mere inches from mine. He blinked at me, unblinking in his expression, and I mirrored his blink, caught in the moment. After a stretch of silence, I felt his pudgy hand wrap around my left arm. My eyes flickered from his grip to his eyes as I instinctively tried to pull away, only to be astonished by the strength of his hold—an iron grip, astonishingly strong for a baby! Broly pulled me close to him until we both laid down opposite sides on his crib.
Not once did Broly take his eyes off of me. My heart pounded against my rib cage, wanting nothing more than to get out of this situation. After another few minutes Broly’s eyes started to close. His grip on my arm lessened, allowing me the opportunity to finally pull my arm back. I crawled slowly away from Broly’s sleeping form and leapt back Into my bed.
I laid back down and tried to get some sleep.
The Saiyan nurse walked beside the doctor with his keen eyes scanning the medical files in his hands. They navigated the bustling hallway, turning the corner, then approached an open doorway that revealed a remarkable sight—an expansive room brimming with dozens of children nestled in their carts. Each infant swaddled in soft blankets bore a numerical identification. The quiet hum of monitors and the gentle rise and fall of tiny chests filled the air, creating a tranquil ambiance in what could easily have been a chaotic scene. It was a poignant tableau, with each sleeping infant oblivious to the world around them, protected under the watchful eyes of dedicated caregivers.
“Doctor, you notice it too, right?” The saiyan nurse asked.
The saiyan doctor nodded.
“Yeah, usually that Kakarot boy is crying like a banji,” the saiyan doctor replied. “But now he’s surprisingly asleep.”
The nurse saiyan points at Broly.
“And look at that, even Broly is fast asleep,” the nurse said.
The Saiyan doctor glanced at the nurse.
“Well, let’s head back. We got another baby on the way,” the Saiyan doctor said, turning away towards the doorway that led to the hall. “Once we come back, we must take their power levels down for the count.”
Before the nurse could follow, his eyes landed on the baby saiyan girl.
“Hey, what’s the name of that girl?” The saiyan nurse asked, pointing at the sleeping baby.
The saiyan doctor stared at the girl infant.
“Rhumba,” the saiyan doctor replied. “She is, um, the daughter of a good friend of mine.”
The saiyan nurse shifted his gaze back at the doctor.
“You mean the one that died in battle?” The saiyan nurse inquired.
The saiyan doctor nodded before turning away into the hallway. The saiyan nurse looked back at the girl infant, and shook his head.
“Mighty shame your mother died, kid. She won’t be around to see you grow to be a warrior,” the saiyan nurse muttered under his breath.
The saiyan nurse turned away and followed the doctor down the hall.