The next morning at Capsule Corp, Y/N sat on the sofa, bouncing baby Trunks on her knee as the sound of Bulma typing away at her computer filled the room. Her father, looking noticeably stronger, rested on a nearby recliner with a book in hand. Though still pale, his color had improved, and his voice had grown stronger. He'd been insisting on returning to the village, but Bulma flat-out refused.

"I'm not letting you go back until I'm sure you're at least 90% recovered," she'd told him over breakfast. "Besides, you're getting along with Vegeta, so it's not so bad here, right?" Her teasing tone earned her a grunt from the Saiyan prince and a chuckle from her dad.

Y/N's father had indeed found unexpected common ground with Vegeta—largely through mutual respect for discipline and strength. Despite Vegeta's gruff exterior, he'd occasionally join her father for quiet conversations on the balcony or while watching Trunks.

Y/N smiled at the baby in her arms as he reached for her hair, pulling it with surprising strength. "Okay, Trunks, let's not rip my hair out," she laughed, gently untangling his little fingers. The morning was peaceful, but she couldn't help feeling a bit restless.

Just then, Vegeta entered the room, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. "Woman," he called to Bulma, "your parts order is ready for pickup. I'm going to get it."

"Good," Bulma replied without looking up. "Don't forget to double-check the invoice this time."

Vegeta scowled but didn't argue. Instead, he turned to Y/N. "You. We're leaving. Get up."

"Me?" Y/N asked, surprised.

"Yes, you. Unless you have something better to do than sit around drooling over the brat."

She raised an eyebrow but set Trunks down in his playpen. "Alright, I'll bite. Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Y/N shrugged and followed him out. The streets of West City were bustling as always, the two of them walking in relative silence. Vegeta led the way with his usual air of confidence, while Y/N found herself lost in thought. Memories of her father's near-death experience and the mysterious beings who'd attacked their village weighed heavily on her mind. She'd always been the type to act first and think later, but this... this was different.

"Why do you look like you've got a stick up your ass?" Vegeta's blunt question snapped her out of her reverie.

"What?" she asked, blinking.

"You've been frowning for the past ten minutes. Spit it out," he demanded.

Y/N hesitated. "Do you... know anything about other universes?"

Vegeta stopped in his tracks, turning to her with a stunned expression. "Other universes? What are you talking about?"

She bit her lip, debating how much to share. Finally, she sighed. "My dad... He's not from here. Not from this universe, I mean."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

"He told me a little about it recently," she began. "He came from a different universe, fleeing from... something. He never gave me all the details, but whatever it was, it's still looking for him. For us."

For once, Vegeta was at a loss for words. He'd encountered his fair share of strange phenomena, but the idea of entire other universes existing beyond their own was a revelation. After a moment, he crossed his arms. "Hmph. That's... unexpected. But it explains why those things attacked your village."

"Yeah," Y/N said quietly. "And it's why I'm not sure I can ever go back home. Not until I'm strong enough to protect everyone."

Vegeta grunted. "Then train. Stop wallowing in self-pity and do something about it."

She looked up at him, surprised by the uncharacteristic advice hidden beneath his gruff tone. "You're right."

As they continued walking, Y/N's eyes caught a brightly colored poster plastered to a nearby wall. It advertised a martial arts tournament with a grand prize that made her stop in her tracks.

"Hey, look at this!" she said, pointing.

Vegeta glanced at the poster, unimpressed. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Are you entering?"

He scoffed. "No. Everyone there would be too weak to make it worth my time."

"What about Goku?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "The clown? Probably. He can't resist a fight, even if it's beneath him."

Y/N's mind raced. "If the prize money is real, it could really help my dad and the village."

Vegeta shrugged. "Then enter. If you can't win, you have no business worrying about protecting anyone."

His words, harsh as they were, struck a chord. Determined, Y/N decided to head to the lookout after they got back to train with Piccolo. But a pang of doubt crept in. Could she really go back to the village knowing she might bring danger with her?

As they returned to Capsule Corp, Y/n's father was sitting with Bulma, going over some schematics she was excitedly explaining. Vegeta grumbled as he handed her the parts, muttering something about "a waste of time."

Y/N smiled faintly as she watched her father's interactions with Bulma and Vegeta. Despite everything, she felt a strange sense of belonging here. But she couldn't shake the feeling that her time with them was borrowed. She had to prepare for whatever lay ahead, no matter how uncertain it seemed.

Her father noticed them first, his gaze narrowing as he spotted Y/N's deep-in-thought expression. "You two were gone for a while," he said, his voice steady but curious.

"We ran into a distraction," Vegeta grumbled, crossing his arms as he stopped by Bulma's side.

"Distraction?" her father asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Y/N saw some ridiculous poster and decided she needed to train for some tournament," Vegeta replied, his tone laced with mockery, though there was a hint of approval in his smirk.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but before she could reply, her father stood. "A tournament, huh? What's the prize?"

"Enough to help the village," Y/N said simply, meeting his gaze.

Her father's expression softened, but a flicker of concern crossed his face. "You're sure about this? You've been through a lot already."

"I'm sure," Y/N replied with determination. "But I was thinking... Dende might be able to help you heal a bit more. Maybe you could come with me to the Lookout?"

Her father hesitated, glancing at Bulma. "I don't want to be a burden."

"You won't be," Bulma chimed in. "If Dende can speed up your recovery, why not take the chance?"

He still seemed uncertain, but Y/N placed a hand on his arm. "Come on, Dad. Besides, you can see where I've been training."

After a moment, he sighed. "Alright. But only because you insist."

The trip to the Lookout was peaceful, with her father alongside Y/N as she led the way. Vegeta had decided to stay behind, muttering something about "wasting his time babysitting." When they landed, Dende greeted them warmly.

"Y/N, back again?" Dende asked with a smile.

"She brought me along this time," her father said, stepping forward. "Y/n thought you might be able to help me recover faster."

Dende nodded, his expression turning serious as he approached. "Let's see what I can do."

Raising his hands, Dende summoned a soft green glow that enveloped her father. The air seemed to hum with energy as the Namekian Guardian focused his powers. When the glow faded, her father inhaled deeply, his movements more fluid than before.

"Thank you," he said, flexing his hands and stretching. "I feel... much better."

"It's not perfect," Dende said modestly, "but it should help you recover more quickly."

Piccolo stepped out from the shadows, his eyes narrowing as he studied Y/N. "You're late again."

"I was bringing reinforcements," Y/N shot back with a grin, motioning toward her father.

Piccolo's gaze shifted to the older man. "Reinforcements, huh? We'll see about that."

Y/N's training began almost immediately, with Piccolo pushing her harder than usual. Her movements were more precise, her strikes faster, but she still had a long way to go. Her father watched from the sidelines, his expression unreadable.

When the session ended, Y/N dropped to the ground, catching her breath.

"You've improved," her father said, walking over to her.

"Thanks," she replied, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"How about a spar?" he asked casually.

Y/N blinked, surprised. "You want to spar with me?"

"Why not?" he said, a faint smile on his lips. "I've been resting long enough. Let's see what you've got."

Piccolo raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "This I've got to see."

Though hesitant, Y/N nodded. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."

They squared off, her father moving with a confidence that caught Y/N off guard. She started with a few light jabs, testing the waters, but he countered each one with ease. His movements were calculated and precise, forcing Y/N to step up her game.

"Not bad for an old man," she quipped, dodging a strike.

"I've had my share of practice," he replied, smirking.

As the spar continued, Y/N found herself struggling to keep up. Her father's technique was polished, his strikes powerful and deliberate. Even Piccolo seemed impressed, his arms crossed as he watched.

When the match finally ended, Y/N dropped to one knee, panting. "Okay, you win," she admitted, laughing breathlessly.

Her father chuckled, extending a hand to help her up. "You're good, Y/N. But there's always room to grow."

Piccolo approached, his expression serious but not unkind. "You've got potential," he said to her father. "If you trained seriously, you could surpass her."

"Hey!" Y/N protested, though she couldn't help but smile.

Her father laughed, waving off the comment. "I think I'll leave the heroics to her. But... it's nice to know I haven't lost my edge."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the three of them sat together on the Lookout, enjoying the cool breeze. Y/N leaned back, feeling a sense of peace she hadn't felt in weeks.

Her father glanced at her, his expression softening. "You've grown a lot, you know."

"Thanks, Dad," she said, smiling.

The journey ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, Y/N felt like she was on the right path. With her father and friends by her side, she was ready to face whatever came next.

A/n- I hope you enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think! Also I plan to have another chapter out for the holidays!!!!