~~~~~

The house was quiet.

Chi-Chi stood at the kitchen sink, staring blankly out the window as the sun set behind the mountains. The last remnants of dinner sat untouched on the table, cold and forgotten. In the next room, Gohan sat on the floor with his books, his tiny fingers tracing over the characters as he muttered under his breath, struggling through another lesson. Goku was nowhere to be seen. Of course he wasn't. He had left after dinner, saying something about training, about keeping their family safe, about staying strong.

Chi-Chi's fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. She had long since stopped believing him.

At first, she had told herself it was love. That she could handle it. That being married to Goku—Son Goku, the strongest man on Earth, the hero of the world—was a blessing, not a curse. But as the years passed, the truth seeped into the cracks of her carefully constructed reality. This wasn't a marriage. This wasn't a partnership. It was a prison, one she had willingly stepped into, but a prison nonetheless.

She had never wanted this.

Not really.

She had wanted a family, yes. A husband. A child. A perfect, quiet life where she could be a good wife, a devoted mother. But that dream had shattered the moment she realized who she had married. Goku wasn't a husband. He wasn't a provider, a protector, a man who cared about anything beyond fighting. He was a child trapped in a man's body, laughing and grinning and running off at the first opportunity, leaving her behind to pick up the pieces. Leaving her to raise their son alone.

And Gohan...

Her eyes flickered to the boy in the other room. He sat with his back to her, hunched over the table, his dark hair sticking up in messy tufts—just like his father's. His nose was buried in a book, just like she had taught him. He was smart. Gifted. If she could shape him right, he would have the future she had been denied. A real future. A respectable one. No fighting, no running off to chase pointless battles. No reckless abandonment like his father.

But Gohan wasn't perfect.

He was sweet, yes. Kind. But there was too much of Goku in him. That same wide-eyed wonder. That same irritating tendency to daydream, to lose focus, to let his thoughts drift to things that had no place in the life she had planned for him. And worst of all... the power.

The raw, terrifying power.

She had seen it firsthand when the Saiyans came. Watched in horror as her little boy—her fragile, innocent son—had been thrown into battle, used as a weapon against monsters she could hardly comprehend. And Goku had allowed it. Encouraged it. If anything, he had been proud.

Chi-Chi had nearly lost her mind when they returned. She had screamed at him, at all of them. Had sworn she wouldn't allow it to happen again. And what had Goku done? Had he comforted her? Assured her that their son would be safe? No. He had laughed it off. Told her she was worrying too much. That Gohan was strong. That it was 'just how things were.'

How things were.

Her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. Is that what she was supposed to accept? That this was her life now? Stuck in a rundown house in the mountains with a husband who barely acknowledged her existence unless it was convenient? Raising a son who was already being pulled toward the same reckless, selfish path as his father?

No. No, she refused.

She had given everything for this family. Everything. And what had she gotten in return? A lonely, miserable existence. She wasn't a wife. She wasn't even a mother, not really. She was just a caretaker. A woman who cooked and cleaned and watched helplessly as her life slipped further and further away from what she had once dreamed.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. And she wasn't going to let it continue.

That night, after Gohan was asleep, Chi-Chi pulled out an old wooden box from beneath the bed. Inside, tucked between faded cloth and forgotten trinkets, was a small but growing stack of money. Coins, bills—anything she could scrape together without Goku noticing. It wasn't much. Not yet. But it would be.

She had been saving for months, little by little, slipping away whatever she could without raising suspicion. She wasn't stupid. She knew she couldn't just leave, not yet. Goku would come looking for her if she left too soon. Gohan might, too. She had to be careful. Had to be patient. But one day... one day, she would be free.

She didn't care where she went. Somewhere far. Somewhere where no one knew her name, where no one would look at her and see 'Goku's wife' or 'Gohan's mother.' Somewhere where she could be her own person, where she didn't have to wake up every day dreading the life she had trapped herself in.

She would leave them behind.

She would disappear, and she wouldn't look back.

The next morning, she went about her routine as usual. She cooked breakfast, scolded Gohan when he tried to sneak outside instead of finishing his reading, and nodded absently as Goku rambled about some new training method. But something had shifted inside her. A quiet resolve. A secret that only she knew.

And when Goku grinned at her like nothing was wrong, like everything was fine, she smiled back.

Because now, she had a plan.

~~~~

The sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains by the time Chi-Chi returned home, her arms weighed down with bags from the city. She kicked the door open with more force than necessary, barely paying attention as she stormed inside and dumped everything onto the table.

Goku and Gohan were gone.

Again.

Chi-Chi let out a frustrated huff as she yanked off her shoes, muttering under her breath. Of course, they weren't here. Of course, Goku had run off to do whatever it was he did, dragging Gohan along like a little shadow. She didn't know where they went, and she didn't care. It wasn't like they mattered anymore. Not really.

She had already left them in her mind.

Ignoring the bags on the table, she moved through the house with practiced efficiency, heading straight for the bedroom. She locked the door behind her before dropping to her knees beside the bed, reaching underneath it with familiar ease. Her fingers brushed against rough wood, and she pulled the box out into the dim light of the room.

Lifting the lid, a slow smirk pulled at her lips.

It was almost overflowing now.

Stacks of neatly folded bills, loose coins piled on top, all the money she had scraped together over the years. A little here, a little there, always careful, always subtle. Goku was too dense to notice. He never asked about money. Never asked about anything. She could have been emptying their entire savings, and he wouldn't have blinked. He had no clue what she did, what she planned.

And that was exactly how she wanted it.

A month. Just one more month, and she'd be gone.

She let the thought settle in, rolling over it like a sweet piece of candy in her mouth. It was so close now. She had waited years for this. Years of playing the role of a devoted wife, of pretending to care, of swallowing her disgust every time Goku grinned at her like a dumb, happy fool. Soon, she wouldn't have to anymore.

She pushed the box back under the bed and stood, brushing off her skirt before unlocking the door and heading for the front room. Yamcha should have been here by now.

As if on cue, a knock sounded at the door.

Chi-Chi smirked before composing herself, adopting the expression of a weary but dutiful wife as she opened it.

Yamcha stood there, shifting uncomfortably on the porch. His eyes darted around nervously before he stepped inside, scratching the back of his head. "You sure Goku's not around?"

She rolled her eyes. "Do you see him here?"

"Yeah, but—"

Chi-Chi grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside, slamming the door behind him. "Stop being such a coward. I told you, Goku is clueless. He barely notices when I leave, let alone who I talk to." She folded her arms, studying him with a sharp gaze. "Speaking of which, I need you to start spending more time with him."

Yamcha's face twisted. "What? Why?"

"To keep up appearances." Chi-Chi turned away, moving toward the bags on the table. She began sorting through them, pulling out new clothes, a sleek travel bag, and a few other necessities. "He's been getting suspicious lately. Not that he's smart enough to figure anything out, but I don't want to take any chances."

Yamcha hesitated, then crossed his arms. "Chi-Chi, I don't know... I mean, he's my friend. And Gohan—"

Chi-Chi's head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. "Are you really going to start growing a conscience now?"

Yamcha flinched but didn't back down. "Look, I—"

She stepped closer, trailing a finger up his chest before gripping his collar tightly. "I've been very generous with you, Yamcha," she murmured, her tone deceptively soft. "I let you into my bed. I've given you more than enough reason to listen to me." Her nails dug into the fabric. "Or do you want all of that to stop?"

Yamcha swallowed hard. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes darted away. "Fine," he muttered. "Whatever."

Chi-Chi smirked, releasing him. "Good. That's more like it."

Yamcha sighed heavily, rubbing his face. "So, what's the plan? You said a month?"

She nodded, folding a new set of clothes neatly into the bag. "Yes. We leave in one month. By then, I'll have everything sorted out. You just need to make sure you're ready."

He rubbed his neck. "I still think you should just tell Goku you're leaving. I mean, he's—"

"No."

Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. Yamcha clamped his mouth shut.

Chi-Chi inhaled slowly, reigning in her temper before she turned back to him. "I don't ask Goku for things. I don't need his permission. I've wasted enough of my life waiting for him to change. I refuse to waste another second explaining myself."

Yamcha let out a slow breath, nodding reluctantly. "Yeah... yeah, alright."

Chi-Chi watched him for a moment before her gaze darkened. "Actually, there's one more thing."

"What now?"

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Enter the tournament."

Yamcha blinked. "Huh?"

"The World Martial Arts Tournament." She waved a hand dismissively. "Goku hasn't even mentioned it yet. He might not even fight. And that would be a real shame, wouldn't it?"

Yamcha frowned. "You want him to fight?"

Chi-Chi huffed, crossing her arms. "Of course I do. If he's too focused on training, he won't notice anything else. And besides, he's useless when he's not fighting. He's like a lost puppy, just wandering around waiting for something to happen. At least if he's training, he's not here."

Yamcha looked uneasy but nodded. "Alright... I guess I could enter. But what if he doesn't? Wouldn't that be weird?"

"Then convince him." She smirked. "You two are friends, right? Just tell him it'll be fun."

Yamcha sighed, rubbing his temples. "Man, I don't know how I got roped into all this."

Chi-Chi tilted her head. "I do."

She stepped closer, pressing herself against him. One hand traced down his chest, nails grazing his skin through the fabric. Yamcha swallowed thickly as her fingers hooked into his belt, pulling him just slightly forward.

Her breath was hot against his ear. "Because you want this," she whispered. "Because you need this."

Yamcha let out a shaky breath. "Chi-Chi—"

Her grip tightened. "So be a good boy and listen."

A shiver ran down his spine. He hesitated, but in the end, just like always, he caved. "...Fine."

Chi-Chi smirked in satisfaction. "Good."

She released him and stepped back, returning to her bags as if nothing had happened. "Now, go home. And remember—spend more time with Goku. Make it seem like nothing's going on."

Yamcha exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just nodded.

Chi-Chi didn't bother watching as he left. She had more important things to do.

Her fingers traced over the smooth fabric of her new bag, the excitement bubbling in her chest.

Just one more month.

And then she would be free.