Adapting

The Son family home buzzes with activity as I approach.

Even from a distance, I can hear the cheerful chaos of many voices mingling together -

the Z Fighters and their families gathered for what Goku had enthusiastically described as a "welcome party" for me.

The modest house nestled in the mountains seems almost comically small for such a gathering.

I pause at the edge of the clearing, taking a moment to prepare myself. The memories I've inherited from both Goku and Vegeta make this place simultaneously familiar and foreign.

I recognize every tree, every stone path - yet I've never actually been here before as Vegito.

"Well, time to make my grand entrance," I mutter to myself with a smirk that feels natural on my face.

This confidence - this slight cockiness - seems to be uniquely part of my new existence as Vegito, neither purely Goku's humility nor Vegeta's arrogance, but something new born from their fusion.

As I approach the house, Krillin is the first to notice me. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in my imposing height.

"Whoa, I really wasn't paying attention last time!" he says, gesturing toward me. "The height difference is insane!"

"What can I say?" I reply with a casual shrug. "Some of us are just destined for greatness in all dimensions."

Krillin blinks, then laughs. "Well, you've definitely got a unique personality. Neither exactly Goku nor Vegeta."

"I'm the best of both worlds," I respond with a wink. "Lucky for all of you."

Conversations pause as attention shifts to me. The gathered friends and family members regard me with expressions ranging from curiosity to cautious friendliness.

Many of them had been at Capsule Corp when I made my wish to Shenron, but this is their first opportunity to interact with me in a social setting.

"Welcome!" Chi-Chi calls from the doorway, her tone polite but reserved.

I can see her still struggling to reconcile my appearance - so similar to her husband yet distinctly different - with the knowledge that I possess Goku's memories but am not him.

"Thank you for inviting me," I reply with a respectful nod, tempering my natural confidence with sensitivity to the complex situation.

Before anyone can say more, a blur of motion erupts from the house as Goten and Trunks race outside, skidding to a halt when they spot me.

"Vegito!" Goten exclaims, his eyes wide with excitement. "You came!"

Trunks approaches more cautiously, studying me with the analytical gaze he's inherited from his father. "So you're really not our dads anymore? But you have all their memories?"

The directness of the question catches me off guard. Leave it to children to address what adults dance around with polite euphemisms.

I kneel down to bring myself closer to their level, though even kneeling I remain taller than they are. "That's right, squirts. I have their memories, but I'm my own person now. Your fathers are still your fathers."

"But you remember everything?" Goten persists, moving closer. "Like when Dad came back for the tournament and met me for the first time?"

A memory surfaces immediately - Goku's shock and delight upon seeing his younger son for the first time at the World Martial Arts Tournament.

Goku had died during the Cell Games, before Goten was born, and remained in the afterlife for seven years.

Their first meeting had been both touching and awkward, with Goten initially hiding behind Chi-Chi's leg before warming up to his father.

"Of course I do," I confirm with a confident nod. "I remember that day clear as crystal.

You were shy at first, hiding behind your mother's leg, but then you ran to him and he swung you around in the air. Pretty heartwarming stuff, if I do say so myself."

"You do remember!" Goten exclaims, his expression brightening. "So you're kinda like our dad too, right?"

The question hangs in the air, weighted with implications I'm not entirely prepared to address. Fortunately, Bulma intervenes.

"Boys, give Vegito some space," she says, approaching with drinks in hand. "He's still getting used to all this too."

"But Mom," Trunks protests, "it's so cool! He's like... both our dads in one super-tall person!"

"Yeah!" Goten agrees enthusiastically. "And he's super strong too! Dad said he couldn't even touch him when they were training!"

This revelation causes a stir among the gathered warriors. Yamcha whistles low. "Seriously? Not even as Super Saiyan 3?"

Goku, emerging from the house with a plate piled high with food, grins sheepishly. "It's true. Vegito here is in a whole different league. Even in his base form, he makes Super Saiyan 3 look like child's play."

I straighten up, folding my arms across my chest in a gesture that feels natural. "What can I say? When you combine the best fighter in the universe with the second-best, you get something pretty spectacular." I pause, then add with a playful smirk,

"I'll let you all decide which was which."

Vegeta, who's been quietly observing from the sidelines, scoffs audibly at this remark, while Goku just laughs.

"There it is," Piccolo observes dryly. "The fusion of Goku's battle enthusiasm and Vegeta's ego. Truly the best of both worlds."

"Power isn't everything though," I add, my tone shifting to something more thoughtful.

"Having their combined experience and wisdom gives me a unique perspective. I see things neither of them could see alone."

The gathering gradually relaxes as food is served and conversations flow. I find myself moving between groups, answering questions and observing interactions.

The Z Fighters are curious about my abilities, while their families seem more interested in understanding my unique existence.

Throughout it all, Goten and Trunks shadow me persistently, peppering me with questions that range from the profound to the absurd.

"Can you do the Kamehameha AND the Galick Gun?" Trunks asks.

"Kid, I can do them both at the same time if I wanted to," I reply with a confident grin. "I might even have a few new tricks up my sleeve that neither of your fathers could pull off."

"Do you like food as much as my dad?" Goten wonders.

"I appreciate good food," I answer, patting my stomach. "But I've got a bit more restraint than Kakarot. Don't worry though - I can still put away enough to impress even your mother."

"If you have both their memories, does that mean you remember being enemies when they first met?"

This last question, from Trunks, carries more weight than the boy likely realizes.

I do indeed remember that first fateful encounter on Earth - both from Vegeta's perspective of arrogant conquest and Goku's desperate defense of his home planet.

"Yes," I answer, my playful tone softening. "I remember their first meeting, and how they grew from enemies to rivals to allies.

It's like having two different movies of the same event playing in my head simultaneously. Pretty wild, isn't it?"

"That's weird," Goten says, scrunching his face in concentration. "So you remember being mad at yourself?"

The childish simplification draws a chuckle from those nearby. "Something like that," I admit.

"But it gives me a unique perspective. I understand both sides of every argument they ever had. Makes me pretty wise, if I do say so myself."

As the afternoon progresses, I find myself drawn into a game of tag with the boys - a surreal experience given my power level and size.

I deliberately move at a pace they can track, allowing them occasional victories that send them into peals of delighted laughter.

"No fair using Instant Transmission!" Trunks protests when I momentarily disappear to avoid his lunge.

"Yeah!" Goten agrees. "That's cheating!"

I reappear behind them, arms crossed and floating a few inches off the ground. "Cheating? Or strategic advantage?

Besides, you two have the advantage of being small targets. I'm working with a much larger hitbox here, you know."

"What's a hitbox?" Goten asks, confused.

I blink, realizing I've let a term from my original life slip through. "Just a fancy way of saying I'm bigger and easier to tag.

Now, let's see if you can catch me without any special techniques. Just pure speed!"

The simple joy of playing with children provides an unexpected respite from the complexity of my situation.

For a brief time, I'm not contemplating my new existence in this world, the loss of my previous life or planning for future cosmic threats - I'm simply enjoying the moment.

Eventually, the boys tire of tag and insist on showing me their fusion dance. Their performance is endearingly imprecise - they're not being as serious, so their technique needs some work before its natural.

"Not bad, not bad," I say, applauding their effort. "Your timing's a bit off, but the potential is definitely there. With practice, Gotenks could become quite formidable." I tap my chin thoughtfully.

"Though between us, the Potara method is clearly superior. No dance required, just pop on some earrings and boom - instant ultimate warrior."

"Not as strong as you though, right?" Trunks asks.

"Few beings in the universe are," I acknowledge with a confident nod. "But strength comes in many forms.

And you two have something special going for you - you're growing stronger every day. Who knows? Maybe someday you'll give even me a run for my money."

Both boys beam at this, clearly taking it as a challenge.

As evening approaches, I find myself seated on the grass a short distance from the house, watching the sunset paint the sky in vivid hues.

The sounds of continued celebration drift from the house, but I welcome the momentary solitude.

"Mind if I join you?"

I turn to find Gohan standing nearby, two cups of tea in hand. He offers one to me, which I accept with a nod of thanks.

"This must be strange for you," he observes as he settles beside me. "Having memories of being my father, but not actually being him."

"Strange doesn't begin to cover it, kid," I reply, taking a sip of the tea. "I remember teaching you to ride a bicycle, training you to face Cell - yet I wasn't truly there for any of it.

I almost have the emotional attachment without the actual relationship. It's like having déjà vu for events I never experienced firsthand."

Gohan nods thoughtfully. "And I imagine it's the same with Trunks and Vegeta's memories."

"Precisely. I possess the emotional context of those relationships without the actual connection." I pause, considering how to articulate the experience.

"It's like reading an intensely detailed autobiography written in the first person - I know the story intimately, knowing how it is to have felt the emotions vividly, but it isn't my story."

"Yet Goten and Trunks seem to have decided you're a third father figure," Gohan observes with a slight smile.

I glance toward the house, where the boys can be seen through the window, animatedly recounting some adventure to the adults.

"Kids are adaptable. They see the situation in simpler terms. To them, I have their fathers' memories and some of their mannerisms, so I must be connected to them somehow." I shrug.

"Can't say I mind. They're good kids."

"They're not entirely wrong though, are they?" Gohan suggests. "You may not be Goku or Vegeta, but you carry parts of them with you."

The observation is astute, and I find myself appreciating Gohan's thoughtful perspective - a quality I remember from both Goku's and my own memories of him.

"True enough," I acknowledge. "Though I'm still figuring out which parts are theirs, which parts are uniquely mine, and which parts come from... elsewhere." I catch myself before revealing too much.

"I'm more than just the sum of their parts. I'm something new entirely."

"That's not so different from what we all do," Gohan muses. "Figuring out who we are apart from our parents and their expectations."

Our conversation is interrupted by the approach of Goten and Trunks, who have apparently grown bored with the adult conversations inside.

"Vegito!" Goten calls. "Can you show us how to do a Kamehameha? A really big one?"

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Gohan interjects gently. "Vegito's energy attacks might be a bit too powerful for a demonstration near the house."

"Aww," both boys groan in unison.

"Your brother's right," I tell them with a wink. "My Kamehameha might accidentally take out a mountain range or two.

Not exactly the kind of housewarming gift your mother would appreciate."

"Perhaps another time, in a more suitable location," I offer as a compromise. "For now, why don't you tell me about your training?

I understand you've both made remarkable progress for your age."

This redirection works perfectly, launching the boys into enthusiastic descriptions of their achievements and techniques.

I listen attentively, offering occasional advice drawn from my combined knowledge of combat.

"Remember," I tell them, "power is important, but control and technique are what separate a true warrior from a mere fighter. Your fathers both learned that lesson the hard way."

As night falls, the gathering begins to disperse. Families depart with warm farewells, and I find myself preparing to return to Capsule Corporation, where Bulma has offered me continued accommodation until I determine my next steps.

"You'll come visit again, right?" Goten asks, his expression hopeful.

"Of course," I assure him, ruffling his hair in a gesture that feels natural. "Perhaps next time we can have that training session you requested.

I might even teach you a technique or two that neither of your fathers knows."

His face lights up at the prospect. "Awesome! Did you hear that, Trunks? Vegito's gonna train with us!"

"About time we had a real challenge," Trunks declares with his father's confidence.

"A real challenge, huh?" I reply with a raised eyebrow. "Be careful what you wish for, kid. You might just get it."

As I prepare to depart, Chi-Chi approaches, her manner more relaxed than earlier. "Thank you for being so patient with the boys," she says.

"They've been talking about nothing but meeting you properly since... well, since everything happened."

"They're remarkable children," I reply sincerely. "You should be proud. Goten has Goku's spirit and your determination - a powerful combination."

A complicated expression crosses her face - pride mingled with something more difficult to define. "It's strange," she admits quietly.

"Seeing you with them. Hearing echoes of Goku in your voice, but knowing you're not him."

"I understand," I say, though in truth, I can only imagine how disorienting this must be for her. "I hope my presence doesn't cause you discomfort."

She shakes her head. "No, it's not that. It's just... an adjustment. For all of us." She offers a small smile.

"But the boys adore you already, so I suppose you'll be part of our extended family whether we planned for it or not."

The concept of "family" resonates strangely within me. I have memories of belonging to two different families, yet I myself have no true family connections with them - and till I find a way to my own world, have lost my own family.

"I'm honored," I reply simply. "And for what it's worth, I'll do my best to be a positive influence. They've got enough mischief-makers in their lives already."

As I fly back toward West City, the night air cool against my face, I reflect on the day's interactions.

The Z Fighters and their families have accepted my existence with remarkable adaptability - particularly the children, who seem to view me as an exciting addition rather than a complicated philosophical conundrum.

Perhaps there is wisdom in their approach. Rather than dwelling on the metaphysical implications of my new form of existence, I could focus on establishing connections and finding purpose in this world.

The knowledge I possess of future threats provides direction, but day-to-day living requires more immediate considerations.

Where will I live? What will I do when not training, learning or preparing for cosmic threats? How will I integrate into a society that operates on assumptions of normal human experience?

"One thing's for sure," I mutter to myself as I soar through the night sky, "This life will certainly not be boring."

These questions occupy my thoughts as Capsule Corporation comes into view below.

For all my power and knowledge, I am in many ways starting from the beginning - learning to exist as Vegito rather than as echoes of Goku and Vegeta.

As I descend toward the compound, I notice Bulma on one of the balconies, apparently waiting for my return. She waves as I approach, and I land lightly beside her.

"How was the party?" she asks, offering me a cup of what smells like coffee.

"Enlightening," I reply, accepting the drink. "The children, especially, have a unique perspective on my situation.

No philosophical hand-wringing, just 'cool, you're like both our dads combined!' Kids have a way of cutting through the complexity."

Bulma chuckles. "Let me guess - Goten and Trunks have decided you're their bonus dad?"

"Something like that," I acknowledge with a slight smirk. "They've already got me committed to special training sessions. Those two don't waste any time."

"Kids adapt quickly," she observes. "The rest of us are still working through the philosophical implications."

"Including you?" I ask, curious about her scientific perspective on my existence.

She considers this for a moment. "I'm fascinated by the metaphysical aspects, of course. You're essentially a new form of consciousness - neither purely Goku nor Vegeta, but something entirely unique."

"And yet composed of their memories and abilities," I add. "Plus my own special flair, of course."

"Exactly. It's unprecedented." She turns to face me directly. "Which brings me to something I've been wanting to discuss with you.

Have you thought about what comes next? Where you'll live, what you'll do?"

"I've been considering those questions," I admit. "Though I haven't reached any firm conclusions.

Being the strongest being in the universe opens a lot of doors, but it doesn't exactly come with an instruction manual."

Bulma nods. "Well, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need.

We have plenty of space, and it would give me an opportunity to continue studying your unique physiology - with your permission, of course."

"Thank you," I reply, appreciating both the offer and her respect for my autonomy. "I may take you up on that while I determine my path forward.

Just don't expect me to be your lab rat. I draw the line at electrodes."

She laughs. "Fair enough. And if you're looking for purpose beyond waiting for the next universal threat, I might have some suggestions."

"Oh?" I prompt, intrigued. "I'm all ears."

"Your power level makes you uniquely qualified to explore regions of space too dangerous for others," she explains.

"There are cosmic phenomena, ancient artifacts, and distant civilizations that could advance our scientific understanding dramatically if we could study them safely. God knows Vegeta and Goku can't help me with that."

The proposal is interesting - utilizing my abilities for exploration and discovery rather than just combat.

It would provide structure and purpose while allowing me to establish an identity separate from my component parts.

"Space exploration, huh?" I muse, looking up at the stars. "Not a bad idea. I could go places no one else could survive, see things no one else could see. Might be fun to be something other than just a warrior for a change."

"Just think about it," Bulma says. "No pressure."

"I'll consider it," I tell her. "It's an intriguing possibility. And let's face it - I'd look great in a space suit."

As we stand in comfortable silence, gazing at the star-filled sky, I find myself feeling something unexpected - a sense of potential.

Beyond the complexities of my origins and the weight of my foreknowledge lies the simple truth that I am here, now, with choices to make and a life to build.

"You know what?" I say finally. "I think I'm going to enjoy being me."

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(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all liked the chapter!

Do tell me how you found it.

Goten and Trunks' dynamic with Vegito will be a lot of fun to write about.

So yeah, I hope to see you all later,

Bye!)