A meager sensation of satisfaction fills the space in his bones and replaces the air in his lungs. Just from the muscle in his tightening fist he realizes he’s surpassed who he was a month ago, who’s surpassed who he was a month before, who’s surpassed who he was before then. But it’s not the be-all end-all of the mountain. It’s the first step. And it will always be the first step, until there are no more steps to climb and no more rungs on the ladder. It will always be square one. It will never be good enough.
It can’t be good enough. Not until he can swat planets with the back of his hand will he rest. Not until every bone in his body creaks and shatters will he relent. Not until he can face Kakarot once more and smirk before their clash rips the continent apart. And then, when he stands triumphant over the body of that traitor, then he can say it’s good enough.
But for now? For now it will do to sate the hunger. He refuses to be the same Raditz he use to know.