Morning came slowly over Capsule Corp — soft light spilling through the wide glass panels, painting gold across the courtyard.
Bulma was already awake, her hair tied back, boots scuffing against the tiled floor as she adjusted the settings on a small floating drone. Mai stood beside her, arms folded, watching the display blink with faint pink light.
"Ready?" Bulma muttered.
Mai smirked. "You're the one who said you didn't need sleep."
A lazy voice drifted from the shade nearby. "Sleep is for the lazy."
They turned.
Buu stood under the veranda, stretching like someone who hadn't a care in the world, the sunlight glinting faintly off his dark eyes. The faint ripple of energy around him distorted the air — not menacing, just alive.
Bulma groaned. "You really enjoy making dramatic entrances, don't you?"
"Habit," he said. "Now… show me what you remember."
Mai cracked her knuckles. "From last night?"
He smiled faintly. "From what you felt. Not what you overthink."
They spread out into the courtyard.
The faint hum of Capsule Corp's defense systems activated around them, creating a safe training perimeter. Buu raised his hand, the air shimmering with pink and violet hues.
"The first step," he said, "is to stop fighting it. The Majin energy isn't something you control — it's something you listen to."
Bulma frowned, focusing. "Listen? It doesn't exactly talk."
"It does," Buu said. "Just not in words."
Mai exhaled, eyes narrowing as faint tendrils of magenta energy coiled around her arms. "Feels... heavy. Like it's pushing back."
"That's because you're resisting," he said, stepping closer, voice low. "Don't suppress it. Shape it."
He snapped his fingers once — and a pulse of pink energy rippled outward, stirring the dust at their feet.
Bulma followed the motion, letting her own energy respond — a shimmering aura, unstable but vibrant, forming around her hands.
She gasped as a small explosion of light burst out, singeing the ground.
Buu chuckled softly. "Better. Next time, aim away from your shoes."
"Don't test me," Bulma said, grinning despite herself. "I'm learning."
Mai's control was better — slower, more deliberate. Her aura condensed into a small orb floating above her palm. "It's like molding clay."
"Exactly," Buu said approvingly. "The stronger your intent, the sharper the form."
He watched them a moment longer — the way their energy pulsed in sync, two different rhythms trying to harmonize. Then he smiled, satisfied.
"You two keep practicing," he said, stretching again. "I have… other business to attend to."
Bulma didn't even look up. "By 'business' you mean—"
But he was already walking off, whistling softly, his energy fading into the hum of the building.
Mrs. Brief was in the veranda, watering her flowers with the same sunny calm she always carried. Her smile brightened when she saw him.
"Oh, good morning, dear! Did the girls tire you out already?"
Buu leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms with that familiar half-smile. "They're full of surprises. But I thought I'd take a break before they start trying to vaporize me."
She laughed — that soft, musical kind of laugh that filled the air. "You're so funny, dear. Would you like some tea?"
"Only if you join me" he said, eyes glinting.
"Oh my, such a gentleman." She poured, the faint scent of jasmine mixing with the morning breeze.
Buu sat across from her, elbows on the table, studying her with that slow, unreadable gaze. "You know, you have a calming presence. Not many people do."
"Is that so?" she said, smiling warmly. "I suppose that's my job — keeping this house from falling apart."
"Then you must be very strong," he said softly. "Stronger than most realize."
She laughed again, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"
"Only only for a few people."
From the courtyard, a sudden flash of pink energy made the air tremble — followed by Bulma's voice shouting, "THAT WASN'T SUPPOSED TO EXPLODE!"
Mrs. Brief sighed fondly. "My daughter never changes."
Buu chuckled. "Maybe she takes from you."
He sipped his tea slowly, eyes half-lidded, a hint of satisfaction curling at the edge of his smile.Everything — the training, the rift, even this — was moving as he wanted. Piece by piece.