The courtyard shimmered under the midday sun.
Bulma and Mai were drenched in sweat, energy waves crackling around them like twin storms. Every motion left traces of violet light suspended in the air — uncontrolled, beautiful, dangerous.
"Again!" Bulma shouted.
Mai raised her hand, focusing the pink aura between her palms. The air bent — compressed — and then burst forward in a spiraling wave that disintegrated a training drone in an instant.
Bulma's monitor blinked. "Output's increasing exponentially…"
"Feels easier," Mai said between breaths. "Almost… natural."
"That's what scares me," Bulma muttered, adjusting the readings. "The Majin energy is syncing with our cells. The more we use it, the less human we become."
Mai glanced at her. "And you're still running tests?"
Bulma grinned faintly. "Of course. I need to understand what we're turning into before he—"
She stopped mid-sentence. "Speaking of him… where is Buu?"
Under the veranda, the answer was sitting just a few meters away — smiling lazily.
Mrs. Brief had changed into a light sundress, her soft blonde hair brushing her shoulders as she poured two more cups of tea. The garden shimmered around them — Capsule Corp's private oasis.
Buu leaned back on the bench, his expression a mix of amusement and interest. "You know," he said softly, "your tea could make anyone forget their problems."
"Oh, stop," she laughed, brushing her hair back. "You flatter too easily."
"You have this… serenity. It's dangerous." he replied
"Dangerous?" she echoed, arching an eyebrow. "You make it sound like a crime."
"Maybe it is," he said, voice low, teasing. "Being this distracting."
She giggled, eyes bright. "And what are you distracting yourself from, young man?"
Buu smirked. "That depends. Are you offering me a better distraction?"
Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly, and for a moment, silence hung between them — not awkward, but charged. The kind of silence that holds breath, promise, temptation.
He leaned closer.
She didn't move away.
Their voices softened to whispers.
"You really do have a way with words," she murmured.
"And you," Buu replied, eyes narrowing slightly, "have a way of making me forget I'm supposed to be dangerous."
The air shifted — his hand brushed hers lightly over the table, fingers grazing skin.
She looked up, caught off guard by how intense his gaze had become. For a heartbeat, everything else faded — the hum of Capsule Corp, the sound of training in the distance — just the quiet between them.
And then —
A shockwave rippled through the air.
The sky flickered crimson for half a second, like glass fracturing in sunlight.
Both of them turned toward the garden fence as the distortion widened — a glowing crack in reality itself.
Mrs. Brief gasped. "What in the world—?"
The distortion stabilized into a human shape. Armored boots hit the ground with a metallic thud. A man in a sleek black uniform stepped through, his visor scanning the surroundings with mechanical precision.
"Target located," he said flatly, voice echoing. "Temporal anomaly detected. Majin signature confirmed."
Buu's smile vanished.
Mrs. Brief stood, startled, but Buu simply rose to his feet, his tone suddenly ice-cold.
"Of all times, you picked the wrong moment."
The patroller's scanner beeped again. "Level of contamination—extreme. Subject: Buu. Temporal offense—reconstruction of timeline."
Bulma's voice echoed from the courtyard, distant but rising "Buu! What's happening?!"
He didn't answer.
His aura expanded in a ripple of pink light, the calm replaced by something primal — elegant, but lethal.
Mrs. Brief stepped back, her breath caught. "Wait—what are you—?"
Buu turned his head slightly toward her, his smile returning, soft but edged.
"Forgive me," he murmured. "Our tea will have to wait."
The ground cracked beneath his feet as he disappeared in a blur of light.
Author here: yes I know.