The morning sun returned to Capsule Corp like nothing had happened — the sky a perfect blue, the air clean.
But the ground still told the truth: deep scars in the soil, shattered tiles, and a faint energy hum that refused to fade.
Bulma stood at the edge of what had once been her garden, watching six figures move across the field in perfect synchronization.
Buu in front, barefoot and calm. Behind him, Bardock's team.
Each movement was brutal precision: a strike, a block, a leap that cracked the air.It was both terrifying and… mesmerizing.
Bulma found herself leaning against the railing, studying every motion.
"They really are something else, huh?" came Mai's voice behind her.
Bulma nodded slightly. "They shouldn't even exist. Saiyan physiology… it's unlike anything I've seen. Their recovery rate alone breaks every bio-logical limit."
Mai crossed her arms, watching Fasha spin midair, her aura flaring like molten fire. "And yet, here they are," she said quietly. "training like us."
Bulma shot her a look. "You make that sound like a bad thing."
Mai's lips twitched. "Maybe it is. Maybe it's not. Depends on how you see it."
Before Bulma could answer, a voice called from the field.
"Hey, blue hair!"
Fasha stood there, hands on her hips, grinning wide. Sweat glistened on her neck, and the pink glow of her Majin mark caught the light. "You're Buu's human, right? Or… what exactly are you?"
Bulma blinked, thrown off. "Excuse me?"
The Saiyan laughed, not unkindly. "I'm serious! You look at us like we robbed you of some candy. So what's your deal? Partner? Pet? Rival?"
Mai, standing beside Bulma, nearly choked. "You've got nerve asking that."
Fasha smirked. "Just curiosity. Don't take it personally."
Bulma straightened, her pride kicking in. "I'm his lover… his researcher. And his equal."
That earned a whistle from Bardock, who had been listening without pretending not to. "Equal, huh? So are you strong?"
Buu, still in the center, opened one eye and smiled faintly. "She's telling the truth."
Bulma felt her cheeks heat. "You don't have to—"
"I'm not defending you," Buu interrupted, rising to his feet with impossible grace. "I'm confirming facts. She's as stubborn as I am."
The Saiyans laughed, the sound rough but genuine. Even Bardock cracked a grin before turning serious again. "Alright, Buu. What's next?"
Buu motioned toward the far side of the courtyard. "Pair drills. You'll work with Mai and Bulma. They need to learn how to handle Saiyan speed."
Bulma frowned. "Wait, what—"
But Bardock didn't wait for questions. He vanished. One blink later, he was standing behind her, and before she could turn, his hand chopped through the air — stopping inches from her neck. She gasped, frozen."Rule one," Bardock said, calm but sharp. "Never talk while your opponent moves."
Bulma's heart raced. "You didn't even— you just disappeared!"
He smirked. "No. You blinked."
From the side, Mai's voice came dry. "Welcome to Saiyan training."
The rest of the morning was chaos.
Bulma learned fast — or tried to. Every move she made, Bardock countered with ease. Fasha sparred with Mai, their energy flaring dangerously close to the broken walls. Buu oversaw it all, his gaze steady, unreadable.
Every now and then, he'd correct Bulma's stance with a word or a gesture — small touches that sent sparks down her spine. When she finally managed to land a hit (barely grazing Bardock's arm), he actually chuckled. "Not bad, human."
"Bulma," she corrected, panting. "Not just a human."
He gave her a curious look. "Only if you manage to impress me, human." He said the word like it was a challenge and it was.
When the session finally broke, the group gathered in the shade. Sweat, laughter, and the faint tension of new trust filled the air.
Fasha dropped to the grass beside Mai, wiping her forehead. "You fight like a ghost," she said. "Quiet, but you hit harder than I expected."
Mai shot her a glance. "I take that as a compliment."
"It is," Fasha said, grinning — then leaned closer. "So tell me… what are you to him?"
Mai froze. "Excuse me?"
Fasha smirked, eyes gleaming with curiosity. "You and the blue one — both look at him like he's the center of your gravity. So you are his lover too?"
Mai's gaze hardened, but her voice stayed level. "It's not what you think."
"Oh, so it is something," Fasha teased. "Interesting."
Bulma, from where she was sitting a few feet away, caught the exchange and looked over. "You Saiyans really don't have filters, do you?"
Fasha laughed, sprawling back on the grass. "When you spend your life in war, you learn to ask directly. We don't have time for half-truths."
That shut Bulma up for a moment. She understood that — more than she cared to admit.
Across the courtyard, Buu stood with Bardock, the two warriors silently assessing each other. Bardock's aura flickered once, steady and strong. "They've got heart," he said. "Even the soft ones."
Buu nodded.
"And you?" Bardock asked quietly. "What drives you?"
Buu's answer came slow, almost too quiet for anyone else to hear. "Just strength and family."
Bardock didn't press further. He just gave a small, knowing nod. "Then let's make sure we're ready when the next storm hits."
From the balcony, Panchy watched them all — her daughter sparring with Saiyans, her home turned into a training ground, and that strange pink light binding them together. She smiled faintly. "Everything really did change when he showed up," she whispered to herself.
Down below, Buu looked up briefly — and his lips curved in quiet agreement.