Talks

After their late-night conversation in the backyard, Dr. Briefs guided Mori through the halls of Capsule Corp. The boy followed quietly, his steps slow, eyes taking in the pristine walls and soft lighting with quiet awe. 

Dr. Briefs stopped at a door near his study and gestured inside. "Here we are. Nothing fancy, but you've got a bed, a window, and plenty of quiet." 

Mori stepped in. The room was modest—light blue walls, a soft bed beneath a tall window, and a floating orb-light bobbing near the ceiling. It was simple, but peaceful in a way the sterile labs and cold forests never were. 

He turned to the doctor. "Thank you… for everything." 

Dr. Briefs smiled warmly. "Sleep well, Mori." 

As the door closed, Mori climbed into bed. The sheets were soft. The air was gentle. There were no humming machines, no whispers of dead scientists, and no scent of scorched metal. 

And for the first time in what felt like years, Mori dreamt without fear. 

No Kid Buu dragging him through space. 

No screaming, no fires, no nightmares. 

Just warmth. 

The next morning came gently. Light filtered through the curtains, casting golden shapes across the floor. Mori blinked awake, blinking slowly at the quiet peace of his new room. 

KNOCK KNOCK 

"Mori?" Dr. Briefs' muffled voice called from outside. "Come on, kiddo. There's someone I want you to meet before school starts." 

Mori climbed out of bed, stretching the sleep from his limbs. "Okay," he called back, padding barefoot toward the door. 

They walked down the hallway side by side, past photos and soft-lit family portraits. Mori glanced at the pictures curiously—there was Dr. Briefs in a lab coat, a kind-looking woman smiling beside him, and a younger girl with vibrant blue hair appearing in more and more frames as they walked. 

In the kitchen, the scent of warm food welcomed them. 

At the table, tinkering with a small circular device that sparked occasionally, sat a blue-haired girl, head down and lips pursed in concentration. The same one from the pictures. 

"Bulma," Dr. Briefs said with a chuckle, "this is Mori. He'll be staying with us for a little while." 

"Hey, Dad," she said without looking up, still adjusting something on the device with a tiny tool. 

Dr. Briefs raised a brow. "Bulma, I said—this is Mori. At least say hello properly." 

She finally glanced up, blinking once at the boy standing beside her father. "Oh, hey," she said casually. "You're the weird kid from last night?" 

Mori blinked. "...I guess?" 

She smiled slightly. "I mean, no offense. My dad doesn't usually bring random people into the house." 

Mori shrugged, his blue-white eyes calm. "I've been called worse." 

Bulma tilted her head, still eyeing him. "How old are you?" 

"Ten." 

"Huh," she said, sitting back. "I know someone around that age. A little wild, but strong. His name's Goku." 

Mori perked up slightly. "Goku? What's he like?" 

"Kind of weird. Really strong. Oh—and he's got this fuzzy brown tail," she added, as if that were normal. 

Mori blinked, surprised. "A tail? Brown and fuzzy?" 

"Yeah. Why?" Bulma asked. 

"That sounds like a Saiyan," Mori said under his breath. "But the name doesn't follow the Saiyan naming scheme…" 

Bulma blinked. "What's a Saiyan?" 

Mori looked at her, his expression thoughtful. "They're a race that exists mostly for fighting. They live for combat, grow stronger after recovering from injuries, and most of them are born with tails." 

Bulma opened her mouth to ask another question—eyes wide with curiosity—but her wristwatch beeped loudly. 

"Ugh!" she groaned, grabbing her bag. "That's my school alarm! Gotta go or I'll be late again!" 

She rushed out the door, sparing a final glance at Mori. "We'll talk more later! Don't go anywhere, alien boy!" 

She was gone a moment later, leaving behind a faint ozone scent from the half-finished device. 

Dr. Briefs laughed. "She's got your curiosity, but none of your patience." 

Mori blinked. "I think… I like her." 

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. Come with me—I want to see something." 

He led Mori to his lab. Clean, bright, filled with machinery and energy monitors, it was a playground for any scientist. Dr. Briefs waved Mori over to a tall, adjustable scanner table. 

"I've been thinking about those seals you mentioned last night. You said you made them right before you landed on Earth?" 

Mori nodded and took off his shirt. 

As the fabric fell, the seals revealed themselves—five total, pulsing faintly in harmony. 

On Mori's right hand, a purple triangular seal sat at the knuckles, two ram-like horns curling beneath it. A glowing line stretched down to the base of his palm. 

On his left hand, a blue circular seal shimmered gently—five concentric rings pulsing in quiet rhythm. 

Over his left chest, a black square seal rested, sharp and angular, with harsh lines spreading from each corner. 

His right chest bore a green diamond seal, filled with intricate triangles that expanded and contracted like living lungs. 

And on his stomach, the final and largest seal—a swirling pink combination of every shape: triangle, circle, square, diamond, and more. It spun slowly, glowing faintly with pressure and power. 

"All of them," Mori said, "appeared right before I crashed here. I felt my energy rising too fast. I didn't want to lose control again. So I sealed it all away." 

"Instinct alone did this?" Dr. Briefs murmured in awe. "That's some kind of survival mechanism…" 

He gently reached out and touched the purple triangle on Mori's right hand. It pulsed warmly under his fingertip. 

"Feels… feral. Like pure will." 

He moved to the blue circle on Mori's left. It pulsed calmly. "Balanced. Like a deep breath." 

Next was the black square over Mori's left chest. At his touch, it sparked faintly, cold and unforgiving. 

"Restrictive. Brutal. I don't like that one." 

He touched the green diamond, and it flared gently. "This one feels… natural. Almost biological." 

Finally, he moved to the pink seal on Mori's stomach. 

But the moment his fingers neared it, a sudden wave of pressure pulsed outward—not violent, but firm. A silent warning. 

"Whoa…" Dr. Briefs stepped back, eyebrows raised. "That one doesn't want to be touched." 

"It never has," Mori said softly. "That one's… different. I think it's sealing something even I don't understand." 

Dr. Briefs folded his arms, gaze thoughtful. "You said your ki reacts to your emotions?" 

"Yes," Mori said. "When I'm angry, sad, scared… even happy. My energy responds. But the seals help. They hold it in." 

Dr. Briefs looked back at him, clearly impressed. "You're not just some experiment. You're a walking miracle." 

"I don't know about that," Mori replied, his voice quiet. "I just don't want to hurt anyone anymore." 

Dr. Briefs smiled warmly. "Then you're already leagues ahead of most beings I know. Come on, let's get some food in you before your stomach starts glowing too." 

The warm glow of the afternoon sun stretched across the Capsule Corporation's backyard as a soft breeze rustled the grass. Inside the lab, a symphony of humming machines and blinking lights filled the space, broken only by the steady clinking of metal tools against a disassembled circuit board. Dr. Briefs adjusted his glasses as he watched Mori examine a small containment capsule with keen interest. 

"Fascinating, isn't it?" the old man said, gently smiling as he noticed the boy's eyes flicker with curiosity. "Compact technology like this has made life on Earth a whole lot simpler." 

Mori nodded slowly. "You make machines do things that feel like magic." 

Dr. Briefs chuckled. "Well, I wouldn't call it magic. Just a bit of engineering and time." 

The lab door whooshed open suddenly. 

"Dad! I'm back!" came Bulma's voice, bright and energetic. 

Mori turned his head as the blue-haired girl strolled in, tossing her school bag onto a nearby bench. Her eyes immediately landed on the unfamiliar figure beside her father. "Oh, you're still here," she said, walking up and folding her arms with an inquisitive look. "So, what are you two nerds up to?" 

Dr. Briefs looked up from his work. "We were just going over the basics of capsule tech. Mori here's quite the attentive listener." 

Bulma's gaze narrowed with playful suspicion. "Is that so?" 

She marched over and plopped herself on a swivel chair nearby, kicking off the ground slightly to spin in a lazy circle. "So, you're from space, right? What's it like out there? Are there aliens with ten eyes? Do they ride comets into battle or something? And how come you don't have an antenna or a tail?" 

Mori blinked, overwhelmed by the flurry of questions. 

"You ask a lot," he said plainly. 

Bulma stopped her spin, pouting slightly. "Hey, I'm curious! You're probably the first actual alien I've had a full conversation with! Goku doesn't count—he's just weird." 

Dr. Briefs let out a quiet chuckle in the background, watching them both with amusement. 

Mori tilted his head. "You mentioned Goku before… is he really that odd?" 

Bulma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Absolutely! He lives out in the mountains with no TV, eats everything in sight, and once he transformed into this giant ape thing and wrecked everything during the full moon!" 

Mori's interest was clearly piqued, but he didn't press further. Instead, he simply gave a faint nod, his mind turning over the possibilities. A child turning into a massive creature under the moon? That was... familiar, yet still strange. 

"But anyway," Bulma continued, hopping off the chair. "Let's talk about you now, mystery boy. You've got all those glowy things on you—what's the deal with those?" 

She pointed at his arms and chest, particularly the faint glow that peeked out from under his shirt. 

Mori looked down, then back at her. "They're seals. I made them... right before I got here." 

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "You made them?" 

Mori hesitated for a second, then pulled his shirt up slightly to reveal the different seals. 

Bulma gasped, eyes wide with wonder. "Whoa… they do look like fancy tattoos! But wait… they move! That's not ink, is it?" 

"Not ink," Mori said calmly. "They keep my energy from reacting too strongly to how I feel. When I get too emotional, bad things happen." 

Bulma stepped closer, inspecting the designs with intense interest. "So, each one does something different?" 

Mori nodded. "Probably. I don't fully understand all of them yet. I just… knew I needed them. They appeared all at once." 

Dr. Briefs adjusted his glasses again. "Fascinating. It's as if your body instinctively developed a fail-safe—a self-regulating system." 

Bulma poked at the glowing green diamond on his right chest. "This one looks like it's breathing. That's so creepy-cool." 

Mori looked down at the seal she touched. "That one feels... calm. Steady." 

Dr. Briefs moved closer with a small scanner in hand. "You mentioned they regulate your ki. How do you feel right now?" 

Mori glanced up. "Safe." 

Dr. Briefs smiled softly. "Then they're working." 

Bulma leaned on the table next to him, resting her cheek on her palm. "So, do you have any cool powers? Can you shoot lasers out of your eyes or teleport or something?" 

"I don't know," Mori said honestly. "My energy... it's not normal. It changes depending on how I feel. Sometimes, it's warm and light. Other times, it's... wild. Violent." 

Bulma's smile softened a bit, realizing he wasn't just being mysterious—he was being honest. "Sounds kinda lonely." 

Mori looked at her, then at Dr. Briefs, then back at her again. 

"It was," he admitted quietly. "But... this place feels different." 

Bulma leaned back with a grin. "Well, I guess that's good. I mean, Capsule Corp is the best place on Earth, after all." 

Dr. Briefs chuckled behind them. "Humble as ever, my dear." 

"Hey, I'm just stating facts!" 

Mori gave a small, almost amused exhale through his nose. 

Bulma looked at him, arms folded again. "You're weird, but I like weird. You and Goku might get along." 

Mori tilted his head. "I'd like to meet him." 

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? You sure you can handle his energy?" 

"I'm sure," Mori said confidently. 

She grinned. "Well then… maybe." 

The lab fell into a warm silence, filled only by the soft humming of machines and the occasional sound of Dr. Briefs tinkering with something on the side. For the first time in what felt like forever, Mori wasn't watching his back or trying to understand if he belonged—he was just there. Existing. Accepted. 

And that was enough for now.