New addition

The soft hum of birdsong filtered through the open windows of Capsule Corporation as the golden glow of morning bathed the city in warmth. Inside the spacious kitchen, the smell of breakfast was already in the air—eggs sizzling, bacon crisping, and waffles browning in a specialized Capsule Corp iron. 

Mori stood by the marble counter, watching intently as Mrs. Briefs moved with a kind of cheerful grace. She hummed a light tune, twirling around in her apron like a performer on stage. In her hands, a bowl of flour and a whisk moved in harmony, and Mori's curious eyes followed every step like it was a sacred ritual. 

"So... what does that do?" he asked, pointing to the bowl she'd just finished mixing. 

"Oh, this? This is waffle batter, dear," she said brightly. "Once I pour it into that iron over there and close the lid, it cooks into a golden, fluffy waffle! You'll see!" 

Mori tilted his head, intrigued. "You're using… heat, right? But not from fire?" 

Mrs. Briefs giggled. "Exactly! It's all electric. And that stove is powered by a mini capsule battery." 

Mori nodded slowly, soaking up every detail. The more he learned about Earth—or "Whistler," as he still sometimes called it—the more fascinated he became. Compared to the sterile cold of the lab where he was raised or the barren worlds he'd briefly landed on, this place felt vibrant and alive. 

She handed him a bowl of eggs. "Now, how about you try cracking a few of these?" 

"Crack them?" he repeated, a bit confused. 

She smiled patiently. "Like this," she demonstrated, tapping the egg on the rim of the bowl and splitting it open with practiced ease. "Then you just let the inside fall into the bowl, no shell allowed!" 

Mori watched, nodded, and reached for one. With quiet focus, he cracked it with precision and dropped the contents into the bowl. 

"Perfect!" she said, clapping her hands. "You've got the touch!" 

Mori allowed a small smile. "It's... fun. And calming." 

Just then, the door swung open and in walked Bulma, wearing pajama shorts and a tank top, her blue hair slightly messy from sleep. 

"Mmm… what's that smell?" she asked, yawning and rubbing her eyes. 

"Bacon, eggs, waffles, grits, and biscuits!" Mrs. Briefs answered cheerily. 

Bulma's face lit up. "Yes! Classic Saturday breakfast!" 

She turned toward Mori. "Hey, you! Come eat with me. I wanna talk to you more about your space adventures." 

Mori blinked. "Sure." He turned to Mrs. Briefs and gave a polite nod. "Thank you for letting me watch." 

"Oh, anytime, sweetie," she said with a wink. 

Bulma plopped down on the living room couch and motioned for Mori to join her. A plate of breakfast goodies soon followed, delivered by a rolling service bot that Mrs. Briefs summoned with the push of a button. The sunlight beamed through the windows, casting the two kids in soft light as they munched and talked. 

"So…" Bulma said between bites of biscuit. "You mentioned you were on a bunch of other planets, right?" 

Mori chewed slowly. "Well, I wouldn't exactly say a bunch. But I was on a couple on my way to Whistler." 

Bulma raised an eyebrow. "Whistler?" 

Mori nodded. "Yeah. That's what I called this planet before I knew its actual name. I heard the wind a lot when I landed, so it reminded me of a whistle." 

Bulma blinked, then smirked. "That's kinda poetic. I like it." 

He nodded once. "Thanks." 

"So, you just… stopped on random planets? Like, for how long?" 

"Not long. I didn't really meet anyone," Mori admitted. "I just… rested. Slept. Moved on." 

Bulma leaned back, poking a waffle with her fork. "Huh. That's wild. So you've seen stars up close, breathed different atmospheres, flown through space... and you're only ten." 

Mori stared at his eggs. "I guess." 

She looked at him again, studying his expression. "You don't really act like a kid. You're way more… serious." 

He shrugged. "I had to be." 

Bulma went quiet for a moment, then gave a crooked smile. "Well, lucky for you, you've landed somewhere with waffles and sarcasm. I'll help lighten you up." 

Mori arched an eyebrow. "Is that… a promise or a threat?" 

Bulma burst out laughing. "Oho! You do have a sense of humor! See, there's hope for you yet." 

He let out a small, amused exhale. "I guess." 

After a moment, she leaned forward on her elbows. "Hey, by the way—there's this big tournament coming up in a couple of months. You heard of it?" 

Mori shook his head. "No." 

"Well, it's kinda a big deal. Fighters from all over enter. And I'm pretty sure Goku's gonna join." 

"Goku…" Mori repeated the name from yesterday's conversation. "That's the one with the tail, right?" 

"Yup," Bulma said. "Little weird. Super strong. Kinda clueless but sweet. I met him a couple months ago. He's different from anyone I've ever met." 

Mori tilted his head. "Different how?" 

Bulma rested her chin in her hand. "He's got this whole wild side to him. He can transform into this giant ape thing during a full moon, but only if his tail's still there." 

Mori blinked. "That's… alarming." 

"Tell me about it," she muttered. "You haven't lived until a friend accidentally wrecks your campsite with a thirty-foot rampage." 

Despite himself, Mori chuckled. 

Bulma gave him a sideways glance. "You should totally meet him. He'd get a kick outta you." 

Mori nodded. "Meeting someone closer to my age… that'd be nice." 

A pause settled over them before Bulma turned her head with a sly grin. "So, I've been meaning to ask…" 

Mori looked over. "Hmm?" 

"What's up with your eyes?" 

He blinked. "My eyes?" 

"Yeah," she said, scooting closer and pointing at them. "They're super weird but also kind of cool. Like a glowing blue-white. They remind me of some of the alien tech I saw once—like those energy cores." 

Mori looked away, a bit self-conscious. "I was born this way." 

Bulma smirked. "Not saying it's a bad thing. Just saying they make you look like you walked out of a sci-fi movie." 

He shrugged. "I've… never seen a movie." 

Her jaw dropped. "Okay. That needs to change." 

Mori frowned slightly. "Is it a requirement for being here?" 

Bulma laughed, genuinely amused. "No, silly. But movies are fun. We'll start with action ones. Maybe 'Galactic Patrol: Final Assault.' That one has space battles." 

He gave a cautious nod. "I'll try." 

"Good." She leaned back again. "You're not so bad, y'know." 

"You too," Mori replied, then added after a moment, "even with the teasing." 

She shot him a mischievous smile. "It's how I show affection. You'll get used to it." 

"I'll brace myself." 

They both laughed. 

Just then, Dr. Briefs wandered into the room, a cup of coffee in one hand and a thin data pad in the other. He looked at the two kids chatting on the couch and smiled warmly. 

"Looks like you two are getting along." 

"Trying to," Bulma said, nudging Mori. "He's kinda growing on me." 

"Is that a compliment or a mold warning?" Mori asked dryly. 

Bulma grinned. "You'll never know." 

Dr. Briefs chuckled and sipped his coffee. "Well, the day's still young. Maybe we can all head to the lab after breakfast and tinker with a few things." 

"Sounds good," Bulma said. 

Mori simply nodded, feeling something stir inside him. A calm sense of belonging. It was new. It was unfamiliar. 

But it wasn't unwelcome. 

Age 750 – May 2nd – Five Days Before the Tournament 

BOOM! 

A fiery explosion erupted behind the lab doors, sending smoke curling out in thick, dark waves. The triple doors were flung open as Bulma, Mori, and Dr. Briefs burst out in a panic, coughing and waving away the smoke. 

They came to a skidding stop in the courtyard just outside, eyes wide and hair slightly singed. 

The three of them locked eyes, dead silent. 

Then— 

"Hah!" Bulma burst out laughing, bending forward with her hands on her knees. "Well, that was a fail." 

Mori stared at her, deadpan. "Well no duh, dummy." 

Dr. Briefs doubled over, cackling. "Oh-hoho! He got you there, Bulma!" 

"Shut up!" Bulma snapped, smacking Mori on the shoulder. "That was your idea, genius!" 

"No," Mori said flatly, "you said and I quote: 'We won't die. Probably.' So technically—your fault." 

"Oh please! You didn't have to agree!" 

"I didn't. You forced me to press the button!" 

"Did not!" 

"Did too!" 

"Did not!" 

"Did too!" 

Dr. Briefs was nearly on the ground now, red-faced from laughter. 

Then a new voice bellowed from inside the house: "BULMA! WHAT DID YOU THREE BLOW UP THIS TIME?!" 

All color drained from Bulma's face. "Uh oh." 

"Uh oh?" Mori echoed. 

"RUN!" Dr. Briefs shouted. 

"BEFORE THE EAR-SNATCHING MONSTER CATCHES US!" Bulma screamed, grabbing Mori's wrist. 

With wild grins, the trio sprinted across the lawn, dodging a very unamused Mrs. Briefs, who waved a spatula like a divine weapon. The chase circled the courtyard twice before they gave up and flopped onto the couch, breathless, giggling, and safe—for now. 

A few minutes passed. The sun was still high, casting golden rays through the massive windows. The house was peaceful again. The group, now sprawled comfortably on the couch, let out long sighs of satisfaction. 

Mori's gaze drifted toward the ceiling, his lips curling into a rare, content smile. A warmth spread in his chest—not ki, but something softer. Safer. 

He thought to himself: 

I feel at ease here... safe. These past few months have been the greatest time of my life. I've never felt out of place… never felt unwelcome. 

Breaking the silence, Mori sat up slightly and spoke, voice gentle but sincere. "Guys… thank you. Thank you for everything. For allowing me to stay here with you. For making me feel like I belong—" 

Before he could finish, Bulma launched forward and yanked him into a headlock, ruffling his hair aggressively. "No need to thank us, idiot! You're family. You're my little brother now—and their son!" 

Mori froze in her grasp. His eyes widened as her words hit him like a meteor. 

My… little brother…? 

His throat tightened. His eyes shimmered. 

Then—tears. Silent and heavy, rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto Bulma's arm. 

"Wha—" Bulma blinked and eased her grip. "Mori…?" 

He pulled away slightly, trying to speak, but no words came. Just trembling lips and misty eyes. 

Mrs. Briefs, Dr. Briefs, and Bulma all moved in, surrounding him in a tight, warm hug. 

And in the center, Mori wept—not in fear or grief—but in pure, overwhelming joy. 

"Thank you…" he whispered again, choking on emotion. "Thank you…" 

In that beautiful moment, none of them noticed the faint glow from Mori's right hand. 

The purple seal etched into his palm—normally radiant and humming with energy—dimmed slightly, flickering like a heartbeat easing into rest. 

And with it, Mori unknowingly released a wave of ki. 

A sudden pulse of gentle energy flowed through the room. The Briefs flinched and backed away slightly, startled—but not scared. 

They looked at him in awe. 

Mori's body glowed faintly. His seal—though visually unchanged—was subtly emanating something… more. 

Another pulse rippled outward. This time, it didn't push them—it uplifted them. 

Mrs. Briefs blinked in surprise. "Oh my! I feel like I could clean this whole house in a minute!" 

Dr. Briefs blinked rapidly. "My head's never felt this clear—I feel sharp as ever!" 

Bulma stood up. "Okay, whoa. I feel like I could run a marathon and finally finish that gravity stabilizer!" 

Mori finally stopped crying, wiping his cheeks. He looked at them, confused. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. 

Bulma pointed at his hand. "Your seal…" 

Mori blinked, looking down. To him, it looked normal—no change, no glow. 

"What about it?" 

The three exchanged a quick glance before Dr. Briefs smiled gently and said, "Nothing, son." 

Mori's eyes softened again at that word—son. 

They all sat back down, cuddling under a blanket as the sun began to dip behind the horizon. The TV flicked on. A movie played—some old sci-fi classic with cheesy dialogue and dramatic laser battles. 

Peace. 

Eventually, Mrs. Briefs stood and stretched. "Alright, time to get dinner started!" 

The others nodded, and she disappeared into the kitchen. 

Back in the lab, an hour later, Bulma stood with her hands on her hips while Mori and Dr. Briefs prepped tools for the next project. 

"Hey, Mori," Bulma said. "Remember, the tournament starts in five days." 

Mori nodded, tightening a bolt on a small reactor piece. "I really hope it's fun. I'm looking forward to watching the combatants." 

Dr. Briefs, slipping on a glove, reached for a component on the nearby table. 

"Wellllll…" Bulma began with a cheeky grin, "you won't just be watching…" 

Mori blinked. 

Dr. Briefs froze with the part halfway in his hand. 

"You'll be in the tournament instead!" she announced brightly. 

Clatter! Dr. Briefs dropped the tool. 

"HE'LL WHAT?!" he shouted, turning sharply to his daughter. 

Mori stared at her in shock. "Please don't let that mean what I think it means…" 

Bulma held up a peace sign. "Yep! Took it upon myself to enroll you as a contestant!" 

Smack! 

Dr. Briefs smacked the back of her head. "You absolute dolt!" 

"Ow!" Bulma rubbed her head. "What was that for?!" 

"You didn't think to ask anyone first?!" 

"How am I an idiot? This'll be great for him! Hands-on experience!" 

"Oh sure, maybe toss him into a volcano next time!" 

"You're so dramatic!" 

Mori cut in calmly, "Bulma's right." 

The two froze and turned to him. 

Mori continued, "Watching might help… but I've learned more through doing. Hands-on. Just like these past few months. I understand more that way." 

The two looked at each other, then slowly nodded. 

"Well," Dr. Briefs said, scratching his cheek, "I suppose it is a learning opportunity..." 

"See?" Bulma grinned. 

With the argument set aside, the trio returned to tinkering, building, and brainstorming. An hour or two passed in the warmth of the lab's glowing lights and humming machines. 

Eventually, Mrs. Briefs' voice echoed through the house: "Dinner's ready!" 

"Let's go!" Bulma cheered, bolting toward the kitchen. 

Mori and Dr. Briefs followed behind, laughing as they went. 

It had been a day full of chaos, joy, and unexpected revelations. 

But for Mori, one thing was certain. 

He wasn't alone anymore. 

(don't think I specified but it was a time skip of a couple of months.)