Calm

Age 750 – May 6th – Night Before the Tournament 

The world was quiet. 

It was one of those rare nights where everything stood still—no cars in the distance, no rustling wind, no humming machines. Just silence. 

Above Capsule Corp, far above the glowing lights of West City, a figure hovered in the sky. Mori. 

His arms rested at his sides, his legs crossed beneath him as he floated weightlessly in the night air. The stars stretched endlessly across the sky like scattered diamonds, and the full moon hung large and bright, bathing the world in silver. 

He gazed at it—unblinking, unmoving—for what felt like hours. 

The moonlight reflected in his blue-white eyes, casting an ethereal glow across his pale skin. 

"...So bright tonight," he murmured softly to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wonder... if it's always been this beautiful." 

No one answered. But he didn't expect one. 

That's how it always was up here. Just him and the sky. 

Mori tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. 

Tomorrow's the tournament, he thought. Bulma said it'll be full of strong fighters. People from all over Earth... competing, pushing themselves, testing their limits. 

He gently rotated in the air, letting the cool night wind brush against his skin. 

"…Am I ready for something like that?" he asked aloud, uncertain. 

He thought back to the past few months—learning how to cook with Mrs. Briefs, building strange gadgets with Dr. Briefs, arguing and laughing with Bulma. He thought of the explosion, the way they'd all run from the house screaming, and how he ended up crying in their arms, overwhelmed by the first real feeling of family he'd ever known. 

And yet… 

A faint tremor buzzed in his chest. Not fear. Something else. 

Doubt? 

He clenched his hands slowly. 

"I still don't know who I really am…" he admitted, more to the stars than to himself. "I don't know why I was born… or why I was made the way I am. I don't even know what I'm capable of." 

The wind whispered across his back, as if in response. 

"…I want to find out," Mori said softly. "I want to know. I want to understand who I am, and what I can do. Not just by watching… but by doing. Like I told Bulma and Dr. Briefs…" 

He glanced down at his right hand—the seal, faintly glowing as always. To him, it looked normal. 

But something inside it… pulsed. 

He closed his fist and looked back up at the moon. 

"I don't want to hurt anyone. Not like before…" 

His voice caught in his throat. 

He could still hear the scientist's voice screaming "monster." 

He could still see the burning wreckage of the lab… feel the rush of power he didn't understand, the fear in their eyes as they backed away from him. 

That night had never left him. 

"I never wanted to hurt anyone," he whispered. "But sometimes… my power feels like it has a mind of its own." 

He slowly reached out toward the moon, stretching his hand toward its silver light. 

"But when I'm with the Briefs… I feel safe. Like I'm in control again." 

He smiled faintly. 

"Like I belong." 

The moonlight shimmered across his skin, as if agreeing. 

"I wonder if I'll ever meet anyone like me…" he said quietly. "Or if I'll always be different. Alone." 

The question hung in the air. 

But even as he spoke it, Mori shook his head. "No… I'm not alone. Not anymore." 

A small smile played on his lips. 

"They've given me a home. A place to come back to. No matter what happens at the tournament tomorrow… I'll remember that." 

His eyes narrowed, the expression in them sharpening. 

"But I won't hold back. Not if I want to grow. Not if I want to understand this power." 

He looked down at the Earth—at Capsule Corp below, glowing warmly in the night. 

He could sense the faint flickers of ki in the house: Dr. Briefs dozing in his armchair with a book in his lap, Mrs. Briefs snoring peacefully in bed, and Bulma tossing and turning as she probably dreamed about engines and blueprints. 

His chest ached with a quiet joy. 

"They believe in me," he whispered. 

And that means… I can believe in myself too. 

The moon reflected in his eyes once more. 

"…I'll fight tomorrow," he said softly. "Not to win. Not to prove anything. But to grow. To understand." 

He let the silence stretch a little longer, letting the weight of his thoughts settle like mist on the wind. 

After a moment, he laid back in the sky, letting himself float flat with arms behind his head, like he was lying on an invisible bed made of stars. 

"...I bet the others are strong," he murmured. "Maybe even stronger than me…" 

That thought didn't scare him. In fact, it made his heart race a little. 

"...I can't wait to see what they're like." 

A faint breeze brushed his hair back. Mori closed his eyes for a moment. 

Just to listen. 

To breathe. 

To exist in this rare, perfect stillness. 

"I hope Goku is there…" he added, eyes still shut. "Bulma keeps talking about him. Says he's wild, but strong. Sounds fun." 

A chuckle escaped his lips. 

"Bet he'd be annoying." 

His smile grew. 

"But… maybe he'll be my first real rival." 

His hands slowly drifted down and rested on his chest as his breathing steadied. His mind was calming, thoughts slowly fading into that place between wakefulness and sleep. 

But just as he felt himself drift, a pulse shot through his chest—faint, but deep. 

Mori's eyes shot open. 

It wasn't violent, like before. 

It wasn't painful. 

But he felt it. 

A deep ripple of something—energy—coming from somewhere within. 

He floated up again, staring at his right hand. The seal hadn't changed… but something inside had. 

"…Huh." 

His brow furrowed. 

No fear. No chaos. Just… something stirring. 

He closed his eyes and placed his hand over his heart. 

"…It's like it's waiting for me," he whispered. 

Waiting for me to understand it. 

He opened his eyes and looked back toward the moon. 

"…Then I'll give it a reason to awaken." 

The wind around him shifted slightly, as if the night itself acknowledged his resolve. 

He didn't know who he was. 

He didn't know why he had this power. 

But starting tomorrow… he'd begin to find out. 

He turned and gently floated back down, lowering himself toward Capsule Corp as the stars twinkled quietly overhead. 

And in the silence of the night, one thought echoed in his mind: 

I'm ready. 

May 7th, Age 750 – Tournament Day 

The morning sun poured into the windows of Capsule Corporation, flooding the kitchen in a warm golden light. The air smelled of sizzling bacon, fresh biscuits, and warm waffles. Mrs. Briefs, cheerful as ever, hummed a gentle tune as she flitted around the kitchen in her apron, placing plates and refilling juice glasses with practiced grace. 

At the table, Mori sat beside Bulma, his usual quiet curiosity softened by the calmness of the moment. He was dressed simply: a loose navy-blue shirt, dark slacks, and soft-soled shoes. Nothing flashy. Nothing that screamed "fighter." Just… Mori. 

Bulma was tearing into her plate like someone who hadn't eaten in days. 

"I told you today was gonna be awesome," she said between bites. "Tournaments are where legends are made, y'know?" 

Mori chuckled softly and nodded. "You've said that every day this week." 

"She's not wrong," Dr. Briefs added, seated across the table with his usual morning coffee in hand. "These martial arts tournaments attract some of the strongest fighters on the planet." 

He glanced at Mori over his glasses, his gaze warm but thoughtful. 

"Some of the most interesting, too." 

Mori tilted his head, chewing his food slowly. "Interesting how?" 

"Let's just say… power isn't the only thing that gets revealed at these things," Dr. Briefs replied with a knowing smile. "Sometimes, the right people find each other when fists start flying." 

Bulma paused mid-chew, grinning. "Ugh, now you're getting all mystical." 

"I'm just saying…" Dr. Briefs finished his sip of coffee, then leaned back slightly. "Big things tend to start small. Don't underestimate a simple meeting." 

Mori looked down at his plate, thoughtful. 

After breakfast, as Mrs. Briefs cleaned up and Bulma ran off to change, Dr. Briefs stayed behind with Mori. 

"You nervous?" he asked, placing a hand on Mori's shoulder. 

"…A little," Mori admitted. 

"That's good," Dr. Briefs said. "Means you care. But listen—don't worry about winning or losing. Just be yourself. Experience everything. Learn something new. You've already come so far, and this is just the beginning." 

He offered a small smile. "Besides, you've got fans now." 

Mori smiled back—small, but sincere. 

"Thanks… for everything." 

With the sun climbing higher and the Capsule Corp ship prepped, Mori and Bulma set off. The skies were clear, the wind cool. Bulma piloted casually, one hand on the controls, the other waving around as she told Mori story after story about previous tournaments—some real, some heavily embellished. 

After a few hours, around 2 PM, the ship touched down just outside the tournament grounds. The area buzzed with energy—crowds of people chatting, reporters snapping photos, fighters stretching and warming up under shaded trees. 

"This is it!" Bulma grinned, practically bouncing with excitement. "I'm gonna go find my friends—you stay right here, okay?" 

Mori nodded once, and Bulma, without another word, darted off into the crowd. 

"…She didn't even say goodbye," Mori chuckled quietly, shaking his head. 

He turned, walking to a nearby bench shaded by a large tree. As he sat down, he let his senses stretch out—not ki sensing exactly, more like feeling the pulse of life around him. It was… vibrant. Raw. Beautiful. 

Then, something caught his attention. 

Across the grounds, near the main path leading into the arena, stood a boy. Wild, spiky black hair, orange gi, blue undershirt and boots. But what drew Mori's gaze wasn't just the boy's energy—it was the tail. 

His eyes narrowed slightly, not in suspicion… but curiosity. That tail… he'd seen it before. In a dream, maybe. Or a vision. 

The boy stopped walking. 

Then turned. 

His eyes—black, deep, innocent but fierce—locked with Mori's. 

And in that moment, something changed. 

The air didn't shift. The wind didn't blow. But somewhere—something—shivered. 

The Sacred World of the Kais 

Far away, in the stillness of the Sacred World of the Kais, the Supreme Kai sat peacefully on a cushion, a small ceramic cup of tea in his hand. It was a rare moment of quiet in the cosmos, and he intended to savor it. 

He brought the cup to his lips. 

The surface of the tea rippled. 

Once. 

Twice. 

Crack! 

The entire cup shattered in his hand, hot tea splashing onto the ground. 

"Wh-What?" Shin gasped, quickly standing. His eyes locked onto the spilled tea, heart racing. He wasn't afraid of broken pottery—but of what he felt beneath the surface. 

The tremor. 

It wasn't the planet. 

No… 

It was the universe. 

He spun around, eyes darting toward the empty sky, then back toward the ground. The Sacred World of the Kais began to hum faintly beneath his feet. 

A gentle rumble. 

No earthquake. No threat. 

But something—some event—had stirred the very foundation of reality. 

He rushed to the pedestal, his hands hovering over a smooth crystal orb floating inches above its base. 

"Show me," he whispered urgently. "What caused this?" 

The crystal shimmered, then focused. 

Two figures appeared. 

Two young beings. 

One with wild black hair and a tail. The other with pale skin and glowing blue-white eyes. 

Goku. 

And Mori. 

Staring at one another. 

Shin whispered. "They're just… children…" 

But the feeling in his chest—like the moment before a star goes supernova—said otherwise. 

"…The universe can't contain its excitement," he said in disbelief. "This meeting—this moment—is too important. Something has shifted." 

"Well," a calm voice spoke from behind him, "that's quite the analysis." 

Shin nearly jumped out of his robe. 

He spun around to see a tall figure with silver-blue hair, a staff in hand and a gentle smile on his face. 

"Whis!" Shin exclaimed. "Don't sneak up on me like that!" 

"My apologies," Whis said, clearly not sorry. He tilted his head at the crystal. "So… it's begun?" 

Shin nodded slowly. "You feel it too?" 

"Oh yes." Whis tapped his staff lightly on the ground, and the orb displayed the image again: Mori sitting on the bench, Goku still staring across the courtyard. 

"They're still so young," Shin murmured. "But it's like… their energies are *talking.*" 

"Indeed," Whis agreed. "It's not their power that caused the universe to react. It's their potential. Two chaotic stars brushing against one another for the first time." 

Shin stepped back from the orb, hands clenched behind his back. "I've watched over the universe for millennia… and I've never felt anything like this." 

"They're both anomalies in their own right," Whis said thoughtfully. "One created through chaos, the other through fate. Their destinies were always meant to intertwine. This meeting… is just the beginning." 

Shin looked at Whis carefully. "Do you think they'll clash?" 

"Eventually." Whis' tone didn't change. "But not today. Today, they simply see each other. A recognition of something they can't name yet." 

Shin exhaled deeply. "What should we do?" 

"Nothing," Whis replied. "Let them grow. Let them experience. Let the threads of destiny weave naturally." 

He glanced at the shattered teacup. "The universe may tremble… but it doesn't fear them." 

Shin followed his gaze, quiet. "Still… the fact that this was the reaction…" 

"It only confirms what we already suspected," Whis said softly. "This timeline… this story… is different." 

As the two divine beings stood in silent thought, the orb continued to show Goku and Mori—still staring at each other, something unknown and ancient passing between them. 

Back on Earth 

Mori blinked. 

The boy across the field smiled at him—grin wide and carefree. 

And then, just like that, turned and ran off with a group of other fighters. 

Mori stared for a moment longer… then smiled too. 

He didn't know why that moment had felt important. 

But it had.