Sometimes Bulma forgets just how much Durian can eat. Her appetite fluctuates with no real rhyme or reason, and in the years Bulma has known her, she still hasn't learned how to predict when Durian's Saiyan hunger will rear its head. Yes, she eats more after training or fighting,but even that doesn't compare to the kind of appetite that has her stacking plate upon plate for the poor server to haul back to the kitchen.
It's a good thing Panchy is so fond of cooking for people, especially for those who genuinely enjoy whatever she makes. Panchy could create the most outlandish dish imaginable, and Durian would eat it with a smile.
"Durian." Bulma nudges her milkshake across the table, eyeing the two empty glasses already sitting beside her. "Should I get you another milkshake?"
Durian nods in thanks, and almost half of it is gone in the next instant.
Bulma can only sigh, her mask of exasperation failing to hide the fond smile threatening to surface. The food here is good, reason enough for Durian to eat as much as she can while she has the chance. Knowing them, they're not making time to come back to this restaurant anytime soon.
"Here." A slice of cake slides onto Bulma's side of the table, topped with half a strawberry.
Durian has already devoured every other slice, having ordered nearly every variety they had to offer. The strawberry one is the only kind she left behind. In fact, most of the strawberry-flavored desserts were quietly passed to Bulma, like some kind of offering.
"I'm already full, Durian."
Bulma had reached her limit a while ago and has been content to simply watch Durian continue eating. She's been eating a lot since yesterday, so this honestly isn't surprising.
Taking Bulma's words to heart, Durian eats the cake herself instead, smiling and humming all the while.
"Good food," she mumbles, leaning back in her chair. "Really good food."
"Satisfied?" Bulma asks.
"Hm." Durian grins. "We should bring Kakarot here sometime."
Bulma can only imagine.
If Durian eats this much, Kakarot would devour everything this place has to offer and probably ask for seconds. He is the true definition of a bottomless pit. His stomach might as well be a never-ending black hole with the way that boy eats, and the fact that he's still so small is baffling.
"You can take him here," Bulma says flatly. "I'm not sitting around watching that little monster eat everything in sight."
"You just watched me eat enough for five people," Durian deadpans, twirling the straw in her milkshake.
Bulma scoffs. "This is you. And that is him."
Durian may not see the logic in that, but it makes perfect sense to Bulma. Durian can do no wrong, really, while Kakarot… Kakarot is the very definition of a younger brother. Bulma loves him, truly. She would do anything for that little guy, but sometimes he just annoys her. She could look at him and immediately find something to complain about.
Of course, it's just as irritating how easily he can convince her to do him little favors.
"Uh-huh. Okay," Durian says, unconvinced and unbothered.
The server returns with a smile, clearing the table and asking if they'd like anything else. At this point, she's started suggesting items from the menu every time she checks in, having realized that Durian is likely to order whatever she recommends—even if only to try it once.
When Durian shakes her head, they're told the bill will be coming very soon
Durian slumps forward, chin resting in her palm, onyx eyes following Bulma as she reclaims her milkshake.
"I'm not paying, am I?" Durian asks—already knowing the answer.
The stern look Bulma gives her is enough, drawing a low laugh from the younger woman. "I'll get you next time."
"Never gonna happen, babe," Bulma replies confidently. "I'll be damned if you ever pay for shit."
As if summoned by Bulma's stubborn insistence on proving a point, the server returns with the bill and hands it to Bulma without hesitation. If the smirk that curves the billionaire's face looks just a little victorious, Durian chalks it up to her imagination.
That cocky little smile stays in place as they leave, the server just as pleased as they are, especially after seeing the massive tip she's earned. It's the least they could do after sending her back and forth to the kitchen all afternoon.
Once outside, Durian pauses, basking in the sunlight. She stretches her arms overhead and takes a deep breath, letting it all out in a long sigh.
"Alright," she says, shoulders loosening as she looks around. "I'm assuming you don't plan on going home just yet."
"Jewelry store," Bulma answers easily, already clinging to her arm. She looks thoughtful as she stares ahead. "There's this place that sells some really pretty jewelry."
"I'm not wearing jewelry."
"Yeah, yeah you're a fighter, I know," Bulma waves it off. "You'd still look good. How about we just look around and see what designs you like?"
"What's the point of that?" Durian frowns. If she isn't getting any, why bother picking favorites?
"I'll make special jewelry for you," Bulma says, matter-of-fact. "Rings and bracelets. Durable. With the designs you like."
"Do I have to?"
Bulma is already tugging her along. "Yes. You'd look so good, Durian."
Durian sighs and follows, resignation settling in. There's no getting out of this—Bulma has already decided she's getting jewelry.
"…Something silver," Durian adds after a moment. "Gold is obnoxious."
------------
Despite her initial lack of enthusiasm, Durian does end up picking out a few designs she genuinely likes. Bulma takes plenty of pictures, already filing them away for later. She has a vision, and she fully intends to make it reality.
Durian would look incredible with jewelry and the right clothes. Not that she doesn't already look good as she is.
While Bulma browses for herself, Durian lingers near one of the display cases. Bulma absently notices her chatting with the woman behind the counter, though she doesn't pay much attention to the conversation at first.
"I think she was flirting with me."
Durian suddenly appears at Bulma's side, wearing that almost blank expression of hers.
Bulma sighs. "Good for you."
"It was weird," Durian continues, her tone changing even though her face doesn't. "Anyway, there's this bracelet I think you'd like. But I figured you'd be… weird if I just bought it for you."
Bulma doesn't comment on the assumption, nor does she ask what Durian means by it. The thought alone is sweet enough.
"Are we leaving now?" Durian asks after a moment, while Bulma lingers by the display.
Bulma exhales and nods. No need to keep Durian here longer than she wants to be. And they still have things to do.
---------------
We're the last to arrive on Kami's Lookout, apparently. Everyone else is already here, suffering through Popo's training.
Kakarot watches with intense focus, standing perfectly still as Krillin, Yamcha, and Chi-Chi try and fail, repeatedly, to catch Popo. He knows better than anyone how difficult it is to get your hands on that man. Frustrating, too.
"Oh, there he is."
Bulma leaves my side the moment she spots little Piccolo. The small creature wanders closer to Kakarot but pauses when Bulma approaches, uncertainty flickering across his face once she takes hold of him.
"You're just so cute," she gushes.
It seems she's completely forgotten why we're here, or at least has willingly disregarded it in favor of fussing over Piccolo Jr. I suppose that leaves everything in my hands.
All the better. Kami can be difficult at times, and Bulma has a habit of growing temperamental when she doesn't get what she wants.
Kami is deeper within the Lookout. He stands with his cane planted firmly beside him, posture rigid, expression carved from stone as he watches everything unfold, particularly Piccolo and Bulma's interaction. His attention doesn't stray even when I come to stand beside him. The silence stretches on for several minutes.
"This could be a horrible mistake," he finally says. His voice is weary and grave, sounding every bit as old as his age suggests, despite his youthful body. "He is Piccolo. Once he matures and grows stronger, he could become a threat to us all."
I highly doubt it.
There isn't an ounce of malice in the new Piccolo. He's just a child, perhaps vaguely aware of what he is and who surrounds him,but a child nonetheless. Does Kami truly not realize how cruel it would be to kill a child over the possibility that he might one day become dangerous?
I understand the fear. I understand that Piccolo was once a manifestation of Kami's own expelled darkness. I understand that this Piccolo is, in some sense, the same one we fought.
But he's also something new.
And if my senses are right, something better.
"And if he grows up to be an ally?" I ask quietly. "A friend? We'd be better off for it, wouldn't we? Maybe you two could become whole again. Or maybe not. That would be up to you and him. But so far, he isn't causing trouble. And you can help make sure he never does."
Nurture can overcome nature, after all. At least in the better cases.
And as for Piccolo's nature? It doesn't feel evil. Not even close.
Beside me, Kami releases a long, weary sigh. He finally turns to face me, studying me with that intense, assessing stare he gets when weighing a difficult decision. He sighs again before speaking.
"Is there something you need from me?"
Ah. A change of subject and straight to the point.
Very well.
"I want the location of the ship you arrived on when you first came to Earth," I say. "And I'd like your permission to take it. I'm trying to find where you came from."
Hopefully his planet is still there. Hopefully it's alive—teeming with people like him. He can't be the last one. He shouldn't be.
Or maybe he's like Kakarot—sent away to spare him from destruction. That would be unbearably tragic.
But if the planet still exists, and if there are more of his kind, there's a strong chance they also have Dragon Balls. And if theirs are stronger? Better?
Maybe Kakarot could get his wish far sooner than any of us expected.
Kami doesn't respond right away. He simply nods. Silence settles between us again before he finally speaks.
"Popo can take you there. The ship operates through verbal commands in a language I no longer speak. Popo knows the phrases and can teach them to you. You may do whatever you wish with the ship."
Well. That settles that.
Kami doesn't seem particularly invested in my attempt to find others like him. Perhaps he doesn't know how to feel about it yet. If there are more of his kind, I'll have to convince him to meet them, to reconnect with his species and culture.
He could learn valuable things. Maybe even improve the Dragon Balls without having to grow stronger in the ways we've been forcing him to.
"Thanks," I say simply before leaving him to his thoughts.
He remains standing there, frowning into the distance. Such an old creature, burdened by centuries of responsibility.
I stop near Bulma, who has finally released Piccolo and is now watching him interact with Kakarot. Their exchange is something like play-fighting though Piccolo takes it seriously, while Kakarot is clearly just having fun. Fighting comes naturally to Piccolo apparently
Bulma eventually turns her attention to me, one brow raised in silent question. When I smile, she breaks into a grin.
"We can take the ship?" she asks, excitement already building. A faint blush colors her cheeks, whether from the thin air or sheer enthusiasm, it's hard to tell.
"Yep. Popo will take us there."
"Fantastic." She claps her hands together, eyes bright. "Hopefully we can pull some coordinates from it. Otherwise, we'll have to ask the dragon. Either way, we'll end up with coordinates to a planet full of Kamis and Piccolos."
She seems particularly excited about the Piccolos part.
I imagine she'd be delighted to meet a whole group of young green aliens.