The sky trembled under the shadow of Shenron, his massive coils stretching into the storm clouds. Lightning carved the horizon in white veins, thunder rolled across the barren mountains, and the golden glow of the seven Dragon Balls shimmered like molten suns.
Bulma stood frozen beneath the dragon's blazing eyes, her hair whipping wildly in the wind. The enormity of it all pressed down on her chest — every breath a tremor.
"STATE YOUR WISH."
The words shook the heavens.
For a heartbeat, Bulma didn't move. Her eyes flicked toward Buu — still as a statue beside her, crimson gaze unreadable. Then she drew in a breath, straightened her shoulders, and lifted her head.
"I wish…" Her voice echoed across the ruins. "I wish to be the most beautiful and desired woman in the world!"
The world held its breath.
Shenron's eyes flared. A surge of light erupted, enveloping everything — gold, white, and blinding. The air turned electric. Bulma felt the wind rush around her, her heartbeat synchronizing with the pulsing light. It wasn't pain, nor pleasure — it was transformation.
When the glow faded, the sky cleared as if nothing had happened. The Dragon Balls shot upward, scattering across the world once more, leaving behind a faint trail of stardust.
Bulma blinked, her pulse slowing. She looked down at her hands — smoother, more delicate — and saw her reflection in a fragment of glass on the ground.
Her eyes widened. She didn't just look beautiful — she radiated it. Every line, every gesture seemed sculpted by divine precision. Even the sunlight seemed drawn to her, framing her in soft gold.
Mai, standing nearby, gawked silently, her mouth half-open.
Buu tilted his head, examining her as one would a curious artifact. "So that's your wish," he said quietly.
Bulma smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "It is."
Shenron vanished with a low rumble, the wind settling into silence. The world seemed smaller again.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then Buu stepped closer, his expression calm but intent. "I thought you wanted something different," he said. "Didn't you plan to wish for the perfect man?"
Bulma crossed her arms, meeting his gaze with a spark of defiance. "I changed my mind."
He raised an eyebrow. "So instead of the man of your dreams, you made yourself the dream of every man."
She smirked. "Something like that."
Buu studied her face, his tone as neutral as ever — but there was a flicker of curiosity beneath it. "Why?"
"Why?" Bulma repeated, her voice soft but sharp. "Because maybe I don't need him."
Her eyes glimmered faintly in the fading light. "Besides, you said you'd reluctantly marry me, remember? So now, you don't have to be reluctant at all."
Buu blinked once — then, slowly, a grin spread across his face. "Heheheh… clever."
"Thanks," she said dryly. "I do try."
He turned, walking a few steps away, looking out at the horizon. "You are strange. You chase things you already had, then pretend it was your plan all along."
Bulma rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Don't act like you understand love or beauty."
"I don't," he admitted. "But I understand power. And you just made yourself its embodiment."
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, even Bulma felt their weight. The wish had changed more than her appearance. She felt it — the pull of attention, the unnatural magnetism that seemed to ripple from her skin. It was intoxicating… and dangerous.
Mai watched from a distance, frowning slightly. There was admiration there — and worry. "She's glowing," she muttered under her breath.
Buu turned back toward Bulma, eyes glowing faintly. "Be careful what you wish for, genius. Beauty draws eyes… and enemies."
Bulma met his gaze without flinching. "Then it's a good thing I have you, isn't it?"
For the first time, he paused — not because he didn't have a reply, but because something in her tone made him reconsider one.
"Maybe," he said finally.
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft whisper of wind through the cracked stone.
Mai coughed lightly, stepping forward. "So… what now?"
Buu's gaze drifted upward, toward the sky where the Dragon Balls had vanished. "Now," he said, "Those orbs… someone will go looking for them again. We will look only for the forth one, then we can go to your house Bulma, it seems that I need to go present myself to your parents..."
"Will you?" Bulma asked, hearts appearing in her eyes.
Buu didn't answer. He was already lost in thought, the faint pulse of his aura flickering like distant lightning.
Bulma placed her hands on her hips. "Shouldn't Mr. Hot Stuff take me somewhere?"
"Mh?" Buu said simply. "You'll see."
She huffed. "Figures."
The sun broke through the clouds, bathing the ruined castle in amber light. Bulma turned toward it, her hair catching the glow like fire. For the first time in hours, she smiled — small, genuine.
Behind her, Buu looked on — expression unreadable, but his eyes lingering a moment longer than they should have.
The wind shifted.
Somewhere in the distance, a distortion in time shimmered — faint, but growing.
Author here: good news guys, the smut is near but I have neither experience nor am I good at writing it so any help is appreciated