by DoraMouse
Act 6
Nervous was an understatement. Videl had already worn a visible tread in the carpet. If she kept pacing... At this rate, she'd soon wear a hole in the carpet. And then perhaps she'd wear a rut through the floor. But the whole situation made her nervous. So she kept pacing. Back and forth, back and forth. Treading in a neat straight line with stiff steps.
How many illegal things had she done today? Too many. Inwardly, Videl sighed. At moments like these, she considered changing her career. Because even though she enjoyed most aspects of detective work... Videl doubted that she was setting a good example for her daughter.
And that wasn't even the main reason that she was nervous. No, Videl was anxious because she didn't feel as if she had proper control of the situation anymore. To sum the day up... Dr. Briefs was dead. His wife, Mrs. Victoria Briefs, was also dead and the cause of her death remained unknown. His daughter, Bulma Briefs, was alive. For now. But how long would that last? Bulma had already been arrested once. She had escaped from a jail somewhere in West Capital City. The police had announced a sizable reward for Bulmas capture - alive. However since her escape Bulma had broken into a hospital, had pulled the hospitals fire alarm just to create a distraction AND had stolen the complete set of security records - as well as a few medical records - from the facility. So now... As soon as the local police figured out the latest streak of crimes... The reward for Bulmas capture would probably increase. And the terms would likely change from 'wanted alive' to 'dead or alive'.
Hard not to feel a bit edgy, all things considered. Because what if the police figured out where they were? What if a bounty hunter had followed them? What if Bulma HAD actually murdered both of her parents? Videl just wasn't sure where she stood in all this mess. Where should she go? Who should she trust? Videl had no way to gauge how much immediate danger she might be in.
She didn't like being here, though. Videl glanced at her surroundings with distaste. A tiny room - or vault, rather - about the width of two elevators and with slightly less charm. Steel walls and square-ish and probably soundproofed. No windows. Thick carpet. And the door... Well. Technically, they hadn't broken in. Capsule Corporation owned this little storage unit. Which was part of why Videl hated to be here. What if some employee of Capsule Corp happened to stop by? What if someone realized that Bulma might decide to hide out at the lesser-known properties owned by the company? What if they had set off an alarm? What if there were hidden cameras in this room? What if someone had already seen them and called the police and...
"Idiots." Bulma sneered. A large wooden desk occupied most of the small room and somewhere amid the clutter on the desktop, Bulma had found a radio. She was listening to the police bulletins. "I'm worth more than that." Bulma said as she sifted through the stack of illegally-obtained security tapes from Lotus Medical Center. She exhaled a stream of smoke then held her cigarette between two fingers while she attempted to suppress a coughing fit. "Hmf." A tinge of perpetual superiority hardened Bulmas gaze. Videl still had the gun - but Bulma seemed to know that, for the moment, she was calling the shots. "If that's all they're going offer, I can match the reward with pocket change."
Videl was not impressed. "Really?" Still pacing, she frowned her disapproval. It had taken all of two seconds for Videl to realize that Bulma was not, to put it mildly, her kind of person. "Out of curiosity, just how much are you worth these days?"
"More than you will ever be." Bulma replied without hesitation, indicating that she'd probably used this line many times before.
Videls eyes sparked with anger at the insult. "Not if I pull this trigger." She grumbled in withering tones.
"Aw. Is someone jealous?" Bulma managed an eerie smirk to compliment her smug tone. "What a shame." And with that, Bulma pressed a button.
Having no windows and only one lamp, the room had been poorly lit to begin with. But now something was hissing... And the room was filling with haze. Videls immediate reaction was to cover her nose and mouth with her hands - a feat that required dropping the gun. She squinted, her eyes watering and tried to see her way clearly to the door.
The door slammed shut in Videls face. Bulma could be heard laughing on the other side. The older womans voice sounded distant at first but then she seemed to lean closer. "I don't know who the hell you are." Bulma confided in a half-shout. "But you aren't going to cause me anymore trouble!"
Wrong. Videl thought. She refused to die like this. Her aura flashed into place around her.
Abruptly something in the haze sizzled. The heat generated by Videls aura reacted with the chemicals in the air. Videl noticed. Too late to undo the changes. Too late to power down and hope that nothing would happen. The reaction was already underway. So Videl threw her aura outward, hoping to create a wide buffer zone to shield her from the pending explosion. And of course by expanding her aura, she increased the speed and intensity of the reaction. What could have been a moderate blast, grew.
An explosive minute later, Videl emerged from a cloud of smoke and dust. She was hacking and wheezing and had blurred vision but otherwise seemed fine. At least, that's what Videl thought. She knew that she probably looked awful but she didn't know the extent of it. She couldn't see very well at the moment and maintaining her defensive aura had numbed her. Hence Videl didn't notice the bruises, burns and multiple scratches that she'd earned from fragments of debris. Her entire body ached and her eyes stung but that was all the pain she registered.
Videl was still standing. And the room was gone. So she wobbled over to Bulma - who was now unconscious on the cement - and squatted down. Videl reached out and gingerly removed the packet of cigarettes from a pocket of Bulmas jacket. Inside the box, next to the cigarettes, was a capsule. Videl had suspected as much. Bulma must have slipped the capsule into her pocket sometime during their conversation. Which meant that this... This capsule had to be the one that contained the evidence she needed.
Exhaustion. Thirst. Suddenly it was quite a challenge to think straight. Videl shook her head. She couldn't go home - home was too far away now. And besides, there was work to be done. But... She was just so tired.
Tired enough, in fact, that Videl didn't even notice a rather large energy signature until the owner of that energy signature was right beside her. A tap on her shoulder and the world went dark.
Again. There. Goten leaned on the table, one hand under his chin, and watched. West Capital City was full of restaurants and cafes and grocery stores - but most of those businesses had closed for the evening. And with Uub being only ten years old... They couldn't go searching for a meal at any of the various local taverns or clubs. So they had settled for a humble deli. And while Uub was quizzing all the employees - because Uub refused to eat anything that the employees couldn't identify for him - Goten sat at one of the tables, staring out a window.
There. Again. That had to be at least the tenth time...
A police car drove past outside, cruising along at a slow speed that made it possible to see that the officers in the car stared towards the deli as they went by. And then, a few minutes later, a police car would cruise down the other side of the street. So... Was it just one police car, driving up and down the avenue? Or was it two different vehicles, circling the block?
And why were the police so interested in the deli? Were the officers just hungry? Or were they after Uub?
Goten suspected that it was probably the latter. Businesses generally didn't appreciate customers who carried spears. And in a modern city like this... People would take one look at Uub - with his casual clothes and his tribal weapons and his mohawk of hair - and they'd decide that he was trouble. So maybe the police would try to confiscate Uubs spear and dagger. Maybe the police wanted to arrest Uub for appearing to be a gang member. If the officers learned of Uubs age... Then they might even try to arrest Uub for breaking curfew laws.
Wonderful. Goten thought sarcastically.
Goten considered his options. He could just sneak out. If Uub got arrested then it would give Goten a valid excuse to raid a West Capital City police station. But... Uub had already had a rough day. And Uub was in the habit of carrying grudges. And there was no guarantee that the police station would have any useful evidence anyway. So Goten chose to remain at the deli. He sat and watched and waited. He made a mental inventory of all the doors and windows. Which was sort of pointless, he supposed, because if he really had to escape then he could just exit through a wall or ceiling.
However this was a city. Very few of the buildings were single level. Going out through a wall or ceiling might weaken the structural integrity of the entire place. What if a piece of the building collapsed? What if innocent people got hurt? What if...
"This seat taken?"
Goten nearly fell out of his chair. But he recovered his composure quickly and focused on the person who had spoken. Without waiting for a reply, the stranger sat down at Gotens table.
The stranger was an older man. Not ancient but he had to be in his mid-thirties, at least. The majority of the strangers face was hidden by a baseball cap and an oversized pair of dark tinted sunglasses. His pitch black hair had a few streaks of gray and was tied back into a short ponytail. And he seemed to deliberately wear clothes a size too big for him, to disguise his features. Or maybe he was carrying a concealed weapon?
Could this be an undercover agent for the police? Didn't agents have to dress better? And what kind of person would actually wear dark sunglasses at night? It was hard to feel threatened by anyone who was probably rendered half blind by their choice in eyewear.
The man looked out the window and seemed to watch the police cars - now there was clearly more than one vehicle out there - go past. Then he turned and Goten spent a moment staring at his own reflection in the surface of the sunglasses. "So what brings you out here?" The man asked. "Don'tcha have school tomorrow? Or have you graduated already?"
Goten winced. He DID have school tomorrow. It wasn't a wholly pleasant thing to be reminded of because he hadn't finished all of his homework today. Plus there was an early club meeting in the morning and... Goten blinked. His thoughts of school didn't last long. Because he had noticed the edge of a very thin, very dark red line on the older mans face. It was so faint... And the sunglasses were so ridiculously distracting... That Goten had to concentrate to make out the rest of the scar.
The vaguest hints of recognition must have crept into Gotens expression. Because the man chuckled and nodded, returning his attention to the window. "Yea. It's been a while. Nobody visits anymore. Guess we've all been busy."
Silence.
Eventually the man lifted his sunglasses slightly. While his voice was soft and calm and laced with humor, his eyes held an expression that brimmed with concern. "The world's not endangered again, is it?"
Goten smiled and relaxed a little, his suspicions confirmed. "Nah. Not as far as I know, Yamucha-san."
The man shook his head and let his sunglasses conceal his eyes again. "You don't have to use the -san." He muttered, leaning back in his chair.
Silence. Outside, the police cars cruised down the avenue. Then one car pulled up to the curb and parked. And then another police car parked behind it. And then a police aircar landed nearby.
Goten stood and began to move towards the service counter. At the same instant, Yamucha stretched and stood.
They both hesitated. Without words, it became clear that they had each assumed that they were the target of the police. And while neither of the warriors were afraid of the police... The deli was not a good place to fight. Too small. Too cluttered. Too much risk of innocents getting hurt.
"What is going on?" Uub had stopped arguing with the deli employees a while ago. Goodness only knew how long he'd been standing there, leaning against a wall and quietly observing the situation. While Uub respected the fact that Goten hadn't attacked... And while he realized that Yamucha had more energy than the average person... Uub preferred to be cautious. Especially of city folk. So he leaned the tip of his spear in Yamuchas direction. "And who is this?"
"Introductions later." Goten cut in. "Come on. I can't afford to have this place rebuilt."
Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. And the precise definition of 'best friend' is something that every creature alive must decide for themselves. Maybe your best friend is someone that you see each day at school or at work or at the bus stop on the way home. Maybe your best friend is someone that always remembers your birthday. Someone who is willing to call long-distance simply to ask how you are doing. Someone who lets you share the shelter of their umbrella in a rain storm.
Regardless of what you do together, though, there are certain traits that all best friends have in common. A best friend - a real friend - is someone that you can trust. Someone who will tell you the truth when you need to hear it, even if you don't always want to hear it. Someone who will defend your reputation but accept your flaws. Someone who, no matter how many years go by, will always be there for you.
Goku was of the opinion that he didn't really deserve a best friend. Yet he had a best friend, the best that anyone could ever ask for. Kuririn.
They had first met around thirty-two years ago. Goku had been age twelve, Kuririn had barely turned thirteen and they had both wanted martial arts training from Master Roshi. So for eight months, they had trained and sparred together. And that was, really, the extent of it. Because while Kuririn had continued to train at Kame Island... Goku had wandered around the planet, having adventures and defeating criminals and eventually getting trained by the Earthbound immortals. Goku had still seen Kuririn every three years or so - since they both entered the various tournaments held back then - but they hadn't communicated much. And after the 23rd Budoukai... The isolation had grown. Five years here. Seven years there.
And yet no matter how long the gap... No matter how long Goku went missing or remained dead... No matter how ridiculously severe the danger... Kuririn had always managed to keep a good opinion of Goku. And he'd always been willing help. Who else but Kuririn would have traveled to a potentially hostile alien world in an ancient spaceship, just for his friends sake? Who else but Kuririn could have taken it upon himself to help train first Gohan and then Goten during Gokus various absences? Who else but Kuririn would have been willing to fight and, on more than one occasion, die just to buy Goku some time?
To be honest, it made Goku a bit ashamed. Because he felt like he should know Kuririn a little better. But they had only really spent those eight months together. And that had been so long ago. And their main concern back then had been to focus on Master Roshis training. So... Their friendship was - or at least, Gokus end of it seemed - rather shallow. Because Goku didn't know if Kuririn actually had a middle name or a last name. He didn't know anything about Kuririns history or relatives. He hadn't been able to attend Kuririns wedding or any of Kuririns funerals. He wasn't sure if Kuririn had ever held a job. What did Kuririn want to accomplish? Did he have any private ambitions? What did Kuririn hope for in the future? When was Kuririns birthday?
Goku didn't know.
What Goku did realize, as he sped towards Kame Island, was that he didn't really want to disturb his best friend. Kuririn would be willing - not eager, he wasn't eager as much anymore - to help but... What could be done? And hadn't Kuririn done more than enough, already?
Goku had spent a significant part of his childhood growing up alone in the wilderness. So he had gotten rather accustomed to being self-sufficient. Even now, age forty-eight, Goku didn't like having to rely on others. And the people that Goku knew... Yea - they would probably offer to help, if he asked. But they had already done so much. It just wasn't fair, to keep bugging them.
Understand that Goku still firmly believed that pretty much everything bad that had happened to planet Earth during the last four centuries was, somehow, his fault. And so the mere thought of bothering any resident of Earth, who had no doubt suffered from the blight of cruel villains which Goku had eventually defeated... Caused Goku a pang of guilt. Because Goku felt indebted to his friends - to Kuririn in particular, only ChiChi ranked higher in this regard - for all the kindness and patience and courage that they had already shown. Wouldn't it seem ungrateful, to bother them again? And what if, just for once, Kuririn refused to get involved? Nobody could blame him. Everyone had their limits. But...
Even though Goku was, somewhere inside, accustomed to being a loner - he didn't want to risk the rejection. Because the day that his best friend in the world flat out refused to help... Goku couldn't quite imagine. It would signal the end of an era. The end of a valuable friendship, perhaps. And... Maybe when that happened... Maybe it would be time to completely retire, once and for all, from fighting.
Kame Island was a growing dot on the horizon now. A wide lump of sand rising from the calm waters of the east ocean. A roughly circular beach fringed in palm trees. The center of the island was occupied by a two-story house. The wooden house was painted pink on the outside, a color that clashed with the bright red tile of the classic a-frame roof.
Goku hestiated, his heart pounding. There were only a couple other locations on Earth that could arouse such a diverse mix of emotions for him. So many memories... Age twelve, Goku had trained at Kame Island. Age twenty-four, he had been confronted by Raditz at Kame Island.
But now the sky was dark and so was the water. Goku couldn't just stop in, unannounced, at night. Why wake people up? He wasn't even sure what to say. Kame Island was fairly isolated but even the Kame House had a television these day, so Kuririn and everyone there would have heard the world news by now. They wouldn't need anyone to tell them. And... Well. Why should Kuririn care? So Capsule Corporation had hit a bad patch, so what? It wasn't as if Kuririn would know where to find Dr. Briefs soul or Vegetas daughter - right? But then... Why had Uranai Baba...?
"About time you got here."
The voice that had spoken belonged to a figure that hovered just above the waves. A feminine figure with a slightly metallic gleam to her skin and a perpetually glassy tint to her eyes. A feminine figure with absolutely no detectable energy signature.
"Let me guess." Android 18 seemed torn between being amused and being insulted. "You didn't think we'd notice that a Super Saiyan is hovering outside our home? Please. A ki like yours could probably wake the dead."
Gokus typical I-hate-it-when-anything-sneaks-up-on-me reaction was swiftly replaced by mild amazement. He tried not to stare. It was just that... He'd never seen an android in this particular condition before.
"What?" Android 18 frowned. She wore fuzzy pink slippers and mismatched pajamas. Most of her hair was rolled back into curlers but a few pieces had been braided. Her face was covered in a blue-green lotion of some sort. Her fingernails were a glittery shade of purple. "Oh for crimineys sake..." 18 grumbled. "Men." She put a hand on her hip, "In case you've forgotten - I have a thirteen year old daughter. And this is her idea of fun."
"Oh." Goku took a moment to be privately grateful that he'd only ever had sons. "Uhm. So..."
"You're going to have to come inside if you want to speak to anyone else." A wicked smile had brightened 18s features. "Perhaps Marron will even take a look at those hands of yours. Ever had a manicure?"
"Ah. Erm. Thanks, I think. But... You know, maybe I'll just come back later..."
"Don't tell me that you're afraid of a little nail polish?" Android 18 smirked. "Oh come on. You might as well get used to it. Isn't your granddaughter going to be at that age soon?"
I really hope not. Goku thought. But he chose not say anything. In truth, he wasn't sure about Pans interests. And he didn't quite know what a manicure was. But the whole concept of cosmetics... Had never settled well with Goku. Because he kind of suspected that needles might be involved. And he HATED needles. Goku was backpeddling in midair. "That's okay. I can wait. It's nothing urgent."
"You fly over here in Super Saiyan mode in the middle of the night, without calling ahead, to visit for the first time in YEARS and it's not urgent?" 18 sounded dubious - perhaps even offended. "You expect me to believe that?
Goku had to admit that she had a point. It did seem rather crazy. But how could he explain...
"Oh no." A flash of memory, a click of realization. Goku muttered a curse and began to turn away from Kame Island.
"Hey! Goku! Where are you going?" Down on the beach, Oolong folded his arms and shook his head. The humanoid pig was clearly indignant. He shouted to a figure standing in the doorway of the house. "Jeez. See? He doesn't even talk to us anymore. Guess we're not good enough -"
A streak of gold zipped past Android 18 and landed on the beach in a crouch. The intense aura billowed out, knocking Oolong off his feet and charring a few of the palm trees. "The blueprints..." Goku couldn't hide his anxiety. He would have liked to - for his friends sake. But... "The android blueprints. You left them at Capsule Corp, didn't you?"
Kuririn leaned against the doorframe of the Kame House. His voice mirrored the concern that Goku couldn't hide. "Well, yeah. But that was ages ago. Before the Cell Games. Why? What's wrong?"
Excitement. Buu tilted his round head and listened to the voices in the next room. Ten minutes ago, when he had arrived at the mansion, there had been surprise and panic. But now... His friend, Mr. Satan, sounded happy.
And so did Fujiko.
Buu had met the Satan City Police Chief before. Several times. Because Fujiko was a friend of Videls and Fujiko also attended a lot of the same conferences that Mr. Satan got invited to. Buu didn't really understand the human concepts of police or law but he liked Fujiko anyway. More than once, in the past ten years, the Satan City Police Chief had rescued Buus dog - Bee, who never wore a collar - from the local pound.
It felt good, to know that the people he cared about were happy. Although Buu had to admit - he wasn't sure WHY they were happy. Maybe it was because he'd brought Videl home? Yea. That had to be it. Because Videl didn't typically take naps in parking lots.
Buu did not sleep very often and when he did sleep, it wasn't for long. So when his friends in one location went to bed, Buu would fly or teleport to another part of the planet. Because there was always someone awake on Earth - somewhere. Always something to do. Thus after the game of tag with Pan had ended... Buu had wandered off to the west. A few months ago, he had found a small village out in that direction and he now visited the place every night. Buu thought it was fun. The villagers would start a project - plowing a field or building a barn or something like that - and Buu would finish it. Alone. At night. Usually in less than five minutes. Sometimes he would return in the morning just to watch the surprised reactions of the villagers. He didn't truly understand what the villagers meant when they bowed to him and called him Kami-sama - he'd tried to explain that his name was Buu - but it made him laugh. Which was a good feeling.
However most of his wanderings were confined to the wilderness. Buu was always searching for new things to explore and experience. Mountains and forests and rivers and oceans... And so it was only because Buu considered Mr. Satan a friend, that Buu had decided to keep track of Videls energy signature.
For the past ten years... Buu had gotten accustomed to picking out the ki of the people he respected. So even though Mr. Hercule Satan was not terribly strong, even though Mr. Satan was usually in the middle of a crowded place... Buu could detect his friend with ease. And so even though Videls energy signature had only flared up for a moment... Even though she had been in a city, surrounded by the energy of all the things living there... Buu had noticed.
He thought it was sort of strange, the way Videls energy had flashed. Even when she was angry - Videl didn't usually manage to raise her ki that much. And she had been hurt and bleeding when he'd first arrived... Had she summoned enough power to injure herself? Why would Videl do that? Since when was Videl capable of doing that? It didn't make sense to Buu.
Whenever Buu had a question, he went to Mr. Satan first. So after healing Videl and also a blue-haired lady that had been sleeping on the pavement nearby, Buu had picked up both the humans and teleported to Hercules mansion in Satan City. Hercule had immediately called Fujiko. The police chief had arrived within minutes. They had put Videl on the sofa and covered her with a blanket. They had handcuffed the blue-haired woman to a chair. And now...
Buu couldn't contain his curiosity. "What that?" He pointed at the images on the television screen. It didn't seem like a funny show... So why did it make his friends happy?
Fujiko was momentarily at a loss for words. "Uhm. Well. This is..."
"This is a very special show, Buu. We're lucky that you found it. Here. Watch." Hercule tapped some buttons on the tv remote control. The images on the screen went fuzzy as things moved backwards in fast motion. The reverse-motion slowed then stopped and the image cleared as the recording played. "See this man?" Hercule pointed to one of the people on the screen. "His name is Dr. Briefs. He looks perfectly healthly here but... He's dead now, Buu. Do you understand? He can't play anymore. And maybe these recordings will show us what happened to him."
"Oh." Buu watched as the security cameras followed Dr. Briefs through the hospital. Some part of Buu was already bored. Yet there was a part of his mind that found the whole concept rather creepy. Buu didn't like watching shows about people who couldn't play anymore.
Fujiko hesitated a moment and then pressed a button on the tv. The show stopped. Fujiko took out one recording and then placed another in. "Here..." Fujiko nodded, Mr. Satan pressed some buttons on the tv remote and a new image played. "Maybe you can help us, Buu-san." Mr. Satan had wheeled in another - smaller - television from a different room earlier. Fujiko turned on the second set as well. More button pushing and the images on both screens froze.
"This is the problem." Fujiko explained. "Do you see the numbers in the top left corner of each screen? Yes? That is a clock, Buu-san. And according to this clock - "
"Bulma Briefs was in two places at once." Hercule pointed to the sleeping blue-haired woman that they had handcuffed to a chair. "That is Bulma Briefs. We don't think she could have been in two places at once, Buu. We just don't know which place she was at for sure. So... Do you think you could check?"
Five million years ago, Buu had been summoned. Had been created as a magical warrior. So his main skills were fighting and spell-casting. But the wizard had wanted to make Buu invincible... Thus Buu had gradually learned the skills - the spells, actually - of a healer as well. Absorbing the energy of others, regenerating... It was a lot more difficult to defeat someone who wouldn't stay injured. And even more difficult to defeat someone who could predict or mimic your every move. Buu had never been meant to have any psychic abilities. It was just an accidental extension of his healing talent, really. A side-effect from having absorbed a few gods. Reading minds was an easy way to tell what needed healing, what kind of damage had been done. And while he hadn't had much practice at healing creatures other than himself... Buu was good enough that he could, probably, enter someone elses brain and find what he was after.
However the idea just plain didn't appeal to him. Buu conveyed this by pulling down on both sides of his mouth to comically distort his face while he said: "Bleah."
"It's very important, Buu-san" Fujiko persisted. "If this picture is correct -" Fujiko indicated the screen on the left, "then Bulma Briefs is guilty of murder. If the other one is correct then she's innocent."
"Bleah." Buu sprouted an extra pair of arms and made the gesture of covering his ears. For Buu, this was just a gesture since he didn't actually have any visible ears. He might have also covered his eyes but since his eyes were constantly squinted shut anyway...
Mr. Satan sighed. It seemed so ironic. Buu had the logic of a five-year-old and the power of... Eh. Was there even anything worth comparing Buu to? Probably not. Anyway. Buu had the logic of a five-year old. And that meant..."Of course, we'd reward you for your help."
"Bleah?"
"Is it true that there's going to be a new chocolate factory -" Mr. Satan began. Because he knew there was going to be a new factory. And since he was famous, he could always request a private tour.
"No!" Buu interrupted, startling his friends. "No want candy!"
Fujiko and Hercule both stared at the pink monster as if he'd just quoted Shakespeare. For Buu to refuse sweets... Was unheard of.
Eventually Hercule recovered. He placed a hand on Buus forehead. "Hrm. No fever..."
Buu blinked and checked his own forehead then nodded. "Not sick." He confirmed. "Buu wants something better."
"What's better than chocolate?" Mr. Satan asked.
Buu paused. On the one hand... He'd promised Pan that he wouldn't tell anyone the secret because she wasn't supposed to tell anyone. On the other hand... Pan had told him anyway. And Buu felt that Hercule and Fujiko could be trusted. And this was important. Because this was - Pan had said so - the only sure-fire way to cure Bee. Forever. So Buu dropped his voice to a whisper and leaned forward all confidentially and shocked his friends for a second time. "Dragonballs." He told them. "Buu wants dragonballs."