Chapter 4: To Dust
Dust and sand billowed as the unlikely duo came upon the world. Puffing again down to the cracked surface, Baba the witch descended. Gently she touched down, and Majin Buu, hanging below and asleep from the ride woke swiftly. He started, suddenly, popping a bubble of mucus which had precariously bobbled the entire ride. Yawning, he looked around at his surroundings.
It was quickly established to be a different venue than before. Before, Buu had not paid much of any detail to the surroundings about. But even he was aware of the lush paradise, tucked away in its little corner of the galaxy, in tepid innocence. Here, there was but a flat line vision. Barren and wasted was the ground about, though not in the way of the previous encounter in Hell. Here, there was nothing at all. No rocks, no stinking gases, no wretched din of villains. It was peaceful.
Baba had chosen this place for that singular purpose. If only to stall or wane the madman's pursuit. She assumed that he had returned to kill Goku, after all. That could not happen. For with Goku was the device crafted from Majin himself. Were the two pieces to come in contact, a possibility of connection was too great. Were they reformed, little could be done to save the universe. All this Baba knew. And yet she still gambled it in a curious attempt to self preserve. Perhaps she too was curious to Buu's journey. To see from inside the eye of the storm itself, how it would all unfold. Perhaps.
The Majin stood, hunched and slouched in a thrown posture. Wretched and pitiable was his posture and wickedness was in his eyes. But it was not a welcome hatred. It was not an emotion, fallen back upon in steadfast use. This was something new for him. Some kind of different feeling. He was a child thrown into the harsh reality of the world, trying to surface for air. His anger was not something that could be controlled, nor deterred.
Previously he would have jumped into this opportunity in a mock of all. He would have caused great fires rising and roaring through the streets, consuming flesh and mind and bone. He would have ruled over the universe until noises quieted, the pulse of life ran out and the planets went dark. Until the magic was lost. And then, the child he was, Buu would fall into a despair unheeded and unaccounted for. A miserable end to a miserable life.
That was all now changed, in a twist of irony to save his being. He would no longer take that path of light slowly burning out of reckless insanity. No, now he was a focused being. One who would still get the goal he wanted and deserved. The death of the Saiyan Goku at his hands.
Buu's existence was from the start, doomed. But he was not aware of such things, devised by old magicians and vagabonds alike; huddled together in the forgotten times by the waning lights of petty revenge. Were their efforts any the nobler, perchance it was they would be remembered. But he had no master now. No Bibidi or Babidi to tell him what to do as a mindless tool time once crafted.
The Majin and the witch stepped forward, peering upon the horizon. On it was a dot of land, a speck of possible intelligence. Upon Kid Buu's death, the Saiyan Goku had taken in upon him to rid the world of all that was Buu. The Dragon Balls, mystical devices that could grant wishes, were used on the populace of earth. For every being surely remembered Buu and his constant horror. No other being had ever destroyed the earth, nor killed all but one of its inhabitants. The balls were used in haste to eliminate every person's memory of Buu. So that now, were he to enter into a town, not a person but Goku himself would recognize him.
And so the two did. An odd sight it was, for it was remembered by the town elders for generations to come. A strange pink being, resolute in despair, and a small pink haired woman on a shining ball. At first no one really believed their eyes. Sights like this were but fables, tales of old. Quiet came upon the little village, a blanket of foreboding.
Buu walked forward. His posture remained defeated, hateful. But no one dared stop him nor question him. Strange beings were there to see and look on at. Not to trifle with. The creed of the town had sustained it for a good deal of years; don't stick your nose into business that isn't yours. So they didn't.
Buu passed the streets in dead silence. Baba followed, bored and irritated, though not a word rose from her. Suddenly, Buu stopped, causing Baba to run into him. Annoyed she raised her hat, the better to see him with.
"Hey!? What are ya doing?" Baba asked, piercing the silence for a moment.
Buu did not answer. His eyes shone with lust and craving. His mouth was agape, saliva beginning to form about. For in Buu's presence was a shop. Dirty and beaten was its sign, but Baba could clearly read it, 'BAKERY'. Drifting out from inside was the sweet smell of fresh dough and of sugar and other sweets. And it held its alluring grasp over Buu. For even in his new damaged mentality, chocolate was king.
He marched inside, smashing through the windowed door. The man working inside jumped back, aghast at his new customer. He squinted, as if not believing his eyes. Finally sure that the ''thing'' in front of him was real, he opened his mouth, "H-h-hello. W-what'll you have?"
Buu stared about. Cakes, pies, and assorted chocolates decorated the walls. "All," he said, simply.
The man's head jerked back, not understanding, "What was that?"
Buu turned to face the man behind the glass counter. The look on his face was of fervent hate and impatience. "Buu want all of it."
The man trembled again, "Uuhhh… that's a lot of money… You're gonna have to pay me f-first."
Buu huffed, ignoring him. He stretched his arms out, and shot through the glass counter ahead. Gingerly, he picked up a cake and pulled it out.
"Hey! You vandal! You're gonna have to pay for that!" screamed the store owner again, to no avail.
In a flurry, Buu swiped every sweet treat in the store. His arms were piled high with it all.
"Are ya listening to me!? I said you gotta pay for that stuff!"
Buu exhaled with his chin up in triumph. He began walking, to leave the store and enjoy his prize.
"I'll call the cops! Get back here you thief!"
The store owner rushed Buu who, in triumph, did not turn to face him. He had his heart's desire; now it was time to leave. The babbling of a worthless being was not his trouble now. But the store owner did not see it this way. He saw a vandal taking his hard earned goods from him. And that was too much to sit back and watch.
The man let out a yell and grabbed a nearby broom. With fury, he rushed at Buu and struck him. Buu lurched forward and stopped walking.
Panting, the man shout out again, "N-now… are ya… are you gonna pay for that or not? I said I'll call the cops, and I–"
In mid-sentence, he stopped. Buu had turned around, head only to face the man. His lips trembling, the store owner stepped back. This show of insanity was too much. With a growl, Buu brought his antenna up and shot a bright pink beam at the man. With a scream, he was reduced to naught but chocolate, hovering in mid air.
Buu did not smile at this. He did not take joy like before. In stead he had a look of curiosity on his face. A child in a candy store, so to speak. But before the man chocolate fell to the ground, Buu made a swift gesture with his tongue. A flash of bright blue sped by, as he extended his tongue to the chocolate. Quickly, he retracted, and ate. It was still good.
It was the first sweet thing Buu had taken part in for a long time.
The duo left as quickly as they came. Throughout this, not a word was heard from the townfolk. Later on, they would wonder what happened to the bakery store owner, the beloved man who had run that shop for so many years. While he was never seen again, the people ne'er gave up hope of his survival. A legend began to circulate of the Baker and the pink man… a story which, to this day remains a favorite of the elders. A most strange story, which visitors found to be both curious and outlandish. A story too far out there to be ever considered real.
Buu and Baba continued on until reaching a small gorge, sprouting out from the newly ventured rocks and rust. There, the two sat down, finally taking a break. Buu took this as a sign to waste into his rewards. Baba sat, with contempt, watching. As the sun set about, she finally opened her mouth:
"Hey, where are ya even taking us? I'm not just gonna do this with you for the rest of my life. You know I have better things to do than just wander the desert! There's paying customers out there!"
With a small growl, sugar splattered upon his face, Buu looked up at Baba. Without another thought, he picked up a cake and hit her with it, square in the face. She fell of her ball, still mumbling nags as she went. Were an onlooker watching from afar, this exchange would be unexpected, even comical. For at this moment, not even Buu thought of destroying the world. When the world was good, it was good, and even vengeful creatures such as Buu could not always think of destruction. Sometimes there was peace. Sometimes there was chocolate. Which, here, was king after all.