Beams of light swatted left and right, flashing different exuberant colors to attract the attention of a wayward observer and inspire instant regret of not being nestled into the massive, round lump of metal that the beautiful dancing lights were portraying differently during the somber dusk time. While the dancing lights relayed a festive mood, the sound that came from the excitable audience seated throughout would have sealed that impression onto a stone tablet without the use of a hammer.

"Now, how about that, Con-san? Yamcha, who is becoming a mainstay attraction here at All-Stars games, just made another statement with bat in hand. If anyone ever had any hopes of catching the ball swatted away by Titans' own Yamcha, the universal baseball ace himself said "Good luck, hope you can jump all the way into space"!" an overly enthusiastic baseball announcer who looked like he had a few shots before an entire evening of public speaking but actually hadn't and was only high on the festive mood of an outstanding All-Stars game began blabbering while forgetting to breathe. This nasty habit colored the man's chubby cheeks red and the tips of his bushy stache began whiffing to the sides as if trying to clasp a mouthful of air to brush it into the announcer's mouth.

"He sure did, Pop-san. Yamcha from the West City Titans is having his best game and still breaking records. Most baseball superstars indulge in All-Stars games and take pride in the illustrious careers and the legacy of the sport they're leaving behind when they're about to retire. Yamcha is still breaking countless records, all those he himself set earlier this year, all on the same night! I don't believe in the devil, but if it exists, I'm not sure how many souls Yamcha had to deliver in a wagon by the devil's doorstep for a performance this consistently good!" the secondary announcer, a tall and curly-haired middle-aged man with a vertically rectangular face decorated with a few warts conversed with his much shorter and rounder partner.

"Just a few years ago the very idea of a lone player covering all the positions for their team, whatever it needs to win, and performing consistently on a borderline superhuman level in each position, seemed impossible and I'd have spat my evening coffee into your face if you even suggested this idea to me. Then Yamcha broke into the scene. Let's go to our play-by-play wiz analyst Koten to hear some more technical mumbo jumbo we love him so much for!" Pop suggested with an averagely built man with round and curly white hair speaking in front of the camera while dragging a holographic board behind him he could sketch and scratch on.

"Thank you, guys at the announcement table, I'm here with my trusty board Seki-chan to run down some numbers of Yamcha-san's not just incredible, but downright impossible performance… Let's see here…" Like a possessed madman drawing cultist symbols on a white plaster wall with the blood of their freshest victim, Koten the baseball tech wiz began his passionate tirade. "Yamcha's got a ludicrous 1.0 BA, an 842 HR, 4200 career RBI, 4000 SLG, 1426 career SB, 1.7446 OPS, 727 career CG, an infinite ERA in every season he's ever played, 147 G, 35 GS, 7642 IP, 14 762 career strikeouts, 427 career SHOs, the average of 82 SVs per season and 7462 career SVs, 42 W average per season, and an absolutely bonkers 1.000 WHIP! All I'm saying is, can we dissect this human being for science and help us understand what makes him so good at baseball!? For the love of God, please!"

"Alright, I don't think our buddy Koten is alright at all," Pop chuckled uncomfortably after the camera switched back to him, dragging himself around in his chair in a desperate attempt to fill the air in which the statistician was meant to sing Yamcha's praises instead of advocating live human experimentation on live television, which was proven to be a no-go with sponsors, despite their publicly well-known rabid nature.

"This is why the station hired the lovely Kendi for those pesky diversity quotes, take it away, Kendi, for goodness' sake," Con cringed nervously before the camera switched to a ditzy, blonde in a red evening dress and curly, short, pink hair staring at the camera as if her entire life was unraveling and flashing before her eyes.

"Well… I've gotta say, that Yamcha guy sure is dreamy…" Kendi spoke on her area of expertise as a diversity hire and, based on the relieved expressions of Pop and Con back at the announcement table, she may have just saved the show.

"And there you have it, Con. I don't think I can put it any better than that," Pop turned to his lifetime commentating partner.

"I don't think you'd want to. You're already in enough hot water with your wife as it is, Pop," the rectangular-chinned commentator jested, causing laughter to break out on the announcement table before the attention switched to the break-time dancers doing what they did best in the square.

"Wow, Yamcha-kun, that was so impressive! I'm not sure what any of those numbers they listed mean, but some guys doing heated stats debates said that you were an all-time greatest baseball player and it's not even close… Though they also claimed you were a goat, so they might have had a few too many beers," Pearl wrapped her arms and pressed her body against Yamcha's firm and muscular hand.

"Hmm…" Yamcha could only hum in response. "You know, sometimes I'd like it if some of my pals would also play baseball."

"Like Krillin-san and Goku-san…?" Pearl wondered. "How so? That's so random. What's gotten into you, Yamcha-kun?"

"It's just that… All those stats that those statisticians listed, those were just my playing stats. When I'm playing baseball, I can never really cut loose. I've always got to compete with the human limits because otherwise, it won't be any fun. Restraining myself to the absolute limit and making sure my performance doesn't seem superhuman is just about the only entertainment I get anymore…" Yamcha sighed.

"You sound so blue, Yamcha-kun. You should go on a vacation, do something fun. How about it, can we go, just the two of us?" Peal suggested. "Oh, I know… You know Bulma from Capsule Corps, right? Can't you get us tickets to go to space and see the stars?"

"Space, huh?" Yamcha looked up into the sky. "There's all sorts of entertainment out there. Some of the most fun playing baseball I've ever had was in the Galactic League."

"Yamcha-kun, I'm so glad that you're not mad at me anymore. Last evening I thought I had blown it. If you'd have flunked your game today, I'd have known it was because of me and I'd have been so wistful!" Pearl pulled herself off to try to catch Yamcha's eyes with the baseball ace glancing at her with a warm smirk once before pulling his eyes away to look onward, as a tease.

"Mad? What about?" Yamcha smirked. If his look was any indication, this man was never mad a day in his life.

"Don't lie to me, please, Yamcha-kun. I know it hit you hard when I accidentally let it slip yesterday evening. I saw the look on your face. If it would have ruined things between us, it would have been the best thing in my life that I'd have ruined for myself. I'd have never forgotten myself!" Pearl pleaded with Yamcha to confront that scene straight and not dance around the subject.

"No, you were right, Pearl," Yamcha closed his eyes and breathed in deep, inflating his muscular chest to its limit. "Today's game only confirmed it for me. Chayote and Bulma kept hassling me about this all the time, but they were being mean-spirited about it and mocked me for playing baseball with ordinary pro athletes for money and fame and pretending to be their equal. When you said it, it was like a cold shower wake-up call. And… I needed it. Really. Who could have known that all I ever needed was someone asking me why was I pretending to be so lame when my free-time life and the real me were so awesome?"

"Still, it was a mean thing to say," Pearl couldn't forgive herself. "I would really like you to understand that I said it when I was stupefied by all those incredible things you've told me about. Being able to fly around the world in no time at all, move planets and shake the world just by squinting really hard, like you're preparing for a loud fart. Fending off aliens, demons, and all sorts of baddies daily and never holding on to your personal life of dating supermodel-grade cuties. For Pete's sake, you used to date the most powerful woman in the world and rejected the most powerful military commander on Earth because you knew her growing up… When I measure up to that sort of standard, it makes me feel all sorts of things, insecure but shocked most of all. Baseball is stupid, no woman ever dates a baseball player for how good they are at whacking a ball or running through a field. Knowing how you truly are, it made me conflicted about why you'd settle for plain old me and why you'd settle for doing something as lame as baseball."

"Honestly, you're being too hard, Pearl. On yourself, and on baseball," Yamcha laughed out, awkwardly stroking the back of his head. "But I heard you loud and clear yesterday, and I feel your sentiment even deeper now. I guess being constantly overshadowed by everyone, first–Goku, then Chayote, Tenshinhan, Piccolo, Vegeta, and even Krillin… It all made me feel insecure and inadequate myself back when. I just wanted a space where I could be the ace, where I would be untouchable, the very best. Baseball gave me that. Even if it's because nobody else wants to play it, I was okay with being the very best at baseball if it meant being everything I wanted to be at martial arts."

"But you changed, haven't you? Just now, earlier, you said that you'd like Goku-san and Krillin-san to play baseball too, just so you can play together and you can do your best for once. If you're feeling competitive and alive again, why not make it at martial arts, something they're the best at?" Pearl wondered. "I've never seen you compete in martial arts, but I'd love to one day. There's all this buzz about the Papaya Island re-opening and this massive martial arts competition taking place on it. Maybe you guys can all throw down during that event?"

"The World Martial Arts Tournament, huh?" Yamcha laughed out before glaring up into the evening stars. "Sure brings up memories… Though it's alarming that even a normie like you has heard of the re-opening. Back in the day, it used to be a very secretive affair that only the top martial arts schools in the world knew about and only the locals and the friends of the competitors attended."

"I'll be cheering for you, Yamcha-kun!" Pearl shot her fist up into the air with an ecstatic expression meant to hype up her boyfriend.

"Hmm… Pearl," Yamcha said while still staring up at the colorful nebulae and cosmic shrouds over his head reflected in the evening sky.

"Yes, Yamcha-kun?" Pearl stopped and let Yamcha take her hands and pull her closer to him.

"How about we go on a little vacation as soon as possible?" Yamcha suggested out of the blue.

"Vacation?" Pearl leaned her head to the side, looking a bit stumped about where this all came from.

"Just you and me. Let's go to space. If you want to be a part of my life, and everything that it entails, let's go together. I'll train and help everyone collect the Ultimate Dragon Balls and we'll visit all kinds of different planets and see so many things. When all is said and done, you'll be able to say that you helped save the Earth. You needn't worry, I'll protect you if we ever get into trouble," Yamcha wouldn't stop trying to sell the idea.

"Us together? To space? Just like Lazuli and Krillin?" Pearl wondered. "Yeah, let's go!" she nodded with enthusiasm, losing herself in the cheer of the moment with a hearty chuckle.

"Alright. We'll need to visit Bulma in the morning and ask for a Dragon Radar able to track the Ultimate Dragon Balls. There's no way that we're the only ones headed off to space. I wonder who else left… Tenshinhan must be tied up with his students. I can sense Goku's energy on Earth. If he hasn't left yet, he probably left it to the others this time," Yamcha wouldn't stop daydreaming, imagining everyone hard at work and dreading the amount of insane training they'll be putting themselves through while Yamcha would wait for the next morning. "Oh, man… I don't think I can wait until the next morning. Let's go visit Bulma right now!"

"You're so excited, Yamcha-kun. It's like you're truly alive right now, I love seeing you like this," Pearl wrapped herself around Yamcha's arm and pressed her head to his shoulder. "Let's go," she nodded.

Yamcha searched for Bulma's energy, which in the massive hive of small Ki wasn't easy to find. Usually, he'd have searched for Vegeta's or Trunks' Ki instead, since their energy signatures were much bigger than Bulma's. Now he had to struggle with the scraps.

"What's the matter, Yamcha-kun? Why won't you just whoosh us to Capsule Corps in an instant?" Pearl wondered with troubled eyes.

"Man, it's no use! I just can't pick out her signature. West City is too massive, she's hiding in all the different miniature Ki specks without even trying. Would it kill her to lift some weights already?" Yamcha grumbled. "I guess we'll have to fly there. It's not too far from here. With my speed, it should barely take a second."

"Hmm… Flying is really romantic and all but… It'll be freezing up there and I won't be able to breathe with the air sifting through so fast," Pearl's knees buckled with worry.

"Heh, I'll fly lower and slower while we hold hands, just like in superhero movies, okay?" Yamcha put up his duke in front of him, encouraging his girlfriend to take a risk and trust him.

"M'kay…" Pearl rolled her eyes, still looking uncertain about flying with Yamcha so fired up.

"So… You want me to rent you a spaceship with a radar able to track the Ultimate Dragon Balls, huh?" Bulma mumbled while tinkering with something and wearing a cigarette behind her right ear. It was odd to see the genius all greased up with dirty shirt sleeves rolled back and hard at work during such a pretty weekend evening, but the Capsule Corps president embodied the idea that hustlers never sleep.

"Rent? Can't you just give us one? You won't stop bragging about how successful your space tourism program is. Surely you can spare a single spaceship," Yamcha didn't want to let up. While he could certainly afford to be a part of Bulma's luxurious space tourism program, he hated the idea of being raked out of his hard-earned Zeni solely because the two still felt bitter about their long-over breakup. At least it seemed like Bulma still did, despite being happily married. Did she really just want Yamcha to be miserable until the end of his days?

"I suppose I could," Bulma shrugged. "But my charitable disposition and kind heart don't exactly go unnoticed by our board members. All the spaceships I hand out to one of you freeloaders only for them to end up wrecked somewhere in deep space affect our profits. If I get booted out from Capsule Corps and your charitable money bag runs dry, what will you do then, I wonder…"

"Please, Bulma-san… I'm not exactly sure how much one spaceship costs, but all those baseball aficionados think Yamcha-kun is a big deal. Are you sure you wouldn't benefit from having some kind of mutually beneficial promotion deal? Maybe Yamcha-kun could wear Capsule Corps merchandise or shoot some ads?" Pearl winced, trying to appeal to Bulma's alleged kind heart. Yamcha sighed and groaned, scoping this out for the mistake it was. Though Bulma seemed intrigued.

"Hmm… Baseball's a bit too niche for my interests, but… If you could fight in the upcoming World Martial Arts Tournament with the Capsule Corps logo on your uniform, instead of the Turtle School's, we could strike a deal for a spaceship with an Ultimate Dragon Ball radar right now," Bulma stroked her hands and extended them crossed for a double handshake.

"Ugh… I guess this is as good as we'll get," Yamcha groaned out. "Fine…"

Pearl looked a bit confused about Yamcha's attitude, wondering if perhaps she had done something wrong while Bulma took the initiative and shook both their hands. After the Faustian bargain was done, the engineering prodigy disappeared into a pile of junk and pulled out a briefcase full of capsules. After picking one out from a half-empty briefcase, she handed it to Yamcha.

"There you go, one spaceship for two to five people with an Ultimate Dragon Ball radar!" she declared with a smirk of a she-devil who just scored some honey-laced souls. "And this… Is the uniform I'll be expecting you to wear when you fight in public from now on," she handed Yamcha another capsule.

"W-Wait… You already had both the uniform and the spaceship ready to go?" Yamcha's jaw dropped as the martial artist felt his face breaking some nervous sweat just now, realizing he might have made some kind of mistake by falling for some trap like the gullible oaf he was.

"Yeah, do you really think you're the first one to take off to look for the Ultimate Dragon Balls?" Bulma leaned her head to the side as if Yamcha just asked her something absolutely ridiculous and she couldn't believe the stupidity of that question. "Heck, Vegeta and Trunks took off at the start of this week. They'd have taken off earlier if I hadn't made Vegeta stay until after Krillin's wedding for everything he put his family through with his disappearing and brainwashing act."

"I see," Yamcha scratched his right eyelid, accepting Bulma's gifts reservedly. "Well then, with everyone looking for the Ultimate Dragon Balls all at once, they'll be back on Earth in no time."

"I hope so," Bulma pointed out with a cheeky wink and a long, oval drag of her lips while pinching her cigarette with her fingers. "If they're not–the entire planet goes boom, remember?"

"W-Wait… So that's what you meant by that whole "save the Earth" routine!?" Pearl freaked out.

"Wait, you didn't tell her about that?" Bulma gave Yamcha some flack.

"Argh! Not yet, there's just so much to explain all at once and everything just feels like such a fundamental fact of our life that I can't remember what I clued Pearl in on and what I forgot to explain!" Yamcha began furiously scratching his head, scolding himself. "In any case, Pearl-chan, if we are in space when the Earth blows up–we'll be spared from dying, so… No worries."

"Excuse me!? Actually, it's a whole lot of worries!" Bulma growled like a roaring lawnmower, grabbing and pulling on Yamcha's ear to drag his silly goose head in for a headlock so she could pound it well for being so numb-skulled. "For your information, if the Earth blows up–the Earth's Dragon Balls will be gone too! You won't be able to restore the planet anymore, so I suggest you two lovebirds don't slack off and hoot too much!"

At the end of the day, what was meant to be a romantic training vacation may have ended up being a far more nerve-racking and risky experience for both lovey-dovey travelers.