The sun had already climbed halfway into the sky when a sharp groan broke the silence of Capsule Corp's west wing.
"Ugh… what time is it?" Mori grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His hair, longer now and swept just past his neck, was a mess. He blinked as light from the tall lab windows stung his vision. Then it hit him. The date.
"Wait… wait—" Mori shot upright, blankets flying off the bed. He looked at the calendar pinned lazily to the wall. May 7th.
"SON OF A—TODAY'S THE TOURNAMENT!"
He scrambled into his clothes, nearly tripping on his own pants leg. His shirt clung to his damp back as he bolted down the hall and into the living room. Dr. Briefs looked up from the newspaper, pipe tucked between his lips, while Mrs. Briefs hummed over breakfast.
"Morning, sweetie," she chirped. "Oh my, in a rush again?"
"I overslept!" Mori snapped, half-panicked. "I should've left yesterday with Bulma! But noooo, I wanted an extra day of training!"
Dr. Briefs chuckled. "That's what happens when you burn midnight oil and try to race the sun."
"Good luck, dear!" Mrs. Briefs called as Mori grabbed a piece of toast from the counter and ran to the front door.
"Thanks! I'll win something!" he shouted behind him, mouth full, as he flung the door open.
Then he stopped mid-stride.
"Papaya Island's not connected to land…"
His eye twitched.
"GOD—fine. Guess I'm flying."
Mori leapt into the air, ki flaring in a flash of blue-white as he launched into the sky. He closed his eyes briefly, focusing on Bulma's ki from the day before. It wasn't hard to find—it pulsed like a familiar beacon across the ocean.
"Five minutes," he whispered. "Just five…"
The wind screamed past him as he cut through clouds like a rocket. In no time, the vibrant greenery and beaches of Papaya Island came into view. A massive crowd had already gathered outside the tournament gates, buzzing with excitement.
Near the entrance, he spotted them—Bulma in her usual outfit, Goku in his orange gi, and a few unfamiliar faces gathered around.
A grin tugged at Mori's lips.
"About time I made an entrance."
He tilted his body, dropped into a free fall, and flipped—once, twice, thrice—twirling like a leaf before landing upright in front of them with a small gust of wind.
"Show-off," Bulma muttered with a smirk.
Krillin sweatdropped. "Does he always do that?"
Yamcha rolled his eyes. "Every time."
Master Roshi stroked his beard. "Oh…"
Goku laughed. "You're the same as always."
Mori straightened, blue-white eyes locking with Goku's dark ones.
Something inside him stirred again—an itch. A pulse. Like a beat waiting to be answered.
Goku's stance shifted almost instinctively.
For a second, they just stared at each other. The air around them started to hum.
A wisp of ki bled from their feet. Goku's onyx eyes shimmered. Mori's glow intensified.
It was just like three years ago.
And then—SMACK.
"Ow!"
Bulma's hand left the back of Mori's head. "Snap out of it, dumbass! Go register before you start a whole fight right here."
Goku chuckled. "Guess we got carried away again."
Mori grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. "Fine, fine. I'm going…"
It didn't take long for him to sign in. When he returned, the others had gathered just outside the competitor entrance.
Bulma waved him over. "Alright gang, formal intro time."
She pointed around the group.
"This is Mori—my little brother."
"Hey," Mori waved nonchalantly, still eyeing Goku now and then.
Bulma pointed to a blonde woman in a qipao. "That's Launch. She's got a… condition. You'll see."
Launch waved sweetly. "Hi there!"
"Pig's Oolong. Don't mind him."
"Rude," Oolong grumbled.
"The perv with the beard is Master Roshi."
Roshi coughed. "I prefer martial arts master—"
"That's Krillin—short, bald, but strong. Turtle—he's just… Turtle. The tall guy is Yamcha, and the floating cat's Puar."
Everyone gave a friendly wave.
Mori returned it, barely lifting a hand. "Sup."
He turned toward Goku again. "I see you've gotten stronger, Goku. Much stronger at that."
Goku smirked. "I can say the same to you. You weren't slacking off either, huh?"
They circled one another, tension building again.
Then—*BAM!*—they both threw a punch. The clash echoed.
"Whoa!" Krillin blinked.
Then CRACK—both boys threw a kick. Another collision.
They leapt back simultaneously, both grinning ear to ear.
"Can't wait for the actual fight," Mori said.
"Me neither!" Goku laughed.
DING DING DING.
A loud speaker echoed across the courtyard.
"Attention fighters! All participants, please report to the tournament arena for the preliminary matches. We will begin shortly."
Mori's gaze lingered on Goku before nodding. "Let's go."
As they all began walking toward the inner halls, Mori stayed near the back, trailing slightly behind the others.
A familiar warmth buzzed in his chest.
This time… there wouldn't be any interruptions.
"ah the 22nd tournament... its nice"