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Mr. Satan had dealt with many terrifying things in his life—perfect cell, Majin Buu, and even the wrath of an angry crowd when they thought he wasn’t the hero he claimed to be. But nothing quite prepared him for the sight that greeted him when Buu stepped onto his estate that sunny afternoon, his arm draped over a slender, gray-skinned figure.

"Mr. Satan!" Buu’s booming voice echoed across the perfectly manicured lawn. The wide grin on his face was unsettling, more sinister than jovial, as if he delighted in everyone else's discomfort. "We’ve come to pay you a *visit*."

Mr. Satan froze, mid-sip of his iced tea. “B-Buu?” He stammered, barely managing to set the glass down without shattering it. “What’s going on, buddy? I thought we were—uh, y’know—keeping things low-key these days!”

Beside Buu stood Majin Poka, her dark gray skin and light gray eyes contrasting starkly with her simple, elegant black dress. She seemed timid, her fingers nervously clutching the hem of her dress, but there was something about her that unnerved Mr. Satan. Maybe it was the faint air of listlessness in her posture. Or maybe—just maybe—it was how much she reminded him of that version of Buu.

“Don’t look so nervous, old friend.” Buu’s voice took on a teasing lilt as he sauntered forward, pulling Poka with him. “This is Poka. She’s my wife-to-be, and I’ve decided that you’ll help me host the wedding right here, at your estate.”

“W-w-wife?” Mr. Satan sputtered, almost choking on his words. His eyes darted to Poka, who offered a small, shy smile but avoided his gaze. "H-h-hold on, Buu! Marriage? Here? Are you sure this is a good idea?"

Buu’s smile widened. “Of course I’m sure. And why wouldn’t it be a good idea? This place has everything—a big garden, luxury accommodations, and you to make sure everything goes perfectly.”

Mr. Satan laughed nervously, but his gaze lingered on Poka. The way she stood silently, almost like she was fading into the background, sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t shake the image of Evil Buu, the gray version of his friend, who had no hesitation in killing that hunter all those years ago.

"Um, Buu?" he started cautiously. "She’s—uh—real nice, but... she kinda reminds me of... y’know... that gray guy. From back then. You remember him, don’t you? The one who... uh, ate you?"

Buu threw his head back in a loud, almost mocking laugh. “Of course I remember! What a glorious moment that was, don’t you think?”

Poka blinked up at him, puzzled, while Mr. Satan flinched.

Buu’s red eyes glinted with amusement as he leaned closer to the Earthling, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re not wrong, Satan. She’s exactly like I was back then—cold, calculating, and brimming with untapped power.”

Poka looked alarmed. “I-I’m not like that,” she muttered, casting a quick glance at Mr. Satan. “Am I?”

Buu smirked, ignoring her protests. “Oh, don’t be modest, my dear. You’re every bit as terrifying as I was—except...” He leaned back, crossing his arms and smiling smugly. “...you never absorbed anyone to boost your strength, did you? That makes you much safer. Right, Satan? You should feel very safe.”

Mr. Satan gulped, sweat beading on his forehead. “Y-y-yeah, sure. Safe. Totally safe.”

Buu chuckled and patted his trembling friend on the back with enough force to make him stumble. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want you to be nervous around my bride-to-be. That would be rude, don’t you think?”

“R-right,” Mr. Satan stammered, straightening his back. “Of course. She’s, uh, lovely! Congratulations to you both!”

Poka shifted uncomfortably, trying to shrink into herself. “I’m sorry if I scare you,” she said quietly, her voice soft but genuine. “I don’t mean to.”

Her words caught Mr. Satan off guard. For the first time, he saw the subtle cracks in her demeanor—the nervous fidgeting, the hesitant tone. Despite her eerie resemblance to Gray Buu, she wasn’t the same. Maybe she wasn’t dangerous after all... or maybe she just hadn’t *snapped* yet.

Buu grinned, clearly pleased. “See? She’s harmless. Now, about the wedding... We’ll keep it simple, just a few hundred guests, lots of food—especially desserts, of course—and you’ll make sure everything runs smoothly. Got it?”

Mr. Satan forced a wide grin. “S-sounds great, buddy! I’ll start, uh, making arrangements right away.”

Buu clapped his hands together, the sound reverberating like a thunderclap. “Wonderful! I knew I could count on you.”

As the couple turned to leave, Poka glanced back at Mr. Satan, her light gray eyes lingering on his. “Thank you,” she whispered, offering a shy smile before catching up to Buu.

Mr. Satan watched them go, his knees weak and his heart racing. “Safe,” he muttered to himself. “Totally safe... Yeah, sure.”

Buu’s laughter echoed through the estate as the pair disappeared into the distance, leaving Mr. Satan wondering what kind of chaos he’d just signed up for.

Thunder roared outside the small, dimly lit shelter they had taken refuge in. Rain lashed against the windows, and the occasional flash of lightning illuminated the room in stark, white light. Poka sat curled on the edge of the couch, her knees drawn to her chest. Her dark gray skin seemed even paler under the fleeting bursts of light, her light gray eyes fixed nervously on the storm.

Buu stood near the window, his towering form almost blending with the shadows. He watched the storm as if it were an insignificant spectacle, completely unfazed. The sharp crack of thunder shook the building again, and Poka flinched, pressing her forehead to her knees.

“You’re acting like you’ve never heard a little thunder before,” Buu teased, turning his gaze toward her. His deep, smooth voice carried a note of amusement, but it softened when he noticed the way her shoulders tensed. “Oh, come on. It’s not like it’s going to get you.”

Poka glanced up at him, her expression wavering between embarrassment and hesitation. “It’s not that simple,” she said quietly. “It reminds me of... things I don’t want to remember.”

His smirk faded, replaced by a more thoughtful expression. Slowly, he walked over, his footsteps deliberate but unthreatening. He crouched down in front of her, his crimson eyes glowing softly in the dark. “Things?” he asked, his tone still teasing but laced with genuine curiosity. “What kind of things?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Buu tilted his head, studying her intently. Then, with a sly grin, he stood to his full height. “Fine. You don’t have to talk about it. But sitting there curled up like some frightened little kitten isn’t going to help, either.”

Before Poka could protest, Buu scooped her up effortlessly, cradling her in his arms as if she weighed nothing. She gasped, her tentacles twitching as she instinctively clung to his chest. “What are you doing?” she demanded, her cheeks flushing.

“Taking charge,” he replied smugly. He settled onto the couch, leaning back with her still in his arms. She squirmed slightly but gave up when she realized how securely he held her. “You need someone to remind you that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Poka sighed, but her body began to relax against him, the steady rise and fall of his chest oddly comforting. “You’re so bossy,” she muttered.

Buu chuckled, a deep, warm sound that seemed to reverberate through his chest. “And you’re too quiet for your own good,” he countered. “But that’s why I’m here—to balance things out.”

For a while, they sat in silence, the storm outside forgotten. Poka closed her eyes, her head resting against his shoulder. She hated to admit it, but in moments like these, Buu’s confidence and commanding presence made her feel safe. No matter how much he teased or smirked, she knew he cared.

As she began to drift off, Buu glanced down at her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “See?” he murmured. “Told you there was nothing to worry about.”

Poka didn’t reply. She was already asleep.

***

Poka stirred slowly, warmth pressing against her from all sides. The steady rise and fall of Buu’s chest beneath her head reminded her of where she was. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the faint light filtering through the window. The storm had passed, leaving the sky gray and damp with mist.

She moved slightly, only to feel Buu’s arm tighten around her. “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was still thick with sleep, yet his grip was firm.

Poka sighed, nestling her head back down against him. “Nowhere.”

Buu smirked, eyes still closed. “Good answer.”

The weight of his arm was heavy but not suffocating—protective, like an anchor that kept her grounded. She could hear the faint thrum of his energy beneath his skin, strong and unwavering even at rest.

“You stayed up, didn’t you?” she asked after a moment, tracing an absent-minded circle against his shoulder.

Buu finally cracked an eye open, looking down at her lazily. “What if I did?”

She frowned slightly. “You need sleep, too.”

“I don’t need anything.” He yawned, stretching just enough to shift their positions slightly before settling back in. “Besides, someone had to keep watch.”

Poka gave him a small, skeptical look. “Keep watch? Against what? The rain?”

Buu chuckled, tilting his head smugly. “I don’t trust anything. The weather, the ground, the air. You should know that by now.”

Poka sighed, but she understood. He was always aware—always calculating. It was just in his nature. Even when he teased her, there was a sharpness beneath his words, an ever-present sense of control.

Still, it wasn’t just about caution. She knew Buu had stayed awake for her sake.

She didn’t call him out on it, though. Instead, she let herself settle against him again. His warmth, his strength—it was something steady. Something constant.

“You act like you’re the oldest,” she murmured after a while.

Buu gave a smug hum. “That’s because I am.”

“No, you’re not,” she argued, though her voice lacked any real fight. “We’re the same.”

He huffed, his deep laughter rumbling in his chest. “You say that, but look at you—small, quiet, curled up on me.” He gave her a light squeeze, almost playfully. “You like that I take care of you.”

Poka frowned, lifting her head slightly to glare at him. “I do not.”

Buu simply stared at her, his smirk growing.

“…Okay. Maybe a little.”

His victorious grin was instant. “Knew it.”

Poka groaned and buried her face against him again, refusing to let him see her flustered expression.

Buu’s hand found the back of her head, his fingers idly brushing over her twin-tail tentacles. “It’s natural,” he mused, voice quieter now. “You act soft, so I act strong. You hesitate, so I lead.” His grip firmed just slightly. “That’s how we balance.”

Poka closed her eyes.

He was right. She did like it—how he acted so assured, how he took charge without hesitation. But what she liked most was that, even in his confidence, he still made room for her.

She wasn’t just something he protected—she was something he wanted close.

And so, she stayed.

The hot spring’s mist curled around them, soft and ethereal, carrying the faint scent of minerals and damp stone. Moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a shimmering glow on the water’s surface. It was quiet, save for the occasional ripple breaking the stillness.

Majin Poka sank deeper into the warmth, her light gray eyes drifting shut as the tension in her body melted away. But the moment of relaxation was short-lived—because he was there too.

Majin Buu.

She had barely been able to look at him when he first stepped into the spring, and now, as she risked a quick glance, she wished she had more self-control. The mist framed his tall, muscular figure like something out of a dream. His pink skin, sleek and smooth, glistened with moisture, each defined muscle sculpted by the glow of the lanterns hanging nearby. His broad shoulders and powerful chest rose and fell steadily, the steam curling around him as if enchanted by his presence.

He was breathtaking. A being of raw power and elegance, his beauty amplified by the tranquil setting. And he knew it.

Poka’s face burned hotter than the spring itself, and she quickly averted her gaze, heart pounding.

Buu, who had been observing her in amusement, smirked. “You keep sneaking glances at me, Poka.” His voice was rich and smooth, laced with quiet amusement. He stretched his arms behind his head, subtly flexing, knowing exactly what he was doing to her. “Can’t blame you, though. I look divine in this light, don’t I?”

Her breath hitched. She opened her mouth to protest but only managed a flustered squeak, shrinking further into the water. “D-Don’t flatter yourself…” she mumbled, though her voice lacked conviction.

He chuckled, the deep, velvety sound sending shivers down her spine. Slowly, he moved closer, the water rippling around him. When he stopped in front of her, she was forced to look up at him. His red eyes gleamed with mischief, but there was something softer beneath the playfulness—something warm.

“Relax, Poka,” he murmured, voice lower now, almost soothing. “You act like I’m going to eat you.”

Her cheeks burned at the wording, and his smirk widened.

The intimacy of the moment was unbearable. The way the steam wrapped around them, the closeness of his body, the deep hum of his voice—it was too much. She turned her head sharply, forcing herself to focus on the water, on anything but him.

Buu, however, was having far too much fun. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he mused. Then, before she could react, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over her damp skin. “But I’d rather you look at me.”

Poka swallowed hard. Her fingers curled against the rock she was sitting on, her mind scrambling for an escape, but there was none. His presence was overwhelming, inescapable. And yet, despite her embarrassment, she didn’t move away.

The moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and crackling tension. The steam swirled lazily, the only witness to the quiet battle between her flustered composure and his relentless teasing.

Finally, Buu chuckled again, pulling back just enough to give her a break. “Fine, I’ll let you recover. For now.”

She let out a shaky breath, glaring half-heartedly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re adorable,” he countered, his smirk turning into something softer. Then, as if to prove a point, he reached out, cupping a handful of warm water before letting it cascade over her shoulder. The unexpected touch made her shiver.

She hated how easily he unraveled her.

And worse?

He knew it.

***

The night deepened, the moon now high above the misty hot spring. Poka’s heart still pounded from Buu’s teasing, but now she had an entirely new problem—he had just demanded a massage.

She hesitated, hands hovering awkwardly above his shoulders as he sat in front of her, his back broad and glistening with moisture. The heat of the spring only made him look even more magnificent, every muscle on his body defined, powerful, and perfect.

“Quit stalling,” Buu murmured lazily, tilting his head slightly as if waiting for her to obey. “You’re the one who made me come out here in the first place. Consider this payment.”

She had invited him, but she never imagined things would end up like this. Swallowing, she finally placed her hands on his shoulders. His skin was hot and smooth beneath her fingertips, and she could feel the sheer power humming beneath his relaxed form. He barely needed to flex for his muscles to stand out—he was effortlessly perfect.

Poka, on the other hand…

Her hands faltered slightly as a creeping self-consciousness settled in. Compared to him, she felt so plain.

“Harder,” he instructed, snapping her out of her thoughts.

She frowned and pressed harder, kneading her fingers into his shoulders. He let out a low hum of satisfaction, and for a brief moment, she felt a small sense of accomplishment—until her gaze drifted down to her own reflection in the water.

Her sullen gray skin, thin and wrinkled in some areas, lacked the smoothness of his. She had no curves to speak of, no noticeable muscle tone. Her chest was small, her frame almost frail-looking next to his imposing form.

Her fingers slowed.

Buu noticed immediately. “What’s with the weak grip?” he muttered. When she didn’t answer, he turned his head slightly, red eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated, then quietly asked, “Do you think my body is… unattractive?”

Buu blinked, clearly not expecting the question.

“I mean,” she continued, voice barely above a whisper, “I know I don’t look like the type of woman people admire. I’m not… curvy or... or strong like you. My skin isn’t smooth, it’s all dull and wrinkled. I just look—”

“Stop.”

His voice was firm, cutting through the misty air like a blade.

Before she could process it, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, forcing her to face him directly. She gasped, suddenly inches from his chest, the heat of his body radiating against hers.

His crimson eyes locked onto hers, unreadable but intense. “Say that again, and I’ll be pissed,” he warned. “You think I care about any of that?”

She bit her lip. “It’s just… next to you, I—”

He clicked his tongue, annoyed. “You’re comparing yourself to me? That’s stupid. Of course, you’re not built like me. But that doesn’t mean you’re ugly.” His hand moved from her wrist to her chin, tilting her face up slightly. “Your body is yours. It’s you. And I like you.”

Poka’s breath hitched. The sincerity in his voice made her heart ache.

Buu leaned in slightly, his tone dropping into something softer. “I like your gray skin. I like how small you are compared to me. I like the way your hands feel when you touch me.” His lips quirked into a faint smirk. “And if you think your chest is too small, that’s just your problem. I don’t care.”

Her entire face burned. She looked away, but he didn’t let go of her chin.

“You’re flustered again,” he teased, enjoying every second of her reaction. “Good. That means you’re actually listening.”

Poka swallowed hard, still struggling to believe his words. “…You really don’t think I look bad?”

Buu exhaled sharply through his nose, amused but exasperated. “I think you’re beautiful,” he said plainly, his smirk softening. “And if I have to keep telling you that, I will.”

She felt her heart tighten in her chest, overwhelmed with emotions she couldn’t quite name.

Then, before she could say anything, Buu suddenly turned his back to her again. “Now,” he commanded, “keep massaging. I’m still waiting.”

Poka let out a breathless laugh, warmth blooming in her chest as she placed her hands back on his shoulders.

Maybe, just maybe, she could believe him.

The air was warm, carrying the gentle scent of the ocean as waves lapped rhythmically against the shore. The evening sky was painted in hues of orange and lavender, the sun dipping below the horizon in a soft farewell. Poka stood barefoot at the water’s edge, the hem of her long dress fluttering with the breeze. She had been quiet most of the day, her light gray eyes fixed on the horizon as if the endless expanse of water held all the answers she sought.

Buu watched her from a short distance, his arms crossed as he leaned against a nearby rock. He had agreed to this trip reluctantly, finding the serene beach far too quiet for his liking. But watching Poka, so absorbed in her thoughts, he found himself intrigued.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind, or are we just going to stand here all night?” he asked, his deep voice breaking the stillness.

Poka turned to look at him, her expression soft but distant. “I was just thinking about how far we’ve come,” she said, her voice barely louder than the waves.

Buu raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “Far how? We didn’t even walk that much.”

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Not like that. I mean us. Everything we’ve been through to get to this moment.”

He stood beside her now, his crimson eyes scanning her face. “You’re being sentimental again,” he said, though there was no edge in his tone.

“Maybe,” she admitted, glancing back at the ocean. “But I think it’s worth acknowledging. It wasn’t always like this, you know.”

Buu’s smirk softened as he crossed his arms again. “Yeah, I remember. You used to barely talk to me. Always hiding behind your spells, like I was going to bite you.”

Poka looked up at him, her cheeks darkening slightly. “You weren’t exactly approachable back then. Always so proud and intimidating.”

“And now?” he asked, leaning down slightly to meet her gaze.

She smiled, her voice gentle. “And now, I see the side of you no one else does. The side that teases, protects, and... cares.”

Buu straightened, his expression unreadable for a moment before his crimson eyes softened. “You’ve got a way of making me sound a lot better than I am, you know that?”

“I just tell the truth,” she said simply, turning her attention back to the waves.

For a while, they stood in silence, the sound of the ocean filling the space between them. Buu glanced at her again, noticing the way her shoulders seemed more relaxed, her usually guarded demeanor softened by the calm of the evening.

Without thinking, he reached out, his hand brushing against hers. Poka glanced up at him, her light gray eyes wide but warm.

“What are you doing?” she asked softly.

“Nothing,” he said, though his fingers curled gently around hers. “Just making sure you don’t wander off.”

She laughed lightly, the sound soft and musical. “I’m not going anywhere, Majin Buu.”

“Good,” he said, his tone quiet but firm.

They stayed like that, hand in hand as the sky darkened and stars began to appear, their faint glow reflected in the rippling water.

“You know,” Buu said after a while, his voice low, “I don’t do this kind of thing for anyone else.”

Poka looked up at him again, her gaze curious. “Do what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing to the beach and the quiet around them. “Standing around, being... still.”

She smiled, her grip on his hand tightening slightly. “Then I’ll consider myself lucky.”

He huffed, though there was a faint smile on his lips. “You should.”

Poka stepped closer, her free hand resting lightly on his chest. “And you should know that this means a lot to me. Not just the beach, but... you being here.”

Buu stared at her, his crimson eyes softening further. “I’m not going anywhere either, Poka,” he said, his voice steady. “You should know that by now.”

“I do,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper.

He leaned down, his forehead resting lightly against hers. For all his pride and power, moments like this reminded him of something far more important—something he had only found with her.

The waves crashed softly against the shore as they stood there, wrapped in the quiet of their connection. For all their differences, they had found something rare—something unshakable.

And as the stars above lit the night sky, Buu pulled Poka into his arms, holding her as if the world around them didn’t matter. Because, in that moment, it didn’t.