Returning to this insignificant ball of rock and water—Earth—was supposed to be a stepping stone in your path to power. Instead, it's turned into a relentless exercise in patience. Bulma, the irritating earth woman, has graciously allowed you to live at Capsule Corp, but it’s less a gesture of goodwill and more an opportunity for her to invade your space. She has a knack for interrupting your training at the worst moments, like an infuriating mosquito buzzing in your ear. You’ve considered incinerating her a dozen times over with a well-placed Galick Gun—just enough to teach her a lesson. But then… there was last night.

Last night, against all logic, had been… tolerable. No, not tolerable—enjoyable. There’s no sense denying it, though admitting it out loud would be a bigger mistake than allowing Kakarot to best you in battle. Which brings you to this morning.

You awaken to find the woman wrapped in that disgustingly pink shirt she gave you, her absurdly luxurious bed sheets tangled around her like a cocoon. Her hair, usually styled to perfection, is a riotous mess of blue chaos, and her half-lidded eyes barely muster the energy to glance your way. She’s sprawled lazily on her side, looking far too smug for someone so infuriating.

"Breakfast is downstairs… go get some," she mutters, her voice thick with grogginess. There’s no command in her tone, just an exasperated suggestion, as though she knows you’ll ignore her but says it anyway. Then, with a small, tired smirk, she adds the final blow: "I really need to soundproof this place, y’know? You’re loud… Might wake my parents.."

Her smirk widens as your brow twitches in irritation, a telltale sign of your temper flaring. Damn woman. The nerve. You bristle, fists clenching at your sides, as her smugness seeps into your very bones like a toxin. Loud? You? Ridiculous. If anything, her constant yammering and shrill nagging echo through the halls more than you ever could. And yet, she lies there, utterly at ease, daring you to respond.