After spending much time in consideration, Maple finally decides on who to see first! …though really it was obvious from the get-go and all corners of her mind had agreed upon it unanimously, but that was in October when the only horrors were fantasies- oh wait, it’s March of Age 776 still.
Anyhoo, she taps her head.
<span class="mu-g">Orange Star High School, Orange City</span>
In a training room for boxing or whatever, a teenager- wait no… a highschool girl of 20 years does punch-kick-block combos on a sandbag. And she does it while her phone has this blaring:
https://youtu.be/ucWYQaErACYNow, Videl Satan could easily smash the sandbag just over a hundred kilometers away if she hit it with one of her special moves like the Sublimely Magnificent Dynamite Punch Mark II, but that wasn’t the point of this training. No, today was fundamentals, making sure she was in-tune with her motions so that when she had to elbow someone at Mach speeds she wouldn’t break her arm off. After all, Gohan was taken out before he could put up a fight, it wouldn’t do for her to be caught off guard.
Something taps her on the shoulder, “Videl.”
At Mach speeds, the girl whips around with a roundhouse kick, stopping just short of Maple Son-Mahogany’s head. The air pressure from the aborted attack still blows the lady’s hat away. “Maple!?” Videl backs up from her, and bumps into the sandbag… which then splits open from where her kick had cut it and unloads all its sand on the ground. “What are you, what do you want?”
“I need to ask you a few things,” Maple explains, face as serious as the grave.
Bemused, Videl swallows a bit as she recalls that Maple is usually a ray of sunshine with a dumb joke in hand when she’s not busy being a mom figure to all. “Okay?” she says, guard lowered but fists still clenched. “I’m sorry about Gohan, I swear I’ll find who did it, and-”
Maple waves a hand, and says, “Thanks, but this isn’t about Gohan.” Also, when she waved her hand, her hat swooped up from the ground and onto her head. Then, she makes a fist, and the sand on the ground gathers and forms into the shape of a chair for her to sit on… a chair with parapets and turrets. She gets out a notepad, flipping to a page, then focuses her gaze up at Videl.
…
Maple smiles. “Do you like sports, Videl?”
Videl frowns. “Yeah? Well, depends on the sport.”
“Heh, yeah. I’d say softball’s a bit too slow for my tastes.” She tilts her head. “How do you feel about volleyball?”
Videl sighs. “So, I take it you’re here to talk about that thing with Pep-"