It's the day of the tournament, and Kakarot's excitement can barely be contained as he slips through the crowd of people on the tournament grounds. I follow him just as effortlessly, weaving between bodies and open spaces, ignoring the grimy way the crowd makes me feel. I still haven't gotten used to big gatherings of people, and I'm not sure if I ever will. I just don't like the mess of it, the sounds, and the sights. I'd rather be somewhere more subdued. Kakarot, on the other hand, doesn't mind it at all and disappears behind some men, only reappearing when I carefully move past a mother and her child. His head of wild hair stops in front of the changing room, and he disappears inside when I get near him. Unlike Kakarot, I am already dressed in my gi and only followed him because he wants us to find the others together. We're the last to arrive, with even Bulma taking off before Kakarot and I were allowed to leave the lookout. As soon as our training ended, we were gone with a bow and a goodbye.
The crowd seems bigger than the last time, and I shift into a corner to keep out of the way. A child runs past with some cotton candy, likely on a sugar high. A couple huddles close to a stand where they play some game. The man wins, and the woman gets a gift. Random strongly built men tramp through the crowd, with people parting a way for them lest they be trampled under their feet.
Soon enough, Kakarot reappears, fully dressed and prepared, and urges me back into the mess of people to find our friends. It's not hard when they're together, as their ki signatures are a beacon enough. It takes a minute or two of stumbling through the crowd before we see them. I glimpse the top of Yamcha's head first, as well as a bald head that could only belong to Krillin. When we slip through the crowd and get them in our sights, we see three unknowns who don't appear all too friendly. Master Roshi, for one, does not look too happy to see the other old man, and the tallest of them—the bald triclops—wears a smile that quickly irks me.
"My disciples will be taking the championship this year," the old man declares with an overconfident smile. "You'd best leave now while you have your dignity, don't you think?"
A glance at the kanji on the back of one of said disciples tells me that they are of the Crane School, meaning this odd-looking old man must be Shen.
Master Roshi laughs in his face, taunting him, but I'm not as amused. I don't quite like this old man nor the triclops that looks so cocky.
"The Crane School," I step around them to stand at Yamcha's side, smiling as politely as one should when meeting new people. "What a surprise."
Their attention quickly shifts over to me, and their smiles grow more distasteful.
"The lonesome tiger," Shen says, chuckling. "Glad to see you here. It seems today I can finally prove that the Crane School is the most superior."
"From the way you're acting, I highly doubt that," I retort, still smiling. "You're not acting very wise, old man. Out here bragging about your skill rather than waiting to settle it in combat."
The triclops' eyes are on me, and he steps forward. Apparently, he will not take any disrespect toward his master or his school, and that at least is worth some respect.
"You watch your mouth," he warns, glaring.
"This is fun," says an amused Kakarot at my side, silently stepping in front of me and looking up at Shen with a big grin. "I look forward to potentially fighting you."
The triclops scoffs out a laugh in Kakarot's face and wordlessly turns his back to him, leaving without further prompting. Soon enough, the whole group has left, leaving me to watch them go.
"The Crane School would be worth respecting if its master weren't such a terrible character," I remark to Roshi's amusement. "Truly, it's a waste of such a good martial art style."
"You'll get your chance in the ring," Roshi says.
"I look forward to it," I reply.
That cocky smile needs to go, and that entire school needs to be humbled. I would be beyond honored to take them off their high horse.
"Yo, Chichi," Kakarot calls out.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I turn to the rest of my friends just in time to see Kakarot snare Chichi into a gentle bear hug that leaves her flustered and near speechless. Kakarot is all smiles as he challenges her to another match, knowing she's grown stronger and wanting to face her new strength. Krillin gets punched in the chest as a greeting, and Yamcha offers a fist bump as hello.
"You guys sure took your time," Bulma mutters nearby, and I spare her a glance.
"Last minute training."
Conversation has to wait as there are only five minutes left before the tournament starts, and I have to get myself registered before then. There are far more contestants here today.
"How much do you want to bet I'll win this time?" I ask Bulma once everything's taken care of, and she looks at me as if I were a child.
"What?"
"You're willing to bet again?"
"Of course," I say. Why not? Win or lose, our bet is bound to be entertaining. "At the very least, I know I'm beating that triclops. I need to knock him down a peg."
"Yeah, I figured. You don't like it when people are cocky," Bulma says with a snicker. "But there's no guarantee you'll fight him."
"Well, if it's not me, it's bound to be one of the others, and I'm confident in their abilities."
At that, Krillin laughs proudly, standing with his hands on his hips and his chest puffed out. Hey, he's gotten a bit taller—just a bit. An inch or two.
"I see, you've sensed my amazing power," he cackles like a villain, and Chichi side-eyes him while Yamcha laughs along.
"That I have," I pat his bald head, smiling when he glares up at me for such treatment. "The almighty Krillin is bound to show us a thing or two."
"Yeah, I will," he declares, proud and glad. "This time, if I fight you, I'll win!"
"What fantasy are you living in?" Chichi wonders, incredulous.
The familiar space of the preliminary rounds holds almost twice the participants as last year, and once more I retreat to a corner to preserve my sanity. Everywhere around us, people gossip about three years ago and give us cautious glances. Some laugh at us, others are wary, and some don't seem bothered. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the Crane School students whose names I still do not know and likely won't hear for some time. That odd-looking little one is a magic user; I could feel it on my skin when I stood near him. I should keep a close eye on that one. There's also Roshi donning the guise of Jackie Chun once more. Has he still not realized that we know who he is, or does he just not care?
Just as last year, one of the old monks talks about the tournament and the matches. As I assumed, there are a great deal more participants than last time. It will be a hard battle for many, easier for others, and only eight will go on to the final rounds. Funny how I already know who those eight will be. Those Crane School students are likely skilled, so that's two. Then there's Kakarot, Chichi, Krillin, Yamcha, and Roshi. That's seven already. Add me, and we have our eight fighters if all goes well, at least. Hopefully, we don't face each other in the preliminaries.
Most here are serious, and Kakarot is just eating a rice ball. He's still a short boy despite being fifteen now, but he's taller now, and it's noticeable as he stands over Krillin. As for me, heh, I did grow in the last three years, and I'm a bit taller than Bulma now. Not enough to brag about, though.
Yamcha is the first fighter of block one and makes quick work of his opponent, officially setting the tone for the next matches. Krillin's opponent is a giant of a man, and compared to him, Krillin might as well be a mouse. Despite that, his opponent is dealt with swiftly, and the match is over before five seconds. Chichi's battle is satisfying because she had been looked down on by some random man in his late twenties. It's one thing to look down on someone; it's another to deem them weak because of their gender, and this is the lesson that man learns today. Chichi doesn't even give him time to think, and in a flash, he is thrown off the ring.
Our celebration of her victory is interrupted by the bald triclops, and I sigh when he appears at our side.
He opens his mouth to speak; I beat him to it.
"Do you have nothing better to do with your time?" I ask, and he stumbles for a moment. "You don't have to come over here and open your mouth. If you think we're so below you, then so be it. You'll get to prove that in the ring."
Before he can respond, his number is called, and he begrudgingly leaves. Seriously, why do people see the need to make unnecessary comments or taunts when things can be settled in the ring? Actions speak louder than words, especially in our case.
The Crane School is skilled, and the rest learn that today. However, it's not something that affects us much. He moves fast, but by this point, such speed is nothing new or astounding.
Kakarot is up next, and that battle is over in the next instant. Roshi next, then that short Crane student, and finally it's my turn.
The match starts.
"So you're one of the finalists of the last tournament," my opponent says, voice deep and mocking. "You don't look li-"
He's on his knees in the next instance, eyes wide and bloodshot. I step aside and he falls on his face at my feet, match over.
If he had his guard up and not seen the need to run his mouth, he might have lasted a second or two longer.
"That was brutal," Chichi comments when I hop off the ring.
"I don't like the chit chat."
With over a hundred and eighty participants, it takes time for the number to dwindle and the faces of my opponents quickly blur as I blitz through the tournament, ending each match as quickly as possible as to not exert much energy. As I had predicted, Kakarot and the rest advance as easily as I do, and those Cranes breeze through the competition as if it were a cakewalk. I almost wish to fight one of them right now, but I know we're likely to meet in the finals, and that would be far more satisfying.
The preliminaries fly by in a blink, and we're the last ones left standing and free to leave while they settle things in here.
That's how we end up with some cotton candy and a strawberry plushie I had won at one of the stands. It's a trophy rather than a reward because the owner of the stall had been cheating, and I enjoyed the utterly confused look that crossed his face when I won.
I've gone and killed two birds with one stone. I taught a cheater a lesson, and Bulma's in love with the plushie I've won. I barely had to say a word, and she was accepting the strawberry. It's quite sizable, from Bulma's head to her waist.
Kakarot has taken this opportunity to eat as much as he can so he doesn't need to before the match. He wants things to start as soon as possible, after all.
"You guys better show the Crane School just how skilled the Turtle School is, you understand?!" Roshi has just shown himself and is already giving us a command. Nevertheless, everyone nods and he smiles proudly.
My school is also hanging on the line here. I'm the sole member of the Tiger School and feel as if I need to prove a point today.
"This time you're not allowed to lose before we meet, Durian," Kakarot declares. "I'll get to fight you this time!"
"We've fought plenty of times before," I point. "Why would this be any different?"
"Because we didn't get to find out who the true winner is," is his reply. "I was automatically the winner since you couldn't fight, and that's no victory in my eyes."
Good point.
"I'm with Kakarot on the losing part," Bulma adds in. "Don't pull that stunt from the last tournament again."
"I won't have to this time," I shrug. "If I'm facing Chun, I won't let myself be caught in that nasty technique again."
I can sometimes still feel the pain in my veins.
"I can't believe you stupid turtle team guys managed to survive," comes the aggravating voice of the triclops whose name I still do not know. He's wearing that smug smile again, and I ignore him while I secure the straps of my new boots. Bulma had gotten me them today "for good luck." "Apparently there was nothing but garbage in the preliminaries."
Sadly, he's not self-aware enough to realize he belongs to that group. No matter, he'll soon understand where running his mouth is bound to get him. I'm itching to fight him, but even if I don't get the chance, the others can handle it just as well. They didn't spend the last three years twiddling their thumbs, and I didn't expect them to. Their strength has shot up tremendously, and it's almost surprising.
The small Crane makes fun of Krillin's head when he's not looking any better. So what if he has one strand of hair on his head? That's way worse than having none; he looks goofy.
"Alright," the announcer makes his presence known and clears his throat to fully get our attention. "All participants, assemble."
He notices us and smiles, expressing how he's glad to have us back. Apparently, the tournaments before we arrived had been rather boring.
"Now let's get started," he points to the listings with a ruler. "Everything is determined by lottery, so when your name is called, step forward and grab a ticket."
Jackie Chun is the first name called.
Sitting on the floor and barely paying attention, I hear the Cranes converse. I'm not sure if he believes he's being quiet, but he's telling his little friend to mess with the lottery.
"Messing with lotteries, are we?" I'm not loud enough to be heard by the others, but enough for the Cranes to look at me. "How dishonest."
"Gonna stop us?" Triclops challenges. "Not like anyone would believe you."
"I don't have the energy to waste on you," I say, shrugging, and return my attention to the matters at hand. They can do as they please because the results remain the same.
With their interference, the first match will be a curious one with Yamcha getting another chance against Roshi. Match number two is me against the magical tiny monk. Match three is Kakarot against the Triclops—Kakarot, the lucky bastard. And the last is between Chichi and Krillin.
I was hoping I would face the Triclops, and I was hoping he felt the need to put me in my place. For some reason, he wants to start with Kakarot, and sadly, Kakarot is the only one he'll have the displeasure of facing today.
"You lucky bastard," I almost want to punch him for this.
"Hehehehe," is all that he offers me, laughing quietly as he likely imagines all the things he can do. "I'll teach him a good lesson, don't worry."
"Look on the bright side," Yamcha pats me on the back. "You get to fight the other one."
"He isn't very powerful," Krillin says quietly.
"He's a magic-user," and I think that's why I'm facing him in this match.
"Then it's even better."
Match one is a curious one, that's for sure. We're hanging off the wall overlooking the match between Yamcha and Roshi, and so far they have gone blow for blow. Yamcha is far better than he was three years ago. He moves with a grace he had always lacked before. Each step is practiced and fluid, each attack as powerful as it is swift, and his wolf fang fist is better than ever. Master Roshi isn't being backed into a corner, however. He withstands every attack, predicts every move, and drives his own forward with years of experience backing his movements. He's weaker than Yamcha in the ki department, the former having grown tremendously, but Roshi is no simple old man. I start to worry if he'll use the Thunder Shock Surprise on poor Yamcha.
"Yamcha might just win this," Krillin marvels, proud and supportive.
"If it comes to a beam struggle, he's definitely winning," Chichi remarks, pushing herself up and onto the wall to sit comfortably. "If it's based on pure martial skill alone, it's going to be a close call. Master Roshi has years of experience, knowledge, and technique. Yamcha, while skilled, doesn't have all of that under his belt."
"This is how you start a tournament," Kakarot chuckles. "It's exciting."
Punches are traded, kicks are blocked, and things are thrown in that I'm only now seeing. Finally, Yamcha realizes that his best chance of winning is by pulling out the big guns. He cups his hands at his side and adopts the familiar stance, ready to end it here and win this rematch. Roshi won't stand by and let that happen because he knows it's bound to be over should Yamcha get the chance. He makes a dash for him, but Yamcha ducks away and puts himself as far away as possible.
He grins—Roshi quickly powers up his own Kamehameha wave, and in unison, they fire.
The ring is overwhelmed in a soft blue glow that blinds us all for a moment. When it fades and my vision becomes somewhat normal, Yamcha is standing, panting from the exertion but smiling all the same. Roshi releases a heavy sigh from where he stands outside the ring, slumping his shoulders in acceptance and defeat.
"Yeah!" Yamcha shouts, victorious.
That must feel good.
"And there you have it, folks!" The announcer breaks the silence that had settled over the crowd, and everyone erupts into deafening cheers.
"And now for our second match," he announces after Yamcha and Roshi have retreated.
"That's my cue." I scramble up the wall and hop over. "Nice going, Yamcha."
"Better win this so I can beat you in the next round."
"In your dreams, bandit."
I approach the ring just as the small Crane does, and we stand facing each other even after the match has started. He has a vacant stare that does not allude to any emotions, but I don't let it get to me. He's the weirder of the two but has done nothing to truly earn my ire so far.
Then he moves. It happens in the blink of an eye and is as weird as him. I block his kick, however, and jump back, curious. He does it again, fast and odd, and I step out of his way, take his fist, and move with him, sending him to the edge of the ring where he floats just on the outside. My question now is whether this is the work of telekinesis or ki.
"Ah, so you can fly." That makes things interesting. I can't force him out of the ring with his ability, so I'll have to immobilize him. "No matter."
It's my turn to go on the offensive. He's fast, I'll give him that, but after three years with Popo, his speed is mere child's play. He's surprised when I appear on his right after Tien had warned him to watch his left, and a ki-infused kick sends him out of the ring again. He's physically weak, so I'll just have to beat him into unconsciousness.
He wobbles as he floats, and I smile. When I go for him again, he's out of my reach, high up in the sky and looking down at me with his empty gaze. He raises a finger, and I can feel his ki spike in that one instance. Taking a step back, I stop when I recognize the attack. It's far too familiar for me not to know, and when he speaks, he only confirms my thoughts.
"Dodon Ray."
Why does he know that?
He fires multiple at a time, aiming for me each time and missing every shot as I step out of the way of each one. Why does he know that? I jump, packing power behind my legs, and am at his level—before he can even attempt anything, I grab him by the collar, tight enough for him to have to struggle. He won't escape no matter what he tries.
"Are you familiar with one Tao Pai-Pai?" I ask him when we land on the ring and he fights my grasp. He attempts another Dodon Ray, and I grab his wrist. "I'll break your arm if you try that again, so answer my question."
He doesn't say anything, but I know he's familiar with the name. He knows Tao. He doesn't speak much, so I give up on gaining answers from him and release him.
Quick thing that he is, he aims a kick for my temple. I stop him and grab him by the neck.
"Sorry, little guy."
A swift blow to a pressure point later, and he's out cold.
"That's match," I say, and the announcer declares me the victor. With that settled, I carry the small monk with me to the others and hand him over to his friend. "You're familiar with Tao Pai-Pai."
He's concerned for the smaller but his resentment for me fuels him.
"I'd recognize that attack anywhere. Tao loved to use it in his business. Ugly man, I hope he's rotting in hell."
His concern morphs to shock and disbelief at my words, and I'm suddenly grabbed by the scruff, being treated just as I had treated the other just moments back.
"You talk as if you've defeated him," he doesn't believe it's possible, it seems. "There is no way the likes of you could ever beat the great Tao."
Sighing, I force myself out of his grasp, grabbing and twisting his wrists until he's forced to release me.
"I did not defeat him," I say and do not miss the smug and relieved smile that brings from him. "No, I killed him."
The smile fades immediately and morphs into something I can't understand at the moment.
"I'm not sure how you know him, but from how you talk about him, he was likely and obviously stronger than you lot." And that makes it all the better. "So if we're using him as a comparison, it's safe to say you wouldn't be much of a challenge for me. You're lucky you're faced with Kakarot because that one likes to have fun with it."
"That was an insult, wasn't it?"
Yes, sometimes it's best to end it when you get the chance, and Kakarot still does not understand this.
"If you weren't so cocky and insufferable, I might have considered you as skilled as you say," because they are skilled. "But it seems you haven't learned the most fundamental thing a fighter must know."
There's always someone stronger than you around the corner, and in this instance, there are several, but they're too blind to see it.
