If you've ever seen GT (which I discourage), you've probably noticed that Upa and Bora don't look like they've aged more than ten years since the beginning of Dragon Ball. And so this is my take on why that is. It's a long one-shot, but I hope you like it! I was never quite certain of where I was going to take it, but I'd say I finally landed somewhere.
The heat of the summer's day scorched the Sacred Land of Korin. Only the large trees that reached up with their limber boughs could protect the inhabitants from the sun's blazing rays, though even the lofty shade they created did not provide solace enough for two Indians, one coming of age and the other sick with age.
Standing at a respectable height, the twenty-year-old Upa could only heave a sigh as he exited his father's tipi. He had grown much within the last decade, but his heart couldn't hold the thought of losing his father anymore than the young boy he had once been could. And yet here he was. His father was yellow with sickness and refused to eat, running a high temperature even in this burning heat they suffered in now. The summer had seemed to have ravished his father's typically well-nurtured spirit and had left a certain weakness in the place of confidence. Upa could never remember seeing his father look so pathetic - not even in death.
It had only been weeks before that the two had visited town and heard of a virus spreading about, one transmitted by insects. Upa, however, was too superstitious to believe this; and just as his father did, he believed that this illness had been brought about by some wrongdoing wrought by his father. But what had his father, the honorable Bora, done to deserve such a morbid fate? Was he really going to be cast off to death again?
Upa simply couldn't stand this thought. How could Korin, guardian of this sacred tower, the one that his friend Goku had spoken nothing but praise of, punish his father in such a horrible way? Was it for the countless failures he had faced in climbing the tower that itself climbed into the endless, blue skies above? His father had always been so kind to humanity. Certainly, he fished and he hunted, but humans had been given thumbs for such purposes. It was the meaning of life.
The poor man huffed as he walked towards the edge of the woods, towards the clearing, where he could best see that looming tower. He raised a tan hand up to his face and squinted his eyes, the sun interfering with his gaze, so as to check for signs. But there were no omens of death lingering around the tower, or at least the portion that he could see before the top half disappeared into waves of clouds. That worried him, though. The omens, whether they be in the shape of dark clouds that carried assassins or dark birds that oftentimes seemed to make their way in that direction, may have been resting just above this layer of visibility.
And it seemed that checking would be the only way for this superstitious Indian to assure that his father was not destined to die, even after all of the effort made to bring him back.
Upa stepped into the sunlight and sat down on a large rock glinting with the sun's relentless beating. He tugged at the vest of buffalo hide around his shoulders and decided, right then and there, that it would be best to go ahead and make that journey up Korin Tower. There he could check for omens and, should he come across this sacred protector of these lands, beg for the health of his father. He remained convinced that there was nothing his father could be penalized for, not when his whole life had been dedicated to preserving the peace in this region.
But how could he climb the legendary tower when not even his strong father could? He had always looked at his father as a figure of respect, somebody who would set standards far beyond his reach. He had never seen his father as somebody he could one day surpass. His father was the authority, and he might as well have been the protector of these lands himself with his muscular build and unbeatable air.
That one, heart-rendering image of the corpse delivered by death's assassin, however, managed to shatter this image of his father and build the necessary confidence for Upa to look once more towards the blinding, white tower. If his father had been killed before, perhaps he wasn't perfect. Maybe there was a chance for the poor man to surpass his idol and to find a cure for him in the form of this mysterious protector waiting above.
Korin's fluffy tail gave a lazy flick behind him as leaned against the balcony, careful to stay in the shade so as to protect himself from the harsh sun. He stared down at this land he had been in charge of for so long and, not for the first time, wondered just what he could do to actually take charge. The peoples of the land below him seemed unruly at times, what with all of these Indian tribes running and whooping and making a larger sound than he could stop. He could hear them even from atop the clouds, and sometimes they prevented him from sleeping during their nightly raids. Of course, subduing them wouldn't seem to help, not when the sun itself was so hot that he constantly rolled over with the heat of his fur.
He shook his white paw that had been resting on his cane, seeing another tuft of fur shed itself. With a sigh of disgust, he shook it off over the edge to allow it to tumble down gracefully into the blue. It was awful, this act of shedding, and it was brought about by two factors: heat and stress. If he could eliminate one of these, perhaps his tower wouldn't looks so much like a carpet, and he didn't believe he had the power to shut off the sun.
That useless Yajirobe who occasionally dropped by would do nothing to help him. Korin himself was hesitant to leave the tower, what with all of the actual power he had hiding up here in his array of odd jars, but that fat man made his way down every once in a while, anyways. It wasn't as though it would be any trouble of him to drop by in one of those ridiculous, flying cars he brought - ones that the Indians apparently often mistook as crows - and to give them a word from the cat himself. But, unfortunately, the samurai would do nothing of the sort. He had places to go, food to eat. He didn't seem to possess enough time to appease the stress of the guardian of the Sacred Land of Korin, and yet he could grab a few Senzu Beans.
This only further annoyed Korin, who took no notice of a silent thud that reverberated through the ground. It wasn't until he heard a huff that he spun around, and he was surprised to not find Yajirobe, but to rather find one of those rowdy Indians. However, he bit back the sermon as the man dropped down, and then Korin could register just how odd this phenomenon really was.
Nobody had climbed this tower in recent years besides Goku, Tao, and Yajirobe, and now here was a man, kneeling before him in a gesture of pure respect?
In truth, Upa had been too quick to bow to realize that the thing he was bowing to was merely a cat. He had imagined that he had only caught sight of the edge of a magnificent white robe, unlike any that had ever been seen before, and that now he was bowing to a great guardian of great power, one that his father had never been fortunate enough to see. And so he said earnestly, his face and eyes against the ground, "Great Guardian Korin! I have come in terms of peace!"
Korin bit his bottom lip nervously, seeing this fully-grown man who gave him attention like a small boy eagerly awaiting orders, kneeling humbly to a cat. However, he only retorted, "Yes?"
Upa was surprised by the raspiness of his voice, one that he had always imagined to be clear-cut and refined, though he shook that notion off. Instead, he explained, "My father has fallen desperately ill with a disease that has fallen upon many people, and so I have come to seek a cure from you. My father has done nothing but good for you and your land, and he is still young and healthy, save for this instance. Please, Korin, part him from this curse!"
There was silence as Korin could do nothing but stare at this man, amazed by his persistence. Now looking back, the training requested of the others - or the food, in Yajirobe's case - seemed selfish in comparison. This man, however, had climbed all this way not to benefit himself, but rather to aid his father. And all of this respect could do nothing but tear the old cat's hardened heart. If all of the Indians were truly like this, perhaps he could forgive them for the ruckus they made. But, of course, one man could do nothing to represent his people.
"Bring him up here," Korin finally decided, and for the first time, Upa lifted his face up in shock. He was doubly shocked to see that the guardian was nothing more than a standing cat, and so he found no voice to object. "If you bring him up here, I will try to help him."
It was wicked to ask of the poor Indian boy, barely a man, and yet he could never just give somebody something without a trial, no matter how important it was. If it was heard that the fearsome Korin had lost his edge, he might have had dozens of potential climbers trying and failing at his hands. But this poor man standing before him looked so weak from both the climb and his surprise from such a sentence that Korin said, "Wait."
Upa obediently waited, still on his knees, though his torso and head were held up by his hand flatly against the floor. He watched as the cat swished his tail, making his way across the landing and towards one of pillars. There, he bent down and pulled out something from a rucksack, clenching it tightly in his paw. The Indian was surprised when the cat returned and dropped a small, green bean before him.
"Eat it," he demanded, and Upa immediately obeyed. He grabbed the small bean gently in his large hand and placed it in his mouth, immediately feeling an odd sensation pass over him. Then after chewing and swallowing, his breathing shortened. He stood up on his feet and looked down at his body, his fatigue alleviated. But he couldn't think over this miracle as Korin repeated, "Bring your father up here. The journey down will be easier than the journey up, and you should have enough energy to make it, if you're still as determined as you were the first time."
"But my father... he's a large man," Upa expressed his concern, worried about being able to bring him up. It had been difficult enough to bring himself up, but to carry a sick man who weighed nearly double his own weight along with that climb? It seemed nearly impossible.
"Don't worry," Korin said, waving a paw as though to shake off the man's anxieties. "You'll feel better going up this time than you did the first time. Trust me."
Upa could only turn his head towards the blue sky and release a sigh of hesitant relief, happy to see that there were no dark omens up here that told of coming death and sorrow.
"Father." Bora blinked his bleary eyes, a hand shifting from his bare stomach to his heated forehead. At first, all he saw was the canvas of the tipi he was resting in, but he finally managed to focus on his son's innocent face as he said, "I've climbed the tower."
This news was difficult to register for the older of the pair, who asked, "You climbed... the tower?" So hot did it seem that he couldn't register exactly which tower his son could be talking of, but he quickly found a cool piece of hide on his head.
"I climbed Korin Tower," he repeated, a smile on his face as he pressed the piece of damp skin on to his poor father's forehead, trying to cool him off. "I met the guardian, who's a small cat. But he has magic, father! He made me so much stronger with just a small bean, and I know that he will be able to help you, too!"
The larger man was unresponsive, though, as he shut his eyes and leaned back once more. He was far along in his sickness and could not muster the energy to listen to his son, even as that hydrating hide was passed over his face. Upa bit his lip as he placed the skin back into the watering bowl, though he mustered his grin again as he said, "I'm going to take you up there, father. He's going to help you, and you won't be confined to rest any longer. Just imagine all of the things we'll be able to do again."
Upa's eyes shone with a tender care as he looked down at his father, who had allowed his hand to fall by his side. The man had already fallen into a light slumber, one in which he could escape the horrors of his illness and hopefully dream of better things, such as fishing and hunting. But the set frown on his father's lips tugged slightly at Upa's fears, and he wondered if he would really be able to make the trip back up the tower. It had been difficult at first, though a new-found confidence seemed to have coursed its way through his body after having eating that strange bean. He felt stronger, most certainly, and awake in a way that he hadn't felt since his childhood.
A tiny, sad smile found its way on Upa's face as he stood up, taking care to gingerly sweep a hand through his father's coarse hair. It was difficult to see such a strong man so weak, but if Korin could help him, surely he could help his father.
With some effort, he managed to hoist the larger man over his back, grunting as he did so. He searched for a rope the man had braided from twine and carefully, after placing the man's hands strategically around his neck, tied them together. It was the only safety in assuring that the man wouldn't fall off of his back during the long climb, as Upa would need both of his hands to make work of the tower. He choked with this position, though within moments, he readjusted those bear-like hands so that they better fit around his neck and were less likely to constrict his windpipe.
In such a position with his father failing to wake up, he carried the man with some difficulty out of the tipi and into the sunlight. With the knowledge that there was no omen awaiting them up there, and with the knowledge that he had good favor with the guardian of the tower, he had a feeling that even he, little Upa, would be able to complete this impossible task.
It had been a good twenty-four hours, and there was still no sign of the Indian boy and his father. Korin could only furrow his brow in vexation as he looked over the railing, disguising his fear with anger. It was easier for the cat to get mad than it was for him to care about something, as he had quite a temper in circumstances such as these, and yet the guilt in his chest constantly bothered him.
He really shouldn't have tricked the kid. He should have just given him another Senzu Bean to take down to his father and finished this whole business. Heck, with the chance of somebody as thin as him being able to carry somebody he described as a 'large man', he might as well have sentenced him to the gallows. And yet, even in this bleak time for the cat, he couldn't help but have a bit of hope. If Yajirobe could carry somebody up Korin Tower, there was a fair chance that this young boy, barely a man, would be able to carry his father.
This faint hope prepared him for when he heard a thud behind him, and expecting the Indian boy and his father, he whirled around as quickly as the old cat dared to. However, his sudden elation was quickly replaced by a jerking disappointment as he saw only Yajirobe, having come back after a few weeks of absence. Korin saw him hastily tuck a capsule behind his belt before lifting his chubby face and asking, "You don't have any more of those Senzu Beans, do you?"
"Not for you," the cat replied testily, glad that he had stashed the remaining ones away under his cot. "I'm saving them for somebody who isn't as useless as you are."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Yajirobe asked angrily, crossing his arms in defense of his laziness. "I'm useful enough. Why won't you give'em to me?"
"I'll give you some if you go down and shut up those Indians like I asked you to weeks ago," Korin offered, those this was met with an indignant snort and a puffed up chest.
"You're not my boss," the fat man said indignantly as he leaned back against one of the pillars. "I shouldn't have to listen to you. You're a cat. In fact, you should be listening to me. Why don't you go purr instead of harass me all the time?"
He pushed the hair out of his face and looked out to the blue sky, a reminder of how late it was getting to be in the morning without him having had breakfast. Times were getting rough for the samurai, and he was running out of restaurants that hadn't kicked him out. But Korin wasn't going down without a fight, and he growled at this utter disrespect, so contrasting of that young Indian man's behavior. "This isn't a matter of who's human and who's cat - it's about smarts which, unfortunately, you seem to be lacking. Now get out of here!"
Yajirobe huffed as the cat advanced upon him, waving his staff through the air. "Fine, fine, I'm going," the man said, pulling the capsule out of his belt as quickly as he had placed it in. He sauntered towards the railing with a hand resting on the hilt of his katana, and with a flick of his pudgy fingers, he through the capsule into the open air. It instantly disappeared in a cloud of smoke and left behind a car, hovering miles and miles above the green trees below. Before pulling himself in, though, he turned around and warned, "Y'know, if you don't treat me nicely, you won't ever have anybody to help you take care of your oh-so-sacred land."
He grunted as he stepped into the car, and Korin yelled furiously, "Just get out, Yajirobe!" He bared his teeth as the samurai shrugged and flew off without a good-bye, and he nearly tossed his staff down with the sudden anger that consumed him.
It struck him as ridiculous that the cumbersome, fat man did nothing but complain and bother him. There was no respect at all in the way he addressed him, no honor even for the guardian of the venerated Land of Korin. His furry chest inflated with his fury, and he turned around to face the other direction.
His anger soon enough left him, however, to only leave the hollow feeling that Yajirobe was right. He really needed somebody to take physical control of his land and instill a certain calmness in the savage people that inhabited it. But who could do the job correctly? It would have to be somebody who would willingly follow orders and yet be strong enough to lead those underneath himself. Yajirobe certainly didn't fit that bill, and it seemed as though it would be difficult to find anybody to take such a task into their hands.
But a thought occurred to him, and he buried his chin into his paws, sinking into his furry embrace of the railing. He stared down at the clouds below him and wondered if that Indian fellow would be willing to take over the land, in the off chance that he actually did succeed in bringing his father back up. He seemed to be respectful enough, and with a few lessons on assertion, he might even have a trophy on his hands.
There was a problem, though, that came with this. Humans simply did not live long enough, and before a century was over, he would have a rebellion on his hands. He would need somebody who would be able to stick around for a long time, somebody who wouldn't die any time soon..
Bora did well to only awaken a few times during the journey up the tower, a relief to his son. There was little concentration that could be pulled from this challenging task of climbing to tend to the man, or Upa knew that he would let go. And so whenever his father slipped into a dazed state of consciousness, Upa did his best to answer his trivial questions of where they were or what he was doing without become distracted from his own work. Luckily enough, Bora would always fall back into an easy sleep, one that seemed to lull the large man into death's grasp.
The determined man continued his way up, never looking down towards the ground and rarely looking towards the sky, and instead keeping his gaze on the intricately carved stonework beneath his calloused fingers. It prevented him from becoming discouraged, from seeing that he was a long way off from his goal, though Korin was correct. For one reason or another, Upa felt far better coming up this time than he had the last, even with his father choking him unintentionally with his wrists tied around his neck. He suspected it must have been that odd, little bean, a remedy of sorts that could leave him of all that had weighed him down in recent days.
Upa did cheat himself on occasion by straying from this rule of keeping his focus on the tower. There were times in which he would take a glimpse into the sky, though that was with hours between them. It never failed to relieve him to think of just how far he had come and to know that he was making progress. With each passing cloud layer or with each shift of color in the sky, it felt as though he was becoming closer to healing his father of his ailments.
There was one time, however, that nearly forced his grip off of the tower's rough finish. As he looked up, he squinted his eyes with the bright white of the blazing sun and spotted a faint shadow above. He dared to raise a hand to his forehead to examine it more closely, and his heart seized immediately. It was one of those dark birds he saw from time to time, hovering just below the cloud layer, though this was far above it, close to wear he imagined the tower entry to be. It was an omen of death.
He watched as the bird sped off, and he remained in that position, a dangerous thing to do on a climb such as this. But he didn't care at that moment. With an unforeseen abruptness, the heat of the summer struck him and the weight of his father against his weary limbs burdened him. He felt ill with the thought that this might have all been in vain, what with one omen to cast the farewell.
It was in that instant that the young man, only twenty-years-old, was forced to decide whether or not to continue. He could easily release the sides of this endless pillar and forget his worries for eternity, ending his life as quickly as his father's was destined to. It would ease his resting heart of the worries that throttled it. And yet, Upa couldn't imagine giving up his life, not yet. He was one of the few to touch a Dragon Ball or to climb this tower. Why would he give that up, all for his own superstition?
He resolved to finish climbing the tower and to see whether the omen had been a false one or not. Perhaps Korin had only sent it to deceive him, or to test him in his confidence in the cat. Or, to his chagrin, it could have been real. Whichever of these possibilities it was, Upa had to press on. He had come too far to simply give up.
The sly, white cat was quick to act after Yajirobe had left. He hobbled down the staircase, one paw sliding along its railing and the other clutching his staff. He needed to assure that he had enough of the drink left from when that turtle hermit had last dropped by, because if not, he would have to go fetch some more.
He opened the door to his bedroom with a force he hadn't used in years and made his way towards a cupboard of small jars, scattered about and some sitting precariously near the edge. He began pulling them out, one at a time, and lifting the the tops off to get a good look within before setting each down in a hurry. He had to find one, one that he knew he had saved from that good-for-nothing's dangerous exploits.
Finally, though, after a solid ten minutes of searching, he located one, single jar. He gave the clear substance a slight shake with his paw, and the sediment at the bottom formed a milky cloud. A wicked grin found its way on his face as he analyzed the drink and turned around, not even caring to put the rest of the jars back in their random placement.
His small eyes scanned the room before landing on the three, tall jars standing on the other end. One of those held the path to the Ultra Divine Water, and one of them held the path to an unspeakable destination, one that he would never tell anybody of. And yet there was another one that he kept so secret, one that led to the supposed Fountain of Youth. He snorted as he remembered sending a ninety-year-old Roshi up here after he had begged so long on his skinny knees for a way to continue living. He had begged that his short life had not given him enough time to pursue the martial arts, though Korin suspected it more had to do with women than training.
Though Korin himself had never actually gone down that particular jar, Roshi had come back relatively unscathed with this very jar, filled to the brim with this very same powdery drink. The hog had taken a swig and consumed much of its contents before Korin had forced his staff down on his big toe, insisting that the hermit had had enough to drink. Then he had gone on to stash it away for several centuries, not to be remembered until this very day.
He bent down to grab the bag of Senzu Beans, and with the fragile jar in the crook of his arm, he ascended to the top of the lookout once again. He set his items down carefully before him and gave the blue jar one last look to assure that there was enough for two swallows before putting the top back on it.
There, he sat down. He shut his eyes and meditated in hopes that Kami above wouldn't pick up a spike in his devious aura. It wasn't as though he was doing anything that would necessarily get him in trouble, though tricking an Indian boy for a second time didn't seem to be something that would be favorable in the eyes of the Guardian of Earth and his immortal genie companion.
Should he tell the boy of his intentions? Probably not. Persuading somebody to live eternally wasn't something that was easily done, and Korin wasn't eager to take up such a task.
After overcoming his fears of that omen he had laid eyes upon, Upa's speedy climb seemed to pass even more quickly. His heart accelerated with the weight of his father on his lean back and the force of those thick arms tied around his neck with a quadruple knot to ensure the bond held. He had to hurry, he knew - to gamble his father's life would be to give his carcass to that dark bird that had disappeared earlier. But he was reaching the end, and he couldn't help but find himself thankful for that one, miraculous bean Korin had given him. It seemed to have made all of the difference.
Half an hour had passed since he had seen that omen before he finally reached the top of the tower. He lunged dangerously towards the wider portion of the tower by grabbing on to the railing, allowing his feet to dangle in midair just as his father's limp body was. He ignored the choke hold around his neck and pulled himself upward, finding himself not on top of the landing this time, but rather in front of a wooden door.
He panted as he pulled the two of them up, laying Bora's massive body across the smooth floor after tediously undoing the threatening knot. After allowing himself a minute or so to gain air back in his winded lungs, he reached down and picked his father up. Then he marched with the last of his energy up a staircase, never looking down at the endless distance he had climbed. His chest shuddered as he unsteadily placed a foot on each step, wobbling with each jerk of his body. And finally, finally when he had reached the top of that staircase to see Korin sitting with an array of goods set before him, he passed out.
Korin could only blink as the Indian boy fell over, spilling the huge man from his grasp. The two were clearly unconscious, one with his intense workout and the other with his intense illness. The cat jumped to his feet as he examined the two collapsed bodies from a short distance, shaking his furry head as he did so. It was incredible. The thin boy had described his father as being large, but he had never imagined somebody of such monstrous proportions.
The cat lumbered over towards the two at the pace of a turtle as though to avoid waking them from a deep slumber. Then, with a great effort, he pushed the larger man's arm so that he turned on to his backside. Korin panted slightly, able to appreciate the great weight that had been carried up this tower, though he was torn from this tiny exercise as he felt a great power emanating from the man's body. It wasn't particularly familiar, and yet Korin released a low breath of awe as he realized just what it was. It was the power of Shenron.
He had only seen the mighty dragon once, right outside of his tower, and that had been when Goku had resurrected an Indian man's corpse. And it suddenly hit him that this was indeed that same Indian man, the one that Goku had gone to such lengths to bring back. And if the boy had been willing to put up with a fight through the whole Red Ribbon Army and more for this one man, he had to be someone special.
Clenching his sharp teeth and studying the hardened face, he scrutinized each detail that passed under his eyes. The man's thick lips were set into a frown and his eyes, though closed, showed a pain in the way his eyebrows were positioned. His forehead was flushed with the illness that had come over him so that his tan skin was sickeningly blanched.
The cat had to look away with the burning shame he felt at having forced the poor boy to carry this large man up all of this way. It would have only been a matter of seconds for Korin to have created a Nimbus, seeing as the boy seemed to be pure of heart, but Korin was not a very sympathetic cat.
Now, however, a rush of sorrow consumed him.
He saw it as necessary that he give the man the drink from the Fountain of Youth as well. With having already died once, there would be no bringing him back with the Dragon Balls, and if his son was so devoted to his father so as to climb all the way up here for a cure, the boy would surely die without his father's living. And even if he wouldn't die externally, Korin had lived long enough to know that humans' souls were easily discouraged by fate's ill will.
After walking back to his sitting space, he reached for the bag of Senzu Beans and the small jar of liquid life. He brought them back to the two collapsed bodies and, being the cat of miracles he was, promptly pushed a bean into each of their mouths. It was only a matter of seconds that he heard a faint moan from the younger of the pair, and the Indian boy quickly sat up with a hand held to his forehead as though to halt a headache in its making.
Upa could hardly process a single thought as he sat there, as he could not remember a single thing that had happened. There was no pain anymore, though, which was a triumph in itself, and this shocking absence of pain felt faintly familiar. He shut his eyes and shook his head in his hand before lifting it again, and that was when his memory rescued him. He saw the small, white cat standing there with a cane and jar in hand, the guardian of the Sacred Land of Korin, though this attention was quickly averted as he saw his father stir on the stone floor beside him.
"Father!" he cried, scampering on his knees towards the resting body sprawled on its back. He held a bated breath as he watched his father lift his head heavily off of the ground, bringing his hands up to his face as though to assess whether they were real or not. But after a moment of recovering, he used the bear-like paws of his to grab his son by the shoulders. And all that Upa could see was the utter shock on his face, and all that Upa could bring himself to do was allow a tear to slide down his taut cheek as he whispered, "Father."
"Upa..." Bora's voice trailed as he studied his son's handsome figure. It had seemed so long that he had last seen him, and so he ignored his own curiosity of his surroundings to say, "It's so good to see you, Son."
And with that, father and son embraced so tenderly that Korin, who was standing rather awkwardly apart from this scene, could only release a humbled sigh. It wasn't often that he witnessed human emotion of this scale, and seeing it now only made him feel more guilty for what he was planning to do. But he couldn't tell them of his devious plan to give them eternal youth. Present or curse as it may be, he knew the two wouldn't accept it. Unfortunately, it seemed only to be those with wicked hearts that were eager to accept such a gift.
Finally, after they both pulled apart, Upa pointed towards the white cat and exclaimed, "This is the guardian of our land! He is Korin, and he healed you!"
"Korin?" Bora muttered, furrowing his forehead as he did so. He hadn't expected the guardian to be quite so small, or a cat, for that matter, though he supposed he didn't really care. He instead shifted himself so that he was on his knees, and with a bow that touched his crooked nose the the ground, he said, "Thank you, for all that you have done. We are eternally in your debt."
Korin could only guiltily bob his head and sheepishly reply, "It was nothing," with a flick of his paw. After what he planned, there would be no debt to pay off.
But Bora didn't seem to notice the hesitance. He turned back to his son and, grabbing hold of him in the gentlest way, proudly said, "I can't believe that you managed to ascend to the heavens, my son. You have done what the average mortal, such as myself, has never done. And you did it carrying me, no less."
"It was worth it, Father," Upa earnestly said, his chest swelling with his own pride. "I would never have made the journey had it not been for your inspiration you've provided me with throughout my life."
The two kneeled before the other in a respectful silence. The two hands that were now resting on his son's arms were what had been used to similarly choke his son on this journey up, and the large weight he had used to embrace him were what had weighed him down. But there were two, father and son, so eager to give the world for the other.
Korin finally stepped forth and produced the ceramic jar in his grasp, catching the attention of the pair. And, holding it out before him, he said, "I'd take some of this if it were you. It'll help."
But as chance often plays out, his luck took a terrible turn. It was as though Kami had noticed his horrible motives behind his actions as, out of nowhere, a large, black bird appeared in the sky. The two Indians froze in their act of receiving the jar from Korin and were instead stuck staring at the massive creature, which disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
Korin could only stand there in confusion, unable to see why they both looked so frightened. Certainly, a bird at this altitude was a fairly uncommon occurrence, though it wasn't enough to stop the cat in his tracks of gaining an eternal guardian to keep peace amongst the heathens below. But the cat cursed himself as he realized just what had scared the two Indians: it was their stupid superstitious beliefs. Omens! They thought it was an omen!
The cat could only wince uncomfortably as the two immediately faced him, as soon as the bird had disappeared. The larger Indian's face remained stoic, though the younger one's face betrayed his feeling and openly displayed his fear. He burst out, "Guardian Korin! That was the second one I've seen today! What has happened?"
Upa tore himself out of his father's grasp and leapt to his bare feet, his heart thumping as he glanced to the blue sky once again. It was uncommon to two dark flying creatures in the same day, within only an hour's time, and it could not possibly be a coincidence. "Tell me what is the matter!" he insisted, biting his lower lip nervously. He had faced the fear of losing his father for days, and now this very fear was rekindled in his heart.
"Nothing's the matter," Korin snapped a bit impatiently, holding the ceramic jar close to his furry chest. His temper had given way with this sudden occurrence, and if the younger Indian didn't trust him after all that he had done to heal his father, this little game would be over. They surely wouldn't drink the water from the Fountain of Youth.
"Nothing's the matter?" Upa repeated incredulously, his breathing hastening at such a thought. "Omens do not lie! I've seen an omen before, and I see one now! What is happening, O Mighty One, that you are not sharing with us?"
With his jaw set and his staff firmly on the ground, Korin regained his control of the situation by protectively growling, "Are you calling me a liar? I'm telling you, there's nothing wrong!"
That successfully shut Upa up, whose lips were sealed and whose head was lilted downwards in embarrassment. And in the following silence, Korin only shook his head, unable to believe that he had lost his temper so easily in front of the only people in the world who would probably show him an ounce of respect, and Bora stared intently at the blue, ceramic jar pressed up against the cat's white fur. Finally, Korin opened his mouth to apologize for his defensiveness, but it was instead Bora who spoke.
"It is the jar."
The rhythm of Korin's heart flitted with this accusation, causing him to nearly drop the ceramic container and display the evidence. He gulped at these cold and analytical words from the larger Indian's mouth, and he could only run reasons of why he needed to shut up through his mind. There was something too demanding about the larger Indian's presence that allowed Korin to summon the same respect from him he had summoned from his son, and he immediately realize just how the boy could worship his father in such a way. He seemed acutely aware of his surroundings whereas the boy allowed his feelings to possess his actions.
As nothing was offered to support or contradict this statement, Bora elaborated as he pointed towards the object of matter with a thick finger, "The bird appeared with mention of this jar. There is something that even you, the Great and Powerful Korin, are hiding from the two of us. This secret lies in this jar."
Korin hung his shoulders as Upa lifted his head and Bora continued staring at him with a face void of any particular emotion. And with the intensity of the older man's gaze, Korin could only bashfully admit, "You are correct."
Though the older Indian's expression did not falter, Upa allowed a scandalized intake of air to pass his lips. Korin couldn't believe that this bird had actually spoiled his chance of grabbing the two men for the positions of Secondary Guardians of the Sacred Land of Korin, and he did suspect that it had something to do with Kami's acute hearing. But the cat was already out of the bag, and so he spoke heavily, "There is something in this jar that you may have found as a curse far greater than the one you thought to be placed on your father."
He held the ordinary-looking jar before the audience of two and explained, "Within this jar is the key to eternal youth, though not necessarily eternal happiness. It holds water from the Fountain of Youth itself and will keep anybody who consumes it at the age they consume it. Only one person, to my knowledge, has ever had it before.
"I had hoped that two men with morals such as yours would be able to use this infinite life to tame those of lesser morals than yourselves. You see, my dilemma is that I am more of a guardian in spirit, and there is little I can do to bring peace to my sacred land. But if you two are physically down there, able to interact and build families with them, you can better bring peace to this land than I have ever been able to."
Bora regarded the container, impressed, before asking, "Is it not possible for us to bring peace in our shorter lives? I have had a son, and he will certainly have a child one day who can uphold this virtue. It's not necessary that one generation rules over when there can be multiple that take their turns."
This logic, however, held no appeal with Korin. "You may not realize how difficult it is to find people of the same virtue that you possess. They come rarely, or at least from what I can see." With a slight pause to allow that point to sink in, Korin then asked, "Would you be willing to undertake such a task? It would really mean a lot to me."
For the cat, those words were truly sincere. But Bora could only shake his head and lift himself off of the ground, placing his hand tenderly on his younger son's shoulder. "I thank you for all that you have done for me, but I apologize. I will live the life that the fates have deemed for me."
And with a tiny bow of his head, Bora led he and his son away. But Korin couldn't help but notice the last glance the young, Indian boy gave him, almost a man. There was a glint of something too innocent to be lust, and yet too malicious to be pure in the man's dark eyes.
Twenty years seemed miniscule in the lifespan of a cat who had lived for over half a millennium, and yet there he was, a white cat standing against the railing of Korin Tower with his tail giving an involuntary flick every once in a while. Not much seemed to have happened in this time, save for the arrival of the Saiyans, the destruction of the Cold Empire, and the obliteration of Dr. Gero and all of his androids. Earth was heading into its third year of peace since a certain Hercule Satan's supposed defeat of Cell, and not much had changed.
The only large shift in Korin's personal life was having a room mate for the first time, one that, twenty years prior, he would never have imagined having. Yajirobe had made himself a full-time resident of this particular 'household', though on the particular day in the question, he wasn't to be found.
It was a day almost as intense with sweltering heat as the one Bora had laid on the floor of his tipi so sick, only his son to care for him. What the air lacked in air it almost made up for in degrees on the thermometer, and Korin couldn't even bring himself to lick his matted fur with how dry his rough tongue felt. No, there was certainly no day like one in the torturous summer.
And yet Korin couldn't help but jump, startled, when he heard two feet land softly on the landing behind him. He spun around guiltily before releasing a breath of relief, seeing it was only Korin who was here, somebody he remembered training long ago.
He couldn't help but let out a snicker as he noticed a patch of dark hair now growing on Krillin's once-shiny head, but the fighter ignored this to say, "Hey, Korin! I hope you don't mind me dropping by for a minute!"
"Oh, don't mind what I already had planned for the day," Korin replied, his voice this with his usual sarcasm. "You know me, the busy bee of this side of West City."
"Hah, hah," Krillin snorted, shaking his head as he placed his hands on his hips. "Don't worry, because I'm not planning on bothering you for very long. Actually, I was wondering if I could get something from you."
"Senzu Beans?" Korin asked, his voice conveying his boredom. The only interaction he received from the outside world, save for from Yajirobe, always involved these little beans. Though he was thoroughly surprised when Krillin lifted his eyebrows in shock at this assumption.
"Actually, no," he admitted, scratching the weak patch of black hair he had growing. "I was actually looking for something a little different, one that Master Roshi told me you had." Upon the obvious interest in the white cat's expression, he gulped, "Well, you see, I'm dating one of the androids that, y'know, kinda tried to kill us all. And the thing about androids is that they don't age. Well, I was talking to Roshi about this problem, and he said that you still had some of the water from the Fountain of Youth that, well... I could drink from."
Korin sighed at this little anecdote, unable to believe that his ex-student was actually dating a murder. Or that he was actually dating at all. But he only said, "I'm sorry to inform you, but I don't have any more, and the Fountain of Youth's since dried up. Four hundred years without paying your water bills will really suck it out of you, won't it?"
Krillin only blinked, and seeing that the man didn't get his joke, Korin explained, "I gave it to an Indian boy and his father."
"Oh," the black-haired fighter lamely replied, unable to think of anything to say to this small information. So after a small, awkward silence, he said, "Well, I guess I'll be going, Korin. I'll see you around!"
"Bye, kid," Korin said half-heartedly, giving a the slightest wave before the man darted out of sight. The he turned around to muse over this, the only thing he could muse on anymore. Everybody who visited him felt no obligation to stay and wonder how the cat was really doing - they all sought things from him. He was just a cat. He didn't understand why everybody expected so much.
Even the little Indian boy, Upa, had sought him out days after his father had turned from the offer of the water from the Fountain of Youth. Eternal youth had been too tempting for the man, and with the knowledge that he would never face illness like his father had or ever age in such a disrespectful way, he had asked for the water in exchange for being guardian. And Korin had gladly given it to him, willing to face any wrath that Kami would send after him for such a wicked deed.
The cat wasn't stupid. It was obvious that the boy was going to slip his father some of the drink, even though his father had expressly stated that he hadn't wanted any part of it. The boy had been lured past the boundary of safety and, with all innocence aside, had succumbed to the discontented want that wicked men possessed.
Not even his father's omens had kept him away.