Out There

by April CK

I wrote the poem below, shown in italics, especially for this story. So please don't steal the poem because it is mine and besides, it prolly wouldn't make much sense if taken out of context.

Dragonball characters, settings and items are all registered trademarks of at least Bird Studios.

A wide shot of a gorgeous temple. The structure is huge, built like an oriental palace complete with a protective high brick wall around the estate and a single set of heavy metal gates. Most of the exterior has been painted dark red, a sacred color, but there is some contrast. The numerous windows are outlined in dark blue, the doors are outlined in bright crimson and the tiles of each slanted roof are as black as the midnight sky.

The style of the roof makes it evident that this building is divided into several sections. The center section, the front hall, is both the widest and tallest part of the temple. Two long hallways branch off from the center section and, in perfect symmetry, each one leads to a narrow tower. On the towers, the roof is more decorative with a strip of slanted tiles wrapping around every floor of the building so that the windows are always shaded.

Colorful silk banners with proverbs sewn onto them hang down from the edges of the roofs, flapping in the gentle wind. Chimes of both wood and metal dance in the breeze, filling the air with their musical tones at irregular intervals. Birds chirp, insects hum, tree branches rustle and little waterfalls babble - the world was full of sound. Even so, the area around the temple seems quiet. Muted. Reverant.

From the higher floors of the tower, the view was wonderful. The temple was nestled in a semi-remote area of the mountains. Surrounded by lush gardens, groves of ancient trees and countless tiny seasonal waterfalls that only happened when the snow was melting. On a clear day, you could see for miles.

Which is exactly what a certain young lad at the temple was doing.

In the halls of history, From these towers of the past... I glimpse the reality beyond our walls And I feel my world collapse.

It wasn't a bad life at Orinji Temple. In fact, quite the opposite was true. The temple was peaceful, orderly. There was an air of deep respect about the entire place. Being a monk was an honorable lifestyle - even if he hadn't exactly chosen the career. He'd just sort of fallen into it somehow. Krillen wasn't sure, he didn't remember much of his early life. He'd just always been at the temple, that's how it seemed.

He leaned on the dusty windowsill and wondered if Krillen was even his real name. Whether it was the name that his parents - whoever they were - had given him or something the monks had made up. He didn't have a last name, he hadn't ever needed one.

There were a pile of scrolls behind him. He was supposed to be studying various aspects of religious and philosophical history so that he could write his own reports on similar subjects. But it was such a beautiful day outside that he couldn't help pausing to admire the scene.

Out there... The sky is still blue out there. And out there... History is happening.

He was age thirteen and, as far as he knew, he had never set foot outside the temple walls. Thus despite his youth, he had attained a fairly high rank among his peers at the temple because his whole life was the temple. It was all that he really knew.

To put it simply, Krillen wanted to know more. He was, and knew that he would always be, eternally grateful to the temple and its residents. Orinji Temple had done so much for him - providing regular meals, a place to sleep, clothes, security, education, health care and a sense of purpose. At times, it seemed silly to want to leave all that behind but... Out there.

Krillen was curious. He wanted to know what the rest of the world was like. He wanted to use his life to be part of history instead of just studying the subject. He wanted to wake up one day and not have every minute of that day already scheduled.

Each time I hear of the real world, I know it's more than they're saying. People to meet, places to see... I can only spend so much time praying.

Prayer was not a bad occupation. Cleaning, painting, farming, studying... Nothing that happened around the temple was too awful. Granted, there were some bullies. And not all of the monks got along. Krillen didn't consider any of that a big deal - the monks were still human after all, everyone had their own ideas and opinions on things. Life at Orinji Temple would be totally boring if everyone always agreed on things.

Still... The schedule was horribly predictable. After thirteen years Krillen didn't even have to wonder where everyone else in the temple was or what they were doing. He had memorized everyones daily routines. He knew what each monk was doing today and what they would be doing tommorow and every day after. He knew what meals would be served for the next year and though the food was always delicious and healthy, after thirteen years he didn't even taste it anymore.

The ugly truth of the matter was that even if he gained rank again, Krillen knew exactly what he'd be doing for the rest of his life if he stayed at the temple. Some people - people who liked routines and stability - would have felt comforted by that idea. Krillen wasn't sure that he was one of those types of people. Besides...

Out there... The rules are different out there. And out there, Blood won't prove your purity.

Krillen absently ran his fingers over his forehead. He was feeling out the two rows of dot-sized burns that were there, embedded into his skin forever because of a purifying ritual he'd had to pass to gain rank last time. He'd voluntarily shaved his head for that ritual since he hadn't wanted his hair to accidentally catch fire.

At first the rituals had been relatively easy things. Walking barefoot across a carpet of paper without tearing any of it. Meditating for long hours. Solving riddles. Interpreting dreams. Writing reports. Traditional stuff like that. Tests of intelligence, balance and patience. The last ritual though, the series of burns, that had been the first one that had ever tested Krillens endurance of pain. To gain rank again...

The sacrifices got steadily more complex and more painful. It was no wonder that some of the higher ranked monks limped all over the place. It was no wonder that some of the higher ranked monks were always hunched over, even when they stood up straight. Krillen understood why it was done. The sacrifices had to be painful or else everyone would gain rank too easily. Being willing to endure the pain showed that you were truly devoted to your beliefs. Simply surviving the ritual showed that the gods felt you were worthy of the higher rank, that they approved of your intentions.

As much as Krillen believed these things, he also felt very strongly that there ought to be a better way. He wasn't so blinded by his faith that he accepted things without question. He needed the outside world. As long as there was a world beyond the temple walls then he had options. Alternatives.

Essentially, anymore, he was just looking for a polite excuse to pack up and leave one day. It had not been an easy decision to come to but it seemed like a sensible one. The other monks in the temple knew what Krillen was planning because he hadn't seen any reason to keep it a secret. His peers frowned upon his choice, they voiced their loud disappointment and disapproval as often as possible. But the more they tried to pressure him into staying at the temple, the more determined he became to leave.

Krillen wanted to prove that you could be pure and faithful without being locked up in a temple your whole life. Without having your forehead burned repeatedly or anything else. It was slowly becoming his personal mission in life. There had to be other paths to heaven. Not just the traditional ones that the temple endorsed.

Logically the other paths, the non-traditional ones - they were out there. In the real world. Beyond the temple gates. There were only a few little details holding him back...

I wonder if the doors Will stay open behind me. Could I come back If the dream doesn't find me Out there.

The other monks hadn't just lectured Krillen. It wasn't all just disapproval and disappointment. His peers had shown geniune concern for his well-being.

The outside world was a dangerous place. The monks had told him he was too young to travel alone but they'd also refused to go with him. Krillen didn't know anyone out there beyond the temple. He didn't have any place to stay, he didn't have any money and he wasn't even sure what to expect. If he left then he didn't know where he would go, what he would end up doing or who he might meet. It would be an adventure - that was half the appeal.

Yet Krillen couldn't take such a thing lightly. He hadn't had an adventure before. Honestly, he was a bit afraid about what could happen. What if things didn't work out in the end? Would the temple let him come back? Would he lose the rank he'd worked so diligently to gain? Was he isolating himself forever? There was so much that could go wrong. Krillen couldn't deny that much.

And I wonder if I'm foolish For having this ambition. For turning my back On the face of tradition Out there.

Deep down Krillen wanted to go anyway. As soon as he figured out where exactly he could go, he'd leave. That was all there was too it. No point in starting the journey without picking a direction first.

For now though he was still at the temple. Still a thirteen year old monk who was supposed to be studying. He stood up, shaking his head a bit to clear the lingering daydream as he turned away from the window and back towards the pile of scrolls. There were a few newspapers mixed into the stack. Krillen pulled one of the newspapers free, causing the rest of the pile to fall over.

Out there... Why does my spirit want to be out there? And out there... What could be waiting for me?

In bold print the newspaper headline declared Old Man Blows Up Mountain With Bare Hands! and in the article beneath a fellow called Roshi was quoted as saying that it had been accident. The owner of the former mountain, a man listed by the name Ox King, reported that no one had been hurt but added that there had been a castle decimated by the attack. The castle would be rebuilt. Roshi, a legendary martial artist, promised that he'd try not to blow up anything else. He suggested - and the reporter must not have been sure if Roshi was kidding - that it would be helpful if people sent him adult magazines to keep him preoccupied.

Krillen arched an eyebrow at the article. He checked the date on the newspaper and saw that it was recent. Slowly, he grinned as an idea started to take form. Surely, anyone who was considered a legendary martial artist would be willing to accept a student...

Out there... At least it'll never be boring out there. And out there... I like it already.
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