Kyuuri Brall was one of the greatest boxers the ring had ever seen. It had come to the point where she had to be moved up two weight classes, and an entirely new league of co-ed boxing had formed as aspiring fighters challenged her for the title of World's Greatest Boxer. But, Kyuuri frowned as she threw another punch at the sand-filled bag, not the world's greatest fighter.
That title belonged to Son Goku.
The punching bag flew through the air, splattering open on the far wall. Kyuuri sighed and grabbed another, hooking it to the ceiling. As she threw jabs and hooks and uppercuts at the leather, she remembered her first and only encounter with the spiky-haired boy.
'Don't hold back on me just because I'm a girl, alright?' She taunted,rewrapping the bandages on her hands.
'Why would I hold back because you're a girl?' The boy, perhaps a bit younger than she was, smirked at her, settling into a fighting stance.
Kyuuri said nothing, just grinned as she lashed out with a swift left jab. Goku dodged out of the way easily, and attempted to counter with a low kick. Just as he was ducking down, Kyuuri brought her other hand to his chin in a devastating uppercut. Goku flew into the air, landing with several backflips.
'You're good,' he grinned.
'I know,' she replied.
Back and forth they went for an eternity. At first, it seemed like they were evenly matched. But, as the fight wore on, it became clear that Goku was just a bit faster and a bit stronger than Kyuuri. An elbow collided with her stomach, and she fell to her knees. Goku jumped back, waiting for her to make another move.
And she had simply given up.
With effort redoubled by rage, the boxer released a flurry of punches and frustration into the bag. If she trained a little harder, if she got a little stronger, then she could beat him. At least, that is what she used to think. Then she had heard rumors of some spiky-haired man taking on literal armies, even otherworldly opponents with ease. That was a level she'd never reach.
Kyuuri grabbed the bag to stop its wild swinging.
"That's enough for tonight," she said to no one in particular. She flicked on the news as she unwrapped the bandages from her hands.
"This is an invitation for all of you to attend a tournament I'll call the Cell Games."
Well, that was interesting. A pink eyed bug-man was speaking rather smugly into the camera. The gist of his little monologue was that he was hosting a modified World Martial Arts Tournament, except the stakes were much, much higher. Kyuuri picked up her jump rope, deciding that she'd check it out on her nightly run.
Until then, she'd keep training.
Cell stood perfectly still in the center of his ring. In his mind, he was training. Fighting against a thousand Goku's, a million Vegeta's. Each move he made was calculated. Of course, he was hit occasionally, but he countered fast enough to utterly destroy his opponents. This was his way of coping with the boredom until he could face off with the real deal.
He sensed a small power approaching his ring. Small, perhaps, was inaccurate. It was an impressive power compared to any average earthling, but to him, it was merely insignificant.
"I believe I specified that the tournament would be in ten days," Cell began, waiting for the other's reply.
"Yeah, you did. I figured I'd come see if you were real or not."
Cell looked over his shoulder. A woman with messy red-brown hair was inspecting him from the edge of the ring. She appeared to be wearing a lilac sweatsuit.
"And your judgement on the matter is?" He drew out the last word.
"You're either very real, or I've taken one too many blows to the head," she answered, hopping onto the ring.
Cell turned to face her fully now. She was rather average in height. He couldn't say what her physique might be, for it was hidden under her clothes, but he assumed she was rather athletic, having ran all the way out to his ring.
"Your first assumption is true, though I don't know you well enough to make a judgement on the latter."
The woman laughed loudly, and rather ridiculously. Every third laugh was punctuated by a decidedly vulgar snort.
"Was there something I could help you with?" Cell raised one brow.
"Yeah, I didn't just come here to see if my mind was playing tricks on me. I have a question,"
He tilted his head.
"Realistically, could I even put a scratch on you if I competed in your little tournament?"
His pink eyes flashed as he looked her up and down.
"No,"
"Oh, okay then. That's all. I'll leave you to… training, or meditating, or whatever it is you were doing," she scratched the back of her head and turned quickly to leave.
"But-"
She stopped in her tracks.
"You could eventually become quite the threat to me, if you were trained properly,"
"What do you mean 'trained properly'?" She turned back to him, eyes narrowed.
Cell grinned.
"Surely you don't think this," he extended a hand to indicate her, "is as strong as you can get,"
"I'll have you know I'm the greatest boxer to ever live! What the hell do you mean?" She was starting to get offended. She worked damned hard to get where she was today.
"Well, I suppose this is as strong as you could get, if you continue to train like a human,"
"Well- what else am I supposed to train like, a bug man?" She placed her hands on her hips and frowned intensely.
Saiyans, Cell laughed inwardly, such fire.
"You mean to tell me you don't have the slightest idea what you are? What you truly are?"
"Stop teasing me and just say it already!" She nearly shouted. Cell decided to forgive her tone. For now.
"Ask your parents about your tail. When you come back tomorrow, we'll discuss it further," he turned his back on her, returning to his previous stance.
He chuckled inwardly as she ran off into the night. She would be back, he knew it. That was simply how Saiyans were.
