Chapter 2
The sun rose early that morning, shining brightly upon the southern islands as the day of the great martial arts tournament began. The city was bustling lively and countless people were becoming more and more eager for the big competition to start. Many late-coming fighters raced for the registration booth, signing up their names before it would be too late.
Around the corner of the front entrance crowded by entering combatants, a young woman carrying boxes, each labelled with a red cross, was walking towards the back of the compound. She smiled as she looked at the lively streets filled with cheerful faces, amazed at how quickly civilisation had managed to pick itself up after the agonising reign of the evil Demon King three years ago. What once were heavily damaged buildings, struck down by the cruel ruler's sadistic attempts to instil fear into all those who dared to even think of opposing him, were now standing tall once again.
The new peacetime that had been miraculously granted to the world by unknown heroes did not keep her heart entirely at peace, however. Deep in her mind laid thoughts of worries and doubts.
Her eyes widened as she entered the rear entrance, noticing a dark figure to her left, leaning against one of the brick walls that encircled the complex. Despite a jet-black cloth wrapped around his head, almost masking his entire face save for his sharp, piercing eyes, she realised who he was instantly due to his familiar dark cloak and unusually tall and imposing figure. He gave a small nod towards her.
While a little shaken by his presence, she approached him and bowed her head, returning the gesture. "Hello. I almost didn't recognise you there. Um, may I ask why you're wearing that over your—"
"Face?" He turned and glared at the cities' citizens going about their day on the street across from the back entrance. "Well, seeing as how my appearance may… disturb others due to certain complications— complications that I recall you yourself acknowledging once— I've decided to enter the tournament in a more discrete manner."
"I see" She steadied the uneven boxes in her hands. "Are you doing well lately? It's been a few weeks since I last saw you. Please tell me you haven't gone about searching for h—"
"That's none of your concern."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I just…" Her mouth quivered. "If you ever need to talk, just know that I'll be there for you."
"What do you mean? Why would I need to tell you anything?"
The young woman felt hurt by his words. For over three years she had known this person, and for most of that time, she thought that their friendship was mutual. However, this wasn't the first instance where he had spoken to her so coldly. His sudden change in attitude had been going on for some time now. He preferred more and more to keep to himself, and would get easily agitated if any company was offered.
Wishing not to push his foul mood further, she moved for the back door of the rear building. "Well, in any case, I'll be in the infirmary."
The masked man scoffed as he looked at the boxes of medical supplies in her arms. "Is this all you're going to do for the rest of your life? You should do your forefathers proud and take on the path that you were born for, not wasting your time dealing with the wounds of inept ruffians. Do you not wish to carry on your family's legacy?"
The young woman stopped short in front of the door. "But I… Isn't saving people's lives through nurturing, and easing their pain just as honourable?"
"Perhaps, but I know of your heritage, and it's not one that should be spoiled."
She struggled to find words, wishing to change the subject. "So…" She gestured towards the tournament buildings behind her. "Are you sure that you want to go through with this? Really, you don't have to do all that for me. It would feel like I'm taking advantage and stealing away other people's chances to earn a good fortune." She looked down, guiltily.
"You shouldn't. You've helped me a great deal and I wish to repay you, and what's a more superior reward for all your troubles than the tournament's prize money?" The masked figure raised his hand. "If you wish to ease your conscience, I'm not doing this just for you."
He clenched his fists tightly as violent, painful memories came flooding back. Thoughts filled with images of long blonde hair, pale skin, sadistic eyes, an insidious grin, and condescending laughter. The small pebbles around his feet began to shudder, and the air around him started to heat up with an intense, burning aura.
"I am a warrior. That's just what I am, and what I shall always be. When a warrior's resolve is tested and their pride is crushed, they must press on and try to reclaim their dignity. It is now my time to do so, and ensure that no one will ever again attempt to surpass me."
"But won't you just be facing fighters far weaker than you? Or do you mean… Wait, is she going to be there? Is this what it's all really about? Her?" the young woman asked, fearing the answer.
The masked man stood silently. With no response to her queries, he only stared at the large, aged buildings that housed the competition's preliminaries. His eyes were burning, not with the passion and love of a fighter, but with an intense desire for retribution.
"I must go. I've no time for dawdling any further."
The young woman moved forward. "No, wait!" In her haste, her boxes toppled out of her arms.
It was too late. Right before her very eyes, he vanished instantly, as if he had just blinked out of existence. With a sob, she kneeled towards the fallen supplies.
As she began piling them back up one by one, her thoughts continued to revolve around the masked figure and what had just transpired. That malicious glint in his eye was now etched into her mind; a warning of undying anger and a lust for vengeance, once thought to be pacified, that may soon come to be satisfied once and for all. But she didn't have the strength of her father, and she was in no position to stop the man she called her friend from doing something awful. Who possibly could?
As she reached for one box, a shadow loomed over her palm. She raised her head to find its owner and right in front of her approached a young man. He scratched his head, looking left and right searchingly.
He caught sight of the young woman. "Excuse me, ma'am. This may seem like a peculiar question, but have you seen a tall, dark, menacing, possibly short-fused individual hanging around here lately?"
She just stared. Caught off guard by the sudden, odd inquiry.
"I'm sorry, scratch that. I just realised that should probably account for like ninety percent of the participants here today, huh?" He eyed the boxes all over the ground. "Uh, May I lend a hand with that?"
"Huh? Oh, yes. Thank you." With a sigh, she continued stacking the boxes. "I'm not usually this clumsy, but you know, it's a busy day and all. It can be very stressful."
"Yeah, I know that feeling." He knelt down and picked up two boxes with little effort. "I take it from these that you're a medic for this year's competition?" he said as he eyed the red crosses. "Not to be a negative Nancy, but you may have your work cut out for you."
"Is that so?" She smirked a little. "Why? Are you planning on sending a lot of entrants to the infirmary yourself?" she asked jokingly.
He chuckled. "No, no. It's just that… Well, call it a hunch."
"I see. I didn't think you were really a fighter." She eyed his exotic, tattered, brown poncho. "Are you a tourist coming to watch the competition? It's not everyday one sees such… interesting apparel here."
"Actually, I am entering the tournament this year as a matter of fact. Don't worry, though, I'll try not to rough anybody up too much."
"Oh really? I think someone's being a little too over-confident."
"Eh, considering I know for certain that I'll manage, that's debatable." he said nonchalantly. "However, I haven't gotten much sleep these past few days, so I'll have to try a little harder. For today at least." He yawned.
Hearing those words, she could only look upon him in pity. Here was another participant who thought too highly of themselves, too naive and so self-assured to understand how much of a struggle they'd be in for. She had seen young fighters with big dreams being sent to the medical ward many times in the past, always broken and their hopes crushed after facing reality.
With all of the boxes in a pile, he lifted them up. "Through there, right?" He gestured his head towards the sickbay's building.
"Yes. Thank you." She opened the door for him.
As he entered the infirmary, the pleasant warmth of the sun left, the cool temperature inside immediately taking over. He looked at the two long rows of beds on opposite sides of the room, ready and waiting for this year's entrants who would receive the harshest of defeats in their attempt to win the championship. A sense of foreboding came over him as grim thoughts filled his head. As much as he wished, he knew that it was all too true that this year, in this room, there will inevitably be a multitude of occupants.
"So." She eyed him suspiciously.
"Er, yeah?" His wandering mind snapped back to reality. He inhaled heavily, catching the scent of antiseptics filling the air, and laid down the boxes on the infirmary's floor.
"Forgive me if I'm being nosey, but may I ask who were you looking for? 'Tall, dark, and menacing' people running around here isn't exactly a situation we'd like to be dealing with right now. You weren't trying to pull off any shady business back there now were you?"
The young man gave a hesitant laugh. "No, no, no, no. It's nothing like that. D'ya really think I look like the type of guy who'd be involved with shady dealers?"
She scanned him apathetically and gave him an unconvinced look as she leaned against a desk.
He sighed. "Look If I were involved with someone like that, I wouldn't be asking people if they'd seen 'im, now would I? Least of all you."
"Excuse me?"
"Uh. Sorry. Um, I mean, if I were to do that sorta stuff, I'd be keeping a low profile, wouldn't I? It'd be pretty stupid of me to be bringing attention to myself, especially from people who actually work here, like you, right?"
"Right." She smirked. "Well, if you're not here to make trouble, why are you looking for it?" she asked interrogatively as she began to circle him. "Is this sinister person an entering combatant as well? Someone who you're looking to rough up?"
"N-not exactly. I, er— Well, I—" He turned his head, trying to catch her eye.
She stopped in front of him, eager for a straight answer. "Yes?"
Staring at the man, his eyes closed in deep rumination, she noticed a handful of fading nicks and indentations upon his face, and a small scar near the corner of his left eye reach down to his cheek. Even if he was a martial artist, it was still unusual to see so many wounds chiselled all over his face, especially on someone as young as he. Was the person he was looking for responsible?
It was then that she realised the uncomfortable silence that had entered the room. One not unlike the last that had interjected her previous conversation before it was cut short.
"What is your name?" he suddenly asked.
She raised an eyebrow. "Chiko."
"Well, Chiko… Rest assured, you don't need to worry about any mishaps during this year's competition. The last thing I want is for this wonderful day to be ruined by any unfortunate circumstances." He opened the door. Bathing in the warm sunlight once again and taking a deep breath, he took leave.
"Hey, wait a minute." She ran to the doorway. "I gave you my name, the least you could do is tell me yours!"
As he approached the back-exit of the premises, he turned.
"Sora."
All the participants gathered in the large building closest to the compound's entrance where the preliminary rounds were to take place. Inside, eight fighting rings were situated in the centre of the arena. The sun's rays gleamed through the small windows along the enclosure's walls.
The place was packed with combatants of all shapes and sizes. Some were hulking, grisly figures that looked as if they could crush an average-sized man with their two bare hands, others looked petite, fragile, and out of place in the crowd of battle-hungry combatants.
Despite the legion of fearsome opponents eager for action, nothing could deter Axel, and Kage's enthusiasm to get into the crowd and be a part of another historic event in the world of martial arts. Kai and Sly on the other hand were despondent, having still not reunited with their old fellow Turtle School student.
Earlier that morning, after the pair had woken up and, much to the shock and awe of nearby eaters, indulged their almost-insatiable appetites by scoffing down a plethora of food taken from the hotel's buffet, they opted to wait downstairs on the ground floor of the hotel while the others were getting ready. As they waited, they hoped Sly's words from the other night would ring true, and their old friend would emerge from the stairs or lift to the upper-level lodgings. As time passed, all that greeted them before their teacher and the others joined them was the chill of the room's air conditioner and the growing noise of bustling citizens and tourists outside.
Now, with Roshi and Bulma's best wishes, the four fighters were patiently waiting for the preliminaries to begin.
"May I have your attention please?" A voice echoed across the area, emanating from the other end of the room.
Everyone turned to look for the source, laying their sights upon a tournament representative standing on a stage. Other staff members surrounded the platform, sitting before multiple desks with boxes laid atop each of them.
"Wecome to 23rd Strongest Under the Heavens Martial Arts Tournament. We have quite a turn out this year, so let's quickly move to our first order of business. We will begin by selecting fighters for each match using lots drawn from the boxes located on the tables before you." He walked towards the wall behind him, raising his hand at a large board displaying a tournament bracket. "Each of you will then compete to avoid being eliminated until there are only eight fighters left who will then move on towards the quarterfinals. I will now explain the rules."
A series of groans escaped the impatient audience.
The representative ignored the fighters' unabashed moans of disappointment and continued. "A participant loses a match if they're knocked out, falls out of the ring, or forfeits. If a contestant uses a weapon of any kind or kills their opponent, they will be disqualified. You may now receive your tickets. Good luck to each and everyone of you, and may you all fight fair."
Lines began to form hastily before each desk; the fighters were pushing and shoving, growing more and more anxious as they waited before it was their turn, hoping not to be pitted against powerful opponents on their first round. Some contestants caused a stir by cutting in line, and others came close to almost backing out, growing more and more tense as burly, intimidating entrants breathed down their necks.
A short while passed, and Kage, Axel, and the two Turtle School boys received their designated numbers.
"Hey, I got number four! So that means I'm in the first half of block one." Sly smiled. "Guess you guys get to see me in action first, huh?"
"Maybe, so long as I'm paired up with some poor git who'll go down fast before you get your turn on your end." Axel looked down at his lot. "I'm in the second half of block three, but I'll be in the first fight o' that side so I won't be stickin' 'ere for much too long."
"Really?" Kai said. "I'm in the first half of block three!"
"Izzat so, kid? Well, if you do well, you just might just have th'pleasure of facing me very soon." Axel laughed.
"I'll try to contain my enthusiasm." Kai scoffed. "What about you Kage? Are you anywhere near our spots?"
"No." Kage pointed towards the area containing the third and fourth of the building's eight rings. "I'll be taking part in the second block. If all goes well for Sly and I, it won't be till the first round of the semi-finals that we'll do battle. I do not worry, for Sly is a powerful martial artist. I however may have a little bit of a challenge on my hands. Right now, I sense a powerful presence among those situated around the same block as mine."
"A… presence?" Sly asked.
"Yes. It's actually a little familiar to me, though I can't quite put my finger on it. Curious." Kage fondled his chin in deliberation. "Yes, I'm sure I've sensed it somewhere before… Although, now it is one that is burdened with heavy thoughts and uncertainty."
With his eyes closed, and his mind focused, he could easily discern this energy that he had once become acquainted with. The feelings of remorse and tribulation flowed through the distinguished spirit, masked by a falsity of other, pleasant emotions. Emotions that had once been genuine and fuelled this energy's fire and passion for fighting.
He smiled to himself. "The strong do make for the most intriguing individuals, don't they? I'll indeed be in for an interesting experience soon enough."
Kai watched as Kage began to move towards the second block. He took note of his friend's intrigue in this supposed person whom he'd come to face, wondering if there was truly someone who could be more than a match for him.
"Ah, I'll never get, Kage." Kai folded his arms. "Him and this 'sensing' business. I don't feel anything but the hard, stone floor, the annoyingly hot temperature today, and an itch for a good fight!"
"Guys, it'll be a while before my match starts so I'm going to look around for Sora. Try not to cause any trouble today, mmkay?" Kai said.
Axel spat at the ground. "The 'ell d'you mean by that?"
"Oh, y'know, at these events there's always a bunch of big lugs giving everybody the stink eye, trying to provoke someone for the fun of it. With your temper, I just wanna make sure."
"My fight'll start soon, but there's no rush so I'll come too," Sly volunteered.
Axel kicked the floor. "Is it so damn hard t'fink I could be civil? Y'bastards put so little faith In me, I swear."
"Number Thirty-One, would you report to the ring, please." The referee called. "Lot Number Thirty-One, are you there!?"
Among the crowd assembled together around the first ring of Block Two turned many heads. The participant containing the thirtieth lot had taken his position moments ago, but his opponent was nowhere to be seen. Adjacent to the arena, the first match of the second half in the same block had already ended quickly due to a ring out and the following contestants were already taking their place.
Against the wall nearest to the congregation of Block Two entrants, a person lied peacefully, his face bowed down, touching the material of his tattered poncho. A handful of fighters surrounded him, pointing towards the lot that laid in his outstretched hand on the floor.
"Hey, isn't that him? What the hell, guy? Get up off the floor!" said one burly martial artist.
A smaller, thin fighter kneeled down and smacked the young man's cheek. "Hey, kid, you're up. This is no time for dozing off."
His eyes slowly opened, still half-asleep. "Mmm… Wha—? Issattimeferbreakfast?"
A multitude of participants growled in anger. Never had they seen such tardiness at events such as this. They could only be perplexed as to why such a young individual, so unkempt and clearly out of his league, would come all the way out here to this tournament just to sleep through it. Maybe he was a confused homeless itinerant who had lost his way. From the look of his rags, that seemed to be the case in everyone's minds.
"No, you punk. It's time for you to get in there and be taught some manners!" shouted a fighter from the crowd.
"Er, yes. Please, sir. The preparations for the preliminaries have been made a while ago and we're waiting for you to take your place," the referee requested.
"Oh. Right. Mmkay…" He said as he rubbed his eyes, slowly got up and stretched "Sorry, everyone. I'm just a little sleep-deprived and needed a little nap, but I won't do that again. I promise."
"What are you, five years old? Just stop wasting our time and take your spot already!"
"Right!" The young man exclaimed.
With dozens of sighs and contorted, enraged faces relaxing, the group of contestants calmed themselves and all moved back, circling the ring for a better view of the fight that was to come.
"But first, I should go to the bathroom."