Dragon Ball: Makafushigi Adventure

By Reid M. Haynes

Disclaimer: Dragon Ball and all characters within are the property of Akira Toriyama, TOEI ANIMATION, and various other companies. I am using them without permission, and I am making no money off of them.

Legend:
( ) Denotes thoughts.

Tale 11: The Heart's Battleground, Part 1

*****

The devil of daybreak shrouded the heavens in its night cloak, with only a small blaze of blue burning across the horizon. Nimbus hesitantly moved through, blown westward by the cold morning winds. Below, the rolling plains spread into the far distance, where the snowcaps cut forth with an azure gleam of near-aurora status. It was an image of elegance and evil all in one, to be judged at the preference of the viewer.

For some it could be a scene of beauty, and others will see it as frightening. But for the man on the Kinto-cloud, it was found only to be foreboding, the before the morning time where light was on edge, and darkness still reigned. Where any accident might cause you to skip the sunshine and fall to the shadow of an afterlife sleep.

All these morbid thoughts crackled through Goku's head as he rode on a straight line toward the broken-down Capsule House towards his tryst. His eyes were totally devoid of all the good humor they normally held, and his mouth was rigid in a fixed scowl. He was in battle mode, a hyper-focused attitude where every sense was enhanced, where blades of grass were separate and articulate, and where whispers were as loud as bull horns. It was a superhuman shell where all answers were clear and all fear was vanquished, except when it wasn't.

Goku was scared out of his mind. Not by any fear of death; that was silly to him. It was that he had never done anything like this before. For him it was always about "winning the tournament" or "getting the bad guy." Be the strongest, and use your strength to "do the right thing."

But this had nothing do with strength. His muscles wouldn't help him one whit in this struggle, so it made no difference. Logically, it didn't have much to do with "right," either. This was a crazy stunt outdistancing any wild scheme he'd ever attempted, a stunt that was risky, and may just end up doing more harm than good.

Yet he had never felt more right about anything in his life.

He smiled grimly.

That's why he was here.

With his fear watered down a bit, Goku continued his flight over the plains, growing closer to his destination. On this, he lowered the altitude of his flight, preparing to land. He was coasting close enough to the grass that he cut a bare swath through it, sending green walls to either side in imaginary fanfare for his arrival.

He looked ahead through the displaced stems that wafted in front of him. Just beyond the next hill stood a familiar hardwood, with branches modestly stretching out to encompass the plants that thrived beneath it. Within the protective covering leaned a young man, with violet hair that shadowed his eyes. His demeanor was calm and patient, with an expectance that came with confidence in fate.

Goku bent his legs further on Kinto'un, preparing his jump. He waited a bit for the cloud to reach the tree, then leaped off, letting it zoom off in an arc to the sky, free from its master's will. It disappeared into the distance as Goku touched on earth, about one meter in front of the boy that was waiting from him.

Trunks raised his head, a cold gaze on his face. "So, you've arrived," he said in a deadpan voice. "You're going through with it, aren't you."

Goku met his hard look with one of his own, and nodded once in confirmation. Still, Trunks kept up his strange, malice free glare. "You don't have to, you know," he said, not moving an inch from where he stood. "There may be another solution that you haven't thought of yet. You still have time to back out."

"No, I don't," Goku said mechanically. "My path in life has led me here, and I no longer have any room for escape. I've got to hit this head-on."

Goku's granite gaze turned to stone, solid and cold. "This is what Vegeta wants." he explained, folding his arms. "Although there could be a different solution somewhere out there, I owe him this much. For all the training he's provided me with, and for what this means for both of us."

Trunks stared down Goku a moment more. Then, slowly, his shoulders relaxed, and his eyes closed. "That's what I thought you'd say," he sighed, lowering his head.

Goku's own eyes softened at the emotion, though they remained as steadfast as ever. "Trunks, I'm sorry," he told him in a kinder voice. "I know…what a mess this must be you."

But Trunks only shook his head. "You just do what you feel in your heart, Goku," he said, opening his eyes again. "That's the most any of us can do in our lives. You've taught me that, more than anyone else I've known."

Goku regarded this with a brief shake of the head, unfolding his arms. But anything he was about to say was lost as a bright flare of energy lit up the dark field. Both men turned to the source of this light, only to view the image of a man, wreathed in gold, with an intensity that could be felt even from here. He was waiting.

Trunks turned back to Goku, and pointed his thumb to the distant figure. "Your future awaits," he said, and lowered his arm. "Good luck." Then he closed his eyes, and leaned back against the tree once again.

Goku smiled briefly, and turned away from the boy, walking past the tree towards the light. His pace was even and solid, and his fists were clenched hard, fingernails digging into his palms. Taking small breaths of air, the fighter walked through the grass, the blades pressing against his pants, continuing onward to destiny.

To his left, he could see three figures out of the corner of his eyes: Oolong, Yamcha, and Puar. All of them had eyes wide staring mindlessly at Goku, disbelieving the very sight of him. Although they knew he was here, and knew why he was here, they still couldn't really believe the truth before them, or at least not enough to pick their jaws off the ground.

(Guess you guys never thought I had it in me, did you?) Goku thought, an ironic chuckle coming to his lips. Once again, he had managed to see humor in the face of danger. Although he knew exactly what he was getting into, he couldn't help finding their faces a bit funny, probably because he'd be exactly the same way, were he in their shoes. He didn't even know if he believed it himself.

But the time was over for doubts. For ten meters away stood the man of gold. His features were more visible now: sharp eyes, sharp nose, and a scowl like a gilded sword. The fire of destiny burned through his form, scalding the world around him with the change of time. And all this was meant for him.

Goku stared at his opponent, the smile now gone from his face. He pulled his hands up and wrung all cracks from their joints. Very slowly and deliberately, he stretched each of his arm bands, making sure they were secure. Then he stopped, put his hands down to his sides, and tightened them once more.

He had to believe now.

For it was time.

*****

Bulma had had a bad day. For the entire time since Goku left, she had remained in her room, refusing to talk to anybody about what happened between them. She ate only a meager dinner and ended up staying for half that night, thinking about all the things that had changed since her childhood, as well as all that remained the same. All of this introspection had eventually tired her out, prodding her to finally fall on her bed and catch some rest.

When Yamcha had woken her, saying that Goku was going to fight Vegeta, she bolted out of the covers, despite the fast that she was wearing practically nothing. With the astonished man staring on, she threw a nightgown over her head, slipped on some mis-matching shoes, and shot out the door, not even stopping to put on her morning makeup.

"That idiot!" she growled in a shaky voice, moving through the grass in a mad panic. "That…moron!" Bulma increased her pace, breaking out of her jog into a full run. She bolted down the field at such a speed that even Gregory would've been impressed, and before long she was within ten meters of the two combatants, albeit wheezing from the brief sprint.

Had Goku blown a gasket? Flipped his lid? Whatever it was, Bulma had no idea something like this would happen. Sure, she expected some repercussions, especially after their little 'talk.' But going off and fighting Vegeta because of it…

Upon hearing two voices, Bulma shook herself out of her reverie. Goku and Vegeta were talking, in deathly quiet voices that could scare zombies back to the underworld. A bead of sweat fell down her temple, then she perked her ears to listen.

"Kakarrot, you've arrived," Vegeta said, his hands on his arms. "You managed to make it on time for once."

"Yeah, I'm here," Goku said bluntly, in a blood chilling tone. "Just like you asked."

"So, it's true then," The shorter one hissed, and Bulma saw his fists tightened enough to draw blood. "You are trying to steal my mate."

Goku made no move to deny it. Instead he kept up the same stoic stance he'd been in since Bulma arrived on the battlefield. "Vegeta, you know this battle means nothing," he said. "Whatever the results are of this fight, it won't change anything. It'll be just another victory, a sad one."

"I disagree," Vegeta's eyes narrowed in hatred for his adversary. "This battle will mean the end of our rivalry once and for all. It will finally prove who is the strongest Saiyan among us. And as for Bulma…" His lips twisted into an ugly, bloodthirsty grin. "Well, no dead man will be loving her."

Bulma's eyes widened with horror and realization. Goku and Vegeta weren't just sparring. This was a blood match, winner gets all and loser gets death. The white knight was about to confront the dark prince. And it was all over her.

In such a romantic circumstance stance, there was only one thing Bulma could do.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" she screamed, at a decibel high enough to shatter platinum. She stomped up to Goku, taking a stance that demanded an answer.

An answer Goku gave. "You know what," he said darkly. Bulma took a step back. He hadn't even looked at her. He just kept staring off at Vegeta, gauging his rival with an iron eye, like he had barely heard the question.

And that infuriated her. "You're…so stupid!" she yelled out at him, hoping to get some sort of reaction. "Do you really think this is going to solve anything? Do you think this will show that you're the better man? Damn it, Goku, you could get killed!" By the last word, Bulma was screaming at the top of her lungs, desperately trying to get his attention. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't do this and make me risk losing y…" She cut off the last word, putting her hand to her mouth, surprised at her own words.

The fighter turned his head, and Bulma leaned back, in case the nut was going to chew her out. That didn't happen. Instead he had a smile on his face, a pleasant little grin full of life and confidence. "Don't worry," he said, winking at her. "I'll be fine."

Then he turned back around, and Bulma could tell he had his battle mask on once again. But now Goku's posture was changing. His knees were bending, and his arms bent up at the elbow. His fingers curled into stubby claws, and his head was poised sideways, looking beyond his hand at the man he would be facing.

Then finally the full weight of what was happening hit her like a mattock.

Goku loved her.

He was fighting for her.

He could end up dying for her.

"Goku…STOP!!!" But he either couldn't or wouldn't hear her, for he sped straightforward towards his rival, who was following suit. Goku and Vegeta were running the ten or so meters that separated them, speeding up with every footstep.

As they got closer and closer, their arms cocked back, ready to slam into the other.

When they reached within touching distance, the fists shot forward.

And a bright flash of light radiated from where they stood.

Bulma could see them no more

*****

The martial artist leaned away from the hook veering towards him, and jolted back with a forward jab. Yet his move bounded against the other's forearm, and he was forced to step back from a high kick to his chin. He attempted a kick of his own, which shot to his opponent's stomach. But the man evaded his strike by pushing up with his one free leg, turning a backwards somersault that quickly gave room to maneuver. A bad situation, for the former had sacrificed a great deal of balance. And the latter had chosen that moment to move in with a lethal side kick.

Doing what he could, he fell backwards with the approaching limb, and caught the ground with one palm. Using his biceps and his momentum, he pressed against the earth for an instant, than released the stored pressure, shooting high up into a midair corkscrew. Inverted, he twirled like a drill bit, creating a wind force strong enough to carry him several arm lengths away from his enemy. Once he was far enough, he broke the technique, flipping his legs behind to land firmly on his feet, back in the same fighting stance he had when the battle begun.

Goku stood still in his new position, waiting for Vegeta to make the next move. His stance was unwavering, yet not rigid, like an ice cube in an oven, ready to melt once the heat was on. And by the offensive mindset of his rival, a burst of fire was to be expected. And by the accelerated twist punch that was heading his way, a burst of fire was to be avoided.

Jumping back from the knuckle, Goku lurched around into a backfist that came two inches from Vegeta's cheekbone. He then had to lower that arm into a shield against a groin kick, and had to move it sideways to slap away a face jab. Quickly swelling backwards, he managed to evade two rapid drops kick, landing just in time to deflect a combination hook, jab, and body blow, with precise movements from his left forearm.

Block, dodge jump, Goku moved away from every shot from Vegeta's ballistic barrage. He led the raging Saiyan on a winding path around the field, staying one short step of a blow to his head, thigh, or other vulnerable soft spot, always keeping him within appropriate distance for viewing the body as a whole.

This was his way. With every attack that Vegeta threw out, Goku gained one more tip on the fighting style his enemy had chosen. His eyes were constantly analyzing the angles and areas the moves originated from, searching constantly for an opening, a pattern, or any other information that could be utilized. Never launching an assault of his own. For the ones that strike first are the ones that will lose.

This philosophy always served him well with the majorities of challenges he had faced over the long years. But this time, he wondered if he should've reconcidered. Vegeta's attacks were getting faster and faster as he increased the strenth poured into them, and he wasn't tiring out either. Goku was forced backwards into a series of simultaneous blocks and dodges, trying his absolute best to keep up with the ongoing rush.

Dodge, block, block, the attack went on and on, and Goku was forced to exert more and more energy into defense. He had lost his concentration on Vegeta's style, and now he was focused solely on the bolting physical artillery.

Block, block, block, block, Vegeta was now grinning deviously, knowing he had the advantage. With every punch he threw, his knuckles got closer and closer to hitting his enemy's body. The moves were getting bolder and more random, forcing Goku to dance around in an almost frantic attempt to keep away from the danger.

With every punch he threw, Vegeta's gaze held its supreme confidence as he tried more and more exotic techniques. Crane punches, finger jabs, tiger slashes, they were all coming centimeters from Goku. He kept up, throwing scissors kicks and uppercuts, forcing Goku to continue weaving his web, which was now so sticky that the spider itself would get caught up in it.

And the nefarious fly was now laughing, throwing a kick, a punch, and laying off just a moment to launch a flying strike straight to the spider's gut.

And then the spider smiled. That was it.

Raising his arm from his last block, Goku flew upwards over Vegeta's body, letting the final kick pass beneath him. He looped in a half revolution, thrusting both palms to land on the descending turf and into a soaring handspring. Airborne and spinning, he turned on his side to land backwards on his feet, and proceeded with a series of reverse handsprings, moving him further and further away from Vegeta, still completing his attack.

Looping over and over, the Saiyan Slinky continued his acrobatics, trying to increase his distance from the other. Hands and feet met dirt over and over in this synchronized cycle, alternating with rhythm that percussionists could only dream of.

But Goku had decided that the song had gone on for long enough. Completing the pattern three more times, he gathered his force with the final meeting of shoe and grass. He bent down into a racers crouch, sliding backwards with strong inertia. Then he kicked off the ground, shooting him as a projectile twenty meters to Vegeta's skull.

Taken by surprise, the Sayian Prince whipped his arm around, just in time to catch the flying fist that would've hit his temple. Goku didn't stop there though. He kept up the attack, moving into a seamless collage of randomness with quick, decisive strokes that shocked his opponent out of his offensive. Like a lightning bolt he struck, moving in a zigzag of high and low punches and kicks, cracking whip-like against Vegeta's arms. He shot backfists and cresent kicks, ridge hands and palm strikes. Then, when he deemed it fit, he launched out with four consecutive spin kicks, each leg jettisoning outward as a blue, electric blur.

But upon the final attack, Vegeta grabbed hold of his leg with a quick lunge. Using Goku's own momentum, he spun the fighter around and around, much like the spinning hammer from Olympic fame.

And as soon as he peaked, he let go, and Goku was airborne by Vegeta's accord. Flying through the air, he struggled to regain control of his body. Finally, he bent his knees back, and slashed out with a lighting fast somersault, redirecting his flight back the ground and allowing him to land on his feet and back in his stance, instead of on his head and flat on the grass.

Goku breathed deep breaths, taking in as much of the nature sweet air as he could. The fight had barely started, and already he was sweating. He felt like he'd been out here for five hours rather than five minutes, and had to keep from washing his head free of the perspiration.

Vegeta, on the other hand, did not look tired one bit. On the contrary, he seemed quiet relaxed, in fact almost too relaxed, as if he had been playing with a kitten rather than a lion. He didn't even fall back into a fighting position; he just stood there, with his hands on his arms and his mouth in a smirk. Not worried in the least.

"You're…fast," Goku managed, eyeing his opponent warily. "Much faster…than I expected."

At this Vegeta smiled, letting his teeth shine against the small light that existed in the hellish battlefield. "My anger fuels me," he explained, narrowing his eyes arrogantly. "The desire to defeat you keeps me energized with unlimited power to crush you with. A power that won't stop, until you lie lifeless on this field, dead by my hand."

The shorter man snaked back into proper position, ready to start anew. "You should really take me more seriously," he chuckled, curling back to dash forward again. "I'll even let you use that idiot stick of yours to even things up, though it certainly won't save you."

Goku ignored his Nyoibo, keeping all his attention on his opponent. His hands stood cocked at the ready, to act as shields and swords all in one. He was still, complacent, still waiting for him to make his move

Then Vegeta launched forward, and combat began once again.

*****

On the sidelines, the spectators watched the flurry of action with an astonished gaze. They of course saw none of the complex maneuvers that the two fighters, performed, just a series of fading, translucent blurs. But what they could see were the immense oddities of the situation.

Goku and Vegeta. Fighting over a girl.

Oolong wagged his head in amazement. He'd always thought that Goku never had an interest in women, a fact he attributed to growing up not knowing what they were. Certainly he never seemed caught up in romance and the like.

Yet there he was. Putting his life on the line for the same woman he'd argued with all those years ago. Fighting with all the passion of some fairytale knight against a vicious dragon.

He sighed. That's life for you.

A startled breath awoke the pig from his thoughts, causing him to glance up. It was Yamcha, the only member of their group that could somewhat follow the events taking place before their eyes. Right now, his eyebrows rising like baked bread, and his mouth hung loosely downwards.

"Yamcha. Hey, Yamcha," Oolong whispered up to his friend, tugging on his pants leg. "What's going on out there?"

"I'm not sure," the observer said, keeping his eyes trained on the battlefield. "But something's not quite right."

"I'll say," Oolong grunted. "Just when you think you know a guy…"

"Not that, you dunce!" Yamcha snapped, giving Oolong the evil eye. "It's Goku's moves. He's not fighting the way he should be."

"Huh?" he gulped, his nervousness kicking in. "What do you mean? What's wrong with him?"

"He's not going Super Saiyan," Yamcha answered, anxiously gritting his teeth. "And Vegeta's been Super Saiyan for the entire fight. He's holding back too much power."

"What?" Oolong asked, raising an eyebrow. "But why would he do that? He'll lose if he keeps that up!"

"I know why." The pig and the man looked downwards, and were surprised to find the cat staring at the fighters, with subtle realization on his face.

"Goku knows he can beat Vegeta," Puar said, with wide eyes. "but he dosen't want to kill him."

"So, if he dosen't want to kill him," Oolong put his hand to his chin. "then he won't. But that means…" He suddenly gasped.

"Right." Yamcha nodded. "Goku dosen't want a death on the battlefield. But Vegeta does. Goku's."

Oolong looked at the two in shock, than he heard a voice behind him. He turned around, and was surprised to find Bulma on her knees, transfixed to the strife in front of her. Her eyes seemed glazed over and her body was frozen in horror. She didn't even see Oolong looking at her; she saw only the two men fighting.

"Goku…Vegeta…" she whispered, half deliriously. "Why…did it have to come to this…?"

*****

Barely avoiding the deadly concussion blasts, Goku vaulted twenty feet into the air, swooping head over heels to land about twice that distance from the gunner. Soon, he was forced to move again, launching into another aerial tumble that again missed the explosions by a hairbreadth. He kept moving, bounding like a grasshopper across the plain, desperately trying to avoid the rounds that his opponent shot towards him.

The battle had now turned into a projectile war, and Vegeta was letting loose with a volley of ki bullets. His arms pumped like pulleys, jerking back and forth to release bolt after bolt of yellow energy. It was a never-ending salvo of rage, and while Goku was no slouch when it came to firing a few shots, he was clearly the other's inferior when it came to large-scale blasting.

Goku took his next leap to fire a potshot from his hand, hoping to distract Vegeta for a quick second. He landed back on the ground, and used his arms to deflect the incoming shots away from him. They flew far and wide into the distance, skimming over mountains and crashing into trees with no regard. It was nuclear mayhem, and it was toiling on his series.

Then Goku saw an idea. One of Vegeta's blasts was coming at just the right point, so he bent his arm at the elbow in wait. And when the ball got close, he slammed his fist into it, sending it straight back at its shooter, who was forced to break off the attack for an instant to defend against his own attack.

With that momentary break in the barrage, Goku rolled into his own firestorm, sending a hail of white-hot gumballs at Vegeta's form. He used his arms as cannons, jerking them back and forth with the recoil. Firing onward, he kept up the tempest as long as he could, a heap of smoke and plasma starting to rise up from the repeated impacts. The gases kept expanding and expanding, forming into a hazy, blue cloud.

And when it was over, Vegeta stood tall among the fumes and ozone released, smiling with presumptuous satisfaction. He had blocked every one of the shots, and still, he didn't look too worn out about it.

Vegeta moved back into his battle position, ready to start another attack. Which he soon did, with great eagerness.

The battle dragged on and on in the same fashion. Goku tried every trick he knew of to best his rival, even going as far to employ old techniques like Zan-zo-ken and Kaio-ken. But no matter what he tried, Vegeta would brush it off, and fire a counter attack twice that power and more.

Goku landed back from Vegeta's latest attack, taking huge gasps of air to his tired lungs. His arms were worn and battered from too many collisions, and his legs ached with the excessive jumping he was forced to do. He was losing, badly. And soon, he wouldn't be able to take much more.

Then his mind clicked back on, and he remembered he still had one more left in his repitoire. With his entire body in pain, he bent back, and stood his ground. Then he started making the motions, large sweeps of his arms to end up together, with hands cupped into a small vase.

(Grandpa. Wish me luck.)

And with that thought in his head, he began his Hissatsu Waza.

"Ka…"

*****

Trunks craned his head to Vegeta and Goku, silent in his observation. He saw that Goku was already in the first stage of his final attack, and that this event would end the fight, one way or another. His arm rose, and his fingers stroked the sword's grasp, ready to interfere, should it be necessary.

He stood firm, ready to draw his weapon.

And when he saw Goku began the second stage, he slowly started to pull the blade from its sheath.

(No.)

"No," He forced his hand away from the hilt, closing it into a fist. "It's not time yet."

Trunks sighed, and lowered his arm again. Although it looked quite grim for his father and Goku, the spark of danger wasn't there yet. He would just have to wait, and let things take their rightful path.

He folded his arms, leaned against the tree, and resumed his vigil over the two.

*****

"Me…"

*****

Oolong, Yamcha, and Puar watched the growing fireworks, each of them with their own, different reactions. Yamcha viewed it with a sort of amazement and awe, while Puar shivered in the arms, holding onto the vest in near hysteria.

And, Oolong, he just covered his ears.

"Oh mannnnn…

*****

"Ha…"

*****

The blue light was growing in Bulma's eyes, and her heart turned loops in her ribs. She held onto her chest and took rapid breath of airs, struggling to comprehend all of the thoughts in her mind.

Her first meeting with Goku, the clothes he wore now that was so like that time. Vegeta's conquest on Earth, how his rivalry with Goku began. Goku's childhood, and how her feelings for him grew as he grew. Vegeta's oh-so-subtle interest in her, and his rage that exploded whenever "Kakarott" was mentioned.

Two different people, two different feelings.

This was to settle it.

*****

"Me…"

*****

The ball of energy was nearly complete now, Streams of light slid through his fingers, swirling around the field and shinning on the grass blades. The clouds collected the beams and distributed it with each other, and the night sky shone with the brilliance of full noon.

Goku knew the risks of using such an attack. He knew of the incredible energies necessary to keep it up, and how using just one blast could drain him to total exhaustion. But despite it all, something deep within told him that this was the path that he needed to take. All of his thoughts and feelings were fed into his palms, energizing his power of heart.

The new destiny he had chosen had come to a head.

(Bulma, if this dosen't work out…) He crushed the ball in his hands. (Then…I'm sorry.)

Goku grit his teeth.

Then, he released it.

*****

"HAAAA!!!!!"



Author's Notes: Part 2 will be coming momentarily.

Until next time, Ja ne! ^_^