Author's Note: This is an idea. This is only an idea. If people like the idea, the idea will be continued. However, this is only an idea that I've had floating around in my head for a little while. You want the real meaning of this? Fine; the feedback I receive will determine if theis fic gets written or not. Thank you.
Disclaimer: DBZ does not belong to me. If I claimed that it did, then I'd be both a liar and a target for massive, painful, and expensive litigation. Thus, I openly admit that it does not belong to me. FUNimation owns it. Go bother them about licensing. Ranma belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, not me. Go bother her about licensing. I'm just borrowing everybody.
Flashfyre5 Presents
A Flaming Amarant Production
In association with Digital Wizardry Studios, Minnesota
Roshi's Story, Prelude: Wha-? My Story?
* * * * * *
The Spirit looked around Mimir's Well, taking in the modest gathering of Gods, Demi-Gods, and Greater Spirits that had gathered to participate in the Second Bet. Some timelines had already produced quite interesting results, even though the timeframe was only halfway gone. Smiling, the Spirit approached Mimir's Well, where a small red fox and a black cat rested.
"I'm here to make an entry," he stated flatly, his tail curling around his waist. The fox raised his head and looked him over. He wasn't particularly tall, standing at 5'8", but he was remarkable in almost every other way. His most obvious trait was a mane of wild ebony hair that hung well past his waist. His face was chiseled, as if from alabaster, and bore what seemed to be a semi-permanent sneer. He was well muscled, and wore a heavy breastplate complete with groin, thigh, and shoulder guards. Around his waist, wrapped like a belt, was a fuzzy, brown tail. Floating over his head was a simple, golden ring.
"Who're you?" Great Fox asked groggily. This roused Toltiir, who merely looked the newcomer over, then went back to sleep.
"My name's Raditz, and I'm here to make an entry," the man re-stated. Great Fox sniffed at his aura, then rested his head back on the ground.
"You're not strong enough to be a Greater Spirit. Go away," Great Fox commanded. Raditz clenched his fists, one of which held a blue rubber ball. The rubber squeaked, but he let up before it burst. Suddenly, in an explosion of noise, wind, and light, his black hair suddenly turned blond, and his eyes blue. A golden corona flared into existence around him, and he relaxed his grip on the rubber ball, lest he break it. The noise and light had caught Great Fox's attention, and even Toltiir had chosen to crack an eye at the display of power.
"How about now?" Raditz asked simply. Great Fox looked at him for a while, then nodded.
"Just as long as you don't make an apocalyptic timeline. We have... another entry that's done that just fine," Great Fox warned.
"Hey!" Shouted a silver robot from across the room, but he was ignored.
"Fine, take all the fun out of it," Raditz sneered, smiling. Great Fox hoped that he was joking. Regardless, Raditz flew above Mimir's well, clutching the ball.
"I already know what I want to do," he stated. "Put the baseline on top of the well, like oil. This ball represents my home timeline," he instructed. Great Fox was skeptical, but complied.
"Crossover or fusion?" Great Fox asked.
"Crossover," Raditz answered. "Hopefully, I can hit the bottom..." Mightily, he wound up, then hurled the ball into the well with all his might. It disappeared beneath the surface with a great splash and disappeared from sight, as the future of the baseline was altered in small, yet significant ways. Silently, Raditz waited, watching the pool intently.
"That thing is bottomless, you know," Great Fox commented, hopping on to the lip of the well.
"Nothing's bottomless," Raditz said. "It's impossible. Anybody'll tell you that."
"And changing the course of history is possible?" Great Fox countered. Raditz, knowing better than to attack a God, held his temper and his retort. Another tense minute passed, but Raditz didn't move an inch. Great Fox, by now, had returned to sleep, but Toltiir had sat up, and was watching Raditz with interest.
"What're you trying to do?" he asked.
"I want to be able to claim to be the first being to do something I thought of a while ago. Something that nobody's done, or even tried to do," Raditz said.
"Meaning?" Toltiir prompted.
"I want to change the course of a timeline in just the right areas so that it completely changes course, and joins another cluster," Raditz said, almost as if he'd rehearsed it.
"You mean that you want to use a crossover to have the same effect as a fusion?" Toltiir asked.
"Basically. I looked at the baseline, and if I add a few people from my world and change one person's course in life, I think that I can relocate it to my home cluster," Raditz said.
"Interesting. Who're you adding?" Toltiir asked.
"Goku, Piccolo, Kami, and a couple of others that just aren't native to the planet. That's my big splash," Raditz said. Suddenly, the rubber ball popped out of the well, ricocheted off the ceiling, and fell into Raditz's waiting hand. Toltiir whistled, which was an impressive feat for a cat.
"No many have been able to hit the bottom of Mimir's Well. Nice arm," Toltiir commented.
"I'm a Super Saiyan," Raditz stated simply. Toltiir shook his head, smiling.
"So, what did the other splash do?" he asked.
"Changed one person's life. Without him, Goku would've been killed, and Frieza would've eventually stumbled across, and destroyed, Earth," Raditz explained.
"Like in the baseline," Toltiir nodded. Then, he looked carefully at the pool, and the ripples that were coming from the splashes. "Well," he decided. "Whatever else happens, this should be interesting."
* * * * * *
"Kurillen, Eighteen, we're here!" Gohan called, his voice cracking just a hair. At fifteen, the young man could hardly help it. At his side, walking with a grace that few martial artists three times his age could muster, was Goten. Behind them stood Chi Chi, a smile gracing her face as well.
"Gohan, Chi Chi, great to see you!" Kurillen shouted, grabbing Gohan's hand in greeting.
"Uncle Kurillen, Uncle Kurillen, I'm here too!" Goten said, patting Kurillen's thigh. The short man let go of Gohan's hand and lifted Goten high over his head, the little five-year-old squealing all the way.
"So you are, kiddo. Wow, you've really grown," Kurillen said.
"Three whole inches!" Goten bragged. "Mama says that I've still got a lot to go, though."
"It's good to see you, Kurillen," Chi Chi said, smiling.
Kurillen lowered Goten to rest in the crook of his arm and replied warmly, "It's good to see you too, Chi Chi. It's been too long."
"Since Goten was born," she agreed, as Gohan slipped by the two adults into the house.
"I'm sorry. It's just that, well, seeing you brings back a lot," Kurillen apologized, ashamed.
"I'm just as guilty as you," Chi Chi disagreed. "I've been avoiding you, because seeing you and the others remind me of Goku. I still miss him..."
"Me too," Kurillen agreed, and the two were silent for a moment. Goten, deciding that there was probably more fun to be had inside, hopped out of Kurillen's arms and dashed inside. "Let's... try not to avoid each other any more. It makes me miss Goku to see you, but it brings back a lot of memories. Good ones," Kurillen finally said.
"I'd like that," Chi Chi agreed. Suddenly, an exclamation from inside shattered the sad moment.
"Wow! Auntie Eighteen, you sure are big!" Goten's astounded shout echoed.
"Enough with this sad stuff!" Chi Chi exclaimed. "Let's get to the real reason why I'm here."
"Right this way," Kurillen directed. "She's in the living room. Want me to get those for you?"
"No, I'm fine," Chi Chi said, picking up a pair of white paper bags. Together, she and Kurillen entered the house and made their way to the living room, where Gohan chatted with Eighteen and Goten rubbed her enormous belly, his eyes as big as saucers. "There's the expectant mother! When are you due again?" Chi Chi asked, smiling.
"Not soon enough," Eighteen replied sardonically. Even still, she too was smiling.
"You say that, but you wouldn't give it up for the world," Chi Chi accused, and Eighteen just shook her head, smiling.
"Two weeks," Eighteen said.
"Huh?" Chi Chi asked, confused.
"She's due in two weeks," Kurillen explained.
"It's still kind of amazing that Eighteen can have kids, huh?" Gohan said.
"Hey, kid, nobody was more surprised than I was when she told me," Kurillen exclaimed, and everybody except for Goten shared a laugh. He was still engrossed with Eighteen's engorged stomach.
"Kurillen? Eighteen? Master Roshi? Anyone home?" Yamcha's voice called from the front door.
"Come on in, we're in the living room!" Gohan called. Footsteps approached, and soon Yamcha and Puar had joined the others in the living room.
"Hi, guys. Piccolo and Dedne couldn't make it, but they send their congratulations," Yamcha said, plopping a roughly wrapped box onto the coffee table.
"Piccolo sends his congratulations?" Kurillen asked, holding back a laugh.
"Whatever. Dende sends his congratulations. Piccolo was too busy meditating, but I'm sure he would've if he'd heard me," Yamcha admitted, provoking another laugh from all present. Goten, though, just rubbed Eighteen's stomach.
"Wow..." he murmured.
"Like that, huh?" Eighteen asked.
"Yeah. It's really cool!" Goten agreed. Eighteen's smile grew a fraction of an inch.
"You know, Kurillen, this is probably the happiest that I've ever seen Eighteen," Gohan commented.
"Yeah, me too," Kurillen agreed. "Well, our wedding day came close, especially if you only count the night...," he said, inciting another round of laughter.
"Huh? What's he mean?" Goten asked, confused.
"I dunno, Goten. Probably an adult thing," Gohan said.
"Enough of this," Eighteen said once she had stopped chuckling. "This is a baby shower; let's get to the shower part!"
*** Three Hours Later***
"I don't think I'll ever find a use for all of this," Eighteen finally declared. Many drinks, all non-alcoholic, had been passed around as presents were opened and stories told. Somewhere along the line, Master Roshi and Turtle had wandered in and had joined the festivities.
"Just you wait," Chi Chi promised. "By the time your baby's a month old, you'll wish that you'd have gotten more!"
"I don't think we have room for more!" Kurillen declared, standing next to a freshly assembled crib that still smelled of varnish. "Wow, Gohan, this is really something. And you only used your hands?"
"Well, I did use a sander to smooth it out," Gohan admitted.
"That's incredible. I don't think I could build a crib, even with power tools, and here goes Gohan, only using his hands," Kurillen said, shaking his head. "You really are Goku's son, aren't you?"
"I certainly hope so," Roshi interjected. "It'd be awfully hard to explain his tail otherwise!"
"That it would," Gohan agreed, laughing. "Mom, have you been seeing anyone?"
"Not on your life, mister," Chi Chi huffed, upset. The amusement that had been spawned from Master Roshi's joke quickly died down.
"Geez, Mom, I'm sorry," Gohan said, seeing how hurt his mother was.
"Me too. I should've known better," Roshi apologized, bowing his head. Chi Chi was silent for a moment, fuming.
"All right, but I don't want to talk about Goku any more," Chi Chi sighed, a tear glistening in her eye. "It makes me miss him too much." Nobody could think of anything to say after this.
"Well," Kurillen finally said. "We've opened the presents, we've told the stories. I think that that's pretty much it."
"Not quite," Eighteen said. "There's still one story that I want to hear. His."
"Who?" Gohan asked.
"Roshi. I've never heard anything about his past. I want to hear about how he got started," Eighteen explained.
"Wha-? My story?" Roshi stammered.
"Come to think of it, neither have I," Kurillen said, cocking his head.
"None of us have," Yamcha said. "The first I heard about Master Roshi was when he and Goku first met."
"Yeah," agreed Gohan, nodding his head. He turned to look at Master Roshi, and the others soon followed suit.
"Well?" Eighteen asked after a minute.
"Well... are you sure you want to hear the story of some old, moldy martial artist?" Roshi asked, blushing faintly.
"We asked, didn't we?" Eighteen said, her voice flat and pragmatic.
"Don't have anything better to do for the next few hours," Kurillen agreed.
"Well, in that case, I suggest that you all take a seat. My story isn't exactly what you might call short," Roshi suggested, sitting down on a cushion and folding his legs underneath him. Kurillen plopped down next to his wife on the couch, while Gohan and Yamcha decided to take up some wall space and a pair of pillows. Chi Chi claimed the chair, but went to the kitchen to get some lemonade first.
"Let's see... I guess that my journey down the path of martial arts began when I was sixteen. Before then, I hadn't even considered being a warrior. I wanted to be an painter, or some other such nonsense," Roshi began as Chi Chi re-entered the room, carrying a tray laden with lemonade. Silently, she passed a glass to each person present, then took the last and sat down. "However, a young man moved into town and showed me just how wrong I was."
"Who was he?" asked Goten, who had decided to sit on his mother's lap.
"Well, I have to explain a few things before I really get started," Roshi said. "First of all, I lived in Tokyo, the Nerima ward. Second of all, I wasn't called Roshi back then, except by my closest friends. My real name was Hiroshi Kibigami."
"Your real name is Hiroshi?" Kurillen asked, surprised.
"Not anymore. I changed it when I came of age. I thought of it as a symbolic start to the rest of my life," Roshi explained. "Now, I had just recently turned sixteen when a martial artist came to town. He was incredibly talented. The only person that I know who's matched his ability to learn new techniques and just plain fight was Goku. Of course, he was only human, so there's probably hardly any comparison anymore."
"C'mon, tell us what his name was!" Gohan demanded.
"Gohan, manners," Chi Chi reprimanded softly.
"Yes, ma'am," he whispered. Undisturbed, Roshi continued onward with his story.
"His name was Ranma Saotome. He'd been training since he could walk, and had more stubborn determination than most mules, a good number of mountains, and more than a few of Saiyans I've met," Roshi said. "The day I first saw him fight... I'll never forget it..."
* * * * * *
"You think anybody'll beat Akane today?" Hiroshi asked. He was an average looking young man, with a skinny, but unmuscled, build and dark hair that was already beginning to thin. If asked, he'd furiously deny it, but there were far too much hair in the sink every morning for it to be any less than the truth.
"Nah," Daisuke Iwata replied. Daisuke was Hiroshi's best friend, and had been since before either of the two could remember. He was a little taller then Hiroshi, and had a more muscular build, fractionally. He had sandy brown hair and unusual, green eyes. Hiroshi suspected that his mother had had an affair with an American G.I. after the War, but he didn't ask and Daisuke didn't tell. "Kuno might, if he ever got over his 'go easy on her' kick."
"Which he won't," Hiroshi added. Daisuke nodded, and the two took up their usual places at the windows. "Here she comes," he suddenly said, seeing the horde of lust-stricken young men gathered at the gates begin their morning charge. Akane, a small blue figure, plowed into them, decimating the horde. Meanwhile, a figure dressed in red and black hopped to the top of the school wall and watched. Soon, the boys of the horde were lying flat on their backs, or stomachs, whichever way Akane had hit them. The figure dressed in red hopped off of the wall and started to talk to Akane, but it soon became obvious that Kuno wasn't about to stand for that.
"Who is that guy? Kuno's gonna kill him!" Daisuke exclaimed. Hiroshi could only nod in agreement.
"- Blue Thunder of Furinkan High!" they heard Kuno shout as he struck a noble pose. A crack of lightning boomed out behind him.
"... You think he planned that?" Hiroshi asked.
"With Kuno? Who knows. He might have a lightning machine or something; he is the richest guy in town," Daisuke said, shrugging his shoulders. Below, the figure in red said something to Kuno, which seemed to enrage the kendoist. He attacked, but the figure in red just dodged to the side, his body absolutely fluid. Kuno tried again, slashing through the perimeter wall this time. However, the figure had dodged again, this to the left this time. Again and again Kuno attacked, but the figure never once faltered, dodging the wild attacks flawlessly.
"Wow," breathed Hiroshi. "That's incredible."
"Yeah," Daisuke agreed, watching with rapt attention. Finally, the figure in red seemed to tire of the game he was playing with Kuno, and attacked him from above. The punch to the forehead, then vicious spin kick sent Kuno down hard, and the figure dashed inside, just beating the rain.
"That...," Hiroshi began, turning to face Daisuke. "Was the most awesome thing I ever saw."
"Yeah, it was pretty cool," Daisuke agreed, walking back to his desk. "So, are we still gonna try to knock that tile into the girls' locker room out today?"
"You can, Dai. I'm gonna talk to that guy," Hiroshi said.
"What?!" Daisuke nearly exploded, looking with wide eyes at his best friend. "We've been planning this for months! Don't tell me that you're giving it all up now, when we're so close, just to go chat with some new kid."
"I'm not gonna talk to him, Dai," Hiroshi said, feeling, for the first time in his life, like he had a direction, a purpose. "I'm gonna ask him to teach me how to fight like that."
"Huh?" Daisuke asked, confused. This didn't sound like the skinny, bony young man who had dropped out of kendo because he was too weak.
"Just seeing him out there, Dai... it was incredible. He was like water, ya know...," Hiroshi trailed off.
"Well, yeah, but he's probably been training for his whole life. You could never be like him," Hiroshi agreed.
"I don't care. Just seeing him out there...," Hiroshi said, shaking his head. "I know what I want to do with my life, Dai. I want to be a martial artist."
***Author's Note***
Here we go- my second entry into the Second Bet. I know that I should be working on The Opening Bet (sorry to all you who I kept waiting), but this story just found itself a spot in the back of my head and wouldn't leave me alone. In any case, if you guys liked it, as far as a beginning is concerned, E-mail me. If I get enough of a response, I'll continue the thing!
~Flash
Disclaimer: DBZ does not belong to me. If I claimed that it did, then I'd be both a liar and a target for massive, painful, and expensive litigation. Thus, I openly admit that it does not belong to me. FUNimation owns it. Go bother them about licensing. Ranma belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, not me. Go bother her about licensing. I'm just borrowing everybody.
Flashfyre5 Presents
A Flaming Amarant Production
In association with Digital Wizardry Studios, Minnesota
Roshi's Story, Prelude: Wha-? My Story?
* * * * * *
The Spirit looked around Mimir's Well, taking in the modest gathering of Gods, Demi-Gods, and Greater Spirits that had gathered to participate in the Second Bet. Some timelines had already produced quite interesting results, even though the timeframe was only halfway gone. Smiling, the Spirit approached Mimir's Well, where a small red fox and a black cat rested.
"I'm here to make an entry," he stated flatly, his tail curling around his waist. The fox raised his head and looked him over. He wasn't particularly tall, standing at 5'8", but he was remarkable in almost every other way. His most obvious trait was a mane of wild ebony hair that hung well past his waist. His face was chiseled, as if from alabaster, and bore what seemed to be a semi-permanent sneer. He was well muscled, and wore a heavy breastplate complete with groin, thigh, and shoulder guards. Around his waist, wrapped like a belt, was a fuzzy, brown tail. Floating over his head was a simple, golden ring.
"Who're you?" Great Fox asked groggily. This roused Toltiir, who merely looked the newcomer over, then went back to sleep.
"My name's Raditz, and I'm here to make an entry," the man re-stated. Great Fox sniffed at his aura, then rested his head back on the ground.
"You're not strong enough to be a Greater Spirit. Go away," Great Fox commanded. Raditz clenched his fists, one of which held a blue rubber ball. The rubber squeaked, but he let up before it burst. Suddenly, in an explosion of noise, wind, and light, his black hair suddenly turned blond, and his eyes blue. A golden corona flared into existence around him, and he relaxed his grip on the rubber ball, lest he break it. The noise and light had caught Great Fox's attention, and even Toltiir had chosen to crack an eye at the display of power.
"How about now?" Raditz asked simply. Great Fox looked at him for a while, then nodded.
"Just as long as you don't make an apocalyptic timeline. We have... another entry that's done that just fine," Great Fox warned.
"Hey!" Shouted a silver robot from across the room, but he was ignored.
"Fine, take all the fun out of it," Raditz sneered, smiling. Great Fox hoped that he was joking. Regardless, Raditz flew above Mimir's well, clutching the ball.
"I already know what I want to do," he stated. "Put the baseline on top of the well, like oil. This ball represents my home timeline," he instructed. Great Fox was skeptical, but complied.
"Crossover or fusion?" Great Fox asked.
"Crossover," Raditz answered. "Hopefully, I can hit the bottom..." Mightily, he wound up, then hurled the ball into the well with all his might. It disappeared beneath the surface with a great splash and disappeared from sight, as the future of the baseline was altered in small, yet significant ways. Silently, Raditz waited, watching the pool intently.
"That thing is bottomless, you know," Great Fox commented, hopping on to the lip of the well.
"Nothing's bottomless," Raditz said. "It's impossible. Anybody'll tell you that."
"And changing the course of history is possible?" Great Fox countered. Raditz, knowing better than to attack a God, held his temper and his retort. Another tense minute passed, but Raditz didn't move an inch. Great Fox, by now, had returned to sleep, but Toltiir had sat up, and was watching Raditz with interest.
"What're you trying to do?" he asked.
"I want to be able to claim to be the first being to do something I thought of a while ago. Something that nobody's done, or even tried to do," Raditz said.
"Meaning?" Toltiir prompted.
"I want to change the course of a timeline in just the right areas so that it completely changes course, and joins another cluster," Raditz said, almost as if he'd rehearsed it.
"You mean that you want to use a crossover to have the same effect as a fusion?" Toltiir asked.
"Basically. I looked at the baseline, and if I add a few people from my world and change one person's course in life, I think that I can relocate it to my home cluster," Raditz said.
"Interesting. Who're you adding?" Toltiir asked.
"Goku, Piccolo, Kami, and a couple of others that just aren't native to the planet. That's my big splash," Raditz said. Suddenly, the rubber ball popped out of the well, ricocheted off the ceiling, and fell into Raditz's waiting hand. Toltiir whistled, which was an impressive feat for a cat.
"No many have been able to hit the bottom of Mimir's Well. Nice arm," Toltiir commented.
"I'm a Super Saiyan," Raditz stated simply. Toltiir shook his head, smiling.
"So, what did the other splash do?" he asked.
"Changed one person's life. Without him, Goku would've been killed, and Frieza would've eventually stumbled across, and destroyed, Earth," Raditz explained.
"Like in the baseline," Toltiir nodded. Then, he looked carefully at the pool, and the ripples that were coming from the splashes. "Well," he decided. "Whatever else happens, this should be interesting."
* * * * * *
"Kurillen, Eighteen, we're here!" Gohan called, his voice cracking just a hair. At fifteen, the young man could hardly help it. At his side, walking with a grace that few martial artists three times his age could muster, was Goten. Behind them stood Chi Chi, a smile gracing her face as well.
"Gohan, Chi Chi, great to see you!" Kurillen shouted, grabbing Gohan's hand in greeting.
"Uncle Kurillen, Uncle Kurillen, I'm here too!" Goten said, patting Kurillen's thigh. The short man let go of Gohan's hand and lifted Goten high over his head, the little five-year-old squealing all the way.
"So you are, kiddo. Wow, you've really grown," Kurillen said.
"Three whole inches!" Goten bragged. "Mama says that I've still got a lot to go, though."
"It's good to see you, Kurillen," Chi Chi said, smiling.
Kurillen lowered Goten to rest in the crook of his arm and replied warmly, "It's good to see you too, Chi Chi. It's been too long."
"Since Goten was born," she agreed, as Gohan slipped by the two adults into the house.
"I'm sorry. It's just that, well, seeing you brings back a lot," Kurillen apologized, ashamed.
"I'm just as guilty as you," Chi Chi disagreed. "I've been avoiding you, because seeing you and the others remind me of Goku. I still miss him..."
"Me too," Kurillen agreed, and the two were silent for a moment. Goten, deciding that there was probably more fun to be had inside, hopped out of Kurillen's arms and dashed inside. "Let's... try not to avoid each other any more. It makes me miss Goku to see you, but it brings back a lot of memories. Good ones," Kurillen finally said.
"I'd like that," Chi Chi agreed. Suddenly, an exclamation from inside shattered the sad moment.
"Wow! Auntie Eighteen, you sure are big!" Goten's astounded shout echoed.
"Enough with this sad stuff!" Chi Chi exclaimed. "Let's get to the real reason why I'm here."
"Right this way," Kurillen directed. "She's in the living room. Want me to get those for you?"
"No, I'm fine," Chi Chi said, picking up a pair of white paper bags. Together, she and Kurillen entered the house and made their way to the living room, where Gohan chatted with Eighteen and Goten rubbed her enormous belly, his eyes as big as saucers. "There's the expectant mother! When are you due again?" Chi Chi asked, smiling.
"Not soon enough," Eighteen replied sardonically. Even still, she too was smiling.
"You say that, but you wouldn't give it up for the world," Chi Chi accused, and Eighteen just shook her head, smiling.
"Two weeks," Eighteen said.
"Huh?" Chi Chi asked, confused.
"She's due in two weeks," Kurillen explained.
"It's still kind of amazing that Eighteen can have kids, huh?" Gohan said.
"Hey, kid, nobody was more surprised than I was when she told me," Kurillen exclaimed, and everybody except for Goten shared a laugh. He was still engrossed with Eighteen's engorged stomach.
"Kurillen? Eighteen? Master Roshi? Anyone home?" Yamcha's voice called from the front door.
"Come on in, we're in the living room!" Gohan called. Footsteps approached, and soon Yamcha and Puar had joined the others in the living room.
"Hi, guys. Piccolo and Dedne couldn't make it, but they send their congratulations," Yamcha said, plopping a roughly wrapped box onto the coffee table.
"Piccolo sends his congratulations?" Kurillen asked, holding back a laugh.
"Whatever. Dende sends his congratulations. Piccolo was too busy meditating, but I'm sure he would've if he'd heard me," Yamcha admitted, provoking another laugh from all present. Goten, though, just rubbed Eighteen's stomach.
"Wow..." he murmured.
"Like that, huh?" Eighteen asked.
"Yeah. It's really cool!" Goten agreed. Eighteen's smile grew a fraction of an inch.
"You know, Kurillen, this is probably the happiest that I've ever seen Eighteen," Gohan commented.
"Yeah, me too," Kurillen agreed. "Well, our wedding day came close, especially if you only count the night...," he said, inciting another round of laughter.
"Huh? What's he mean?" Goten asked, confused.
"I dunno, Goten. Probably an adult thing," Gohan said.
"Enough of this," Eighteen said once she had stopped chuckling. "This is a baby shower; let's get to the shower part!"
*** Three Hours Later***
"I don't think I'll ever find a use for all of this," Eighteen finally declared. Many drinks, all non-alcoholic, had been passed around as presents were opened and stories told. Somewhere along the line, Master Roshi and Turtle had wandered in and had joined the festivities.
"Just you wait," Chi Chi promised. "By the time your baby's a month old, you'll wish that you'd have gotten more!"
"I don't think we have room for more!" Kurillen declared, standing next to a freshly assembled crib that still smelled of varnish. "Wow, Gohan, this is really something. And you only used your hands?"
"Well, I did use a sander to smooth it out," Gohan admitted.
"That's incredible. I don't think I could build a crib, even with power tools, and here goes Gohan, only using his hands," Kurillen said, shaking his head. "You really are Goku's son, aren't you?"
"I certainly hope so," Roshi interjected. "It'd be awfully hard to explain his tail otherwise!"
"That it would," Gohan agreed, laughing. "Mom, have you been seeing anyone?"
"Not on your life, mister," Chi Chi huffed, upset. The amusement that had been spawned from Master Roshi's joke quickly died down.
"Geez, Mom, I'm sorry," Gohan said, seeing how hurt his mother was.
"Me too. I should've known better," Roshi apologized, bowing his head. Chi Chi was silent for a moment, fuming.
"All right, but I don't want to talk about Goku any more," Chi Chi sighed, a tear glistening in her eye. "It makes me miss him too much." Nobody could think of anything to say after this.
"Well," Kurillen finally said. "We've opened the presents, we've told the stories. I think that that's pretty much it."
"Not quite," Eighteen said. "There's still one story that I want to hear. His."
"Who?" Gohan asked.
"Roshi. I've never heard anything about his past. I want to hear about how he got started," Eighteen explained.
"Wha-? My story?" Roshi stammered.
"Come to think of it, neither have I," Kurillen said, cocking his head.
"None of us have," Yamcha said. "The first I heard about Master Roshi was when he and Goku first met."
"Yeah," agreed Gohan, nodding his head. He turned to look at Master Roshi, and the others soon followed suit.
"Well?" Eighteen asked after a minute.
"Well... are you sure you want to hear the story of some old, moldy martial artist?" Roshi asked, blushing faintly.
"We asked, didn't we?" Eighteen said, her voice flat and pragmatic.
"Don't have anything better to do for the next few hours," Kurillen agreed.
"Well, in that case, I suggest that you all take a seat. My story isn't exactly what you might call short," Roshi suggested, sitting down on a cushion and folding his legs underneath him. Kurillen plopped down next to his wife on the couch, while Gohan and Yamcha decided to take up some wall space and a pair of pillows. Chi Chi claimed the chair, but went to the kitchen to get some lemonade first.
"Let's see... I guess that my journey down the path of martial arts began when I was sixteen. Before then, I hadn't even considered being a warrior. I wanted to be an painter, or some other such nonsense," Roshi began as Chi Chi re-entered the room, carrying a tray laden with lemonade. Silently, she passed a glass to each person present, then took the last and sat down. "However, a young man moved into town and showed me just how wrong I was."
"Who was he?" asked Goten, who had decided to sit on his mother's lap.
"Well, I have to explain a few things before I really get started," Roshi said. "First of all, I lived in Tokyo, the Nerima ward. Second of all, I wasn't called Roshi back then, except by my closest friends. My real name was Hiroshi Kibigami."
"Your real name is Hiroshi?" Kurillen asked, surprised.
"Not anymore. I changed it when I came of age. I thought of it as a symbolic start to the rest of my life," Roshi explained. "Now, I had just recently turned sixteen when a martial artist came to town. He was incredibly talented. The only person that I know who's matched his ability to learn new techniques and just plain fight was Goku. Of course, he was only human, so there's probably hardly any comparison anymore."
"C'mon, tell us what his name was!" Gohan demanded.
"Gohan, manners," Chi Chi reprimanded softly.
"Yes, ma'am," he whispered. Undisturbed, Roshi continued onward with his story.
"His name was Ranma Saotome. He'd been training since he could walk, and had more stubborn determination than most mules, a good number of mountains, and more than a few of Saiyans I've met," Roshi said. "The day I first saw him fight... I'll never forget it..."
* * * * * *
"You think anybody'll beat Akane today?" Hiroshi asked. He was an average looking young man, with a skinny, but unmuscled, build and dark hair that was already beginning to thin. If asked, he'd furiously deny it, but there were far too much hair in the sink every morning for it to be any less than the truth.
"Nah," Daisuke Iwata replied. Daisuke was Hiroshi's best friend, and had been since before either of the two could remember. He was a little taller then Hiroshi, and had a more muscular build, fractionally. He had sandy brown hair and unusual, green eyes. Hiroshi suspected that his mother had had an affair with an American G.I. after the War, but he didn't ask and Daisuke didn't tell. "Kuno might, if he ever got over his 'go easy on her' kick."
"Which he won't," Hiroshi added. Daisuke nodded, and the two took up their usual places at the windows. "Here she comes," he suddenly said, seeing the horde of lust-stricken young men gathered at the gates begin their morning charge. Akane, a small blue figure, plowed into them, decimating the horde. Meanwhile, a figure dressed in red and black hopped to the top of the school wall and watched. Soon, the boys of the horde were lying flat on their backs, or stomachs, whichever way Akane had hit them. The figure dressed in red hopped off of the wall and started to talk to Akane, but it soon became obvious that Kuno wasn't about to stand for that.
"Who is that guy? Kuno's gonna kill him!" Daisuke exclaimed. Hiroshi could only nod in agreement.
"- Blue Thunder of Furinkan High!" they heard Kuno shout as he struck a noble pose. A crack of lightning boomed out behind him.
"... You think he planned that?" Hiroshi asked.
"With Kuno? Who knows. He might have a lightning machine or something; he is the richest guy in town," Daisuke said, shrugging his shoulders. Below, the figure in red said something to Kuno, which seemed to enrage the kendoist. He attacked, but the figure in red just dodged to the side, his body absolutely fluid. Kuno tried again, slashing through the perimeter wall this time. However, the figure had dodged again, this to the left this time. Again and again Kuno attacked, but the figure never once faltered, dodging the wild attacks flawlessly.
"Wow," breathed Hiroshi. "That's incredible."
"Yeah," Daisuke agreed, watching with rapt attention. Finally, the figure in red seemed to tire of the game he was playing with Kuno, and attacked him from above. The punch to the forehead, then vicious spin kick sent Kuno down hard, and the figure dashed inside, just beating the rain.
"That...," Hiroshi began, turning to face Daisuke. "Was the most awesome thing I ever saw."
"Yeah, it was pretty cool," Daisuke agreed, walking back to his desk. "So, are we still gonna try to knock that tile into the girls' locker room out today?"
"You can, Dai. I'm gonna talk to that guy," Hiroshi said.
"What?!" Daisuke nearly exploded, looking with wide eyes at his best friend. "We've been planning this for months! Don't tell me that you're giving it all up now, when we're so close, just to go chat with some new kid."
"I'm not gonna talk to him, Dai," Hiroshi said, feeling, for the first time in his life, like he had a direction, a purpose. "I'm gonna ask him to teach me how to fight like that."
"Huh?" Daisuke asked, confused. This didn't sound like the skinny, bony young man who had dropped out of kendo because he was too weak.
"Just seeing him out there, Dai... it was incredible. He was like water, ya know...," Hiroshi trailed off.
"Well, yeah, but he's probably been training for his whole life. You could never be like him," Hiroshi agreed.
"I don't care. Just seeing him out there...," Hiroshi said, shaking his head. "I know what I want to do with my life, Dai. I want to be a martial artist."
***Author's Note***
Here we go- my second entry into the Second Bet. I know that I should be working on The Opening Bet (sorry to all you who I kept waiting), but this story just found itself a spot in the back of my head and wouldn't leave me alone. In any case, if you guys liked it, as far as a beginning is concerned, E-mail me. If I get enough of a response, I'll continue the thing!
~Flash