Today I began a journey that
I wasn't sure I'd survive, and
if I did survive, I wasn't sure
what would become of me.
I hate time travel.
-Diary of Ueda Dazcha
The figure stumbled through the woods, guided only by instinct. He didn't care who was following - he only cared about one thing, his survival. He finally reached his destination: a small house in the middle of a clearing. As he stumbled through the door and collapsed on the hardwood floor, a young woman ran up to him.
"DAZCHA! What happened? Are you okay?" the barrage of questions from the woman to the man, Dazcha, were met with a groan.
"Well, he was attacking some small town," Dazcha replied, "I tried to stop him, but he sensed my ki and attacked me." Dazcha gestured at a large bloodstain on his shirt, the remnants of his battle.
Seeing the blood, the woman ripped Dazcha's shirt off and inspected the large wound. Once she was sure that it wasn't infected, she headed over to a small box on the mantel. Opening the box, she removed a small bean - a senzu bean - and tossed it to Dazcha.
"That's our last one, so you may wanna lie low for a couple of months until we can get some more," the woman suggested, before pausing, tears welling up in her eyes, "Dazcha, we can't go on like this."
"I know, Pan," Dazcha replied, "But there's not much we can do about it, I'm not strong enough to defeat the beast, and with you sick and your mother worse than sick. there just isn't any other option."
"Yes, there is," Pan said, an edge to her voice, "And you know damn well there is."
"If you're talking about using the ChronoLeaper, that's no option. What if I completely destroyed the present?"
"As opposed to Cell destroying it? Dazcha, I'm not one to use blackmail, but you are giving me no choice. I found out that I'm not sick, I'm pregnant, and I'm scared, not for me, but for the future of our child. If you don't travel back in time to save your own unborn child's future, then I don't know what I ever saw in you."
Dazcha sighed, for someone that doesn't use emotional blackmail, Pan was an expert at it, "Fine, I will kill Cell while he's regenerating."
"No, wait until the morning. I don't know how long it will be until I see you, I want to spend just one more night with you."
And so, the couple, Pan and Dazcha begin their plans. The next day, nearby towns saw a bright flash of light and dismissed it as lightning. Had they investigated further, they would have seen a pregnant woman, tears streaming down her face, mourning the loss of the man she cared so much for.
"Take care, Toki no Senshi."
* * *
In a different place, a different time, a similar light was seen. Dazcha had completed his travel and was now in another time.
"Now all I have to do is figure out where and when I am," Dazcha muttered to himself. He knew that the computer built into the ChronoLeaper would fill him in, once it picked up the time lag. The problem was that depending on how far back he actually Leaped, it could take anywhere from five minutes to five hours. It would be much better if Dazcha worked it out for himself.
Wandering through the familiar, yet different, streets, Dazcha noticed a large stadium. There was a long queue outside the ticket gate, and Dazcha's eyes wandered to try and see some sign, something that would tell him what event was being held. No such luck.
"It must be some sort of specialty stadium. too bad, if I knew what was going on, then I could work out where I am."
Without warning, Dazcha's ChronoLeaper, which was concealed as a wristwatch, began to buzz. Finding his way to a semi-dark alleyway, where he could be alone, he activated the device, which displayed a number of 4-D holograms showing his position in time. A mechanical voice soon made its presences felt.
[Leap successful to minus eighteen years. Subject's actual age is seven years old. Today is Saturday. Snapback occurs in approximately 30.7616187 days. Scanning all media forms for local events.]
Dazcha sighed. A month - that's all he had before snapback occurs and he'll be transported back to his own time, whether he likes it or not. Unfortunately, Cell was almost fully regenerated at this time, so the chances are that Dazcha's attempts to destroy him could be useless.
[Scan complete. Mayoral Election in two days. Fat Yodellers' Concert tomorrow. Tenkaichi Budoukai today.]
"Hey, now that's more like it."
[The Tenkaichi Budoukai is by far the greatest martial arts tournament on Earth. Elite martial artists from all over the world, numbering in the thousands, apply to have their strength tested, to see if they qualify for one of the coveted 64 tournament positions. This year, not only is previous champion Mr Hercule Satan entering, but also his daughter, a former Children's Division Champion, is making her debut in the adults' competition. In what could become a showdown of local heroes, The Great Saiyaman has also revealed his plans for entering.]
"The Great Saiyaman. that's Son Gohan. Well, at least I know I'm in the right place." Dazcha joined the queue outside the ticket booth, only to find that the tickets had been sold out. Spying the Application Desk, he smiled to himself, "Well, there's always more than one way to get into these things."
He knew it was a bad idea, and that his entrance had an almost ninety percent chance of causing a major change to his future, but he also knew he had to see Son Gohan. he needed help. He approached the desk.
"Uh, hi. I'd like to enter for the tournament."
The lady behind the desk looked at Dazcha before turning away and speaking in a bored tone, "You? You look like a walking toothpick, and you think you can last against the man-meat that I've seen walk through those gates earlier? Your funeral, kid. Fill out this form and sign this liability waiver and you're on your way."
Dazcha looked down at the form. It seemed normal enough. Name, age, gender, weight. the normal stuff the officials need to know before a martial arts tournament. A few minutes later, the bored woman was looking over the application. She paused when she got to his age, looked at Dazcha, and checked to make sure she didn't misread the application.
"Excuse me, Mr." she paused, glancing at the application form again to get his name, "Ueda, but it is illegal for you to sign these forms yourself if you are under twenty years old."
"I'm 25," Dazcha stated, "Check the form."
"I know it says you're 25, but you don't look it. I'm going to have to see some proof."
Dazcha paused. He usually had no problem with showing people ID - it was in his genetics to age slower than most people - but this was 18 years in the past, 13 years before his ID was issued.
"I left my wallet at home. Can't you just overlook it?"
"Sorry, but no. We had a bunch of kids enter themselves a few years ago and get seriously hurt, so we have to take precautions."
The woman behind Dazcha in the queue was starting to get impatient, although nobody was paying the slightest bit of attention to her. Queues were hard enough to put up with, but when you have two children with you, you should try to avoid them. Without a second thought, the woman decided to solve the problem herself.
"Uh, excuse me, is there a problem?" she asked innocently, as if she hadn't been listening to the entire argument.
The bored woman bowed and spoke in a polite tone to the somewhat-famous woman, "I'm sorry for the delay, Ms Briefs, but policy states that I can't admit this person unless he has a parent sign for him, or shows me some ID."
The woman, Bulma Briefs, wasn't listening to the woman's explanation, but was instead sneaking glances at Dazcha's application. She was looking attentively at the woman again before she noticed what had gone on.
"Perhaps I can help," Bulma suggested, "You see, Dazcha is my nephew. He's staying with me for a while, so I guess that makes me his legal guardian. If you don't believe he's 25, then I'll sign for him."
A few minutes later, Dazcha was walking around inside the stadium with Bulma and the two children at her side, who Dazcha could recognize as a young Trunks and Goten. "Thanks for signing me in, Miss. uh." Dazcha began, pretending not to know who Bulma was.
"Briefs, but call me Bulma, and don't worry about it," Bulma said with a wink, "I'll do anything to prevent staying in a line with two young children. Anyway, Dazcha, I'd better get going before all the good seats are taking. I'll be cheering for you."
* * *
Dazcha looked around, most of the fighters who had qualified were busy stretching and warming up for the tournament. Of course, Dazcha had no problem qualifying, although he had a harder time convincing the officials that the machine wasn't broken when it read 786. And of course, all the other Z Senshi, most of whom Dazcha had never met, had also qualified. It was almost time to draw numbers to decide on the tournament brackets.
"The Great Saiyaman," the announcer called, and Gohan, dorky outfit and all, made his way out to draw a number, "Number 7. Next up, Ueda Dazcha."
Dazcha stepped forward, out into the stadium and drew a number. In the stands, Bulma was watching the drawing with a pair of field glasses.
"Hey, that guy I helped sign up is up against Gohan," she told Chi-Chi, "I think he's a Saiya-jin."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, his application said that he was 25, but look at him, he doesn't look much older than Gohan. According to Vegeta, Saiya-jins age slower than humans, so he's either a very convincing liar or a Saiya-jin."
"I don't know what's wrong with kids these days, lying about their ages to get drugs and alcohol and enter tournaments. They're a bad influence on my Gohan. Maybe I should take him out of school and start home schooling him again. Goten's already proven to me that the school system is incompetent."
Back in the warm-up area, Gohan couldn't help but stare at Dazcha. There was just something about him as he casually pulled a capsule out of his pocket and clicked the button, throwing it to his feet. A rack of clothes appeared in front of him, and he selected an orange gi, not that much different to the ones worn by Goku and Krillin, from the rack and began changing.
That gi looks just like Otousan's, Gohan thought to himself, Except the kanji on the front and back are different. Master Roshi didn't train him, and that definitely isn't King Kai, Kami or Piccolo. it almost looks like my surname*.
Dazcha was soon dressed in his gi and carefully wrapping a tail around his waist. He has a tail! Gohan almost shouted it out loud, He's a Saiya-jin! But Saiya-jin space pods hit the ground at such speeds. I'm sure I would have felt him arrive. So where did he come from?
"And next we have the Great Saiyaman vs. Ueda Dazcha. This is the debut of both these fighters, although I'm sure that you all know all about the Great Saiyaman." the announcer rambled on. Gohan caught Dazcha's eye.
"Well, I expect a good fight, Gohan."
*The reference to the kanji is to show who trained Dazcha. For example, Krillin was trained by Master Roshi, and as such has the kanji for "turtle" (kame) on his gi. Goku has the turtle on the front and the symbol on the back tends to alternate between King Kai, Kami (God), and one that I can't recognize. For Dazcha to have the kanji for Son on his gi shows that it was a member of the Son family that trained him
I wasn't sure I'd survive, and
if I did survive, I wasn't sure
what would become of me.
I hate time travel.
-Diary of Ueda Dazcha
The figure stumbled through the woods, guided only by instinct. He didn't care who was following - he only cared about one thing, his survival. He finally reached his destination: a small house in the middle of a clearing. As he stumbled through the door and collapsed on the hardwood floor, a young woman ran up to him.
"DAZCHA! What happened? Are you okay?" the barrage of questions from the woman to the man, Dazcha, were met with a groan.
"Well, he was attacking some small town," Dazcha replied, "I tried to stop him, but he sensed my ki and attacked me." Dazcha gestured at a large bloodstain on his shirt, the remnants of his battle.
Seeing the blood, the woman ripped Dazcha's shirt off and inspected the large wound. Once she was sure that it wasn't infected, she headed over to a small box on the mantel. Opening the box, she removed a small bean - a senzu bean - and tossed it to Dazcha.
"That's our last one, so you may wanna lie low for a couple of months until we can get some more," the woman suggested, before pausing, tears welling up in her eyes, "Dazcha, we can't go on like this."
"I know, Pan," Dazcha replied, "But there's not much we can do about it, I'm not strong enough to defeat the beast, and with you sick and your mother worse than sick. there just isn't any other option."
"Yes, there is," Pan said, an edge to her voice, "And you know damn well there is."
"If you're talking about using the ChronoLeaper, that's no option. What if I completely destroyed the present?"
"As opposed to Cell destroying it? Dazcha, I'm not one to use blackmail, but you are giving me no choice. I found out that I'm not sick, I'm pregnant, and I'm scared, not for me, but for the future of our child. If you don't travel back in time to save your own unborn child's future, then I don't know what I ever saw in you."
Dazcha sighed, for someone that doesn't use emotional blackmail, Pan was an expert at it, "Fine, I will kill Cell while he's regenerating."
"No, wait until the morning. I don't know how long it will be until I see you, I want to spend just one more night with you."
And so, the couple, Pan and Dazcha begin their plans. The next day, nearby towns saw a bright flash of light and dismissed it as lightning. Had they investigated further, they would have seen a pregnant woman, tears streaming down her face, mourning the loss of the man she cared so much for.
"Take care, Toki no Senshi."
* * *
In a different place, a different time, a similar light was seen. Dazcha had completed his travel and was now in another time.
"Now all I have to do is figure out where and when I am," Dazcha muttered to himself. He knew that the computer built into the ChronoLeaper would fill him in, once it picked up the time lag. The problem was that depending on how far back he actually Leaped, it could take anywhere from five minutes to five hours. It would be much better if Dazcha worked it out for himself.
Wandering through the familiar, yet different, streets, Dazcha noticed a large stadium. There was a long queue outside the ticket gate, and Dazcha's eyes wandered to try and see some sign, something that would tell him what event was being held. No such luck.
"It must be some sort of specialty stadium. too bad, if I knew what was going on, then I could work out where I am."
Without warning, Dazcha's ChronoLeaper, which was concealed as a wristwatch, began to buzz. Finding his way to a semi-dark alleyway, where he could be alone, he activated the device, which displayed a number of 4-D holograms showing his position in time. A mechanical voice soon made its presences felt.
[Leap successful to minus eighteen years. Subject's actual age is seven years old. Today is Saturday. Snapback occurs in approximately 30.7616187 days. Scanning all media forms for local events.]
Dazcha sighed. A month - that's all he had before snapback occurs and he'll be transported back to his own time, whether he likes it or not. Unfortunately, Cell was almost fully regenerated at this time, so the chances are that Dazcha's attempts to destroy him could be useless.
[Scan complete. Mayoral Election in two days. Fat Yodellers' Concert tomorrow. Tenkaichi Budoukai today.]
"Hey, now that's more like it."
[The Tenkaichi Budoukai is by far the greatest martial arts tournament on Earth. Elite martial artists from all over the world, numbering in the thousands, apply to have their strength tested, to see if they qualify for one of the coveted 64 tournament positions. This year, not only is previous champion Mr Hercule Satan entering, but also his daughter, a former Children's Division Champion, is making her debut in the adults' competition. In what could become a showdown of local heroes, The Great Saiyaman has also revealed his plans for entering.]
"The Great Saiyaman. that's Son Gohan. Well, at least I know I'm in the right place." Dazcha joined the queue outside the ticket booth, only to find that the tickets had been sold out. Spying the Application Desk, he smiled to himself, "Well, there's always more than one way to get into these things."
He knew it was a bad idea, and that his entrance had an almost ninety percent chance of causing a major change to his future, but he also knew he had to see Son Gohan. he needed help. He approached the desk.
"Uh, hi. I'd like to enter for the tournament."
The lady behind the desk looked at Dazcha before turning away and speaking in a bored tone, "You? You look like a walking toothpick, and you think you can last against the man-meat that I've seen walk through those gates earlier? Your funeral, kid. Fill out this form and sign this liability waiver and you're on your way."
Dazcha looked down at the form. It seemed normal enough. Name, age, gender, weight. the normal stuff the officials need to know before a martial arts tournament. A few minutes later, the bored woman was looking over the application. She paused when she got to his age, looked at Dazcha, and checked to make sure she didn't misread the application.
"Excuse me, Mr." she paused, glancing at the application form again to get his name, "Ueda, but it is illegal for you to sign these forms yourself if you are under twenty years old."
"I'm 25," Dazcha stated, "Check the form."
"I know it says you're 25, but you don't look it. I'm going to have to see some proof."
Dazcha paused. He usually had no problem with showing people ID - it was in his genetics to age slower than most people - but this was 18 years in the past, 13 years before his ID was issued.
"I left my wallet at home. Can't you just overlook it?"
"Sorry, but no. We had a bunch of kids enter themselves a few years ago and get seriously hurt, so we have to take precautions."
The woman behind Dazcha in the queue was starting to get impatient, although nobody was paying the slightest bit of attention to her. Queues were hard enough to put up with, but when you have two children with you, you should try to avoid them. Without a second thought, the woman decided to solve the problem herself.
"Uh, excuse me, is there a problem?" she asked innocently, as if she hadn't been listening to the entire argument.
The bored woman bowed and spoke in a polite tone to the somewhat-famous woman, "I'm sorry for the delay, Ms Briefs, but policy states that I can't admit this person unless he has a parent sign for him, or shows me some ID."
The woman, Bulma Briefs, wasn't listening to the woman's explanation, but was instead sneaking glances at Dazcha's application. She was looking attentively at the woman again before she noticed what had gone on.
"Perhaps I can help," Bulma suggested, "You see, Dazcha is my nephew. He's staying with me for a while, so I guess that makes me his legal guardian. If you don't believe he's 25, then I'll sign for him."
A few minutes later, Dazcha was walking around inside the stadium with Bulma and the two children at her side, who Dazcha could recognize as a young Trunks and Goten. "Thanks for signing me in, Miss. uh." Dazcha began, pretending not to know who Bulma was.
"Briefs, but call me Bulma, and don't worry about it," Bulma said with a wink, "I'll do anything to prevent staying in a line with two young children. Anyway, Dazcha, I'd better get going before all the good seats are taking. I'll be cheering for you."
* * *
Dazcha looked around, most of the fighters who had qualified were busy stretching and warming up for the tournament. Of course, Dazcha had no problem qualifying, although he had a harder time convincing the officials that the machine wasn't broken when it read 786. And of course, all the other Z Senshi, most of whom Dazcha had never met, had also qualified. It was almost time to draw numbers to decide on the tournament brackets.
"The Great Saiyaman," the announcer called, and Gohan, dorky outfit and all, made his way out to draw a number, "Number 7. Next up, Ueda Dazcha."
Dazcha stepped forward, out into the stadium and drew a number. In the stands, Bulma was watching the drawing with a pair of field glasses.
"Hey, that guy I helped sign up is up against Gohan," she told Chi-Chi, "I think he's a Saiya-jin."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, his application said that he was 25, but look at him, he doesn't look much older than Gohan. According to Vegeta, Saiya-jins age slower than humans, so he's either a very convincing liar or a Saiya-jin."
"I don't know what's wrong with kids these days, lying about their ages to get drugs and alcohol and enter tournaments. They're a bad influence on my Gohan. Maybe I should take him out of school and start home schooling him again. Goten's already proven to me that the school system is incompetent."
Back in the warm-up area, Gohan couldn't help but stare at Dazcha. There was just something about him as he casually pulled a capsule out of his pocket and clicked the button, throwing it to his feet. A rack of clothes appeared in front of him, and he selected an orange gi, not that much different to the ones worn by Goku and Krillin, from the rack and began changing.
That gi looks just like Otousan's, Gohan thought to himself, Except the kanji on the front and back are different. Master Roshi didn't train him, and that definitely isn't King Kai, Kami or Piccolo. it almost looks like my surname*.
Dazcha was soon dressed in his gi and carefully wrapping a tail around his waist. He has a tail! Gohan almost shouted it out loud, He's a Saiya-jin! But Saiya-jin space pods hit the ground at such speeds. I'm sure I would have felt him arrive. So where did he come from?
"And next we have the Great Saiyaman vs. Ueda Dazcha. This is the debut of both these fighters, although I'm sure that you all know all about the Great Saiyaman." the announcer rambled on. Gohan caught Dazcha's eye.
"Well, I expect a good fight, Gohan."
*The reference to the kanji is to show who trained Dazcha. For example, Krillin was trained by Master Roshi, and as such has the kanji for "turtle" (kame) on his gi. Goku has the turtle on the front and the symbol on the back tends to alternate between King Kai, Kami (God), and one that I can't recognize. For Dazcha to have the kanji for Son on his gi shows that it was a member of the Son family that trained him