Blending In
14



Metal lockers slammed shut. Contestants chattered amongst themselves. Various scents wafted off bodies. People shifted around and bags zipped or unzipped. Clothes rustled and plopped on the floor.
Tonkeshin smiled to himself. He finished tying his belt and lovingly slid into the knee-length vest. Nail's vest, now his. It didn't fit him as well since his shoulders weren't as broad as Nail's, but the difference wasn't noticable to anyone who didn't know Nail. The leather-like material of the vest and linen of his baggy pants felt wonderful against his skin. Almost like he was home again.
It'd been awhile since he wore his full Namekian attire. Too long.
If only Nail could see me now. . .
Tonk swept a hand through his duffle bag, searching. He produced the petroleum jelly and went to work spreading a very thin layer over all exposed skin. Smiling when he noticed how dense his muscles had become.
Greg once told him professional wrestlers sometimes used petroleum jelly to give their skin a bronzy shine. Maybe it'd have the same effect for him, too.
Smack! A fist slammed into a palm.
"Yeah, I'm so going to beat all those losers!" said a growling voice from the far end of the locker room.
Grumbling answered it. Somebody uttered a rude word.
"Get real, Lobo." replied another competitor. "You'll just get smacked right out of the ring."
"Shaddup!"
"Asshole. Bite me!"
"You wish!"
"Grr!"
Tonkeshin closed his locker and unfolded his cane. Better to get out before the taunting got ugly. He'd chosen the first locker by the door, so getting outside without being noticed didn't take much effort.
That is, until he bumped head on into someone who wasn't watching where they were going.
Thump.
"Oof! Oh, excuse - hey, Tonkeshin! It's Trunks. How's it going?"
"Excuse me." He blinked at the voice, turning his eyes towards its source. "Hi, Trunks! I'm pumped. How about you? Where's Goten?"
"He's talking to his girlfriend. Every week he has another one." Trunks sounded displeased. "Pretty soon he won't want to hang out with me at all. The dork."
Tonk chuckled at the teenager's venting. "Ah, don't worry about it. Maybe he'll get tired of women once he gets dumped enough."
"Dunno. Well, I gotta go change and stuff. I'll see you later."
"Sure, see ya later."
Well that was interesting.
Tonkeshin let Trunks pass and continued on his way. He emerged into the sun's warmth. It beat down hard from directly overhead - it was probably around noon by sheer guessing. No way to know for sure, he'd taken his watch off and left it in his other pants pocket.
The place had magically filled up in the fifteen minute void while he was changing into his Tournament outfit.
People bustled by in groups. Talking, laughing and carrying on. Various food odors wafted into his nose. Shoes scuffed and tapped. Sometimes he felt the vibration of someone running. Occasional cameras clicked - he even posed with people for a few.
The calm order of the whole arena was gone. The sound shadows Tonk relied on were distorted by the presence of bodies, concession stands and decorations. Worse, he couldn't look around for a familiar face, but didn't want to advertise his being lost by asking strangers for directions.
He turned his head this way and that, trying to discern something familiar. His heart squeezed in on itself.
Now what?
"Lost?" Piccolo's scratchy bass came from the left.
Tonkeshin spun to face his savior, both relieved and embarrassed that he'd been found out. He extended a hand to confirm Piccolo's location and encountered a hard bicep less than an arm's length away. The muscle flexed, but didn't pull back.
"Yeah, a little." Tonk smiled sheepishly, "Sensing the buildings was a lot easier when it was quiet."
A monotone response, "Probably should've warned you about the crowds. Live and learn. Just stay with me and I will lead you to the right places at the right times."
"Hey, thanks! I feel safer around you anyway. Less chance of being tackled by love struck girls."
Brief silence.
". . .feh."
A small laugh rumbled in Tonkeshin's throat. Piccolo seemed to have even less experience with women than he did.
"Mmh." Piccolo rumbled. Tonk felt the swish of his clothes when he turned to face another direction.
Several powers of varying intensity brushed Tonkeshin's senses. Each throbbing in their own distinct rhythm like little bass woofers inside his head. He faced their sources.
The same powers I sensed on and off throughout the years, heh, how cool. They must've been the ones involved in the fights I felt over time. The fights Dende told me about. I guess that's what I get for ignoring the news stations during the so-called Cell Games.
One rose high above the others. It sent ice shards down Tonk's spine. Familiar, very familiar.
Saiyajin. No question about it.
Folds formed on Tonkeshin's nose. He felt his lips draw back into a snarl that bore his fangs. Elation became anger. That power. . .the last time he remembered feeling it this strongly was on Namek. When Saichirou's entire village fell victim to an attack.
I should've been there, but I was off gathering fresh water for the wounded a few miles away. . .how dare he show up here!
The ki reading came closer. Twenty feet. Fifteen feet. Ten feet.
"Nobody told me he would be here," Tonk's voice came out in a growl. He clenched his fists until his pointed nails dented his palms, blank eyes glaring towards the power. A knot grew in his stomach. Blood pulsed through the veins in his head. It roared and churned through his ears and behind his eyes. Boiling in rage. His anger wouldn't be contained! Not for this person.
Piccolo hedged, "Tonkeshin, ease off."
"No, it's Vegeta! That jackass destroyed my village!" He dropped his cane and leapt straight towards the high ki signature. "BASTARD!"
"What the?!"
WHAM!
A fist slammed into Tonkeshin's face, distorting it. The impact tossed him several feet backwards. He landed on his feet. Barely. His head felt light. Weight pressed down on him from all directions, forcing him to his knees. The world swam and disappeared.
Next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with blood oozing down past his ears and pouring down his throat, filling his mouth with a bitter iron taste. Instinct told him his nose was most likely broken.
Silence had settled over the area. People were standing all around, whispering. Piccolo's hands rested on his shoulders.
"Unh, where'd that disgusting Saiyajin go? Someone has to. . .has to stop him before he hurts someone else!"
"Stop it," Piccolo hissed. He punctuated it by squeezing down with his hands. "There is a lot you don't know about Vegeta now. He's here to compete and nothing more. Keep your anger off him."
Tonkeshin jerked upright, dizzy and groggy. Nausea almost robbed him of the water he drank earlier. Probably from all the blood he swallowed.
He focused solely on his nose for a moment. Feeling the cartilage rearrange back into its correct shape. The bleeding stopped. He exhaled forcefully to blast the remaining blood out of his nasal cavity and used a small ki wave to clean off.
Piccolo hauled him to his feet.
"He obliterated my village!" Tonk spat once he'd regained a vertical base. "Those who died at his hand weren't brought back! I can't let something like that go unpunished!"
"Yeah, but Vegeta's changed over the years." A tenor voice joined in. "It's a long story, but after leaving the fight with Freeza he made a home here. He's helped fight to save the planet quite a few times. Even got married and had some kids."
"Gohan speaks the truth." Piccolo stated flatly, taking his hands off Tonk's arms.
Anger melted to a tolerable level. Hard to believe, but Tonk figured that if they were lying, the strong powers would've gone after Vegeta as soon as he entered the area.
Ouch, his pride felt that one.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. Lifting his head with an eye winked shut, he rubbed the back of his neck and laughed, his voice coming back up to its usual baritone smoothness. "It's just an old sore spot. Egad, I guess I deserved a fist in the face for digging up an age-old vendetta like that, eh?"
Nobody commented.
Facing where he last heard the tenor voice, he extended a hand and said, "You're Gohan, right? I think Piccolo said your name. Well I'm Tonkeshin. What a way to meet someone."
A strong, slightly scarred hand closed around his and shook firmly. "Yeah, I'm Gohan. I heard about you on the news."
"Ah. You competing?"
"Nah, I'm gonna watch. Same with Krillin, Eighteen and Bulma, but they're not here right now. Off getting food. Er, Videl? Where'd she go?"
"With Krillin, Eighteen and Bulma," said Piccolo. "Bra and Maron are off looking at clothing. I thought I heard them saying they'd be back in time for the preliminaries."
"Oh, she didn't say she was going."
Tonk simply chuckled at the friendly confusion. He reached up to clasp his nose. Though healed, it was still sore.
Another voice cut in. This one definitely from an excited female child. "Ah-ah! It's the green man on TV! Hi, hi! I'm Pan! You really can't see me? Really?"
Laughing again, Tonkeshin lowered to one knee so he was more on Pan's level. He offered her his hand, "Nope, can't see anything. My hands see for me."
Pan's tiny fingers closed around his thumb. He gripped her arm and shook gently. She giggled, "It's like fighting with your eyes closed."
"Heh, yeah, I guess so. Ooh, your arm feels strong." Tonkeshin pretended to be in pain, grinning. "Ouch, you're hurting me! Ahh, no, I'm being crushed! She's gonna beat me for sure!"
Girlish giggling answered him. "Silly!"
"So, how old are you, Pan? Since you're so strong I just have to know."
"I'm seven!"
"Wow, you're almost grown up!" Tonk ruffled her hair and straightened. He always loved kids, they reminded him that innocence still survived in the universe.
"Hee!" Pan scrambled back over to where Tonkeshin assumed Gohan stood. "You're a lot nicer than grumpy ol' Piccolo over there."
Piccolo didn't comment. Tonk tried not to laugh, but in doing so he wound up snorting pretty loud. It made his nose ache again.
"Here." Piccolo cut in without regarding the teasing. "Your cane."
He took it gently, giving it a quick once-over with his hand to check for damage. All clear.
"Thanks."
"Hm," Piccolo rumbled, "looks like you'll have to meet the others later. People are beginning to gather by the arena. We should go."
"Okay."
Gohan rustled an article of clothing. "Sure. I'll come with Pan to make sure she'll be all right. Videl can catch up."
"Oh boy!" Pan hopped in place, her little feet pattering quietly on the pavement. "Let's go!"
Tonk straightened his vest. Someone stepped past him and spat at his feet.
Vegeta.
Avoiding an angry snarl took all the willpower in Tonkeshin's being. Keeping a straight face even more so.
Don't worry about him. He told himself, walking forward with the others and losing himself in his cane's rhythm. A smile emerged, Aside from Vegeta being here, this isn't to bad. It'll be fun! I wonder how the prelims will go. Punching machine or elimination fights? Heh, I'll find out soon enough.
"A word of advice, Tonkeshin," Piccolo's scratchy rasp cut into Tonk's thoughts.
"Yeah? I'm listening." But he didn't face him. If he did he'd drift in the direction his head was turned.
"Don't show your true strength right away. Vegeta and the rest of us don't want publicity. Some may still recognize us from the Cell Games because they were televised. If we pretend to be weak in the beginning, they'll think for the most part that it's just a coincidental resemblance.
"Everybody will assume you're part of our group because of your powers. I doubt you'd like it if reporters were knocking on your door every day until the next Tournament."
"Ah, good advice. But I've already had reporters come after me, remember?"
"Feh, that's nothing compared to what you'd get later. Trust me on this, Tonkeshin." Piccolo was looking at him, Tonk could tell by his voice. "Save it for the bigger fights."
"He's right." Gohan said from the right, "People are already staring at you. It'll just add more."
Nodding his head, Tonkeshin smiled. The stares didn't bother him here. For all he cared they were just watching a competitor walk by. "It's a deal. So what's it gonna be? Battles or a machine?"
Piccolo turned his head the other way. Looking over his shoulder, most likely. "From the looks of it, we will do both."
As always, his reply was short and to the point.
"Gah," Gohan snorted, "the Tournaments are getting so bogged down by regulations. Next thing you know, they'll make us compete over who can spit the furthest."
"Ew, daddy, spitting's gross!" Pan complained.
Gohan grunted, obviously picking her up. It didn't take him much effort. "You're right. It sure is."
"I'll make sure not to spit in your presence." Tonk smiled briefly towards her. "And Piccolo will, too. Right Piccolo?"
"Hmph!"
"Glad you agree. Now which way are we going?"
Piccolo stopped walking. "We're here."
Gohan came to his side with Pan. Tonk halted, noticing the powers of Trunks and Goten pretty far ahead.
He could still sense Vegeta. His aura stood out in the throng like the sharp point of a thumbtack poking up amongst mundane braille dots. Just waiting to tear into his sweeping fingers.
Tonkeshin removed his attention from Vegeta and stepped into the line with Piccolo, Gohan and Pan. Up ahead, someone was shouting through a megaphone. Telling everyone to line up in single file and wait for further instructions.
He still couldn't believe this was really the day. Cruel surprises aside, he struggled to avoid tapping his feet or jiggling his legs. Standing still did little with the butterflies in his stomach.
And soon, I'll prove to the world just what I can do. Heh, this is going to be great!
But a little voice inside Tonkeshin's head warned him not to get too jittery. I just hope I don't wind up competing against Vegeta right away. He's obviously out of my league. Losing in the first match would make me look more helpless than everyone assumes. I just pray to Porunga that I get matched up with people I can handle. . .and later on, Piccolo. That way if I lose, it won't look too bad.
"Excited?"
"Eh?"
Gohan chuckled, "You're grinning like a maniac."
"I am?"
"You are." Piccolo joined in.
"He's happy!" Pan added.
Tonkeshin's cheeks heated up. He eased his cane into the pencil grip and laughed raucously. It helped release some of the tension. "Excited is more like it. I can't wait to really get going."
"Soon, Tonkeshin." said Piccolo calmly, "Be patient. The more excited you get, the longer the wait will seem."
"Can't help it. But I'll try."
"Heh." Gohan chuckled, "Here we go."
And the line began to move.

Author's note: I'd like to thank SpecifywhatIsuck for bringing a plot hole to my attention. I hope I filled it in when Tonk recalled feeling the different powers at various times over the years, but mentioned not paying attention to the news. That should explain why he didn't know about most of it.

I don't have anything against Vegeta, but Tonk obviously does. Just letting you all know before people ask if I hate him or not. He's okay, but not a favorite.

Writing this fic is so much fun! I started out writing just for myself and look what happened. FANS! grins goofily Thanks to you all, Tonk has a life of his own now. I've started talking to him in my head. Honestly! He smacks me if I try to make him do something OOC. Pretty soon I'll have to ask his permission just to write about him. wink