We were divvied into thirteen pairs: Goten and Ubuu got regular opponents, as did I. Goku and Vegeta were matched together, thank Kami, which promised to be the most spectacular fight out of our select group of ki users. So would Piccolo and Trunks' match since they too were relatively even in fighting ability.

Piccolo and Trunks took the main stage first. Piccolo threw off his turban and cape and even from where I was standing in the fighter's pit I saw Trunks gulp. I don't blame him, I doubt he's had a genuine fight in years—his sparring with Goten couldn't compare to what Piccolo had in store for him. If Trunks had trained as hard as his dad or my Grandpa Goku Piccolo's chances to win would be almost nil. However, he didn't, so he would have to work to win his match.

They started off without powering up and engaged in breath-taking hand-to-hand combat. Trunks struggled to keep up with Piccolo's skills here; Trunks, like myself, didn't have all the technical know how, although his strength and speed stopped Piccolo from owning him out right. Piccolo knocked the Saiya-Jin into the air with a quick upper cut to the jaw, he then caught Trunks' ankle before he went too high and tried to throw him out of the ring. Trunks tumbled for a few seconds before he locked himself in mid air with sky dance. The crowd stared in amazement as Trunks hovered above the ground outside the ring. Breathing hard, Trunks looked terrified at how close he came to being beaten. He flew higher into the sky before exploding into Super Saiya-Jin. His power jumped exponentially, it was impossible to calculate precisely how much power he gained after ascending. Unfortunately, I sensed he wasn't any stronger than Piccolo. The Namek-Jin flew into the air, leveling off at the same altitude as Trunks and then he too powered up, his ki burning white-hot.

"Damn, Piccolo's pretty strong!" Goten said, standing beside to me and looking up at his best friend with concern.

I nodded in agreement, but wondered if Goten sensed Piccolo still hadn't powered up fully, he simply matched his and Trunks' prowess evenly. Piccolo shouldn't have been that much stronger than Trunks, though... it was startling. What I thought might be an interesting fight between equals was going to be a trouncing.

Trunks seemed to realize the same thing a few moments after I did. I saw it on his handsome face. His expression was a mixture of disappointment and resignation, but also determination. Trunks was a Saiya-Jin and the son of the Saiya-Jin prince; he wasn't going to lose without putting up a good fight first.

Trunks flew higher into the sky using super speed. He soared so high anyone without excellent eyesight or the ability to sense ki couldn't tell where he went. After a short period Piccolo followed after him. At first I wondered why Trunks decided to go so high, then I got a glimmer of what his strategy might be: I think he realized Piccolo was superior to him in hand to hand ground fighting and that would make it very easy for the Namek-Jin to throw him out of the ring. But higher up Trunk had more leeway to recover from Piccolo's attacks and height gave him a better chance to counterattack with little risk of touching outside the ring.

It was a good plan and I think Trunks lasted longer than he might have otherwise, but after three minutes of clashing, Piccolo sent Trunks rocketing to the ring like a diver executing a belly flop into a pool. I was already grimacing, anticipating Trunks hitting the tiles stomach first, but Piccolo Zanzokened in front of him and kicked him in the side. The Saiya-Jin guarded against the oncoming blow but the strike still sent him out of the ring. Piccolo used super speed again, this time materializing above Trunks and knocked him to the ground with a mighty two-fisted blow to the back. To his credit Trunks caught himself on his hands and knees and flipped to his feet, but he still touched outside the ring.

As the Announcer declared Piccolo the winner, the Namek-Jin landed in front of Trunks. The Saiya-Jin winced as he straightened up, his back apparently still stung from Piccolo's hit. They exchanged words I couldn't hear over the cheers from the crowd, then the two fighters shook hands and the crowd exploded into applause.

I wanted to run over to Piccolo after he and Trunks returned to the pit, but joined Trunks and Goten and Goku instead, and congratulated Trunks. I was proud he'd stayed on par with Piccolo as long as he did, and not only that devised the best tactic to use. We were all stunned when Vegeta came over and offered his son something analogous to congratulations before walking away.

I lost my nerve, I didn't go to Piccolo; I watched Goten and Ubuu's fights instead, though either didn't especially enthrall me. Then my match came up and I took the platform. Another blond, except he was handsome, and older than my last opponent. And familiar… His name was Kirano. He was one of the few fighters here with some ki ability, albeit a very small one.

I stood and watched Kirano inch towards me, his upper body locked in a defensive posture. He'd seen what I did in the preliminaries and was cautious. When he got close enough, Kirano struck out with an outer crescent kick, which I neatly dodged, but he was quick to follow up with a sidekick aimed for my neck. I jumped up quick enough that my body was already higher than his foot when it reached me. I landed on his leg, balanced daintily on his ankle on my tiptoes before bounding off and back flipping away.

This guy was fast; he caught up to me and tried to elbow me in the gut. I thought about dodging or simply taking the hit, since there was no way he'd hurt me with it. I didn't want to toy with him, though; Kirano was a decent fighter and deserved more respect than that. I put out my hand and caught his elbow, deftly turned him around and kicked him in the back and out of the ring. The crowd cheered for me as the on-site medics came out to carry Kirano away, I did a quick check with my senses and discovered he was only unconscious. Grandpa Satan jumped onto the platform, microphone in hand, and riled up the crowd, at the same time he managed to imply I inherited my skill as a fighter from him.

The following two competitors took the stage after that and compared to the previous fights their match took time to conclude. Then it was Goku and Vegeta's turn. The crowd had no idea the magnitude of this fight and there was barely buzz of excitement beyond normal anticipation of a match. No one remembered what transpired between to the two the last time they fought during the Tenkaichi Budoukai, except maybe the Announcer, whose voice trembled when he said Vegeta's name. I wouldn't have been the wiser either if Eighteen hadn' told me about Vegeta and Majin.

Grandpa had his serious face on, Vegeta's back was to me, but I was certain his expression reflected Goku's. One second they faced each other, still, powered down, then the next the air erupted. Brightness filled the air and wind blew hard over my face, bringing tears to my eyes; I never blinked. Goku and Vegeta escaped all my normal perceptions, except my sixth sense, and that was barely keeping up with the movement of the Super Saiya-Jin. I knew they were moving at ungodly speeds, and to my senses it felt as though they were everywhere. I gulped, and then bit the inside of my bottom lip. They amazed me, no doubt, and I could never hope to match such prowess, not now… maybe in another ten years, after intense training, but not now.

The Saiya-Jin appeared in the ring and the ground trembled. They'd fallen from the sky and landed hard, both their bodies awash in golden auras and their hair spiked and blistering yellow. Goku was on his stomach and Vegeta was over him, his knee in Gramps' back. Vegeta also had one of Goku's arms twisted behind his back up to his shoulder blade. Grandpa was growling, straining against the hold and wincing in pain.

For a moment I was scared Goku was beaten. That he might actually give up and tap out. But at the same moment I was fretting, Grandpa bent at the waist lifted his legs up until he got Vegeta's head between his feet then clamped his insoles against the Prince's neck. Vegeta audibly "gakked", but did not let go as Goku tried to dislodge him. Both men tightened their holds on one another; Vegeta pressed down hard into the impression his knee made in Goku's back.

"Kame…!" Grandpa cried out brokenly. What was he trying to do? Surely he didn't intend to use Kamehameha with his hands? It wasn't impossible, but Vegeta obviously held a superior position and the chances of hitting him with the beam… unless…

"Don't be foolish, Kakarotto," Vegeta said, grinning despite Goku's feet strangling him.

"Hame…" Vegeta's face was wiped clean of his smirk when he felt the ki gathering against his neck from Grandpa's feet.

Theoretically it was possible to use Kamehameha from your feet, but Krillin told me it was incredibly hard to do, especially firing a beam of any strength. My Grandpa didn't need the beam to be strong but I sensed the ki he collected was very powerful and would definitely hurt Vegeta. Vegeta jumped off Goku and into the air, Goku flipped to his feet and jumped after the Prince. They clashed in midair. Vegeta foot connected with Goku's belly and Goku's forehead slammed into Vegeta's.

Flying apart, Goku and Vegeta's breathing seemed strained as they hovered in midair facing each other. Vegeta had one eye closed, allowing himself only that act to acknowledge the pain he felt. Grandpa rubbed his stomach and gasped openly.

"Why don't you transform, Kakarotto?" Vegeta said, his face once again smooth and arrogant.

I was surprised to hear Vegeta dare Goku like that. Super Saiya-Jin "3" possessed godly power, and there was no telling how much Goku refined that level of Super Saiya-Jin during his long training with Ubuu. Either Vegeta had a plan, or he was plain suicidal.

"I ain't stupid, Vegeta, you won't give me the time I need."

Vegeta smiled. "You never know."

Goku streaked at Vegeta and they once more engaged faster than my eyes could see. Ki was like lightening every time their fists or legs landed blows, immediately followed by thunder. I realized it was getting even harder to follow them with my senses. I glanced at Piccolo wondering if he was having better luck. The Namek-Jin's eyes were closed, his head turning from one side to the other, like a blind man tracking a faint sound in a noisy, crowded space. I understood right away my analogy was a good one, because in a sense that's exactly what he was emulating; with his sixth sense plus his ears, Piccolo had all the tools he needed to follow the battle. Next, I looked at Trunks and Goten and they appeared as lost as I was. Ubuu had followed Piccolo's suit and closed his eyes as well. I sent him a nasty look he couldn't see, turned away and closed my eyes.

From there it was about sensing the Saiya-Jin and using my imagination. Vegeta and Goku, in my mind's eye, coalesced into dark silhouettes. It wasn't long before I could identify them by their unique life forces and those murky forms took on more detail. I could almost tell what moves they used by how much energy they expended from a punch or kick; generally a kick used more power than a punch. But I knew I only "saw" half the battle, since very often their punches and kicks went so fast they might as well been happening at the same time.

Their battle became earthbound once more, small plumes of dust and dirt on the stage so briefly marking where the Saiya-Jin feet touched as they traded blows. Then Goku and Vegeta stopped several feet from the edge of the stage and I opened my eyes; Vegeta and Goku had locked hands and strained against each other, legs braced and deep growls croaking from their throats. I was so focused on their faces and arms and I nearly missed what was behind Goku, down at his feet; what I saw caught me so off guard I didn't know rather to laugh or gasp. Vegeta was on his hands and knees, propped like a footstool, or something. I could see his face and his expression was so very less than thrill. The word indignant didn't begin to describe the look.

Another reason I almost missed the second Vegeta was that he had almost no ki to speak of; I estimated he was about as strong as a regular human. If I hadn't been looking directly at the double, I doubted I'd have noticed its presence. He was so weak it was like he wasn't even there. Then Vegeta's plan crystallized in my mind. It was ingenious, and Kami, I was starting to respect the old guy for it.

Vegeta, the one in front of Grandpa, made his power flare and his muscle mass doubled and he was able to push Goku back. Goku tried to adapt to Vegeta's effort by re-bracing his legs, but tripped over the Vegeta behind him. Uttering a bewildered cry, Goku fell off the stage landing on the ground so… non-dramatically and very disqualified.

For a long moment the entire stadium was silent, no one quite sure what happened. I looked at Piccolo and the others, and though they knew Vegeta used Shinoken I saw on their faces none of them believed they'd seen him use it. The crowd began to cheer, hesitantly at first as the confusion wore off, then more enthusiastically after the Announcer named Vegeta the winner.

Goten, Trunks, Piccolo and myself clustered together, each taking turns casting suspicious stares at Vegeta while he talked to Goku with the sourest expression on his face. Clearly he wasn't enjoying whatever Grandpa said to him. The four of us were trying to decide who'd go over and ask the Prince how he learned Shinoken? And two, since when did he use tactics like that to win a fight? Goku saved one of us from risking life and limb when he curled his arm around Vegeta's neck and dragged him over to our little group, Ubuu following discreetly behind them.

"Guess who Vegeta trained with, guys," Goku said, beaming at us with a big grin. Grandpa took his defeat in stride, he was probably more happy for Vegeta than anyone, including Vegeta himself.

"I did not "train" with--" Vegeta began, visibly trying to pull away from the taller Saiya-Jin.

"Tenshinhan!" Goku blurted out.

"Of course," Piccolo said.

"I didn't train with that, that human, Kakarotto! I… simply questioned him about the technique he used against Nappa when we tried to slaughter you all!" Vegeta spoke the last bit with as much potent ire as he could manage.

"Obviously you did more than discuss Shinoken," Piccolo said. "Tenshinhan taught you his technique and it won you the match. Such a simple skill created by a simple race." Piccolo's voice was deep and even, not a hint of mocking entered his tone, but still…

Vegeta threw Goku off hard enough to stagger him. He pushed past Ubuu and stalked away. Grandpa watched him go. "I wonder what's got him so mad?"

"He's used to overpowering his enemies with sheer strength, Son," Piccolo said. "I think he feels as though he's dishonored his Saiya-Jin blood, on some level, by using guile instead."

Everyone absorbed Piccolo's observation in silence. They looked so serious. It was like they understood that stupid mindset of Vegeta's and sympathized with his so-called plight, or something. I didn't. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

"He's crazy! That was probably the smartest move I've seen from… from anyone! Gramps didn't see it coming—it was brilliant!" I shouted.

"You don't get it. Dad going through the trouble of asking for help, any help, and planning that move, embarrassed him. He just admitted he's weaker than Goku and can't win any other way."

A year ago, hell, six months ago I would have been unrelenting and made sure everybody knew how idiotic that sounded. What did it matter how Vegeta won, as long as he did? To beat someone stronger than you, someone like my Grandpa Goku, you use everything you got, short of out and out cheating. What Vegeta did wasn't cheating, it wasn't even underhanded, it was inventive and unexpected—it's what battle was supposed to be at its core. But like I said, it wasn't six months ago and I've learned to curb the worst of my brashness; I kept my own council and hoped I didn't develop an ulcer.

I was still fuming when the Announcer called out the beginning of the second round of the semis. The gigantic score board inside the stadium flashed the names of the remaining six fighters and who was matched to who. I was so pissed it took me a moment to realize my name and Ubuu's were side by side. When it sunk in I was going to get my wish to fight Ubuu I began to feel the glowing rush of battle lust, everything before this moment in the tournament forgotten.

I glanced over at Ubuu expecting to see the glint of exhilaration in his eyes that I knew lit my own. The brown-skinned young man appeared utterly calm as he stared at the ring, contemplation the only expression on his face. Anger began mixing with my lust for battle. Anger that that he could stand there so unaffected… so unafraid… and he should be afraid, I was going to crush him. I'd hurt him if I could. Above all I was going to prove I was the better fighter and that Grandpa wasted his time trying to teach Ubuu, time he should have spent with his real family.

I missed whom the others were matched to, right then I didn't care. And once I heard Ubuu and I had to fight first, it truly didn't matter who Goten would face, or Vegeta, and not even Piccolo. Ubuu and I entered the ring. I mimicked Piccolo's actions from earlier and pulled my cape off over my head and tossed it away from the ring. I noticed when my cape hit the ground it landed with a louder thump than Piccolo's. The weights he'd given me were heavier than his.