The Universe, Nebula of God, Winding Tree Palace
Ten years. Ten years of borrowed time, Earth had been safe. But cataclysms could not be postponed forever. The inevitable would happen. And so it was. Within the Winding Tree Palace, the blue-skinned man ascended the steps at an even pace. Explosions rocked the top of the palace, and debris rained down, knocking down portions of the steps from behind the man.
He made a note to simply restore it later.
The staircase on which he walked led into the Palace's bedchamber; where rock formations floated, and around them were the familiar Alarm Bombs — hourglasses sealed in bubbles. The most striking feature of the room, however, was the monstrous cobra statue, of intimidating stature. Within its unhinged jaws rested yet another large hourglass, and the sand within this glass were rapidly falling, before hitting the bottom.
A deafening explosion rocked the room, as one of the Alarm Bombs went off unexpectedly. Multiple other Alarms followed suit, the entire room shaking as the structure began to give way. But Beerus, who slept on a floating formation within the room, didn't budge. The man who was ascending the steps walked slowly into the room, unhinged by the explosions; more than several thousand years of dealing with them, he had become immune.
"Lord Beerus!" His voice was refined, with an effeminate edge to it. "You've overslept, Lord Beerus! It won't do to ignore your alarms this way."
At most, Lord Beerus twitched, before rolling over and attempting to stay asleep.
"Lord Beerus~," the man said, his voice becoming a tad pitched. "I just got a new karaoke machine, and I would simply love to sing a song if it would rouse you."
This had more of an effect, and Beerus grumbled, scratching the side of his head.
"Well, if you simply insist," the man conjured a microphone and an accompanying machine from thin air.
"Alright, alright, Whis! I'm awake!" replied Beerus, amidst a few more late explosions. "If only to keep you from that horrifying screech you call singing!" Beerus forced himself to sit up, his eyes still closed. Rubbing them with the back of a paw, Beerus let out a wide yawn. Standing up, the humanoid cat paid no attention to his surroundings, and fell from a great height. He managed to land, still half-asleep, in front of Whis.
"And here, I was having a fantastic dream," grumbled the cat.
"We can discuss dreams later, Lord Beerus," replied the man called Whis. "It appears as if you've overslept; I'd say a bath after over four decades of sleep is in order, yes?"
The Hakaishin grumbled his assent.
Winding Tree Palace, Dining Hall
After his superior's bath, Whis had laid out an entire table's worth of food. With Lord Beerus' appetite, the table was almost as long as the room itself, and covered in a splendorous array of food. Beerus considered himself something of a connoisseur in the ways of fine food — the stone table had samples of dishes from multiple planets around their Universe, though not all the planets were still in one piece, Whis, as equally fond of food as his Lord, was able to replicate dishes from memory.
Beerus reclined in a chair, floating above the ground. He was clad in a white bathrobe, and looking over the delicacies that lie before him with great interest. He had forgotten his dream, at least for now, and who could blame him when food that looked this good was before him? At least, until Whis brought it up again.
"What was that dream you mentioned, Lord Beerus?" the blue-skinned man, slicing into the meat of an unknown creature, before preparing to serve Beerus a plate. Appetite or not, the Hakaishin still required manners, and Whis made sure to keep his table mannerisms befitting of a god.
"My dream?" replied Beerus, looking lazily at Whis. "Can't say I remember it anymore," he replied noncommittally. Changing the subject with the disinterest of a scorned cat, Beerus picked up a fork, jabbing it in the direction of Whis. "Say, Whis; that spoiled prince — what was his name? Ah! Freeza! — what has he been up to since I've been asleep? Did he ever get off his ass and destroy planet Vegeta like I requested?"
"Oh, the Saiyan planet?" Whis looked up from his work. "Yes, in fact he did. It was about forty-six years ago. I witnessed the destruction myself. Though I've heard recently that Freeza was killed."
"Freeza?!" Beerus repeated. "The very same Freeza? Killed? Did the Kaiōshin finally do something?"
"Oh no," replied Whis. "The Kaiōshin is far too busy right now, though he's only recently developed free time after washing his hands of the sordid situation with Majin Bū." Whis shrugged. "No; Freeza was killed by one of the surviving Saiyans. Talk about karma, right?"
"Talk about a kick in the head," muttered Beerus. "Freeza was killed. Funny thing was, I was just going to destroy him eventually. Never liked his attitude."
"Well, it would appear that little issue's been taken care of."
"Indeed, but by a Saiyan..." Beerus placed a clawed finger to his chin. "That is suspicious. But I'll push it out of my mind for now. After I eat, we're going on a patrol, Whis! It's been too long since I've destroyed something!"
"As you wish, Lord Beerus."
Mount Paozu, Shinma Dōjō
Away from the machinations of Lord Beerus, in the mountain villages of Mount Paozu, a new location had been erected within the past ten years. Closed off by a gate composed of stone and framed by wood, with a central opening gate dwarfing the boundaries on either side. Within the confines of this gate, however, was where the real treasure was held. Three buildings could be found here; a large central building that took up the most space to the left once one entered the gate. This was the dōjō, the heart of this location. Off to the right, the second largest building, a two-story dwelling. It was the main living quarters. There was a third building that was used for research, rather than living or fighting.
Within the interior, among the buildings, scattered trees grew here and there; wooden paths led from the dōjō to the living quarter, and items used for training regimens could be found on the outside as well.
Near the rear, it led into a large forested area of Mount Paozu, cutting off the residential area entirely.
To some, this might appear to be a castle. But it was not.
It was the Shinma Dōjō.
Run by Son Erasa, this was her life's work. It had taken seven years from the defeat of Majin Bū to establish her dōjō. She'd needed a handle on her life first; graduating from school and enjoying those youthful days with Gohan had been a priority. But once he'd taken an internship up at the Northern Capital — now the Metro North — their time together became less than it had been, and so she began to work towards her own dreams.
Under the guidance of Muten Rōshi, the girl had worked hard to formulate the teachings of her school, and though she would only lay the bare foundations for the first several years — unlike Tenshinhan and Yamcha, who had set up the New Crane and Turtle Schools earlier — the dream was never something Erasa let go. After she and Gohan had gotten married in Age 778, and the couple found their lives settled, Erasa began to set up what would truly become the Shinma Dōjō.
To guide a new generation of martial artists. Exposing both young and old to that new world.
Shinma Dōjō. Where New Leaves Breathe.
That was the mantra of the dōjō that Erasa had founded.
Within the dōjō itself, Erasa sat before a class of several students, all of whom who were beginners. She had grown well; the young girl was now a woman, but she still wore the same gi she had during the final battle with Majin Bū. Her face had the air of an older woman now, and she'd let her hair grow out to neck-length, keeping it well-maintained at this point. The students under her — children and teenagers, but even some adults were in attendance — observed carefully as Erasa placed her hands in the front of her body.
"To train in the martial arts of the Shinma School, you must first need to learn how to use your ki," said Erasa, her voice stern. "My level of training is not for the faint of heart, but once you have learned how to utilise this energy, you'll find that it will activate your body in certain ways. It's the only way you'll survive any sort of training with me."
"Is it really that hard?" asked one of the younger students, a teenage girl.
"The Shinma School's techniques deal in the fine control of ki, down to the minute level," replied Erasa. "You could even go as far as to call it the shape manipulation of ki, when it comes down to it. Being able to manipulate the shape, size, and intensity of your ki techniques on the fly are the basis of the techniques that I teach." With a deep inhale, she continued. "Now watch carefully. To tap into your ki, at least as a novice, clear your mind; focus internally. Search for that warmth in the centre of your body, and feel it build up. Focus on that. With your will, concentrate on that ball of heat within your centre; then siphon it out. Imagine a ladle, and draw it out little by little." Within her palms, a rotating sphere of red ki, spiraling between her hands.
"It's...it's like a star!" Another student gasped, witnessing the red glow with amazement.
"I had the same impression," said Erasa with a small chuckle. "I want you all to attempt the same thing. We can't proceed further unless you can do this basic exercise. Steady your breathing; ki control is accentuated through breath control."
Following their master's orders, the students began to practise on their own. The results were as varied as Erasa had first suspected. Not every person in the class was a natural talent — there were only a few who could call on their ki in the same manner she did, and even then, it was a flickering result at best that petered out and left them exhausted.
But Erasa was pleased to see this.
Students were so much more fun to train when they lacked conventional talent. She'd experienced this within the past few years. Of the many of the students who now took her advanced courses, the ones who had been the most fun to bring up to that level were the ones who struggled and fought to reach the top. The demonstration continued, and she watched as the students put their all into their efforts.
"But still, the fact that several of them have already tapped into their inner well of ki is amazing..." She thought as the lights within the palms of some of the students flickered back to life before fading. She remembered quite clearly that she'd nearly fainted the first time. The fortitude her students showed was amazing. After a few more tries, however, even those who hadn't managed to call forth ki were exhausted by the strain, and sweat beaded from their faces.
"No...luck..." one of them breathed.
"Not at all," replied Erasa. "For beginners, I saw better results than I could have ever expected," She smiled, and helpfully added. "I almost collapsed when I tried to summon my ki for the first time myself. None of you have anything to be ashamed of."
The students began to whisper. They couldn't imagine that she hadn't been able to do all of this easily.
Erasa detected a powerful ki arrive; powerful, but familiar. And a smaller ki that would have been blocked out if she didn't recognize it on the spot. The sensei smiled a gentle smile, and turned to her students. "That ends the practical lesson at the moment. For now, I want you all to focus your minds, and meditate. You'll find it easier to draw out your ki with mental exercises."
With the students acting on her instructions, Erasa herself exited the dōjō, and headed toward the living quarters; where she lived with her husband and daughter. Stepping through the door, she kicked off her shoes — no easy feet due to the wrapping — and left them at the entrance. A small ki signature rushed towards her, and Pen, who seemed to have a propensity for this sort of behaviour, tackled her mother. Erasa found herself far more steady, catching the quarter-Saiyan with a wide grin.
"Mama! Papa and I are home!" crowed the child excitedly.
Gohan walked over, smiling. "Are you taking on students today? I didn't hear the screams."
Erasa chuckled, picking up her daughter and walking over to kiss her husband. "It's a beginner's course today, dear. The screaming starts later."
"Can I join in, Mama?" inquired Pen eagerly.
"Sweetie, it's the beginner's course," said her mother pointedly. "Besides, your training is more advanced than any of my students; it wouldn't be fair to them."
"Aw, but—"
"You've got your own personal training, Pen," added Gohan, if a bit sternly. "It isn't right to infringe on someone else's."
"Okay," replied the child, a bit disappointed.
"I have to head back to my lesson," said Erasa, kneeling down to place a hand on her daughter's head, ruffling the girl's blonde mess of hair. She never could tell if it resembled Gohan or Goku's hair, but the spikes were certainly more Saiyan than Earthling. "Mama'll play with you after the lesson, alright sweetie?" She smiled cheerfully, and the four-year old nodded in affirmation. Erasa looked up at Gohan. "What'll you two do while I'm busy?"
"She's a bit gung-ho, as far as training is concerned," said Gohan. "I was considering paying a visit to Muten Rōshi; he hasn't seen Pen yet, and I'm sure he's still missing Dad. A visit every now and again can't be that bad."
"How's your mother feel about that?" inquired Erasa as she stood up.
"About as well as she feels about Pen training," replied Gohan dryly. Chi-Chi, when Pen was born, had a small fit about the girl taking up martial arts, which both Gohan and Erasa had approved of. She had been quite vocal about her opinion, and Gohan remembered it clearly in the back of his head, but it was doomed to be a lost cause from the start, when both of the girl's parents were martial artists, one by trade, and the other because he didn't exactly have a choice. Gohan sighed. "You know how she feels about Dad's friends."
"I was surprised," added Erasa. "I thought she'd relaxed about it."
"She'd relaxed about Goten and I," said Gohan, "not about her granddaughter. But Pen has a talent for it, and she's wanted to be just like you since she could talk."
Pen grinned widely, an innocent, childish smile from ear to ear. "You betcha! I'll be even stronger than Mama!"
"I know you will," replied her mother sweetly. She embraced her husband again, and made for the door, fastening her shoes back on before heading towards the dōjō. As she left, Gohan turned towards Pen.
"Alright! Let's go pay Muten Rōshi a visit!"
Kame House, Kame-Sennin's Island
Off the coast of the main continent, Kame-Sennin's island rested on the waters. It was more or less untouched, except by the Hermit himself, but he had made a few adjustments recently. Being friends with Bulma — his unwanted advancements not withstanding — afforded him some of the new technology she'd pushed out into the world recently, though the Kame-Sennin had been careful not to overload on it.
Overload being the key phrase.
He had made decent use of the MatterWave technology, and a load of electronics — his television set and refrigerator being examples — had been replaced with their MatterWave equivalents. He also possessed a MatterWave assistant, who took the form of a female that attended to the needs of the house. The Turtle had voiced some discontent with this, but Muten Rōshi had never been one to pay heed to his oldest friend's advice.
While Muten Rōshi was enjoying programmes on television that were certainly not suitable for part of an audience he was due to entertain, the elderly martial arts master felt a disturbance; a ki signature he wasn't familiar with. Leaning out of his chair, he groaned, and walked towards the screen door. Standing outside, on the shore of his island, stood a man dressed in martial arts gi, with a white covering over his face; only his eyes were exposed.
"Are you Muten Rōshi?" inquired the masked man. "The venerable Kame-Sennin?"
There was a brief silence, in which the sounds of the television bled mutely through the screen door. Despite this, Muten Rōshi answered with more seriousness than was custom for the casual old man. "Muten Rōshi, eh? Yep, that'd be me."
"Good," said the cloaked figure with some satisfaction. "Then consider this your invitation!" The man took a stance, and rushed the old master.
"Oh it is a bad time for this," sighed Muten Rōshi, preparing himself for this fight that was entirely out of left field. The figure struck with a powerful right hook; Muten Rōshi caught the blow with his wrist, bending it and deflecting the strike. His cloaked opponent wasn't deterred, and thrust a powerful kick forward. With the backside of his arm, Muten Rōshi parried yet still.
Turning on the offensive, Muten Rōshi increased his bulk — not completely, only partially — and he ducked below another incoming strike. With both hands, the Kame-Sennin struck his attacker in the abdomen, sending him hurtling backwards with ease. The cloaked man rushed against the sand, his back on the grains, before flipping into a crouch. The hermit looked down at the man, his expression serious, his eyes hidden by his sunshades.
"Is this any way to treat an old man?" inquired Muten Rōshi seriously. "You come to my island, attack with only a bit of warning, and don't even give a name. What's the new generation coming to these days?"
The cloaked figure up on two feet, and sighed. "You really are the Kame-Sennin," he said, reaching into his gi, and pulling out a slip of paper. He flung it towards Muten Rōshi, who caught it, all wind-resistance forgotten. "As I said, consider this your invitation." He lifted into the air, and began to fly from the island. He couldn't dally here all day. He had other Masters to target.
Muten Rōshi returned to his skinny state, and looked at the invitation in his hands. Is this how they do things now? He thought to himself. Turning to go back in, he felt another ki heading towards his island. But it was much larger this time, dwarfing any other ki he could imagine. In fact, it took the old hermit a moment to notice there was a smaller ki tagging along with it.
He looked towards the sky, and saw a brilliant light rushing his way. Contained within this light was the obvious figure of Son Gohan, and a small child who was trying her best to keep up. Gohan laughed. "Come on, Pen! You wanted to race! I know you can go faster than that!"
The blonde-girl was frustrated, and when they landed on Muten Rōshi's island, Gohan was the first to land, his business clothes avoiding a scuffing easily. Pen landed shortly after him, and she had a pouting expression, her lower lip sticking out as she puffed out her cheeks. "You're too fast, Papa!"
"You'll get there," said Gohan easily, turning towards Muten Rōshi. "How are you, Muten Rōshi?"
"Gohan?" Rōshi inclined his sunshades, taking in the form of the young man with some amazement. He knew Gohan was in his twenties now, but knowing something and seeing it were two entirely different things. The old hermit could feel it; Gohan had matured well. "It's been awhile! Look at how you've turned out! But...what's with the little tag-along? Did you take up a babysitting service?"
Gohan laughed, nudging Pen to come closer. "Muten Rōshi, that joke was only funny once! No, I wouldn't have the time to babysit anyway. This is my and Erasa's daughter! Pen, say hello!"
Pen walked up, grinning. "Heya, old timer! I'm Pen!"
The old hermit chuckled; Pen's informal way of greeting him reminded him very much of a young Goku. In fact, it was quite hard not to see the child Goku in the place of Pen. They were fond memories. "You're a spunky one, aren't you?"
"Uh-uh!" replied the quarter-Saiyan eagerly. "And I'm really strong!"
"Are you now?" inquired Muten Rōshi, intrigued. He looked up at Gohan. "I would have thought she'd be studyin' hard, like Chi-Chi had you do."
"She has an even balance," replied Gohan evenly. "It's difficult not to train when both your parents are practising martial artists. Besides, it was her decision; she's wanted to train with her mother ever since she was two. And she's not half bad."
"Mhm!" Pen nodded again.
"How about I give you a test?" Muten Rōshi's curiousity has been piqued. He looked at Gohan again, directly addressing the father of the child. "Give this old man a chance to move these old bones?"
Gohan gave it some consideration, and looked at Pen meaningfully. "Do you want to spar with Muten Rōshi, Pen?"
"Yep!" The girl nodded with vigor. "He looks real strong! Lemme do it, Papa!"
The half-Saiyan sighed, putting a finger to his chin. "Alright. But go easy on her, Muten Rōshi."
"You have my word," replied the elderly hermit. He and Pen took places on the opposite sides of the island, and Pen, ever respectful, placed her left hand over her right fist, and bowed. The Kame-Sennin reciprocated the action, and a wind blew across the island, kicking up sand. Inside the Kame House, Oolong and the Turtle had their heads poking out of the window, eager to watch this.
Gohan, acting as referee, stepped up to the side of the island, raising his hand into the air. "Let the battle begin!"
The sound of rustling sand filled their ears, as Pen made the move first. With her small frame, she proved to be speedy, dashing forward in a straight line at her top velocity. Closing in on Muten Rōshi, she felt her entire body slip forward, skidding along the sand. Forcing herself into a crouch, her blue eyes zeroed in on Muten Rōshi's leg, which was stuck out. She'd tripped.
"The one who strikes first wins, that much is true," said Muten Rōshi, without turning around to look at Pen. "However, to strike without judgement is the same as not striking at all."
Pen's cheeks puffed out in frustration, and her wide blue eyes became angry. Clenching her small fists, she dashed towards Muten Rōshi once again. When she got near enough, she lunged, but the Kame-Sennin side-stepped her easily. She landed on her feet, much like an angry kitten, taking another stance.
"Pen, remember your training!" Her father called out encouragingly. "Don't rush into things angrily, you'll only slip up!"
The quarter-Saiyan tried to heed her father's advice, and spread her feet in the sand. She raised her left hand up to shoulder height, flexing her fingers. Her right hand she let hang limp at her chest. Her expression was set, and Muten Rōshi was pleased; it was a stance he'd seen Goku take before. She was starting to think more like a martial artist now.
She stepped forward, and struck at the old hermit. Muten Rōshi slid his feet along the sand, avoiding each strike as Pen attacked. Her blows had ferocity behind them, and enough force to knock most grown men off their feet with ease. He felt the wind rip as she struck, surprised to see that much strength in so small a child. Tilting his body to the side, he saw as Pen's strike failed to hit its mark.
"Your style is too rough," said the hermit, leaping over another one of Pen's strikes, his eyes peering out from behind his shades. "There's too much wasted movement behind your blows. When you strike with your fists, minimize the movement of your legs. When you kick, keep your body grounded. I can read every move you make, little one."
But Pen was the furthest thing from a fool. A novice, perhaps, but not a fool. She spread her arms wide, and her body began to flicker. This flickering form split into three of her — three Pen's, each of them snickering and making a face towards Muten Rōshi.
"Oho!" The old hermit found himself impressed. "A three fold Zanzōken? That's an advanced skill for someone so young; but I know where you are!" He looked up, fully expecting an attack from above. It was the kind of manoeuvre that Goku would have pulled off as a child. And, without much surprise, Pen was rocketing downward towards him. "An aerial strike, eh?" Muten Rōshi stood his ground, waiting for the moment to strike. He'd promised Gohan he'd go easy on her, and he intended to. He wouldn't need more than a light breeze to knock her off her feet.
When Pen closed in, however, her cheeks were puffed out, and within a hair's breadth from Rōshi, she expelled a blast of air from her lungs with such force it was almost an air cannon. The blast stopped her before Muten Rōshi could strike, and the four-year old grinned, spinning a kick that struck Rōshi across the face. The blow sent him staggering back, and Pen landed neatly onto the beach.
"You're a clever little one!" remarked Muten Rōshi, rubbing his cheek. "I wouldn't have expected something like that from you!"
Pen was far from done; she crouched, cupping her hands at her sides. A blue orb of ki pulsated between her hands, spiraling and spreading its blinding light from the centre of her palms. "Ka...Me...Ha...Me..."
"The Kamehameha?! She can do that already?!" Muten Rōshi gaped, his sunshades falling slack on his face, jaw wide.
"...HA!" Pen thrust her arms forward, and a beam of ki erupted from her palms. It wasn't large, certainly nothing to write home about, but the thin blast rushed across the beach towards Muten Rōshi. The elderly fighter flattened his hand, pressing the back of it into the blast. Manipulating the force of the energy, he deflected the ki, sending it hurtling behind him into the ocean. The water exploded in a geyser, rushing into the sky.
"And let's call it a match!" cried Gohan from the sidelines.
The two parties relaxed their postures, Pen looking quite spent. Gohan walked over to his daughter, kneeling at her side. Her wiped some sweat from her brow, and was surprised to see that she was smiling in earnest. "Oh? Was fighting Muten Rōshi fun?"
"Yep-yep!" came Pen's reply. Looking at the aged man, Pen's blue eyes shone with eagerness. "You really are strong, old timer!"
Muten Rōshi chuckled. "Well, I haven't just been idling my thumbs on this island," (the Turtle scoffed, and Oolong snorted, but Rōshi did not comment), "and I'm more surprised by you! You're only a child, even younger than Goku was! But your ingenuity is remarkable. I can see the embers of talent in your child, Gohan. She's got a bright future as a martial artist ahead of her."
Gohan proudly smiled, standing up to his full height. "Thank you, Muten Rōshi." He said respectfully. "To be honest, I only meant to pay a visit, I didn't expect it to turn out like this."
"Neither did I," replied the hermit. "However, your visit may have worked out well for me as well." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the slip of paper left by his earlier visitor. "I can't be bothered to attend, but why don't you go in my place? Tell them you're fighting in my stead, hm?"
The half-Saiyan took the paper, and gave it a once over. "They sent you an invitation? That's...new."
Muten Rōshi explained precisely how he'd come by the invitation itself, and Gohan frowned. "I suppose that's a new way of selecting prospective fighters. With the world making so many changes, I shouldn't be surprised. In fact...Tenshinhan and Yamcha may have already received this very same visit."
"But if they're targeting martial arts masters and instructors, what about your wife?"
Gohan smiled. "She's not that soft; Erasa can handle someone of that level alone."
The hermit chuckled. "I'm sure you're right. Alright, come on in. I'll put out some tea."
Mount Paozu, Shinma Dōjō
At the Shinma Dōjō on Mount Paozu, another cloaked figure, bulkier than the one who had visited Muten Rōshi, was walking up to the gate of the Shinma Dōjō. Tightening the mask over his face, he let placed a hand on the heavy wooden gate, and pushed in.
The Shinma Dōjō; let's see if this Master is worthy of an invitation!
A/N: And here we are! Chapter 61! This chapter took me longer than I expected; I had to actually decide on a direction to take it. But, now that that's out of the way, here it is! I had quite a bit of fun with Beerus and Whis, and I hope you enjoyed seeing them in full for the first time. But what? He's doing his job? Damn straight. Erasa's doujou was also fun to put out. The design is an homage to the Ryōzanpaku from the Kenichi series.
I'm pretty much a fan of Muten Rōshi, so I hope you all enjoyed this little bit with him and Pen, showcasing that he is still a damn badass martial artists and Pen has a lot to learn. Unrelated, to the person in the reviews whose reviews I keep deleting — stop. I don't believe you'll listen, but stop. I don't take suggestions, I don't take requests as far as my story is concerned. The reviews section is not for you putting down what you want to see in my story, it's for your thoughts on the chapter. They're just spam otherwise. I'd reply to you personally but you keep reviewing as a guest. Thank you.
Thanks to Demod20 for proofing my story, as always! I'll see you all in the next exciting chapter of the Erased Chronicles!