Tenkaichi Budōkai, Hospital Wing
Trunks was currently resting in the hospital wing of the Tenkaichi Budōkai, laying down against the cotton mattress of a floating bed. In truth, the majority of 'hospitals' were quickly becoming what would have been considered clinics in the past. Bulma had made numerous improvements to medicine in the past decade through the use of the Senzu. By analysing that strange magic bean, and reproducing the essence, Bulma was able to produce multiple kinds of medicine to treat wounds and the like. Diseases were initially more difficult — as illnesses and scars were the one thing the Senzu could not heal — but by combining the essence of Senzu with traditional medicinal methods, Bulma had been able to creative cures for multiple diseases that worked within minutes.
So for Trunks, and many others, the visit to a hospital was merely a formality to ensure the medicine had worked correctly and there were no further problems.
And so his mother could give him a piece of her mind.
"Mother, I already apologised," said Trunks with a groan. The haggard form of his mother stood over him, wearing an expression of mixed worry and indignation. "I just…got caught up in the match."
"Trunks, that isn't an excuse for that sort of recklessness!" relied Bulma. She crossed her arms, bandage meeting flesh. "This Budōkai is meant to show just how far we can take battling, but it's still a controlled experiment! We have rules for a reason, and we didn't have a lethal force restriction, that girl would have killed you!"
"But—!"
"What am I supposed to do if you die?!" Bulma continued, cutting across her son with the ease of a knife through butter. "Dragon Balls can't solve everything, sweetie! I can't bear to see something happen to you after your father! Please!"
Trunks let out a defeated sigh. What was he supposed to say? In that one fear of Saiyan recklessness, he'd done his mother more harm than good. Looking up at her weathered face, he could see the dampness of tears mixing in with her exhaustion. Sitting upright, the teenager pulled Bulma into a hug. "…I'm sorry, Mother," he said finally. "I'll try to keep the recklessness in check, for your sake."
Bulma squeezed her son tightly, ignoring her bandaged arm in the process. "Thank you, son." The time would come when she knew her worries would be abated. When that day arrived, Trunks could embrace his Saiyan instincts freely. And she could feel secure.
Tenkaichi Budōkai, Battle Stage
The cloaked man and Yamcha stepped onto the holoplatform that lifted them towards the stage. The martial arts master of the New Turtle School and Kisua stepped apart from each other as soon their soles touched the tile, each assuming a side on the opposite section of the arena.
"FOR YOU TENKAICHI BUDŌKAI VETERANS, YOU WILL REMEMBER YAMCHA!" shouted the announcer. "ANOTHER STUDENT OF THE VERITABLE KAME-SENNIN, REVERED YEARS AGO AS THE GOD OF MARTIAL ARTS, YAMCHA HAS A HISTORY WITH THE TENKAICHI BUDŌKAI! WORD HAS IT HE HAS TAKEN UP THE ROLE OF A TEACHER HIMSELF! HOW WILL YAMCHA FARE IN HIS THIRD BOUT OF THE TENKAICHI BUDŌKAI?"
Yamcha scratched the back of his messy hair, smiling weakly through his thin beard. You say I have a history like it's a pleasant one... he thought to himself. But one can learn from every loss; for a martial artist to have a history of more losses than victories is a man who has had many more chances to learn.
"ON THE OTHER SIDE, KISUA IS A COMPLETE UNKNOWN! WHAT WILL THIS NEW CHALLENGER BRING FOR YAMCHA?!" The announcer spun his microphone in his hand, and snapped his fingers. "LET'S GO AHEAD!"
At the announcing cry, Kisua was the first to move. He raised two fingers, and red ki erupted from the digits in the form of continuous bullet fire. The spheres of ki barreled down the field directly towards Yamcha.
"KISUA HAS OPENED FIRST WITH A BARRAGE ATTACK!" crowed the announcer. "GLAD THAT ITS SOMETHING WE CAN SEE THIS TIME AROUND!"
Yamcha readied himself the incoming attack; his bare arms raised, the bullets caught him in the incoming explosion, smoke drifting behind him even as it concealed his form. When the smoke cleared, however, there was the slight shape of a wolf before it completely faded, revealing an unscathed Yamcha.
"AND YAMCHA IS UNTOUCHED!" shouted the announcer to high heaven. "I SURE WISH WE KNEW WHAT HE DID, BUT WHATEVER IT WAS, KISUA'S KI ATTACK LOOKS LIKE IT WAS COMPLETELY NULLIFIED!" True to form, Yamcha adopted the stance of the Rōgafūfūken, baring the "fangs of the wolf" with his palms. He was devoid, however, of any usual playfulness, and seriously glanced at Kisua. "You're awfully serious for someone competing in a simple Budōkai. Not in the same way as that Mifune either; what's eating at you?"
Kisua glared at Yamcha from beneath his cloak. Stonily silent, only a slight blue glint could be seen behind the shadow of his hood; his eyes, shimmering in the darkness.
"The silent treatment?" muttered Yamcha. "Not the first time I've been on the receiving end of that, but it's usually from a date." While he snickered at his own joke, Kisua's expression, if anything, became even more sour. Yamcha frowned sighed. A silent opponent was far from fun, but battle was battle regardless. "Shin Rōgafūfūken — Daiichiji!" His form took on the visage of a wolf, and Yamcha struck a blow forward. Kisua's entire vision was overwhelmed as a gigantifc wolf bore down on him. The arena was shredded, tiles dissolving into data; a furious gust of wind impacted into Kisua, who felt his body being forced from where he stood.
The gust died down, Kisua standing his ground to Yamcha's surprise. Now Yamcha did bring his grin forth. "You may not be much of a talker, but you're stronger than you look."
Kisua snarled, his body emitting a vibrant blue ki as he heard Yamcha talk. From the New Turle School Master's eyes, he knew that he had incited more anger into him by trying to act witty. He couldn't help it, the need to add levity to a situation that embroiled him with anxiety and nervousness. The secret surveyor discreetly admiring the spectacle could put them all through an instant nightmare but was told to act as normal; wasn't this as normal as he could be?
The cloaked alien dashed across the rampart, his blue eyes burning as bright as his aura as he engaged in physical combat with Yamcha. Reacting in kind, he began swinging and thrashing his arms in clawed like scissor motions to deflect the strong blows meant for him. Each strike avoided a heavy bruise, something no Earthling fighter could inflict on him since the arrival of the Saiyans; but his speed and tenacious assault kept him from returning the favor much.
With every swinging blow of his leg or clawed digits, the man whipped his cape around or concealed his true intentions before avoiding a stunning blow. He was able to read the more serious attacks that he wound up, giving him the air of an experienced warrior. But the more he clashed with him, the less ideal of a competitor he was. The intent behind his ki was embroiled with bitterness and rage; he could feel the grief ebbing from him as well as despair.
"Hey man, I know you might have some hidden baggage, but can you save it for off the ring?!" Yamcha cried out with annoyance, clawing both of the man's arms the moment they were exposed. Even as the man grimaced and was about to launch a kick towards his face, he inhaled deeply before letting out a loud kiai akin to a wolf's howl, making most of the viewing audience's ears ring and the barrier shudder from the sonic pressure.
The man was sent flying backwards, almost to the edge of the ring till a pulse of his life force stopped him on reflex. Dropping to the ground, he shook visibly, his obscured features burning with outrage as he finally spoke back to the master of the Rōgafūfūken.
"You're all pieces of work," muttered Kisua, his cloak ruffling in the wind. His blue eyes glinted hatefully underneath his hood. "I've got remarkably good ears, and I was listening to what that green was telling the lot of you. And yet you're letting this tournament continue?!"
"W-Wait, you heard that?!" Yamcha gasped, eyes widening. Piccolo had told them of Beerus' arrival in what they'd assumed was confidence. Outsiders had been at enough of a distance that the group had thought the information stayed within their clique, rather than traveled to a complete stranger. S-Shit...! This is the worst case scenario, isn't it?!
"Do you even realise how careless you're being?!" Kisua snarled. "This man — no, I can't even call him that — will wipe your entire planet off the universal map! And you're all sitting here playing your little games!"
"I get that it's a serious situation, but you need to calm down," urged Yamcha. "There's literally no reason to instigate something with someone like a Hakaishin here. If what you overheard is any indication, you should be taking extra precautions not to slip up and—"
"SHUT UP!" snarled Kisua. He coated both palms in vibrant purple ki and thrust his arms forward. The two spheres coalesced into a single whole, and the alien released a powerful blast of ki towards Yamcha. The Turtle School Master clenched his fist in the shape of a wolf's claws, and thrust it into the oncoming blast. "Gekirō!" He made a slight rotation of his arms, and the blast swelled before disrupting entirely, exploding violently. This was a basic counter technique that anyone with knowledge of ki could perform if they attempted it. Basic kikōha were fundamentally the same in terms of ki flow and muscle movement. To disrupt the flow of these techniques was far from difficult.
Kisua's obscured face worked with rage. "You all are the most careless, senseless species I've ever met!" He turned away from Yamcha, and turned towards the crowd at large. "EARTHLINGS! LISTEN TO ME!" His voice boomed throughout the stadium, as if he were somehow projecting it. His image came up on the HoloScreens, which had decided to focus on him, and they too adjusted the audio to project his voice. "YOU ARE SHEEP WHO HAVE LEFT A WOLF UNCHECKED WITHIN THE FIELDS! THE HAKAISHIN, THE SELF-PROCLAIMED LORD BEERUS, IS HERE WITH YOU ALL!" His face was brimming with fervor, and he continued to bellow. "HE IS A MONSTER THAT KNOWS NO REMORSE! HE SLAUGHTERS WORLDS! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK HE WON'T SLAUGHTER YOURS?!"
In the waiting wings, the entire Dragon Team watched in horror.
"What is he doing?!" Tenshinhan shouted indignantly.
"He's killing us all!" roared Piccolo.
"N-No!" shouted Yamcha. "Stop! You're not helping!"
"HE DESTROYED MY PLANET, AND ONLY I ESCAPED! I LEARNED TO FIGHT! YOU ALL HAVE LEARNED TO WIELD KI, RIGHT?! THEN TURN ON HIM!" Kisua ignored the warning and proceeded to preach to the crowd. "A GOD CANNOT BE ALMIGHTY! RISE AND KILL GOD!"
In the stands, the spectators began to mumble. A Hakaishin? Destruction of planets? Killing God? They'd just begun to understand the mechanics of ki, and Bulma's technological revolution had broken the limitations of their society, putting them out into the galactic society. So the idea of alien species and the like was easy to understand. But a Destruction God?
"That can't be a thing, can it?" asked a woman, looking over at her girlfriend with some confusion. "I mean, aliens are one thing; that's scientific. But a god? And certainly not a destruction god that sounds as heartless as this one!"
"Yeah, that has to be impossible!" replied the other girl casually. "This man has to be crazy, right? Maybe the planet he's from, people never learned the value of preaching the truth."
"Alien gods? Do you have anything more believable to preach while you're down there?!" shouted another spectator.
As the crowd continued to mutter their dissent and disbelief, and the man continued to preach his vitriol, Beerus' body began to let off a soft, purple glow. His arms were crossed, and his fingers were tapping his biceps violently. His sharpened teeth ground together, and Beerus' began to let out a growl. The Hakaishin's gigantic ears were not simply for show. While Kisua's irreverent shouting had been heard by everyone, he could hear every comment made by the Earthlings and their ilk. Every derisive statement.
Chi-Chi looked at Beerus in horror, her breath began to catch in her throat. She was speechless. The two men who had seemed so casual and friendly just minutes ago — if not a bit off-putting — had changed entirely. Whis' friendly expression had become distant as he cast an eye to Beerus, and the Hakaishin himself was exuding a demanding presence. She began to feel dizzy, and immediately checked the child sitting on her lap. Pen, however, was doing far better than she was. Her vibrant blue-eyes widened, glancing at the glowing deity.
Even the four-year old was feeling fear.
"Oh my..." Whis looked over at Beerus. "Are you going to take action, Lord Beerus?"
The soft glow around the Hakaishin began to increase in vividness, and he stood to his feet. Beneath him, the stands began to crumble and turn to sand. His yellow eyes narrowed, and the slits glared down at the stadium. The entire battling arena was filled with an incredible pressure. Despite the fact that no one in the stadium could feel this man's ki, the moment Beerus began to put forth his will, the entire arena felt it, and the duress upon the atmosphere was too much for a vast multitude.
Earthlings and aliens alike of weak constitution fainted. Many who could remain conscious simply soiled themselves. And a smaller number who had avoided both of these outcomes still found their breath caught in their lungs. The humans finally realised the sheer magnitude of their stupidity, and their eyes searched for the source of the disturbance. When they laid their eyes on them, as if in a wave, the whole crowd inched back in fear. The pressure contained something more.
An unrestrained desire for complete annihilation.
In the next instance, where Beerus had been, he had vanished. The entire barrier covering the battlefield was annihilated, and the Hakaishin seemed to materialise his very form in front of Kisua. "Something I've never liked having to repeat to impertinent humans," said the deity quietly. "Respect is something afforded to the gods, and someone of my position is deserving of that respect. For discourteous humans who not only sow disrespect, but actively speak ill of me...that is simply blasphemy."
Kisua was unable to so much as utter a word before he found his body lifted upwards, and was flying directly towards the waiting wings. The blow had been immensely fast, not a single fighter able to process what has transgressed. To add to the sheer terror, however, was the fact that Kisua's entire body was disintegrating. The man let out a howling scream of terror, as his body began to dissasemble into a pile of sand from the feet upwards. His screams died down as the eroding effect reached his neck, and only his widened, terrified eyes were left before his entire body dissolved into the sand heap.
The deity turned around, and looked directly at Yamcha.
"I've seen neither hide nor hair of the Super Saiyan God...and the humans of this planet are an incredibly rude lot," said Beerus, placing a finger to his chin. "I believe my use for this planet has run its course. But let's not think of it as the end, shall we? Rather, destroying the old to make room for something new. But before creation...must come destruction."
A/N: So, this is one of my shorter chapters, but I do believe it did what I needed it to do. To anyone who wanted to see Yamcha pull off something awesome...sorry, you'll have to wait a bit longer, but I do promise, Yamcha WILL have his moment later. I'll be honest, the MAIN MOMENT with this chapter was the moment with Beerus. I loved writing that, and wanted so hard to make sure that Beerus' presence was FELT. I will admit, Kisua was absolutely the stupidest man in the 7th Universe, but I wanted to do it different than with Majin Bū. I get how Toriyama it was to start a battle over the end of the world due to pudding, but I prefer it this way.
Now, onto names. The technique Yamcha used to disperse the ki technique 'Gekirō' means "Reverse Wolf" (逆狼).
As always, let's thank Demod20 for proofreading! I will see you all soon in the next chapter of the Erased Chronicles!