Escalation

Chapter 20: Sheep Among Wolves

A/N: This was probably the toughest chapter for me to write to date. A lot of things needed to happen for what comes next!


'Hey! Great to see you guys again!'

Krillin led Rayne, Yamcha, Bulma. Puar, and Chi-Chi over to greet Master Roshi and his two current students, Retu and Launch. Every past and present student of Master Roshi was wearing their Turtle clothes, save for Chi-Chi. 'You guys look pretty good in the gis-' Krillin said to Launch and Retu, '-they suit you well.'

Yellow-haired Launch slammed her fist into her other hand. 'Orange is awesome! It'll look great when splattered with my opponents' blood!' she proclaimed.

Krillin nodded weakly, before turning to Retu, 'Hey,' he said, ruffling Retu's hair, 'you've grown some, haven't you?'

Retu beamed with excitement. 'I'm a fully fledged martial artist now! I'm going to compete and win the entire tournament!' he exclaimed. Krillin shot a disbelieving look towards Roshi, who shrugged, conveying, I couldn't convince him not to compete.

Krillin leaned into Master Roshi's ear and whispered, 'He wasn't too much trouble, was he?'

'Not in the slightest,' he replied softly. 'In fact, he reminded me a lot of a certain other student of mine.' Master Roshi winked.

Krillin opened his mouth to continue speaking, but was cut off by Rayne. 'I don't mean to interrupt, but can we continue our meet-and-greets while we walk to the registrar's table,' Rayne asked, stepping out and to the side of Krillin. 'I think we arrived a little bit on the late side; I don't want to miss the registration period.'

A few moments later the entire group was walking down the massive tiled walkway; a mix of expressions and emotions ran through them. Some looked around the grounds with awe, amazed at the sight of it for either the first and second time- it was always impressive, they decided. Some walked with a cool determination, gauging every potential opponent, wondering what their weaknesses and strengths would be when matched up with that person, and him, and her…

And some walked with a heavy burden. Knowledge weighed on them, denying them any chance to savor the moment. They were an odd group indeed.

While Yamcha was regaling the rest of the group about his training exploits of the past few months- 'and I even beat this strange looking guy from hell, he was a funny one'- Rayne slowed down to come to Chi-Chi's side. 'So,' Rayne asked, 'if you don't mind me asking, what happened to your shoulder?'

Chi-Chi looked down, as if she was shying her eyes away from the bright sun. I could never tell them about what I did and live long enough to repair the damage that would cause. Some things… are my own business, and no one else's. 'I pushed myself too hard training, and sprained my shoulder,' she responded after a moment. 'Completely ripped a tendon. Back luck too, coming right before the tournament.' Chi-Chi watched for any signs of suspicion, but Rayne simply nodded, eyes closed in sympathy.

'That's rotten luck. Sorry about that,' Rayne said, frowning. 'So that means you're not competing in the tournament this year, then?'

'Sadly, no. I wouldn't be very capable with just one arm.' Chi-Chi cast a warm look towards Rayne. 'Win this one for me, okay?'

Rayne smiled at Chi-Chi, wordlessly gesturing in agreement, before she dropped back again, this time slowing to walk alongside Master Roshi. 'Master Roshi,' her tone was considerably more serious, 'I need to tell you something.'

Master Roshi placidly regarded Rayne. 'Hmm?' he murmured.

'I met Gohan.'

In front of Master Roshi and Rayne, Yamcha finished his good-natured bragging and clasped an arm around Krillin in a hush-hush manner. 'Krillin, buddy, Rayne and I did some freaky stuff-'

'Dude, gross!' Krillin winced, twisting off Yamcha's arm. 'What are you telling me this for? And why would you do that to Bulma? Aren't you two still dating?'

'What-' Yamcha stammered uncomprehending, before recognition flashed across his face. 'Wait, wait, wait, you don't understand. I meant freaky like, really strange, mystical stuff-'

'That's- I feel bad now.' Krillin pressed on, still hung up on the wrong topic, 'I know I never said-'

'Krillin!' Yamcha grabbed Krillin by his arms and shook the former monk forcefully, shaking the thought from his head. 'We talked to a ghost! A ghost that raised Kakarot!'

A look of confusion, then a look of consideration spread across Krillin's face. '...Now, I'm no expert, but how would a ghost raise Kakarot, being a... ghost?'

'The ghost was alive until a few years ago. He raised Kakarot until he died.'

'And you talked to this ghost? How'd you pull that off?'

'We drank some hallucinogenic tea some old witch gave us-' Yamcha frowned, realizing how ridiculous he sounded. 'Not important. What is important is what that ghost told us. We learned a lot of stuff about Kakarot- for example, his chief weakness is his tail! If you grab it he's paralyzed!'

'Really?' Krillin frowned, thinking. 'Is that why I never saw the dragon get summoned? Because you learned this- you got your info?' A sinking feeling spread throughout Krillin's body.

'Yes. We have all seven dragonballs, but we left them at Bulma's house as a sort of rainy-day fund. Our thinking was that this tournament might have a lot of nasty surprises that we'll need the dragonballs for.'

Krillin pouted. If I had told that stupid little fact, then maybe- they could have learned something more. I hope I made the right decision… 'Was there anything else the ghost told you?' Krillin asked.

'Mmm-hmm. Kakarot-Kak…' Yamcha trailed off, his eyes fixed on something in front of them. HIs feet were planted in the ground, frozen. Krillin stopped as well, bringing the entire group behind them to a halt. Raising his gaze, Krillin focused on where Yamcha was looking-

Kakarot. He was taller than Krillin remembered, maybe a bit more muscled, but that look, that cold, merciless flame still burned in his eyes, clamoring to overwhelm every entity they appraised. Dressed in a loose, simple brown shirt and pants, Kakarot purposely stood still for a second, letting himself be seen by them before entering the crowd once more and disappearing.

They all remained frozen, both physically and conversationally, while people passed around them and continued as usual. Launch and Retu were thoroughly confused. 'What the hell has gotten into you guys?' she scowled them.

0o0o0

Kakarot waded through the crowd, reassuming his anonymity amongst the gaggle of prospective competitors. This time, things will be different. No more surprises, no more tricks. I'm at the peak of my powers. And, most importantly, I don't have a gigantic weak spot on my back anymore… Wagging his tail behind him, Kakarot examined the cocky faces surrounding him. All of you will be dead by the end of this. Do you understand? All of-

Abruptly, Kakarot walked into someone much taller than him. He growled, tried to push his way past- but the figure in front of him didn't budge. They were, amazingly, holding their ground as Kakarot applied more and more of his strength. Irritated, he looked up.

Scowling down at him was a bald teenager. An unnerving third eye dominating his forehead. Three eyes? He doesn't look very human.

'Tell me your name,' the man punctuated his words by shoving Kakarot back a few inches- he actually moved me!-, 'so that I know the bastard name of the murderer of my mentor's brother.'

Mentor's brother? Interesting. Kakarot smiled condescendingly. 'Wordy, isn't that? I'm Kakarot,' the Saiyan said, trying to hide his surprise at being moved. His posture, the way he moves- he reminds of that man in the pink surcoat… wait…

'You killed Tao,' the bald youth said venomously, 'and for that, I will kill you.' He sneered at Kakarot. 'Make peace with whatever God you pray to.' The youth then spun and vanished into the crowd.

Kakarot remained where he was, watching the crowd fill-in the space previously held by that upstart. He slowly clenched and re-clenched his fists. I seem to have a knack for getting powerful warriors to challenge me.

Good. Let them come. It'll make things quicker.

0o0o0

The group was decidedly quieter the rest of the walk towards the tournament registration area. They stuck close together. Bulma and Yamcha hung on each other's arms.

Chi-Chi had nearly collapsed out of shock in that dreadful moment, where each and every one of them had been reminded of their grim situation. Kakarot- he was- so healed! As if he had never fought that man with the pink surcoat. No-one should be able to heal that quickly...

While she stewed with suspicion and speculation, Rayne resumed talking to Master Roshi. 'Master Roshi, don't you think it'd be a good idea for us to take him on now, before each and every one of us are worn down by matches?'

Master Roshi wheeled his head to her, his eyes obscured by the dark, furtive shades bridging his head. 'I understand where you're coming from, but no. Defeating him in the ring is our best option. If he follows up on his promise and participates, he'll be as worn down by the competition as the rest of us- not to mention I'll be fresh from not competing.

'I- but Master Roshi-'

'Rayne,' he said seriously, 'If we attack him now, countless innocent people will be caught in the crossfire. If we can get him in the ring, at the end of the tournament… at the very least, it'll be easier to defend the crowd.'

Rayne's eyes lingered on Master Roshi for a second, then said, 'Alright. And about Gohan-'

'We've discussed everything about him as it is,' Master Roshi interrupted. 'I made my peace with his death years ago. My only regret is that I wasn't with you to see him one last time…' While his facial expression hadn't changed, the pain was obvious in his voice.

She looked at him, commiserating, and then reentered the larger group in front of her.

Master Roshi continued his walk, bringing up the rear. I have failed you once Gohan; I don't plan on doing that again. Our business with Kakarot will end. I have spent years preparing for this moment- though, even now, I would prefer if my students could handle this themselves. Time will tell… but eventually, I will have to decide whether to handle this myself, with all its hurt and sorrow that comes with it….

A few minutes later and the group had reached the registrar's table. After registering- a few of them were recognized from the last tournament- an official enthusiastically handed out preliminary group numbers to them all. Krillin, Yamcha, Rayne, Retu, and Launch presented their numbers to each other- and amazingly, for the second tournament in a row, none of them were placed in the same preliminary group.

'This is awesome!' Yamcha said, as he checked every one of their numbers. 'We're guaranteed to reach the quarterfinals, no problem!'

'Don't get cocky,' Krillin warned, 'there might be some nasty surprises waiting for us in the preliminaries.'

'Please,' Launch dismissed, 'we're students of the Turtle Hermit himself. Who could possibly give us trouble?'

'If any of us get Kakarot in the preliminaries-' Krillin shuddered from the thought. 'It's not going to be fun.'

'Kakarot this, Kakarot that,' Launch mocked. 'All you seem to talk about is this Kakarot guy. What did he do to you that made you be obsessed with him?'

Grimacing, Krillin tightened his face. He knew Launch could be antagonistic- but he felt particularly annoyed by that last comment. What gives her the right to insult me with her ignorance? Just as Krillin was going to angrily admonish Launch, a figure brushed past him. their shoulders knocking into each other. Krillin turned and saw a bald teenager walking over towards the registrar. His attire was clearly centered around a "crane school" symbol. His movement and posture were frighteningly austere, as if he didn't waste a single ounce of energy. Most startling, he had a third eye on his forehead. An extremely short, pale-white kid accompanied him. 'Crane School, huh?' Krillin said, his eyes narrowing. He swung back to face the rest of the group. Master Roshi, is-'

But Master Roshi was gone. At some point in the last minute or so he had left them. '...well, that figures,' Krillin finished. 'Wouldn't be a World Tournament if the old man didn't run off to who knows where.'

'He's done this before?' Retu asked.

'Yep. At the last tournament, he was missing for practically the entire thing- until we spotted him milling around in the stands during the finals.'

'The stands?' Launch questioned inquisitively. 'What, did you see him from the ring or something? You weren't actually with him?'

'We saw his shell buck up and down at one point.'

'So you never actually saw him the entire tournament, then?'

Krillin cocked his head in thought, then said, 'No, I guess not.'

A mischievous grin encompassed Launch's face. 'Isn't that interesting.' Without saying anything else, Launch checked her surroundings and skulked off deeper into the tournament.

'She's a weird person…' Yamcha spoke, 'or persons…'

Everyone else present nodded.

0o0o0

'You did as Shen asked then, Chiaotzu?' Tien was watching the Turtle School students wade into the main building, where the preliminary fights would be starting soon.

Standing next to Tien, Chiaotzu nodded. 'They've been placed in separate preliminary groups from us- them and that fighter with the tail. Though I had to place one of them in the same group as our target.'

'Not our concern. In fact, it's good that you did that- we can see how he fights up close and personal. Provided, of course, we don't waste time in the preliminary matches.'

'Since when do we waste time?'

Tien settled a warm gaze on Chiaotzu, before gesturing towards the preliminary building. 'Come on, let's get to our matches.'

0o0o0

A few minutes after his students had registered and moved further into the tournament complex, Master Roshi emerged from a nearby bush, figuring enough time had passed to register his old friend Jackie Chun. When he began to approach the table, however, a hand clasped onto his shoulder. He turned, seeing a familiar, fellow old man. 'Shen,' Master Roshi pronounced inflectionless.

'Nice to see you too, Roshi,' Shen sneered, withdrawing his hand as if he touched something filthy. 'Were you about to register for the tournament? Don't you have your own pathetic students to defend what passes for whatever honor your school claims to possess?'

Master Roshi stared at Shen for a moment. Shen, coincidentally, also wore sunglasses. 'I have nothing to say to you,' Roshi said. 'What I or my students do is none of your business.' Master Roshi began to turn, before he heard a low, soft laugh escape from Shen.

'Do you think you exist in a vacuum? That no one else cares about what you do?' Shen asked pointedly.

'What do you mean?' Master Roshi said, curious. He didn't bother to face Shen again.

'I know that you have eyes on that boy with the tail,' Shen stated ominously. 'And I cannot allow that. The Crane School has marked him for death.'

'Oh? Is that so? And why might that be?'

'It's none of your concern,' Shen replied confrontationally, 'and even if you did care, you would know the answer to your own question. Just remember that his defeat belongs to us, and us alone. Tell your students to get out of our way.' Shen waited for a moment, expecting a response from Master Roshi. When Roshi gave none, Shen grunted and walked past Master Roshi, approaching the spectator's section of the tournament.

`Master Roshi was thinking- not on Shen's command, which he planned to ignore, but what Shen had said before that. I should know the answer to my own question… Intuitively, he spread out his ki sense across the world. He searched for familiar energies. He… noticed an absence. No, that can't be right… but he's gone. Tao's… gone.

Has Kakarot really grown that strong?

0o0o0

Most of the Turtle School students had expected modest, yet surmountable, resistance in the preliminaries. Instead, they cruised, in most cases knocking out their opponents in a single blow.

Krillin was surprised to see Nam. 'You're competing again, then?' he asked with a warm smile. 'I hope another disaster hasn't fallen on your village.'

Nam shook his head, then settled into a guard. 'No, this time, I compete for myself. That, and to watch my nephew soar. So, if you don't mind…' Nam charged Krillin, images of their last fight playing through Krillin's mind.

This encounter couldn't have been more different. With amazing grace, Krillin palmed Nam's first punch and then ducked underneath his second one. To Krillin, Nam moved incredibly slow. Krillin then delivered a casual, yet powerful, punch to Nam's sternum. sending the village fighter skittering back, fast and forcefully enough to make Nam fall out of bounds. Nam spent a few seconds on the ground, trying to comprehend the pain he felt- so much strength!- before a hand grasped his own, pulling him up. His vision still clearing, Nam could only stare at Krillin in disbelief. 'You have truly surpassed me,' he said, gazing in awe at Krillin. 'I am humbled.'

Krillin helped Nam to stand by himself. 'Don't be. Our fight taught me a lot.'

Yamcha and Rayne similarly blasted through their matches. Yamcha dispatched a certain smelly giant with even more ease than the last time- he just summoned an aura around him to block the smell. Rayne dispatched another former competitor- what was her name? Rafnan?- After her opponent inexplicably started undressing in the middle of the ring. Rayne was immobilized from shock for a brief moment before launching her away with a kick. Krillin, Yamcha, and Rayne's collective ease in winning their groups gave them ample time to wander the preliminary hall and watch the other fights.

'Hey Rayne, over here!' Yamcha waved, pointing towards a nearby match.

Rayne approached. 'You finished too, huh? What is it?'

Yamcha gestured to the closest ring, mouthing, look.

The fighter from earlier- tall, bald, third-eyed and fierce-looking- was facing a darker skinned fighter with an afro and a billowing yellow robe. 'Do you see him?' Yamcha asked, excitement leaking out of his voice.

'Yea- the fighter from before,' Rayne answered lamely.

'No! His opponent!'

Rayne studied the man opposite of the tall youth. 'I… no, I don't know who that is,' she gave up after a few moments.

'That's the legendary King Chappa! Surely you've heard of him?'

A blank stare from Rayne.

'You really don't know anything about the history and lore of martial arts, do you?' Yamcha asked.

'I was a member of a paramilitary organization from birth,' Rayne reminded him.

'Fair enough. That man,' he pointed at the dark-skinned fighter, 'is King Chappa. He won a previous World Martial Arts Tournament when I was really young- maybe the 20th or 19th one. He became an instant celebrity; I even had a poster of him on my bedroom wall.'

'A poster?' Rayne inquired, a hint of amusement in her voice.

'I was going through a phase.'

Before they could continue their conversation, a reverberating blow rang out through the hall. They swung back to the ring to see King Chappa motionless, one arm outstretched and his body posed as if he was about to strike his opponent. The tall youth, however, had stepped around the arm and was pressing the edge of his hand into King Chappa's neck. A split-second later, King Chappa collapsed to the ground. The referee quickly checked the pulse of the fallen champion. 'He's still alive,' she said, 'for your sake. You do know that if you kill anyone in this tournament-' she looked at her clipboard- 'Tien, you'll be instantly disqualified. Do you understand?'

Tien glowered at her, then gave a curt dip of his head saying, "yes".

'That was… horribly effective,' Rayne said after a moment.

'I think,' Yamcha said, 'I can add another person to my "hope to never fight"' list.

'You and me both.'

0o0o0

Krillin, wandering towards the end of the building, unintentionally stumbled upon Retu, who was bowing towards his opponent. Who was- Krillin's heart stopped. No.

Kakarot gazed maliciously, noticing Krillin's gaze ping-pong between himself and his opponent, Retu. Retu was stretching energetically, a bright smile on his face.

I can stop this, Krillin though, rushing forwards to the ring, I can stop this before it even begins-

He felt a mysterious tug, then a full stop arrest his body, freezing him ten or so feet from the ring. I- why can't I move? His eyes darted to either side of him, then spied a face looking towards him-

The pale white kid from before. His eyes were locked with Krillin's. A single hand was extended in the former monk's direction.

Is… is this telekinesis? Krillin tried to move this body again, trying harder to this time- but it was like he had been encased in stone. He was powerless.

Krillin swung his gaze back towards the ring. Retu and Kakarot were preparing to fight. He intensified his efforts to move- he tried to move, speak, do something to tell Retu to resign from the match- but he could barely move his eyes. Please! This won't be a match! Don't do this! His eyes pleaded with his pale captor- but the eyes that looked back were emotionless.

He could only look on in despair as Retu and Kakarot charged each other.

Retu began a complex series of moves, blending the heavy style of his uncle Nam with the defensive capabilities of the Turtle School, but Kakarot easily kept out of his range, edging to the left and right when necessary to avoid Retu's blows. Seeing the ineffectiveness of his initial moves, Retu ramped up the pace of his attacks, burning through his energy. He succeeded in forcing Kakarot to start block- but not a single hit landed on Kakarot beyond that. It was obvious in the space of half a minute that Retu stood no chance.

Krillin looked back at the pale kid- Please!- but now he was also watching the fight unfold, eyes focused on the scene in front of them. Krillin also saw the tall, three-eyed youth emerge on the other end of the ring, gazing intently towards Kakarot. Krillin's eyes flung back to Retu; the kid's expression slowly soured from exertion. Of all people- why him?

Kakarot planted his feet in the ground, and blocked one blow from Retu- then, for the first time, he stepped forward, slamming a knee into the kid's abdomen. Retu gasped as pain shot through him, falling to one knee. Short, ragged breaths fell out of him before he coughed and spat onto the ring. Retu looked up, his teeth splattered with blood- but there was still that same look in his eyes from before; uncompromising determination.

Standing ominously, Kakarot waited for his opponent to rejoin the fray.

Krillin felt himself loosening- he was now flaring his ki in an attempt to break free. He saw the pale kid turn back to him, droplets of sweat running down his face. He can't do this much longer! Come on! I need to STOP THIS!

Retu closed again with Kakarot, yelling, as he unveiled a technique of his uncle's. 'Eight-palmed strike!' Retu shouted, as his arms seemed to blur until it seemed like there were eight limbs sprouting out of his back. Palms and jabs assailed Kakarot, a storm of strikes bouncing off of Kakarot's confident defense. Kakarot wasn't idle on offense- for every blow Retu managed to glance off of him, Kakarot returned the damage twofold, hammering into every inch of Retu's body. Retu's attack slowed, then devolved completely as he sank to the ground, completely out of energy and aching from his injuries.

That was… everything he had, Krillin realized.

Kakarot lorded over him, then planted his foot on Retu's chest, knocking him back and pinning him to the ground. Retu squirmed feebly underneath Kakarot.

'A recent opponent of mine crushed my ribs,' Kakarot said. 'It was excruciating. So I will do something even worse to you.'

In one movement, Kakarot brought his leg out and to the side, and whipped it into Retu's head. Retu's head jolted to the left, his eyes rolling over, as his struggling slowed, then ceased. A small dent was now present in Retu's skull. Utter silence descended on the ring and the surrounding onlookers.

He's- he's-

'He's not dead,' Kakarot informed, before taking his other leg off of Retu's body and turning. 'I know the rules of your tournament.' He gave a casual wave as he walked off and away from the ring.

An explosion of movement erupted around the ring. Numerous tournament medics flocked to Retu's side, checking his heartbeat and breathing, as well as Krillin. He couldn't even reach his one-time pupil's body- he was blocked by a wall of people. A part of him was about to flare his ki outwards, knock everyone in front of him out of the way, just to get to Retu-

A hand grabbed his arm, stopping him from charging forwards. He turned, the tall, three-eyed youth had stopped him, with the pale kid at his side. 'I- we didn't mean,' the tall youth began with a tone of regret.

Krillin was furious and devastated; the two emotions coursed violently against each other in his veins. He aggressively ripped his arm away from the tall youth's grip, Tears streaming down Krillin's face, he staggered back, his mind drunk on misery and anger. He cocked his fist to strike the crane students- then he halted, and let his hand go limp. He asked, half-distraught, half-furious, 'Why?' before sighting the medics taking away Retu on a stretcher and chasing after them.

Tien and Chiaotzu watched the grim proceedings make it way through the hall, hurrying as best as it could through a heaving mass of people.

'Tien,' Chiaotzu said neutrally, 'I know we have a mission to kill that boy with the tail, and garnering information is critical to succeeding- but was that the right thing to do?'

Tien watched the crowd reform in the wake of the medical convoy, and said nothing.

0o0o0

Launch couldn't have sneezed at a worst time. Right when she needed that fire, that drive to win, blue-haired Launch manifested in the ring, hesitantly staring down her hippo-man opponent.

Luckily, she soon discovered that she was strong enough to lightly push the fighter out of the ring. The hippo-man nearly completed a full flip before landing painfully in a jumbled heap of his own limbs. Blue-haired Launch stared down at her victorious hand, disbelieving that she had that much power. I… I did that. I beat that man. A grin snuck onto blue-haired Launch's face, reminiscent of an expression her other side would display. I'm strong. I think I'm starting to get it, other me. No more of us being pushed around.

As she walked off the small ring, she inadvertently stepped in front of someone else, who promptly collided with her. 'So sorry!' an old man apologized, 'I get so clumsy in my old age, haha!'

Launch waved away the old man, then blinked. She stared at him. Wait a second.

The old man was dressed in black robes- his gray hair pulled upwards like a sheet. And his face… there's something familiar about that face...

Feeling a bit nervous from the attention, the old man said sorry again, and then quickly moved away towards another section of the hall. Launch continued to watch him, studying his movements. No, that can't be… but I've spent three years with that man; that gait is unmistakable. That's- then Launch sneezed violently, startling the other fighters around her with its loudness. Yellow-haired Launch wiped her nose, then lifted her head to glare five times as harsh in the direction the old man had left. Master Roshi! You bastard! She was about to run off after the old man when Rayne stepped into her path, a grim look on her face. 'Rayne,' she began to say, 'get-'

'You need to come with me now,' Rayne said. 'Retu's been injured.'

0o0o0

Chi-Chi, Bulma, and Puar reached the stands. A few seconds after they sat, something beeped in Bulma's pocket. 'Huh, that's weird…' she mumbled as she examined the device she had pulled out.

'What is it?' Chi-Chi asked, trying to peep over Bulma's shoulder to see whatever she was looking at.

'It's... nothing.' She pocketed the device again. 'Apparently, someone re-entered the Red Ribbon Headquarters recently, but nothing was disturbed or taken. Considering I cleared that base out of anything useful- no, it's really not important.'

'Red Ribbon Headquarters? What's that about?'

'Oh!' Bulma exclaimed. 'Right, you weren't there. We took the Red Ribbon Army down, for good.'

'Like,' Chi-Chi snapped her fingers, 'that? I find that hard to believe.'

'It's not like it was much of a challenge- at least for Yamcha, Krillin, and Rayne, and you if you were there. Don't you remember how weak their soldiers were? None of them were actually trained to go toe-to-toe with an accomplished martial artist.' Bulma cocked her head, her eyes looking away. 'Though, admittedly, we got some help. There seemed to have been a power struggle- their leader was dead before we arrived. At the same time, their other base was inexplicably destroyed at some point around when we attacked their HQ. So yea, we did get a little lucky.'

Chi-Chi nodded and shifted her gaze towards the currently-empty main ring of the tournament. Yes, you did.

'Chi-Chi,' Bulma cut through her thought, 'I've been meaning to ask- was that you who took out that other base? Is that how you got injured?'

Too smart. Too smart by far. Chi-Chi turned to Bulma, her eyes meeting her's, pleading. 'Don't tell anyone.'

'Chi-Chi,' Bulma laughed, 'no need to be so serious! What you do with your own time is no-one's concern. I'm-,' a corner of Bulma's mouth twisted, '-we're just concerned. You are injured, after all…'

'I know it was a dumb decision,' Chi-Chi muttered. In more ways than one. 'But…' She struggled against herself, trying to find the right words. Please, I don't want to lie any more than I have to.

As if Bulma was reading her thoughts, she said, 'Like I said, you don't need to explain anything, Just remember we can back you up.'

Again, Chi-Chi nodded, while her mind was racing away again.

0o0o0

Yamcha, Rayne, and Launch hurried down a hallway towards the medical wing. They were told by a passing tournament official- delivering the news insultingly casually- that their fellow student Retu had been injured and taken to the medical wing during a fight. It was only when they found Krillin sitting outside the surgical wing, clasping and unclasping his hands together in anxiety, did they understand the gravity of the situation. Krillin could do nothing more than look up at them in anguish, before turning back to his hands, kneading and squeezing them.

Yamcha exchanged a few uncertain glances among Rayne and Launch before crouching down to be level with Krillin. 'Krillin,' he said softly, 'what happened?'

Krillin twisted his head away, speaking towards the open end of the hall, 'what do you think happened? He happened.'

Launch uncharacteristically stayed silent, glancing between Krillin and the door to the surgical wing. Rayne grimaced, before crouching down as well, crowding around Krillin with Yamcha in support. Yamcha wrinkled his nose in anger, then frustration, before rising emphatically. 'We know what we need to do, then. Screw Master Roshi- we need to take out Kakarot now.'

Krillin remained seated, gazing into his hands. Rayne noticed the strength Krillin was wringing his hands with- anger. She sensed there was something else. Ignoring Yamcha's comment, she asked, 'Krillin, what else happened?'

Again, Krillin turned his head away, before saying, 'The Crane students stopped me from intervening. I let them…'

Rayne huffed, feeling a heat rise to her face, before softening her expression. Now's not the time for anger. Not yet. Carefully, she gripped Krillin's head between her hands and drew it to rest against her body. The moment Krillin's head touched Rayne, he started crying, soft and bitter.

Shaking with anger, Yamcha twisted his face, then spun on his heels, storming off. Launch glanced at Rayne- who shrugged, and mouthed, stop whatever he's doing. Nodding, Launch turned and set off after him.

Watching her go, Rayne realized that, out of all of their friends, she was here, holding Krillin. Okay, she thought, as another sob wracked Krillin's body. Okay.

0o0o0

Having finished and qualified for the main tournament, Tien watched his friend Chiaotzu dispatch another ridiculously dressed competitor with a well-placed strike. Thankfully, Chiaotzu had nearly qualified so this wouldn't go on for much longer. Thank Kami. I could do without this time to stew to myself.

Tien and Chiaotzu had spent years training under Master Shen- they had dedicated their entire lives to learning martial arts as students of the Crane School. Tien lived, ate, and breathed his master's teachings, spending every waking moment training himself harder.

It was hard to remember why exactly he had started training in the first place. Perhaps he was motivated by a righteousness to defeat evil, or a desire to grow stronger. Ultimately, though, it didn't matter now; training had become so ingrained in his life that it became a habit, a constant repetition- it practically was his life.

He wondered whether his younger self would approve of his actions. He used to be more idealistic, and he didn't care for that blind adoration of the inexperienced- but he did desire… well, he wasn't sure what. Had he lost something, in these years of training? Something important?

Indirectly letting that Turtle School fighter be so grievously injured- he realized now that that wasn't necessary. They could have let that bald kid intervene right before the end, before their target viciously wounded his opponent, without losing out on any potential information. Sadism was not a useful fact to know when constructing a strategy. So, that begs the question: why did we let that happened?

His mind reached back, recalling some of the earliest lessons Master Shen had taught them. Tien remembered a young boy who had entered the dojo at the same time as himself and Chiaotzu. The boy was a bright, happy kid, who Tien would often run off with after training to explore the grounds of the school, back when the dojo seemed so fresh and new. They would chat for hours on end about their anxiety about joining and where they grew up- it was a genuine friendship, Tien reflected. For a few months, they were inseparable.

Tien couldn't remember the circumstances of when and why, but one day a 'special' day of training took place. They couldn't have been more than a few months into their lessons when Master Shen's brother, Tao, visited. The first thing Tao did was drill with each student individually, one at a time, in the central open area of the dojo. With every fighter, he utterly and completely dismantled their defense, hammering blow after blow into them. He would command every student to rise up once more after being knocked down. This rising and falling of every student would continue until Tao's opponent physically couldn't get up anymore. At that point, their spar would end.

Multiple students were horribly injured. Some had bones broken, other had limbs burned and cracked. Tien himself escaped with only a dislocated shoulder, which, he remembered, forced an earlier exit for him than for others.

When it came time for Tien's friend, after being knocked to the ground once, he refused to get up again. He said that he didn't think that this was training- he said it resembled torture. Tien remembered the distinct expression of disgust that rose on Tao's face, in sync with his friend's words. This time, Tao didn't wait for his opponent to get on his feet again- he extended one finger and pierced Tien's friend in the chest with a spear of ki, drilling straight through a lung. Blood sputtered, then frothed from the entry point of the attack. Tien's friend gasped and nearly choked on his own blood right then and there before being taken away from sparring area.

He never recovered. His wound got infected and he died a week later. Tao and Shen would remind everyone in the class after that point that the only person to die that day did so because they refused to stand and fight.

Thus began Tien's adoration for Tao, his perpetual mentor… but now he wondered whether he had failed to see something in Tao then, all those years ago. He had thought for the longest time that his friend had proved himself a coward by refusing to stand up while he still had the power to do so, but seeing that Turtle fighter being injured like that- Kakarot going out of his way to permanently injure someone who was so far beneath their level- it reminded Tien of that day with Tao, and his friend who died an early death. Was there a true purpose for Tao taking that extra step, injuring that kid? What was the point of that?

Tien blinked. Chiaotzu was standing over another fallen fighter and was being proclaimed the winner of his preliminary group. Tien sighed. That's over, then. Time for the real competition.

0o0o0

Jackie Chun had felt Retu's life energy drop like a rock. He wished he could have sped to his side immediately, see what he felt immediately- but he was infuriating stuck in a series of preliminary fights. He dismissed his opponents as quick as humanly possible, and when he heard the tournament official began to proclaim him the winner of his group, he raced off, not even giving the official enough time to pronounce a single syllable beyond his name. Jackie Chun sped through what he sensed were empty corridors, making his way towards the medical wing. He carefully avoided Krillin and Rayne's returning ki signature- best to avoid that conversation- and approached the room where Retu was from the other side. The medics and surgeons had left- that much was obvious from the lack of sound coming from the room. Quietly, Jackie Chun slipped in.

The room was small- but even so, Retu looked pathetically small curled up on the single bed. Master Roshi came to the side of the bed, his hands resting on the metal railing. Retu's chest rose and fell slowly, his heartbeat monitor beeping normally. Master Roshi let out a pent-up sigh of relief. He'll live. Yet… Master Roshi's eyes jumped upwards, towards Retu's head. On the left side of his head, a prominent dent now occupied the back corner.

Jackie Chun snapped his fingers in front of Retu. Nothing. He clapped. Still nothing. Panicking now, Jackie Chun took Retu by his shoulders and shook him as much as physically acceptable for an injured person. Nothing. At one point Retu's eyelids flapped open- and his eyes were still rolled back in his skull. He was completely unresponsive.

He pulled away, unable to look at Retu any longer. How could I be so foolish? I should have known better than to expect so much of them…

And I should have known they'd be prepared to give everything. They are my students, after all.

0o0o0

Yamcha pushed his way past dejected fighters- the primary composition of the preliminary hall now that the eight finalists had been all but decided- searching furiously for the Crane symbol he had spied earlier. I'm going to make them pay- or Kakarot- whoever I find first!

He was livid. Angry beyond what he had thought possible. Angry that Retu had been so grievously injured and that Krillin had done exactly what he shouldn't have done- descend into a crying mess. He knew that, on some level, he should have stayed with Rayne, comforting Krillin; but the sight of him like that enraged Yamcha. He couldn't bear to see Krillin slowly self-implode, like so many times before. Yamcha also knew that he should have been more concerned about Retu- a coma, oh, a coma- but his rage was all-consuming. He was now at the point of physically shoving away people who were slow to get out of his way. I'm tired of bullies and monsters hurting us. Hurting others. I'm-

There.

He sighted the bald youth from before- no doubt that pale white brat was around, too. He beelined for the three-eyed freak-

Launch came from the side and grabbed him, digging her feet into the ground. 'Woah!' she hollered, as Yamcha struggled against her.

'Let… go of me!' he said, trying to worm his way out of her grip. 'I need to do this!'

'Yamcha,' yellow-haired Launch said evenly, 'look at me- if anyone should be clocking someone for what just happened, it should be me. But this… doing this by yourself is stupid. Dumb.'

Yamcha scrunched his face, tried to break loose again- then relented, gritting his teeth. 'Damn it, you're right…'

Launch sighed, then saw out of the corner of her eye the bald youth start to approach them. Oh Kami, crisis #2.

Tien approached them, an uncertain frown running across his face. This can't be a good idea… he thought, as he saw the Turtle school fighter with the spiky black hair notice him approach.

'What do you want?' Yamcha said, glaring.

At Tien's side, Chiaotzu also looked expectantly at the Crane student. Tien, what's going through your mind?

Tien seemed to fidget for a moment, then a stillness settled over his features. 'We apologize for what we did earlier. We should have let your friend intervene.'

Chiaotzu blinked in surprise. Before he had a chance to say anything, Yamcha said, 'Oh? So you suddenly develop a conscious, jerk?'

'It's not like that. What happens to any of you is none of our concern. But what we did earlier was unnecessary. We were just concerned with fulfilling our mission.'

'Mission?' Yamcha said incredulously, 'what the hell are you talking about?'

An arm brushed against Tien- he looked down and locked eyes with Chiaotzu's. What, his eyes seemed to glare, are you doing?

Tien turned back to Yamcha, who still stood with a sour expression on his face. 'We've been tasked with killing that boy with the tail. We will say this once- he is ours, so stay out of our way.'

'Boy with the tail? Are you talking about Kakarot?' Yamcha said.

'Yes. Him.'

'You have no right!' Yamcha yelled, moving forward before Launch could restrain him from jabbing a finger into Tien's chest. After contact, he was pulled away by Launch, and his arm flailed in front of Tien. 'I'd rather die than let you do that!'

Tien felt himself grow more frustrated; a vein bulged on his forehead. 'This is Crane business,' Tien responded, jabbing a finger of his own into Yamcha's chest, 'and so it will be dealt with by Crane students. I wouldn't expect a pathetic Turtle student to understand!' On some level, Tien recognized he was overreacting- but this damn guy was riling him up!

'Say that about the Turtle school one more time!' Yamcha roared, and this time Launch physically grabbed Yamcha in time, preventing him from escalating his shouting match with Tien. 'I'm so mad!' he said, as he was pulled back a few more feet from Tien.

Launch couldn't help it- she was smiling from behind Yamcha. She made eye-contact with the pale kid next to the tall youth- and found he was smiling, too. At least us observers are having fun watching this.

Retracting his finger, Tien stared at the writhing mass of Launch and Yamcha, before straightening, 'That was unprofessional of me,' he grated, still obviously worked up, 'but my original message still stands. Do not interfere.' Tien gestured to Chiaotzu, and together they strode out of the preliminary hall. As he watched them walk away, Yamcha realized that a call was going out for all preliminary group winners.

0o0o0

Kakarot smirked as he followed a tournament official towards the main stage of the tournament. The idea of fighting all of these fighters- it's thrilling! I'm… excited. I can't remember the last time I felt this anticipatory rush! Things were proceeding as much as he had expected them. The preliminary fights were, as he predicted, laughably simple. He was surprised that the earlier fighter- who looked to be from a small village, or something like that- had been associated with those other Turtle students. Once that became obvious, however- once Kakarot had seen that bald cretin standing nearby, trapped by fear- it was easy to do what he had done. Perhaps it was unfair that he punished that fighter for his association with his school; then again, do I actually care?

No. I'll cripple both the strong and the weak- fewer people to oppose me in the future.

The more he thought about it, though, the more Kakarot felt a sense of... dirtiness sweep over him. Was he wrong to feel that? Kakarot searched his feelings- what would a Saiyan do? A Saiyan has… a code? He clenched his face, digging deeper into his mind. Some sort of… maybe... guidelines? That dictate decorum with fighting…

Try as he might, he couldn't remember. All in good time, he assured himself, as he saw the opening to the main stage yawn before him. Kakarot stepped out towards the main ring- and found himself the first of the eight finalists to appear before the crowd.

As if they were sleeping before, the crowd erupted into cheers, waving all sorts of signs and banners at the sight of the first fighter. Is that… is that for me? Kakarot was admittedly a little surprised as he meekly waved back. This is easily fifty times the amount of people I've ever seen in one place.

His eyes skimmed through the crowd- so many different faces, so many different expressions; this is what humanity is like?- then he saw her. The girl. Her name…

His was pulled away from the scene, back to his detention in Jingle Town just a few months ago. 'So what are you like?' she asked abruptly one day, staring at him with that damn soul-piercing look. 'Open-ended question.'

Kakarot glared at her, then turned his head away. 'A stupid question,' he huffed. 'What I'm "like" isn't relevant at all.'

'Really? That's what you think?' she said, mocking. 'You think so little about yourself that you can't even bother to pull a fact out of your ass? Or even a lie?'

He didn't make a move to look back at her- he continued to lay in silence.

'Do I need to drill this into your thick skull?' Chi-Chi was sounding increasingly annoyed. 'You can't even say something like, "Oh, my name is Kakarot, I like to kill people!" It's simple! Look at me! "My name is Chi-Chi and-"'

Chi-Chi halted. Kakarot turned over in curiosity and saw she had gone as white as snow. Quickly, she collected a tray at Kakarot's side and hurried out the door.

That's right- her name was Chi-Chi…

Kakarot thought he saw a flicker of recognition on her face, distant as she was in the crowd. She started to stand-

And the announcer stepped in front of him, shooing him towards the center of the ring. 'Kid, what are you doing? I told you to stand in the middle. Just stick next to the rest of the fighters…'

Fighters… Kakarot turned- he could now see the trickle of his competition entering the ring.

0o0o0

'Ladies and Gentlemen! Let me be the first to say- welcome to the 22nd World Martial Arts Tournament!' Looking at the announcer, it looked like the last tournament had happened yesterday- he still wore that ridiculous black suit, gelled hair, and thick black sunglasses. And, of course, he hadn't lost his touch with the crowd either. 'Everyone, calm down for this next part! We've decided to make the drawings for the finals public this year for your nail-biting pleasure! I will be your narrator for this dramatic process- but first, let's meet our finalists!'

The crowd rumbled with excitement as the announcer walked over to the first person in line. 'Rayne! It's nice to see you in the tournament this year.' He pressed the microphone into her face.

'Uhh… yeah,' she offered lamely. 'Can I draw my number now?'

'Go ahead! You have the honor of the first pick!'

Rayne approached the white box wheeled out to the center of the ring and stuck her hand inside. She pulled out a ball with a 5 on it.

'Well drawn, Rayne! Now for our next finalist; Tien Shinhan!' The announcer walked a few feet over to the three-eyed fighter. 'I can see from your uniform that you've trained under the Crane School. Is there anything you'd like to say to any fans or aspiring martial artists out there, Tien?'

Tien eyed the announcer for a long moment, then said, 'No.'

'Well… go draw your number then, Tien!'

Tien walked towards the box, and after glancing briefly back at Chiaotzu, he drew a ball, holding up it to the crowd. '3,' he said disinterestedly, before returning to his place in the line.

'Fantastic!' the announcer yelled into his mic.

0o0o0

'Not sure how I feel about this new direction,' Puar commented as she watched the announcer scurry around the ring. 'I don't think martial artists as a whole are a talkative bunch.'

'I see what you mean,' Bulma said, fidgeting in her seat to see around the tall person in the row in front of her. 'Just look at Krillin…'

The former monk looked decidedly unhappy, answering the announcer's questions as quickly as he could.

'Yea, actually... Krillin doesn't look right. Even at his distance, you can see his shoulders are slumped.' Puar floated higher into the air for a better look, then descended back down to Bulma. 'Did something happen?...'

'This is the part that sucks about being stuck in the stands.'

Sitting next to them, Chi-Chi might as well have been in another world. He… he saw me. He recognized me.

Well, why wouldn't he? I did imprison him for a few days. That look, though- it was so... depthless.

Krillin held up a ball with the number 2.

0o0o0

Kakarot was going to relish this moment, he decided. When he first strutted out for the world to see, and utterly terrified them. He waited for the announcer to approach him. He looked at him expectantly- but the announcer held his distance, and said, 'Kakarot, draw your number!' It was… odd that the man was standing so far away from him. Kakarot could swear he could see an expression of nervousness hidden on the announcer's face.

Whatever. He strode forwards and rummaged for a ball from the box. This one. He grabbed the ball and showed it to the announcer- '8! Kakarot has drawn 8! What are the odds that the first four finalists wouldn't draw each other?'

On the edge of his vision, Kakarot thought he saw that pale kid from before cough.

Crossing his arms in annoyance, Kakarot walked back towards the line. He purposely tried to make eye contact with the familiar bald fighter- but he looked lost. Like I'd already beaten him, hah. Though… Kakarot remembered that leading up to this tournament, sensing ki of the really strong fighters- that became much harder. It was almost like they weren't showing their full ki anymore. It made gauging where he was compared to them much harder.

Kakarot was snapped out his thoughts by the grating voice of the announcer. 'Yamcha draws 7! So that means!...'

Yamcha swung his gaze towards Kakarot, frowning. Oh, Kakarot thought, this should be fun...

0o0o0

The drawings finished without much fanfare- the crowd gradually lost interest in the ceremony as it dragged on. Chiaotzu drew 1, matching with Krillin. Jackie Chun drew 6, matching with Rayne. Thus, Launch knew before she even had the ball in her hand that she would draw 4 and face Tien in the quarterfinals.

'And there you have it, Ladies and Gentlemen!' the announcer said, recapping for the crowd. 'Our quarterfinals matches will be Chiaotzu vs. Krillin, Tien vs. Launch, Rayne vs. Jackie Chun, and Yamcha vs. Kakarot! After a ten-minute break, fists will be flying!'

The finalists were given leave to disperse. As Tien exited the ring, he tried his best to ignore the strange, crazy look his yellow-haired opponent was throwing towards him. I don't care about that right now! He padded over to Chiaotzu and gestured him to follow.

Once they were out of sight of the crowd and the tournament officials, Tien pulled Chiaotzu to one side. 'Chiaotzu!' Tien said in a loud whisper. 'Why didn't that punk from the Turtle School draw me?'

Sweat was streaming down Chiaotzu's face. 'I think I overexerted my telekinesis today, Tien. Holding back that bald turtle student earlier took more out of me than I thought…'

Tien frowned nastily- then sighed. 'Okay… It's okay, Chiaotzu. Truth be told,' his eyes settled on Kakarot, who walked past them with a gleeful look on his face, 'he'll probably suffer more against his current opponent.' And does that upset me? Will that make me satisfied or regretful? We should have arranged it such that we faced Kakarot immediately in the preliminaries. Is there really any reason to expose all these other people to him? His thoughts flashed back to that first training day with Tao, then to Retu's crumpled form on the ring. 'Chiaotzu,' Tien said after a moment, 'I have a question that's been chewing at me the entire day.'

'Yes?' Chiaotzu said, encouraging Tien to go on.

'Why do we train?'

0o0o0

A figure crept through the forest, the night sky above bright with a multitude of stars. She swung around a tree trunk and ducked beneath a beam of wood into an abandoned barn. Pausing a moment at the entrance, she listened for any sounds. A single set of quiet breaths could be heard from the other end of the building. Alright. Colonel Violet straightened and walked further into the building, emerging into the main chamber. General Blue was sitting on a crate, his head hung between his legs. Upon her entrance, he lifted his head fractionally. 'You have it?' he asked.

Colonel Violet nodded, then shrugged off her pack. A few seconds of rummaging and she withdrew from it a… a rice cooker, worn, unadorned. General Blue squinted at it. 'This is it? You're serious? You're sure?'

'This was the only item in the secret chamber you described to me.' She placed the rice cooker on the ground between them. 'Have you never actually seen it before? I'm starting to think this was a giant waste of time…'

General Blue approached the rice cooker, picking it up and holding it between his hands. 'If this is it, then so be it. Whatever researcher we had at the time said that this was an item of unparalleled power… it would literally ooze energy into its surroundings.' He noted that the rice cooker was, accordingly, hot to the touch. 'There's something powerful in here, which will help us get revenge on those brats- I know it.' General Blue motioned Colonel Violet to stand back, and then placed the rice cooker on the ground. He slammed his foot down on the rice cooker with all his might, splintering and breaking it into pieces.

All at once the room around them started to swelter. Hot air blew past them from seemingly nowhere as the fragments of the rice cooker started to shake and vibrate. A wave of energy shot out from the center, then another, knocking both General Blue and Colonel Violet onto their backs. Wisps of smoke started to rise from the rice cooker, coagulating and mixing into a vague, humanoid shape. Another rush of wind and smoke, and suddenly, there stood a figure amongst the remains of the rice cooker. They were hairless, tall, and old, with a black tunic and pants, tied to the body with a purple sash around the waist. The person was also green, with two antennae pointing out horizontal from their forehead.

They were smiling. 'You,' they raised a finger towards General Blue, 'released me?'

Too shocked for words, General Blue could only nod his head.

Then the person who emerged from the rice cooker deepened their smile, far past the point of amicability. 'Then I thank you. You have released the Demon King Piccolo.' Two beams shot out of King Piccolo's eyes and pierced General Blue's chest, stopping his heart.

His first kill in centuries- and such a good feeling, too.


A/N: Haha.

Reviews:

LWexe: Thanks as always for the review. And thank you for rolling with my changes! I figure that if I'm going to fiddle with the entire story, I can put a few things of my own in from time to time.

Silenthawk170: Thank you for the review! Burnout is always a very real hazard but I think I'm writing at a more sustainable pace now than when I first started. I want to see this story to the end!