"All right," Roshi said, tapping the butt of his staff in the sand. He'd once again swapped out his casual fit for the Kame Sen'nin garb we saw at Mt. Frypan. "Let's be off."
Poof.
With some technological magic, Kame House vanished, shrunk down into a capsule the size of a pill.
"How're we going, though?" Goku asked, glancing around at everyone. I could almost hear him counting us off in his head. "I don't think we'll fit on Kinto'un."
"Let's see," Roshi said, perusing his capsule case. "This should do."
Bom.
In a familiar puff of smoke, a large, rounded speedboat appeared just off the island's shore. Roshi helped Lunch into the front passenger seat while we three boys got comfortable in the back. The old hermit flipped the ignition and we were cruising at a decent clip inside of a minute.
"Ah," Roshi said delicately. "Lunch-san? Please take care to avoid sneezing while we're moving."
"I'll do my best!" She promised with a smile.
From memory alone, her nose was fairly ticklish, so not sneezing might've actually been a more significant request than it seemed. Thank God she didn't seem prone to allergies; her violent personality would probably riot.
Our destination came into view after an hour and a bit in the boat. Even at a distance, I counted at least two different biomes on the island. My brother and his Kame classmate were in for a fucking regimen.
Thanks to the convenience of capsules, unloading took a matter of minutes.
Bom.
And Kame House reconstituted on land once more. All that, and we still had daylight to work with.
"All right," Roshi said. "Shall we do some light training until supper?"
"Please!" Kuririn said with a bow.
"Hm?" Roshi glanced around. "Where's Goku gone off to?"
"He took Kinto'un to check out the island," I said, nodding in the direction he'd taken off. "Shouldn't be long getting back."
As if on cue, my brother brought his magic cloud to a halt just over our heads.
"Hey," he said, pointing down to a lower sector of the island. "There's a bunch of other houses around here!"
"Of course," Roshi said. "This island is home to more than 300 residents. Anyway, c'mon down," he said. Sunlight flashed off his shades. "It's time for training."
"Really?!"
Goku jumped straight down without descending on Kinto'un, pumping his arms eagerly as he lined up next to Kuririn.
"Oh boy, oh boy, finally training!"
Kuririn side-eyed my brother with a small, unimpressed frown.
"Um," Lunch said, glancing between Roshi and me. "What should I do?"
"Whatever you like, I guess," I said. "I'm gonna watch for just a bit."
"Then, I'll sta-ah… ah…"
"!"
Goku leapt in front of me; Roshi and Kuririn quickly backpedaled to a nearby rock.
"Ah~n! I'll start dinner!"
Everyone else heaved a sigh as she walked into the house.
"Oh," Goku said, relaxing his stance. "She was just yawning."
"You don't need to be so defensive, kiddo," I assured him, ruffling his hair. "I talked to her, remember?"
"Yeah…" He said, still eyeing where Lunch had disappeared into the house.
"I'll holler if I'm in trouble, okay?"
"Kay."
Over by the boulder, Roshi and Kuririn collected themselves; both respectively pretended they hadn't just fled at the sign of a potential sneeze.
"Hem," Roshi grunted into his fist. "Now, Kuririn, do you have any martial arts experience?"
"Yes! I trained at temple for eight years!"
"I see," Roshi nodded. "Then, both of you should have a grasp on the fundamentals already. So," he said, lifting his staff. "Let's see what you can do."
He dug his staff into the dirt just beside the rock.
"The distance from this rock," he said, pointing. "To that tree is exactly 100 meters. Well," he said, scratching his beard. "Running fast doesn't make you a martial artist, but there's no better way to gauge leg strength."
"Then," Kuririn said, smirking with his hands on his hips. "I'll go first!"
"Oho, confident, aren't you?"
"Of course," he said, glancing at Goku. "I'll show you legs that could qualify for the Olympics."
My brother, being my brother, just grinned back guilelessly, unaware Kuririn was trying to provoke him.
'They have Olympics?'
Roshi stationed himself by the tree, equipped with a stopwatch. He raised his arm to prompt Kuririn into position. The former monk adopted a textbook runner's stance, hands on the ground in front of him.
"Ready," Roshi called. Kuririn shifted his weight a little further forward. "Go!"
Pwoon.
The little guy sprinted at breakneck pace, readily showing that his earlier boast hadn't been empty.
"Kiddo," I said. "Check your shoes."
"Huh? How come?"
"Because you burn through shoes like it's a recreational activity," I said. There were some things I knew through virtue of being his brother, not my notes. "Humor me."
"Um… Ah!"
"Ho," Roshi said. "10.4 seconds, that's impressive!"
"Hah," Kuririn panted a bit. "10.4, huh? My record is 10.1, but that's about right given the conditions."
I joined the two bald boys by the tree with Goku's shoes in hand.
"Hm?" Roshi looked back at the vacant spot by the rock. "Where's Goku gone this time?"
"He's swapping out shoes," I said. I held up one shoe and illustrated how the seams holding the sole together to the rest of the shoe… well, weren't anymore. "You want an accurate assessment, right? Not like this is a contest."
"Hm, true."
"Of course!" Kuririn agreed in a patronizing tone.
I gave him the side-eye and bit back a pitying sigh.
'I said that last part mostly for your benefit, runt.'
"Okay," Goku called, running back out to the starting point. "Can I run now?"
"Right," Roshi said, lifting his arm again. "Ready… Go!"
Shoom!
Roshi's beard actually moved with the backlash of Goku sprinting past all three of us, and somewhat overshooting the target. Kuririn's eyes bugged out.
"Well," Roshi said, recovering from his surprise. "8.5 seconds for Goku."
Thud.
Kuririn fell over, still frozen in shock.
"Izzat fast?!" Goku asked, bounding back over.
"Very good, kiddo."
"Where did you train?" Kuririn asked, jaw slack.
"Quite commendable, you two," Roshi said. "You're incredibly fast. Well done."
Kuririn and Goku both grinned, looking justifiably proud of themselves.
"However," he continued. "You're both still operating within human limits."
"Huh?"
Roshi sloughed off his trademark purple shell and held out the stopwatch.
"Here, Kuririn, you keep time."
"Are you running, Muten Roshi-sama?"
"Mm," he grunted, rolling his shoulders and neck, pushing his clasped fingers out behind his back. He elicited more than a few cracks and pops. "It's been a while since I've exercised, so we'll see how it goes."
I bit my lip and jogged with the boys back to the rock.
'Dammit, he's cool.'
"Okay," Kuririn called. "We're ready!"
"Ah, one moment." Roshi hollered back.
He picked up his shell in one hand and flung it toward us like a discus. The heavy accessory struck the rock and smashed it to pieces.
"All right!"
"Ready," Kuririn raised his arm, thumb poised to hit the stopwatch. "Go!"
ZOOM.
In a blistering streak of orange and blue, Roshi practically disappeared from beside the tree and stopped on a dime just past where we'd lined up.
". . . !"
"Whoa!"
Both boys were rendered practically speechless.
I, vibrating with awe, wasn't much better off.
"How'd I do?" Roshi asked, casual as anything.
"Fi-five… 5.6 seconds!"
"Well," he said, shouldering his shell again. "Sounds about right." He turned and regarded the boys. "That's what I mean by exceeding human limits; such is what it means to be a complete martial artist. With your youth, follow the right regimen and one day you'll even break five seconds."
"Old-timer, you're awesome!"
"Phew," Roshi huffed. "I really am outta shape."
'The Hell are you like at your peak, then?!'
"That sprint left me thirsty. Goku, run inside and fetch me a beer."
My brother just blinked.
"What's a beer?"
"Never mind," I said. "I'm heading in anyway, I'll grab it."
"Goku," I head Roshi say as I walked away. "Being a martial artist requires knowledge as well as strength. I suspect you'll need special training in that area."
My brother just giggled, leaving me to roll my eyes.
Sweet Rice Wine
"Pardon me," I said to Lunch in the kitchen. "Just grabbing a beer for Roshi."
"That's nice of y–ah… ah…"
ACHOO!
I opened the fridge without a backward glance at the sneeze. Roshi had swapped out the one Goku and I emptied with another he kept in a capsule, which helped explain how he maintained his hermit lifestyle.
"Hah?" Came the rougher tones of violent Lunch.
"You're in the kitchen of the old man's house," I said, still rummaging in the fridge for the booze. "We moved the house to another island, but we're still off the grid as far as cops are concerned."
"…"
At her silence, I chanced a look up from behind refrigerator door.
"What?"
"I oughta deck you for that stunt you pulled."
"Huh? Oh…" I realized she meant the pepper in the face. "Sorry. I hadn't explained the situation to, uh, other Lunch yet."
She scowled at me a little longer, then shrugged.
"Meh. I'll let you off this time," she said. She turned her head and mumbled. "Not like anyone else ever asked my opinion."
"Sorry?" I asked, blinking; more surprised by what I'd heard than anything.
"Forget it," she said, untying the apron her gentle persona had put on. She stopped halfway once I shut the fridge door. "That a beer?"
"Um."
"Sweet," she said, snagging it out of my hand. She cracked the bottle open with her fucking teeth and took a healthy swig. "Aah. Damn, that's good."
Fwap.
I suddenly found myself wearing her apron over my face.
"Tell me whenever dinner's ready."
". . . Right."
I tugged the apron off my head. Well, she had an attitude, but it was still a vast improvement over spraying bullets every time she switched personas. I grabbed another beer out of the fridge and took it outside. Roshi and the boys were silent, all staring at the house; clearly, they expected the other shoe to drop any second.
"I'll just leave this here." I called out to them, placing the beer on the front stoop.
Given that Lunch hadn't actually fired any of her guns yet, I couldn't help teasing them a little.
"Anyway," I muttered, wandering back into the kitchen and finding what she'd already started. "This is a no-go."
Gentle Lunch, bless her heart, had given Kame House food poisoning with her first cooked meal. I silently apologized to her, tossed out the pufferfish she'd been preparing, and set about scrounging for some leftovers to put in fried rice.
"I refuse to believe this geezer doesn't have a wok."
Sweet Rice Wine
"Ah," Roshi said, glancing at the reddening, late afternoon sky. "Looks like we have time for one more test before supper."
"Are we gonna run again?" Goku asked.
"Not quite," Roshi said. He scanned the ground and stooped down to pick up a stone a bit larger than his fist. "Here we go."
Kuririn watched, curious, as the old master wrote out the kanji for Kame on the stone and showed it to them.
"Ho!"
The venerable master then chucked the stone over a cliff, toward the jungle sector of the island.
"Muten Roshi-sama," Kuririn said. "Is this a rock-throwing contest?"
"I don't get the Old-timer's thinking." Goku said, picking up his own rock.
For once, Kuririn agreed with his fellow pupil.
"Not throwing," Roshi said. "Retrieving."
"Huh?"
"You mean," Kuririn asked, pointing down at the treetops. "That stone?"
"It might seem unorthodox," Roshi said. "But this exercise actually requires a great deal of mental fortitude and concentration. Well," he said, scratching his beard. "In this case, a decent bit of strength is required, too."
"But you only threw one rock, Old-timer."
"Correct," Roshi agreed. "The first one to find it and bring it back is the one who gets supper."
Kuririn jolted, shocked at the high stakes.
"However," he said, glancing at the setting sun again. "If neither of you are back within thirty minutes, you will both go without supper."
"Aaah!"
Feeling particularly motivated, Kuririn raced Goku to the cliff edge and peered down into the jungle.
"Crap," he said, clenching his fist. "There aren't any footholds!"
Goku, who'd clearly lost his mind, hurled himself out and dove over the edge.
"ARE YOU INSANE?!"
"This is nothin'!" Goku shouted, snagging a branch on the way down.
Said branch broke under his sudden weight; still, he finished the fall intact, if painfully.
"Ah, damn," Kuririn swore, scurrying away. "I gotta go around!"
He stopped in his tracks, struck with a realization. Nobody could find one stone in that jungle in just half an hour. He pondered the dilemma a little bit and grinned. It wasn't really much of a dilemma at all.
Sweet Rice Wine
Roshi sighed internally. He had to give Mirin his due credit; Lunch's alternate persona was clearly violent, but she had agreed to staying and no one had yet gotten hurt. He admitted, if silently, that left to his own devices, he probably wouldn't have handled things quite as well.
He gave violent Lunch another side-eye, gaze safely hidden by his shades. They were both parked on his couch. Lunch sipped at a beer while watching some mindless program on the TV. Between Mirin fixing dinner and a young lady lounging in his living room, Roshi knew where he preferred spending his time.
Violent Lunch had a… particular way of sitting, too; reclined against the couch with her legs splayed out in front of her. Roshi swallowed, turning his head ever so subtly for a better look at her thighs in those–
Bam.
"Muten Roshi-sama!"
Bang!
"Yah-ie!"
Flustered, it took him a moment to register the exact order of events. Kuririn had burst in through the front door; his entrance provoked Lunch into pulling out a pistol and firing just over his head; startled, Roshi leapt up from the couch with a spike in his heart rate.
"Oh," Lunch said, flicking the safety back on. "It's baldie."
She went back to her beer without further comment. Both Roshi and his pupil remained frozen until Mirin poked in his head from the kitchen.
"All good out here?"
"Peachy," Lunch shot back. "Grub ready yet?"
"Few more minutes." Mirin said, returning to his work over the stove.
Roshi cleared his throat and silently led his student outside.
"What is it, Kuririn?"
"I–gasp–I found the stone!"
Roshi raised an eyebrow and held out his hand.
"That was quick," he said mildly, taking the offering from his pupil. "Let's see…"
Thwack!
The stone bounced harshly off Kuririn's head.
"Do you think I'm a fool?" Roshi scolded. "That's not my handwriting! Go find the real one!"
"Yes! I'm sorry!"
Roshi huffed, watching Kuririn scurry off again.
ACHOO!
The sound of a sneeze from inside the house preceded Lunch fretting over the state of supper. Roshi hustled back inside, hoping to catch sight of her in an apron.
Sweet Rice Wine
"Give it back, you jerk!"
Kuririn cackled as he dashed out of the jungle with Goku on his tail. Tricking the naïve hillbilly boy had been almost too easy.
("You really found it, huh?"
"Yep! Now I get supper!"
"Hm, we can't be sure though. It could be a fake."
"It smells like the Old-timer n' everything, though."
"No, I was fooled by a fake earlier, too."
"Really?"
"Here, let me see it a moment… HAHA!")
He'd secured the stone; the time limit was the only obstacle between him and supper.
As for Goku…
Kuririn crossed a ropeway bridge over a gorge just a little sooner than his pursuer; he cut the suspension with well placed chops of his hand, leaving Goku to fall. Given what Kuririn had seen him survive before, he probably wouldn't die.
More importantly, he'd get to eat!
"Work smarter, not harder!" Kuririn declared, racing for the house.
"ORA~H!"
Kuririn glanced over his shoulder to find Goku already at his back again. Clearly, working harder suited some more than others. He clenched his teeth; they were on the final stretch, but Goku was just that little bit faster than him.
"Argh!"
Kuririn shoved the stone inside his uniform to free up his hands and made an about-face.
"You wanna fight, fine!"
"Good, I like it that way!"
Their battle proved… embarrassingly short. To be fair, Kuririn was working on an empty stomach. He surrendered under threat of Goku stomping on him.
"Give it!"
"I'm gonna find out where you trained one day," Kuririn said, reaching into his uniform. He brought out the stone. "Go get it!"
And hurled it with all his might away from the house.
Goku squawked and took off again.
"You–! You–! Big stupid!"
Kuririn snickered, retrieving the genuine article from his uniform.
"Sorry~," he trilled, jogging to the house. "That was the fake I used earlier!"
Ah, victory tasted sweet. Though, not as good as hot meal!
"Muten Roshi-sama!"
Sweet Rice Wine
"Psst," I whispered. "Kiddo."
Dinner had gone better than expected; that is, better than if pufferfish had stayed on the menu. No one got sick, Lunch didn't switch personas during the meal, and I confirmed that I did remember how to make fried rice.
"Mm…" Goku whined where he lay, hands clutching his stomach.
Of course, eating while my kid brother could only stare at the table with abject hunger made things a little uncomfortable for me. None of the others seemed to mind, though. Thankfully, my conscience was assuaged by what I'd prepared separately for him.
"Here," I said, pulling out a not-quite rice ball comprised of what I'd cooked. We'd already gone to our room for the night, and I'd stashed the morsel away earlier. "Growing boys shouldn't go to bed hungry."
Goku goggled at the lukewarm mound of rice, pork and veggies. A line of drool leaked out of the corner of his mouth. Nonetheless, he shook his head with a tremendous effort.
"But," he protested, wiping his chin. "The test–I didn't"
"Think of it this way," I said. "This isn't dinner. It's a snack. You already went without dinner, so you can have a snack."
NOM.
Goku, easily persuaded, snatched the rice… shape from my hands and started chowing down before I'd finished.
"Bwah," Goku heaved a loud sigh of relief and collapsed flat on our futon. "Thanks, aniki."
"No problem, kiddo." I murmured softly; he'd already fallen asleep.
I lay down beside him. Maybe I shouldn't have gone behind Roshi's back, but cutting Goku one break couldn't hurt.
Neither he nor Kuririn were going to have any breaks after dawn tomorrow, anyway.
