"Why am I in an apron half the time I see you?"

Lunch asked, scowling at me after a sneeze in the kitchen. Her timing wasn't the best, as we'd been in the middle of preparing breakfast, and I didn't know what Lunch had already done.

"Blue likes to help in the kitchen." I said, distracted; I tried to figure out where Lunch had left off and where that left me in terms of timing things so breakfast came out warm.

". . . Blue?" Lunch parroted, tone indicating a question.

"Other Lunch is a bit of a mouthful to say each time."

"What am I, then? Blonde?"

"Hasn't come up yet, but that was the plan," I confessed, cracking a couple eggs. "I can think of alternatives, if you prefer."

Lunch sauntered toward the living room with a dismissive shrug.

"Don't put yourself out, Twig."

I took that to mean she'd given her tacit approval.

"On the subject of names," I said, calling after her. "Mine's Mirin."

"I didn't ask!" She shot back.

"I noticed that," I muttered. "That's why I volunteered it."

Bam.

The front door swung open; contrary to the last time, Lunch didn't react with bullets.

"Aniki," Goku groaned, trudging inside just a hair ahead of Kuririn. "Hungry."

"Few more minutes, boys."

I glanced at the clock; they were later than the first day, though still a little earlier than expected. Given that, on day two, they were working against not just muscle fatigue, but an extra 20 kilos on their backs, I'd anticipated a larger discrepancy in between breakfast times.

Clearly, neither one of them were losing out on determination.


Sweet Rice Wine


"Hi, aniki!"

"Hey, kiddo… did you have a growth spurt?"

Goku looked about the size of his Ozaru form, grinning down at me.

"I'm just Kuririn sized!" He said.

A glance around confirmed that Kuririn was, indeed, taller than I remembered, though still a standard-issue human; a blink, and Goku returned to a comfortable Goku size. He took a running start and leapt, arms out; I tried lifting mine to catch him.

The next moment–one that lasted an eternity–a massive weight encased my midsection; my ribcage went squish and my lungs left the building entirely.

Goku, who'd ended up behind me, cocked his head.

"Grandpa?"


Sweet Rice Wine


"AH!"

I woke up gasping, scrambling out from under the blanket Goku shared with me. My brother had already left; I staggered downstairs and checked the clock. He and Kuririn left home a bit more than half an hour earlier. A week into their training, Goku didn't need me or Roshi to wake him up anymore; he reacted to the alarm clock downstairs.

"Whew…"

I drank a glass of water and hung my head over the sink.

"Hell was that?"


Sweet Rice Wine


"What're you doing?" Lunch asked after coming downstairs later that morning. Her gaze had been locked on me for a full minute before speaking.

"Push-ups." I said from the floor.

"My eyes work just fine, Twig," she said, snarking at me. "Why?"

"I'm training," I said, taking a breath between reps. "So that my brother doesn't snap me in half next time he goes in for a hug."

". . ."

I finished my set and rolled onto my back. One side benefit of having been an otaku in my previous life; no Dragon Ball fan I'd ever met didn't know, in some capacity, about strength training. Goku tended to inspire most to at least attempt sculpting their physique.

"What?" I asked, wrinkling my nose at the look Lunch was giving me.

"Don't get insecure over little old me, Twig."

I blinked. Twice. It took me a minute to realize she thought the 'snapped in half' thing had been figurative, not literal; that I'd made up some excuse.

"Get over yourself," I muttered, returning to my slapdash regimen. Lunch laughed at me and walked into the kitchen. "Just don't tell Goku."

Explaining my reasons to him would be infinitely more awkward.


Sweet Rice Wine


"Mirin-san," Lunch said cheerily, waltzing into the living room. "I've cleaned the toilet and tub!"

"Oh. Thanks, Lunch," I said, pausing in taking the sheets outside to be washed. "You didn't have to; I went through there already this week."

Lunch's eyebrows jumped and her fingertips tapped her cheek.

"I thought it seemed clean–you work fast, Mirin-san!"

I frowned a little; something in the conversation wasn't quite connecting.

"Lunch, I did that Thursday afternoon."

I'd set up a rudimentary schedule for doing certain chores outside of food prep; my former strategy of waiting until the laundry's smell repelled Goku's sensitive nose had worked in the mountains, but, like many things, that didn't fly amongst civilized people.

My innocent doe-eyed housemate blinked at me.

"It's not Thursday?"

"No," I said slowly. "It's Saturday."

"Oh," she said, glancing up at the ceiling in thought. "It doesn't really feel like the weekend."

". . ."

I glanced at the living room calendar; Roshi didn't have one until a few days after our move to the larger island, which implied that he either had an insane internal clock or he kept track of time in relation to the Tenkaichi. In any case, the boys had been excited seeing the month change to September, leaving them that much closer to the tournament.

None of us had gotten into a habit of crossing off the days, though.

"Okay," Lunch said, smiling. "I'll get started on breakfast!"


Sweet Rice Wine


ACHOO!

Lunch sniffed, swiping her foot over the grass. Blue–Twig's dumb idea of naming her personas had gotten into her head–had been outside, probably singing to rodents or whatever. Lunch spun on her heel and headed back for the house.

"Afternoon," Twig said as she walked in. She grunted. "Would you like your own calendar?"

Lunch paused in flipping up sofa cushions to find the remote and looked at him.

"Hah?"

He didn't say anything, just waiting for her address the question. It'd been at least a month, and she still hadn't quite figured him out.

"What for?"

"To keep track of what day it is," he said. "Well, you and Blue. No one else would use it, so you can cross off the days yourself; that way you could keep track of the date, even if you don't sneeze for a while."

'How's he come up with this shit?'

No one else ever had.

"What do I need to keep track for," she asked, snatching up the remote and plopping onto the sofa. "I'm on vacation."

He shrugged, all casual.

"Just a thought. Figured it might be nice."

Lunch frowned. Maybe other people could have come up with the same idea; she just didn't have any experience knowing anyone who would care to think of what would be 'nice' for her.

"Sure." She grunted, waving a hand at him.

Mirin smiled and ran upstairs; he came back down seconds later, equipped with a handful of Zeni.

"…thanks." She muttered as he left.


Sweet Rice Wine


Rogafufuken!

Wham!

Yamcha sent the dojo's beefiest disciple to the ground; the rest went flying bodily out the front door.

"Feh," he scoffed, rolling out his shoulders. "Boasting about the strongest dojo in Metro West; they're nothing but city boys!"

He frowned at his fist, dissatisfied.

"Just a few more months," he murmured, walking outside. "Train hard, Goku; at this rate, you might be the only decent fight I get!"

"Yamcha-sama~!"

"…!"

The desert bandit's ears turned hot. He was used to hearing the affectionate call of his name in Puar's voice; months of tentative dating, though, and he still hadn't quite adjusted to hearing Bulma say it.


Sweet Rice Wine


"Hey," Kuririn said, panting as he trudged just behind Goku through the desert. "When do you think we'll learn fighting styles?"

"Dunno…" Goku said, gasping.

They didn't speak again until the next leg of their delivery route; talking wasted precious energy.

"Till we can move that huge rock," Goku said. "I don't think he'll teach us anything!"

Screaming, at least in response to a prehistoric pursuer, was acceptable.

"AAAH!"


Sweet Rice Wine


Months passed, and we'd approached something resembling comfortable cohabitation, even allowing for Lunch's more volatile persona.

Whether they realized it or not, the boys had just about conquered the training regimen that had once seemed so insurmountable. Both of them actually pre-empted Roshi's alarm in the morning; just by a minute or two, granted, but still. Neither of them needed me to carry them into the bath after dinner every few days; I occasionally did so regardless, if only to justify my own secret regimen.

As for dinner… well, dinner was a show in itself. Lunch never questioned me again about how much rice we needed every week. Kuririn actually matched Goku grain for grain at meal times; given my brother's supernatural appetite, they were a spectacle.

"They're progressing faster than I thought." Roshi commented one night after the boys had passed out.

I grinned to myself; the Tenkaichi was going to be awesome.


Sweet Rice Wine


Roshi's supervision of their training turned intermittent as the months passed. When he didn't join them at the lake after construction work, Goku took turns trying to move the boulder with Kuririn. Sometimes the rock groaned; other times, he heaved and shoved until his shoes left tracks in the dirt. It never budged.

"!"

Until…

"Waaah!"

Kuririn grabbed Goku's hands; they jumped up and down, speechless.

"I'll go get the Old-timer!"

He sped off back toward home; he couldn't wait to show Mirin and Roshi!


Sweet Rice Wine


"OLD-TIMER~!"

We heard Goku yelling a full minute before he slammed open the front door; Lunch, Roshi and I were enjoying a scoop of ice cream in the living room.

"Old-timer, aniki," Goku said, practically vibrating. "Come see, quick!"

"Noisy today, huh." Lunch grunted, taking another bite of ice cream.

"Hm?" Roshi looked up, speaking around his spoon. "What's up?"

"Just c'mon," he said, snatching at Roshi's wrist. He grinned and waved his other hand at me. "C'mon, hurry, hurry!"

"Okay, okay," I said, standing up. I glanced at Lunch with an ill-contained grin of my own. "You should tag along; you might be impressed."

Lunch raised an eyebrow. She shrugged and ate the last of her treat in one mouthful.

"Meh, nothing better to do."


Sweet Rice Wine


"Wh-what's the hurry?" Roshi asked.

Goku didn't answer, dragging him along with Mirin and Lunch somewhere behind them. The boy finally released his wrist as they came upon a massive boulder.

"Here," Goku declared, proud. "This is it!"

"…" Roshi blinked, staring at the rock as Mirin and Lunch caught up. "Is there a problem with this boulder?"

"We can move it now!" Kuririn said.

"Watch!" Goku said, taking position beside it.

"!"

Roshi startled; he'd honestly forgotten what he'd told them all those months ago.

"You don't mean–!"

"Hnnngh!"

Goku grunted; his feet dug into the ground beneath him, and he went red in the face.

The huge rock groaned, and the ground shifted; finally, it gave way to the boy's sheer might, and moved.

Roshi's shades damn near slid off his face.

"Holy shhh…" Lunch muttered.

Mirin leapt over to his panting brother, scrubbing feverishly through his hair with both hands in vicarious excitement.

"I'll go next," Kuririn said. "I can't move it quite as far, but please watch!"

Before Roshi's eyes, the former monk child too, proved the boulder to be far from an immovable object.

"You see what I meant," Mirin whispered. "About snapping me in half?"

Lunch could only nod.

"Heh," Lunch chuckled. "You kids were doin' more than just playing around, huh?"

"You're both awesome." Mirin said.

Kuririn's ears flushed and he giggled breathlessly. Goku flashed a grin at Roshi.

"We did it! You'll teach us martial arts now, right?"

Roshi absently picked his jaw up off the ground.

"Hem!" He said, collecting himself. "Not too shabby, boys!"

'I only meant to give them a goal so they'd focus on their training. I never thought they'd actually move it!'

"I need a drink after that." Lunch said, leading the group back to the house.

Roshi let Mirin celebrate the success with his brother and Kuririn on the way back; Son the elder joined Lunch back in the house, and Roshi regarded his prodigious pupils.

"Oh boy, oh boy," Kuririn murmured eagerly. "Finally, martial arts!"

"We'll work hard, Old-timer!" Goku promised.

"Right," Roshi said. He cleared his throat. "The truth is, I don't have much more to teach you."

Kuririn blinked. Goku tilted his head.

"Huh?"

"But"

"All the fundamentals of the Eternal Kame School were incorporated into the training you've done for the past nine months."

Both of his students stared at him.

"You may not have noticed," he said, making a fist. "But your eyes, your fists and legs–indeed, your entire bodies–as well as your minds have been whipped into shape."

He lifted his staff, holding it behind his back.

"Fighting styles are nothing more than the application of these basics," he said. Perhaps he should've expected their obvious disbelief; they'd only really interacted with each other. Their regimen didn't allow for much interaction with others, even Mirin or Lunch, despite being in the same house. They had no sense of how much they'd grown. "You should use what I've taught you to develop and master your own martial arts styles."

"Old-timer," Goku said. "Can we really win without techniques?"

"Martial arts aren't about winning," Roshi reminded him. "It's about bettering yourselves."

"But," Kuririn protested. "If we want to win at the Tenkaichi…"

"Like I said," Roshi said, not unkindly. "Your goal isn't to win. You couldn't, anyway."

They were, after all, still children.

"You should approach the Tenkaichi as a chance to test your abilities, and thus, grow even further."

He hefted his shell off his back, holding it out in front of him.

"That's why, for the month we have left, you'll be doing exactly what you've been doing."

"EH?!"

"But you'll be carrying double the weight," he said, letting his shell fall with a chonk onto the ground. "40 kilos!"


Sweet Rice Wine


"Hey, Goku," Kuririn said, helping his classmate carry an I-beam. "Do you really think we can make it into the tournament just by doing this stuff?"

"Hm," Goku hummed, doubtful. "Only eight people outta a whole bunch can participate, right? I dunno…"


Sweet Rice Wine


"You gonna come watch?" I asked Lunch, preparing one of our last dinners at Kame House before the tournament.

"What," she huffed, sitting at the table while I worked. "A bunch of grown men get picked on by kids? I'll pass, I'm not that twisted."

"Debatable." I said.

"Heh, fuck you," she laughed. "Why're you going? Thought you were a pacifist."

At some point, Blonde had opened up to the idea of more conversation than the bare minimum, so she actually knew all our names and a little bit about us. Not that she always used said names.

"I'm not a saint," I said, turning around to the stove. "Besides, committing violence makes me uncomfortable; not supporting Goku? Impossible."

"Gonna cheer for your brother, then?"

With my attention split between the hot food and the conversation, my response came out on autopilot.

"Which one?"

"!"

My brain caught up with my mouth a second later; my face went a little warm and I hesitated in glancing over my shoulder at Lunch.

"Uh, I mean"

"HA!" She barked. "Won't Baldie be happy." She leaned over the table, smirking with her chin in her hand. "Sap. Guess that suits a twig, though."

"Oh, shut up," I countered. "You know you love us."

She didn't say anything; she just curled back all but her middle finger, leaving it in plain sight against her cheek. I snorted.

"Anyway," I said after a pause. "I probably won't be coming back here afterward."

"Huh."

Lunch's voice went a little flat; void of the teasing derision she'd been hurling at me.

"Don't worry," I said. "I'll have many occasions to visit."

"That a fact?" She asked, getting up and walking to the fridge; she pulled out a beer.

"Yep," I said. "Didn't I tell you? I know things."

She rolled her eyes and cracked open her bottle.


Sweet Rice Wine


Far away from the civilized community of Metro West, a martial artist ran wild in the mountains. He'd abandoned his uniform, only wearing the minimum covering necessary for protection rather than decency. He contested other wildlife and predators daily, challenging himself with new regimens as often as his body allowed.

Yamcha loosed an open palm strike on a huge boulder at the mountain's base; he blew a hole straight through the rock and it caved in on itself.

The former bandit took a breath and lifted his unkempt hair from his eyes.

"It's been a month," he said, glancing at the moon. "I guess I should return to the city."

Three days remained.


Sweet Rice Wine


"Okay, boys," Roshi said, standing beside the car with me. "You all set?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Ossu!"

"Before we go," he said. "Take off your shells."

Goku and Kuririn smiled at each other.

"Oh, good," Kuririn said. "I was worried we'd look silly with these on!"

The boys went silent once they relieved themselves of the weight; both experimentally swung their arms and hopped in place.

"I feel super light!" Goku said. "It's like I don't weigh anything!"

"Try jumping as high as you can." Roshi suggested.

Goku and Kuririn exchanged a look. Without a word, they crouched and jumped.

PWOON.

Up they went, sailing high over our heads, easily ten meters or more.

"Are we…"

"…flying?"

Thump.

Goku and Kuririn beamed at each other, astounded.

"Whoa!"

"Awesome!"

Roshi chuckled knowingly; my brother and… screw it, both my brothers scurried around the house, giggling at their own speed.

"Boys," Lunch called. Goku and Kuririn, lighter on their feet than they'd ever been, were in front of her in the space of a blink. "I have a present for you."

She looked a little shy as they opened up the package; their eyes went wide.

"Wow!"

"Lunch-san, you made these?"

Their reactions left her with a dusting of pink over her nose.

"Uh huh!"

They ran inside; I found another package in front of me.

"There's one for you too, Mirin-san!"

"Oh, thanks!"

I followed the boys inside; we came traipsing out in a line, ready for Lunch's inspection.

"You're all so handsome!" She cooed, clapping her hands.

"Hee," Goku grinned, glancing between me and Kuririn. "You guys look kinda funny."

"Check a mirror." Kuririn said, nudging him with a matching grin.

Lunch hadn't skimped on effort; she'd made all three of us matching suits, with the works. Sports coat, tie, slacks and wide-brimmed fedoras in shades of blue over white collared button-downs and black loafers.

"Thank you, Lunch." I said, nudging Goku with my hand.

"Thank you!" He and Kuririn said at the same time.

"Let's go," Roshi said, urging us to say our goodbyes. "Our flight leaves soon."

With a quick hug from each of us, Lunch waved as we piled into the passenger seats. Roshi poked his head out the driver's side window.

"Lunch-san, please look after the place!"

"Take care!" She called as we drove off.


Sweet Rice Wine


"Whoa~!" Goku exclaimed, staring out the window by his seat. "This huge thing can fly?! 'S not as fast as Kinto'un, of course."

"Bumpkin." Kuririn muttered, holding up a newspaper.

"Let him have his fun, runt." I said from beside him.

A stewardess made her way down the aisle.

"Excuse me," she said. "Would anyone like some refreshments?"

Sitting in the row across from us, Roshi none-too-subtly copped a feel over the stewardess' skirt. She startled and swung out with the only thing she had to hand.

Kong!

Her tray of drinks.

"Oh," she said. "Pardon me!"

I casually lifted my hand in front of my face.

'I don't know him. I don't know him.'

Some time later, near the end of the flight, Goku reached over Kuririn to grab my attention.

"Aniki," he said, pointing out the window. "The ground's glowing!"

"That's the city, kiddo," I said, looking outside next to him. "Lots of lights go up at night."

He oohed and aahed right up until we landed. The four of us lined up on the sidewalk outside the small airport; Goku's head was on a swivel, looking every which way.

"Wow," he said, mouth open. "This is the city?"

"Oi," Kuririn muttered. "Don't gawk at everything!"

"You," I said, nudging the runt's head. "Shouldn't pretend you're not excited."

"I'm not pretending!" He snapped, indignant. He blinked a moment later. "Wait, I mean"

"Taxi!" Roshi called, cutting into our little fish-out-of-water routine. He raised his staff, signaling to the nearest cab.

"Here we go, boys." I whispered, ushering them into the back with poorly contained excitement. Up front, Roshi gave the cabbie our destination.

"The Tenkaichi Budokai grounds, please."