Not satisfied with the few answers the teenager gave the gang, Piccolo took it upon himself to ask for a spar. Fists don't lie, after all.
"Kid, want to spar?"
Yamcha and Krillin choked on their drink, Gohan voiced a worried protest at the idea, Vegeta scoffed and Trunks just blinked in disbelief at the Namekian's words- at his offer? Request? Her Gohan never mentioned his mentor's voice, but somehow it sounded exactly like she expected it to sound. Deep, distant, restrained, determined. He's waiting for an answer, she blinked again and nodded, unlocking her fingers to free her leg and stand. She unclipped her sword and left it on the rock, figuring a spar wouldn't require the use of her weapon. That was as much an agreement as he expected, so Piccolo took off slowly and landed down on the battlefield. Trunks landed nearby, then looked up at the rest who had gathered on the cliff to watch the match. Even Vegeta. Shit, should've refused. Plan E?
A loud thud forced her eyes back to her opponent, he'd removed cape and turban. Weighted clothing, from the sound of it. Nobody mentioned the antennae to her. Bulma and Gohan had mentioned he was tall, but not my height and a half tall. Trunks removed her jacket, loosely folded it and put it down far behind. Better not endanger the precious cargo in combat. She walked back to face the Namekian. Her Gohan had told her how much of a tactician Piccolo truly was. Trunks had wanted to say she wouldn't transform, that it was a friendly spar, but she realized Piccolo knew already. All encompassed in the definition of 'spar', in a way, and his ki was kept low. The green alien's stance was almost at ninety degrees; feet firmly on the ground, weight on both, arms in guard with little openings. A silent understanding was met, and she matched with a low boxing guard of her own.
Since he was the one who offered, Piccolo shifted his weight back, and then front to charge, right fist closed and aiming straight to the head. Trunks ducked and struck to return the favor, but her right fist met the other's open hand instead of his stomach. Since she was in his guard, he brought down his elbow to strike her down, and she quickly lifted her left forearm to block the blow. They pushed each other off and guarded again.
"Seems you're not just all brute strength," Piccolo commented, and shook his left hand, the hand that had blocked her fist, to let the other know he'd felt that. Trunks made a similar move, turning her left forearm to move the muscles that soaked the Namekian's elbow. That kinda stung, even if she'd broken that arm more than a couple of times before.
"You flatter me, Piccolo-san," Trunks somewhat appreciated the praise, but knew it was not deserved, and the tone conveyed she truly dismissed it. Like she'd told Gohan earlier, she wasn't a martial artist, and her technique wasn't refined. She could only really hold her own, tactically speaking, because she was smaller and faster.
It was her turn to attack first, rushing forward, right hand held back, left forearm forward. Piccolo anticipated, planted his feet and crossed his forearms in front of him to soak her incoming fist. He uncrossed before she could follow up with her other hand, breaking the lock and forcing her arm up with the momentum. That opened her flawed guard, and he kneed through it, hard. Trunks was pushed up back flying, she only stopped when she flipped to land on her feet and hands instead of straight up on her back against the cliff. That hit sucked the air out of her. She rose up, tapped her hands to dust off and charged again.
They continued trading blows while the others observed; the initial worry Gohan had expressed was put to ease. Bulma complained about not being able to see it all, so Yamcha gave her a sort of translation-description of what he saw and felt. They were a solid thirty meters above the action, too, so while they were slow enough to follow with their eyes, it was simply too far for the Capsule Crop genius to make up the details. Yamcha's arm around her waist reassured her as she leaned to try and look.
"I didn't hear them agree on terms," Krillin said, squinting his eyes so he could see as well as feel. Gohan confirmed he didn't, either. "Is it first blood?"
"Their ki and stances did the talking," Tenshinhan answered the 'how' but not the 'what'. He knew how Piccolo fought, after their time on King Kai's planet, so he focused on this mysterious savior instead.
"Well he's giving Piccolo a run for his mouth without using that super Saiyan transformation," Krillin observed. "He's strong too, look at that pushback."
Gohan added with a nod, "Piccolo-san is not holding back. The mister is faster though." Naturally the boy paid more attention to his master than to the stranger, but he tried to learn something from the fight. "He's also able to get past Piccolo-san's guard often."
Tenshinhan partially agreed with what Gohan observed, but he saw many flaws in the teenager's positioning. He left himself open on many occasions, and Piccolo seized the opportunity when possible. The kid's speed was what saved him from many direct hits, but after a few other exchanges, Tenshinhan realized the hits didn't even register on the boy's demeanor.
"So the kid moved down when Piccolo tried to aim for his head, and he tried to punch up but Piccolo blocked-" Yamcha explained to Bulma and eyed the other fighters observing the fight and asked, "He's quite lean too, don't you think?"
"No, his muscles are well defined, he just has a small frame," Chaozu corrected; he had the best eyesight of them all. He looked at Tenshinhan, who confirmed his observation with a brief glance.
"Kid went into Piccolo's guard but he kneed him out," Yamcha winced, he knew that was a painful hit. "That or puberty hasn't hit yet? And he stands right back up like nothing, damn."
Vegeta frowned. The stupid comments from useless weaklings bothered him almost as much as the pathetic fight he was watching. Yes the teenager had a smaller build, one similar to Freeza's, Jeice's, or even his own. But that brat didn't make use of it at all, and it was infuriating. Fighting as equals with the Namekian, who was taller than Nappa, made no goddamn sense. This kid obviously had also achieved the legendary super Saiyan, but went easy on the Namekian on purpose, or lacked technique and compensated with raw talent. Either option was unforgivable in the eyes of the Saiyan Prince. Pfft, a friendly spar, useless bullshit.
"So he tried to make Piccolo lose his balance by sweeping his legs but Piccolo avoided that, and he punished the open guard with a kick." Yamcha continued for Bulma's benefit. "Well he's resilient I think. He doesn't hit as often but those punches seem painful."
Tenshinhan was coming around to have the same observations Vegeta had, but with a different approach. Piccolo hadn't avoided the leg swipe, the kid was just not close enough. This kid, who fought and killed Freeza and his father in an instant, seemingly had no martial arts training per se. He tanked Piccolo's blows like they were nothing when he couldn't block or dodge them.
Piccolo had set up the fight to get to know this mysterious kid. Why talk when fists, stances, and eyes didn't lie? This kid could wipe the floor with him, as evidenced by the state of the battlefield in which they were sparing. Trunks eventually realized that had been the goal all along, she remembered how he'd been looking at the result of her fight against Freeza, and now it made sense why he'd asked for a spar. The spar also brought some memories from the ones she had while training with her Gohan, and her paranoid mind started to consider whether he'd recognize some of Gohan's fighting style in her. Piccolo kind of trained me by proxy, actually. Fuck, he can't know.
The distraction slowed the halfling enough for Piccolo's double hammer punch to land on her back. Something faintly cracked, and Trunks' eyes flashed teal a split second. She phased right under him, her right elbow deep into his sternum, her left hand pushing on her right fist to give it extra strength. The Namekian spat blood and Trunks leaped away. Piccolo growled at the pain, and regenerated the shattered bones.
"Tough little shit aren't you," he half complimented, half insulted, wiping the blood off his lips.
"You are tough yourself, Piccolo-san," Trunks retorted with a forced smile, properly standing with no stance. "I forfeit, I can't match your skill," she added while vaguely arranging her hair back into a side part. It'd be bad if he cracked the binder again. It's not like she could repair it or change; thankfully it didn't move, so the crack was only superficial. She took a look at the scratches on her arms, Piccolo's talons were no joke. Accidentally killing Piccolo because he awoke my thirst for blood wasn't part of the what could go wrong list.
Piccolo frowned but agreed to call it quits, he didn't get enough intel from this short spar, but it was better to stop there than risk serious injury. He watched the teen walk back to retrieve the jacket, so clearly the crack he felt under his hands was neither the spine or the ribs. The kid also showed no discomfort putting back on the garment. "I'll join you shortly, gimme a minute," Trunks casually said to the Namekian, in a much more friendly manner than she'd spoken before. He observed a gesture the teen had done before; patting pants pockets. She pulled out a small box, opened it, took a small white straw-like object from it, putting one end between her lips and burning the other end. Piccolo had no idea what this kid was doing, but he retrieved his weighted clothes and joined the others with a leap.
The stress relief nasty habit won. Her mother disapproved, despite indulging in it herself, but there was no stopping her once the teenager growled it dulled the smell of death.
Smoking is bad, kids! Toriyama often self-inserts his own nasty habit in his manga and illustrations. I'm using it for a narrative purpose and it's meant to be a bad thing, so please don't romanticize it?