Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Second Chances for Bardock's Sons ❯ The 23rd Budokai ( Chapter 11 )

Second Chances for Bardock's Son's

The 23rdBudokai

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Ball Z or Dragon Ball. I only own Tomic, Cabernet, and a few other fan characters. Toriyama and Funimation Toei Bird Studios Shuesha own DBZ. I don't get rich off this! This is Fan fiction! Don't sue me!

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That next day, two cloaked figures landed before the Tournament booth sign in. Tall turbans crowned their heads, while the male figure strode forwards and glared down at the judges. He signed his own name, and she scribbled something in both English and Japanese.

"Ma Junior, is it? And Maj-atomic," he nodded. "You're new to the tournament."

"Not that it's any of your business," Piccolo glared at him. "Where do we wait?"

"Go in through there for the locker rooms. Ladies on the left, men on the right. You'll get your lottery numbers soon," he said.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw many fighters lined up alongside and behind them in their various outer clothes. Others wore their fighting costumes already but carried duffel bags. Tomic desperately reached out with her mind hoping that the sensations she had felt were true. Disturbed dreams had given way to thoughts of Raditz and Goku.

"This way," Piccolo grunted, nudging her away from the main crowds to an isolated spot. It was still early in the morning, with many fighters still showing up to sign in. Even though they'd sent in their entry forms, if they didn't sign up in person they'd forfeit their spots. Eyes glued to the two turbaned figures milling in the shadows. If Piccolo was trying not to attract attention he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"Where are we going?"

"To watch the fighting. Don't ask stupid questions, female," said Piccolo. "The less you talk the better for both of us."

Folding his arms he levitated upwards in the shade of a building, gesturing her to join him. He held the remote control for the ki dampener. A twist of a dial gave her enough to allow her to float up by his side and stand. They were on the roof of the pagoda overlooking a huge square grid. People shoved against one another for the best view of the fighting space.

"That's where the semifinals will be. But it looks as if we'll have to go inside for the preliminaries," he grunted. "Meet me here after qualification. I will know where you are at all times, so don't run off. Some of my people are also watching from the staff as well."

"Fine let's get this over with," she grunted, hating the collar around her neck.

"Women this way, males this way," called the judges. "Please line up and take your numbers. You'll be paired up in six blocks. There are seventy-two entrants, which is significantly less then last year. But all of you are the world's finest fighters."

Tomic glanced around, unable to sense much but the huge collection of ki. She had never leaned well how to sense it on her own, and relying on a scouter hadn't helped much. Fortunately Piccolo had pounded a few last minute lessons into her head. The uneasy alliance disturbed her, for she wondered if he would keep his word not to kill Goku completely.

"Excuse me," said a voice as a blue smocked female bumped into her.

"Apologies," Tomic said. Her eyes widened at the sight of a familiar pair of black eyes, and a young face.

"It's just been a while since I've competed. I've not seen you here before," she said.

"It's my first time competing at this level," she murmured quietly.

"I'm Son Chichi," the woman smiled. "Don't mind me but I just got married."

"Maj-atomic," said Tomic, providing her Piccolo derived alias. "The pleasure is mine. Is your husband also competing?"

"He's over there!" she pointed, where five figures stood staggered in the male's line. She couldn't clearly see all of them, but she saw Piccolo's glaring expression staring everyone down.

"The one with the funny hair?" asked Atomique.

"Yeah, isn't he handsome?" laughed Chichi.

"Chichi, there's something I have to tell you, if we get a moment alone. Will you stay with me while we're waiting to fight?"

"If you want to," said Chichi, blinking at her. "Why's your face covered up? Part of the mystery eh?"

"Meet me after your first qualifier and I'll tell you. But please be careful. And tell your husband to do the same. My fighting partner's most anxious to duel with him."

"Does he know Goku?"

"He's met him by reputation," said Atomique.

"This way. Ladies will please report to their designated spots once your number has been drawn. A ten-minute intermission for necessary breaks will be given. Please secure your costumes. Note that no helmets or weapons are allowed. Masks are permitted, but they must be easily securable."

Her heart leapt at having made contact with a potential ally. Chichi and Maj-atomic strode side by side as they entered the huge qualification chamber. At least six raised stages were set up to serve as fighting rings. On the wall hung a complex diagram with names scribbled down on them. She strained her eyes to see who was matched with whom.

"Number 16, please step up," said the announcer, tossing his microphone up and catching it.

"That's me," Chichi said. "Hope you make it to the semi."

"See you and best of luck," Maj-atomic nodded, glancing desperately around for the other Z fighters. Fortunately she saw Krillen facing off against a huge hulking mass, while Yamcha stared down his first opponent. Tien and Chiautzu were in the crowd to the side, while she saw Goku step up opposite an Indian fellow in a yellow toga.

"First bout, Son Goku versus Choppa," the judge called.

"Damn, it's really him. He looks so young," Maj-atomic thought as she peered through dark sunglasses at him. Piccolo moved so he was right by her side, sending an intimidating smirk to hopefully catch his eyes.

"That is him. Doesn't look like much, but he's quite powerful," Piccolo grunted. "But I'm sensing another power almost as strong, nearby."

"Where?"

"Over there with the rest of his loser friends," said Piccolo. She couldn't see clearly but she did notice more than just three wearing the orange uniforms of Master Roshi.

"Number 57 and 23 please report to ring 6," said another announcer. Shock filled her when she saw the tallest of Master Roshi's students, a strong fellow with a long shaggy black ponytail. Black boots vibrated the ring as he climbed up, and faced off against an alligator in white karate gi.

"What the hell?" she blinked.

"You bothered by something?" Piccolo grunted.

"I don't remember him being a student of Master Roshi," she whispered.

"I want to watch Son Goku fight. Remain here," said Piccolo. He sauntered off to intimidate Goku who was just lining up for his first match against Choppa.

Maj-atomic quickly pushed her way towards the fighter, wondering why he looked so familiar. Arrogantly he moved into a pose with one foot planted on the ground, and the other slightly bend before him with the toe pointed. His hands were laterally and perpendicularly held before him. Dark eyes glared at the opponent who squatted a bit.

"All right, get ready gentlemen. Clean fight."

"I eat long haired twits like you for breakfast."

"Don't push your luck fool. I'm no pushover," he said in a deep voice that sent shivers down her spine. Gasping she realized why he was so familiar. He was a dead ringer for her mate, Raditz. Rubbing her eyes she wondered if she was seeing things.

A fist flashed out, and he vanished easily. "Come back here and face me!"

"Idiot," taunted the Z warrior, slamming a crushing blow into his back. The Alligator crumpled like a broken doll, rolling over and out of the ring with the momentum.

"Winner! Son Radz!" called the announcer, holding up his arms.

"Humph, I told you so, fool," he smirked, glancing down as everyone looking on stared in awe.

"How can it be," she gasped, stepping forwards. Dare she approach him? Surely it couldn't be he, because he wouldn't stoop to the level of camouflaging himself.

"Come!" Piccolo grunted, grabbing her arm and tugging her away. She protested till she realized she didn't want to blow things if it were he. Despite her urges to rush over and grab him and hug him tightly.

 

In between the matches the Z fighters stretched and meditated. Goku remained near his brother Raditz, and when he couldn't either Krillen or Yamcha did. They shivered at the angered look in Raditz' eyes while he scanned the crowd. Desperately he wanted to use his scouter, but they had convinced him it would be a bad idea. Still he kept it in a pocket of the training gi. Chichi had altered one of Goku's uniforms to accommodate him, and he felt strangely naked in only cloth.

 

"These clothes are flimsy," he muttered to Yamcha.

 

"But they're easier to fight in," Yamcha said, chugging down a bottle of sport drink. Raditz mumbled and accepted a huge gallon jug from the cooler next to him. Krillen shouted and jumped up and down, rushing towards them.

 

"I won! I did it!" Krillen laughed. "So, what about you guys?"

 

"I'm in," said Yamcha.

 

"Is there any question, Cueball," muttered Raditz.

 

"Huh, don't look so happy for me," Krillen blinked at him. "Oh wait I know why you're so cranky. You still haven't found your girl, have you?"

 

"His wife," said Yamcha.

 

"Man, some guys have ALL the luck. Well don't' worry, we're keeping an eye out," he said.

Just then Chichi strode up wearing her long blue fighting outfit. "Guys, where's Goku? I do hope he's drinking enough because I can't stand to see him getting dehydrated!"

 

"Have you seen anything, little sister?" Raditz asked. At this the men raised their brows and Chichi giggled.

 

"Actually I saw a girl who wanted me to give one of you boys a message. She said not to worry. I assumed that she meant you, Radz-kun," she said.

 

"Who, where?"

 

"Over there," Chichi pointed to a tall figure stepping up to fight. She wore a long white cloak, and a turban bound on her brow. Long harem style pants floated around her legs, muscular and a pair of powerful arms was bound in blue sleeveless halter. The collar had the same effect as Piccolo's, but sunglasses shaded her eyes, and her mouth covered by a veil.

 

"Wait, there she is now," said Chichi.

 

"The mystery woman," Krillen blinked.

 

"Without all those clothes she could be pretty. She's got one hell of a bod, for a fighter," said Yamcha.

 

"Wait a minute," Raditz blinked. He saw a gold armband on her upper left thigh, and one on her arm.

 

"She looks familiar? She came in with that green skinned goon that's been freaking us out," said Krillen.

 

"I stood by her in line," Chichi said.

 

"I have to see her," Raditz said gruffly. "Excuse me."

 

"Now wait, if you go over there, and he sees you, he might do something to hurt Bulma! Remember he has her prisoner!" Yamcha grabbed his hand.

 

"Damn it!" Raditz cursed.

 

Son Goku sudden joined them. "What's up?"

 

"It's my mate... my wife. She's with that green man," Raditz hissed in his ear.

 

"OH man. That's her? Good thing she's still alive. But her power comes and goes like a candle flame," Goku blinked.

 

"I must see her, let her know that I'm here for her," Raditz gritted.

 

"Wait, I remember that Majunior guy is in the third block, up to qualify. Maybe you can distract his attention Goku while Son Radz tries to contact his wife," said Krillen.

 

"Would you let me?" Raditz whispered. "I at least need to let her see me."

 

"But if he senses you," Yamcha blinked.

 

"Too bad you're not psychic like Chiaotzu and me," said Tien.

 

"I am," said Raditz quietly. "Like you and your young friend I share a bond. I only hope that she won't betray the fact we're here."

 

"C'mon, let me help you out," Krillen said. "We guys gotta stick together. Coming Yamcha?"

 

"Okay, but I've got my eyes peeled for her," said Yamcha.

 

"No, let me go," said Chichi. "She recognizes me. Come on, Radz-kun, we'll just walk over there."

 

"Thank you," Raditz nodded.

 

"Mmm hmm," Goku nodded. "Don't worry. I'm sure it will work out. I'll distract Ma-junior's attention. You go tell her that she's gonna be okay. But tell her that we can't get ourselves away, right?"

 

"Right," said Raditz. He strode off along with Chichi and Krillen, as nonchalantly as possible.

 

As Tomic stepped down from the fighting ring, Chichi tapped the judge on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but I seem to forget where my husband is next signed up to fight?"

 

"OH, hello there, Mrs. Son. Congratulations, you married one of the best fighter's we've seen!" he said.

 

"Oh well, you know," said Krillen modestly. "I've known Goku most of my life and he's been trying to outdo me."

 

"Hey, I remember you. Krillen right? You've grown quite a lot since you last competed. It's GREAT to see you and your friends back! It would be dull without you,"

 

"Tomic chan," echoed a voice in her head. Tomic gasped, hardly believing it was possible. Suddenly a hand grasped out and drew her into one of the washrooms. She felt as if she wanted to struggle, but then saw Chichi and Krillen distracting the judges while she was whisked away.

"Relax, I won't hurt you," whispered a voice in her mind.

 

"You... how did you?" she gasped, her thoughts racing. "If he sees me gone..."

"Brother's diverting his attention. I just HAD to see you," his thoughts echoed. "I'm sure we won't be disturbed in this elimination station."

 

In the dim light, he turned her around and gripped her arms. She gasped, feeling his eyes on her. Raditz undid the mask around her face, pushed up her sunglasses and stared hungrily into her eyes. Tears swarmed in Tomic's own gaze, blurring her view. Raising both hands she pressed them to her mouth, her whole body trembling.

 

"Don't you recognize me? I'm wearing the insipid garb my brother gave me. Are you hurt?" he asked, twining his arms around her waist to draw her close.

 

"I missed you so much," she stuttered, burying her face in his hair. Although it was bound back, she still lost her fingers in it. Quaking she fell into his awaiting arms. His tail unlatched from around his waist, hidden under the blue tie but slowly binding her to him. The same thing happened with hers as it snaked around his clad thigh.

 

"Ohhh, you're alive. I've hungered for this moment," Raditz whispered fiercely.

 

"Just hold me tight and don't let go," she pleaded. Raditz caressed her cheeks and kissed her hard, large lips feasting on hers. Groaning she slid her hands down his clothed back, feeling his hands squeeze down to cup and pinch her backside.

 

"It's been far too long. There is so much that has happened," Raditz thoughts echoed in her mind.

 

"You must let me go. He'll know if I'm gone," she pleaded.

 

"Just let me touch you, smell you, before I don't have another chance," Raditz thoughts implored. She felt his hands undoing the tie on her pants and panicked.

 

"He'll know, please!"

 

"I don't want that bastard taking what's mine," he snarled, leaning down to nip her neck.

 

Outside, Son Goku kept watch on Piccolo. The fighter was gearing up for his match. Chichi and Krillen were effectively standing near a large lien for the WC. His nose twitched at a scent that made him hope that the Namekian didn't have as sensitive a nose. Yamcha nervously looked to Tien, who was gearing up for his next match for the semifinals.

 

At the same moment, Piccolo's fist flashed out, felling his opponent. He grunted, glancing around in confusion to see his partner emerging from the WC. Grunting, he motioned her over, and she quickly walked to his side. They both exited the main complex to the arena area, watched by the other Z warriors.

 

Raditz ducked out a minute later; rushing out and behind the crowd that was lined up for the facilities. Shouts and complaints veiled him while he made his way back to where the others were gathered. Yamcha saw the telltale grin on the Saiyan's face, and sensed what had happened. However he knew better then to ask.

 

Ten finalists had been chosen from the 72 others. Mercenary Tao, Captain Scarlet, Yamcha, Tien, Son Goku, Son Radz, Ma Junior, Maj-atomic, Krillen and a bumbling idiot named Hero. Strangely Chiautzu had been badly injured by someone. She strongly suspected Piccolo was that one, but shuddered to ask him directly.

 

"First match will be Tien versus Tao Pai Pai. Second match is Son Goku versus Maj-atomic! Third match is Krillen versus Ma-Junior, Fourth match is Captain Scarlet versus Hero, and fifth match is Yamcha versus Son Radz! Let's hear it for the magnificent 8!"

 

A rousing applause was heard resounding around the audience. She felt her stomach churning at the sight of the others walking out around her. They all moved towards the stage, watching for the eyes of their opponents taunting one another. She struggled to catch a glimpse of the one called Son Radz, instinctively knowing who it truly was. It pained her to have to hide her true identity from him.

***

While the 23rd Budokai transpired, Bulma had not been idle. She had watched the proceedings from the tiny TV in the lab Piccolo so generously provided. Sweat blistered on her forehead, which she wiped away with one hand.

 

"Whew, I hope I can get this done. They aren't busting their asses to save mine," Bulma lamented.

 

Next Goku strode up to the platform, and faced off against the mysterious female warrior known as Majatomic. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was the female Saiyan Tomic in disguise. Although the turban and collar mimicked Piccolo's garb, the female still could not hide her alien-fighting stance. She and Goku whirled in and out of the camera's movements astonishing the crowd all around them.

 

Then she had watched Krillen face Piccolo. They had exchanged a vicious series of attacks. Krillen had barely survived with his life. If not for the announcer calling time, Krillen might have been seriously hurt or dead. As it was, Piccolo had broken a few of the little guy's ribs as well as temporarily knocking the breath from him.

 

When she had seen Yamcha eliminated by the strange new Z fighter she was worried. Yet the tall warrior with spiky hair had not harmed him seriously. Yamcha watched in disbelief as the tall figure held a hand out to help him up. Both men high fived and slapped one another on their backs. Another match had come and gone to leave one more. She then resumed her fiddling while the one known as Hero fought someone called Captain Scarlet. To her shock the guy had almost bested Piccolo's henchman. If not for a last minute punch it would have been a draw. Humiliated, Scarlet left the ring because he tripped over the mild mannered guy tying a shoelace.

 

"Well folks now we're down to the wire! Four fighters have been eliminated leaving us with four contenders for the top spot. Who will it be? Hero, Son Goku, Majunior, or Son Radz? Stay tuned for the semifinals!" crooned the announcer. Bulma popped her head up from the space pod.

 

"Just two more wires and I'm outta here," she said. Drops of sweat dripped into the Saiyan pod. A knock slammed on the door.

 

"Hold your horses! Jeez!" Bulma snapped. Suddenly a hiss of steam filled the room. The door swung open to reveal one of Piccolo's henchmen.

 

"What on earth…" he coughed.

 

Bulma grabbed a wrench. She swung it hard on the back of his skull with a sickening crack. He toppled to the floor seeing birds and stars in whirling orbits. Flipping the wrench in her hand, Bulma laughed triumphantly. "Hahha! Don't mess with Bulma Briefs, you jerk!"

 

She jumped up and down with glee before grabbing up the pack of Hoi Poi capsules the guard had confiscated. With a BOMB she capsulated the Saiyan pod and the Regeneration tank she had been working on for the last day. Quickly Bulma rushed off down the hall protected from noxious fumes by the gas mask shielding her face. Alarms blared their stunning klaxons all around her. AS she raced through the halls of panicking foot soldiers she threw down other small spheres that released choking rotten egg fumes.

 

"Have some H2S on me, boys!" she giggled through her mask. Smoke pooled around her racing body out in the empty courtyard. Reaching down she tossed a 7 capsule on the ground. Another BOMB of smoke later produced a hydro jet. She leapt into the cockpit, punching control buttons to fire up the engines.

 

Thankfully the guard was stupid enough to keep her capsules on his body. They wouldn't get the secret devices she had been forced to repair under Piccolo's stern urgings. Unfortunately the inventor neglected to consider the radar beams tracking her small hydro jet's launch. Angrily one of Piccolo's henchmen saw it rising out of the smoke and fuss of Piccolo's fortress.

 

"Prisoner's escaped!" he shouted. "Get Captain Scarlet!"

 

"At once sir!" shouted a soldier. He saluted, rushing off towards the communications scrambler.

***