Retribution
Meet Taisho
The weather for the time of year was unusually poor. Past tournaments
had been complimented with a picture perfect scene of a blazing orange
Sun on a deep blue canvas overseeing an excitable crowd wearing
T-shirts and shorts. This year however was very different; the whole
season had been different in fact. The weather had been drab and dull,
dreary grey skies with heavy clouds hovering ominously overhead, ready
to burst. It was very uncharacteristic for mid-July, but due to the
recent weather, the spectators had perceived that such a thing was
likely. They were dressed up warmly, the majority wearing thick
jackets and gloves. Whilst the scene was different in many aspects to
past tournaments, the crowd remained the same, as excitable as ever,
cheering collectively; in fact, a casual listener may have mistaken it
for a ferocious thunder storm, the booming roar echoing for miles
around.
The sheer scale of the scene was momentous. The enormous stands with
their rising levels of seating overlooked the comparatively small
stone-paved ring. Every year the ring had to be completely rebuilt due
to the damage it suffered from the powerful competitors, but right now
it looked magnificent. Its brilliance was in the simplicity of its
design; the size, the dimensions, everything about it was perfect.
Amidst the spectacular scene were set the next two fighters. Both
stood just inside the arena, awaiting their introduction. On the left
was a small bald man wearing a red GI, his hands on his hips,
surveying the crowd, seemingly scanning for something, his eyes
eventually coming to rest on his companions – a dark-haired woman
named Chi-Chi holding her baby Gohan in her arms, her fiery friend
Bulma, and a perverted white-bearded old man named Master Roshi. The
latter had originally trained many of the Earth’s finest combatants;
however he now spent his time staring at dirty magazines having been
surpassed by all of his pupils.
The bald combatant was dwarfed by his opponent; a tall, muscular
fighter with jet black hair spiked high. He wore a black training vest
and baggy black trousers which flapped about violently in the strong
wind.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the next two brave fighters in
the tournament: Krillen, and Taisho!”
“Look, it’s Krillen!” screamed Chi-Chi pointing at the small bald man.
He gave a friendly nod in the general direction of his friends, before
turning to focus on the match at hand.
As he reached the end of the aisle, Krillen turned to his competitor
and patted him lightly on the back. “Best of luck bro!”
“Just get in the ring. Let’s finish this quickly,” Taisho replied
arrogantly.
Krillen got into his fighting stance, poised like a lion waiting to
pounce. Taisho simply stood opposite him with his hands in his
pockets, a half-smile spread across the left side of his face.
“Well?” Taisho asked. “Are we going to start this or what? Do you want
me to bend over so you can reach me?”
That was the opportunity Krillen was waiting for. He had already
noticed the overwhelmingly obvious weakness of his opponent: egotism.
Within seconds he sped towards Taisho head-first at an impressive
speed. What was even more impressive though, was the speed with which
Taisho dodged the attack, simply side-stepping out of the way.
“Not bad, not bad. You move pretty quickly for a small guy” the
arrogant fighter said condescendingly.
Krillen had been in this situation before. It wasn’t unusual for
fighters to taunt their opponents in an effort to push them out of a
state of calmness and into a state of blind anger. The jests were an
attempt to disconcert him, but he wasn’t massively proud, a strength
that had remained with him throughout his life.
“Well?” Taisho enquired. “Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got? Damn, I
thought the people in the tournament would be…” his words were
intercepted by Krillen’s fist, taking him completely by surprise.
Blood sprayed out of his mouth as his lip burst open and he stood in
amazement for a few micro-seconds. Before his opponent could even
follow-up on the cheap-shot though, Taisho gave an almighty blow to
Krillen’s stomach, really putting his full force behind it.
“What’s wrong? Did that hurt? How about this?” Taisho grabbed
Krillen’s head aggressively and viciously kneed him in the face,
breaking his nose instantly. He then picked him up by the collar of
his GI, and tossed him effortlessly out of the ring, causing him to
land in a crumpled battered heap.
“Unbelievable!” the announced screamed. “We need some medical
attention down here right now! Krillen looks badly hurt!” There was a
brief pause before several people fled out of the backstage area
equipped with a stretcher. Krillen was lifted onto it and carefully
taken away for medical treatment. As he was taken away, he weakly
lifted his arm and gave a frail wave to the crowd so say goodbye for
now. They responded energetically to it, and clapped respectively as
he was carried out.
“Taisho goes through to the next round! What incredible strength!
Young Hanashi really does have his work cut out for him! We’re just
going to take a refreshments break before the second half of round 1
commences folks. We’ll keep you informed as to any changes in
Krillen’s condition. The tournament will resume in 30 minutes from
now.”
***
Backstage, Krillen was lying on a table, groaning painfully. His face
was a bloody mess; his nose distorted at least 45 degrees away from
its natural position. His breathing was strained and uneven and his
pupils were at least half the size that one would expect them to be.
Sweat dripped down the doctor’s brow as he worriedly looked at his
injured patient, concerned about the obvious breathing difficulty. A
nurse was dabbing Krillen’s nose with a cloth in a futile effort to
cease the bleeding.
“Krillen!” Yamcha yelled as he burst through the double doors into the
infirmary in a state of panic. He could sense his friend’s waning
life-force, and was one of the few people present in the arena who
fully understood the power of the punch his friend had received to his
abdomen.
“Sorry, no visitors allowed” a nurse said calmly, trying to direct the
intruder out. Yamcha easily dodged past her and effortlessly
approached Krillen, despite the trail of medical staff unsuccessfully
trying to forcefully hold him back. He put a hand into his pocket and
pulled out a small green bean.
“Eat this,” Yamcha said softly, pushing it gently into the injured
fighter’s mouth. Krillen chewed it at length, before eventually
swallowing it. Within seconds the apparently wounded competitor jumped
energetically to his feet, the bleeding immediately stopping and his
breathing returning to its normal rhythm.
“Awesome!” Krillen shouted. “Thanks bro, I thought I was a dead man!”
“No problem,” Yamcha responded. His voice then descended into a
deeper, more serious tone. “What happened out there? That guy was
really strong.”
“He caught me in the stomach; I couldn’t breathe. I felt like that was
the end right there.”
“Yeah, I saw…that guy didn’t hold back. It was sick.”
“Glad you got here in time bro,” Krillen smiled at the concerned
Yamcha as they walked away towards the stands to take their seats next
to their friends as the stunned medical staff looked on. “That guy is
scary though…” as Krillen walked round the corner he bumped into a
tall, dark figure, and was knocked back slightly.
It was none other than Taisho, a stream of blood still meandering down
his jaw, emanating from his bottom lip. He looked down in surprise at
Krillen who had apparently made an amazing recovery since he’d last
seen him.
“Listen Krillen,” Taisho began, his voice sending shivers down
Krillen’s back. “Sorry if I went over the top with you there. All’s
fair in war eh? Thought you could take it. How’d you recover so fast?”
“None of your business” Yamcha said, standing protectively in front of
Krillen.
“Heh, ok, have it your way,” Taisho smirked superiorly at the two of
them, and brushed past, heading towards the designated viewing area
for competitors.
***
“And that concludes the break! We’ve just been sent word that Krillen
has made a miraculous recovery, and is now completely better!” the
announcer informed the crowd as he pointed to where Krillen sat with
his friends. The audience responded with a combination of claps and
astonished cheers.
“I hope everyone is sitting comfortably, because it’s now time for the
next match!” the announcer began, ready to introduce the next
competitors.
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