Age 750, 21st Tenkaichi Budokai Tournament
Mori sat on a bench in the waiting area, his legs swinging off the edge as he watched the arena. At 11 years old, he had a youthful face and a lean build, with brown hair spiked back in a style that looked wild and untamed. His bright, eager eyes darted between the fighters, his excitement growing with each match. He wore a black training gi, tied with a black sash, and his bare feet tapped the ground impatiently. He couldn't wait for his own fight to begin.
This was Mori's first Tenkaichi Budokai, and it had only made his passion for martial arts grow stronger. He'd entered the tournament not for glory or any higher purpose, but for the fun of it. For him, fighting was the most thrilling thing in the world. His opponent in the first round was a fighter named Namu, a serious-looking man who seemed far older and more experienced. But that didn't intimidate Mori; in fact, it excited him even more. The stronger the opponent, the better the fight would be.
While waiting, Mori focused on the current match, which featured a small, bald boy named Krillin squaring off against a massive, brutish man named Bacterian. The size difference between the two was incredible, and Bacterian had an even bigger advantage—his disgusting stench. Every time Krillin tried to get close, the foul odor seemed to drive him back.
Mori chuckled at the spectacle. "Poor kid can't even get near him," he said to himself. But then, he noticed something strange: Krillin didn't have a nose. How could he smell anything if he had no nose? It seemed like he shouldn't be affected by the stench at all.
Then, a spiky-haired boy in an orange gi standing on the sidelines yelled out to Krillin, "You don't have a nose, Krillin! You can't smell him!"
Mori's eyes widened in surprise, and he burst out laughing. "He didn't even realize it!" With this revelation, Krillin's eyes lit up. He sprang into action, leaping into the air and delivering a powerful kick to Bacterian's face. The giant stumbled backward, crashing out of the ring, and the crowd erupted into cheers as Krillin was declared the winner.
"Nice one, baldy," Mori muttered with a grin. Krillin had shown some serious spirit in that fight, and it made Mori even more eager for his own turn. He stood up, deciding to walk around for a bit. His fight wasn't scheduled for another 30 minutes, so he figured he might as well stretch his legs and see the other fighters up close.
As he wandered down a narrow path away from the main arena, his eyes darted from one competitor to another. He made mental notes about their stances, the way they held themselves, and anything that could hint at their fighting style. Mori enjoyed observing his competition; it was almost like solving a puzzle. The more he learned about the other fighters, the more thrilling the tournament would be.
Then, as he turned a corner, his gaze fell upon a spiky-haired boy about his age, who wore an orange gi similar to Krillin's. Their eyes met, and instantly, Mori felt something—an aura, a kind of energy emanating from the boy that was unlike anything he had sensed before. The two boys stared at each other, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them. The air felt electric, and Mori could feel his heart pounding in his chest.
The spiky-haired boy didn't break eye contact, his expression full of curiosity and intensity. It was as if he was silently challenging Mori to a fight right then and there, and Mori found himself grinning, his own fighting spirit flaring up in response.
Just as it seemed they were about to start a battle of their own, an older man with blue slicked-back hair and a white beard strolled up between them. He wore a plain martial arts uniform and exuded an air of calm confidence. The man, known as Jackie Chun—though his real identity was that of the legendary Master Roshi—noticed the tension building between the two boys. He saw that they were on the verge of starting a match right in the middle of the pathway.
With a crafty grin, Jackie Chun casually "accidentally" bumped into Mori, knocking him slightly off balance. "Whoops! My bad there, young fella!" the old man said with a chuckle, his interruption breaking the intense moment.
Mori blinked and glanced away from the spiky-haired boy, his fighting spirit settling back down. "Uh, no problem, old man," he replied, his attention momentarily diverted.
The spiky-haired boy scratched his head, giving a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that," he said, "You just looked really strong. I got excited."
Mori's grin widened. "You too. I thought we were about to have a match right here." He turned and began walking away, but there was a spark in his eye. The encounter had only served to ignite his passion for the tournament even more. He didn't know who that boy was, but he was certain they would cross paths again, and when they did, it would be an epic fight.
---
Mori returned to the waiting area, his body thrumming with anticipation. His mind kept drifting back to that encounter with the spiky-haired boy. Who was he? The way he carried himself, the look in his eyes—it was different from the other competitors. It wasn't about winning or proving himself; it was about the sheer joy of the fight, just like Mori.
He clenched his fists, a determined grin on his face. The Tenkaichi Budokai was turning out to be even more exciting than he had hoped. He was ready to unleash everything he had, to push his limits, and to see just how far his skills could take him.
The announcer's voice boomed over the stadium speakers, "Ladies and gentlemen, we'll now begin the next match of the 21st Tenkaichi Budokai! Competitors, please make your way to the stage!"
Mori sprang to his feet, rolling his shoulders as he loosened up. It was finally time for his first match. As he approached the ring, he saw his opponent, Namu, already standing there with his hands clasped in a prayer-like gesture. Namu wore a white martial arts uniform and had a serious, almost solemn look on his face.
Mori bounced on his toes, grinning with excitement. "So, you're my first opponent, huh?" he called out to Namu. "I hope you're ready, because I'm not planning to hold back!"
Namu's eyes opened, and there was a calm but intense look in them. "I fight not for glory, but to save my village from a drought," he said. "I must win this tournament. I cannot afford to lose."
Mori's grin didn't falter. "Well, you'd better give it everything you've got then!" He raised his fists, settling into his fighting stance. "Because I'm going to have fun no matter what, and that means I'm coming at you with everything!"
The announcer's voice echoed again, "Let the match between Mori and Namu… BEGIN!"