The Brawl of the Night! [Matoto]

It would have been the second time he fought a fellow Saiyan lately. How odd he did not get to do this a lot more often, given he was supposed to be their opponent in the war. Maybe the war had gone stale and cold, who knew. Well, it was cold to begin with — therefore not a big deal at the moment, not to mention that Nasu was on his own quest too.

By now Nasu seemed to have caught the stranger’s attention. There was no doubt about it, the man knew all the best how to tell apart the ones of his own race: even because they all were quite similar but all in their own way. This one alone was somewhat interesting: he did not often find Saiyans on this world, not on the premise that they were just visiting. Therefore he also supposed he had to have been one of those visitors, but now as his very eyes and ears had confirmed: this one had a lust for battle quite strange.

Yet he could not quite get the read on him. It was odd, he was sure that if this one was anything like all the other Saiyans he had met on Plant so far… he would have been able to tell, but he did not get that kind of vibe, not yet at least. Therefore, Nasu was indeed intrigued. And his tail wagged quietly, while his eyes did not leave the sights of this person. But neither did he reply to his request.

Instead, his lips slowly began to become a little wider. A small smile, a thin one that would be difficult to tell from anyone who would pass-by, from his very penetrating and sharp gaze that made it quite difficult to tell whether he was smiling or frowning at the stranger. But if Matoto looked hard enough, he could definitely see a little smile there.

Before the two could probably notice, a crowd had begun to form around them. Those who were just passing by had decided to stop at the show between the two but let them have way enough space for either to fight freely, they were talking or bickering among themselves about the incoming fight or whether there was a battle going on at all. By now, the streets were becoming noisy with their talking but around the circle, none of their words could truly be heard.

But the man had also been fighting others, therefore his power was not regulated accordingly. Still his own senses worked quite well to tell that this Saiyan was stronger than only the average Earthling, there was no way Nasu was going to deny him a little bit of a fight, and so the man began to release a few locks upon his Chi and allowed it to flow in a controlled manner so that his power would raise just a bunch. Enough to double his previous strength.

Not in such a captivating moment. The man shifted briefly with his footing, yet a rough stance, yet it was beginning to take form: his very closed fist rose up near his chin, while the other stayed low at waist height.

“Come at me!!”

This man was a Saiyan all right. He could recognize the look on his face when the two were openly admitting themselves to the commitment of a fight, it was something he could not mistake that easily. As a Saiyan himself it was nearly enough to be considered a blood oath: something that was nearly as burning as fire, and now Nasu too believed that perhaps that was just how he had to take fighting. There was no need to hurt or harm others and there was nothing wrong with just enjoying a good fight, surely. That had to be a message behind it, there was no need to give a meaning to every fight. Right?

No matter now, though. The two had to get going already, and Matoto was obviously the first between the two to begin the contest. It was a quick moment’s notice, one so quick that even Nasu did not see it coming at first. It was a heavy swing at first, it rocketed through his body, Nasu’s body led back to try and hold himself together and be moved off the ground, but the fellow Saiyan also continued to rush him.

The Saiyan shut his eyes and began to quietly take the punishment and yet he was not just trying to get hurt, he was beginning to realize something: even behind every fist there was damage or more, but the feeling itself behind the damage had to be nothing more than a feeling.

It did not have to become a reason itself to be hurt, he did not have to base himself off and his current person off a single fist. In essence, the man was training his state of mind: he was taking damage at the cost of becoming less sensible, but you did not win fights by being passive. His body was tense and still, his arms just slightly spread. The impact of the fists flew through the living corpse of Nasu and as the flurry was coming to an end, in his mind came all the stress and tension from Matoto’s damage that forced him to finally act as the man boasted a roar, he did not intend to dodge the jab but instead as Matoto fired his knock, Nasu literally tossed himself at him.

His body was lowered, and his right shoulder leaning up front to launch an aggressive front to break through him and strike down, instead of letting go, with the same stance and pace, he dragged his body up diagonally. It could almost be seen as something awkward, but it was very similar to how an Oozaru could possibly fight and let his right arm be dragged to strike right by the side of the elbow area into the man’s skull.

“(This is rad.)”

A lightbulb in his mind had lit, he had found perhaps what he sought: a fighting style he could wear. Now he only had to practice it out on this man!