Homecoming (Celerous)

Celerous had been minding his own business, going on an evening joyride through the skies, when he had suddenly felt a very familiar power level. He'd stopped cold in his tracks, halting in the air as the wind billowed past him. That couldn't be Fukushu, right? He'd met the Heran back on Konats, first in an illegal fight club that Ma would have disapproved of him going to, and then again in the city proper. Celerous hadn't been a fan. Fukushu wasn't... a bad person, per se. He did clearly believe in his own sense of justice.

But he didn't have a whole lot of abhorrence for killing, and that rubbed the hybrid the wrong way.

If Fukushu was here, he probably wasn't doing anything wrong. Even so, Celerous felt like he had the responsibility to find out. It was probably overkill, he thought as he took flight in the Heran's direction, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Fukushu didn't seem like the kind of guy to hurt innocent people, but he was more than willing to beat down anyone who seemed to be doing anything wrong. Or, at least, that had been the vibe Cel got from the green man.

Celerous didn't bother to keep his power level suppressed, never did really. He'd signed the accords, so it wasn't like he could get into any legal trouble. Besides, it was only fair that Fukushu knew he was coming. Otherwise, Cel would feel like he was stalking the man, instead of only stopping by for a visit. And while techinically they were the same thing in this particular instance, Cel wanted to pretend like what he was doing wasn't an invasion of privacy.

He spotted the man at a campfire, by some roasting meat. He looked to be conversing with the men there, and that put Celerous at ease. He landed a short ways away from the campfire, as to not startle the Earthlings. He straightened out his red flannel, before he approached from the direction that Fukushu was facing.

"Fukushu," Celerous nodded, trying to be amenable, "I didn't reckon I'd see you around these parts."

Fukushu had lived here? On Earth? That must have been before the moon was shattered, right? Celerous had never seen or heard of the man before, much less felt his power. Had he really been that sheltered only a few short months ago? Celerous already knew the answer to that question: yes, he had been. He'd never ventured beyond East City until his twentieth birthday had passed. He'd certainly never been out here, to Korin Forest, until the day he'd met Jackie.

As always, Celerous was reminded that his world view needed some serious widening.

"Again... I'm an Earthling, Fukushu," Celerous sighed, but wasn't surprised, "I was born here on Earth, to an Earthling woman, who raised me on a very Earthling farm. I've never even been to Plant before."

Though, he was raised around a Saiyan grandfather. Cel opted to leave that part out. Fukushu would probably only see that as proof of his Saiyan heritage. It really wasn't his business to know any of that anyhow. Plus, Celerous suspected that Gramps wasn't exactly on the planet legally. The last thing he needed was for that information to get out, especially around Fukushu, with his weird sense of justice.

"I was pulling turnips out of the ground the day the moon exploded. So, no, I can't take credit for that."

Celerous was only mildly insulted that Fukushu would point a finger at him. He supposed he didn't have the right to be, though, considering he was suspicious of Fukushu himself. Maybe they'd gotten off on the wrong foot? For all their philosophical differences, Celerous didn't think the Heran was a bad man. Maybe just a little more... intense than he would have liked.

Maybe one of them just had to extend a hand to the other.

"You said you used to live here," Celerous started, frowning, "why "used to?" Did you move? Or... did it have something to do with the day the moon was sundered?"

Maybe he really had pegged Fukushu wrong. The man wasn't some bloodthirsty savage, as Celerous had thought upon first meeting him. If anything, Fukushu was just a man devoted to self-improvement. Really, shouldn't everyone dedicate themselves to that: to the idea of being better than you were yesterday? Their ideals aside, Celerous couldn't find it in himself to dislike the man, not anymore. The Heran wasn't deserving of that kind of disdain, and even if he had been, Celerous would only be hurting himself if he were to mire in that negative emotion.

Finally, the young hybrid allowed himself to relax.

Fukushu asked after him, and Celerous supposed it was only fair to share his own story. So he sat down on a log opposite of the alien man, and let out a quiet sigh. Where did he begin? Even he wasn't really sure. Hell, maybe even now, after leaving the farm, he still wasn't at a beginning. Everyone had a story to tell, but Celerous didn't know what his was. Not really. Not like Fukushu did.

"Earth is my home," Celerous started, as simply as he could, "I've got family here: Ma and Gramps. And I have a farm to run. As nice as Konats was, and as much as I'd like to keep traveling, I have responsibilities here."

The farm wasn't a lead weight chained to his ankle, not really. But it did hinder him, and sometimes Celerous thought it prevented him from reaching his aspirations... whatever those were. Yet, at the same time, he was content here on Earth. He was content with his life as a farmer. Sure, it was simple, but it was also honest and quiet. Cel didn't yearn for battle like Saiyans did. A little adventure maybe? Sure. But if he couldn't have that, he could still be happy tending to his crops.

"It's quaint, maybe a little boring, but I can't exactly complain about my life. I'm good at what I do. I've always got a roof over my head, and food on the table."

"Who said you get to expect anything from me?"

Celerous' words had no bite to them, even as he raised an eyebrow at the Heran across the fire from him. The man stood up, and approached him. Celerous let his power flare, ever so slightly, but didn't move from his position. Fukushu probably wasn't coming over here to clock him in the jaw, but he was still going to be ready. He might not have been a warrior at heart, but he did have some training under his belt.

Despite already being exasperated with the man, Celerous listened to what the Heran had to say. He understood where Fukushu was coming from, in truth. Very few people were blessed with the power he was; Celerous had never taken that strength for granted. And when other people with that kind of power abused it, and he did nothing, then their abuse happened because of him. He wanted to dispute that fact, wanted to shake his head at Fukushu, but couldn't.

Because deep down, no, not just deep down: with the entirety of his being, Celerous agreed with Fukushu. 

People like Maxsuz did exist. People like Marimba did exist. But people like Crotona might not. People like Crotona could fall. And when that happened, and the President's Accords failed, somebody had to step up. Someone had to fight for those that couldn't. And maybe there were plenty of people to do that; maybe there were far better candidates than him to stand for the Earth.

But maybe there wasn't.

"I don't disagree with you," Celerous stood, and looked the Heran in the eyes, "but training doesn't put food on the table. Doesn't keep the heat on in the winter. I can't just throw my life away to go punch trees in the woods. I don't get to wander the galaxy like you do, lecturing about responsibility while having none. I have a family to provide for."

What was Fukushu expecting? That's he'd up and abandon Ma and Gramps? For a man who liked to talk about responsibility, he sure was glib about telling Celerous to abandon the responsibilities he already had.

There it was. The real reason why Fukushu was being such a hardass about this: he was projecting his own insecurities.

Celerous tilted his chin up, defiantly, "if you're so responsible for your home planet, then why are you here and not there. I find it ironic that you'd lecture me on protecting the Earth, but at least I'm actually on the planet, avaliable to do so. But you? You're a long way from Hera."

Celerous didn't actually know how far Hera was from Earth, as he'd never been. But he thought he'd made his point. Fukushu wasn't a bad man, not at all. But he was a sanctimonious ass. He wasn't nearly as righteous as he tried to make himself out to be. His mere presence on Earth made that abundantly clear to Celerous. The hybrid couldn't claim to know why exactly the Heran was offworld, but it seemed to Cel that he was running.

"You can sit here and lecture me all you'd like. It won't fix the problems you ran away from back on your world."

And now, finally, Celerous allowed himself to glare at Fukushu. Daring him to strike. Because that's what Fukushu really wanted, that's why he'd taken out so much of his aggression on the underground fight club back on Konats: the Heran was a bully made from bullies. He couldn't lay the smack down on an entire planet filled with his violent people, but he could beat up those weaker than him.

Celerous didn't want a fight, not really. He didn't enjoy fighting all that much. But he wasn't going to sit here and be lectured by a man who didn't live by his own ideals. Nor was he going to walk away with his tail between his legs, as if he was actually on the losing end of this debate.

So Celerous figured that this was going to escalate. So be it. Fukushu had flared his power to him, and in truth, Celerous didn't find it all that impressive.

Celerous sighed, partially in relief and partially out of exhaustion, as Fukushu walked away to sit back down. He didn't understand how the two of them could be so similar in ideology, yet so different at the same time. The young hybrid understood the idea of responsibility, and how power granted it in ways most people would never know. He understood that he had a duty. But that duty was his choice. It wasn't something for someone else to force upon him.

Did Celerous believe that, if he didn't step in to stop a crisis, that he was responsible for it occuring? Yes. But he had the right to come to that conclusion on his own. Nobody could make it for him.

"For what it's worth," Celerous sighed again, as he sat down on his log, "I'm sorry about your friend. And your people. And your home. I shouldn't have judged without hearing your story first."

Words spoken in anger and frustration were often regrettable. That held true in this case. How would he have felt, if he'd been in Fukushu's place. Would he also have thought that others had a responsibility? Would he be bitter about those who didn't accept that? Probably, on both accounts. That didn't mean that Celerous was going to meet Fukushu's expectations, but he could at least sympathize with the Heran's frustrations.

"But my point still stands: I don't think lecturing me is gonna help you any. I'm not an ordinary Earthling, you're right about that, but I ain't the guy who can help you save Hera. I don't have that kind of strength."

Konats had taught him that. He was definitely more than your average farmer, but a farmer was still a farmer. He didn't have decades of battle experience. Didn't want it, really. There had to be others who could help the Heran. People better qualified for the job than he was.

"Someone who signed the Accords could help you. I know there are bigger names on that list than mine. They'd be capable of what you need."

Celerous took no offence from Fukushu's words. Because, in truth, he wasn't a warrior. He'd never been. He had no aspirations of power, usually no desire to fight someone, no bloodthirst coursing through his veins. The things that actually made a Saiyan a, well, Saiyan were absent in him. They always had, much to his grandfather's chagrin. Celerous was, at his core, an Earthling. The son of a farmer, who in turn had become a farmer.

He had some training, from his parents. But training didn't make someone a warrior. Their spirit did. And that was what Celerous lacked.

"You want to spar?" Celerous raised a brow, "sure, but can we take it away from the village? I think we've ruined their night as is."

Plus, any fight between him and Fukushu was bound to get hairy. They were, both of them, strong enough to crack worlds if they'd been inclined to. Celerous didn't want to accidentally wipe out an entire village, just because of a stray energy blast. He was pretty sure that Fukushu would share that sentiment: the man might have been more extreme than him, but he clearly cared about others in his own way. He had enough guilt to tote around, he most likely didn't want to add to that burden.

Celerous wondered, though, what a fight between them would look like. Fukushu had shown his power a few moments ago, but it was far from what Celerous could reach at his peak. Though... he didn't really like to use that extra power. It made him feel different, think different. It was like his ability to reason was dampened, replaced only by the want to punch someone.

Though, if Cel could increase his power, there was reason to believe that the Heran could as well. He might actually need that bulky, testosterone filled form.