Martial Start (Chomei)

Sweat rolled down Chomei’s brow as he hammered another set of nails into place. The quiet wind blew through the tarp-covered construction, revealing various patches of the monstrous mess within. Ugly piles of wood lay strewn about the ground, with unorganized masses of paint, tools, and tiles, laying right alongside them. Parts of the floor were uncovered, revealing the earthy foundations of the Dojo… though, it had no right to be called a Dojo just yet. The walls were a skeleton framework of wood, one good blow from tumbling over.

Building a Dojo from the ground up was hard, it seemed. And still, Chomei was proud of what little he’d accomplished. He wasn't sure when he’d gotten the idea to open a school, but the fact that he was actually doing it represented something far greater to him. That he was finally moving forward. He might never have any disciples, but he was content with that. He’d left behind his past struggles, and was working to build a new future. He began hammering again when he heard a faint voice from behind him. A familiar one.

Putting down his tools, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, lept down from where he’d been working, and then went to greet the newcomer. Pushing aside a large tarp wall, he smiled. Saiba-Ban, in all his green glory, had paid him a visit. “Well well, if it isn't my little friend!” He laughed, firmly grasping the alien's arm and shaking it roughly. “I’ve been meaning to call you soon, but it seems you saved me the trouble,” Chomei spoke brashly. Gesturing at his unfinished Dojo, Chomei ushered the Saibaman in. “Come, Come sit! We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Chomei blinked at the Saibman’s blatant generosity. He’d never even considered asking anyone to help him build the Dragon School; Why was that? Certainly, having the Saibaman's fortune at his disposal would’ve sped the process along… But… He didn't like the idea for some reason. Having help, that is. He didn't know why, he just knew that HE had to build this. Himself. Alone. “Something like that, Ban,” He replied, turning to his makeshift construction. “It’s like a calling. I wouldn't call it a trial, but… it is, I guess. It’s hard to explain,” He laughed, motioning the Green Alien over as he held the tarp ajar. “It's a feeling, I know that much!”

Chomei looked over at the alien as he walked in, reminiscing on that hazy night when they first met. He still found it strange how blatantly he wore his power… and how different he was from his kin on Plant. He grimaced slightly, and let the tarp close behind him. He walked over, sitting opposite the green alien as he began to speak. “Yeah, yeah I'm doing a lot better now. More than you can imagine,” He said the last in a near whisper. He sat quietly, hands clasped, and locked eyes with Saiba-Ban. An almost crimson glow enveloped Chomei, culminating with an explosion of wind that whipped the tarp about and shook the wooden framework around them.

He exhaled, and his strength disappeared as quickly as it appeared. “I've been to Plant, Ban,” He started, eyes still locked onto his. “I've changed far beyond the disheveled man I was a few months ago. Something triggered this within me, an incident with a worthless piece of garbage… but ever since, I've only grown stronger and stronger. I haven't trained once since last we spoke,” He paused. “I don't really know what’s happening to me… But im strong now. That aside... What I wanted to talk to you about was the Saibamen,”

He stared at his friend. “Do you remember the promise we talked about? I never did wind up making one but… Ban, I think we should help your kin. No, I promise you that we'll help them. The Saiyans definitely won’t, and the Tuffles can’t do much about their own situation anyways. I don't think your people are meant to wander wastelands and blow themselves up... It's sad what's become of the Saibamen”.

Chomei nodded along as Ban spoke, remembering his brief encounter with his kind on Plant. They were mindless—Simply animals looking for their next meal. He thought that made their circumstances more unfortunate… because they could have been capable of greatness. He arced a brow as Ban went on. So all they had to do was relocate the Saibamen… It seemed easy enough. From what Chomei knew, the Saibamen were only active around the wastelands of Plant. With Ban's money and his primal instincts… surely they’d be able to sweep across it and be done in no time! He heard mention of some guy called Nero, a friend of Ban’s he assumed, and was about to speak up when Ban quickly cut him off.

It seemed that the Saibaman thought he was unsuited to the task. Apparently, he had tried this before… and was stopped?!

“Huh?” Chomei stared confusedly. “What? Why? Who stopped you?” He went on, before hurriedly answering his own question. “...The Saiyans I’ll bet…” Chomei grimaced. He went on, somewhat flustered at the revelation. “I guess that makes sense… of course, you would have already tried…”

“But why? You told me once that they use Saibas for experiments, is that still happening? If so, that’s all the more reason to go now!” He explained in a near shout. “I might not be very strong now, but just give me a few weeks. I'll be in tip-top condition to whoop those big brutes,” He growled, feeling his blood pumping ever faster through his body—Dragon force coursing through his veins.

"I mean... I can sorta tell," He mumbled under his breath as the Saibaman began—Explaining his failed attempt to save his people. He was still a little heated, so maybe his tone gave off more animosity than he'd intended. His skin had colored slightly, taking on a pinkish hue by this point. Still, he listened intently—He'd had to run a lot too, especially recently. He could understand a bit why Ban was so hesitant to go back, especially because of what he'd experienced.

But that was no excuse! Chomei had fought through his fears, found a solution... and now? He was supremely confident in his ability to whoop some Saiyan ass. He opened his mouth preemptively, in order to launch a retort. But promptly, he clamped it shut, feeling a shift in the atmosphere. His animalistic instincts told him of an immense danger, coming straight from Ban. He was growing rapidly in strength, far eclipsing him within moments. Even as Dragon Force had started coursing through him. He stared, perplexed at the raw energy coming from Ban, and at what he'd had to say.

And... that's not enough? He wondered, bewildered. Sure, he could imagine that his strength would eventually reach such heights... But surely not anytime soon. Chomei's confidence wavered for just a moment before he caught himself. No, I'm different now! Things are different!

Slowly, Chomei stood and stared down at the small green alien. Steam rolling off of his shoulders, his power also shot up, not nearly to Ban's level... but enough that he could go— "Not quite ten now, I think. Maybe five," He replied with a false confidence. "I've gone higher, but I can't quite do it on command just yet," He acquiesced, giving in a little to his doubts. "But with some time, I'm sure I'll outgrow you. By year's end, I promise," He said, watching Ban for some sort of reaction.

The unassuredness of his bluster began to falter in the face of Ban's blunt, but harsh words. He'd thought for a time that he was truly breaking through, into a new realm of prowess and competence. He remembered all too clearly the immense gap he'd felt between himself and the villains that accosted Earth so often. He believed Ban was a good person, and so thusly, he was telling the truth. More than anyone, Ban wanted to save his people—And so why would lie?

Somehow, despite the lengths he'd come... there were still heights to reach for. Ones far beyond his grasp, even now. It was a harrowing thought, really. Slowly, he powered down. He felt a pang of sadness for Ban, who likely felt even worse about the whole thing. They were his people, after all. "Wise words..." He answered glumly as Ban denounced violence. They were true enough... although Chomei found that it was often nessecary to fight. Especially with the dangerous times they were in. 

Sighing, he let himself relax and abandon further talk of grand rescue missions. His ears perked up as Ban went on, and he found himself intrigued. "Saiba-world? Sounds like a theme park? Or like a weird nature reserve," He inquired, sitting up. He squinted his eyes as he went on, confused. "... How are you gonna get the president to agree? Seems like a big deal, making a big new place for alien refugees only... For that matter, how are you gonna contact him anyway?" He asked. In his mind, that Derry guy seemed awfully busy, announcing new accords and laws every other week. He wasnt very knowing, but he had watched some speeches. Derry didnt seem too keen on alien folks. Maybe Ban was more influential than he'd thought... But wasnt he just like a factory manager dude? He stared at Ban as he waited for an answer.

Chomei chuckled slightly, hearing Bans feigned anger. Truth be told, he was hard-pressed to come up with a name himself. Saiba-Land? No... that sucks! It's the same as Saiba-World. Laughing, he turned his attention back to Ban who was going on about all the ways he could get the president on board. It was surprising how sound his reasoning was—Chomei hadnt actually stopped to think about how a rich guy would go about gathering support. Of course he'd just use money, that was the obvious thing to do!

And apparently, they had a history also. Chomei was not well versed in things he hadn't directly experienced, so he had no clue what this 'dojo attack' had been. "Dojo attack?" He inquired, waiting for the alien to elaborate. Whether or not he did, Chomei would turn his thoughts to the accords briefly. His only experience with them had been a few months back when some policemen accosted him for walking around with such a high 'power level'... Whatever that meant. That and the most recent one, which he'd actually bothered to watch as it was announced. That one bothered him... On the surface, it seemed rational, if overly cruel. Chomei believed that violence was often necessary, but there was a difference between using violence and killing. The majority of people he thought could be rehabilitated, probably.

"Speaking of that, What do YOU think? About the Accords I mean," He wondered, curious. He'd of course wait until the Saibaman was finished, before asking, and he appreciated the aliens loyalty to his homeworld. "I dont blame the guy for making them harsher and harsher. Dunno what I would do in his shoes, given all the attacks that happened last year... but I dont know... That last one doesnt sit right with me,"

Chomei listened to the Dojo tale, relatively intrigued. He didnt know how a ramen shop fit into it, but the Dojo—Or Temple, he supposed—Was apparently being taken care of. That was good news! Martial Arts seemed to have become more of a 'product of the times' type of thing, lately. A tourist attraction or a fun afternoon activity. The mention of politics had gotten him thinking (well, more than usual anyways...) and he figured 'If everybody practiced Martial Arts—Truly, practiced—Maybe we'd be able to repel all of these invasions and attacks more easily'. 

There were arguments to that which he went over quickly in his mind, but he quickly shook his mind away from it. Ban had started talking. Seemed he didnt agree with Chomei, at least, not exactly. He didnt think having super-powered people everywhere was safe, which to be fair... It wasn't. Normally. "...Well, I dont much like debating... But I think there is a an important caveat to that, Ban," He paused, regretting for just a moment that he was about to get political. "We Earthlings are very unique, in that we are naturally weak. Compared to the rest of the galaxy... Its just an unfortunate fact. We have to work for our strength ninety-nine percent of the time, and those who don't follow that rule are usually some mix of aliens," He explained.

"This uniqueness is important. We have to hone fighting styles and martial arts just to give us an edge. And martial arts require discipline—I would know, I used to be a cocky little kid who got into fights all the time. My teacher... Martial arts, set me straight," He explained wistfully. "Im kinda dragging my feet here... I'm sorta bad at conveying these big ideas, but the point im trying to make is... It depends on the type of super-powered person. This is going to sound really arrogant, but if we just had a bunch of martial artists like me around... Maybe these terror attacks would still happen, but we'd have good-hearted, powerful disciplined folk to intervene," He finished, scratching the back of his head meekly.

"It's not a great solution, but it sits better with me than just restricting folks more and more," He finished, not wanting to speak further of his own accord. He listened to the rest of what Ban said quietly. Sighing, he replied-

"Again, I'm not sure what I would do in his shoes. I dont blame him for all these accords—He's the president, and we're in a constant crisis—He has to try and do something,"

"I just have a feeling, and my instincts are usually right. It feels like maybe, we're approaching a point of no return..." He said quietly.