Quick note: Due to this site taking out double spaces, I'll
be using a 0 as a spacer. I apologize if it fails to save my indents. It's
how I learned to write in school and I have a very hard time writing a
story in the same format as my notes at the end of the chapters.
0
Blood and stone were two of the worst tastes
in the world, Tonkeshin decided. He pushed himself up off the fighting
floor Piccolo just slammed him into for the tenth time in a row.
Piccolo landed nearby, his clothes torn and dampened by sweat. Tonk listened to his ragged breathing. He smiled to himself. A tiny cut on his bottom lip stung in protest. Well, at least I made him breathe hard, that has to count for something.
"Nice high kick you got there."
"Thanks." Tonk faked a bow. As he bent over, he rushed straight at the sound of Piccolo's panting. His fist hit empty air.
"Spectacular lunge!" Shouted the Announcer from the side, "but Tonkeshin is in for a surprise!"
Don't help me, Announcer, I can do this myself!
Muscle bound arms wrapped around Tonk's middle. Tonk opened his mouth wide in shock as he got suplexed right back onto the floor he ate two minutes ago.
His frustration level rose another notch. "You know, I'm really getting tired of this floor."
"Feh," spat Piccolo, "then come do something about it."
Tonkeshin struggled to push up. Piccolo outweighed him by at least ninety to a hundred pounds. All muscle, he noticed with dismay. Fatigue was setting in and he didn't know if he still had the energy to keep wrestling like this.
"I have a question for you." Piccolo's voice vibrated through his arm, a sensation Tonk found unpleasant.
The air puffed from Tonk's lungs. "Go ahead."
Piccolo tightened his grip, "Where were you when Freeza attacked Nail? I didn't see your body anywhere."
Pain shot through Tonkeshin's shoulder. He gritted his teeth.
"Do you wish to give up?"
He startled, he didn't hear the Announcer approach!
"NO!" snarled Tonk, "Get away before you get hurt!"
"Answer my question!" growled Piccolo, "Where were you?"
"GAAAH! I was. . .sent out to. . ." he panted, "get water for the wounded villagers. I hurried to Nail when I felt his ki dying."
Tonk felt the pressure on his shoulder ease a bit. Sweat dripped in his eyes, making them sting. He licked his lips and tasted a mix of salt, water, blood and stone. It burned when he swallowed.
Piccolo was sweating pretty heavily. Every breath Tonk took carried the dusty, salty scent of his perspiration.
"Tonkeshin. . ." he said, "did it ever occur to you that the villagers thought you were in the way and just needed an excuse to get rid of you for awhile?"
"What the hell kind of question is that?"
"You probably stood there in the middle of all that madness, wondering what was going on. You've never seen war before then, have you?"
"No," Tonk gasped, "but that didn't mean I was in the way, either."
"Then why did they send you out and not someone else?"
Tonk bit his lip and stared into the void. Had he really been in the way on that fateful day? Were they really just trying to get rid of one nuisance so they could deal with Vegeta?
The decision saved his life.
"I wasn't injured." Tonk grunted. "I could still run."
He heard Piccolo snort derisively, "Yeah, you ran all right. You ran right to Freeza and got yourself killed."
"I was avenging my teacher!"
"And you failed."
"So?"
"You failed because you're blind, Tonkeshin." Piccolo said each word slowly, as if spelling it out. "I bet Nail just took you in and trained you because he felt sorry for you."
Piccolo's words shot across Tonk's brain like a spear. Of all the stupid, stereotypical, idiotic, ignorant things he'd heard in his life, that had to be the worst.
And it stung worse than the sweat in his eyes.
"That's not true," he whispered, "I admit that my training did take longer than average, but I did it. He wouldn't have taken me as a student if he didn't believe I could be trained to fight."
Another snort. "Everybody in this arena feels sorry for you."
Heat pulsed in Tonkeshin's stomach. "Bullshit!"
"That's all people ever notice about you. That cane you tap around, how your eyes stare and how you grope around to find something two inches from your nose. It's pathetic."
Tonk tried to swallow, but his throat clutched tight. Fatigue took a back seat to the new tension rippling up his spine. Piccolo's words drilled painfully through his consciousness and fell into a well of anger he always kept under a lid of tolerance.
His heart throbbed faster. Blood roared in his ears. Veins pulsed on his forehead.
"So, what are you trying to say, Piccolo?" he asked softly.
The smirk on Piccolo's face showed in his voice, "Just that, everywhere you go, everybody's going to remember you as 'the blind green guy'."
Tonk allowed himself a deep breath, forcing the lid of tolerance to slip off rather than explode to send rage everywhere.
"Piccolo?" he spoke in a voice an octave lower than usual.
The other Namek grunted in reply.
Ki crackled around Tonk's frame. He blew Piccolo clean off his back and stood up, glaring towards the sound of impact. The Announcer shouted something about the energy wave, but Tonkeshin didn't listen.
"Being blind is part of who I am, but it's not me. If that's all you notice, then you see even less than I do."
No answer from Piccolo.
A cool breeze flitted across his skin, cooling the sweat on his brow and toying with the ends of his vest. It did little to ease the burning anger crawling under his skin.
Of all the things Tonk hated in the universe, pity topped his list.
"Come on, Piccolo. I know you're not hurt."
Silence.
He growled, "Get over here! I'll show you exactly why nobody needs to pity me!"
Haymaker out of nowhere. Tonk hit the floor hard, snarled and flipped to his feet. Every sense stood on edge. He strained his ears and - there!
"Found you." he dropped and swept Piccolo's legs.
Piccolo jumped.
Tonkeshin smiled inwardly. He jammed his shoulder into the ground mid-spin to force more momentum, rolling from shoulder to upper back to the other shoulder. Then he pushed his hips upwards, gaining speed. His long legs kicked up like a breakdancer's.
And Piccolo landed right in the middle of his rotating feet. The effect was similar to throwing rocks in a blender.
"Oofoofoof!"
Tonk sandwiched Piccolo's head between his ankles and flung him against the stone floor. The stone crumbled on impact. Rock fragments stung his knees and shins. But, as much as that hurt, Piccolo had to be hurting worse.
He sat up, panting and rubbing his scraped shoulders. Off to the left, he could hear Piccolo's clothes sliding as he moved around.
"If Nail pitied me, he wouldn't have taken me as a student."
A snide chuckle. "You're right."
"They seem to be catching their breath." shouted the Announcer with glee, "That was AMAZING! Makes me miss high school!"
Curling his lip, Tonk kipped up. "You wanted me mad, I'm mad. Now get up."
"Gladly."
Next thing Tonk knew, Piccolo was above him. He felt a ripple of ki, gasped and jumped backwards. A ki blast scorched the floor inches from his toes.
He spun and flung one at Piccolo's ki signature. The other Namek dodged.
Sound shadow on the left. The breeze of a kick!
Tonk caught Piccolo's extended leg, but Piccolo continued around. He let go of the leg to block the other one.
A cheer from the audience. Too close!
He ran a quick mental calculation. Two more steps and he'd fall out.
Another kick.
Tonk's feet scraped the ring's edge. He lunged forward, slamming himself and Piccolo back towards the center.
"I'm not an idiot, I know where the edges are by listening to the crowd."
"Good," came the cool reply, "then I know you won't fall out like a disappointing sissy."
They locked again in a flurry of punches and kicks. The Announcer kept the audience abreast of their too-fast-to-really-follow actions.
Enough of this, Tonkeshin growled. Flinging Piccolo off his back, he squared his stance and called on the ki deep in his soul. He reached down into the boiling pot of rage and tapped into power he never knew existed.
Piccolo landed six feet away. He panted, growled and began gathering ki of his own.
It was a race between who could power up first.
I started first. . .that may give me an advantage. He powers up faster than I do. Tonk reassured himself with a nod, his face tight and determined.
"There's a lot of energy flowing here!" cried the Announcer. The wind roared across his microphone.
He smirked, I guess it's true, only avid ki users can actually see auras. The audience must think we're glaring at each other while a lot of wind blows around. Heh, humans are funny.
"Get ready, Tonkeshin," said Piccolo, his voice strained with effort, "this is your moment."
"Don't patronize me, Piccolo," growled Tonk. He pulled harder on his ki stores, feeling the heat ooze off his body in waves. The wind was really just a bunch of electromagnetic waves blasting off his aura like a solar wind. It just had more density than the solar wind - hence nasty side effects like craters and cars impaled in buildings.
Hold on, if he's taking on a positive charge. . .
"Masenko - " Piccolo began.
. . .then I'll take a positive and it'll blast him right out of the ring!
Tonk inverted his hands, forcing his energy across an altered path, and let loose.
"HAAA!"
Time ceased to exist. Tonkeshin remained frozen in his masenko posture. All his prayers rested on the blazing energy ball whizzing towards Piccolo's expelled ki signature.
He didn't have to wait long.
Both masenko blasts slammed together with deafening force. Each quivering like twin magnets of the same polarity trying to repel each other.
I gotta be careful. If I let go, this thing will bounce off Piccolo's and come right back at me.
Backlash nearly ripped Tonk off his feet. He dug his toes into a crack in the fighting floor and fought to stay his course. Piccolo pushed back. The energy threatened to rip his shoulders from their sockets. His muscles burned.
People in the audience started screaming. Food wrappers, hats, anything loose went flying.
"It's another energy struggle! Parts of the ring are breaking up! Cover your heads, folks, this is dangerous!"
Piccolo's ki wavered.
Tonk pushed against it.
Piccolo shoved back.
Growling, Tonk forced the tug of war into the ring's center. His shoulders screamed in agony. Pain raced up his legs. The ki he released reached a peak so high it nearly penetrated the nothingness surrounding his world.
Quakes shook the arena. More people screamed. The floor sagged under Tonk's feet.
His soles scraped the shattered stone. He sensed Piccolo sliding too.
Suddenly, a huge backlash wave blasted Tonk airborne. He flipped end over end, struggling to distinguish up from down. Vertigo distorted his senses.
THUD!
Tonk landed flat on his back, wide eyed and panting. Imaginary gongs rang in his ears. His head buzzed.
Something tickled his ear.
Grass? There's no grass in -
Reality crystallized.
Tonkeshin lay there, horrified with the realization that he just landed outside the ring. He'd lost. He'd lost.
"WOW! This is a first for the World Martial Arts Tournament! Both of our combatants have landed outside the ring at the SAME TIME!"
What!
The Announcer cried out, "I've just been informed that, due to both competitors having a ring-out, neither are qualified to continue to the next round. This match is a draw! How about that! What a FIGHT!"
Cheers surrounded the fighting ring.
"Hey."
Tonk turned towards the low voice, "Nice blast, Piccolo."
"Feh."
"Tonk! Tonk!" Heavy feet thudded in the grass. "Tonk, how many fingers am I holding up?"
"Greg?" he reached out, felt the coarse, beefy fingers waving in front of his face and smirked, "forty two."
Greg laughed and hauled him upright, "He's fine."
Wobbling from dizziness, Tonk punched his human friend in the shoulder. Then his world faded.0
Distant voices.
". . .slight concussion. He'll be fine."
Scents of disinfectant. Iodine and alcohol.
Greg's echoing reply, "And the big guy?"
A chirping female voice, "Up and about already."
Tonkeshin touched his forehead and groaned. His fingers encountered a rough gauze pad taped just above his aching antenna. He blinked and ran a hand over his face and neck. Each painful spot told him where he was either bruised or cut.
Wow, not as bad as I thought I'd be.
He closed his eyes to concentrate. His wounds closed and the bruises faded. Except for being sore, he was pretty much all right.
Sounds from outside muffled. A body blocked the door. Tonk turned towards it, wary. "Who's there?"
"Me," came Piccolo's gruff reply.
His face lit up. He peeled the gauze off his forehead. "Hey! Are you okay? Did you get knocked out too?"
Piccolo walked forward, bringing his scent and voice closer, "Only for a minute."
To Tonk's chagrin, Piccolo hadn't showered before coming into the room. Nice guy, but smelly when he perspired. Right as he thought of that, he realized he probably needed to take a shower himself.
"Man," he stretched, "I could use a hot shower right about now. How about you?"
"Feh." Piccolo snorted, "I guess I better. I certainly won't sweat this mud off."
"Mud?"
"You blasted me into a mud puddle."
Tonk covered a smile with both hands. So that was why he smelled a little more earthy than usual. "Sorry."
No, he wasn't really that sorry.
"Tch, c'mon. Grab your cane off the table."
He felt around, found the table and spider walked his fingers until he located his smooth cane. Smiling, he let gravity unfold it. The cane seemed to cast a spell that turned all chaos into order.
"Okay, I'm right behind you."
Upon rising, he felt his antennae tap against something above his bed. He ducked and raised a hand to see what almost took his head off. Who the heck would put a shelf there?
"Heh, guess those things have some use after all."
"I know, but I don't do radios."
"Feh." Piccolo cracked his knuckles and slipped out.
"Hey! Tonk!" Called Greg from down the hall. A nurse tried to hush him, but he continued, "You overgrown booger, you shouldn't be up! What are you doing!"
With an ear on Piccolo's progress, Tonk slowed his pace. "Beefcake, I'm fine. I'm just going to go clean up."
"Butthead." Greg caught his arm to halt his progress, "I'm going to go watch the rest of the Tournament. My seat got trashed, so me and those other green guys - "
"Dende and Lians," he corrected him.
"Yeah, them, I'll be sitting up there. Don't get lost and make me send a search party."
"Nah, send the strippers." Tonk gave Greg a light shove, "That way I can follow the trail of lacy bras and g-strings."
"BAH!" A beefy hand clapped his shoulder. "And you call me a pervert."
"Because you are."
Both laughed.
Greg hustled to feed change into a vending machine. Tonk took a few skipping steps to catch up with Piccolo.
"Sorry, Greg just wanted to tell me where he's going," he said as they passed through the locker room and slipped into steamy, humid air.
His cane detected smooth tile and a wall. The bathroom split two ways. A shower hissed on the right. Turning that way, he tapped his way towards the curtain.
"Phew, I really reek."
"I generally don't notice my own smells." Piccolo muttered. Water slapped loudly on his skin and splattered all over the floor. He hadn't even bothered to pull the shower curtain around.
Tonk shrugged, folded his cane, stripped naked and turned on the spigot right next to Piccolo's. "Heh, no wonder you don't realize you stink when you sweat."
"I said I don't notice my own smells," said Piccolo. "The soap is -"
"Piccolo. . .it's okay. I can smell where the soap is. I hate it when people try to be over protective," he smiled brightly and lathered himself up. "but thanks anyway."
Silence.
"Something wrong?"
"You just grabbed my soap." There was a smirk in his voice.
Laughing, Tonk held it up to him, one eye winked shut, "Didn't say I was perfect."
He felt Piccolo's fingers brush his as he took the smooth soap off his palm.
"Nobody is," Piccolo shifted, coating himself in pine-scented suds. He paused to wash his face. "but you're capable of a lot more than I expected. Nail trained you well, Tonkeshin."
Tonk found his own soap just as Piccolo's shower cut off. He washed behind his ears, under his arms and all around his chest. After a quick rinse, he finished, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked carefully across the wet tiles, trailing the wall with his cane and free hand to find his locker.
Realizing the locker room was empty, Tonk whipped the towel off to dry his head. "Still in here?"
"Yeah." on the far right. "I'm already dressed."
Tonk wasn't embarrassed by the revelation. Piccolo probably didn't have any genitals either, so it wasn't like Tonk's lacking them would shock him. He did, however, feel the other's eyes watch him locate his locker door, open it and paw around for his clothes and some deodorant.
Good old Sure.
He dressed himself in his usual jeans and T-shirt. "Didn't we have a deal?"
"I remember it." His locker creaked as Piccolo leaned on the door. "But neither of us won."
"I think it was a tie." Tonkeshin smiled. He popped his belongings into a capsule that he placed in his pocket and reached for his cane. "So I guess we both have to keep up our ends."
"Mm. I have never tasted a, what did you call it - "
"Smoothie."
"- smoothie, before."
Tonk's smile grew. As his cane unfolded, he said, "Trust me, they're great."
"I suppose I can trust you," Piccolo sounded dryly amused. "We should go before intermission starts, or we may never get out of here without reporters jumping down our throats."
They stepped outside together, Tonk using Piccolo's padding footsteps as a directional guide.
Ki sparkled to life on the right. Small at first, then huge upon approach. Obnoxiously high. Tonkeshin wrinkled his nose, he knew that ki and faced its source when it stopped beside him.
"What do you want, Vegeta?"
"Nothing," said the arrogant Saiyajin, "You fight pretty good. . .for a blind guy."
Tonk snorted at his sarcasm. "Don't expect my attitude towards you to change just because of what I heard about you."
Vegeta's smooth tenor voice reeked of egotism, "I don't have time for you anyway."
And Tonk bristled, "You ARROGANT little -"
"Guys, come on." Piccolo stepped between them, growling a bit himself. "Don't start this crap again."
"Hmph. Fine." said Vegeta. He turned away, chuckled and walked back towards the main arena. His ki stopped flaring, thus saving Tonk's head from the obnoxious buzzing. "See you in three years, blind bean."
"I won't see you, but I'll smell your rotten Saiyajin blood! You hear me! I still remember what you did!"
"Tonkeshin, he's gone. Let it go."
He boiled in silence, but the high of the Tournament quickly cooled his temper. I shouldn't let an idiot like Vegeta ruin my day. Besides, I can always get a rematch in three more years. Maybe I'll get lucky and win!
"So. . .how many flavors are there in a smoothie?"
"Huh?" He started walking with Piccolo again, his cane tapping on the sidewalk. "Well, there's my favorite - virgin tropical, but there's mango, mocha, watermelon. . ."
Tonk was still naming off smoothie flavors when they exited the Tournament grounds.0
"Two virgin tropicals for the Tournament boys here.
On the house, okay?"
"Wow, are you sure?"
"Tonkeshin, she said it's free. Enjoy it while you can."
Tonk shoved his wallet back into its proper pocket. He heard himself thanking the waitress and pressed his palms to the cool smoothie glass. All around, people were talking about him, Piccolo and the Tournament.
Mr. Satan won, naturally, and pumped up his public image by donating his winnings to a children's hospital in West City.
Smiling, Tonk wrapped his lips around the straw and slurped. Delicious fruity flavors rolled over his tongue. He heard Piccolo do the same.
"Hm," Piccolo's lips smacked together, "this isn't half bad, Tonkeshin."
He slurped on his own, draining a fourth of the glass in one go. Something about the cold thickness drove away his cares about the day. All that mattered was the taste. "I told you, they're good."
A sigh from Piccolo. He sighed a lot, Tonk realized. Then he heard gulping and the clunk of a glass settling on the table. Piccolo just chugged his smoothie!
He heard him slap a palm over his forehead. "Ow. . .my head. . ."
"You're supposed to sip it and enjoy the taste," Tonk pointed out, chuckling. "Otherwise, you'll get brain freeze."
Piccolo shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the crowd of people eating and laughing around them. He let go of his head and rapped on the glass tabletop. "Old habits die hard, I guess."
With a smile, Tonk shook his head and sipped from his straw. "Guess so. Want to get out of here? You sound antsy."
"Hmph." Coins clattered onto the table. "Your human friend is consuming too much alcohol."
"He's a big boy. It takes a lot to get him drunk."
"Fine."
Piccolo stood up and walked away. Tonk rushed after him, barely dodging other people and chairs sitting in his path. He stumbled outside into the balmy evening air. The ocean hissed and sizzled a short distance away, but he didn't take time to smell the yummy sea foam aroma.
Cloth flapped ahead. Tonk followed the sound.
"I'm not a fan of crowds," Piccolo said by way of apology.
"It's fine. I understand." he said, flipping his cane into the pencil grip. "What do you look like?"
"What do I - oh. . ." the other fell silent for a long time. Many swishes of surf passed before his answer came, "Dende says I look just like Nail. I'd assume you know what he looked like."
"Yes, I've felt Nail's face before."
"Good. Now for my end of the deal," Piccolo faced him, "I found Nail after Freeza attacked him."
Weight settled on Tonk's heart. He swallowed hard, remembering how bad Nail sounded the last time they spoke.
"Nail was mortally wounded, probably a few minutes from dying, when I found him. He told me he'd seen Freeza's power and that my power alone wasn't enough to do battle. He said if we combined our powers together, we'd have a chance." Piccolo lowered his tone, "So we fused, and he's been a part of me ever since."
"Was. . ." Tonk leaned forward, ". . .was he still alive when you merged?"
"Yes." answered a rough tenor voice. "I'm still alive."
Tonkeshin felt his cane slip through boneless fingers. A lump formed in his throat. He stared blankly ahead, wide eyed, tears pooling against his lower eyelids.
"Nail," he reached out. The other Namek didn't move. Tonk's shaking fingers encountered a familiar, strong chin, tilted eyes and soft lips. The cheekbones were sharper than the ones he remembered, a harsh reminder that Nail no longer existed as he knew him.
Yet it didn't matter when Nail smiled through Piccolo's lips. "You made me proud today."
Tears streamed down Tonk's cheeks. He bit his lower lip, "I didn't win. It was a draw."
"I know, I can see what Piccolo sees." Nail still smiled, "Winning or losing doesn't matter, Tonkeshin, it's how well you fought that counts. And you fought very well."
He let his fingers slide off Nail's face and gripped the front of his shirt.
Nail chuckled softly. Tonk was drawn close and pressed to his chest. It didn't feel or smell like Nail, but that didn't matter. "It's also okay to cry if you need to. I have yet to teach Piccolo that, so you have one up on him there."
Tonk laughed and sobbed at the same time. "When I couldn't find you after the Earthers wished us back, I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
"It's all right now. But you don't need my help anymore. I taught you everything I know, and you've done pretty good on your own here."
Somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out.
Tonk leaned back and looked up towards the other Namek's face. His eyes were puffy from the tears still trickling down his cheeks. "That doesn't mean I don't need you anymore! Isn't there a way to get your own body back?"
Nail audibly shook his head, "This was a one time deal."
Sighing, Tonk swiped at the moisture on his face. He hated it when other people saw him cry no matter what the reason. "So this is goodbye. . ."
"No. It's silly to say goodbye to someone that isn't gone."
"You're right," he chuckled, his smile emerging like warmth after a cold storm, "so you'll still be around, in Piccolo?"
"As long as he lives."
That set Tonk's heart at ease.
"For the record," Nail squeezed his shoulder, "I hardly ever noticed you were blind until you walked into a closed door or fell off a cliff -"
"Argh!" Tonk's face lit on fire. "Not the cliff! I was hoping you'd forget that."
"Ah," a laugh, "I can still see you wandering away without your cane and walking right off the edge while bragging about your excellent sense of direction."
"That was embarrassing." he groaned, "I hate cliffs. Good thing I hit water, huh?"
"Good thing I knew how to swim."
They both chuckled.
"Ahh, Piccolo wants control again." Nail cleared his throat, "I can't keep pushing him back forever."
Nodding slowly, Tonk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"
"You won't always know I'm there, but I'll check up on you once in awhile."
"Thanks, Nail." He felt another tear get away, "for everything."
"You're welcome."
Both fell silent. Tonk kept clutching "Nail's" shirt, his ears flooded with the roaring ocean six feet away. It hissed and sizzled as if alive, yet everything else stood perfectly still. Frozen in time.
Piccolo loudly cleared his throat, startling Tonkeshin from his reverie. "You can let go now."
Smiling sheepishly, Tonk released Piccolo's baggy shirt.
"Here," Piccolo handed him his cane, "I should be going now. Nice meeting you, Tonkeshin. I enjoyed our fight."
Still shaken, Tonk accepted his cane in numb fingers. "Me, too. And I think you're pretty cool, Piccolo. Look me up if you want another smoothie."
"I'll keep that in mind." Piccolo pulled his cape around his body. It swished twice. Then his energy signal zoomed straight west and disappeared, leaving Tonk alone on the beach.
"Bye. . ." he whispered to the horizon.
Suddenly, a piece of shrimp slapped into the back of his head. It slid down under his shirt, trailing freezing cold sauce. He "gah'ed" and danced around, trying to shake it out.
A brave seagull landed on his head and snatched the shrimp out of his shirt. The bird's cold, wet feet shifted as it turned around and decided to sit down on his head.
Greg's laughter echoed over the beach. Somebody took a photo.
"GREG!" Tonk's eyes crossed when he felt seagull droppings splatter on the back of his neck. He batted the buzzard off his head and used the surf to clean off. "Argh! This thing crapped on me!"
"It what!" The chubby human burst into hysterics. "AHAHA! Guess it liked you. Here, have more!"
"No, I don't - "
Splat!
Another shrimp hit Tonk between the eyes and slid coldly down the slope of his nose. He caught it, sniffed it once and popped it into his mouth. Might as well eat it before the gull decided to use his head as a perch again. He almost gagged on the slimy texture, which brought back the very wet memory of Carol's martini kiss.
"Ready to chase those bras, Tonk?" Greg called from the cafe door. Tonk could tell he was a little drunk by his obnoxious tone.
"Are you ready to eat a bucket of shrimp whole?" He tapped towards his human friend, grinning wickedly. "C'mere, let's see how many I can fit - "
"Hell no!" he slammed the door.
Tonk pulled the door back open, laughing, "You better run!"
"Boy," Lians called from the bar, his gruff voice obvious above the rest. The next time he spoke, he was at the door beside him, "your friend drank four beers and a wine cooler. I think he is out of sorts."
"How do you do that, Lians?" Dende materialized out of nowhere.
"I can smell, that's how," the elder replied. Sake hung on his breath, but he wasn't the least bit drunk. Unlike most of the humans making fools of themselves around the eatery part of the cafe, he seemed to know when he'd had enough.
Somebody sang on the kareoke machine. Whoever they were, they needed voice lessons. Tonk cringed at the high notes. "Who IS that up there?"
It was Dende's turn to act sheepish. "That's. . .Krillin. He's drunk. . .and Eighteen is dragging him offstage right now."
Lians huffed. "The others have gone ahead."
"Aw, I wanted to say 'bye' to Gohan and Pan." Tonk frowned, "That little girl is so cute.."
"Indeed."
"Well, I shouldn't mope. I'll see them again someday." Laughing, Tonk brushed past them. His cane bumped into the potted plant by the door. The bar was quiet, probably close to closing for the night. "Come on, let's all have another smoothie before they kick us out."
"You silly children can have a smoothie if you like." said Lians. He gave a watery laugh as he planted himself on a barstool that creaked under his weight, "I will partake of one more sake bowl."
"You know what?" Easing himself onto a stool next to Lians, Tonk raised a finger, "Make that two sake bowls."
"Gods, you two!"
"Oh, come on, Dende! Just one?"
"It'll put muscle in your chest, boy, and you could use a little muscle." Lians rapped his long, sharp nails on the bartop and barked, "Barkeep?"
Earth's Guardian sounded a bit reluctant. "Mm, fine, I guess I'm old enough for one. But only one."
"That's more like it!"
"Correction," Tonk raised his hand again, grinning at the flustered bartender. "make that three sake bowls!"0
The room spun. His head spun. Life spun. Sounds came
from further away than they actually were. Every one of his senses were
distorted beyond recognition. The floor under his feet slanted as if he
was walking up a sharp incline. A second later it tilted the other way
like a boat on choppy water.
"Ooh, liquor hates me," moaned Tonkeshin. His Namekian brogue, which he couldn't suppress while drunk, leaked into his voice. He spoke with as thick an accent as the blind elder sitting beside him.
"Boy, you need to work up your tolerance," Lians caught Tonk when his knees buckled. "You're not swinging your cane properly."
"Both of us," Dende staggered alongside them, mumbling, "guh, I think I'm gonna be sick!"
Lians just laughed while poor Dende threw up in the potted plant by the door. Tonk wrinkled his nose at the smell of bile.
"Lians, you're terrible! You did this on purpose, didn't you?"
The elder Namek huffed in mock indignance, "How else are you supposed to celebrate a battle well fought? Ahh. . .this makes me miss the old brew we used to make on Namek. . ."
Tonk ran nose first into a wall. He could've sworn a door existed there two minutes ago. Gah, I forgot my swing. His hand wandered until he found the handle and pushed it open. Sea air greeted him, clearing his senses enough to tell up from down.
"Oh, crap," Greg jogged up to them, "you got both of them drunk?"
Lians just chuckled. His wooden cane slid against the rough cement walkway outside the cafe. "Tonkeshin never could hold liquor to save his life. Dende hasn't tasted it before tonight. It isn't my fault they can't handle it. It was, after all, their decision to partake of the bottle."
"One BOWL full, not the bottle." Tonk cut in, laughing. He could smell the sake on his own breath. "Oh boy, I think I'm gonna fall now." And he toppled backwards, his feet sticking straight up in the air.
"Good idea."
THUD!
Dende joined him a second later.
"Um, Lians?" Greg hedged, "Can I borrow your stick? I've always wanted to poke Tonk with a stick."
"Tch, get your own stick, boy."
Tonk felt Lians wrap a strong, wrinkled hand around his arm and haul him up.
"M'awake, I swear!"
"Good, put your hand on your friend's shoulder and he'll lead you to your sleeping area." the hand let go. Tonk cocked his head at the elder's words. Lians went on, "I must take Dende somewhere to rest. We'll return to the Lookout in the morning."
"Soooo. . .this is goodbye for a little while?"
"This won't be the last time we meet, Tonkeshin."
"No," said Greg, all humor gone from his voice, "but it better be the last time you get Tonk drunk. You know that's not good for him."
"Button it," Lians groused, "he can handle a little drink. But your concern is accepted. Next time," he clicked his fangs, "I'll make it two."
Greg finally got Lians' sarcastic humor. He wrapped his arm more tightly around Tonk's waist and laughed. "And I'll make sure you chug a whole bottle just to see if that wastes you, old man!"
"Bah! It takes four bottles before I feel anything!"
"Gweh," Dende moaned, "Pleeeaaaaase stop yellin', my head is ringin'! Ow."
"I wasn't yellin'," Tonk snickered. Suddenly, everything seemed utterly hilarious. Greg's voice, Lians' proclamation, Dende's groaning. . .even the sound of the ocean made him giggle like he heard a whoopie cushion go off during a high school exam.
"Here come the giggles. I better get him back to the hotel."
"Hey, heheh, Lians," he snorted really loud, making himself laugh harder. Any attempt at being serious went flying out the window. "It was nice to see you again. Come back soon, BWAHAHAHA, okay? Please?"
"It's a promise." Lians turned away, "Come morning, I will be gone. The wish was to allow me one day here on Earth. At sunrise I will be transported back to Namek." A smile showed in his tone, "And THAT, boy, is why I made you drink. So you won't be upset with me. Now go with your friend and rest for tonight. You did yourself proud. Remember that."
"Aw, Lians," he snorted again, this time causing Greg to break up. "Thanks a lot for comin'."
"Anytime." the elder hauled Dende to his feet. Dende mumbled something resembling a farewell. Then Lians' tapping cane faded onto the sand. Knowing him, he probably dropped Dende in the freezing surf to wake him up.
Vertigo made a nasty return trip.
"Riding the merry go round from Hell yet?"
"I never got off," mumbled Tonk, "help me to the hotel room, okay? And please don't write on the back of my head after I'm asleep like last time!"
"You know me, I'd never do a thing like that."
"Exactly." he followed Greg when he started walking off the beach. "If I wake up wearin' your underwear on my head, you'll be eatin' 'em for lunch."
"Trust me."
That was the last thing he remembered.
When Tonk woke up the next morning, tired and hungover, he discovered Greg had rearranged every piece of furniture in the hotel room. He banged into a chair, tripped into the nightstand and fell headfirst over his suitcase. Somehow, in his disorientation, he found his cane slung over the coat rack placed right in front of the toilet.
"Greg, you are so dead," he moaned to himself. "Or you will be as soon as I brush my teeth. . ."
Tonk got Greg back by replacing all of his underwear with cheap thongs. He used the camera phone to take a picture of himself throwing a pair of boxers out the window.
Greg found the thongs first, then the picture. He grudgingly agreed to fix the room. They both had a good laugh about it.
And Tonk stole just enough extra time to shower before he had to prepare for the flight back to Satan City.0
Click.
"Goooooooood morning Satan City! This is Kreemin Shooger at SC one - zero - three - point - five! The time is seven-thirty. Today we have hazy skies with lows in the mid sixties and a high of ninety two. Currently, downtown Satan City is reporting in at seventy-three degrees. I'll be back with your traffic report - "
A hand searched the nightstand, found the clock and switched off the alarm. Sheets rustled in protest as a sleepy figure stirred from underneath.
Tonkeshin yawned, dropped to the floor and did ten quick push ups to shake off his grogginess. He'd set his clock to play the radio by mistake, again. Ah well, he kind of liked it that way.
He went through his usual morning routine of a hot shower, dressing in a clean suit, brushing his teeth and taking a quick breakfast sip of water. Then it was off to face his ordinary life all over again.
The walk to work proved a peaceful one. He smiled at the people who recognized him.
His favorite part?
They didn't recognize him because of his cane. They recognized him because 'he was the underdog green man that kicked butt at the Tournament'.
It was the recognition he wanted. By the time he reached his workplace, he felt higher than a kite.
Tonk pressed a hand to the cool door leading into the office. Suspicious silence greeted him when he slid inside.
"Hello?" He tapped around, listening for echoes, "Uh. . .we are working today, aren't we?"
The entire place erupted into applause.
He stared ahead, stunned. Then his face burned. Smiling, he ducked his head, "Aw geez, you got me!"
A hand more meaty than Greg's clapped Tonk across the back. Tonk jumped and turned towards its owner, "Mr. Latte?"
"Naturally," came the hearty southern reply, "Kreemin and I saw you on TV, and the Tournament directors let us broadcast audio from the Tournament. You were great! You got us publicity!" Mr. Latte tucked a cigar into Tonk's jacket pocket. "I think, just for that, you deserve a little raise."
Tonk gulped, afraid to mention that he didn't smoke. "R-really?"
"Two hundred more bucks, Tonk!" Greg called from his cubicle.
"TWO hundred? Are you sure?"
Another arm materialized out of nowhere. This one smelled of vanilla hand cream, "You're a lucky guy, Tonk."
"Carol," He blushed and, for lack of anything better to say, stammered, "Umm, ah. . .I'm late for work."
The whole office laughed. Realizing how silly he sounded, Tonk chortled right along with them. Then he folded his cane and made a hasty retreat for his desk. Somebody put balloons all over his cubicle, most of which he found with his nose.
Everybody in the office had fun batting the balloons back and forth. Then Mr. Latte caught them red handed and ordered them to save it for break time.
As he placed his hands on his keyboard, Tonk sensed a ki landing on the movie theater rooftop across the street. He turned towards the open window. The breeze blew on his face, carrying with it the smallest hint of desert dust.
His phone rang, reminding him that, despite what he'd learned about himself, his everyday life was still the same. He faced his computer screen, smiled and took the call.
"Hi, this is SC one - zero - three - point - five. My name is Tonkeshin. How can I help you?"
Sorry for the wait!
Blending In
22
0
Piccolo landed nearby, his clothes torn and dampened by sweat. Tonk listened to his ragged breathing. He smiled to himself. A tiny cut on his bottom lip stung in protest. Well, at least I made him breathe hard, that has to count for something.
"Nice high kick you got there."
"Thanks." Tonk faked a bow. As he bent over, he rushed straight at the sound of Piccolo's panting. His fist hit empty air.
"Spectacular lunge!" Shouted the Announcer from the side, "but Tonkeshin is in for a surprise!"
Don't help me, Announcer, I can do this myself!
Muscle bound arms wrapped around Tonk's middle. Tonk opened his mouth wide in shock as he got suplexed right back onto the floor he ate two minutes ago.
His frustration level rose another notch. "You know, I'm really getting tired of this floor."
"Feh," spat Piccolo, "then come do something about it."
Tonkeshin struggled to push up. Piccolo outweighed him by at least ninety to a hundred pounds. All muscle, he noticed with dismay. Fatigue was setting in and he didn't know if he still had the energy to keep wrestling like this.
"I have a question for you." Piccolo's voice vibrated through his arm, a sensation Tonk found unpleasant.
The air puffed from Tonk's lungs. "Go ahead."
Piccolo tightened his grip, "Where were you when Freeza attacked Nail? I didn't see your body anywhere."
Pain shot through Tonkeshin's shoulder. He gritted his teeth.
"Do you wish to give up?"
He startled, he didn't hear the Announcer approach!
"NO!" snarled Tonk, "Get away before you get hurt!"
"Answer my question!" growled Piccolo, "Where were you?"
"GAAAH! I was. . .sent out to. . ." he panted, "get water for the wounded villagers. I hurried to Nail when I felt his ki dying."
Tonk felt the pressure on his shoulder ease a bit. Sweat dripped in his eyes, making them sting. He licked his lips and tasted a mix of salt, water, blood and stone. It burned when he swallowed.
Piccolo was sweating pretty heavily. Every breath Tonk took carried the dusty, salty scent of his perspiration.
"Tonkeshin. . ." he said, "did it ever occur to you that the villagers thought you were in the way and just needed an excuse to get rid of you for awhile?"
"What the hell kind of question is that?"
"You probably stood there in the middle of all that madness, wondering what was going on. You've never seen war before then, have you?"
"No," Tonk gasped, "but that didn't mean I was in the way, either."
"Then why did they send you out and not someone else?"
Tonk bit his lip and stared into the void. Had he really been in the way on that fateful day? Were they really just trying to get rid of one nuisance so they could deal with Vegeta?
The decision saved his life.
"I wasn't injured." Tonk grunted. "I could still run."
He heard Piccolo snort derisively, "Yeah, you ran all right. You ran right to Freeza and got yourself killed."
"I was avenging my teacher!"
"And you failed."
"So?"
"You failed because you're blind, Tonkeshin." Piccolo said each word slowly, as if spelling it out. "I bet Nail just took you in and trained you because he felt sorry for you."
Piccolo's words shot across Tonk's brain like a spear. Of all the stupid, stereotypical, idiotic, ignorant things he'd heard in his life, that had to be the worst.
And it stung worse than the sweat in his eyes.
"That's not true," he whispered, "I admit that my training did take longer than average, but I did it. He wouldn't have taken me as a student if he didn't believe I could be trained to fight."
Another snort. "Everybody in this arena feels sorry for you."
Heat pulsed in Tonkeshin's stomach. "Bullshit!"
"That's all people ever notice about you. That cane you tap around, how your eyes stare and how you grope around to find something two inches from your nose. It's pathetic."
Tonk tried to swallow, but his throat clutched tight. Fatigue took a back seat to the new tension rippling up his spine. Piccolo's words drilled painfully through his consciousness and fell into a well of anger he always kept under a lid of tolerance.
His heart throbbed faster. Blood roared in his ears. Veins pulsed on his forehead.
"So, what are you trying to say, Piccolo?" he asked softly.
The smirk on Piccolo's face showed in his voice, "Just that, everywhere you go, everybody's going to remember you as 'the blind green guy'."
Tonk allowed himself a deep breath, forcing the lid of tolerance to slip off rather than explode to send rage everywhere.
"Piccolo?" he spoke in a voice an octave lower than usual.
The other Namek grunted in reply.
Ki crackled around Tonk's frame. He blew Piccolo clean off his back and stood up, glaring towards the sound of impact. The Announcer shouted something about the energy wave, but Tonkeshin didn't listen.
"Being blind is part of who I am, but it's not me. If that's all you notice, then you see even less than I do."
No answer from Piccolo.
A cool breeze flitted across his skin, cooling the sweat on his brow and toying with the ends of his vest. It did little to ease the burning anger crawling under his skin.
Of all the things Tonk hated in the universe, pity topped his list.
"Come on, Piccolo. I know you're not hurt."
Silence.
He growled, "Get over here! I'll show you exactly why nobody needs to pity me!"
Haymaker out of nowhere. Tonk hit the floor hard, snarled and flipped to his feet. Every sense stood on edge. He strained his ears and - there!
"Found you." he dropped and swept Piccolo's legs.
Piccolo jumped.
Tonkeshin smiled inwardly. He jammed his shoulder into the ground mid-spin to force more momentum, rolling from shoulder to upper back to the other shoulder. Then he pushed his hips upwards, gaining speed. His long legs kicked up like a breakdancer's.
And Piccolo landed right in the middle of his rotating feet. The effect was similar to throwing rocks in a blender.
"Oofoofoof!"
Tonk sandwiched Piccolo's head between his ankles and flung him against the stone floor. The stone crumbled on impact. Rock fragments stung his knees and shins. But, as much as that hurt, Piccolo had to be hurting worse.
He sat up, panting and rubbing his scraped shoulders. Off to the left, he could hear Piccolo's clothes sliding as he moved around.
"If Nail pitied me, he wouldn't have taken me as a student."
A snide chuckle. "You're right."
"They seem to be catching their breath." shouted the Announcer with glee, "That was AMAZING! Makes me miss high school!"
Curling his lip, Tonk kipped up. "You wanted me mad, I'm mad. Now get up."
"Gladly."
Next thing Tonk knew, Piccolo was above him. He felt a ripple of ki, gasped and jumped backwards. A ki blast scorched the floor inches from his toes.
He spun and flung one at Piccolo's ki signature. The other Namek dodged.
Sound shadow on the left. The breeze of a kick!
Tonk caught Piccolo's extended leg, but Piccolo continued around. He let go of the leg to block the other one.
A cheer from the audience. Too close!
He ran a quick mental calculation. Two more steps and he'd fall out.
Another kick.
Tonk's feet scraped the ring's edge. He lunged forward, slamming himself and Piccolo back towards the center.
"I'm not an idiot, I know where the edges are by listening to the crowd."
"Good," came the cool reply, "then I know you won't fall out like a disappointing sissy."
They locked again in a flurry of punches and kicks. The Announcer kept the audience abreast of their too-fast-to-really-follow actions.
Enough of this, Tonkeshin growled. Flinging Piccolo off his back, he squared his stance and called on the ki deep in his soul. He reached down into the boiling pot of rage and tapped into power he never knew existed.
Piccolo landed six feet away. He panted, growled and began gathering ki of his own.
It was a race between who could power up first.
I started first. . .that may give me an advantage. He powers up faster than I do. Tonk reassured himself with a nod, his face tight and determined.
"There's a lot of energy flowing here!" cried the Announcer. The wind roared across his microphone.
He smirked, I guess it's true, only avid ki users can actually see auras. The audience must think we're glaring at each other while a lot of wind blows around. Heh, humans are funny.
"Get ready, Tonkeshin," said Piccolo, his voice strained with effort, "this is your moment."
"Don't patronize me, Piccolo," growled Tonk. He pulled harder on his ki stores, feeling the heat ooze off his body in waves. The wind was really just a bunch of electromagnetic waves blasting off his aura like a solar wind. It just had more density than the solar wind - hence nasty side effects like craters and cars impaled in buildings.
Hold on, if he's taking on a positive charge. . .
"Masenko - " Piccolo began.
. . .then I'll take a positive and it'll blast him right out of the ring!
Tonk inverted his hands, forcing his energy across an altered path, and let loose.
"HAAA!"
Time ceased to exist. Tonkeshin remained frozen in his masenko posture. All his prayers rested on the blazing energy ball whizzing towards Piccolo's expelled ki signature.
He didn't have to wait long.
Both masenko blasts slammed together with deafening force. Each quivering like twin magnets of the same polarity trying to repel each other.
I gotta be careful. If I let go, this thing will bounce off Piccolo's and come right back at me.
Backlash nearly ripped Tonk off his feet. He dug his toes into a crack in the fighting floor and fought to stay his course. Piccolo pushed back. The energy threatened to rip his shoulders from their sockets. His muscles burned.
People in the audience started screaming. Food wrappers, hats, anything loose went flying.
"It's another energy struggle! Parts of the ring are breaking up! Cover your heads, folks, this is dangerous!"
Piccolo's ki wavered.
Tonk pushed against it.
Piccolo shoved back.
Growling, Tonk forced the tug of war into the ring's center. His shoulders screamed in agony. Pain raced up his legs. The ki he released reached a peak so high it nearly penetrated the nothingness surrounding his world.
Quakes shook the arena. More people screamed. The floor sagged under Tonk's feet.
His soles scraped the shattered stone. He sensed Piccolo sliding too.
Suddenly, a huge backlash wave blasted Tonk airborne. He flipped end over end, struggling to distinguish up from down. Vertigo distorted his senses.
THUD!
Tonk landed flat on his back, wide eyed and panting. Imaginary gongs rang in his ears. His head buzzed.
Something tickled his ear.
Grass? There's no grass in -
Reality crystallized.
Tonkeshin lay there, horrified with the realization that he just landed outside the ring. He'd lost. He'd lost.
"WOW! This is a first for the World Martial Arts Tournament! Both of our combatants have landed outside the ring at the SAME TIME!"
What!
The Announcer cried out, "I've just been informed that, due to both competitors having a ring-out, neither are qualified to continue to the next round. This match is a draw! How about that! What a FIGHT!"
Cheers surrounded the fighting ring.
"Hey."
Tonk turned towards the low voice, "Nice blast, Piccolo."
"Feh."
"Tonk! Tonk!" Heavy feet thudded in the grass. "Tonk, how many fingers am I holding up?"
"Greg?" he reached out, felt the coarse, beefy fingers waving in front of his face and smirked, "forty two."
Greg laughed and hauled him upright, "He's fine."
Wobbling from dizziness, Tonk punched his human friend in the shoulder. Then his world faded.
". . .slight concussion. He'll be fine."
Scents of disinfectant. Iodine and alcohol.
Greg's echoing reply, "And the big guy?"
A chirping female voice, "Up and about already."
Tonkeshin touched his forehead and groaned. His fingers encountered a rough gauze pad taped just above his aching antenna. He blinked and ran a hand over his face and neck. Each painful spot told him where he was either bruised or cut.
Wow, not as bad as I thought I'd be.
He closed his eyes to concentrate. His wounds closed and the bruises faded. Except for being sore, he was pretty much all right.
Sounds from outside muffled. A body blocked the door. Tonk turned towards it, wary. "Who's there?"
"Me," came Piccolo's gruff reply.
His face lit up. He peeled the gauze off his forehead. "Hey! Are you okay? Did you get knocked out too?"
Piccolo walked forward, bringing his scent and voice closer, "Only for a minute."
To Tonk's chagrin, Piccolo hadn't showered before coming into the room. Nice guy, but smelly when he perspired. Right as he thought of that, he realized he probably needed to take a shower himself.
"Man," he stretched, "I could use a hot shower right about now. How about you?"
"Feh." Piccolo snorted, "I guess I better. I certainly won't sweat this mud off."
"Mud?"
"You blasted me into a mud puddle."
Tonk covered a smile with both hands. So that was why he smelled a little more earthy than usual. "Sorry."
No, he wasn't really that sorry.
"Tch, c'mon. Grab your cane off the table."
He felt around, found the table and spider walked his fingers until he located his smooth cane. Smiling, he let gravity unfold it. The cane seemed to cast a spell that turned all chaos into order.
"Okay, I'm right behind you."
Upon rising, he felt his antennae tap against something above his bed. He ducked and raised a hand to see what almost took his head off. Who the heck would put a shelf there?
"Heh, guess those things have some use after all."
"I know, but I don't do radios."
"Feh." Piccolo cracked his knuckles and slipped out.
"Hey! Tonk!" Called Greg from down the hall. A nurse tried to hush him, but he continued, "You overgrown booger, you shouldn't be up! What are you doing!"
With an ear on Piccolo's progress, Tonk slowed his pace. "Beefcake, I'm fine. I'm just going to go clean up."
"Butthead." Greg caught his arm to halt his progress, "I'm going to go watch the rest of the Tournament. My seat got trashed, so me and those other green guys - "
"Dende and Lians," he corrected him.
"Yeah, them, I'll be sitting up there. Don't get lost and make me send a search party."
"Nah, send the strippers." Tonk gave Greg a light shove, "That way I can follow the trail of lacy bras and g-strings."
"BAH!" A beefy hand clapped his shoulder. "And you call me a pervert."
"Because you are."
Both laughed.
Greg hustled to feed change into a vending machine. Tonk took a few skipping steps to catch up with Piccolo.
"Sorry, Greg just wanted to tell me where he's going," he said as they passed through the locker room and slipped into steamy, humid air.
His cane detected smooth tile and a wall. The bathroom split two ways. A shower hissed on the right. Turning that way, he tapped his way towards the curtain.
"Phew, I really reek."
"I generally don't notice my own smells." Piccolo muttered. Water slapped loudly on his skin and splattered all over the floor. He hadn't even bothered to pull the shower curtain around.
Tonk shrugged, folded his cane, stripped naked and turned on the spigot right next to Piccolo's. "Heh, no wonder you don't realize you stink when you sweat."
"I said I don't notice my own smells," said Piccolo. "The soap is -"
"Piccolo. . .it's okay. I can smell where the soap is. I hate it when people try to be over protective," he smiled brightly and lathered himself up. "but thanks anyway."
Silence.
"Something wrong?"
"You just grabbed my soap." There was a smirk in his voice.
Laughing, Tonk held it up to him, one eye winked shut, "Didn't say I was perfect."
He felt Piccolo's fingers brush his as he took the smooth soap off his palm.
"Nobody is," Piccolo shifted, coating himself in pine-scented suds. He paused to wash his face. "but you're capable of a lot more than I expected. Nail trained you well, Tonkeshin."
Tonk found his own soap just as Piccolo's shower cut off. He washed behind his ears, under his arms and all around his chest. After a quick rinse, he finished, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked carefully across the wet tiles, trailing the wall with his cane and free hand to find his locker.
Realizing the locker room was empty, Tonk whipped the towel off to dry his head. "Still in here?"
"Yeah." on the far right. "I'm already dressed."
Tonk wasn't embarrassed by the revelation. Piccolo probably didn't have any genitals either, so it wasn't like Tonk's lacking them would shock him. He did, however, feel the other's eyes watch him locate his locker door, open it and paw around for his clothes and some deodorant.
Good old Sure.
He dressed himself in his usual jeans and T-shirt. "Didn't we have a deal?"
"I remember it." His locker creaked as Piccolo leaned on the door. "But neither of us won."
"I think it was a tie." Tonkeshin smiled. He popped his belongings into a capsule that he placed in his pocket and reached for his cane. "So I guess we both have to keep up our ends."
"Mm. I have never tasted a, what did you call it - "
"Smoothie."
"- smoothie, before."
Tonk's smile grew. As his cane unfolded, he said, "Trust me, they're great."
"I suppose I can trust you," Piccolo sounded dryly amused. "We should go before intermission starts, or we may never get out of here without reporters jumping down our throats."
They stepped outside together, Tonk using Piccolo's padding footsteps as a directional guide.
Ki sparkled to life on the right. Small at first, then huge upon approach. Obnoxiously high. Tonkeshin wrinkled his nose, he knew that ki and faced its source when it stopped beside him.
"What do you want, Vegeta?"
"Nothing," said the arrogant Saiyajin, "You fight pretty good. . .for a blind guy."
Tonk snorted at his sarcasm. "Don't expect my attitude towards you to change just because of what I heard about you."
Vegeta's smooth tenor voice reeked of egotism, "I don't have time for you anyway."
And Tonk bristled, "You ARROGANT little -"
"Guys, come on." Piccolo stepped between them, growling a bit himself. "Don't start this crap again."
"Hmph. Fine." said Vegeta. He turned away, chuckled and walked back towards the main arena. His ki stopped flaring, thus saving Tonk's head from the obnoxious buzzing. "See you in three years, blind bean."
"I won't see you, but I'll smell your rotten Saiyajin blood! You hear me! I still remember what you did!"
"Tonkeshin, he's gone. Let it go."
He boiled in silence, but the high of the Tournament quickly cooled his temper. I shouldn't let an idiot like Vegeta ruin my day. Besides, I can always get a rematch in three more years. Maybe I'll get lucky and win!
"So. . .how many flavors are there in a smoothie?"
"Huh?" He started walking with Piccolo again, his cane tapping on the sidewalk. "Well, there's my favorite - virgin tropical, but there's mango, mocha, watermelon. . ."
Tonk was still naming off smoothie flavors when they exited the Tournament grounds.
"Wow, are you sure?"
"Tonkeshin, she said it's free. Enjoy it while you can."
Tonk shoved his wallet back into its proper pocket. He heard himself thanking the waitress and pressed his palms to the cool smoothie glass. All around, people were talking about him, Piccolo and the Tournament.
Mr. Satan won, naturally, and pumped up his public image by donating his winnings to a children's hospital in West City.
Smiling, Tonk wrapped his lips around the straw and slurped. Delicious fruity flavors rolled over his tongue. He heard Piccolo do the same.
"Hm," Piccolo's lips smacked together, "this isn't half bad, Tonkeshin."
He slurped on his own, draining a fourth of the glass in one go. Something about the cold thickness drove away his cares about the day. All that mattered was the taste. "I told you, they're good."
A sigh from Piccolo. He sighed a lot, Tonk realized. Then he heard gulping and the clunk of a glass settling on the table. Piccolo just chugged his smoothie!
He heard him slap a palm over his forehead. "Ow. . .my head. . ."
"You're supposed to sip it and enjoy the taste," Tonk pointed out, chuckling. "Otherwise, you'll get brain freeze."
Piccolo shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the crowd of people eating and laughing around them. He let go of his head and rapped on the glass tabletop. "Old habits die hard, I guess."
With a smile, Tonk shook his head and sipped from his straw. "Guess so. Want to get out of here? You sound antsy."
"Hmph." Coins clattered onto the table. "Your human friend is consuming too much alcohol."
"He's a big boy. It takes a lot to get him drunk."
"Fine."
Piccolo stood up and walked away. Tonk rushed after him, barely dodging other people and chairs sitting in his path. He stumbled outside into the balmy evening air. The ocean hissed and sizzled a short distance away, but he didn't take time to smell the yummy sea foam aroma.
Cloth flapped ahead. Tonk followed the sound.
"I'm not a fan of crowds," Piccolo said by way of apology.
"It's fine. I understand." he said, flipping his cane into the pencil grip. "What do you look like?"
"What do I - oh. . ." the other fell silent for a long time. Many swishes of surf passed before his answer came, "Dende says I look just like Nail. I'd assume you know what he looked like."
"Yes, I've felt Nail's face before."
"Good. Now for my end of the deal," Piccolo faced him, "I found Nail after Freeza attacked him."
Weight settled on Tonk's heart. He swallowed hard, remembering how bad Nail sounded the last time they spoke.
"Nail was mortally wounded, probably a few minutes from dying, when I found him. He told me he'd seen Freeza's power and that my power alone wasn't enough to do battle. He said if we combined our powers together, we'd have a chance." Piccolo lowered his tone, "So we fused, and he's been a part of me ever since."
"Was. . ." Tonk leaned forward, ". . .was he still alive when you merged?"
"Yes." answered a rough tenor voice. "I'm still alive."
Tonkeshin felt his cane slip through boneless fingers. A lump formed in his throat. He stared blankly ahead, wide eyed, tears pooling against his lower eyelids.
"Nail," he reached out. The other Namek didn't move. Tonk's shaking fingers encountered a familiar, strong chin, tilted eyes and soft lips. The cheekbones were sharper than the ones he remembered, a harsh reminder that Nail no longer existed as he knew him.
Yet it didn't matter when Nail smiled through Piccolo's lips. "You made me proud today."
Tears streamed down Tonk's cheeks. He bit his lower lip, "I didn't win. It was a draw."
"I know, I can see what Piccolo sees." Nail still smiled, "Winning or losing doesn't matter, Tonkeshin, it's how well you fought that counts. And you fought very well."
He let his fingers slide off Nail's face and gripped the front of his shirt.
Nail chuckled softly. Tonk was drawn close and pressed to his chest. It didn't feel or smell like Nail, but that didn't matter. "It's also okay to cry if you need to. I have yet to teach Piccolo that, so you have one up on him there."
Tonk laughed and sobbed at the same time. "When I couldn't find you after the Earthers wished us back, I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
"It's all right now. But you don't need my help anymore. I taught you everything I know, and you've done pretty good on your own here."
Somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out.
Tonk leaned back and looked up towards the other Namek's face. His eyes were puffy from the tears still trickling down his cheeks. "That doesn't mean I don't need you anymore! Isn't there a way to get your own body back?"
Nail audibly shook his head, "This was a one time deal."
Sighing, Tonk swiped at the moisture on his face. He hated it when other people saw him cry no matter what the reason. "So this is goodbye. . ."
"No. It's silly to say goodbye to someone that isn't gone."
"You're right," he chuckled, his smile emerging like warmth after a cold storm, "so you'll still be around, in Piccolo?"
"As long as he lives."
That set Tonk's heart at ease.
"For the record," Nail squeezed his shoulder, "I hardly ever noticed you were blind until you walked into a closed door or fell off a cliff -"
"Argh!" Tonk's face lit on fire. "Not the cliff! I was hoping you'd forget that."
"Ah," a laugh, "I can still see you wandering away without your cane and walking right off the edge while bragging about your excellent sense of direction."
"That was embarrassing." he groaned, "I hate cliffs. Good thing I hit water, huh?"
"Good thing I knew how to swim."
They both chuckled.
"Ahh, Piccolo wants control again." Nail cleared his throat, "I can't keep pushing him back forever."
Nodding slowly, Tonk closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Don't be a stranger, okay?"
"You won't always know I'm there, but I'll check up on you once in awhile."
"Thanks, Nail." He felt another tear get away, "for everything."
"You're welcome."
Both fell silent. Tonk kept clutching "Nail's" shirt, his ears flooded with the roaring ocean six feet away. It hissed and sizzled as if alive, yet everything else stood perfectly still. Frozen in time.
Piccolo loudly cleared his throat, startling Tonkeshin from his reverie. "You can let go now."
Smiling sheepishly, Tonk released Piccolo's baggy shirt.
"Here," Piccolo handed him his cane, "I should be going now. Nice meeting you, Tonkeshin. I enjoyed our fight."
Still shaken, Tonk accepted his cane in numb fingers. "Me, too. And I think you're pretty cool, Piccolo. Look me up if you want another smoothie."
"I'll keep that in mind." Piccolo pulled his cape around his body. It swished twice. Then his energy signal zoomed straight west and disappeared, leaving Tonk alone on the beach.
"Bye. . ." he whispered to the horizon.
Suddenly, a piece of shrimp slapped into the back of his head. It slid down under his shirt, trailing freezing cold sauce. He "gah'ed" and danced around, trying to shake it out.
A brave seagull landed on his head and snatched the shrimp out of his shirt. The bird's cold, wet feet shifted as it turned around and decided to sit down on his head.
Greg's laughter echoed over the beach. Somebody took a photo.
"GREG!" Tonk's eyes crossed when he felt seagull droppings splatter on the back of his neck. He batted the buzzard off his head and used the surf to clean off. "Argh! This thing crapped on me!"
"It what!" The chubby human burst into hysterics. "AHAHA! Guess it liked you. Here, have more!"
"No, I don't - "
Splat!
Another shrimp hit Tonk between the eyes and slid coldly down the slope of his nose. He caught it, sniffed it once and popped it into his mouth. Might as well eat it before the gull decided to use his head as a perch again. He almost gagged on the slimy texture, which brought back the very wet memory of Carol's martini kiss.
"Ready to chase those bras, Tonk?" Greg called from the cafe door. Tonk could tell he was a little drunk by his obnoxious tone.
"Are you ready to eat a bucket of shrimp whole?" He tapped towards his human friend, grinning wickedly. "C'mere, let's see how many I can fit - "
"Hell no!" he slammed the door.
Tonk pulled the door back open, laughing, "You better run!"
"Boy," Lians called from the bar, his gruff voice obvious above the rest. The next time he spoke, he was at the door beside him, "your friend drank four beers and a wine cooler. I think he is out of sorts."
"How do you do that, Lians?" Dende materialized out of nowhere.
"I can smell, that's how," the elder replied. Sake hung on his breath, but he wasn't the least bit drunk. Unlike most of the humans making fools of themselves around the eatery part of the cafe, he seemed to know when he'd had enough.
Somebody sang on the kareoke machine. Whoever they were, they needed voice lessons. Tonk cringed at the high notes. "Who IS that up there?"
It was Dende's turn to act sheepish. "That's. . .Krillin. He's drunk. . .and Eighteen is dragging him offstage right now."
Lians huffed. "The others have gone ahead."
"Aw, I wanted to say 'bye' to Gohan and Pan." Tonk frowned, "That little girl is so cute.."
"Indeed."
"Well, I shouldn't mope. I'll see them again someday." Laughing, Tonk brushed past them. His cane bumped into the potted plant by the door. The bar was quiet, probably close to closing for the night. "Come on, let's all have another smoothie before they kick us out."
"You silly children can have a smoothie if you like." said Lians. He gave a watery laugh as he planted himself on a barstool that creaked under his weight, "I will partake of one more sake bowl."
"You know what?" Easing himself onto a stool next to Lians, Tonk raised a finger, "Make that two sake bowls."
"Gods, you two!"
"Oh, come on, Dende! Just one?"
"It'll put muscle in your chest, boy, and you could use a little muscle." Lians rapped his long, sharp nails on the bartop and barked, "Barkeep?"
Earth's Guardian sounded a bit reluctant. "Mm, fine, I guess I'm old enough for one. But only one."
"That's more like it!"
"Correction," Tonk raised his hand again, grinning at the flustered bartender. "make that three sake bowls!"
"Ooh, liquor hates me," moaned Tonkeshin. His Namekian brogue, which he couldn't suppress while drunk, leaked into his voice. He spoke with as thick an accent as the blind elder sitting beside him.
"Boy, you need to work up your tolerance," Lians caught Tonk when his knees buckled. "You're not swinging your cane properly."
"Both of us," Dende staggered alongside them, mumbling, "guh, I think I'm gonna be sick!"
Lians just laughed while poor Dende threw up in the potted plant by the door. Tonk wrinkled his nose at the smell of bile.
"Lians, you're terrible! You did this on purpose, didn't you?"
The elder Namek huffed in mock indignance, "How else are you supposed to celebrate a battle well fought? Ahh. . .this makes me miss the old brew we used to make on Namek. . ."
Tonk ran nose first into a wall. He could've sworn a door existed there two minutes ago. Gah, I forgot my swing. His hand wandered until he found the handle and pushed it open. Sea air greeted him, clearing his senses enough to tell up from down.
"Oh, crap," Greg jogged up to them, "you got both of them drunk?"
Lians just chuckled. His wooden cane slid against the rough cement walkway outside the cafe. "Tonkeshin never could hold liquor to save his life. Dende hasn't tasted it before tonight. It isn't my fault they can't handle it. It was, after all, their decision to partake of the bottle."
"One BOWL full, not the bottle." Tonk cut in, laughing. He could smell the sake on his own breath. "Oh boy, I think I'm gonna fall now." And he toppled backwards, his feet sticking straight up in the air.
"Good idea."
THUD!
Dende joined him a second later.
"Um, Lians?" Greg hedged, "Can I borrow your stick? I've always wanted to poke Tonk with a stick."
"Tch, get your own stick, boy."
Tonk felt Lians wrap a strong, wrinkled hand around his arm and haul him up.
"M'awake, I swear!"
"Good, put your hand on your friend's shoulder and he'll lead you to your sleeping area." the hand let go. Tonk cocked his head at the elder's words. Lians went on, "I must take Dende somewhere to rest. We'll return to the Lookout in the morning."
"Soooo. . .this is goodbye for a little while?"
"This won't be the last time we meet, Tonkeshin."
"No," said Greg, all humor gone from his voice, "but it better be the last time you get Tonk drunk. You know that's not good for him."
"Button it," Lians groused, "he can handle a little drink. But your concern is accepted. Next time," he clicked his fangs, "I'll make it two."
Greg finally got Lians' sarcastic humor. He wrapped his arm more tightly around Tonk's waist and laughed. "And I'll make sure you chug a whole bottle just to see if that wastes you, old man!"
"Bah! It takes four bottles before I feel anything!"
"Gweh," Dende moaned, "Pleeeaaaaase stop yellin', my head is ringin'! Ow."
"I wasn't yellin'," Tonk snickered. Suddenly, everything seemed utterly hilarious. Greg's voice, Lians' proclamation, Dende's groaning. . .even the sound of the ocean made him giggle like he heard a whoopie cushion go off during a high school exam.
"Here come the giggles. I better get him back to the hotel."
"Hey, heheh, Lians," he snorted really loud, making himself laugh harder. Any attempt at being serious went flying out the window. "It was nice to see you again. Come back soon, BWAHAHAHA, okay? Please?"
"It's a promise." Lians turned away, "Come morning, I will be gone. The wish was to allow me one day here on Earth. At sunrise I will be transported back to Namek." A smile showed in his tone, "And THAT, boy, is why I made you drink. So you won't be upset with me. Now go with your friend and rest for tonight. You did yourself proud. Remember that."
"Aw, Lians," he snorted again, this time causing Greg to break up. "Thanks a lot for comin'."
"Anytime." the elder hauled Dende to his feet. Dende mumbled something resembling a farewell. Then Lians' tapping cane faded onto the sand. Knowing him, he probably dropped Dende in the freezing surf to wake him up.
Vertigo made a nasty return trip.
"Riding the merry go round from Hell yet?"
"I never got off," mumbled Tonk, "help me to the hotel room, okay? And please don't write on the back of my head after I'm asleep like last time!"
"You know me, I'd never do a thing like that."
"Exactly." he followed Greg when he started walking off the beach. "If I wake up wearin' your underwear on my head, you'll be eatin' 'em for lunch."
"Trust me."
That was the last thing he remembered.
When Tonk woke up the next morning, tired and hungover, he discovered Greg had rearranged every piece of furniture in the hotel room. He banged into a chair, tripped into the nightstand and fell headfirst over his suitcase. Somehow, in his disorientation, he found his cane slung over the coat rack placed right in front of the toilet.
"Greg, you are so dead," he moaned to himself. "Or you will be as soon as I brush my teeth. . ."
Tonk got Greg back by replacing all of his underwear with cheap thongs. He used the camera phone to take a picture of himself throwing a pair of boxers out the window.
Greg found the thongs first, then the picture. He grudgingly agreed to fix the room. They both had a good laugh about it.
And Tonk stole just enough extra time to shower before he had to prepare for the flight back to Satan City.
"Goooooooood morning Satan City! This is Kreemin Shooger at SC one - zero - three - point - five! The time is seven-thirty. Today we have hazy skies with lows in the mid sixties and a high of ninety two. Currently, downtown Satan City is reporting in at seventy-three degrees. I'll be back with your traffic report - "
A hand searched the nightstand, found the clock and switched off the alarm. Sheets rustled in protest as a sleepy figure stirred from underneath.
Tonkeshin yawned, dropped to the floor and did ten quick push ups to shake off his grogginess. He'd set his clock to play the radio by mistake, again. Ah well, he kind of liked it that way.
He went through his usual morning routine of a hot shower, dressing in a clean suit, brushing his teeth and taking a quick breakfast sip of water. Then it was off to face his ordinary life all over again.
The walk to work proved a peaceful one. He smiled at the people who recognized him.
His favorite part?
They didn't recognize him because of his cane. They recognized him because 'he was the underdog green man that kicked butt at the Tournament'.
It was the recognition he wanted. By the time he reached his workplace, he felt higher than a kite.
Tonk pressed a hand to the cool door leading into the office. Suspicious silence greeted him when he slid inside.
"Hello?" He tapped around, listening for echoes, "Uh. . .we are working today, aren't we?"
The entire place erupted into applause.
He stared ahead, stunned. Then his face burned. Smiling, he ducked his head, "Aw geez, you got me!"
A hand more meaty than Greg's clapped Tonk across the back. Tonk jumped and turned towards its owner, "Mr. Latte?"
"Naturally," came the hearty southern reply, "Kreemin and I saw you on TV, and the Tournament directors let us broadcast audio from the Tournament. You were great! You got us publicity!" Mr. Latte tucked a cigar into Tonk's jacket pocket. "I think, just for that, you deserve a little raise."
Tonk gulped, afraid to mention that he didn't smoke. "R-really?"
"Two hundred more bucks, Tonk!" Greg called from his cubicle.
"TWO hundred? Are you sure?"
Another arm materialized out of nowhere. This one smelled of vanilla hand cream, "You're a lucky guy, Tonk."
"Carol," He blushed and, for lack of anything better to say, stammered, "Umm, ah. . .I'm late for work."
The whole office laughed. Realizing how silly he sounded, Tonk chortled right along with them. Then he folded his cane and made a hasty retreat for his desk. Somebody put balloons all over his cubicle, most of which he found with his nose.
Everybody in the office had fun batting the balloons back and forth. Then Mr. Latte caught them red handed and ordered them to save it for break time.
As he placed his hands on his keyboard, Tonk sensed a ki landing on the movie theater rooftop across the street. He turned towards the open window. The breeze blew on his face, carrying with it the smallest hint of desert dust.
His phone rang, reminding him that, despite what he'd learned about himself, his everyday life was still the same. He faced his computer screen, smiled and took the call.
"Hi, this is SC one - zero - three - point - five. My name is Tonkeshin. How can I help you?"
THE END
(Unmei no Hi - Tamashi Vs. Tamashi aka Spirit Vs. Spirit starts
playing here.)
VOICES IN MY HEAD:
Tonkeshin - Richard Hayworth
Greg Coffee - John Candy
Lians - Ed Asner
Carol Folgers - Lucy Lawless
Mr. Latte - John Goodman
Kreemin Shooger - Brent Spiner
and
Vegeta - Brian Drummond
Piccolo - Scott McNeil
Author's note: Yes! Here it is! The conclusion of my baby. I'm actually a little sad to see it end, but all stories must conclude at some time.
Now, before you throw things at me, please let me apologize for my absence. I got a job and I haven't had time to write like I used to. I was going to end this chapter at the end of the Tournament, but feared I wouldn't have time to write again for a long while. So I wrote the ending as one long chapter.
I didn't rush this just to finish the story and get it out of my way. This is the ending I planned for since the start, it's just all wrapped up in one chapter instead of two 0sheepish Tonkeshin grin0. I hope the long chapter(and having two naked Nameks at once for you ladies! 0wink0) makes up for my being MIA for a year. I'm REALLY sorry I took so long. But look! It's just in time for Tonk's second birthday! So there's a bright side to this, right? Did I make it worth the wait?
Thanks to everyone who read this all the way through! I love you all for your reviews, encouragement and humor. It's been fun, and hey. . .maybe I'll write another one someday in the future!
Buh-bye for now!
(Solid State Scouter plays here!)