Akira's Anime Fan Archive
The Warrior of Destiny: Chapter 2

Fight for the Squad

Chapter II
 
 
 Akira turned off the alarm clock a few minutes before it was due to wake him. However, since the dream, he had not slept, but nearly hallucinated, staring at the ceiling with a whirlwind of thoughts, and dreams. His eyes always open, he looked upwards, not concentrating on the spot where he was staring, but not realizing the ceiling was there. Akira was watching the skies. He saw the moon lower into the clouds, and the sunrise over the Earth, his heart, and his life.
 Akira was not dressed. He still wore his sleeveless vest, and (extremely tacky) yellow boxer shorts. He didn't care about the clothes he wore, as long as they fit him. He had learnt this attitude at the orphanage, where nothing was ever in style, and clothing was often too big, or too small. Still, high school wasn't the orphanage, and things had to be in style. Akira grimaced at the thought of the orphanage.
 "Come on Akira, your past that stage now." He whispered to himself. He was right. Akira had left the orphanage a stronger, and more focused person. He hoped that the orphanage had prepared him for life, but to no avail. To be locked away from the world, unloved, not cared for, shut away in a building to wait for someone doing a good deed to take you, or wait for adult hood, and face the world alone, was not the way to prepare for life.
 Akira took the clothes out of his wardrobe. They were quite old, and he hoped to receive some new ones soon. The wardrobe was one of the only pieces of furniture in the room. Only a bed, and a bedside cabinet filled the rest of the room. He had no posters, or pictures on his wall. He liked them blank. Akira did not appreciate role models. He had learnt that from the orphanage. Your main role models had abandoned you, and didn't give a damn.
 Akira got dressed. He then removed his jujitsu GI from the wardrobe. "This I for me, this is for my destiny." he thought as he put the GI in his rucksack. He was excited, but just curious. How was he going to fit in? This was a completely new experience for him. Akira had to deal with this, and hopefully, he was going to be all right. Putting thoughts of excitement, or nervousness out of his mind, he grabbed his rucksack, and headed downstairs for breakfast.

* * *
 
 Downstairs, his adopted mother stood at the kitchen worktop, preparing breakfast. The round wooden breakfast table inside the kitchen space was where his father sat. His thick-framed glasses hung on his nose, and his business newspaper lay on the table, open at page three with the main in-depth story.
 Akira sat down. His adopted mother liked to experiment with different cultures, and today it was the western world. A bowl of cornflakes, slowly going soggy in a bowl of milk sat in front of him. To the side of that was a glass of pure orange juice. He stirred his breakfast with his spoon. Mixed emotions of nervousness, and the floating soggy bits of cornflake had made him feel sick. His adopted father looked at him, noticing his newly found son with uneasiness on his first day of school. Although he wasn't normally talkative, he might as well make an effort with his new son. "It's worth a try." He thought, while looking at Akira with happiness.
 Akira wasn't stupid. He knew that his new father was looking at him. Akira was not scared of him, but was always wary. Since the orphanage, he didn't naturally trust men; it was the women that were more forthcoming. Akira was mentally preparing himself for the unknown questions which would escape from this mans mouth.
 "Are you OK son? You seem a little tense." Akira's dad asked. "Of course I'm tense, you little idiot! And, I'm not your son. I'm Akira, and who the hell are you!" Akira thought in anger. "Who does this guy think he is?" However, Akira knew he had to make the best of his new dad's kindness.
 "I'm fine. I'm just not hungry. That's all." He replied, gritting his teeth, and trying not to sound patronizing. His adopted father just looked at Akira, pride glistening in his eyes, as momentary silence passed through the household.
 "Well, Akira, I know you are probably nervous about going into school today, but I have a feeling that something amazing is going to come out of it. It's as if your destiny is being put in your path. With power comes great responsibility. Always be responsible. More importantly, always be happy." Akira sat with his jaw ajar with shock. "What the hell is he talking about? I hope he is right though. All that power stuff sounds interesting!" Akira thought to himself. He looked back at his adopted father. He had now resigned himself back to his newspaper, and didn't acknowledge anyone in the room once again. With this, Akira left the table, picking up his rucksack, which was lying by the side of the table. His bowl of now completely soggy cereal sat untouched on the kitchen table, and as he left the door, his adopted mother shouted after him in anger, her newfound culture not appreciated.
 
* * *
 
 Akira left the math room, his head swimming with symbols of algebra. He cleared this information from his brain, and headed for the gym. He rushed, thought there was no need for it. He had plenty of time, and the gym wasn't that far away. Akira just wanted to get there so he was guaranteed a tryout for the Comet Squad. This was his only goal of the day, apart from this, he would let everything else fall into place.
 Akira arrived at the gymnasium area, as the school board liked to call it. A long corridor led to the gym, on the left side was a door, where the boys changed. Opposite this was the girls changing rooms. A little further up was the instructors' room, which split into two, and the respective gym teachers kept their equipment. Along the walls where charts, showing the achievements of the athletics department, and especially the Comet Squad's numerous championships, which where displayed in the trophy cabinet in the reception area. Right next to the large wooden double doors that led to the gym hung a board with sheets of paper rippling in the breeze given by the doors leading from the yard. On a piece of string tied to the board was a pen. This was Akira's first objective.
 He approached the board with caution, viewing it to see if anyone had signed up yet. Fortunately for him, the first sheet was only half covered. So, Akira found a new confidence in himself, and picked up the pen, writing his name clearly on the board. When he saw his name up on that board, he was ecstatic. He ran away from the gym, happily smiling, though yet without a friend.
 In the darkness, a boy Akira's age watched the new boy gleefully running back inside. He felt a strong urge from his father.
 "He is the one the Earth needs. Find out his strengths, and bring him to the Roshi's. You can do it. He has a strong will, and even stronger powers. Train him. He is the Warrior of Destiny." was the message the boy received. The boy didn't know Akira, but if his father says so, he must be the one.
 
* * *
 
 The digital timer beeped on Akira's watch to tell him that he should be in the gym getting changed for his 'audition'.  However, he didn't expect to be held behind, as the teacher put it, to ensure his first day had gone smoothly. He now rushed to the gym, his rucksack slowing him down, full of textbooks. Across the yard Akira ran, ignoring pupils who hung around, doing what needed to be done before they returned home. Akira didn't care; only one thing occupied his mind.
 He entered the small hallway that he had only stood in a matter of hours ago. The door to the male changing room was open, and empty. So were the girls, and various items of clothing could be seen from where he stood. "There must be something to occupy the girls as well." Akira thought to himself. His focus returned to the male changing room, and he entered, nervous and confident emotions rolled into one.
 The changing room was now empty. Two benches were almost touching in the center, divided by a large metal rack that was used to hang coats and bags on. He put his bag down on the benches, and slowly removed his jujitsu GI. It's crisp folding showing the center cross upward. He also removed his black belt. A number of red stripes where sown onto the belt. This was showing his Dan. His belt had four red stripes. This was high enough for the majority of most opponents to be cowering in fear. Oh if only he knew what was behind the double doors that led to the gymnasium hall.
 Akira undressed, and put on his GI, aligning the cross over with the center of his chest. He unfolded his belt, letting it dangle to the floor. He brought it around him, four times in total. "Right over left." He thought to himself as he went to tie it. His face grimaced as he tied it. "It's a little tight." He thought, "Oh, well, it won't effect me much." He left the gym silent footed, to enter the hall.
 Akira swung open the door to the gym. This ancient style room was flooded with warm sunlight. Outside the glass wall, snow capped mountains could be seen. Wooded beams supported the walls, and boys of different ages fought, and trained under the setting sun. A wooden table with a very smartly dressed man sitting behind it was to Akira's immediate left.
 Akira faced the man. He stood up, and formally shook Akira's hand, and sat down again. Organized papers were sorted on his desk, and a clipboard full of paper contained lists of names. This kind of organization must have been for school records, but this did not concern Akira, mearly interested him.
 "Hello young man. What is your name?" This man asked Akira. The man noticed the professionalism of the young boy, and wondered about him. "He looks intelligent. He's stronger than he looks." The man thought.
 "My name is Akira Tamatzu." Akira replied confidently. He was no longer nervous, but now just anxious to get on with it.
 "Well Akira, just for our information, what martial arts have you trained in?" This question made Akira feel quite smart, and above other people, which he hated and detested feeling like.
 "I've got top Dan in jujitsu, Tae-Kwon-Doe, and Kung-Fu." The man's jaw dropped in awe at this answer. "I knew it. I knew he was stronger than he looked" He thought to himself.
 "Well, go and warm up on the mat in the corner, with that boy." The man said, still shaking in awe. Akira walked away, without saying a word. "Well, I certainly shocked him."  He thought to himself, grinning inside. Akira liked to shock people, it was the best scare idea there was. He left those ideas as they where, and looked at the boy he was to fight. He was slightly taller than Akira, with jet black hair. He seemed awfully familiar, as if he had seen him before, perhaps in a dream. Then it clicked, it all made sense. Akira knew who the boy was, but he thought best not to mention it, until he was certain of his true identity.
 On the mat the teenage boy was pleased. Everything was falling into place nicely. He had best be wary, though. If what his father told him was true, his power was immense. "Even if he is the one we need, I still have to be careful that I don't kill him. That would be a terrible waste of power." Gohan thought. Even if Akira had great power, he had to learn to harness it. However, all Gohan had to concentrate on was getting him to understand. For his sake, Piccolo's sake, and the Earth's future, lay in this boy's hands.
 Akira bowed on reaching the mat, and stood on it. He looked at the boy, and kept back the urge to reveal his identity.  The two boys faced each other, and walked to the center of the mat to greet each other.
 "Hello. My name is Akira." He said in a tone of friendliness, before offering his hand to shake.
 "Hi, I'm Gohan. Pleased to meet you. Shall we get on with this?" The boy said, squeezing Akira's hand before returning to the other side of the mat. Both boy's faced each other from opposite corners, bowed, and the battle began.
  Akira and Gohan ran at each other, and locked each other in holds in the center of the mat.  Staring each other in the eyes, the respected their respective strength, and separated. Akira came at Gohan with incredible speed, combining punches, and kicks in a blur. However, Gohan handled this with ease, before pushing Akira away.
 "Lucky for him that was only a mediocre attack." Thought Akira, who was slightly shocked at the ease of Gohan's defense.
 It's was Gohan's turn to attack. He came at Akira in a rush that surprised Akira. Punches, and kicks where thrown by both boys, and they covered the mat at speeds which made the others turn, and look in shock.
 Akira was not just fighting. He was analyzing Gohan's fighting style. He did this to help his defense, and find a weakness. Gohan's attack was solid, but his defense was flawed. "If I make Gohan think I'm aiming for his head, I can take him out!" Akira thought to himself. "This would be good T.V!"
 Gohan breathed heavily. Not since Cell had Gohan been pushed this far. He was frustrated enough to go Super Saiyan, but must keep his energy under wraps. From nowhere, his father's voice came to his mind.
 "Son, he's got you figured out. Don't get cocky. Put your guard. He may just surprise you yet!" The kind voice said. Gohan heeded this advice, before feeling an energy level rise. He looked over at Akira, who was getting angry. He felt a surge of energy unlike anything ever felt before, and really did need his father's advice.
 Akira began to run. His speed increased, and Gohan began to protect his face. Gohan could not stop this attack in this form, but could not change . He could only hope that he was OK. Akira kept on running before lifting off the floor, foot upturned ready to strike. Gohan covered his face, and closed his eyes. Akira smirked at the turn of good luck, before planting his foot into Gohan's stomach.
 Gohan lifted off the floor. He could not stop this. He just went. He crashed through a wooden wall, which led to the girls changing room. He landed on the floor unconscious, amid screaming girls with towels around their hair, and their bodies. Akira had won.
 Akira looked on in shock. Where had he got that power? He looked at the rubble which among lay Gohan. His muscles ached from the fight, and Akira could not continue to stand. He collapsed on the mat, and cried in agony.
 
 
 

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