Hitting Shadows (Dragon Ball Z, One-Shot)

[Talos]

The crowd jeered, pressing in further, a myriad of colours and species all blending into a leering kaleidoscope of grinning faces. The sound of them filled up the training room, chanting and cursing as their favourite pick won or lost. Many were holding money – currency from a hundred different worlds. Most were garbed in the armour of Frieza's soldiers, but a few wore the looser robes of an administrator or tech specialist. For the moment, all thought of rank and seniority was lost, everyone united in the spectacle of the fight.

It was late in the game; the early rounds had been over quickly, most of the new fighters knocked out by the old blood. It was said that when it came to Frieza's forces the only way to get ahead was to show power. This wasn't quite that – this was unregulated, and for no reward other than victory or credits won in betting. Most of the fighters who were still going strong were the type who just liked to mix it up, and those who wanted to inflict pain on others. Currently, a much anticipated fight was playing out, and the crowd winced and cheered as the tables turned again and again.

He was focusing, even the loud sound of the crowd around the ring almost failed to reach him. Ten days out of the tank, and his body was still aching. His ribs still tender; a dozen pains across his form reminded him of the blows he'd taken. His weight felt wrong; his muscles felt tight, and not just with the tension of the battle. He wasn't moving right, it just didn't fit together like it once would. He knew why, of course.

His enemy was a purple faced. Astran, a large warrior all muscle and power, but hard to put down, especially as the regulations of the fight forbid energy attacks. This was a battle of fists and brains, and only a few decided to employ the latter. The Astran was bruised from a few lucky hits that had gone past his guard, but he was still confident. Still sure that he could win.

That would change.

They clashed again, the Astran tried to hammer a blow home over his guard, but he intercepted, and turned it back. At the same time, his right hand chopped across to the foe's sternum, but the alien flowed away, and countered with an upwards kick that would have knocked him off-balance if he didn't parry with a forearm. Taking advantage of the break, the Astrain moved forwards, swiftly transitioning to a series of brutal blows to the arm and chest. His body cried out, but he refused to flinch, and ploughed through it. The alien baulked at the last minute, and ducked away, dodging low under the sweeping movement of his arm.

They circled again. The crowd only a distant buzz in his ears. His dark hair was matted to his forehead with sweat. His muscles were crying out in pain, though, more because of the wounds still healing than because of damage inflicted so far. His tail…

Well, he didn't have one of those anymore. There was no time to feel that stabbing regret now, though, because the enemy came at him again. He faked to the right, and Raditz bought it, taking a heavy hit to the upper chest for his trouble. Pain flared through him, and he staggered back. The alien's foot swept out to trip him up, but Raditz pitched himself forwards and turned his fall into a dive. The alien was committed, and couldn't dodge this time, so the two of them went down in a tangle of limbs, fighting brutally for power and control.

Somehow, Raditz was winning that fight, and he knew he shouldn't be. He was too used to being the weak one, the soft one, the slow one. Now, an Astran who should have been at least his equal was being overpowered almost with what he would term '' ease''. The creature was getting desperate as they matched muscles, it tried to get a hold of him, but the Saiyan broke it, and his palm slammed into its face; the alien jerked, and spat dark blood, a look of shock in its eyes. It knew as well that he should be weak.

Raditz wasn't weak. Not anymore. A state of affairs that he was still taking time to get used to. The Astrain was dazed and confused, too caught up in its pain to do much as he lifted it into the air with ease. By the time it realised what had happened, it was too late, and Raditz hurled it from the centre of the ring, the creature twisted as it struck the ground, sending the crowd fleeing. The Saiyan turned, and crossed his arms.

"Ring out. You lose."

"D-damn Saiyan." The alien murmured, picking itself up gingerly. "So cocky… you just got the jump on me is all. Next time, I'll crush you."

"Care to try then?"

"Hmmp, maybe in the next tournament. I'm not going to waste my time on you." The alien turned, and melted back into the crowd. Raditz watched him go, feeling curiously cold. He knew that even as little as a month ago, he'd have tried to kill the alien for talking to him like that. For addressing a Saiyan in that manner.

Right now, though, he couldn't care less.

He looked to the crowd, scanning faces, hoping to find someone strong. Hoping to find someone who could actually make him try. Rules were that you fought until you were beaten, and Raditz had already taken down three of the best, and two of the grunts. Surely, they had to have someone better to send against him than those?

"Who else wants to step up?" He growled. "Who else wants to face the might of the Saiyans?"

It was a stupid taunt, but he knew it would do its job. He'd invoked the name of the hated Saiyans, someone would step forward to force him to take back his words. He'd crush them too, and the next ones, and the ones after that. All the way until…

Until he what, found his limit? He knew that wasn't what he was searching for. If that was the case, he could spar with Nappa. Though, he was much stronger now having recovered from injuries inflicted to him on the last mission, he knew that the Saiyan elite was still by far his superior. He almost chuckled, imagining Nappa's face and voice.

''Why, if you want to be beaten into the ground so much, all you have to do is ask.''

His amusement turned to bitterness though as his mental image of the bald Saiyan morphed into another image, the true target of his ire.

''If you think you can impress me by fighting like that, you've got another thing coming. Your technique is sloppy, so what if you have more power? It doesn't mean a damn if I never get hit with it.''

His temper flared, and he clenched his fist, looking out over the crowd.

"I'm sorry." He growled. "I didn't know that you were such cowards. Shall I take my winnings now then?"

"You're not going to win anything, Saiyan!" Someone shouted at him, and Raditz considered lobbing a bolt of power in that general direction. Instead, he responded.

"Really now? Why don't you come and show me then, instead of just running your mouth off? So far, I've beaten everyone you sent against me. Actions speak louder than words."

He frowned, realising how much the last sentence he'd spoken sounded like something his father would say, and it served to renew his fury. Sending new strength coursing through him. He knew that he was wasting his time here, none of these people were strong enough to stop him. As the weakest of the three surviving Saiyans, he once would have considered the strongest amongst thgem dangerously powerful. Now, though? Thanks to the sheer damage he'd taken fighting the Arkosians, he was stronger than ever.

He was strong. Stronger than he ever had been before. Strong enough that even Vegeta had to recognise that he was no mere pawn! So why did it feel like he'd accomplished nothing? Why did it feel like he'd actually gone backwards? The loss of his tail, perhaps? That in one of his final blows, the Arkosian leader had severed was still a sore spot for the Saiyan. He felt loss, the kind of loss a non-Saiyan just wouldn't understand. It wasn't like losing a limb, it was worse. While he didn't have a tail, the Oozaru form was locked to him. Making him weak and pathetic as he'd always feared he was. Even with his new power, he feared that he'd actually gotten weaker overall.

No, that wasn't quite it. Raditz sighed, realising that he was covering up the true reason for his melancholy. The loss of his tail had little to do with it. It was that all his new power had bought him were doubts. Doubts about his place, about his duty, about things he'd never even wondered about before.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. When a Saiyan got stronger, he was supposed to feel like he was on top of the world. All Raditz felt was that he'd lost something precious. He didn't understand, and took out that confusion and rage on those who dared to stand against him. He didn't even really want the money, he just wanted to fight. To fight, and to keep fighting until all his doubts were carried away by the singing of his warrior blood.

It wasn't working. His own power was stopping it from working. No matter how hard they tried, these low ranked warriors couldn't even harm him!

Hmm, was this how Vegeta felt all the time?

At any rate, it didn't matter, this fools just couldn't touch him. He downed the next challenger in four moves, knocking him flying with a solid kick to the gut.

"Next." He glared down at the crowd. "This time, if I may give you advice, send someone who can actually fight."

Fighting these guys wasn't working. They simply weren't strong enough to make him drop into that mono-focused mode of thought that he considered a warrior's mindset. It didn't do anything to stop the doubts which assailed him from every angle, always with the same shadow behind him. That of Bardock, of his father. The same shadow which had loomed over him for most of his life. The same face he'd imagined mocking him at every turn, the one he'd never been able to beat.

He hated it. Hated how his father could make him feel weak even now that he was stronger than he'd ever been! Yet, all his victory turned to ash at the thought of those cold eyes regarding him so critically, just like they'd done so many times before. How could a dead man control him so easily? He knew he shouldn't care! What mattered in the end was who survived, not who was stronger, but even the thought of Bardock made him flinch, made him fear.

What was it that made his father such a figure of awe to him? Again and again he'd tried to figure it out. Though, it sounded downright traitorous to say, even the Prince didn't inspire that sort of awe in him, and it was awe, loath as he was to admit it. His father, the unbeatable warrior, the unconquerable Saiyan. The low class soldier who could surpass even the elites.

What the hell kind of reputation was that to grow up with your old man having? Hovering over you like a shadow. Every minute of the day, Raditz had been expected to be strong, to be elite even if he wasn't actually of the class. Among the lower order, Bardock was a legend. A roadblock he could never pass.

Was he fast? Not as fast as his father.

Was his strong? Not as strong as Bardock.

Power? So what, even if he did manage to eclipse his old man, he'd still go down in the end.

Cunning? Don't even joke. Bardock was the most cunning warrior he'd ever faced, Raditz didn't even stand to compare.

What did he have that his father didn't? The answer was nothing, and that was why he'd worked so hard to fight. To clash with during their occasional sparring fights. It must have happened a dozen times or more. Back from a mission, Raditz would be full of confidence and strength and power, but that would all be beaten out of him in minutes. Bardock was just...just too good, and he didn't understand the concept of holding back.

''Enemies won't hold back on you, I don't see why I should. I won't have my son dying because I made him soft.''

Just once, if he only could have won once! Or even got close to it, maybe it would have been different, but it never was. Even the few times that Raditz technically had more raw power, he went down to his father's overwhelming experience. It was ironic, Raditz knew that Vegeta thought he had no Saiyan pride. Truth was, he did, but it wasn't as obvious as anyone else's. That had gotten beaten out of him by his father through repeated thrashings.

''Don't be arrogant, you don't deserve it until you can win.''

''You're doing what you always do and mistaking mere power for strength. They're not even remotely the same.''

''Even after everything I've tried to teach you, you still don't come close to beating me.''

Then, there was the judging eyes of the others. That he, Raditz, the son of Bardock was so unimportant. He remembered each time he reported a victory, he would face the judgement in their gaze. How many worlds had Bardock brought to heel when he was Raditz's age? More than Raditz had done, that was for sure. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't catch up,and as Bardock became more and more renowned, Raditz fell further and further behind. When Bardock and his team starting being directly compared to elites, what could Raditz do or say to top that?

That was why he was fighting now, he realised sourly. It wasn't these worms he wanted to face, he wanted to fight Bardock. He wanted to finally prove that he was worthy of his place, that he could struggle free of his father's shadow.

It was a mission he would never complete. Bardock was dead. Planet Vegeta was dead, Raditz was the sole survivor of the lower class. In a very real way, he was the last of his kind. The culture of the elite and the lower class on Planet Vegeta had been radically different at times, though, they were all united in mourning for the world they had lost, Vegeta and Nappa at least had each other.

What did he have? Who could stand with him and remember the friends and allies he'd made? The lower warriors, the ones who worked together, the ones who knew how to spin a story over a drink. The ones who knew what it was like to train like hell because you weren't strong enough. Vegeta and even Nappa had been born to power, only the lower class started weak… What did they know of the bitter fight to gain strength, and respect and the envy of your peers? Those weren't things that elites had to fight for!

Nappa's face swam before his eye, and he faltered on that final thought, a sense of guilt stabbed through his self-pity for a moment. Nappa had been good to him since he had come here, stood up for him when no one else would, and even fought the Prince for his right to be here as one of the last Saiyans. It would be unfair to say that he hadn't helped, he'd helped a great deal, but it wasn't the same. Slowly, Raditz was coming to the unpleasant realisation that he didn't even want to fight his father. Not truly. He just wanted to meet him, to prove to him that he wasn't weak. He wanted to show him how far he'd come.

He wanted not to be alone.

But he was alone.

He was the last of his kind, the last low-ranked Saiyan, and no matter how Nappa treated him, he'd never forget that.

There was no one else like him left in the whole universe.

He was the very last.