Strongest Under the Heavens

[CaBrPi]

Hey, everyone. I'm still new here, but I figured I'd go ahead and post this. In essence, it's re-telling of the first two Z movies that attempts to fit them into canon. I originally wrote it with several of the dub names used, because I'm most familiar with them, so if you spot any, please be sure to tell me so I can fix it. I went through and edited all the ones I spotted, but I probably can't catch them all, and I don't think the board filters can, either.

You can, if you wish, find this story on fanfiction.net as well. However you read it, please enjoy!

Chapter One: The Heavens Tremble
The wind whistled harshly over the grassland, chilling the air. Gohan shivered slightly, and clamped his jaws together so his teeth wouldn't chatter.

“What's the matter, Gohan? Can't take the cold? Well I've got news for you, kid, no Saiyan's gonna be stopped by a little cool weather, so toughen up!” Piccolo scolded him.

“I'm sorry,” Gohan muttered, shaking the cold from his body.

“Don't be sorry!” Piccolo roared. “Be strong!”

“Okay,” Gohan said, before taking a deep breath. Piccolo's right, he thought. Dad's friends must be training just as hard as I am.

“Now, let's see you dodge this,” Piccolo said, hurling a golden ball of ki at Gohan.

Gohan noticed Piccolo's body move backwards ever so slightly, and that he was attacking with his right hand. Almost on instinct, he vaulted to his right, avoiding Piccolo's blast entirely, springing on his hands, and landing lightly on his feet several meters away.

Piccolo smirked, straightening to his full height. “Good. We'll take a break for now. Go find something to eat.”

“Yes sir,” Gohan said, darting off into the air.

He couldn't help but grin. One one hand, it was only three months until the Saiyans arrived. On the other hand, it was only three months until he got to see his dad again, and he knew his dad would be unbeatable when he got back.

But until then, it was up to Gohan to train his hardest so he'd be able to give his dad a hand if it came to it.

Before long, Gohan came to a familiar apple tree. He circled around it a few times, scouting for the largest, ripest apple he hadn't already picked and eaten yet. He decided on a particularly rotund fruit and tore it from the tree with a quick flick of his wrist. In a few moments, everything but the core and its seeds was gone, and Gohan sucked his fingers clean and dropped the core carelessly to the ground.

Then he noticed a twittering in one of the branches above. He looked toward the source of the sound, and saw an odd bird perched there. It was completely off-white, its feathers were rigid against the wind, and the branch bent under its weight much further than Gohan would've expected.

It gazed at him with its head cocked to one side, almost inquisitively. Gohan stared curiously back.

“Hey, there, little bird!” Gohan said cheerily, waving gleefully at the bird, which only continued to look at him.

“Want an apple? Oh, but I guess an apple would be too big for you to eat. How about a seed, then?” Gohan said, reaching down to the core and plucking a seed from it. He held it up to the bird between his thumb and forefinger, wagging it back and forth temptingly.

The bird remained completely still.

“I'll leave it on the ground in case you get hungry later, then,” Gohan said, carefully placing the seed on top of the discarded core before turning and flying back to where Piccolo was waiting.

“Are you finished?” Piccolo asked.

“Yes sir,” Gohan said, nodding politely.

“Good,” Piccolo said. “Now, let's get back to your training.”

“Okay,” Gohan replied.

Piccolo struck faster than lightning. Gohan sailed backwards several meters before righting himself and landing nimbly on his feet. Piccolo shot forward in pursuit, and punched air as Gohan disappeared and delivered a powerful kick to Piccolo's back that sent him tumbling forward.

“Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't hit you too hard, did I?” Gohan said, his feet touching down.

Piccolo stood, wiping a drip of saliva from his mouth. “You can never hit too hard in battle, kid. You shouldn't worry about hurting the enemy.”

“But you're not the enemy,” Gohan said, looking down at his feet.

Piccolo stood, relaxing his body. “Fine then. Just remember that when I kill your dad again and then conquer the world. And no punch can kill me.”

Gohan didn't answer. “All right, let me show you another technique. I call this one the Masenko.”

Gohan immediately perked up, smiling. “The Masenko?” he repeated.

“Yes,” Piccolo said. “It's a move my father used against yours when they fought eight years ago. Place your hands parallel to each other in front of your forehead, gather your ki there, and then spring your hands forward while rotating them at a right angle before channeling the gathered ki out from them.” Piccolo demonstrated the attack, creating a yellow blast that gouged out the earth in front of him for several meters.

“Okay,” Gohan said, mimicking his mentor's instructions. “Masenko...” he said, turning away from Piccolo and gathering his energy into the palms of his hands, “HA!” A smaller yellow blast of energy erupted from Gohan's hands, leaving an equally-smaller crater.

“Not bad, Gohan. Keep practicing that, you'll get the hang of it soon enough,” Piccolo said. “If you manage to tap into the same levels of energy I saw when you pummeled Raditz, you might stand a chance against the other Saiyans.”

“Yes sir,” Gohan said, preparing the attack again, until he noticed a bird flying toward him. He lowered his hands.

“Gohan, what are you doing!?” Piccolo shouted. “I told you to keep trying!”

“Look, Mr. Piccolo! There's a bird in the way!” Gohan said, pointing at the approaching tiny white shape.

“Oh, for... Gohan, it's just a bird! Fire in a different direction if it's so important!”

“I think it followed me,” Gohan said, as the bird landed on the ground directly in front of him and looked up into his face.

“What do you mean?” Piccolo growled.

“I saw it at the apple tree I ate from earlier,” Gohan explained. The bird was definitely the same one: it was the same color, and looked just as heavy.

Piccolo stepped to Gohan's side. “I don't sense any ki at all coming from it. Whatever it is, it's no bird,” he said, opening the palm of his hand to the bird and blasting it with an energy wave.

“Why'd you do that, Mr. Piccolo?” Gohan cried.

“Right now, we're better off without anyone knowing we're out here. I don't want to deal with any of your dad's friends. We've got other things to worry about, and so do they, if they want to be any help,” Piccolo said.

But the dust caused by the bird's destruction swirled up into the air, slowly forming the shape of a face with long, pointed ears and tiny fangs protruding from the mouth. Gohan could tell by the scent of the dust that it was largely composed of salt.

“Greetings, Son Gohan,” the face said, immediately causing both Piccolo and Gohan to fall silent. “My name is Talse, and I created this messenger to seek you out, and you alone. I have sent this message under the request of my master, Lord Garric II, who seeks your participation in a tournament of the Earth's greatest fighters. My master has been watching you with great interest since the display of your powers against the invading Saiyan alien, and requested your participation in this tournament, which will take place in one day.” The figure morphed into the shape of a palace that seemed to be floating. “You may find my master's palace located in the sky above the ocean north of South City. We eagerly await your arrival.” With that, the dust composing the figure scattered into the wind.

It was a few moments before Gohan looked up at Piccolo, who remained silent. Gohan could tell that he was thinking, and decided to give him a few minutes to mull everything over.

Finally, Piccolo spoke: “Gohan, you're going to fight in that tournament. Kami's probably been training your dad's friends. I want to see how you stack up against them.”

Gohan had thought that Piccolo would say something like that. “But-” he started, but Piccolo cut him off.

“This is the best way to know how far you've come, kid. If you win, I'll know I don't have to train you too much harder,” Piccolo said.

“But how do you know my dad's friends will be there?” Gohan asked.

“Because, Gohan, he said his master was hosting a tournament of the world's strongest fighters. I expect that, whoever this 'Garric' is, he would've chosen several fighters from the old Tenkaichi-Budokai tournaments. And if there are even stronger fighters out there, even better. And if not, I want to see you in action anyway. Against an opponent who won't hold anything back,” Piccolo answered.

Gohan knew trying to convince Piccolo otherwise would only be a waste of time. “Okay,” he said, “I'll do it.”

*****

Just as the messenger had said, the palace loomed high in the clouds above the ocean north of South City. Several towers on the north end stood sentinel over the lower parts of the castle, which Gohan assumed included the arena that the tournament was to take place in. The bottom of the castle, as well as whatever propulsion system kept it airborne, was obscured beneath the white veil of a cloud bank.

Piccolo had refused to accompany him even part of the way there. He claimed that he had more training to do on his own, so Gohan didn't question him. After all, if Piccolo thought he should train alone for a while, it was probably for the best, especially if the two oncoming Saiyans were as powerful as Raditz had claimed. Piccolo would just be wasting his time watching Gohan fight.

Gohan was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed a short, squat figure approaching the edge of a raised platform at the edge of the palace closest to him. As he neared, he saw that this was Talse, the same one who had contacted him with the salt-smelling bird. He was wearing a large brown fur hat, white gloves and boots, sky-blue pants, and a spring green vest. Talse's face was as red as the setting sun, but it was welcoming, and Gohan took comfort in that.

“Greetings, young one. I have already introduced myself, but, as you know, I am Talse. My master was most pleased when we sensed your approach,” Talse said, as Gohan alighted next to him on the platform. “Please, follow me.”

“Okay,” Gohan said, as Talse turned and started down the staircase winding around the platform to an empty courtyard with an apple tree growing at its center.

The brown bricks beneath Gohan's feet were perfectly smooth, without a single imperfection in their surfaces. He could hardly even hear his own footsteps.

Talse led Gohan to the cluster of towers to the north, passing a massive structure in the center of the palace with massive doorways. He couldn't see the floor of this room, only a balcony surrounding an empty center, and stairs leading down to another balcony encircling the room. Everything was made of the same brown brickwork.

Not long after, the two entered a lengthy hall, at the end of which stood an ornate golden throne that glimmered in the setting sun, draped with a red blanket. There were several men and creatures in this room, apparently the other fighters.

Gohan immediately recognized one of them as Kuririn. He turned, grinned widely, and waved. “Hey, Gohan!” he shouted.

A tall bald man with three eyes turned to look at Gohan. “That's Goku's little boy?”

“Yeah,” Kuririn said. “According to Piccolo, he's got some amazing power.”

“Amazing power? Sounds just like his old man,” another said, brushing a long black lock of hair out of his scarred face.

“Uh, hi,” Gohan said shyly, folding his hands behind his back and looking down at his feet.

“My master will be with you shortly,” Talse said, before quickly disappearing.

“So, Gohan, Piccolo hasn't been to rough on you, has he?” Kuririn asked, patting Gohan on the shoulder.

Gohan looked up. “No, Piccolo's actually not so bad,” he said.

Krillin laughed. “I didn't know you had a sense of humor!”

“Well, Piccolo did help Goku defeat his brother,” said the three-eyed man. “I don't know, but I don't think King Piccolo would've ever done something like that.”

Kuririn took a few seconds to compose himself. “Gohan, this is Tenshinhan. He's the one who beat your dad at the second tournament we participated in,” he said, indicating the three-eyed man.

Tenshinhan nodded curtly. “Please, I only won through luck. Goku beat me soundly the next time we fought. It's nice to meet you Gohan.”

“It's nice to meet you, too, sir,” Gohan said, bowing.

“I'm Yamcha,” the man with long black hair said. “I met your dad when he started collecting the Dragon Balls.”

“And- hey, where's Chaozu?” Kuririn said, glancing around.

“I'm up here!” came a timid voice. A tiny white-skinned man about Gohan's height floated slowly down from above. His rosy cheeks, white skin tone, and bald head made him look almost like a porcelain doll, like the kind Gohan's grandfather occasionally bought his mother.

“Hi,” Gohan said.

“Hi,” the little man repeated. “I'm Chaozu.”

“So, are you gonna be in this tournament, too, Gohan?” Kuririn asked.

“Piccolo said I should. He wanted to see how I stacked up against you guys,” Gohan said, shuffling his feet slightly.

“That's great! I can't wait to see what you can do now,” Kuririn said, patting Gohan on the back.

“Kuririn, do you know all of these fighters?” Gohan asked.

“A couple.” He pointed to a man wearing white pants and a turban. “That's Namu. He fought your dad in our very first tournament.” Next he pointed to a well-muscled man with shaggy black hair wearing a yellow robe and blue sash. “That's King Chapa. He fought your dad, too, in the last two tournaments we participated in.” Next was a monstrous dinosaur-like creature. It was bulky, with small bat-like wings and a horn on its snout. “That's Giran. He can be pretty nasty, but your dad beat him, too.” Next to Giran stood a thin man with an afro, wearing boxing gloves. “That's Panpoot. He used to be a big star before your dad defeated him.” Finally, Kuririn pointed to a rotund man with long, black hair, and an orange outfit. “That's Yajirobe. He helped your dad defeat King Piccolo years ago. He's not too nice, but he's not a bad guy. I don't know any of these other guys.”

Krillin glanced around the room again, as if looking for somebody. “Hey, where'd Kame Sen'nin go?”

An answering slap echoed through the hall, catching the attention of everyone present. “THAT'S THE LAST STRAW, ROSHI! WHEN THIS IS OVER, I'M GETTING A RESTRAINING ORDER!”

The old Turtle Hermit hobbled into the room from one of the side corridors similar to the one Talse had disappeared to. A red hand mark visibly throbbed on his face.

“Quiet! You'll wake up the whole neighborhood!” the old man replied to the sourceless voice.

“WE'RE THOUSANDS OF FEET ABOVE SEA LEVEL! I DON'T CARE ABOUT WAKING ANYBODY UP!” A woman Gohan recognized as Bulma, from her blue hair, stepped in after the Turtle Hermit.

Bulma cupped her hands around her mouth, and screamed at the top of her lungs, “HEY, EVERYBODY! THIS PERVERT JUST TRIED TO LOOK AT ME IN THE BATHROOM!”

“Please,” Kame Sen'nin said nervously, rubbing the back of his bald head, “it was an accident, honestly!”

Yamcha cleared his throat. “Bulma, Gohan's here.”

“Oh, hi, Gohan,” Bulma said. “AND YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU ALL- Gohan?” Bulma's head whirled back around to look at the boy. She immediately hurried to him.

“Gohan! Look at you, you've grown up so much since the last time I saw you!” she said, throwing her arms around him and picking him up off the ground in a tight hug. “Your mom's been worried sick! She's been calling Capsule Corp. every day, asking if we've seen you, if you've gotten away from Piccolo, if you've been rescued, telling us about how much studying you've missed and how far behind you are in school.”

“Mom?” Gohan said as Bulma sat him down. “Is she here?”

“No, sorry,” Bulma said. “It looks like she wasn't invited.”

“Oh,” Gohan said. He looked down at his feet again.

“Hey, cheer up!” Bulma said. “You'll see your mom in a few months, right?”

“Yeah. That's what Piccolo said, at least.”

After a few moments of relative silence, Gohan looked up. “Bulma, are you fighting, too?”

Bulma chuckled. “Me? No way. I just happened to be at Master Roshi's house when he got his invitation, and he's the only one that can't fly, so he had me bring him up here in a capsule plane. I figured I'd watch while I was here, and that creepy red guy said it was okay.”

Before Gohan could say anything, someone cleared their throat, capturing the entire room's attention. There was a pale green-skinned imp-like creature sitting upon the golden throne, dressed in elaborate robes. Talse and a tall, green-skinned creature with spiky white hair, who Gohan guessed was another servant, stood to either side.

“Welcome, honored guests. I am Lord Garric II, and I thank each and every one of you for agreeing to participate in this tournament of the greatest warriors on Earth and making the journey on such short notice. First prize, aside from bragging rights, is ten million zeni,” the imp-like creature said.

“You will draw numbers and the tournament will begin tomorrow morning. But for now, I'm sure you are all tired and weary from your long journey. Talse and Pesic, my servants, will lead you all to your quarters. Good night, and rest well.” Garric flashed a toothy smile as Pesic, the tall green creature, and Talse started forward to lead everyone to their rooms.

*****

The sun's last stand at the western horizon had been beaten down, and oranges and yellows were quickly giving way to the deep indigo of night. Piccolo hovered high in the sky, his cape dancing as the cool wind whipped around him.

“Good luck, Gohan.”