Kakarot's Arc

Chapter 6 of 14

The next challenger would not arrive for days. Roshi used the time. He led Kakarot from the arena to the old colosseum outside the city, a ring of weathered stone with towering arches and empty stone seats. "You drill here," Roshi said. "But you need a training partner who won't die." Kakarot looked at the vast, empty floor. He had the space now. He had no one to test the technique against. Chi-Chi waited at the center, sleeves tied back. Raddits stood beside her, arms crossed, his red cape hanging behind his armor. Kakarot's brother had saved him twice in the arena with cool advice while Kakarot bled. Now Raddits only smirked. "Show us what Roshi wants," he said. "Or admit you can't do it yet." Kakarot raised his fists and let the gold rise. His hair lifted. His eyes went green. He showed his brother the transformation up close, the calm control he had won against Hindurock. Raddits watched, then closed his eyes. His own hair burned gold. Green light filled his stare. He had the power too. The brothers circled, gold against gold. They traded blows. Raddits read footwork the way he had taught Kakarot to read Sir Papa. Every strike Kakarot threw came from thought, and Raddits slipped each one. Kakarot's chained bear paced its post at the arch, dragon-bone armor rattling, orange eyes tracking the fight. Kakarot's mind moved fast, but his body moved a half-beat slower. "Too slow!" Raddits said, and cracked him across the jaw. "You think too much." The voice came from an arch above. Sir Papa dropped to the sand, gauntlets loose, glasses catching the light. Roshi's first student. The man who had nearly killed Kakarot with pure craft days before. He walked onto the floor without asking. "Roshi drills the mind," Sir Papa said. "But the fast opponent kills the mind. You must let the body fight alone." Kakarot frowned. "Fight without thinking?" "Instinct." Sir Papa raised his hands. "I'll teach you. Attack me." Kakarot lunged. Sir Papa struck his shoulder, his ribs, his knee, faster than thought. "Stop planning," Sir Papa said. "Let go." Kakarot stopped counting his moves. He stopped watching feet. He breathed and let his hands move on their own. The next punch flew before he chose it. It clipped Sir Papa's cheek. Sir Papa smiled. "There." He pressed harder, and Kakarot answered without thinking, blocking, slipping, striking. His body fought alone. His mind went quiet and clear. For a long stretch he matched the paladin blow for blow, purely on instinct. Roshi nodded from the arch. "Now you have the technique," he said. "The last fight won't kill you." Sir Papa lowered his hands, breathing hard for the first time. "You learned it fast," he said. "But instinct has a cost. When the body rules, the mind can't stop it. Not even for the ones you love." He looked toward Chi-Chi. Kakarot's stomach turned cold.