Koji's Tale

by Jamie L. Word

"Obsession Of A Warrior"

Planet Vegeta.

Hours later.

Shuji and Echiko were in the training room with Koji, but the boy's thoughts were far from home. His father looked at the boy with some concern, and Echiko shared this sentiment over their son's odd behavior.

"What is it, Koji?" Shuji inquired in that parental tone denoting a concern connected with a command. "What is troubling you, my son?"

"I grow bored, Father," Koji answered, looking away as he spoke and then turning his entire body to the side. "This training lacks the glory of true battle, and we have no current mission to undertake. I must fight. I must feel the thrill of battle. My passion for it burns inside my blood like a hot, raging fire. My soul cries out for combat with a hunger and a thirst, a very need to quench the appetite of my very being. I wish to go out on my own. I need a mission for myself. I don't want the distraction of the others there."

"My son," Shuji responded with much concern and serious reservations. "I am sure we can go on a family outing together."

"No," Koji interrupted with a firm declaration as he then looked into his father's eyes with a new look in his eyes, a strange gleam of passion. "I want to go alone. I need this. I will see you again when I am done. I have already taken the liberty of requesting a mission from Frieza himself, and he has agreed to send me on one. I will be going to the planet Ferella to prepare it for bartering by him."

"Son, no!" Echiko gasped in horror, trembling as she realized her worst nightmare might have been coming to pass right before her eyes.

"Yes, Mother," Koji replied as he glared into her eyes, prompting her to look down, unable to meet his gaze for longer than a second. This intriqued him, possibly disturbed him, as he noted this reaction. In his mind, he flashed back to long buried memories of her turning her back upon him when he was an infant just four-hours-old. A twitch in his facial muscles preceeded him steeling his resolve and strengthening his composure.

Shuji now noticed the strange interaction between mother and child, and he looked back to his son to study his gaze and his features closely, occassionally shifting his gaze back to the mother for a brief moment of silent scrutiny. He did so for several seconds without uttering a word.

"Why can you not meet my gaze, Mother?" Koji inquired directly as he regarded his mother's distance with some curiousity and disdain. "Are you afraid I will see another tear form in your eye and stream down your cheek?"

Shuji turned to his wife, his mouth a-gape with shock and confusion as Echiko looked up to meet their gazes, tears now flowing from her eyes in steady streams as she faltered in her efforts to keep her composure. Shuji seemed uncertain of what to make of this sight or of how to deal with it, so he regarded this moment of passion with uneasy quiet.

"Tears are a sign of weakness, aren't they, Mother?" Koji questioned her regarding her emotional display. "You said we shouldn't weep for it shows weakness within us. If we cry, our hearts are too soft, and soft hearts result in diluted logic. An enemy could play our emotions against us, and that would be very bad."

Shuji turned towards his son with a look of incredulous disbelief and total shock, and the boy met his gaze with a look of resolute determination.

"You have trained me since the moment I could walk to be a warrior, and that is all I have ever known," Koji declared to his father. "I have never wasted my time with silly children's games or any such frivolity. I have never spent any time with other children, nor have I seen any other children. Aside from you and the team, I have seen very few of my people, and I have gotten to know none but you and the team.

I met with Frieza through one of his lackeys here whom I cornered and pressed into service. He is the only outsider I have not been inclined to destroy. He has promised me a mission of my own so that I may prove myself and achieve personal glory of my own. He understands my need for this.

Mother, you are weak. You allow your emotions to hinder you in battle, you slack in our training because of your feelings for me, and you shed tears when you look at me as if I have done something to disappoint you. I have strived to learn all that you've had to teach me, and I've done everything you've asked of me. Still your tears flow down your cheeks as if my efforts are not good enough - as if I've ... failed you.

Father, you are oblivious to all of this that is going on around you. You were so proud to boast and take glory in my prowess and insight with the rest of the team that you never saw what I saw in Mother's eyes. Such lack of attention to detail is a weakness. You always said that it's the little things that can cause your downfall. Things you easily overlook through lack of dilligence can pave the path to ruin for a warrior. Father, you're heading down that road, and you don't even have a clue. I once believed you were the single greatest warrior of all, but now I see your blind addiction to paternal glory - how it has made you foolish and careless. Every well-schooled insight, every tactical perception, every display of skill or power, you revel in them as though they were your own - placing yourself as the center of attention so that the others can give you the credit for my shrewdness and prowess. I was the one who formulated those strategies you were so proud of. I was the one who displayed the power and skill you gloried in. I learned from you, but I didn't execute those lessons through you."

Koji's parents looked upon the child with complete shock and bewilderment, and Koji looked at them with disappointment.

"You raised me to be what you cannot be," Koji concluded with near-contemptuous arrogance. "The perfect warrior."

Koji walked right past his stunned parents and exited the training chamber through the sliding door, never looking back. Neither Shuji nor Echiko seemed capable of even the slightest movement for some time. Seconds stretched on for tormentous eternities for the two Saiyans. Soon, tears began to roll down Shuji's face as well. Slowly, he moved closer to Echiko, then he wrapped his arms around her. She very nearly melted within them as she collapsed into uncontrollable sobbing. The floodgates had opened, and her soul released a storm of pent-up emotional baggage that she had collected over the years. Shuji's countenance was one of heartbreak and regret as he could not find the words to comfort his grieving wife let alone to restore his composure. Their solitude seemed to be of much more epic proportions as they felt like the only two people on the planet rather than just the only two people in the training chamber. After some time, Echiko finally gathered enough composure to break through her sobbing and weeping so she could look Shuji in the eyes.

"It's our fault," she sobbed as she struggled to maintain this momentary composure for a bit longer. "If only we'd given him our full love and not tried to hide our hearts behind an iron wall of strict training regiments and the crazy notion that we had to protect him from our affection to make him stronger. We protected him from our hearts, but who is there to protect us now from his?"

With that said, Echiko's composure left her once more, and she crumpled into her husband's chest weeping bitterly. Shuji lowered his head until his chin rested upon the top of her head, as much a sense of shame causing him to do so as anything else. His powerful arms gently held her up as she lost even the strength to stand upright in the wake of her sorrow. He wondered where he himself found the strength to stand at all, let alone to hold her up.

Sometime later, Koji was in a space pod, heading for the planet Ferella. His scouter was a-fixed to his face, and his countenance displayed disappointment and disdain as it continued to plague him from earlier. His dark, brooding eyes watched the view of space in complete silence as the space pod raced along at incredible speed. The four-year-old man was on a mission, and it was to take him far, far from home - so much farther than he could ever realize.