“Alright. I think that’s the last of it…”
Barlei tugged at the strings of his small knapsack, closing up his meager belongings within. Was this it? Was this truly the sum of his belongings after so much time spent on the peninsula?
He hadn’t done much to fit in with the Ensalada Island society. He treated everyone like a nuisance, rude to child and adult alike, and only bothered to show when Cayle rounded up the strongest in order to go bunker busting. There wasn’t a single thing to tie him to this place anymore—and, if he were honest, no real reason to stay.
He glanced around his small, dilapidated hut. It had been built with next to no zeni; the native islanders who helped build it took little payment and a lot of beer. They were good, salt-of-the-earth type people. A small part of him had even toyed with the idea of considering them friends.
But his friends always ended up getting hurt, killed, or worse. People died around him, especially when he wasn’t strong enough to do anything about it.
This hut had done nothing but lull him into severe complacency. His fighting prowess had suffered as a result. He wanted to be stronger and protect the ones he cared about, but the existence of this place would only continue to lull him back instead of truly seeking more from this life.
Cutting ties wasn’t easy. In a sense, he’d always be connected to this place, this island, and the small pocket of his people Cayle had dedicated his life and service to redeeming. He’d never told the brat to his face, but he was proud of him. Maybe, in some distant future, he really COULD be a king.
But for now… time to split.
Slinging his pack over his shoulder, Barlei floated up into the air and extended his open palm down at the hut. Black energy flickered along his palm as a crackling orb of ki formed.
“It was fun while it lasted. I gotta get the hell out of dodge for a while. Damn shame, too.”
He fired the bolt of energy. It struck the hut, setting it aflame.
It didn’t take long for the flames to consume the hut altogether, leaving it a smoldering wreck at the edge of the peninsula. Black smoke curled high into the sky.
No more excuses. No more holding back.
It was time to get serious.
Some Time Later…
“You’re an idiot, Barlei.”
“Good to see you too, Rye.”
The pair of Saiyans soared through blue skies dotted with stringy clouds as they flew north.
“Why South City?” Rye wondered.
“There’s some martial arts master—I want him to train me.”
“Why?”
“Whaddya mean why, dumb ass? For training of course!”
He had to weave aside as the crackling bolt of ki she fired at him flew past his head.
Rye shook a fist at him, scowling. “Better watch that smart mouth of yours, cadet. I trained you, remember? And I can still beat your ass!”
Barlei chuckled, his black hair tossed by the wind as he glanced over at her.
“I also inherited that potty mouth of yours, too.”
Rye swore at him, folding her arms as she glared off into the distance. She always acted as if he were a great annoyance—most probably wouldn’t guess their relationship to be that of a student and mentor. With her short hair cut, slender physique and feminine charm, none would guess she was once the fearsome Major Rye of their Saiyan shock troop.
"Barlett." She rarely used his full name. It was enough to garner his full attention.
"What's up, Rye?"
"Don't go trying to prove anything. Yeah, I'm pissed about what happened in the past. The way you bailed on the front lines and got us ambushed." Her hard stare met his. "So many died. I'm still not entirely sure I've forgiven you."
"That's okay. I can't even forgive myself. Why should you?"
"Either way, just know it's okay to live YOUR life--you can't bring our friends back, no matter how many amends you attempt."
He flew in silence, watching as the vast stretch of blue waters finally gave way to land. They'd reach South City soon.
"About time to part ways. Sure you don't wanna tag along? That World Martial Arts Tournament could be fun. Kick the crap out of everyone else and fight each other for real in the finals? Whaddya say, Rye?" He offered a cheesy grin--a rare smile. "For old time's sake."
"Another time, kiddo. I've got a date with destiny in West City."
She flew close to him, blowing him a kiss.
"Later, handsome. Don't die like a dumb ass!"
Branching off, she spiraled gracefully away from him, heading west. He chuckled, angling downwards toward the city.
Of course he wouldn't die. He couldn't. He had to keep the memory of his fallen brothers alive.
WC: 836