After the preliminaries finished, there was, like usual, a small break before the quarterfinal matches were to begin. Luckily, the tournament itself offered certain options for the contestants to eat during breaks, though they weren't free, only discounted. Still, with five pure-blooded Saiyans onsite, it was a given that all three prominent groups found their way to that same restaurant, where a tense sort-of standoff ensued, with Tarble's group taking up a table in one corner of the room, Tater and his partner in the other corner, and Kakarot, Gohan, and Roshi in near the center, Kakarot oblivious to the tension between the other two parties, Roshi still in his Jackie Chun disguise as the boy eagerly recounted every aspect of the preliminary matches to his grandfather, who would nod and chuckle, or ask questions every once in a while while Roshi half-listened, his mind wandering.
The book that Tarble had left with Gohan did not mention anything about Super Saiyan transformations, like the one that Tarble utilized every waking hour of the day.
As such, Kakarot still hadn't realized that Tarble himself was in fact, a Saiyan, due to the blonde hair. The boy had read that book cover-to-cover so many times that he knew, by heart, that all pure-blooded Saiyans had black hair, and hairstyles that didn't change from the day they were born, aside from haircuts or the natural balding that sometimes came with aging. He just figured that Tarble was simply some teenager with blonde hair and a furry brown belt.
But Roshi knew better. For years, he'd practiced restraining techniques, sharpening his skills in death matches with the giant Oozaru that Kakarot became every full moon, trying to aid Kakarot in his futile attempts in developing control over himself while in the ape form, while ensuring that the boy didn't surpass him so easily.
The pure, raw force contained in the auras of the other four Saiyans on Papaya Island for the tournament were incomparably stronger than even Kakarot's Oozaru form. The pressure from the large one, in particular, was almost as wild as the ape, and several times more effortlessly powerful.
But it still didn't compare to the raw, controlled pressure of the blonde boy. That was like a sharp, formless blade that shifted and changed with every passing moment, like a tidal wave that wouldn't abate, with no end in sight. The boy was trying to hide most of it, but that suppression was nearly paper-thin to an expert like Roshi, and he could easily see parts of the infinite wellspring beneath.
"Alright! I'm gonna try again!" After he'd finished eating, Kakarot suddenly stood up. Confident and eager, he began to walk toward Tater's table, attempting to talk to the older Saiyan for the second time.
Everyone from my table looked up in amusement as Tater didn't even bother turning to look at the boy, instead casually directing his aura. The closer Kakarot got to the behemoth, the more his movements visibly slowed.
By the time he was halfway between their two tables, Kakarot's legs stopped moving completely, his face turning red as his entire body trembled like a leaf, trying desperately, stubbornly, to break his way through Tater's aura and earn the right to speak to the other Saiyan. The resolve in the child's eyes was impressive. It was clear that his entire being was rejecting failure, desperately soldiering on despite the overwhelming pushback. His aura spiked around him, pushed to a higher level than it'd ever been before, as his sheer refusal to quit forced a breakthrough in a way that only truly worked for a real Saiyan.
…But it still wasn't enough. Even after pushing his power further than ever before, Kakarot's body was simply too fundamentally weak to stand a chance against an overwhelming force like Tater. It was like an ant trying to get strong enough to push a mountain. It simply wasn't possible in such a short time. The ant would die, long before it became anywhere near strong enough. That was where Kakarot's current level was, compared to Tater.
Just like Tater with me, all those years ago. It was admirable that he wasn't giving up, but simply not enough.
Eventually, with a determined shout, Kakarot managed to take one last step.
And immediately fell to the ground, unconscious.
"Such a troublesome boy…" Grandpa Gohan muttered to himself, then he scooped the child up with a sigh, and the group from Roshi's island left the restaurant without another word.
"...The kid has heart, at least." Lynn noted once the group was gone.
"Man, Tater's a jerk." Zeck muttered. The girls and I gave him a confused look.
Was Tater a jerk? In our eyes, that was debatable. He was definitely an idiot who abandoned his family, and wanted to rule over the weak as some sort of 'pseudo-god' that got everything that they wanted simply by asking, but that was only because he'd been taught to believe that was the ultimate form of achievement.
Even though we couldn't forgive him for putting that desire above his family, that particular decision wasn't so much jerk-ish as simply dumb. Incredibly dumb.
But was he a jerk to Kakarot today? Definitely not. At the end of the day, Kakarot ended up getting stronger, and he'd even gained a goal. That was just how Saiyans worked. In fact, he was almost being nice to the little guy.
But if Zeck didn't understand that after all of the time that he'd spent with us over the years, then there wasn't any explaining to do. It was simply how things were.