The triplets had never been this excited in their entire lives. They skipped and jumped and ran around as if they would burst with adrenaline.

They were so adorable when they were this excited; even though it was pain when I wanted them to sit still.

The whole way there, they kept talking and giggling. Even Aizel, who was not one for talk, was extremely animated.

We touched down on the tiled floor of the world tournament. The triplets resisted the urge to run off and challenge random people to fights.

We discovered at once that we were not the only ones with the idea to come to the tournament. Practically everyone we knew was there; Krillin, Eighteen, Piccolo, Gohan, Pan, Trunks… all of them.

Once they saw us, they ran to greet us.

“Goku, you’re going to fight too?” Krillin asked after the casual hellos ensued. His eyes wondered away from me for a moment to look at the little girl in Vegeta’s arms as well as the boys at his feet. They all stared at him blankly.

He stepped away from me, uninterested it seemed, in my answer. He didn’t need to stoop that low to be on the children’s level. “Hey, guys,” He said softly.

The boys cocked their heads at the same time and in the same direction. They did a lot of things at the same time; as if they planned their actions to be in sync.

“Mornin’!” Vienna chipped from above them.

He looked up, seeming surprised. “Oh, uh, good morning. What’s your name?”

“Vienna,” She replied, “Those are my brothers; Lysander and Aizel.” She paused for a moment before changing the subject. “Are you going to fight in the tournament?”

He nodded mutely. “Yeah; are you?”

She nodded. “I’m going to win!”

The boys turned at once. “Are not!” They cried.

“Are so!”

“Are not!” They insisted.

She leapt from Vegeta’s grasp. “Are so!”

“And what makes you think you’re going to win?” Lysander inquired.

“Because I’m smart,” She said bluntly.

He scoffed. “You’re not smart! You’re just…” He trailed off, thinking, “You’re just-”

“A sister!” Aizel finished for him.

They nodded in agreement.

“That was an insult?” She asked, straightening. “Give me a break.”

“Guys, be nice.” I said gently.

They all turned to me, seeming surprised. “But Da promised twenty whole dollars to the winner!” They proclaimed.

I turned to Vegeta with a glare. “Why?” I asked.

He looked around, pretending to not know who I was talking to. “I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

I sighed and turned back to Krillin. “How have you been Krillin?”

He seemed perplexed. “Ah… good.” He beckoned for me to move in closer to him. “Who are these kids?” He whispered.

It donned on me that we had not told anyone else about what had happened. The only people that knew were our families; and Piccolo.

I sighed deeply. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.” And with that, the conversation dropped for another time.

At the moment, I was starving. After we registered, we all went to eat until we couldn’t anymore.

The triplets ate a lot; much more than any normal child would, I suppose. The waiters seemed overwhelmed by our presence.

But they were particular about what they ate and how they ate them.

For one, Aizel was diligent about how his food was separated. He would demand separate plates for all the different food that was the same color. One plate would have only green things; another plate only brown; and so on and so forth. If any of the colors were to mix, he became very upset.

And Lysander; he would take all his food and mix it together into a mess before he ate it. I guess he figured that it was all going to the same place, so it didn’t really matter.

But Vienna was our little breath of fresh air. She would eat pretty much anything.

I watched as Vienna leaned over the table and put a piece of broccoli onto Aizel’s ‘white plate’; the plate only used for white food.

He sighed with frustration and threw it back at her. He turned to me, mouth wide. “Papa, she’s mixing my colors!” he cried with dismay.

“Vienna, stop mixing his colors. You know he likes it all in a particular order.” I said in a tone that was very unthreatening. I took a bite of my hamburger.

She giggled. “I don’t care if my colors are mixed,” She took a drink of her soda.

He glared at her and took a bite of his chicken, carefully putting it back onto his ‘brown plate’.

Lysander managed to snag a whole handful of ketchup packets from the waiter’s pocket. He was currently mixing it with his food, creating a pinkish mess on his plate.

“That’s ucky, Lysander!” Pan told him with a giggle before she began to do the same with her food.

Aizel rolled his eyes, disgusted that they would mix colors like that.

Once we had eaten, we went outside to wonder a bit before the tournament began.

“Papa my feet hurt!” Lysander suddenly cried and put up his arms.

I picked him up, putting him onto my shoulders.

Aizel saw this, and put his arms up as well; dancing a little bit when I didn’t pick him up right away.

Vienna too wanted to be held. It was hard to hold all three of them at the same time, actually. They squirmed a lot, and had the tendency to kick when they were excited.

Before they got too antsy, something caught their attention.

The ice cream man.

They all began talking at once; Bra and Pan joining in on the conversation of nonsense. They went on and on about what kinds of ice cream they wanted, how much money they needed, how they wanted to order it themselves…

I looked at Vegeta, and he shrugged his shoulders, moving to walk away and let me deal with it.

“Hey, guys,” I said with sly smile. “Da has all the money in his pocket.”

He turned just in time to be tackled to the ground. “Kakorot!” He cried angrily. “Get off me, you brats!”

I stood aside, laughing and they crawled all over him, begging him for the money he didn’t even have.

Eventually, he convinced them that he had no cash whatsoever, they dispersed, crowding around Bulma instead.

I helped him to his feet.

“Why?!” He demanded eyes narrowed.

I laughed slightly. “Because it was funny.”

He crossed his arms and began to stalk off in some random direction.

I chased after him. “Oh, c’mon! It was funny!”

After they had all received ice cream, and they were all content with their choice, they feel silent, enjoying their treats.

As they were eating, a thought struck Vienna.

“Papa, where do babies come from?” she asked with orange push-pop all over her face.

I glanced at Vegeta, and then to Bulma, and then all the rest of my friends.

“Do they really come from a stort?” She asked when I hesitated.

“A what?” I cocked my head.

“A stort!” She repeated. “It’s a big bird that carries around babies to people.”

“Oh, a stork.” I replied. “Yes, babies come from storks.” My gaze shifted to Vegeta, pleading for his help. He paid me no mind.

She cocked her head. “But how do storts have baby people?”

“Oh, look; we’re at the locker room.” I said, pushing her gently off to the door in which Pan and Bra were entering.

She swerved, trying to fallow me into the boy’s locker room. “I don’t want to go in there. I want to go with you.”

“You can’t,” I said simply.

“Why?”

“Because this side is for boys only.”

“So?”

It occurred to me that she may not even realize that she was a girl. She lived in a house with four boys; she had never thought of herself as anything but ‘one of the guys’.

I crouched down. “Well, you’re a girl.”

She frowned slightly. “So…?”

“Boys and girls are different.”

“How?”

I sighed deeply. “I’ll explain it to you later. Just go with Videl, Bra and Pan; we’ll meet you on the other side.”

She stamped her foot, on the verge of a tantrum. “Explain it to me now!”

“Vienna,” Vegeta finally spoke up. “Do as Papa says.”

She sighed, her frustration dissipating, and fallowed the other girls into the locker room.

I straightened. “That was awkward.”

He nodded, not replying.

Once inside the tournament walls, my adrenaline began to pump as well. I couldn’t wait until the adult competition. I couldn’t wait until Vegeta and I had the chance to beat the shit out of each other.

We hadn’t spared in a while; each of us training in his own way to prepare. So now, I was itching for a challenge.

When we met up with the girls again, Vienna seemed to have forgotten about the little spat outside the locker room. She was currently socializing with her brothers; uninteresting to what the other girls had to say. She was defiantly my little tomboy.

The children’s competition was first.

The triplets were all determine to win. I found myself wishing that Vegeta had not bribed them with money. The money didn’t even matter, I don’t think, because they were more interesting in getting his approval.

They always fought for his attention. They weren’t so willing to jump through hoops for my own, though, because I was much more willing to give it to them. With him, though, they had to earn it. They had to stand out somehow.

I don’t think he did it on purpose; he didn’t understand why I wanted his attention, let alone the children. He didn’t see any reason why anyone would want to get his affection, or his praise, so he saw no reason to give it.

Or perhaps he did it on purpose to push them just a little bit harder.

Whatever he did, though, it drove them to do their best.

After the names were put in order, and all the kids separated into weight classes, the tournament began.

We stood up in the bleachers, watching intently.

The kids all came out and stood in a line. Just twelve of them; four of them with us. This year’s tournament was pretty small.

When the guy went to give the boys their numbers, he had to pause and look at the sheet before he simply asked which one was which. I laughed at this, and Vegeta snorted. It was funny because we’d made it a point to dress them differently that morning.

Finally, the fighting began.

The first round was Lysander against a boy twice his size. After the bell had went off, Lysander’s gaze wondered out into the audience, his attention deteriorating.

His eyes fell on Vegeta and I, and he waved.

The other boy saw this as the perfect moment to attack.

Lysander turned just in time to head butt the other boy in the jaw.

I heard it crack from my position in the bleachers. I couldn’t help but cringe. I knew that hurt.

The boy fell to the ground walling.

Lysander cocked his head. He’d done that to Aizel literally hundreds of times, and he’d never fell to the ground and cried.

He crossed in arms in a fashion that was so much like Vegeta’s own stance it was scary. He seemed to be waiting for the boy to suck it up before they continued.

Obviously, though, the boy was done. The medics came and haled him off, leaving Lysander to stand there, confused. He finally just went back into the lobby to sit with the other children.

Next were two boys that I didn’t know. They fought, but I wasn’t paying attention to who had won.

“My attention is dwindling…” Vegeta muttered to me in Siayan, “Dwindling… Gone.” He said with a punctual nod. “Let’s go get some nachos,”

I shushed him and continued to watch the fight.

Finally, something interesting happened.

Pan and Aizel were put up against each other. I knew he would not hold back. I knew she didn’t stand a chance. There would be many tears later on.

The bell rang, and he charged at her, intending to strike fast and hard.

She put up her hands, and by some strike of luck, managed to block nearly all of his attacks. He finally got her in the head.

She fell to the ground and skidded across the stadium floor, landing at the other side of the ring. She sat up, an ugly bruise already forming on her forehead. “Aizel!” She cried angrily as she stood back up. “That was mean!”

He faltered, not knowing how to react to this. They had never fought before, so someone calling him ‘mean’ during a fight was completely knew to him.

She charged at him, going for his stomach.

He dodged out of the way, snapping out of his daze.

The three year old was fast, but not fast enough to keep her uncle at his wits end.

Eventually, the tournament ended when he spiked her hard to the side of the head, knocking her out of the ring and onto the grass. She sat up, glared at him, and then stalked back into the lobby.

He fallowed after, scratching his head in the same fashion I myself did.

The tournament continued, and Pan came to join us in the audience.

“I lost, Papa.” She said a matter-of-factly.

“You did a good job, though.”

“But I lost,”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t mater if you loose; as long as you tried.”

She sighed, leaning her head on the side of her face that was not purple and swollen. “Aizel’s really strong,” She stated absently.

I nodded. “He’s older than you, though.”

“I’m going to beat him, someday.” She declared. “I’m going to make his face hurt!”

I grinned. “Go for it.”

She nodded, indicating that she intended to do just that.

In the ring, a few more matched passed before one of ours actually appeared. This time it was Vienna’s turn.

They must have looked at all the children and found the biggest one there in order to ‘take her out’, I suppose. This kid was huge; probably even bigger than Krillin.

She had to crane her neck to look at him.

I had a moment when I truly felt like he would hurt her somehow; but then the thought was abolished as soon as the bell rang. He was a human. There was no way he would be able to do anything to her other than salt her with tears.

It took her no time at all to bring the boy to the ground and sit atop him with his leg pinned beneath him and his arm twisted back, as he cried and begged her to let him go.

When the bell rang again, she hopped to her feet and skipped back to the lobby.

Eventually, only the triplets remained.

The crowed seemed to have taken bets on who would win. One guy even asked me my opinion. I told him that I thought the one with the messy black hair would win. He went to see which one I meant, and then realized they all had messy black hair.

In the ring, the boys were put against each other.

This was nothing like the fights at home. At home, it didn’t matter who won on that particular day. All that mattered was that they’d had fun. Here, though, there was the pressure to win from both the crowd and from us.

The bell rang again. That sound was becoming annoying.

They charged tactfully, meeting in the middle, where they attacked and fought each other for several minutes. Finally, they parted.

They stared at each other for a moment, each trying to intimidate the other. They put their hands up at the same time, obviously both having the same idea, and wriggled their fingers, making growling noises.

We all laughed out loud. They were so much more adorable then they intended to be, I think.

They put their hands down at the same time, and took a few paces to the left, fallowing an invisible circle.

It was like watching a western movie; except they were the exact same person staring each other down. I felt like one of them needed to be dressed in all black, the other white.

They charged again, meeting in the middle once more.

This cycle of stopping and starting began to become routine; until they became tired. They seemed to just say ‘Fuck it’ and went at each other, each hopping to tire the other one out until they had the upper hand.

They began to rise in the air, the crowd becoming over-excited by the spectacle.

They were too evenly matched, though. They knew each other too well. They had some kind of weird connection that they did not fully share with Vienna; something much deeper than the fact that they were brothers.

They were, in a sense, the same person. They had the same face, the same body, the same eyes, the same mannerisms, the same ideas; the same everything.

They would finish each other’s sentences; know what the other was thinking before the thought left his mouth; knew when the other was upset or scared.

And yet, they were completely different people.

Their personalities were so vastly contrasted that sometimes, I would forget that they were brothers.

The fight went on, the two of them clashing and contradicting each other until finally, after nearly an hour, something broke.

Literally, something broke.

Lysander managed to knock his brother onto the ring from their position in the air. Aizel landed hard onto the tournament floor, right onto his arm.

I more felt it snap more than heard it. I stomach dropped.

I saw him roll, sitting back up, his mouth open wide with pain. His eyes squeezed shut as he held his wrist to his chest.

Lysander stopped immediately, knowing at once that he was not faking it.

Aizel screamed, his feet kicking in an effort to both dispel his agony and get himself back up to his feet.

I froze myself, wishing at once that it were me in pain, and not him.

After a moment, he stopped, and rose, letting the appendage fall to his side. His chest heaved as he got over the initial shock of pain he had experienced. He had probably never felt anything like that. He probably didn’t know what he should do.

Now severely compensating, he went on.

“Aizel seems to want to continue, folks!” The announcer said over the intercom. “What a trooper!”

“He’s going to make it swell up,” Vegeta muttered beside me. I nodded in agreement.

“Should we stop it?” Gohan asked, eyebrows pulled down in worry.

I shook my head.

“Let them eat cake.” Vegeta said casually, not taking his eyes off the ring.

Neither of us would dare stop the fight, though. We wouldn’t think of doing that to any of them.

Down in the ring, Lysander seemed unsure of what to do. He was faced with the dilemma of either attacking, or forfeiting. He seemed unwilling to do either one.

The look on Aizel’s face seemed to say ‘Finish it’, but Lysander would not.

Finally, Aizel made the first move. He swung, his left side wide open, and stepped forward, his balance off. He wouldn’t be able to fight like that for long; not if Lys decided he should retaliate.

And retaliate he did.

With one fierce kick, Aizel was knocked out of the ring.

My heart went out to him. He had fought hard, and it sucked that he lost in the end.

The medics came just in case he needed to be carried out. He got up on his own, though, and went to shake his brother’s hand. They bowed slightly, and Aizel took his leave.

I made a mental note to give him some kind of reward when we got home; the last red Popsicle maybe; the one that Vegeta had insisted be saved for himself.

Finally, the final match began.

Lysander just had to beat Vienna, and he would win.

But he was tired. I could see he was close to dropping from the last fight. He kept stumbling around, his legs threatening to give out.

Vienna, on the other hand, was fresh as a daisy.

The match began, and at first, neither of them moved.

Vienna seemed to be wondering if it were right to attack him; since he was so close to being knocked out as it was.

After a few moment seconds, she finally went after him. He blocked many of her attacks; and would have gotten more if he hadn’t been so tired.

But that was how the game was played. It didn’t matter how tired you were; if you were just one spot away from winning, there was no ‘Let me ketch my breath’.

She landed a punch to his face, which he absorbed with little notice. He took a step back, so near the edge I cringed. If he stepped out of the ring, he was sure to be pissed for weeks.

She got him again in his stomach, and then again to his head.

He couldn’t win. He was too tired, and she was too determined to win.

Finally, he just seemed to give up. He let himself fall to the ground, his tail unwinding from around his waist. This seemed to indicate, to her, that he did not want to fight anymore.

She stepped back, and let her arms fall.

The bell rung. The tournament was over. She had won.

The crowd cheered, standing up from their seats.

I was disappointed, as I knew I would be. Even if Lysander had won, I would have been disappointed, though. They couldn’t all win, but I wanted so badly for that to be the case. That way no one was upset.

Even though he had lost, he and his sister touched their knuckles together in a manner that seemed to say ‘Good game’.

I hadn’t expected them to take losing so well; we had practically drilled good sportsmanship into their heads, but I never thought they would take to it so easily. In their minds, they had already gotten over who had won, and were already back to their normal sibling rivalry.

They approached us later, looking pretty well adjusted.

“You guys did such a good job,” I said.

They didn’t acknowledge the compliment. “Papa, my hand hurts!” Aizel showed me his hand, which was wrapped in a blue splint. “It went snap!”

I nodded. “I hear it.” I looked at it for a moment before kissing it. “Better?”

“Yeah,” He said, pulling it back to look at it himself.

Pan ran to them and jumped onto Lysander’s back. “You’re guy’s fight was so cool!” she said.

“Thanks,” He said, “Your’s was to.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t even see mine! And besides, it was not as cool as yours!”

He didn’t argue with her anymore.

“You did good, kids,” Piccolo said gruffly.

They all jumped and looked up at him, obviously noticing him for the first time.

“You’re really tall,” Vienna said, coking her head.

“I know.” He said, a ghost of a smirk coming to his lips.

“Do you hit your head on stuff?” Lysander asked.

He nodded. “Sometimes... not often.”

“Oh.” They all said at the same time.

“How come you’re green?” Vienna finally asked.

“I’m not a human.”

They seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “Okay!” they cried, seeming to see this answer as perfectly acceptable.

I smiled at him and he smirked back. They were pretty quick to accept just about anything; which made my job pretty easy.

Now it was time for the adults to compete. I couldn’t wait; and I knew Vegeta could hardly contain himself either. Whenever he was excited about something, he grew really quiet, as if going over and over in his head exactly how he would go about it.

I wondered who would win. I hoped I would; but I wouldn’t mind of one of the others did. Regardless of who won; I knew this would be a pretty interesting competition.