I tore through space. I'd done this so many times by now that it barely felt strange anymore, just me, the emptiness, and the stars. It only took 8 hours before the planet came into view. New Namek.
As I dropped into the atmosphere, I felt that distinct shift from endless cold to humid warmth, the wind swirling in my hair. A Namekian village spotted the horizon, those round white huts in clusters, farmland spread between them.
I settled into a slow glide, scanning for signs of Moori, the new Elder. Last I saw him, I'd offered to take the Namekians to the Toriko universe for a safer life, but they'd said no. Their roots ran too deep, I guess. Couldn't blame them for wanting to rebuild on their own terms.
My boots touched down outside one of the larger villages, near the center of a farmland ringed with short, plump trees. The Namekians had definitely been busy: the fields were organized, crops sprouting, and I spotted a few kids playing tag between the huts. As soon as they spotted me, they froze, their antennae twitching.
"Celera?" a tentative voice came from behind me. I turned to see one of the Namekian adults stepping out of a hut, wearing loose robes. His green skin looked a bit weathered, but there was no mistaking the curiosity in his eyes.
"It's been a while," I said, raising a hand in greeting. "Is Moori around?"
He took a moment to study me, probably making sure I wasn't there to blow anything up. Then he nodded. "Elder Moori is in the central building."
Namekian villages all looked pretty similar. "Thanks."
I walked, taking in the sight of Namek's second chance. They were rebuilding fast. The kids from earlier trailed behind me at a safe distance, whispering among themselves.
The door to the central building slid open as I walked in. The inside was cool. I spotted Moori right away. He sat in a throne, speaking softly to a Namekian child. When he sensed me, he looked up, and a small smile crossed his face.
"Celera," he said, voice polite but with a warm undertone. "I wasn't expecting to see you here so soon."
"Yeah," I cleared my throat, not entirely sure how to handle going about asking for the dragon balls without being rude. "Anyway, I came to use your Dragon Balls." I shrugged. "I had… a few things I need to do that only it would be able to help me with."
He stood up, clasping his hands behind his back. "I see. And you know that the Dragon Balls only become active after a certain period of dormancy, correct?"
I rubbed my temple. "Yeah, I was hoping that might've changed. since you are the new elder that might've sped things up."
His eyes flickered with apology. "While this is true, we have already used them two days ago. I'm afraid they won't be ready for another five months."
"Five months." I repeated it with a sigh. Great. "Alright. So, basically, I'm outta luck for now."
Moori offered a sympathetic dip of his head. "I'm sorry. Had I known you were coming, I would have reserved a wish for you."
I raised a hand, cutting him off before he could apologize more. "Don't worry about it. I'll manage." Leaning against the wall, I glanced around at the small group of Namekians who had gathered. They were probably wondering what I was here for. "So how is everything going?"
He gestured for me to follow him outside. "Things are going well, Though it is a shame we had lost Nail, now I have selected a few young members from the warrior clan to take over his role. While our crops grow well. It's… peaceful."
The sky was bright as we stepped out. A gentle breeze rustled the fields. A few Namekians gave me wary glances, but for the most part, they kept on with their work, hauling water, tending the fields, and patching up walls.
We walked toward a quiet spot by a rocky outcrop. It gave a view of the entire village, with farmland stretching into the distance. Moori folded his arms, turning to me.
"How long do you plan to stay?" he asked.
I let out a long breath. "I'm not sure. Originally, I wanted to handle some… personal business with the Dragon Balls. But if they're off-limits for five months, I might either stick around or head off again." I gave him a half-smile.
He studied me a moment before continuing. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like. We owe you a great debt for helping to free us from Frieza. Our community might be modest, but we'll do what we can to accommodate a guest." Then a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "If memory serves, though, you're not one to enjoy sitting still."
That made me huff out a laugh. "You got that right. Sitting around isn't exactly my strong suit. But maybe I could… help out here?"
He seemed surprised, then pleased. "That would be most welcome. Actually, some of our new guardians could use help training."
I nodded back. "No problem." My tail swished behind me, stirring up leftover dust. "Funny enough, I've been teaching more lately than fighting"
I brushed my hands together. "So who will I be teaching?"
Moori's expression warmed with genuine gratitude as he motioned toward a large hut near the edge of the village. "Come, I'll introduce you to the young warriors who are to succeed Nail. They've trained diligently, but they're still inexperienced. Perhaps your teachings will strengthen their skills."
"Sure," I said, stretching lazily as I followed Moori toward the hut. Teaching wasn't exactly my favorite activity, but it beat sitting around waiting for five months to pass. Plus, Namekians were quick learners, if they put their minds to it, at least, I hoped.
Inside the hut, five younger Namekians awaited us. They stood straight-backed, attentive but cautious. I could see they'd been taught discipline already; their eyes were sharp, appraising, each of them sizing me up. Good. At least they weren't scared.
"This is Celera," Moori introduced calmly, his hands clasped behind his back as usual. "She is here to assist in your training. She helped save our people from Frieza's wrath."
I gave a small nod, keeping it casual. "Just here to help out."
One of the warriors stepped forward, taller and broader-shouldered than the others. "I am Tsumuri," he stated plainly, eyes locked on mine. "We've heard about your strength. What can you teach us that we don't already know?"
I smirked, amused by his bluntness. "Straight to the point, I like that, Much better than Mark." My gaze flicked over to Moori. "You mind if we step outside? The best way to learn is through demonstration."
Moori gave an approving nod, stepping aside to let me pass. "As you wish."
Outside, the warriors spread out around me in a loose circle, cautious and curious. Without wasting words, I cracked my knuckles and studied Tsumuri. "Attack me."
He blinked, surprised for just a moment, before narrowing his eyes and settling into a fighting stance. He rushed forward, his punch fast and solid.
My hand shot forward, gently pressing two fingers against his shoulder, his arm freezing mid-swing. His eyes widened as his arm fell limp to his side.
"What—what did you do?" He stared at his numb arm in shock.
"Knocking," I explained plainly, releasing the pressure point by striking it again and restoring the feeling in his arm. "It's a technique from another universe. Disrupts nerve functions from a few hours to a few days depending on how much ki is applied to immobilize targets without causing permanent damage."
The group murmured softly among themselves. Tsumuri flexed his fingers experimentally, clearly impressed but not wanting to openly admit it.
"Useful," he conceded quietly. "You can teach us this?"
I nodded. "It takes practice and a good understanding of anatomy. But yeah, it's learnable."
And so our training began in earnest.
Days melted into weeks. Time passed smoothly, blending into a steady rhythm. The Namekian warriors weren't just disciplined; they were relentless in their pursuit of perfection. Every morning, we'd gather near a rocky outcrop overlooking vast fields. I'd explain pressure points and the flow of ki in living beings, breaking down complex anatomy into practical terms.
Each warrior learned at their own pace, but Tsumuri stood out, always questioning, always seeking perfection. I respected that, even though his constant barrage of questions was sometimes annoying. But the others learned quickly as well; soon, they could immobilize limbs, slow down their opponent's breathing, or even halt their movements entirely.
Though our sessions were intense, the Namekians often shifted the conversations to deeper matters. Between sessions, they spoke quietly, meditated, and discussed their philosophies. They weren't warriors who fought for the sake of fighting. They fought to protect, to preserve their culture and their way of life.
Over meals, the whole village gathered and I found myself sitting among them more often. At first, their constant gentle discussions of morality and spirituality bored me. But as the days went by, it became clear they were subtly trying to teach me something in return.
One evening after a long sparring session, Moori approached quietly as I sat watching the suns dip below the horizon.
"You train well with them," he remarked softly. "They've improved quickly under your guidance."
"Fast learners," I shrugged, glancing up. "It's all on them."
He settled next to me calmly, watching the peaceful village bathed in twilight. "You have a restless soul, Celera. I see it clearly. But there is great darkness within you, but I sense a deeper good as well."
I laughed, a short, humorless sound. "You're starting to sound like Kami, Moori. I know when I die, I'm going to Hell. Not exactly something I can fix."
Moori's gentle eyes stayed on me. "You believe your fate is sealed. Yet you fight for good causes, protect others, and help rebuild communities you once helped save. Perhaps your soul isn't as doomed as you think."
"Maybe," I admitted grudgingly. "Doesn't change the reality of things, though."
He smiled knowingly, seemingly unbothered by my dismissive attitude. "If you accept darkness as your destiny, darkness is all you'll ever have. If you embrace the possibility of change, you might find redemption."
I stayed silent. Redemption wasn't something I'd ever thought about seriously. Fighting was one thing, cleansing my soul? That was another level entirely. I looked at Moori from the corner of my eye. "You Namekians sure enjoy preaching," I grumbled, half-smirking.
He chuckled softly, unbothered. "Only when we see hope. You're welcome here anytime, Celera."
"Thanks," I said finally, my voice quieter than I'd intended. "I'll think about it."
He smiled, nodding gently. "That's all we ask."
Weeks continued rolling by, filled with knocking drills, anatomy lessons, conversations, and peaceful evenings. They grew skilled, knocking each other harmlessly to the ground and back up again, their confidence growing with each successful strike.
When the first month drew to a close, Moori once again approached me, standing beside me as we watched Tsumuri effortlessly knock down another warrior during training. The elder seemed pleased, nodding approvingly at their progress.
"You've done much good here, Celera. They've grown stronger, wiser," Moori said quietly. "And perhaps you've grown as well."
I shifted uncomfortably. "They're good fighters now," I deflected simply.
"Yes. But they've learned more than knocking," he stated, voice thoughtful. "They've learned from your strength, your dedication."
I snorted softly, turning away to hide my discomfort at the praise. "Maybe."
Moori placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, his voice calm. "Remember: your path isn't fixed. There is always room for redemption, no matter how far you've walked in darkness. Your soul isn't doomed unless you surrender it to despair."
I paused, thinking on his words seriously for once. Could I change? Was it even worth trying, given how stained my soul already was? But deep down, beneath layers of cynicism and bravado, part of me wanted to believe him.
"We'll see," I murmured finally, meeting Moori's calm eyes evenly. "But for now, let's keep knocking drills going. There's still work to do."
He smiled knowingly, stepping back. "Very well, Teacher."