DRAGON BALL MASTER : Next Generation Saga

Episode 15 : Uncovering Secrets

KRILLIN'S DOJO OF REGRET

Marron stormed out of the dojo, tears streaming down her face. Her steps echoed against the polished wooden floors of the Turtle School dojo, each one a testament to the growing rift between her and her father. Behind her, the heavy door slammed shut, muffling the sound of her sobs and leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

Inside, Krillin stood amidst the wreckage, his breathing heavy and ragged. The dojo, a symbol of his commitment to martial arts and a tribute to Master Roshi, now lay in disarray. Wooden training dummies lay shattered, mats were overturned, and fragments of broken equipment were scattered across the floor. The faint smell of sweat and the acrid scent of frustration hung in the air.

Krillin's fists clenched at his sides, his face twisted with frustration and self-loathing. His mind raced with memories and regrets, each one more painful than the last. He began to clean up, his movements slow and methodical, reflecting the turmoil within.

"Why couldn't I be stronger?" he muttered to himself, sweeping debris into a pile with deliberate, almost ritualistic strokes. "I'm not like Goku. I'm not like Vegeta. Hell, I'm not even like Gohan. They all have this... this fire, this drive to keep getting stronger, to protect everyone."

His thoughts drifted to Master Roshi, his old teacher who had sacrificed so much for them. The Turtle School dojo had been rebuilt in his honor, a testament to his teachings and his ultimate sacrifice. But Krillin felt he was failing to live up to that legacy.

"I couldn't even protect 18," he continued, his voice cracking. "She's out there, somewhere, and I'm here, playing at being a teacher. What kind of husband am I?"

Krillin slammed the broom against the wall, the sound echoing through the empty dojo like a gunshot. "I used to be someone who could stand alongside the greatest fighters in the universe. Now... I don't even know who I am."

As if summoned by Krillin's despair, Yamcha appeared in the doorway. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, highlighting the lines of worry etched into Krillin's face. Yamcha watched his old friend silently for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Hey, Krillin. You okay, man?"

Krillin looked up, surprise flashing across his face. "Yamcha? What are you doing here?"

"I heard about the dojo and thought I'd check it out," Yamcha said, stepping inside. "Looks like I came at a bad time."

Krillin sighed, leaning the broom against the wall. "It's just... everything's a mess. I'm a mess. Marron's mad at me, and I can't seem to get anything right."

Yamcha nodded, understanding. "Yeah, I've been there. You know, feeling like you're not measuring up. It's tough."

"That's putting it mildly," Krillin replied, shaking his head. "I feel like I've lost my way. I can't keep up with the others anymore. And 18... I don't even know where she is."

Yamcha walked over and put a hand on Krillin's shoulder, the weight of his touch grounding him. "Hey, you've always been the heart of the team. The rest of us might have the power, but you've got the spirit. That's what keeps us going."

"Spirit doesn't save lives," Krillin said bitterly. "It doesn't bring 18 back."

Yamcha paused, thinking carefully before he spoke. "Maybe not. But it gives you the strength to keep trying. And that's what you need to do. For Marron, for yourself, and for 18."

Krillin looked at his friend, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. "You really think so?"

"I know so," Yamcha said firmly. "You've faced worse than this and come out stronger. You just need to remember who you are."