Rutaba’s tiny legs were on fire from crouching so long on those sharp, wobbly mountain rocks, but the six-year-old Saiyan wasn’t about to budge even a pinky toe. His crazy black hair poked out everywhere like it had its own wild ideas, all sweaty and sticking up in crazy spikes around a face that was half fierce scowl, half goofy kid grin. Those big, bright, brown eyes stayed glued to Master Zhongli’s hand, like it was hiding the best secret in the whole wide universe. No more fooling around. This was the real deal, the kind of training that made his tail twitch with that mix of scared-excited butterflies in his belly.
Whoosh-whoosh! The first two stones blasted in way quicker than before, buzzing through the air like mad hornets on a sugar rush.
He dug his feet into the ground, tail whipping behind him for balance. “Hah!” Rutaba yelled, his right palm shooting up super fast like it had a mind of its own.
CRACK!
He smacked that first rock sideways with everything he had, sending it spinning off into the prickly bushes like a runaway frisbee. A big toothy smile flashed across his face for a split second…yeah, that felt good!
But nope, the second one was already zooming right at him, way too close for comfort.
“What??? hey, gimme a break already?!”
He twisted his whole body like a wriggling worm and whipped his left palm across in a wild swat. The stone smacked his hand with a sharp stinging THWACK and shot off at a weird angle, barely missing his nose. The jolt still shoved him, skidding back, loose pebbles flying under his heels, his tail flailing all over like it was trying to lasso the wind to keep him steady.
He didn’t even get a chance to holler about the ouch before Master Zhongli’s arm went blurry again: third stone, a fast gray blur streaking straight for him.
Rutaba’s stomach flipped with that gut feeling louder than any thinking. He dove sideways, belly scraping the marble, and just barely flicked it away with a quick upward slap of his fingers. The rock whistled so close by his ear it tickled his wild hair and left this hot whoosh on his cheek like an angry dragon’s breath.
“Too fast, too fast!” he puffed out, scrambling back up in a clumsy roll that got dirt all over his knees. Sweat dripped into his eyes, making everything blurry and stingy. His heart was thump-thumping so hard in his little chest it felt like a baby drum gone crazy.
Master Zhongli was really turning up the heat today. This wasn’t about just smacking stuff with all his power anymore. It was about watching closely, getting sneaky-smart, feeling the rocks before they even got there.
Then came the big one. Ten stones, bam-bam-bam, no breaks, like the mountain itself was throwing a tantrum at him.
Rutaba’s eyes popped wide open. “Ten?! Master, that’s super duper not fair—!”
No time for whining, though. The first one rocketed right at his head like it wanted to knock his spikes flat.
He sucked in that slow breath from the quiet sitting practice, the one that made the noisy world go all soft and clear. Eyes on Zhongli’s shoulder twitch, the sneaky flick of those old fingers.
Snap! His palm cracked out and sent the first stone flying off to the side with a loud CRACK, dust puffing up where it hit the ground, far away.
He bounced sideways on his quick feet—whoosh—swatting the second one away with a sharp smack that made his wrist buzz.
Ducked down low like dodging Kaelon’s pretend punches and flicked the third one high over his head, the wind from it messing up his hair even more.
The fourth came sneaky-low. Rutaba spun quickly and slapped it off at an angle, but it still nicked his shoulder on the way out with a mean THWACK!
“OWWW! You sneaky rock!” he yelped, twisting halfway around from the hit. It burned like stepping on a hot rock barefoot, but he jammed his toes down into the dirt and stayed standing. His tail lashed madly, as if it wanted to chase the stone down and bite it. A fresh purple spot was already puffing up under his ripped-up training clothes, but Rutaba just shook his head hard, growling all tiny and fierce to himself. “Stupid rocks… I’m tougher than you!”
Fifth one—CRACK!—he batted it clean with his right hand, the jolt shooting all the way up to his elbow like tiny lightning.
Sixth—he slapped it away hard on his left, the loud smack bouncing off the rocky walls like thunder.
Seventh—he twirled mid-jump like a spinning top gone wild and redirected it just enough so it only scraped his ribs with a hot scratch.
Eighth nailed him on the thigh during the swat, THUMP, making him hiss loudly through his teeth and hop on one foot like a silly frog for a couple of seconds before he planted again, wobbly but not down.
Ninth and tenth tried to team up like bully brothers. He whacked the ninth upward with a big, wild swing that made his arm ache, but the tenth slipped past a little and bounced off his chest after he knocked it sideways, stealing his breath in a big whoof.
Rutaba staggered back, coughing and wheezing, his arms and shoulders all throbby and hot. Scrapes on his knees and elbows stung like fire ants having a party. For a tiny moment, he looked just like any other grubby six-year-old who’d gotten tumbled around good—dusty, bruised, breathing hard with watery eyes.
But then that deep-down Saiyan spark flared up bigger than ever, like a firework in his belly.
His grin exploded back across his face, all wild and toothy with those sharp little fangs showing. He let out a breathless giggle that turned into a full laugh, chest still heaving. “Heh… hehehehe… okay okay, I think I gotcha now!”
He dropped right back into his stance, knees all bent and bouncy, hands up and ready, tail swishing behind him like an excited battle flag waving in the wind. His bright eyes sparkled with that fresh “aha!” feeling. No more just smashing everything like a hammer. He had to sense the stones coming, watch those tiny hints, stay light and zippy on his feet like a real tricky warrior.
Rutaba wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his grubby hand, leaving a dirty streak across his face, and hollered up at Master Zhongli with all that bursting six-year-old fire and brand-new confidence mixing.
“Throw more, Master! Come on, I’m not even tired yet! I’m gonna deflect every single one next round, and then I’m gonna be the strongest, fastest defender Earth’s ever had! You’ll see—nobody’s getting past me! Just watch, I’m gonna make ‘em all fly away like scared birds!”
He bounced on the balls of his feet, little legs shaky but full of that never-quit energy, bruises throbbing but ignored. That’s how Saiyan kids rolled—they got knocked silly, laughed it off with messy giggles, and came charging back even wilder, ready to turn the whole mountain into their playground.
The wind whipped around his small frame as he waited there, dirt-streaked and unbreakable, a pint-sized whirlwind of spikes and spirit just itching to prove it all over again.
