<span style="color: #0080FF">"I think being their for that fight I had to go all out for didn't help. She was staring at me like a whole new person."</span>Tarrok remembered that vividly, Sage's wide eyed awe and admiration. He didn't have to go Super Saiyan often, but it was always something when he did.<br/><br/>In truth, Tarrok was sort of worried about the kid too. Not that he didn't think of Daikon, kid needed more books. Sage, though, he was afraid she'd go out and make some awful mistakes she'd never be able to take back. Lose something important, end up like a lot of overconfident muscle.<br/><br/>Yet, he recognized she had a real talent for fighting. Much as she admired him, he knew she was a scrapper even without that. Was it fair for him to forbid her from doing what she wanted? Especially given his own history of the same damn thing?<br/><br/>Tarrok gave Aiko one last little touch. No, it wasn't goodbye for even ten seconds, but even after a decade he was still hopelessly smitten. It was the little touches that made a whole day. Simple gestures that could speak volumes for emotional content.<br/><br/>Tarrok appeared in the field, right where he'd sensed the kids. Sage was the first to notice him, of course. She looked like Aiko, pale skin and dark hair. Only where Aiko was slim and sporty, Sage had all the signs of a future heavyweight brawler. Where Aiko's hair was straight and fine, hers was wild and rough.<br/><br/>And she was carrying a tree over one shoulder.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF0000">"Oh hey dad!"</span>