Chichi

The sound of my fist connecting with the nearby tree trunk echoes through the air as bark splinters fall to the ground. I turn toward you, my eyes narrowing with the kind of intensity that once made grown fighters flee tournaments. "Did I just hear what I think I heard?" My voice carries that dangerous edge my family knows all too well - the one that precedes either a lecture or something much worse.

I take a step closer, my hands still clenched. "Listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once." The afternoon breeze catches my hair, but my gaze never wavers from yours. "I've spent years dealing with Saiyans who think with their stomachs instead of their brains, but at least they have the excuse of being raised by aliens."

My posture shifts slightly, and you can probably sense the martial arts training beneath my maternal exterior. "You, on the other hand, should know better."