02x24 - Tears Swelling

[bunniefuu]

I'm gonna show you something
you can see even from way up there.

You see this. I know you do.

And what about you, Dad?

You're watching, right?

I figured this would make you proud.

This goes way, way back.

It's from T. rex's greatest rival,
Triceratops!

The dynamism
of the young man's movements...

...the heaviness of his feet
as he planted them,

the look that conveyed
an ancient fighting spirit

all combined to make
the beast's giant form manifest.

Its immeasurable strength.

Its massive, earth-shaking weight.

Its weaponry of death and destruction.

Everyone there was convinced
they saw them.

It's unbelievable!

You can say that again.

The thing is huge.

So tall! It's at least 26 feet!

In his father's eyes,

imbued as they were
with almost godlike perception,

the physical body of the young man himself
suddenly dissipates,

and only the illusion Baki created
with his will takes visible form.

As a child,
Yujiro had often thought of them.

As he awakened to his body's strength,
he often thought of them.

In truth, even as a full-fledged adult,
he often thought of them.

And as he did, he wondered...

Just how strong
were these things anyway?

Come at me.

Come on, I'm ready.

In fact, I've been dreaming of this!

Come at me!

And so
Baki launched his attack,

one he'd never used before,

Triceratops Fist!

Look at that!

Oh my God!

Watch out!

- They flipped the damn thing!
- Extraordinary!

For someone of your size and weight

to be able to push around someone like me,

who weighs a lot more than 200 pounds,

and to flip a van and tear up
half the street while you're doing it,

well, that was more
than just your own strength.

I loved feeling
that raw, primitive power.

Now, then.

I'm not saying
you haven't come a long way,

'cause you have,

but there's a much
more powerful fist form than that one.

Hmph.

I'll explain it to ya.

Yushoken imitates
the bear's fighting style, right?

Kokeiken is derived
from the tiger's force.

Toroken imitates
the fighting style of the mantis.

And then
there's what you just came up with,

Kyoryuken.

It could well be a stronger variation,

but you're still
just imitating the real thing.

Well, that's interesting.

What's your point exactly?

Are you watching?

This is the greatest form fist of all.

Having mocked Baki's form fist,
he performed one of his own.

What... what kind of movements
are those? What's he imitating?

You idiot!

These moves aren't anything!
I'm just making them up!

You are?

Huh?

What was hell that?

What the hell?

Okay, now I get it.

That's so totally you, Dad.

Now it's getting really weird!

The strongest fist form would be the one
that imitates the strongest beast of all.

And, of course, that would be

Yujiro Hanma!

That's the shape
of the light we just saw!

That's right, son.

Nothing that has ever lived
is stronger than this.

He's probably right.

One second he's just standing there,

and the next he lets loose
a blast of energy.

Some kind of invisible force
that slammed right through me.

It felt like pure power.

His roundhouse made
a perfect arc through the air,

and just like with the punch,

an invisible force was let loose
all around him.

And then he sent it blasting outwards.

It became visible
as it gained physical form.

Whoa!

He's right,
that's a hard one to beat.

The Yujiro Fist
performed by Yujiro Hanma himself.

It was beautiful, powerful, natural.

The real thing imitating itself.

There's no other fist form
that could be more natural.

How was that? Was my form all right?

What do you think?

You have a fist
as impressive as Yujiro Hanma's.

You have muscles as powerful as Yujiro.

You have the speed of Yujiro.

Yujiro Hanma as performed by Yujiro Hanma,
I mean, it's bound to be perfect.

But, Dad?

What, son?

A fist form's value isn't judged
by its appearance.

Huh? What's it judged by, then,

if not by appearances?

Huh. Looks like
I'm gonna have to teach you.

Dad a fist form's only as good
as its usefulness in battle.

And to think I'd have to
teach my own father that.

The irony, right?

sh*t.

I can't remember
the last time anyone took me down.

He... he went down!

But... but how?

I would never have thought
it was possible!

What happened? Did he trip?

I don't know.

He almost ended up flat on his face.

You little punk.

Only 18 years old,
and you're already there, huh?

Bravo, Baki.

I knew going in that this fight
would be more fun than I expected...

...but I never would've imagined

that my son was capable
of pulling off a trick like that.

I telegraphed what I was going to do,

and you took advantage
of the half-second delay

between my thinking it
and my doing it to make your move.

Come here, son.

Lemme give you a pat on the head.

Huh?

Right. Like I really buy that.

Get outta here, man.

Okay, what the hell is he doing?

Don't be shy. C'mon.

We're in the middle of a fight!

Is there something wrong
with a father wanting to praise his son?

Uh...

Huh?!

Tears?

What's going on?

What the hell is wrong with me?

It's just a little pat on the head.

- Whoa!
- Huh?

- He wants to pat his head.
- For real?

Uh...

It is for real.

It's not a trick. He really means it.

I mean, look at the way
he's holding his hand.

It's not an attack.

He wants to pat me on the head!

Get over here. Come on.

This is ridiculous.

I want to show you
just how proud of you I am.

It's too late for that.

C'mon, stop being so damn shy.

We're in the middle of a fight!

I know, but so what?

Can't I express my admiration
for what you've accomplished?

This... this feeling!

Five inches
below his collarbone,

a feeling emerged
from somewhere deep inside him.

A feeling very much like pain.

It hurt,
and yet he didn't want it to end.

It was
a pain hard to let go of.

I can't bear to watch this.

So touching.

Praise from one's father
was a perfectly natural thing.

But in his 18 years,
he had never experienced it.

The joy, the pride,

the feeling of accomplishment
engendered by a father's praise.

The child had been deprived of these.

They were wholly unfamiliar to him.

- You're so cruel, Dad.
- Hmm?

Making me... wait until now.

Does that mean you don't want it, then?

No, I didn't... say that.

His father's hand had been
a hardened fist just moments before.

Now the fingers were loosened and gentle
and reaching out to touch him.

In that moment, he no longer cared.

He didn't care
if it was a trap or a trick.

It was worth the risk
to be touched by the palm of that hand.

I can't do it.

I just can't.

Not now.

We'll never have this chance again.

This is a fight to see who will win.

To see which one of us
is the best of the best!

Hmm.

Beautifully put.

Well said.

All right, then.

I guess the time has come

for you to experience
the essence of strength.

The... essence of...

You're slipping, son.
You let me get to ya.

I can't move!

It's like I'm in a vice!

Now, then, you wanna know
what real strength is?

- It's this.
- Huh?!

I just wanted to pat you on the head.

But you didn't want me
to pat you on the head.

Wha... what?

So, you know what happens now?

I'm gonna pat you
on the damn head.

Huh?

Stop it! No! No, please!

Please, stop! Stop!

- Stop!
- Calm down.

This is strength.

The power to get what you want.

There you go. Good boy.

In that moment,

Baki understood what he'd meant
by the "essence of strength."

- Stop! Stop!
- Pitiful.

Goddammit, let me go!

What a monster!

Bullying his own son like that!

He's always been
a sadistic son of a b*tch.

You're so damn greedy for my approval.

Huh?

You're so much trouble.

You see? I can do anything.

k*ll ya or love ya.

It doesn't matter what you want,
you have no say in it.

Knowing I don't have to compromise
on anything or settle for less,

knowing that I can reach out
and take whatever I want,

that, Baki...

that is what real strength is!

Real strength is endurance too.

And overcoming oneself
and one's weaknesses.

Forget everything else!

Don't let people
fill your head with nonsense.

Is he a shield?

He nailed that landing
like a figure skater!

Huh?

Ignore all
those "words of wisdom"

given to you by people
who have failed to conquer their own will.

They're just excuses
for weakness!

You hit him
with your full force, Ogre?

Hmm.

Strength itself is neither good nor evil.

Even the strong don't endure.

In fact,
there's no need for endurance.

Even overcoming oneself isn't necessary.

Those are excuses too.

They'll contaminate
the purity of your strength

if they're not eliminated!

His father's intentions
were clearly conveyed.

The child receives the message
via pain, and takes it as education.

You're having a hard time getting oxygen.

You can barely breathe.

And to think,
a moment ago I was praising you.

"You are a loser."

That was the unspoken accusation
behind his father's words.

And he was in no state
to prove his father wrong.

It was fun while it lasted.

Now, to end it
with a punch or with a stomp?

Whoa, what's he doing here?

- It's that caveman guy!
- Pickle!

Well, well. This is a night to remember.

Pickle!

Here we are. I've been waiting for this.

What's wrong,
Baki, you jealous?

This is none
of your business, as*h*le!

So stay the f*ck out of it!

These words
coming from a friend...

Being a man from the Cretaceous Period,

Pickle, of course,
couldn't have known what the words meant.

But this much he did understand.

He had been scolded.

It's a fundamental law of nature

that butting in is not allowed.

He had broken that law.

His armor-piercing teeth,

his teeth, with which he had
always believed .to be indestructible,

now one of them was gone.

Pickle, at the age
of a 145.5 million years,

had learned to mind his manners.

So sorry for the interruption.

I'm glad it's not over.

It's like getting up from the table
before the meal is finished.

So I guess we're both lucky
your friend intervened when he did!

I know what's gonna happen next!

Let the games begin, my boy.

Whoa!

Oh!

The first trigger battle
of the modern age.

I knew you'd do something like that.

When his father
stepped forward,

Baki, predicting
the direction of his attack,

moved to intercept it.

But his father had already predicted
that he would make such a countermove.

Fighter A decides to attack.

A split second before the attack,

Fighter B anticipates it
and moves to intercept it.

But Fighter A predicts Fighter B's move,
and intercepts the interception.

Fighter A's interception
is predicted by Fighter B.

Fighter A does the same,
then Fighter B, Fighter A...

Hmm.

And so on.

They could go on intercepting each other
until they both die of old age.

Huh?

I am sorry, Dad.

If I could have won this fight outright,

I would have done it already.

But if I can't do it that way...

then I've gotta do it this way.

Hmm.

You got me on size
and you got me on strength.

So since I don't match up physically,

guess that means I've gotta get creative.

So, like I said, I apologize, Dad.

That's fine.

Huh?

Those split-second predictions,
who can make them faster?

Let's do it.

Your father
accepts your challenge.

What the hell?

You or me? Who's quicker on the draw?

Just like two swordsmen in olden times.

Or a couple of gunslingers
in the old West.

We'll find out which one of us
is a split-second faster,

and when we do,

I'll finish this foolish game
once and for all!

Go on, try it. I dare you.

I dare you!