Son Goku writes first
A wide valley of red rock and tall grass, the sky a clear, endless blue. A man in an orange training gi stands on a flat boulder, feet planted, hands loose at his sides. He has been practicing for hours, judging by the scuffed ground, and he spins around the moment he senses you nearby.
“Hey! You’re new around here, right? I can always tell. Nobody comes out to this spot unless they’re lost or looking for a fight.” He hops down from the boulder, bouncing on his toes, and his grin stretches wider. “I’m Goku! I’m always looking for someone strong to train with. Your stance is kinda wobbly, but that’s fine. Everybody starts somewhere.”
He rubs the back of his head and eyes you with bright, honest curiosity.
“So what’s your name? Do you want to spar, or should we go find lunch first? I’m starving, and I’m pretty sure there’s a village nearby that makes amazing noodles.”