Your Title - version 2.0
Who knew sitting in a theater watching an anime film could cause a year long conflict inside me to at last climax and come to an end?
Akira, from the moment I met your work I have been in awe of you and I have shook my fist in frustration at you. I am an absolute, complete, die-hard fan of your work and I am your biggest critic. I drooled my way through half of Dragon Ball. I have picked apart Z with a comb. And I have set my sights on being the greatest DBZ writer in the English language - all because I was pissed off at you for never explaining how Vegeta and Bulma came together.
And then, as my mind created these series of novels to continue the story of Z, you did the unthinkable. You came back. I watched Battle of Gods with wonder and zeal, taking it almost as a challenge. You had giving me the footing I needed to really connect with other fans through my writing, cause you had rekindled their love.
But then Resurrection of F happened. And the more I learned about it, the more frustrated and even angry I became. Vegeta and Goku both having the power of gods at will?! The very idea turned my stomach and made me scowl with disapproval. You even had the gall not to include Bulla, your own creation (despite what some GT haters misunderstand). As if this wasn't enough, you started Super, your OWN version of what happens after Buu.
The pain and frustration you caused me crippled my writing, reducing my daily output from pages to mere paragraphs. My only comfort I had was the belief that what you were doing would surely just be some sloppy cash-cow to feed your fans. I have always believed in my own talent and desired to share it with others, because I love it more than life itself.
You even gave the satisfaction of turning my nose up at your Super, seeing you rehash the same material that was in Battle of Gods. I thought I could preserve my pride - the pride I didn't even realize I had.
But then...out of pure obligatory fan loyalty I went to see Resurrection of F. And you know, I was right. The new transformation is dumb-looking and honestly makes little sense. It's pointless and showy. And the deus ex machina you pulled with Whis was cheap and pathetic.
But my Toriyama-sama...I loved it. I loved every stupid moment of it. I loved the fights. I loved the humor. I sat giddy among my fellow fans: laughing, cheering, and wincing with every turn. And here I sit late at night at my computer with the realization that you are capable of something I never could.
You make the pathetic wonderful. You make the stupid brilliant. You are an idiot and a clown. But you are the master and I am your second.
I am Vegeta.
I will never stop pursuing my dream to be the best DBZ writer there is, and eventually the best in the world. But here I admit with a helpless smile that you possess talent that I can never replicate.
It's strange...in that admission I feel a both an incredible freedom and a sense of defeat. My Toriyama-sama, I will make my writing in honor and in the image of your Z as best I can. But my strength is my strengths and my weaknesses my weaknesses. I will always both grit my teeth and look on in awe.
But from now on, I run a different sort of race.