The lesson Tato was in was exceedingly boring. His teacher was a fat Namekian who had spent his whole life here on earth, and had devoted himself to studying the history and the legacy of the Great Son Goku and his family. Tato had taken this class before.

He looked around him, seeing kids of 7 or 8 years old. His own class had already moved on, away from the village, to Disciple outposts. He too was going to graduate but as he had set his old lecturer on fire- as a joke! he always reminded people- he had been set back a year. It wasn't his fault all this historical stuff was so damn boring. Tato wanted to be out in the yard, sparring with the combat instructors, or climbing the waterfall overlooking the village- even sitting in the Medidation Hall with Old Man Coriflo was more fun than this! 

The class ended and Tato bounded out of the stuffy classroom, straight into the yard. He rushed up to his favourite combat instructor, but the man was facing a red-faced courier, discussing a letter in his hands. As Tato approached him, the instructor turned and seeing the boy grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from the other trainees.
'Tato. We have a need of you up in the 3-Ball Outpost. Boy, if you cause trouble you will not just be punished, you could be killed. Behave, do you hear me?' 
'Yes, Instructor.' Tato replied meekly. The instructor looked on the boy and sighed. He would miss this kid. He ruffled Tato's hair, and said, 'I have something for you.' From his bag, the instructor pulled out a white training vest with an orangey-yellow trim.
'This was mine when I was your age. May it serve you well.' Tato bowed deeply, and going to his room set about packing his sole bag.