It was like any typical day in Seoul, Korea. People walked around the streets happily with their friend groups. Not a care in the world. Bright sunrays cast upon the seemingly innocent civilians.
A bulky man then walked through the crowds, with bystanders glancing a quick look at him.
"Isn't that Shiro, leader of the Kawanari!?"
"The strongest fighter in the world!?"
"I heard he beat the Sumike and Haruka family simultaneously!"
The people quickly surrounded Shiro, trying to get an autograph. Cluttered voices overlap each other. While they pushed and shoved each other out of the way. It seemed as though the crowd was fighting to get an autograph from the world-renowned martial artist.
A man then forced himself through the crowd. He was average-looking and looked to be in his early 20s. He also wore a casual outfit—a black T-shirt, blue jeans, a light grey jacket, and black sneakers.
The man's voice called out to Shiro—speaking in a polite, yet loud manner. "SHIRO KAWANARI, CAN I GET AN AUTOGRAPH! I'VE BEEN A HUGE FAN EVER SINCE THE DAY YOU BECAME A WORLD CHAMPION!!!"
Shiro looked down towards the man, gazing at him disinterestedly. He then looked away and began to walk through the crowd. His footsteps were silent, despite his large and menacing stature. His hair was a deep shade of brown with slight streaks of black in his brunette hair. It was long and tied into a manbun.
But as he walked away, the man from before yelled again for his autograph. "WAIT, COME BACK, I NEED THIS AUTOGRAPH KAWANARI!!!" The man then felt a firm grip on his wrist as he tried to grab Shiro's dark blue gi.
He looked to his left, seeing a boy. His eyes were a black pit. Almost like they were filled with nothing. The boy had black hair with a few streaks of darkened purple on his head.
His hand gripped tightly on the overly aggressive fan's wrist, which was heavily callused, rough, almost like a jagged rock. The boy also seemed to be around his early teen years, no less than 16 years old.
The man then glared at the boy, his anger and disgust clouding his judgment. "Who the hell are you!? Get lost, ya damn brat!"
The boy's hand then tightened, clamping down on the wrist tightly. The man then fell to his knees upon feeling the intense grip that this teenager was unleashing on him.
"OUCH! LET GO DAMMIT!" The man yelled in pain from the callused hands gripping tighter and tighter.
He then got a look at the teenager, seeing the fire in his eyes. It reminded him of Shiro's gaze from earlier. Realization then washed over his mind. "Wait, I know who you are!"
The teen's grip then loosened. He then spoke to the man. His voice was neither high nor deep-pitched. However, his voice carried the same weight as Shiro's.
"Really? Who am I then?" The teen asked in a playful, yet threatening tone.
The man tried to say his name—the same name that echoed in his mind with such clarity. It was atuck in his mind, and yet stayed in his mind.
"Y-y-y-you are..." The man stuttered with his lips trembling pathetically. The teen then felt an intense grip on his shoulder. "Kodak, release him."
He then turned around, seeing Shiro. "Why should I?" Kodak asked in a rough and harsh tone. "He's causing a racket for no reason. And what makes him even more intolerable is his pathetic grovelling and begging for some measly autograph. Makes me sick."
Shiro's hand then tore Kodak's grip of the man, forcing him off in an aggressive manner.
"We're going. Now." Shiro said, trying to remove himself and Kodak from the scene.
But as Kodak was being pulled across the sidewalk, he slipped through Shiro's grip almost immediately. "Dammit, let go of me, Dad!" He screamed angrily.
Shiro then looked back towards Kodak, seeing his angry face. "You need to control that anger of yours, son."
Kodak's jaw tensed as he saw that same disappointed look on his father's face. The same look so many others had given him. "Don't you dare look at me like that!"
Shiro didn't look away and only shook his head in disappointment. "How would your sister feel about this?" He asked Kodak.
But upon asking this heart-throbbing question, a fist struck him. Shiro's head turned slightly as he saw a red mark on Kodak's hands.
He then thought to himself. "As soon as I even mentioned Akuma, he struck me with five attacks with one motion. Looks like he did improve our family's martial arts. But this anger of his feels rather odd. It's like something is plaguing his actions and emotions."
Kodak then shook his head for a short moment, trying to ignore something. His voice then muttered, "Shut up. Get out of my damn head."
A blue light then appeared from Kodak's perspective. A little screen that looked like it was straight out of a video game. Almost like an RPG.
[Error! You do not meet the requirements, despite having an avatar!]
Kodak's eyes then flicker upon seeing the message fade away. His eyes fall slowly, and his world goes black. His head hits the ground as Shiro yells out to his son's falling body.
An unfamiliar voice then calls to Kodak. "How pathetic, you're such a weak descendant of the Fujiwara family I've ever had the misfortune of laying my eyes on. Go and die along with those other weaklings."
It confused Kodak immensely. Fujiwara? Descendant? Nothing made much sense. But the words "Pathetic" and "Weak" echoed in his mind.
He was never weak nor pathetic. After all, he was the eldest and strongest child of the Kawanari family. Weak was not a word he'd use to describe himself.
But as his anger soared higher and higher upon hearing those unlikely words. He woke up and found himself in a locker room. Kodak was surrounded by a single person he knew all too well.
A girl roughly around his age, wearing some baggy sweats and a hoodie. He could tell it was "her" by the purple undertones that complemented her dark brown hair so effortlessly.
"Fumiko?" He muttered in a groggy tone.
The girl jumped onto Kodak, hugging him tightly. "Don't scare us like that!" Her worried tone and anxious face made Kodak feel bad about passing out. But, then again, could he really control that?
However, the private moment between Kodak and Fumiko was then interrupted by the loud sound of a door being flung off its own hinges.
"I hope you brought your best to this showdown of ours, Kawanari." A rough and aggressive tone then filled the atmosphere as Kodak's eyes darted across the room.
His eyes gazed at the person standing where the door was just flung off its hinges. "The hell do you want, Azar?" Kodak asked in an annoyed tone.
"To have you finally recognize that I am better than you in every conceivable way. I want to take everything from you: your name, your strength, your friends, and especially that harlot who clings to your side. It's like you got your own personal whore." Azar's hand then points straight at Fumiko. His hand lingered in the air for a moment. "Maybe I'll boast to the bedridden Akuma and Dal-Hee how I beat you."
Tension then swells up quickly in the locker room. Fumiko looks at Azar in disgust. Her disgust truly showed how much she despised and hated Azar's garbage attitude. It was like looking at an ugly bug that didn't know its place.
But as Azar's face wore a cocky smile, he noticed Kodak was gone. His eyes then darted across the room. How could he have been so careless?
But the moment he looked right back at Fumiko, a fist travelled through the air. Azar's face winced as he was ready for the pain to crash into him full force. But that was his plan all along. If he could get Kodak to act on his impulsive emotions, then he'd be disqualified. It was a perfect setup in his eyes.
Azar's mind then began to ramble, boasting about how good he tricked Kodak. "It's perfect. The Kawanari family is supposed to be level-headed and, overall, mentally more powerful than even their own monstrous physical abilities. But Kodak is impulsive, reckless, and known for his outbursts amongst all the martial families. I even go as far as to say he's more like his cousin Akachi Fujimoto. I mean, the last couple of years of the major martial tournaments that we fought in led to him winning and humiliating me in front of the higher-ups in my family. He's the reason I was cast out from the Tento family. But now he's gonna realize what that feels like!"
But as Azar awaits the pain. Nothing happened. He then slowly began to open his eyes and saw that Kodak had just stopped short. Kodak's curled-up fist then lowered to his side. Azar's eyes then widened in both shock and anger.
"He didn't act impulsively?!" Azar thought to himself, still confused about why Kodak wasn't acting out like he was known to do. He knew Kodak was impulsive and reckless. But why wasn't he showing that side?
But then Kodak shoves Azar harshly out of the locker room, sending him into a wall. His head hits the wall. His gaze burned into Azar as he watched him tumble out of the locker room. Those dark eyes pierced through him, almost like an abyss was staring into Azar's very soul.
"Don't you dare badmouth my family?" Kodak said, trying to intimidate Azar. But his opponent only laughed at him. He even began to insult Kodak's family even more.
"You damn Kawanaris and their morals. How the fuck are you even considered to be the strongest in our generation if you can't even use your innate technique!" Azar yelled at him as sparks of lightning surrounded his palms.
[Innate Technique: Thunderveil activated with hatred!]
The energy crackled around the room, giving off different kinds of vibrations that bounced off the walls so quickly and immensely.
Kodak's face then glared at Azar, feeling slightly uneasy about his current situation. But before he could react, a whiplash of lightning slashed Fumiko across her face. His eyes widened as he saw the blood trickling down her left eye.
[Innate Skill: Lashing Lightning!]
"FUMIKO!" Kodak yelled in a worrisome tone. But as he turned around to come to her aid, he saw a couple of purple petals floating around Fumiko.
[Innate Technique: Twilight Flora activated defensively!]
Fumiko's left eye then began to emit steam, and Kodak watched as her flesh began to reform. Her eye was then shortly reforged. A wave of relief washed over Kodak as he saw that the healing process was rather quick and painless.
"Thank god." He thought to himself.
But his relief quickly turned to rage as he glared at Azar. He had no right to hurt Fumiko. But what could he do? He had no power, no innate technique, and no skills. Didn't matter if they were revenant skills or innate skills.
"I'm so damn pathetic," He thought to himself. "I'm always talking a big game, trying to be tough and menacing. But the truth is, I don't even have an ounce of revenant! If I had even an ounce of revenant, I'd kill this bastard in an instant!"
[Anger, helplessness, and rage. Conditions have been met!]