I didn't go home because something hooked into my brain and wouldn't let go.
True strength comes from discipline, from understanding, from mastering not just your body, but your mind and spirit as well.
I'd been training my quirk for six years, and I was more capable than most kids my age.
But watching that homeless man take them three delinquents in seconds with eagle claw kung fu that felt different, and he'd mentioned students, there was no way I was going to miss out on this opportunity
So instead of going home, I followed him. The old man moved through the streets with surprising speed. His worn sandals barely made a sound against the pavement. He navigated alleyways and side streets with the confidence of someone who knew this area intimately.
I kept my distance, but I wasn't exactly trying to hide, just observing him
After three blocks, he stopped walking. "You're following me," he said.
I stepped out from behind the corner.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"You mentioned teaching students, and I want to learn."
"No, you don't." He started walking again. "You want spectacle, flashy techniques you can show off to your friends. Go home, boy."
I hurried to catch up, falling into step beside him.
"That's not true. I saw how you fought, and I was truly amazed. It was like nothing I've ever seen.
"Flattery won't change my answer."
"I'm not flattering you." I matched his pace, refusing to fall behind. "You moved with no wasted movement.
He glanced at me sideways. "You're observant, that's good, now be observant enough to notice I want to be left alone."
"You said we'd meet again, that when we did, I should bring an open mind and a willing heart. Well, here I am, with an open mind and a willing heart ready to learn."
"I said when we meet again, not five minutes later, while I'm trying to find somewhere to sleep for the night."
He turned down another alley, narrower and darker. I followed without hesitation.
"Where are you going?"
"None of your business."
"Do you have a place to stay?"
"I stay where I need to stay."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
We emerged from the alley into a small courtyard behind an abandoned building. Trash littered the corners with graffiti covering the walls, and a broken shopping cart lay on its side near a rusted dumpster.
The old man walked to a relatively clean spot against the wall and sat down, arranging his ragged belongings around him.
"This is where you sleep?" I asked.
"It's dry, relatively safe, and people rarely come here. Good enough."
"You could go to a shelter. There are programs, resources for homeless people."
"I don't need charity or pity, and I especially don't need some twelve-year-old boy trying to save me from circumstances you don't understand."
"Then help me understand."
"Why? Why do you care so much? You saw an old homeless man fight off three punks. That's interesting for about five minutes, then you go home, tell your friends, and forget about it. "So why are you still here?"
I sat down across from him, ignoring the dirty ground.
"Because I want to be skilled and disciplined. I want to master the same martial arts you've learn."
"You're twelve, you have your whole life to develop strength and skill."
"And every day I wait is a day wasted." I met his gaze.
The old man was quiet for a long moment, "You remind me of someone who was very stubborn, unwilling to accept no for an answer."
He looked away, staring at nothing.
"That student died five months ago, Shan Yu snapped his neck like a twig."
The words hung in the air for a while, with me starting in shock.
"What?"
"You want to know why I live in alleys and abandoned courtyards? Why don't I go to shelters or ask for help?" Because I don't deserve help, I don't deserve comfort or safety or peace. I failed. I failed my students, my legacy, my entire lineage. And three young men died because I wasn't good enough to protect them."
My throat felt tight. "What happened?"
"You want the story? Fine. I'll tell you. Maybe it'll convince you to leave me alone."
He settled back against the wall, his eyes distant.
"My family came to Japan during the Great Leap Forward In 1958, before quirks even existed. Millions were starving in China. My Ancestor fled with his wife and children, crossed into Japan with nothing but the clothes on their backs, and the martial arts knowledge passed down through our family for generations."
He paused, collecting his thoughts.
"They settled in a small village. It was a mixed community with Chinese refugees, Japanese locals, and people just trying to survive. He opened a small dojo and taught Chinese martial arts to anyone willing to learn, which built a reputation."
"By the time I was born, that dojo was very respected. My father trained me from age four. Every style he knew, Eagle Claw, Baguazhang, Tai Chi, Wing Chun, Bajiquan. Dozens of techniques that have been refined over centuries." His hands clenched into fists. "When I was old enough, I took over and expanded it. Taught students from all over the region and spent forty years of my life building something that I thought would outlast me."
"What happened?"
"Shan Yu happened."
"Five months ago, he walked into my dojo. He was very tall, the tallest person I've seen, built like a warrior from ancient times. Seven foot four of pure muscle. Said he wanted to learn, said he respected Chinese martial arts and wanted to study under a master."
The old man's voice grew harder. "I welcomed him. Explained my philosophy, my teaching methods. Started to demonstrate a basic stance." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "He attacked me mid-sentence with no warning." His quirk was Kinetic Absorption; every attack I threw at him, he just absorbed the kinetic energy and stored it. Then it was released back at me twice as hard. My own attacks turned against me."
"I fought anyway. Used everything I knew. It didn't matter. He was stronger, and his quirk countered everything I could do. But I kept fighting, because that's what masters do."
His voice cracked slightly.
"My students saw me losing. Saw their teacher getting beaten down, three of them jumped in to help. It was stupid of them."
He closed his eyes.
"Shan Yu killed the first one with a single strike, punching straight through the boy's chest. He was dead before he hit the ground."
My stomach turned.
"The second student tried to run and get help but Shan Yu caught him and snapped his neck, like it was nothing.
"And the third?" I asked grimly.
"The third was Japanese. A local boy who'd been training with me for five years, he was a good student with a kind heart that wanted to use martial arts to help people." The old man's hands were shaking now. "Shan Yu grabbed him by the throat. Looked directly at me. And said, 'This is what happens to Japanese filth who think they can learn Chinese martial arts.' Then he killed him, slowly, and made me watch every second."
Horror crawled up my spine.
"The other students fled. Ran before Shan Yu could kill them too." His shoulders slumped. "I tried to stop him. Attacked with everything I had left, but it wasn't enough. He beat me even more down. Broke two ribs and dislocated my shoulder. Left me bleeding on my own dojo floor."
"Why didn't he kill you?"
"Because dead masters can't suffer." He wanted me alive. Wanted me to live with the shame of failure, of losing my students, of losing my dojo. He stood over me and said, 'This dojo is mine now. You can leave, old man, go die in a gutter somewhere, your legacy is finished.'"
Silence filled the courtyard.
"You just left?"
"What else could I do? I was injured, defeated, disgraced. My students were dead or scattered. The dojo I'd spent forty years building had been conquered in twenty minutes." He looked at his hands. "I had family, a wife, children, grandchildren with wealth accumulated over decades, and I didn't want to call the heroes as that would have brought even more shame; he probably would have killed some heroes before he got put down, it would have been even more blood on my hands, so I became nothing."
How can someone have a shame so intense that it drove them to abandon their life? I thought.
"Who is Shan Yu?" I asked. "Why did he attack your dojo?"
The old man sighed.
"Shan Yu's family was also refugees who escaped during the Great Leap Forward, but their experience was different; while my family found acceptance. His expression darkened. "Shan Yu's family settled in a Japanese village that resented Chinese refugees and saw them as inferior, thieves stealing jobs and resources. The racism lasted for generations. His family was essentially enslaved. Forced to do the worst jobs for the lowest pay and beaten if they complained. Humiliated constantly for decades."
The old man's voice grew quieter.
"When Shan Yu was four, he unlocked his quirk. The village elders saw it as dangerous and tried to suppress it by beating him whenever he used it. But then he escaped at fifteen and fled into the mountains, and disappeared. He spent twenty years isolated and training.
"What purpose?"
"Revenge. Not just against that village but against all of Japan." The old man met my eyes. "He wants to cleanse Japan of Japanese people and make it part of China again, and he's starting by conquering every dojo in the country."
My blood ran cold.
"Your dojo was the first."
"Yes. And he made sure I knew everything, His backstory, his plans, his quirk's capabilities. Told me everything while I lay there bleeding because knowing wouldn't change anything. I still couldn't stop him."
The old man stood up, joints creaking.
"So now you know. Now you understand why I can't teach you. Why I'm not worthy of passing on my knowledge." He looked down at me. "Go home, boy. Forget about martial arts training. Forget about me and live your life and stay away from my failures."
I stood up too.
I'd fought villains before; some homeless old man's failure wasn't going to stop me from getting what I wanted.
"Teach me," I said. "Train me in martial arts, and I'll get your dojo back."
The old man stared at me like I'd gone insane.
"You're twelve years old."
"I'm not just some regular twelve-year-old, mister.
"Shan Yu will kill you."
"He can try, but he will fail."
"This isn't a Game, boy. " His voice sounded almost angry now. "You have no idea what you're proposing." "He'll absorb every ice attacks you throw at him and he'll send it back twice as hard. You'll be beating yourself."
"Then I'll find another way."
"There is no other way! I tried everything! nothing worked.
Silence stretched between us.
Then the old man's expression shifted with something ugly flickering across his face.
"Fine," he said. You want to fight Shan Yu? Go ahead. Get yourself killed, maybe seeing another dead child will finally push me over the edge I've been dancing around for five months."
I should have been horrified about fighting Shan Yu, but instead, all I felt was determination to finally show the fruit of my labor.
"Where's the dojo?"
The old man quickly gave the directions. I memorized them and turned to leave.
"Kori," he called. The first time he used my name since our interaction at the park.
When you die, I'll remember your name and add it to the list of students I failed to protect."
I didn't respond and just walked away.
The directions led me across town; it was a twenty-minute walk.
The dojo appeared at the end of a quiet street. It was a traditional Japanese building with wooden walls and a Tiled roof, with a sign above the entrance written in both Japanese and Chinese characters.
The door was open, I walked up the steps, and crossed the threshold. Inside the main training hall was empty. There were weapons mounted on the walls.
And standing in the center of the room, practicing forms with movements so perfect they looked choreographed, was Shan Yu.
He stopped mid-form and turned to look at me, then smiled.
"A child," he said. His voice was deep. "Has the old man sent a child to reclaim his dojo? How pathetic."
I stepped fully into the training hall. "I'm here to take this dojo back," I said. My voice was steady. Leave now, and we don't have to fight."
Shan Yu's smile widened.
"Oh, we're going to fight, little boy." He dropped into a stance. With his feet wide and Hands up, and when I'm done with you, I'll find the old man and kill him too to finally end this farce once and for all."
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.
"Try it," I said.
Shan Yu laughed.
And the fight began.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
A/N:
700 powertsones: Incomplete
900 powerstones Incomplete
· · ─ ·✶· ─
Read up to 10 advanced chapters on patreon.com/keyblast