LIGHTNOVELONLINE Origin: Akemi Kishimoto
Present day.
5'8". Firm and square. Rigid on the outside, mellow on the inside. An 18 year old sorcerer from the academy sporting a black biker jacket with small yet visible tatters here and there. As usual, he rarely wore anything other than black, though his style has matured as some red highlights sparsely lined his outfit.
He was on lunch duty that day, serving scoops of delicious joyslop to the students and faculty alike. He volunteered. With a bright smile on his face, he talked to his peers who were also on the serving line, making banter and whatnot.
Near the end of serving duty however, came Naota Sen, one of the staff members within the academy. A 6'2'' tall Japanese man with a muscular, balanced physique. Despite being very vascular, he wasn't a harrowing tower of meat and strength like Django, but more so a toned, approachable guy. He always wore an indigo tank top. It seemed he always wore aviator sunglasses, even when indoors. Unlike some pompous handsome mentor, it wasn't for any means of concealment rather, simply forgetting he was wearing them in the first place. Overall, the man's attire seemed no different than a regular guy going to the gym. Though it was apparent he had black hair, the hairstyle is barely ever seen since, much like the sunglasses, Naota always wore baseball caps; it seems the guy has a fetish for summer wear. Looks aside, Naota always carried a soft and laid back demeanor to him. Serious, not in a stern way, but more in a friendly, to-the-point type of way with a few jokes here and there to lighten up the mood.
Naota smiled as he presented his tray towards the teenager.
"Howdy Akemi, haven't seen you in a while. Are you good?"
Akemi looked up and gave a genuine smile. Even though Naota was a lot closer to Naoki, and Akemi rarely spent time with the staff in general, Akemi held deep respect for Naota. He is after all, the one who made Akemi open up to the light.
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.
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Flashback.
Four years ago.
Before Akemi was righteous and well mannered, before Mishima took him in as a sponsee, before the three masks, the maturity, and the close friendships, Akemi was 14 years old.
Much like 80% of the Academy's students, Akemi was an orphan bought under the table, given an artificial name, and who's existence wasn't evident on paper.
Realizing all of this, naturally, the young Akemi was frustrated. He rebelled against the strict code of conduct within the academy as well as the social norms of the country. Plenty of staff talked to him and tried to get through to him, but he always whipped out the schpeel of "Oh I see, I just don't have a father figure, so its hard for me to understand" and "I am just so depressed because my life kinda fucking sucks" and "I know this is the eighth time this week that I attempted to burn a room down, but I promise that I have seen the errors in my ways." He often "trained" with other students and went all out every time. When confronted with the fact that most, if not, all of the students he sparred with were younger than him, he always rebutted with it being: A. A coincidence that the only ones available were people who were years younger than him, and B. it serves to toughen them up either way. A few of the older people in the staff laughed and agreed with his philosophy. A couple others saw through him, but through new rules within the academy that they themselves pushed for, they could do very little about.
Back then, if a student like this were to act out (which wasn't rare), they'd either be: socially shunned and sent out on an ostracized training regime to one of the mountain stations for a year. Alone. Or, they'd get beat up on the spot by a teacher; which was a common thing regardless of punishment or not. But due to modernization and Japanese customs slowly withering away, the social approach was adopted and still fresh during Akemi's period as a middle school student.
Much like today, in terms of apparel he always stuck to wearing dark clothes. In terms of mannerisms though, he used to be a walking black hole of charisma and positivity. He openly mocked people who met his gaze, and sometimes even responded to simple interactions like an accidental bump with unrelenting sheer brutality. Even the interactions between him and his elders were always sour. Whether it be an older bully who abused Akemi when he was younger, or anyone who meant well, he'd refuse to let his feelings waver in broad daylight, and would dedicate his time to inconveniencing them as much as possible. And if they looked happy, he'd do it again.
Revenge often made him feel empty and had little effect in terms of making him feel better;
Thus, he'd try harder the next time. In his eyes, of course the reason he didn't feel satisfied was because the vengeance was too tame.
The last day of his short-dicked reign was when he sparred with Naoki.
Naoki may lack a few neurons, sure, but he has more than enough abilities to capitalize and keep an even ground with his friends.
Back then however,
12 year old Naoki, was, to be blunt,
a shrimp.
He had only been training under Naota for around a year or less, and even then, he decided to take Naoki's training a bit easy since he was still only a kid; he'd jump the difficulty spike soon, but for now, it was quite tame.
Naoki knew how to utilize Ki to a fair extent. He'd be able to hold his own against an average adult. He also knew how to levitate a couple objects above the ground, and maybe toss them at a whopping speed of 0.4 meters a second. And on a good day, maybe be able to make an opponent see a shadow person in the corner of their eye for a split second.
That's about it.
In the meantime, Akemi was an average all-rounder, sure. However,
He was an average all-rounder with two more years of experience.
Akemi dragged Naoki into one of the sparring rooms and had his way with him for a good two hours or so.
"To cull weakness" was his justification for doing so.
.
.
.
It was raining.
Two hours had passed, and Naoki limped out of the room with a couple fractures, a black eye, a ruined nose, and an arm that was bent in a way that it shouldn't have.
Akemi walked out with a couple bloody scratches and a satisfied ego.
"Damn,
that felt good."
.
.
.
Naturally, Naoki whined to Naota. Sen ran over to him and carried him over to the healing station, demanding for Naoki to explain what happened. The teacher gripped on Naoki's shoulder in contemplation of what to do. Of course, Naoki screamed like a banshee, so Naota apologized since he didn't realize he was accidentally hurting Naoki.
After Naota heard from Naoki's perspective, he immediately left the room and stormed straight to Akemi's dorm.
The teacher, fuming, kicked Akemi's door down to the point where half of the school heard it.
"You. Come with me."
Akemi, who was sitting near his computer, took a couple seconds to react. He kept on playing until he died. He finally looked back at Naota with a nonchalant and bored expression
"Aight."
They walked down aimlessly through the hallways. Through corridors, past the somber windows, down some stairs, even circling around the sector a couple of times. Akemi even asked "are you doing this to purposefully waste my time?"
"Yes."
Though confused, Akemi was at least glad he was graced with an answer after all this boring silence.
After 45 minutes of walking, they stopped in front of a janitor's closet.
"Go. Sit down." commanded Naota.
Akemi sauntered in and sat on a bucket. Naota did much the same, after he closed the door. He didn't turn on the lights.
Naota stared at the student in front of him; Akemi felt it.
There was an awkward silence between the two as they both endured this staring contest in the dark.
After a couple minutes, Naota began.
"So what's your problem? Hm? What's your deal; why are you doing these things."
"Because I felt bored." responded Akemi
"Tah! Yeah, sure."
Akemi furrowed his brow and shrugged
"I did! I'm serious."
"So Naoki didn't do anything to you."
"No. Welllll-besides being weak of course. That I had to correct."
"And so you did so by beating the shit out of someone younger than you?"
"Yes. It's training. That's what we're here for, right? That's what we're being kept alive for. You guys literally buy children from orphanages, ripping them away from the chance of leading a normal life, and instead force them to fight spirits just for what? For sick pleasure? I sure as fuck think so. Am I right or am I right."
"Half right. We do it to protect the country, but yes, you're technically correct."
"Well, yeah, there you go."
"But answer me this-
isn't beating someone younger than you a sign of a weak person?"
"Well if Naoki would be able to hold his ground, then he wouldn't be weak since he technically beat someone who's stronger than him."
"But if you won, wouldn't you be the weak one since you lost to someone weaker than you?"
Akemi's eye twitched; his voice wavered into a deeper, harsher tone.
"But that didn't happen, so you lose."
"Hm. I see." chuckled Naota in suppressed tone.
Another awkward staring contest occurred. Two minutes passed. Five minutes passed. Eight minutes passed.
Akemi interrupted the silence
"Can I go now?"
"No."
"I have to pee."
"No you don't."
"Do you want me to pee, right here, right now?"
"If you want to do so, there's a cup back there in the corner. Pretty sure some of the students use it whenever they're in a rush."
Akemi wrinkled his nose at the response.
Another two minutes passed.
Another five minutes passed.
This time, Naota picked the conversation back up.
"I don't get you. You clearly see that most of the people around you went through the same things as you did. You use what happened to you as an excuse rather than as a means of getting stronger. You weaken yourself every time you attempt to look strong. It's childish, really. I just- I don't understand you. And before you nail me by going ‘you don’t know what i’m going through,’ yes- yes I do. I’ve been brought up by this system as well, I know how it gets. I was a hormonal teenager once too. I know what it’s like to feel loss. I know how rough it gets. I know what it’s like to have pressure choke you for years. I know you're only fourteen years old. But, how naïve and sorry do you have to be for yourself?"
"Beats me."
Akemi smiled, thinking he'd just beat another person in his wake. It's always the pseudo-intellectual adults who always played armchair-psychologists that pissed him off the most. Though he couldn't beat them physically, beating them at their own game always tasted better.
Naota looked down in a disappointed manner. He accepted what he had to do, but he still felt guilty.
.
.
.
The silence broke.
"You win. No matter how much we try to talk to you, no matter how hard the rules are in your favor, no matter how much I- we want to help you, you always push, push, push away. It doesn't matter if it's me, another student your same age, or Nyorai himself, you always cocoon yourself in this shell of self-pity and anger. That's no way to lead a life, however at the end of the day, though you'll die sad and alone, it's your life, and I can accept that. Who am I to judge how a person lives? Tch. Fine, that's fair. What I can't accept however, is taking that negativity out on others who don't deserve it. I can philosophize with you as much as I want, but I know you won't change. Not by talking, no. You do what you do under the guise of training, but everyone can see through you. You picked on someone younger than you; so that's what I'm going to do."
Akemi smiled softly as he registered another win under his ego.
"Hm.
...
Wait, wha-"
Naota got up, grabbed onto Akemi's shoulder, gripped through the shirt and latched onto the folds of Akemi's skin. In less than a blink of an eye, a knee was delivered through Akemi's stomach, making a visible stretch rupture through Akemi's back. The teenager vomited all over the floor as well as on Naota's pants. With a grimace, Naota switched his grip from the folds of Akemi's skin to the brats' hair, yanking him up to a standing position. The teenager, frustrated that he was caught off-guard by Naota, attempted to hit a surprise headbutt against the teacher. But even the teenager, with the entire might of his body, on top of his skills with Ki- was still no match for Naota's right forearm.
"Come on, don't tell me you're going easy on me," taunted the adult.
As the teenager attempted to kick and punch and flail and slap and dodge, against the menace in front of him, Naota kept his grip on Akemi's hair. The master utilized his height advantage, lifted the teenager off of the ground and proceeded to swing Akemi's entire body through the custodial door; with one hand no less.
Akemi splat on the wall, before sliding down and landing on his neck. His bladder already blew its load the moment he flew through the janitor's door.
People were watching.
"At least you got the hang of Ki retainment; that made it easier to hold onto your hair so that it wouldn't rip off in clumps. Thanks for the grip though," mocked Naota.
Huffing and puffing, trying to ignore the piss stains on his pants, Akemi tried to bumrush Naota with a peek-a-boo style defense. Shifting from side to side, Akemi made the motions of a typical, perfected Dempsey roll; marching forward with vigor and rage. Flow like water; strike like a hurricane, move like a river, quick as a drop and swift as a-
Naota backhanded Akemi's right cheek, making the teenager stagger backwards for a couple feet until he was just walking backwards down the hall; only to end up flat on his ass.
Naota stepped out of the janitor's closet, looked to his right so as to spot his opponent, smiled, then waved.
"At least give me some room to fight, geez" chuckled Sen, cracking his neck while rolling his shoulders.
"Damn I'm getting old" he whispered to himself.
Unsure whether or not he was on the brink of tears, or ready to blow up the school, Akemi struggled to get up. He took a deep breath. And for a split second, he pondered on what choice to make.
.
.
.
He chose the latter.
The student readied his fists by his hips, akin to a Karate stance. He took a deep breathe and steeled his body. Ki and Magic flared up the entire hall. Students gazed in awe. Sure, some of them were older and stronger than Akemi, but it was much like a school fight. Yes, they were all honed to fight supernatural beings and spar against each other, even to the extreme degrees. But this.
This was genuine, concentrated, unapologetic malice, funneled through direct concentration. For a moment, despite the humiliation and the pain, Kishimoto forgot where he was, who he was, and instead, focused on the sparse few seconds he had when entering the zone. Tapped in one's own element, gaining mojo, despite the snowball of Akemi's momentum in the fight (if it could even be labeled as such) being reversed at Mach speeds, Akemi somehow managed to not let it get to his head, and instead, channeled his energy straight into this attack.
"『𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕣𝕒 𝔽𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕤: 𝕄𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕖 𝔾𝕦𝕟』"
For the first time since this fight started, Naota's eyes widened.
"ah
ah
AH-"
In front of the Karate posing teenager were two averaged sized fists that glowed with fiery vigor; a manifestation of Akemi's strength. With steady and swift execution, Akemi raised his cocked-back fist from his hip, extending it towards his target as a karate strike. He then raised the other, alternating between the two. One hand starts from the hip then is sent out as a punch; the punch's recoil is sent back into a cocked position, and awaits its turn. One. Two. Each time Akemi punched, the fist that was projected exploded outwards and careened down the hall towards Naota. His body was the hammer, the projections his bullets. Bang. Bang. Bang. Akemi striked, and striked and striked, recycling the blowback of each of his punches until it perfectly evolved into a machine gun's mechanism. Bang. And then bang. Bang. Bang. Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang BAng Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang BANg Bang Bang BAng BANg BANG BANg BANg BANg BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANGBANG. Despite the process and execution of the technique taking an hour's worth within Akemi's perception of time-
Only four seconds had actually passed in the real world.
In little time, Akemi was already sending a barrage of spiritual fists at the same rate as that of an M249 Machine Gun's rate of fire.
The culmination of the delinquent's essence as a person. A focused, wrathful mind. A toned, strong body. A technique that was a literal projection of his actions. This was Akemi Kishimoto's results.
Going back to Naota, wide-eyed and mouth agape, he finally let out what was intended from the beginning.
"ah
ah
AH-
Choooo!"
Despite the hundreds of magical hazards coming his way-
he sneezed.
Nonchalantly, Naota looked up, bored, and proceeded to do what he did best.
With a stern expression, Naota stared at the onslaught that came his way. Not all of the fists were precise enough to accurately hit Naota; some of them weaved and whizzed past him. Perhaps a few of the projectiles hit another student in the background, but at that point, that's on them for getting hit in the first place. Meanwhile, the projectiles that did manage to be accurate enough to hit Naota were all swiftly slapped away with measured, patient movements. 『Ki technique: deflection』.
As Sen marched towards Akemi, he grew increasingly tired and frustrated at the situation. Though, he made sure not to let his feelings be known by his opponent.
"(Let's end this)" thought Naota to himself.
Sen immediately evaded past the bullets in a straight line with minimal effort or movements. In a『Blink』, the teacher blitzed Akemi, with a meaty punch to the stomach, making the same visible stretch on Akemi's back from the ferocity of the punch, and carried the kid with his fist, down the hall until the momentum finally carried over to Akemi's body and launched him to the end of the hall's wall.
"Jeez, Naoki got done by this?
I should really start going hard on the boy if that's the case," said the teacher.
Now to be clear, despite what Naota was doing, he didn't enjoy it. He took no pleasure in hurting the weak or trampling on other people's feelings. He had a secure enough ego to not delve into such trivial matters. However, in these specific cases, he only did so because
A. Physical combat may bring immediate results, but Psychological warfare whittles people down more securely. Unless it's severe physical damage, people can simply heal from the wounds. It's the psychological trauma that truly makes people hurt.
B. It was all to prove a point.
Akemi struggled to get up. He gasped and twitched and was barely able to stand in a hunched over position.
"Y..You're a hypocrite" muttered the wrecked kid.
"Am I?" responded Naota.
"Yes. huff, you're proving my point exactly."
Sen stared at the brutalized kid for a moment before finally responding.
"What was your point exactly? I don't intend on wasting time here. Not that there's really much to discuss here anymore. And besides-"
Naota walked over to Akemi, morphing his lighthearted, jeering face with a more accurate depiction of how he really felt.
A cold expression took over the teacher.
"-I thought you weren't much for philosophy."
With chills down his spine, Akemi infused what little amount of Ki he had left, and circled all around his executioner. But no matter how many times he ran around, how fast he went, or what direction he shifted-
Naota always faced him with a permanent straight forward stance. Like a player circling around a DOOM enemy; Naota was simply, permanently locked on.
"Enough of this," demanded Naota.
At the time that Akemi registered what Naota had said, said teenager was already getting wailed on by uppercuts and hooks. Every time Akemi folded over from a hook to the stomach, Naota would greet the delinquent's chin with an uppercut; every time Akemi waived from getting his head sent backwards, Naota would greet the opening with a meaty hook to the stomach.
Blood splattered all over Naota, the walls, and of course, Akemi himself. Sen's face couldn't get more serious. An expression of contempt and regret yet, he knew there was no other way.
Akemi on the other hand was barely conscious. It was a feat in itself to take this much punishment, and still have the cajones to fight back; let alone stand up. Liquified intestines, several hematomas all over his body, and an ego that was at it's breaking point; "Akemi" was barely present at the moment.
After a minute or so of molly-whopping the kid, Naota let Kishimoto's body plop down to its knees for a brief second.
"Got anything to say?" asked Naota with a sullen voice.
Barely grasping the last roots of anger within himself, Akemi searched deep into his soul. His shell cracked and oozed with vulnerability. Using all of his strength, he briefly pondered which course of action would be right in this situation.
Both students and faculty stared at the scene. Even if they wanted to do anything (though let's be honest, none of them wanted to), they would rather see things through in this specific scenario. Was there in fact, merit in the power of traditional correction?
After what felt like minutes, Akemi finally answered his wise choice
"...Fuck....
...you..."
"Hm."
Naota grabbed the teenager by the hair, slammed his fist into Akemi's nose so hard it embedded itself into his face. The impact was so grand, it launched him back a couple feet. The kid of course writhed and wriggled in pain on the floor.
Naota proceeded to take a deep, wavering breath. He finally took off his sunglasses, and walked over to the barely functioning kid, propping him up against the wall in a sitting position. The teacher then proceeded to softly grab Akemi's nose and pull it back out so as to reset it back into its original position. There, only Akemi saw Naota Sen's eyes. Red pupils with a softness to them. Reaching from the bottom of his heart, Naota said his emotions aloud. He expressed a sad, gentle smile.
"If you're going to dish it out...
You'd better be ready to take it."
On the brink of tears, it only took fourteen years of negativity (and getting the shit beat out of him), for Akemi to finally realize a major lesson in life. His brothers. They literally shared his pain. What reason was there to condescend against them? Why push away those around him when they were the closest thing to positivity that he'd ever reach. Why? Why. Why indeed. If only children weren't so stupid. That's life.
"I'm sor-
Before Akemi could finish his sentence, he saw pitch black.
Naota proceeded to undo the action of fixing the kid's nose. An unintentional consequence was that he also un-did the rest of Kishimoto's face.
Nevertheless, upon recuperating in the healing station, Akemi also reflected on his actions. He knew his social life was practically shattered, as well as his ego. Nevertheless, he decided to be the opposite of his past self for once. Even in the most humiliating and awful circumstances, he, for once, tried to see the positives in the scenario. Easier said than done, of course, but after apologizing profusely to Naoki and the rest of his younger peers, and surprised to see that even one of them managed to forgive him, he felt welcomed in this new philosophy. Granted, not all of the people he apologized to accepted; there are traumas far worse than physical scars, but for the meantime, he tried to be at peace. And though he may act as a saint, not all of the hatred within his heart has been expulsed. Much like any sorcerer, there is a permanent deep contempt for spirits; especially those who have murdered a close friend. And seeing the school allow a couple exceptions loose boiled his temper. Nevertheless, he tries. In the end though, he realized another lesson, aside from the major one that Naota taught. From that experience alone, he recognized another underrated yet important truth in life as well. No matter how strong a person may think they are-
there will always be a bigger man.
.
.
.
"Are...are you ok?" asked Naota.
Akemi had been staring off in space for the past 15 seconds; drool seeped down to the rice he was serving.
"Is... is he having a stroke?" asked Naota to Jungseong, who was standing right next to him.
"Why are you asking me 💀"
After a quick tap to the forehead from Naota, Akemi snapped back to reality.
"Oh- yeah! Sorry about that, here you go sir! I know you like your servings extra meaty."
Akemi scooped up an extra large portion of rice from directly beneath him. He happily plopped it down on Naota's tray.
"Th...Thanks... I guess" responded the teacher. Of course he didn't want to hurt Akemi's feelings so, he just went with it.
.
.
.
Akemi often reminisced about what happened to him, and even does a yearly ritual where he profusely apologized to Naoki.
"Dude you're so fucking weird 💀"
"I know, I know, but like, come on, at least take the offering."
Akemi would often raid Naoki's room by planting a bunch of candies and handy trinkets.
"A gift is fine like, gimme Hershey's White Chocolate but-
this is too much 💀"
"It's the least I can do to pay you back after all those times."
"Oh come on bro, get over it. I sure as fuck did. I know you were an asshole back then but like- we were kids;
We were ALL assholes. We were all sad and shit but now that we've grown up its like- why are you still on this dude? I don't care anymore 💀"
"Yes, yes, you keep saying this but, you already know this won't change."
"Yeah, wasted words, I know. And besides, I feel a lot more comfortable about what happened now."
"Why, because Naota disciplined me?"
"HE DID? Oh my...
based.
But no. I feel a looooot more comfortable now because-
I know I'd win against you."
Naoki shot a cocky smile towards his friend.
Akemi let out a soft chuckle
"Psh, if i'm being honest, I disagree but, I guess that's a question that won't be answered."
Akemi smiled softly.
"...
Man, back then you were an asshole-
but now you're just fucking boring"
"DUDE-"
And that's the way the cookie crumbles.