Identity

I went for a break for a few days and everyone thought this is getting dropped. The updates are going to be alternative days for nowadays. Also, this fanfiction will not be dropped as it is a practice for a martial novel I am working on.

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On the other side of the Dojo, Ohma was stretching and preparing himself for a bit of self-training as Hayato appeared behind him.

"Something on your mind?" Hayato asked casually. "You looked dissatisfied."

"It was that stupid speech you gave." Ohma didn't bother training to hide it. "That sort of stuff just makes me want to groan."

"Oh, you disagree with my thoughts on Martial Arts?" Hayato seemed interested in this.

"Not everyone is here to learn to protect themselves or others. I don't want to protect others, I want to be strong." Ohma told him.

"I didn't know there was a difference," Hayato replied still being calm.

"There is a difference. When I fight, I don't think about defending the person behind me, all I care about is winning." Ohma clarified. "All Martial Arts are built around the premise of winning, that's what you said right? That premise is what got me into Martial Arts in the first place."

"Yes, but I also said that Martial Arts can become nothing more than brutish violence if misused." Hayato reminded him.

"When have I ever minded brutish violence?" Ohma reminded him. "Besides, Martial Arts at its core is about defeating your opponent, things like honour or conscience are characteristics of the user, unless you beat your opponent, the rest of it doesn't really matter much."

"I suppose there is some truth to that," Hayato admitted before asking. "But tell me, son. From what I've gathered, you have a good sense of right and wrong, you don't use your strength to abuse others and you used it to defend your friends or acquaintances when they need you, abandoning them never crosses your mind." He summarised. "In fact, you once reprimanded Kenichi for training ignore a cry for help once. So despite all that, why do you have no desire to protect others?"

"It's something I call my style," Ohma answered honestly.

"Your style?" Hayato repeated intrigued.

"It's something I based my motivation to fight around." Ohma began to explain. "That means not worrying about flimsy concepts, righteousness or maliciousness, my main focus in a fight is to win. I fight in order to gain more power and I gain more power in order to fight. But all that means nothing if I'm not strong enough to beat my opponents because winning against the strong proves that I'm the Strongest." He finished with a look of determination. "In simple terms; I don't want to protect I want to win."

Hayato quietly looked at him, more specifically the look in his eyes. He then felt a sense of nostalgic tranquillity as he remembered seeing that gaze before from someone else.

'He really does resemble him...' Hayato thought before turning around. "Well, you can always choose to ignore the ramblings of this old man if that's what you want, but remember this. There are many different kinds of strengths and ways to achieve them. Sometimes, honour can aid you more than aesthetics."

With those words of wisdom, Hayato started to walk away. Ohma gave his words so thought but decided not to dwell on them.

***************

Meanwhile, over in another part of town, there was a meeting taking place at Kisara's hideout. Right now Kisara was sitting on her large chair and playing a handheld game console while a few of her guards were around the room.

Standing before her was a tall guy with slightly tanned skin, long flowing mop-cut styled dark-brown hair, and a rough face with a sharp glare in his eyes. He was a few inches taller than Takeda and had a slightly more muscular build than Ukita. He was wearing a long dark-blue coat with long pants that were the same colour, brown wrist guards on his arms, and flat-soled flop shoes.

This was Shinnosuke Tsuji. Like Kisara, he was an executive member of Ragnarok.

"What's the deal Kisara?" Tsuji asked with his arms crossed. "First, you sure are taking your sweet time trying to recruit new fighters, second; you are failed to recover our lost territory from some rich brat. This thing's gonna go down any day now and you're acting like it's no big deal."

"Shut up, Tsuji." Kisara drawled, more focused on her game.

Tsuji looked fed up and snapped at her. "This isn't a joke, Kisara! We need a group of tough guys A.S. A . P!"

"I told you to shut up." Kisara looked up at him with irritation. "You got my character killed." She complained.

"You know the problem here?" Tsuji sounded completely annoyed. "It's him! None of this would be happening if you let me handle things instead of that Boxer wannabe—"

"Hey, Kisara!" Tsuji was interrupted when Takeda and the other two walked into the room. "We just found out that Shirahama kid hangs out on the school roof during lunch, and odds are the other guy is bound to be with him," Takeda reported as they stopped in front of her chair. "Give us one more day and we've got them."

"Hey, what's your problem, Lightweight?" Tsuji reprimanded him. "You're not gonna say hello to an executive member?"

"I could have sworn I said 'Hey Kisara' when I came in," Takeda responded sarcastically.

"You gotta respect your higher-ups." Tsuji glared at him. "You may not work for me directly, but I'm an executive member and you're just a grunt. Say hello, punk."

Takeda glared back at him. "I said hello to the one who matters."

Tsuji then got in his face. "Oh yeah, you really think you're pretty slick, don't you?"

CLASH!

In a second, Tsuji threw a right punch at Takeda's head, and Takeda intercepted it with his right arm, the result was both of their arms locked in a struggle which ends when Tsuji casually pulled his arm back.

"You sure are jumpy, I was just stretching my arm." Tsuji casually defended himself. "Oh by the way, do you need this?" He opened his hand and showed him he was holding a button. "It's the button from your sleeve."

Takeda looked and noticed his button was taken, though Tsuji had a smug expression Takeda returned it with his own. "No thanks, I've got plenty." Takeda opened his own hand and showed him he had five buttons, all of them were from Tsuji's coat.

With the buttons gone, a part of Tsuji's coat opened, but Tsuji just chuckled. "Heh, not bad Lightweight. But know something? Just 'cause you're fast doesn't mean you can save yourself in a fight."

As the two of them were in a faceoff, no one in the room dared to make a sound due to the pressure they were both giving off.…. Except for one person.

"Daaaaahhh! Dammiiiiiiiiit!" Kisara let out an angry roar that got everyone's attention. "If my character dies one more time! Then your all dying with him!" She threatened them.

*************

The next day, somewhere in another town, inside a wide alley, one girl in yellow was facing against three other girls wearing white surrounding her.

"Get her." The first girl in white rushed forward. The girl in yellow was faster, she ducked and delivered a quick uppercut to the chin.

The second one came and the girl in yellow again did the same, ducking under and then knocking out with a quick uppercut. The third one came ready, keeping some distance but she went down with a swift front kick.

"I am not here to play around." The girl in yellow said. "Never ever bother me again."

"Fuck," One of the girls got up and pulled a pocket knife out of her pocket. "Now you are dead."

The girl rushed forward, knife in hand, and then her motion came to a sudden halt as someone else's hand gripped her wrist. She didn't know how but suddenly she felt a force pulling her off her feet, flipping her over and smashing her onto the ground.

"These things again," Ohma said picking up the knife beside the fallen girl before throwing it away. He looked at the girl and asked, "You alright?"

"I am, but who are you." She snapped stepping back.

"Easy there," Ohma said stepping back, "I just saved your life."

"By almost getting stabbed." She said with pointed down, then Ohma noticed the small red line on his forearm.

"Just a tiny cut," Ohma said, he was getting too careless.

The girl approached him before putting her hand out with a cartoonish bandaid. "Here, take this."

The girl was now in clear view in a long-sleeved yellow shirt. She looked to be about Ohma's age, pretty and had short blonde hair that went down and covers both sides of her ears.

"Thanks." Ohma took it before shrugging his shoulders.

"My name is Takako Kawashima and you..." The girl said before asking. "Also why are you are how did you throw a girl like that? Aikido or Jiu-Jitsu?"

"The name is Ohma Tokita," Ohma said applying the bandaid before continuing, "Also..."

"It's not Aikido or Jujutsu." An unfamiliar voice came from the alley entry.

Ohma turned to see the familiar face of Mitsuhide Kuroda. The last time Ohma saw him was just a few days ago.

"Although it's similar, it's exactly not that," Kuroda commented.

Ohma stepped forward, closing in on Kuroda. "But she isn't entirely wrong... Niko Style is very much inspired by Classical Jiu-Jitsu."

Ohma put forward his hand. "Ohma Tokita."

Kuroda gripped Ohma's hand. "Kuroda Mitsuhide."

Then they both applied the pressure and the battle of strength began.