School

These past two years had changed me in ways I hadn't anticipated. I'd grown taller, stronger, and faster, my endurance increasing with every brutal sparring match against Yujiro. And lasting longer against him—that was a feat in itself.

In those two years, I met others who left their mark on me, fighters who had built their own legends: Biscuit Oliva and Mohammad Alai. My father's intentions were clear when he introduced me to them. He wanted me to fight, to test myself against these powerful men, to gauge my limits and, no doubt, to remind me how far I still had to go. I knew these fights weren't the same as sparring with Yuujiro, though. Alai and Oliva didn't go all-out, not the way my father did. They both held back, if only slightly, treating me more as a promising young fighter than as someone they'd crush without hesitation. Still, those fights gave me a chance to test my techniques and observe how my skills measured up.

My fight with Alai was intense but brief. His sheer height and reach gave him an advantage at first, but I exploited his lack of stamina, using my agility to evade his punches until he tired. It wasn't his lack of skill—he was an incredible boxer. But at my size and speed, his usual style didn't have the same effect. I managed to bring him down, and although it wasn't easy, it gave me the satisfaction of a hard-fought win. Oliva was another story. His raw strength and mass were nearly impenetrable. I tried everything I had—Aikido, speed, strategy—but he absorbed my attacks like they were nothing. It wasn't just his size but his endurance. He had a power that didn't fade, and though I didn't beat him, I learned. Every punch, every grapple, every move taught me something new.

And then there was the moment I'd never expect: meeting the president. His arrival was a spectacle, but beneath his polished exterior, I saw the fear. Not of me, exactly, but of what I could become. A shadow of Yuujiro, perhaps. I didn't ask for anything, but he offered benefits, privileges, and diplomatic ties. It was clear he wanted something, an alliance or maybe just my promise to stay in line. 

Beyond the fights and the political handshakes, there was something else. A feeling that had been growing inside me, an urge I couldn't explain. It was faint, like a pull from a world just beyond my reach, a whisper that grew louder each day. This strange power, this ability to travel to different worlds.

As I traveled the world with Yuujiro, he didn't hold back from exposing me to the brutal side of humanity. Warzones, conflict-ridden areas—he led me through places most people only see in nightmares. Blood and chaos were constant companions. Men, barely out of their teenage years, throwing themselves into death's grasp for causes that seemed abstract and empty. Watching them sacrifice everything for what felt like a fleeting purpose hit me harder than I expected. It was the first time I'd seen the raw consequences of strength and survival, and while it disturbed me, it also taught me an unsettling truth. When the day came, if it was necessary, I wouldn't hesitate to take a life.

Amid the violence and destruction, I found familiar faces. Doppo Orochi, the seasoned martial artist who'd trained me in the past, was also in China by chance during one of our stops. I could tell he didn't recognize me at first—Three years in Yuujiro's ruthless "training" had transformed me. But once he did, we talked. It felt strangely comforting, almost grounding, to reconnect with someone who'd seen me before I became whatever it was that Yuujiro was shaping me into. Doppo had gotten stronger too; it was clear he'd been pushing himself to new heights.

Despite the intense, often brutal experiences Yuujiro orchestrated, I found moments to escape back into my own world. The forest had stripped me of my reading habit, but I seized it back whenever I could, diving into books like they were lifelines to a different reality. And, surprisingly, I managed to find time to see the world beyond the chaos Yuujiro dragged me through. Sightseeing became an anchor of normalcy. I'd roam ancient temples, bustling markets, and quiet streets either alone or, if I had to, with a guide—someone oblivious to the life I led outside those tours.

--

Back on the private plane to Japan, the news from Yuujiro had been unexpected: I was going to school. Why he thought sending me to school was a good idea was beyond me, but I didn't protest. It sounded like a welcome change from the routine of fighting random martial artists or survival challenges he'd orchestrate in foreign lands. The thought of school even intrigued me a little. At the very least, it might be more engaging than endlessly battling his handpicked fighters. The only worry was being stuck in a classroom with actual children—could I even handle something that mundane?

When we landed and made the drive back to the mansion, Emi was there to greet us. Yuujiro had a full reunion with her, while I kept my distance, barely acknowledging her presence. Emi and I had become strangers under the same roof. She was as much a reminder of this life as Yuujiro was, and I didn't feel anything toward her anymore. I tried to make my way upstairs to my room, wanting a moment to myself before getting roped into whatever my father had planned.

But Yuujiro stopped me mid-step, blocking my way. "You still haven't gotten the information about your school," he said, his voice a mix of expectation and command.

"Okay, then tell me," I replied, irritated but resigned.

Yuujiro's gaze sharpened, his smirk widening ever so slightly. "Not before you say hello to your mother." There was a mocking tone in his voice, and I could see right through his tactics—just another small manipulation. Yuujiro didn't actually care if I greeted Emi. This was simply him exerting control, a reminder that even here, at home, my choices were limited.

A flash of annoyance shot through me, but I held my expression steady. This was another game of his, and I knew it wasn't worth fighting him on something so trivial. He was Yuujiro Hanma, after all, and small victories were still victories. Besides, I wanted to know more about this so-called "school" he was enrolling me in. If playing along meant I could finally get some semblance of a normal experience, I'd do it.

I turned toward Emi and gave a slight nod, enough to satisfy Yuujiro but not enough to let him think he'd actually won. "Hey." I muttered, barely meeting her eyes.

It was just a normal school. 

1 year time-skip

The last year has been a whirlwind of changes. The school wasn't anything special—just an ordinary place with classrooms, tests, and friends who didn't know the weight of my past. But it had become a haven of normalcy for me, a break from the relentless pressure of life with Yuujiro. Somehow, I'd managed to skip a few grades, ending up with students who were older, 17 or 18, making it easier to blend in, to act more like a normal person. My growth was constant; at nearly 7 years old, I'd reached 155 cm and towered over others my age. Life felt more balanced, with school in the day and training whenever Yuujiro decided to remind me of his brutal expectations.

After classes, my friends would often ask me to join them. I'd spent so much time in survival mode that being part of a group was refreshing, even grounding. But old habits were hard to shake; training had become part of my routine, and I'd introduced it to my friends, pushing them to be stronger in whatever way they could.

"Hey, Baki, want to do something today?" one of my friends asked as we left class. They had plans for the park, and for once, I didn't need convincing. "Sure, let's head there. We could get some training in," I replied, a grin sneaking onto my face. It wasn't just about pushing myself anymore. Watching them push their limits alongside me brought a sense of camaraderie I hadn't felt in a long time.

As we hit the park, one of them looked at me, shaking his head and chuckling. "Today, though? Come on, man, you're relentless! It's like you're some kind of machine. How do you do it?" he asked, his tone light but genuinely curious.

I laughed, brushing it off. "It's just some light cardio and basic strengthening. It's good for you," I replied. They didn't know my full routine, the relentless pace Yuujiro demanded, or the years of training I'd already endured, but they respected my drive. We set up for some casual exercises, and I kept it light, enjoying the balance between challenging myself and just being a kid among friends.

We ran through some drills, pushed each other's limits, and exchanged stories in between. The everyday moments—grabbing a bite afterward, laughing over inside jokes, and even the occasional lazy afternoon—felt like a piece of a life I'd nearly forgotten.

Hi everyone! I'd love it if you could drop a comment or review. I aim to upload a chapter each day. 

My plan is for Baki to enter the Dragon Ball universe next, starting with classic Dragon Ball. I'm debating either dropping him in at the 21st Tenka-Ichi Budōkai

or setting him up to train with Master Roshi. I might also have him gain ki by wishing on Shenron. Let me know if you have any fun suggestions!