Chain 022: Fist of the North Star

Chain 022: Fist of the North Star
Location: Village of Miracles
Age: 12
Identity: Drop-In
Drawbacks: [+400] Young, Fated Foe
(Abilities: Savant, Stamina, Regeneration, Multitalent, Hyperkinesis, Alchemist, Trance Sleep, Achron, Lifting Yourself Up, Not Dark Enough)
[Free]      "Omae Wa Mou Shindeiru!"
[Free]      Dedicated Training
[300/1400]  Self-Taught Style
[400/1400]  Native
[500/1400]  The Stars Shine Upon Me
[600/1400]  Tenryuu Kokuu Hou
[800/1400]  Hikou Fuuji
[1000/1400] Suieishin
[1400/1400] Hokuto Shinken
[Free]      Weathered Cloak

Ending up in a post-apocalyptic wasteland is generally not my idea of a good time. It's nice to see that there aren't insane AIs running this one with a thin veneer of civilization spread over it, but by the same token, it instead seems to have been taken over by martial artists, with few people having any sort of weapons. And here I am, an empty vessel, intended for learning such things but not knowing them yet.

Village of Miracles, indeed. It was a miracle that everyone hadn't risen up against the man who called himself Toki. The wasteland was indeed a desolate place, but not so desolate that ingredients for my alchemy couldn't be found if I looked carefully enough. And so the people of the village were in better health than might have been expected, though I had to conceal my efforts lest I be discovered. Inevitably, though, I was. Tortured by a man who had no compunction against harming a child, who was looking for new pressure points, I was kept caged and chained. I was apparently an especially good specimen because I regenerated from any non-fatal injury - a harsh prospect indeed. And no matter how many times I escaped, I was recaptured.

And then Kenshiro came along. I had a front-row seat to his showdown with the unmasked Amiba, and he effortlessly shattered the chains that bound me. I begged to come along and follow him, after. Initially he refused, but I pointed out that I had just enough knowledge from being experimented on to be dangerous - to others, and to myself. But rather than be a danger with the bastardized style used on me, I wanted to learn the true style, so that I could use it to protect others from those like Amiba, who were little better than beasts wearing human form. He was still reluctant, but permitted it; I would never be the successor of the style after him, but I told him that was more than acceptable. I didn't need to learn it for my own ego, after all, but for others' sake. And when I told him of my true nature, my motivations were suddenly more understood - it would be permitted, he told me, but only on the condition that I not share it with others outside this world, as it could lead to great pain.

The travels were, to say the least, interesting. I generally was instructed to lay low early on, and the few times I did not, it was for the sake of helping where I could to assist. Ken was not always pleased by the actions I took, but I never used martial arts when I took such action, so I was forgiven; indeed, occasionally even praised for taking intelligent action. As time wore on and I learned more under his wing, I stood at his side - usually given the go-ahead to handle punks, but Kenshiro stepped in when it was clear that I was in over my head. I of course would never surpass my master - there is only so much one can learn in a relatively short period of time, in an environment not truly suited for teaching.

This was especially true for a few years I was sent to wander on my own, while he stayed with Yuria - I knew enough Hokuto Shinken to make a difference where I needed to, though my ambitions never turned to oppression. When rumors of a Hokuto Army reached my ears, however, I returned... but only soon enough, it seemed, to reach the final climax. To see a man, once the boy I jokingly called 'Brat', facing off against a blind and scarred man named Bolge... who was hellbent on killing both Kenshiro and his student. When I stepped in and identified myself, he recognized my voice - apparently I had blinded him in a fight that Kenshiro was present in. And Kenshiro himself, at present, had amnesia and was hardly in fighting shape.

The fight was not short, and was not pleasant. He was bigger. He had the advantage in strength - I'd never learned to amplify my strength as Ken could. But despite it all, I prevailed, if only because the wounds Bolge inflicted on me kept healing... and being blind, he had no way to see it. He was the first man I used the style's trademark technique on, and even up to the last instant when he exploded, he still continued to try to kill me.

It's ironic that this happened a matter of hours before my time in this world ended, but I was able to see Kenshiro and his nephew, the next successor of his style. It was a happy end to things, though; even though he knew I spoke the truth, it was so outlandish that I imagine Ken was relieved to get true confirmation when I disappeared.