Hayato saw the opportunity, knowing he was about to enter a world of power—with no special ability of his own. He clenched his fist, torn between anticipation and worry, fully aware that being smart alone was not enough to survive. Because he was one of the powerless, he could be as submissive and loyal as he wanted, but he knew the truth: if you had no power, your course was set in stone.
That was why Hayato decided that before the course of might began, he needed power.
Back at his house, he remembered what his grandfather used to say. In their small town of the powerless, there lived a samurai who slayed demons for a living. Remembering those words made Hayato wonder who that samurai really was.
The next morning, as he walked to school, he found his classmates—bullies—cornering another friend like him, someone powerless. Without thinking, Hayato rushed in to help. He was beaten down alongside his friend, bruised and helpless, until a rough-looking man appeared.
The man had two swords resting on his hips.
"Stop," the man said calmly.
The bullies froze.
"If you can't fight, then run," the man continued. "Don't be a hero. Heroes these days are overrated.
The bullies backed away slowly, fear written across their faces, before fleeing down the street. Hayato lay on the ground, struggling to catch his breath, staring up at the stranger who had just saved them.
"Get up," the man said, turning away. "Pain is a lesson. Don't forget it."
Hayato forced himself to stand. "Wait!" he called out. "Who are you?"
The man stopped but didn't turn around.
"In this town," the man said, "names don't matter. Only survival does."
Hayato's heart pounded. Two swords. Calm eyes. A presence that felt heavier than power itself.
"A-are you…" Hayato hesitated, remembering his grandfather's words. "Are you the samurai?"
For a moment, the street fell silent.
The man glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sharp but tired. "If you're looking for power," he said, "you won't find it by chasing legends."
Then he walked away.
But Hayato knew one thing for certain as he watched the man disappear into the crowd—this was no ordinary swordsman. And for the first time, the path set in stone before him began to crack.