"Ahhmm—ha…" I yawned aloud, raising my right hand to cover my open mouth as I tried to suppress my tiredness. After a moment, the yawn finally faded, and I lowered my hand, immediately returning my focus to the television.
Hey there, I'm Shiedo Natski.
Yeah, I know—your first thought is probably, "What kind of name is that?" Well, you can blame my parents for that one.
My mom's Korean, while my dad's Japanese. And they wanted my name to somehow reflect both sides of their culture. After what I can only assume was a legendary amount of arguing, debating, researching, arguing again, and maybe a little more arguing… they finally settled on "Shiedo" for my given name, with "Natski" as my surname.
Unique? Yes.
Confusing? Absolutely.
But hey—it's mine.
And for the longest time, I thought my life was supposed to be simple.
Wake up. Hide in my room. Watch anime until my eyes burn.
Sleep. Repeat. As am a very lazy guy.
If my grandfather were still alive, he'd probably smack the back of my head with that old wooden fan of his. "A man must polish his soul like a blade, boy!" he used to say.
And he meant it too—he trained me in martial arts from the time I was five. Punches, footwork, breathing technique, even how to keep calm when fear crawls into your bones.
Funny enough, out of everything I inherited, that's the only thing that stuck.
My parents? They're good people. Really good. They just… weren't there. Work, travel, more work—honestly, I barely saw them except for holidays or short weekends.
And as for my grandfather… well, he passed away about three years ago—just like my grandmother. When he left this world, it felt like he took a piece of mine with him.
Because of my parents' constant travels abroad, he was the one who always made time for me. He'd visit just to make sure I was eating properly, staying healthy, and still practicing. I really loved my grandfather.
So when he died, everything around me just stopped feeling interesting. The colors drained out of my life and my already laziness got way worse, and I became a total shut-in.
Anime, movies—mostly anime—became my escape. Watching characters struggle, fight, lose, grow… it made me realize something: my life was normal. Plain. Simple. And somewhere along the way, I stopped taking that for granted. Being normal wasn't bad. It was safe.
The only thing that really stood out about my life was my grandfather's obsession with making me train Aikido. He was completely crazy about it—but in the kind of way that makes you smile when you think back on it.
So I grew up alone mostly. Alone with anime, games, manga, and my grandfather's worn-out training scrolls.
A shut-in with a black belt and too much free time.
That's me. Or, well… was me.
That morning, everything started like usual.
I was binge-watching one of my favorite anime—though technically it was just a marathon repeat on TV, replaying the entire series from Season 1 to Season 3. It had been so long since I last watched it that rewatching it felt like returning to the moment I first fell in love with anime.
As I watched the anime play on the screen, I couldn't help think of a certain bunch of mc's and scoff at them. One thing I've noticed about a lot of isekai/ harem animes—and the most infuriating part is how they always happen. Some painfully average guy gets transported to another world or somehow gets an op power, and suddenly he's surrounded by insanely beautiful women.
Like, seriously. How is this guy pulling all these girls?
Some of this mc's are bland, awkward, half the time a complete pervert—and yet somehow every heroine falls head over heels for him. And instead of acting like an actual man, instead of committing through sex, and strengthening bonds, or even acknowledging what these girls feel, he just… gropes them.
In the middle of battles. In front of enemies. And somehow that makes him stronger?
What kind of logic is that?!
And don't even get me started on when the moment actually comes for him to step up. When it's time to man up and do the deed—what does do? Absolutely nothing! He just freezes and panics. He dodges the situation like it's a boss fight he's too scared to clear.
I honestly don't get how people like these protagonists. Is it really just so viewers can drool over the female characters? Because the MC sure as hell isn't doing anything worth respecting.
Seven seasons. Seven. And he still hasn't done anything meaningful with the first heroine—the one who was there from the start. She just watches him casually build a harem around her while he refuses to move forward. How is she that patient? No real person would tolerate that.
The more I thought about it, the more irritated I got.
If I were in that position—even though am hella lazy—I'd know when it was time to act. When it was time to claim what's mine. When it was time to draw a line and make things clear to the heroines and foes. You can't hesitate forever! You can't let this opportunities rot.
There's a time to wait… And there's a time to strike.
And those protagonists miss it every single time!!
After a while of ranting i stopped and continued on binge-watching the anime. And before I knew it, I stayed up way too late… and, of course, overslept.
When I finally opened my eyes and glanced at the clock beside my bed, my heart nearly exploded. 7:40 a.m. School started at 8:00 a.m. It normally takes me thirty minutes to walk there, meaning I was already guaranteed to be ten minutes late if I didn't do something drastic.
And I couldn't afford that.
Even if I was a hella lazy shut-in, everyone in school knew me as a straight-A student. I was always in the top five in the entire school, and I had never been late—not once. I refused to let today be the first time, all because I binge-watched an anime marathon.
It was one of the rules my parents made when they allowed me to keep living alone after my grandfather died. Instead of sending me to live with relatives like they originally planned, they made one condition: I had to maintain straight A's—no exceptions. If I slipped even once, it wouldn't just cause problems… it would shatter the quiet, detached, hella lazy shut-in life I'd built for myself.
So I knew one thing with absolute certainty:
I needed to get to school. Fast. No matter what.
I jumped out of bed, rushed to the bathroom, and stared at myself in the mirror. My reflection… well, it was just me. Slightly above-average looks, nothing crazy.
Black hair that always fell downward no matter what I did, black eyes, and facial features that looked like a half-mix of Korean and American—at least based on how actors looked in the movies I'd seen. Strange, I know, but that's how I always described it.
Not ugly, not stunning, just… somewhere comfortably in the middle.
I brushed my teeth at record speed, threw on my uniform, and bolted downstairs.
Thankfully, the toaster my family bought years ago had a timer, so I'd already prepped bread last night for emergencies like this. While running down the steps, I checked the time on my phone—terrible idea, because my stress shot up another level.
Just then, pop!
The toaster launched the bread like it was firing ammunition. I snatched it midair, shoved my feet into my shoes, grabbed my bag from the corridor, and burst out the door.
I munched on the toast as I sprinted down the street, chewing with the skill of someone who had practiced this exact scenario way too many times. But the more I ran, the more reality settled in:
There was no way I was making it on time.
Even at full speed, I'd still arrive three or four minutes late. Unless I suddenly unlocked teleportation, ran like Sonic, or awakened chakra and bent time itself, I was doomed.
…Unless.
There was one option.
I could cut through Largin's territory—and take the infamous shortcut.
Everyone in my neighborhood knew the largin territory was dangerous. The type of place where drug dealers, gangsters and thugs spawned like low-tier mobs.
My parents warned me, teachers warned all students, my dead grandfather probably warned me in spirit form too.
But I had no choice.
"Ah screw it," I muttered, gripped hard on my bag, turned around to my left fast and sprinted.
The reason I turned left was simple—Largin Territory was on that side. If I wanted to make it on time, this was my only shot.
While sprinting, I cut through my neighbors' yards, hopping over low fences and landing in patches of grass one yard at a time. I kept my speed, pushed forward, and soon reached the old construction site that everyone in the neighborhood avoided.
A tall line of wooden barricades blocked the way, but I already knew where the weak spot was. I crouched down, slipped through a broken gap at the bottom, and pushed my way inside.
And just like that…
I had officially entered Largin Territory.
I kept walking, every muscle tight, every sense awake. I was ready to bolt—or fight—if anyone showed up. But even after two whole minutes passed, and something felt wrong.
There was no sound.
No voices, no distant footsteps, not even the chirp of a single bird. It was as if this entire area had been muted by some unseen hand. My stance loosened a little, but my guard stayed high as I continued forward.
Passing by a narrow alley, a harsh smell punched my nose—rust and old beer, thick and sour. The walls were drowned in layers of graffiti, colors clashing violently. Cracks split the concrete below, broken glass scattered everywhere, reflecting the sun like tiny, sharp mirrors.
I stared for just a second… then faced forward again, keeping my pace steady. Breathing the way Grandpa had drilled into me.
Then I heard it.
A scream.
High, sharp, terrified—a girl's voice.
I froze instantly. My whole body locked, coiled like a spring ready to explode.
My thoughts spun into chaos. A storm of fear, laziness to figure things out, logic and most of all instinct.
I already knew what that scream meant. Someone was in trouble. Something bad was happening. But I didn't want anything to do with it. I just wanted to get to school. That was all.
So I lowered my head, stared at the ground, and forced myself to keep walking.
One step.
Two steps.
Three.
…And I stopped.
My human side clawed at me, fighting my logic, refusing to let me leave. I kept thinking, damn! Why was a girl even here? She knew this place was dangerous. It should've been her fault!
But no matter how hard I tried to justify it… I couldn't.
Slowly, I turned around. My head still lowered. I then released a heavy audiable sigh of frustration, then slowly i lifted my gaze—my eyes were now cold, focused, unshakable.
Then I walked straight into the alley.
Then I saw it.
Three men stood over a girl wearing the female version of my school uniform. She was on the ground, trembling, her skirt torn, her pink undergarments exposed. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes wide with pure terror.
One man pinned her wrists to the concrete.
The other two towered beside him, their shadows stretching over her like monsters—grinning, laughing, their faces twisted with sick, hungry expressions.
For a moment, everything inside me went silent.
Cold.
Empty.
Focused.
Those three weren't just "men."
They were predators wearing human skin.
Seeing this sight, something in me snapped.
Before I even realized it, my feet had already moved. I stepped deeper into the alley, the shadows swallowing me until I stood only a few meters away.
My voice slipped out before my brain caught up.
"…What are you doing?"
All three thugs jerked their heads toward me.
The one pinning the girl down froze mid-grin, confusion twisting across his filthy face.
"The hell?" He spat to the side. "Oi, kid. This ain't your business."
The second thug—tall, greasy hair, a scar cutting across his cheek—took one lazy step forward, sizing me up like I was some stray cat that wandered in by accident.
"You lost or something?" he asked, smirking. "This is Largin territory. People who walk in uninvited… don't walk out."
The third one, built like a fridge with anger issues, cracked his knuckles loudly.
Crack. Crack.
He stepped right into my face, breath smelling like rot and cheap alcohol.
"Listen, brat," he growled, grabbing my collar slightly and leaning close, "turn around and get the hell out. Don't you see what we're about to do?"
His grip tightened.
"Unless you wanna get hurt. We're part of the Largin Gang. Ever heard of us?"
His grin stretched wide as his friends snickered behind him.
"You better start running before we decide to warm up on you."
For a moment, I said nothing.
I just stared at him.
Not scared. Not shaking.
Just… disappointed.
I spoke quietly. Calmly.
"…Let go."
He blinked. "What?"
My eyes narrowed.
"I said. Let. Go."
He barked out a laugh. "Or what, anime boy? You gonna hit me with a Rasengan?"
His friends laughed louder.
"One more second," I said softly. "And you'll regret touching me."
He shoved me.
That was it.
Something inside me finally broke.
My grandfather's voice echoed in my skull:
"Aikido is not power. It is harmony. Let your opponent give you everything—then return it to them."
Then, suddenly, I remembered.
A memory surfaced—one I didn't even realize I had forgotten. It felt as if my mind had deliberately buried it, pushing it aside because I didn't need it back then.
And now, for some reason… it had decided this was the moment to return it to me.
Almost as if my brain whispered, Now you're ready to remember.
Flashback—7 years ago
Natski Family Aikido Dojo
The wooden floor was cold beneath my feet.
Ten-year-old me stood in front of my grandfather, carefully fixing my aikido gi. My hands moved automatically, practiced, disciplined. When I finally looked up, I noticed his expression.
It was serious. Far more serious than usual.
"Shido," my grandfather said slowly, his eyes never leaving mine, "I remember telling you something a long time ago. But you were still very young back then… so I doubt you remember."
I straightened without realizing it.
"I've noticed something about you," he continued. "Something strange. Whenever you're in a fight—real or training—you get this look on your face."
He paused, as if choosing his words carefully.
"It's as if… you're enjoying it."
My fingers froze on the fabric of my gi.
"The more dangerous the fight becomes," he said quietly, "the more exhilarated you look."
He studied me closely, as though trying to see past my skin.
"I don't know where you got it from. It isn't from your father's side, and it certainly isn't from your mother's. It didn't come from me, and not from your grandmother either."
A faint frown appeared on his face.
"So I don't know where it came from. But listen carefully."
His voice hardened—not angry, but firm.
"You must always control your emotions. Because that side of you… it can either be used against you, or you can turn it into a weapon against your enemy."
That was when I understood why he chose aikido.
"That's why I'm teaching you this," he continued. "Aikido isn't about aggression. It's about balance. Control. Calmness under pressure."
He exhaled slowly.
"I wanted to teach you many martial arts. But the moment I saw that expression on your face for the first time, I knew I couldn't give you anything overly aggressive. It would only feed that side of you."
His gaze softened—just a little.
"Aikido is what I know. And I believe… it's what's best for you."
Then he paused.
The silence stretched, heavy and deliberate.
"…So remember this."
He looked straight into my eyes.
"Never—ever—show that side of yourself to anyone. Unless it's someone you completely trust. Someone who will not judge you."
His voice dropped even lower.
"And if you have no one like that… then never show it at all. Not even to yourself."
Another pause.
"Unless it is truly necessary."
Ten-year-old me swallowed hard.
I nodded.
"I promise," I said quietly. "I'll never show my true nature to anyone. Not even to myself."
My grandfather said nothing more.
Flashback End!
In that moment i didn't ponder on why this memory was surfacing now, instead i inhaled in air once.
Then exhaled it.
Then i moved.
The thug who grabbed me didn't even have time to blink.
I seized his wrist with both hands—
STEP. TURN. DROP.
—and redirected his shove into a vicious arm lock. His shoulder popped as I twisted, the joint sliding halfway out of its socket.
"GAHH—!!"
Before he could scream again, I pivoted my heel—
BAM!
Planted my foot into his sternum and sent him crashing into the wall behind me.
He crumpled instantly, gasping like a fish, arms limp.
The scar-faced thug lunged at me from the side, swinging wildly.
I didn't step back.
I stepped forward.
Aikido teaches one thing: Enter the attack.
I slid inside his swing, slammed my shoulder under his armpit, grabbed his momentum—
—and launched him over my hip.
THUD!!
He hit the ground so hard the concrete cracked beneath him.
Before he could rise, I rotated my body, hooked his wrist with a locking grip, and—
CRACK!
Bent his elbow backward until it snapped like a twig.
His scream echoed through the alley.
The last thug—the biggest one—rushed me with a roar, fists flying in violent, sloppy patterns.
He was strong.
Too strong.
A weird smile almost crept across my face before i once more controlled my emotions.
But strength without technique is nothing.
He threw a heavy right hook—
I slipped past it.
He swung again—
I redirected his arm with a small circular parry.
He tried to grab me—
I pivoted, letting his hand glide past harmlessly.
"STOP MOVING, YOU LITTLE—!!!"
His fist came down like a hammer.
I caught his wrist in midair.
His eyes widened—
Too late.
I twisted.
Hard.
SHHH-CRACK!!
His wrist bent sideways, bones grinding under the pressure.
Before he processed the pain, I stepped behind him, trapping his arm in a brutal lock, used his momentum—
—and slammed him face-first into the concrete.
BOOM!!
His entire body jolted.
He tried to push himself up.
I stomped on his elbow.
CRUNCH.
Another scream. Another broken bone.
Silence followed.
Only the girl's quiet sobs filled the space.
I stood there, breathing steadily—not from exhaustion, but from the calm after impact.
All three men were on the ground.
Broken.
Writhing.
Whimpering.
No dramatic speech. No heroic pose.
Just cold, efficient Aikido.
Exactly as Grandpa taught me.
With the three men down.
I grabbed the girl's arm gently and rose her up to her feet.
"Are you okay?"
She trembled. Nodding her head being to scared to voice a word. I understood her so i didn't ask anything more.
As i helped the girl out of the alley, her steps shaky but determined, I suddenly heard movement behind us.
The thugs.
Even with their arms twisted, ribs bruised, and pride shattered, all three of them somehow staggered back to their feet. They leaned on the wall, clutching their injuries, but their mouths still worked just fine.
"Y–You bastard…!" one hissed through clenched teeth.
Another pointed at me with a trembling hand, his face swollen and red. "You think this is over!? You think you can just walk away after doing this to us!?"
The last one—his wrist still bent unnaturally from the throw I gave him—spat blood to the side. "You messed with the wrong people, kid! The whole Largin Gang's gonna be after you now! You hear me!? You're dead! DEAD!"
They started limping toward us, trying to look intimidating despite barely being able to stand straight.
The girl beside me flinched and grabbed my sleeve.
I didn't move.
I just slowly turned my head and stared at them.
A single glare.
Cold. Heavy and focused.
The same glare my grandfather used to give those training dummies before breaking every bone inside them.
All three froze instantly.
Their bravado cracked like glass.
Their shoulders stiffened. Their eyes widened. And I watched their tough-guy act crumble in real time.
The one with the broken wrist stumbled back, shaking. "Tch—! F-Forget this…!"
"Y-Yeah, whatever! You—you just wait!" another yelped, nearly tripping over himself as he backed away.
They turned and scrambled out of the alley, running with limp, uneven steps.
"Y-You hear me!?" one screamed from a distance, his voice cracking. "We'll get our revenge! Prepare yourself!"
"You can't hide forever!" another added, his voice fading as they disappeared. "We'll find you no matter where you go!"
Their shouts echoed through the alley… but not once did I blink.
Not once did I look away.
When silence finally returned, I exhaled slowly and turned back to the girl.
"…Let's go."
And this time, we walked out of Largin Territory together.
As I walked with the girl toward school, she suddenly tugged on my sleeve, stopping me in my tracks. I turned to look at her, confused.
"Yui?" I asked.
"Huh?" she replied, her brow furrowed slightly.
"Yui Momo—that's my name. W-what's yours?" she asked nervously.
"Shiedo Natski," I answered.
"Sh-ie-do N-a-t-s-k-i," she whispered to herself, almost tasting the syllables on her tongue.
"Shiedo, would you mind escorting me back to my place, pretty please?" she asked, looking at me with hopeful eyes.
I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden request. "Uh… sure," I said, trying to sound casual while my heart skipped a beat.
But i knew it wasn't for what i imagined so i just smiled slightly, nodding. After that, I made sure to walk Yui all the way to her apartment, ensuring she got home safely.
When we finally reached her home about 20-minutes later, I realized Yui didn't live in a house at all—it was an apartment building.
She lived on the second floor, fourth door on the left: Room 207.
I was honestly surprised by how many rooms the first floor had, but I didn't think much about it.
I waited outside the door while Yui walked ahead. Suddenly she stopped, turned back to me, and smiled.
A beautiful smile—the kind that freezes you in place. I was completely stupefied.
"Thank you, Shiedo," she said softly. "You really saved me. I didn't realize how scared I was until it was over… I thought no one would come. I thought I might lose something precious. I even thought I might… do something to myself if it continued. But because of you, I'm safe. Truly… thank you. I hope we can keep seeing each other at school. I'm sure we'll meet again. But for now… I might need some time to process everything."
I could barely speak. I just nodded, stunned —not just by her words, but by her beauty.
It was only in this moment that I truly saw Yui. During the incident—what I was now calling the Largin Alley Attack—things had been so serious, so chaotic, that I hadn't had a second to take in any details about her.
But now… i saw her completely.
Yui had long, bubble‑gum‑pink hair that fell gracefully to her shoulders. Her figure was striking— with a slim waist, soft curves, and a generous chest and a natural confidence in the way she carried herself.
Her torn skirt revealed her long slender legs while hugging her form just enough that I caught myself thinking, damn…this girl has an ass. The kind that if i held i wouldn't let go for a long while.
She was the kind of girl who just by passing by made guys turn their heads without even realizing they were doing it, even if they were walking with their girlfriends.
And her eyes… A gentle, light violet that pulled you in the longer you looked.
I immediately felt bad for thinking such perverted thoughts of Yui especially after what she almost went through.
But that thought later on faded and i managed a small smile and nodded again. Yui finally slipped into her apartment, and I turned around to head home.
What I didn't know was that, as I walked away, Yui who now was on the the second floor was watching my back with the eyes of a girl who had fallen deeply in love with someone.
But what type of love exactly, that i couldn't tell you yet.
But later on… I would. Oh god would i truly.