There once was a young child that utterly despised fighting. Whenever his father, a Chinese martial arts instructor, brought him along to teach him, he instead ran back toward his mother, an African-American housewife, although he was always forced to train anyway.
His father was not a kind person in any sense of the word. He was rude to the people around him, and he was violent towards the boy and his mother if they didn't do what he wanted, although he luckily never laid a hand on the boy's younger sister. If he had, then maybe the boy wouldn't have stepped down the path that he had, simply because he would have hated his father far too much to care about his reasoning.
That reason for the boy's choice to follow this road was one quite simple thing — a Smile.
