"Touma Daigo."

Such a name invoked fear into every student, delinquent, and even older gang members around Kamagasaki–the infamous "most dangerous neighborhood" in all of Japan, located south of Osaka.

Even in such a place such as Kamagasaki, birthing violence by day and by night, the name invokes fear itself–but "Touma Daigo" is not the only name belonging to this individual:

"The Martial Arts King."

"The God of Brawling."

"The Reincarnation of Miyamoto Musashi."

–There are many titles given to this one man, but in truth, the fearsome epithets belong only to a young boy who is just barely entering his first year in high school.

[Nishimari High School]

Wearing his black blazer of his school uniform open, the young man of unimposing stature and what looked to be an average build marched through the halls with his silver locks swaying with each step he took.

As he walked down the halls, the students in his path made way for him as whispers passed by his ears.

"It's him…"

"That's the 'God of Brawling'!"

"Really?...Oh crap!"

Ignoring the whispers, the first year came to a stop as somebody blocked his path. A giant of a high schooler towered over him with their blazer hung on their shoulders.

The scar-faced man looked down at him, hardly looking like somebody that should be attending high school as a straw was tucked between his lips.

"...Is your name 'Touma'?" The blonde-haired delinquent asked him.

All of the chattering between the students came to a stop, the whispers quieted down, and the halls fell totally silent with all spectating the exchange of words between the two.

He looked up, having to strain his neck back to meet eye-to-eye with the burly delinquent, "Yeah, that's me."

The man who slung his blazer around his shoulders then lowered himself, bringing himself to eye level with the unimposing student.

"Yer' a helluva lot smaller than they say. I don't see it–this "Martial Arts King" everybody is ravin' about," the giant delinquent told him to his face.

He stayed silent, not breaking eye contact as his golden irises met with the malicious, hazel eyes of the sour-faced delinquent.

"I see. Mind if I pass through now?" He asked calmly.

The delinquent moved out of his way with a smile, "Sure thing, pal."

Just as his path was freed, he took a step forward though the two-faced delinquent had held his leg out in his path.

However, to the surprise of all watching this encounter, just before the leg of the silver-haired first year could clash against the obstacle in its way–he flipped forward seamlessly without first jumping.

The movement seemed almost supernatural without how effortless and swift it was, causing those who saw it to question what their eyes had shown them, as it looked as though the silver-haired first year hadn't made such a flashy move by his composed demeanor.

"What the–?" The delinquent began to sweat.

"Be more careful next time," he quietly said without looking back, moving on his way.

Before he could go on his way, the hand of the giant delinquent latched onto his shoulder, forcibly turning him around as a fist was being sent directly his way.

"--"

Gasps were audibly heard in the halls as instead of the clear outcome of the tanned, bandaged knuckles of the burly student crashing against Touma's nose, the fist was instead caught seamlessly in the first year's palm.

"Huh?!" The delinquent let out in surprise.

"Watch where you throw that thing," he said, looking up at the man with his cold, golden irises.

A sense of powerlessness flowed through the delinquent's body as his weight was suddenly that of a feather.

Huh? The delinquent thought.

It was perplexing; to the blonde-haired giant, the ceiling was the floor, and the floor was now the ceiling. A sickening feeling swirled in the colossal student's stomach as he realized what was going on–he was flipped through the air by the first year student who was less than half his size.

An act of redirection; with just a simple turn of his wrist, the silver-haired first year had flipped the delinquent twice his size into the air and over his head.

"--There you go," he said with a small smile.

–To the surprise of the delinquent, who had barely perceived what was happening, he landed back on his feet, though it was due to no effort of his own.

He…flipped me around? He could've sent me on my head, the delinquent realized.

Still, even failing twice wasn't enough of a warning for the boorish delinquent who clenched his teeth and balled his fists.

"Yer' goin' down!" The blonde-haired student cracked his knuckles.

He looked back at the delinquent, holding a disappointed expression at the fact that the giant student didn't seem to take the hint.

"Come on, man…It's the first thing in the morning," he sighed.

"I don' care! I won't have you disrespectin' the Great Juuya!" The delinquent roared, charging towards him with his fist reared back.

As a fist came sailing towards him, he kept his hands by his side, only evading it with minimal movement by shifting his head.

"Ghh-!!!" Juuya growled in anger.

The delinquent began throwing fists without any form or grace while the silver-haired young man weaved through the blows without flinching, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

In the halls, the gathered students watching commented:

"Holy crap…! He's the real deal!"

"I thought those videos online were edited…"

"The God of Brawling is no joke!"

"I'm posting this on Twotter for sure–I'll get ten thousand impressions!"

As an act of disrespect and rejection of his opponent, the golden-eyed first year slid his hands into his pockets while evading the formless punches.

Why can't I hit him?! Juuya thought.

"Come on, class is going to start soon," he told the delinquent calmly, ducking beneath one of the burly fists.

"Sh-shut up!" Juuya slurred his words.

He squinted his eyes, recognizing that the brutish delinquent wasn't going to back down as a glint embedded itself in his fierce, golden eyes.

…If you're not going to back down, then I'll finish this quickly, he thought, clenching his fists as his veins bulged on his fist.

–But, just before he could counter the barrage of fists coming his way, somebody suddenly stepped between the two.

"I'm putting a stop to this right now!"

Standing with his arms spread out was a student dressed prim-and-proper, wearing clear-lense glasses with straight, dark-blue hair.

Worn on the front of his neatly straightened sleeve was a special sleeve with the title written: "STUDENT COMMITTEE."

Simply put, he was as straight laced as it came.

"Huh?" Juuya stuck out his lip with an obvious vein protruding against his forehead, looking at the young man who got between the two.

Arima Tadashi, he thought.

He was familiar with the member of the student committee. In fact, he was pretty close friends with the straight-laced man.

However–

"Outta the way, shrimp!"

Without any mercy, the giant delinquent slammed his fist against Tadashi's cheeks, sending him flying back a good meter as he landed harshly on the ground with his glasses rattling onto the tiled floor.

He whistled, "Damn, he got you good."

Juuya held his fist up, fuming with a reddened complexion as he looked as if he was one moment from exploding, "C'mon! Let's continue this!"

"You might want to fix your priorities," he told the delinquent with a small smile.

"Huh?" Juuya squinted at him.

He pointed behind himself, "You just royally pissed that guy off."

Bringing the delinquent's gaze behind himself, the hot-headed giant watched as the student committee member rose to his feet, slowly picking his glasses up from the floor and brushing his uniform off.

Tadashi, however, did not place his glasses back on just yet, instead opting to put them on the silver-haired young man's hand as he walked past him, "Hold this for a moment."

"Sure thing," he smiled.

As Tadashi approached the perplexed delinquent, he tugged on the collar of his blazer, undoing it as he held a look of fury in his amethyst eyes.

"What the hell do ya' want, shrimp? Didn't have enough?!" Juuya raised his fist towards the student committee member.

But before the delinquent could throw a punch, the bottom of Tadashi's shoe was slammed against his nose with a flying kick.

"I will not tolerate such violence on my watch–!!!" Tadashi yelled out.

The picture-perfect kick sent the mighty delinquent flying back several meters, sliding across the tiles as he was knocked out cold with just that one move.

Talk about hypocrisy, he thought while watching.

Tadashi landed back on his feet, exhaling sharply before buttoning his blazer once again and turning back towards the silver-haired first year.

"My glasses, Touma," Tadashi said, holding his hand out.

"Yup," he said with a smile, tossing the glasses in the air.

Tadashi's stern expression loosened into shock as he frantically waved his hands in the air before catching his sight-assisting lenses, placing them on with a sigh.

In most cases, Tadashi was a stand-up young man with a bright future ahead of him; good grades, well-behaved, and connections that could score him a secured future. Yet, despite all of that, he was quick to violence.

"You need to be more mindful of school policy," Tadashi said, walking beside him.

He slung his bag over his shoulder, walking nonchalantly with the crowd of students watching in silent awe, snapping photos of the unconscious delinquent.

"Huh? He picked a fight with me," he raised an eyebrow.

"...Well, still…try not to draw such attention to yourself," Tadashi sighed, adjusting his glasses.

He looked forward, "Yeah, yeah."

Upon arriving in class together, sliding the door open, he was forced to immediately evade an incoming kick towards his head, catching the shoe of the kicker with a smile.

"Morning, Ishikawa," he said.

The shoot belonged to a youthful girl, who jumped back as he released her foot, landing flawlessly with a bubbly smile.

"Mornin' Daigo, Arima," the girl waved as her short, crimson hair bounced with her exaggerated movements.

Dressed in the winter uniform despite it being spring, which was a black, long-sleeve sweatshirt with a matching skirt that stopped just at her knees, paired with scarlet leggings.

Ishikawa Sachie, she's a character, that's for sure, he thought.

Just as he seated himself, at the desk in the back nearest to the window, of course, with Ishikawa sitting in front of him, and Tadashi seated to his left–the school chime played.

All of their classmates were already in as the absent homeroom teacher arrived in chaotic fashion–sliding the door open with a slam and dashing in swiftly.

"...On the dot," the scruffy-bearded man mumbled.

The teacher was an unorganized, unshaven man who looked as if he had just woken up ten minutes prior before stepping through that door.

While the lesson started, which was mostly the teacher, Mr. Yamato, yawning and groggily reading off words from his teacher manual, he lounged back in his seat.

"Psst, hey, Daigo, check it out!" Ishikawa whispered, getting him to look up.

"Huh?" He blinked a few times, leaning forward.

The scarlet-haired girl had her phone screen displayed in front of him as he blinked a few times with his almost mystical, golden eyes.

"You're going viral all over social media!" Ishikawa told him.

He looked at the screen as Ishikawa scrolled through the feed with her lithe finger, showing him all of the posts that were already garnering such attention hardly within the hour of the actual scene.

"The Martial Arts King is on the move again!" +1200 likes.

"This guy is totally insane! He made Juuya look like a dumb ape!" +3000 likes.

"...Is anybody else scared of that school committee guy? Seriously, that guy enforces the rules?!" +2 likes.

Seeing the posts, his expression didn't really budge–much to the disappointment of Ishikawa, who withdrew her phone with a sigh.

"What's with that look?" He asked.

"You're not even a little bit excited about all of the attention you're getting, Daigo?" Ishikawa asked.

He shrugged his shoulders, "It's not like I'm seeking it, or anything."

"Trouble just comes your way, huh?" Ishikawa sighed.

Only a smile came in response from him as he placed his hands behind his head of silver hair, leaning back before suddenly–SWOOSH.

A projectile flung towards him at a violent speed and lethal accuracy, though he caught the object in his hand flawlessly.

–A book.

The teacher up front withdrew his throwing arm, "Pay attention, Touma. Next time you might not be so fortunate."

He smiled, tossing the book back sharply with a flick of his wrist, "I'm listening."

Mr. Yamato caught the teacher manual right back before flipping it back open to the exact page he was on.

"As I was saying…" The teacher continued his lesson.