When Akira used to race into her quaint home, littered with fresh cuts, and bread squished in her arms, her grandmother used to clean her wounds and tell her that there were no bad people in this world. There were just people. Just regular people doing whatever it takes to survive.
Akira always thought it was a stupid thing to say.
There are bad people in this world, and she considered herself one of them.
Growing up in a poorer town meant you could never think twice about stealing a loaf of bread from the street vendors when they weren't looking. It meant watching your back at all times, and it meant sacrificing everything just to keep a roof over your head. Akira knew from a young age that it was wrong. She knew that what she was doing would one day come back and haunt her. But she continued doing it. Because if she didn't, she and her family would die.
It was simple, really. You either kill or be killed. A tough concept for a young girl to grasp, yet she understood. She lived with her grandparents which meant it was her duty to take care of them. They were old and couldn't do the things Akira could.
As she got older, she slowly became accustomed to these rules. She began killing without remorse, and she began to drift slowly away from that little girl who knew what she was doing was wrong. It wasn't her fault, however. She blamed her kills on the nations that separated from her own. Elestren, Trebond and Lebberat. Akira belonged to Trebond, and despite it being a poorer country, she always felt defensive of it. That's why she made it her mission to avenge Trebond. She would kill the leaders of Lebberat and Elestren, and take their kingdoms for herself, and her nation.
It was only a matter of how.