As I finished my meal, I didn't bother cleaning up. The satisfaction of cooking and eating had settled into me, but I wasn't in the mood to linger in the kitchen. The house felt too suffocating, too quiet. Yuujiro and Emi were out somewhere, probably on their own strange business, so I took the opportunity. No one could stop me.
The servants saw me heading for the door, their faces shifting between concern and duty. A few of them made weak attempts to intercept me, asking if they should get someone to follow or at least accompany me. I didn't wait to hear the rest of their offers.
I ran.
The feeling of wind against my face, of actually moving toward something instead of being stuck in that house, was exhilarating. I wanted freedom. I wanted to be around people—real people—not just servants or trainers or my insane parents. I wanted to talk, laugh, be part of something normal for once.
I made my way toward the city, which was only about five kilometers from the mansion. It was a small distance, but for me, it felt like crossing worlds. The closer I got, the more I could hear the hum of life—cars, voices, laughter, the sounds of everyday life.
By the time I reached the city streets, I felt an odd sense of relief. It was as if stepping into that bustling environment washed away some of the tension that always sat heavy on my shoulders. The people walking by had no idea who I was. I wasn't Baki Hanma here. I was just... a kid.
For the first time in a long while, I felt... human.
I wandered through a few shops, nothing too fancy—just regular places selling food, clothes, and random knick-knacks. I struck up casual conversations with people in the stores, asking about the weather or the products on sale. I wasn't trying to be Baki the fighter or Baki the survivor. I was just a curious kid exploring the world.
Some of the shop owners looked at me funny, probably wondering why a kid was out here alone. A few even asked where my parents were, but I brushed off their questions with casual, vague answers. I wasn't going to start explaining the madness that was my family.
For that short time, everything felt... good. Normal. I soaked in the atmosphere, watching people go about their day—buying groceries, walking with friends, arguing about small things. It was the kind of life I had missed, the life I had been taken from when I was thrown into the insane world of martial arts and survival.
But like all good things, it didn't last.
After many hours of freedom, a sleek black car pulled up beside me as I was walking down a quieter street. I recognized it immediately—one of the cars from the mansion. My time was up.
A man in a black suit stepped out and gave me a polite but firm nod. "Yuujiro Sama sent me to pick you up," he said, his voice smooth but without warmth.
I sighed. I knew I couldn't run forever. There was no escaping the world I was in, no matter how many city streets I walked or how many normal conversations I had.
Without saying a word, I got into the car. As it pulled away from the city and back toward the mansion, I watched the people on the streets fade into the distance. For a brief moment, I had been part of their world. But now, I was heading back to mine.
Without saying a word, I got into the car. As it pulled away from the city, I watched the people, the streets, and the life I had just tasted fade into the distance. For a brief moment, I had been part of their world—a world where things made sense, where people lived normal lives. But now, I was heading back to mine. Back to the mansion. Back to Yuujiro.
When we arrived, I was greeted by two very different faces. Yuujiro stood there, his expression dark, and beside him, Emi hovered with a mix of worry and relief. She looked like she wanted to say something, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to stand there and listen to whatever lecture or concern they had prepared for me. I had just had the best afternoon of this life, and nothing they said mattered.
Whatever punishment or scolding Yuujiro had in mind was meaningless to me now. I was determined—I'd run away every chance I got, break free from their control even if only for a few hours. One day, I'd run for good. One day, I'd come back and make him regret everything. That day would come, and I'd be strong enough to make sure of it.
For now, though, I had to deal with them. Yuujiro's eyes were sharp, burning with that quiet fury that could shake anyone to their core. And Emi—her worry didn't move me anymore. Not after everything she had let happen.
Before they could even say a word, I shot them a grin that felt more defiant than cheerful. "Hey, had a great day. I'm tired. Hope you don't mind if I go to sleep now. Ok, bye."
I turned and ran. Ran before Yuujiro could even react, before Emi could try to ask me questions. And to make sure I didn't get caught in whatever Yuujiro was about to unleash, I used the Cockroach Dash—my body flowing like liquid, propelling me forward faster than I'd ever moved before. I didn't look back. I didn't need to. I knew he was mad. I could feel it.
The whole house shook, as if a massive earthquake had just hit. I could hear things crashing and walls cracking as Yuujiro's fury sent shockwaves through the building. But I didn't stop. I kept running until I reached my room and slammed the door behind me. My heart pounded in my chest, not from fear but from the sheer thrill of getting away—if only for now.
I collapsed onto the bed, still buzzing with adrenaline. The walls were still shaking. But I didn't care. For once, I had outrun Yuujiro—escaped his grip, even if just for a few moments.
I let out a long breath, a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot. But tonight, I won. And that was enough. For now.
Morning came too soon. I woke up before anyone else had the chance to disturb me. No knocks on the door, no cries from Emi, no booming commands from Yuujiro. Just the quiet hum of the mansion around me. A moment of peace.
I dragged myself out of bed, heading for the bathroom. The hot water hit my skin, waking me up fully, washing away the fatigue of the night. It felt good. Too good, maybe. I almost didn't want to leave the shower. But the hunger in my stomach reminded me that I needed something to eat.
I headed to the kitchen, feeling surprisingly light on my feet. This time, I wasn't in the mood for anything heavy—just something light, something simple. I grabbed some yogurt and fruit, sitting down at the table. For a moment, it was just me, the quiet, and the food in front of me.
Then I heard him. Yujiro's footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. He entered the kitchen, sitting himself down across from me. I didn't flinch, didn't even look up.
He spoke, his voice as calm and commanding as ever. "We are going to take some trips around the world."
I didn't even hesitate. My answer was simple, defiant. "No."
I wasn't in the mood for one of his ridiculous training trips. Not this soon. Not again. Not after the hell I'd just been through on that mountain. I wasn't going to be dragged into some jungle or desert, not right now.
Yuujiro didn't react the way I expected. There was no anger, no frustration. He stayed calm, like a storm on the horizon that hadn't quite arrived yet. "It's time I teach you about high society," he said, his voice smooth, almost casual. "Now that you're strong, I said I would teach you manners. And it's going to happen."
Manners? That word almost made me laugh. Yuujiro Hanma, the most brutal man alive, teaching me manners? The absurdity of it felt like a joke. But I didn't laugh. Instead, I just sat there, the yogurt and fruit suddenly tasting like ash in my mouth.
Trips around the world. High society. Manners. This was just another test, another form of torture. Yuujiro didn't care about teaching me how to live in society—he cared about breaking me down, piece by piece, molding me into whatever twisted version of a "man" he thought I should be.
But I wasn't going to let him control me. Not anymore.
"I don't care about high society," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "And I don't need your lessons."
Yuujiro's smile didn't waver. If anything, it grew sharper, more dangerous. "You'll learn, whether you want to or not." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "You're strong now, Baki. But strength isn't enough. You need to learn how to navigate the world. How to use your power in more than just a fight."
I could feel the tension rising between us again, the same tension that had been building for years. The push and pull between father and son, between predator and prey. But this time, I wasn't going to back down. Not anymore.
"I'm not going anywhere," I said, standing up from the table, pushing my chair back with a deliberate scrape across the floor. My voice was firm, but inside I could feel the tension building, like a spring wound too tight. I met his eyes, refusing to back down. "If you want to teach me, do it here. Otherwise, leave me alone."
Yuujiro didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just sat there, watching me like a predator sizing up its prey. That dangerous smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze like a weight pressing down on me. It was like standing in front of a storm, knowing it could tear you apart but daring it to try.
Yuujiro sat there, his eyes fixed on me, daring me to challenge him. His mocking words hung in the air, daring me to make a move. "I can always carry you like a sack of rice," he said, voice low and dripping with amusement, but there was that familiar edge, the one that told me he wasn't joking. "Either you come, or you beat me up. It's that easy."
I stared at him, my muscles tense, frustration boiling beneath the surface. I wasn't going to let him control me, not this time. Without thinking, I lashed out—kicking the table in front of me straight at his face. Plates, glasses, and food went flying as the table slammed into him with a satisfying crash.
"Ok, fine," I growled, already getting up from my seat, "I'll go. But if you drag me to another forest or desert, I'm escaping."
For a moment, I thought I had surprised him, but that smirk never wavered. If anything, it widened, and his eyes glinted with that dangerous gleam I had come to know all too well. He stood up slowly, the wreckage of the table at his feet, his calm exterior masking the rage I knew was simmering underneath.
Yuujiro's voice was cool, but I could feel the tension rippling through the room. "Fine, Baki. Tomorrow, we leave."
His foot moved faster than I could blink, delivering a brutal kick aimed right at me. Even though I was ready for it, I barely managed to block in time, the force of his strike sending me crashing into the wall with enough power to make the whole room shake. My body thudded against the surface, and for a moment, I was stunned by the impact, gasping to catch my breath.
He stood there for a moment, towering over the mess he'd made, his expression a mask of calm, though I could see the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. "Remember to pack your bag," he said, his voice cool and collected, as if nothing had happened.
I watched him walk away, my chest still heaving from the kick. I wanted to hit him again, to throw everything I had at him, but I knew better. This wasn't about winning—it never was. He was always pushing, always testing me, and I knew that tomorrow wouldn't be any different.