I am Kazuya Ishida, the only son of a wealthy business tycoon and an evanescent mother, more concerned with her philanthropic works than with her offspring. Despite the opulence and material comfort that surrounded me, I grew up in a cold and lonely environment. My father, constantly traveling around the globe, only gave me fleeting and sporadic attention.
From a young age, I developed a distant and introverted personality. At school, I struggled to fit in and build friendships. My peers saw me as a haughty and unapproachable being, aloof on his pedestal. "Why am I so unpopular? What is this flaw in me that makes me so different?" These were the nagging questions that tormented my youthful mind. But through the sheer loneliness, these existential questions eventually dissipated, like morning mist swept away by the first rays of the sun.
It was at the pivotal age of 15 that I made the fortuitous discovery of the fascinating world of manga and anime. On a day when I skipped school, I stumbled upon an episode of Dragon Ball on television. Instantly, I was enchanted, captivated by the adventurous and thrilling escapades of Goku and his gang. The epic and heroic battles, the sharp and irreverent humor, the vibrant and colorful graphics... Everything in this anime sparked my wonder and enthusiasm.
Thirsty to discover more, I eagerly devoured the episodes and volumes of Dragon Ball. Then I broadened my horizons by exploring other iconic and emblematic series such as Bleach, One Piece, and especially Naruto. The latter resonated deeply with the teenager I was at the time. I intimately identified with the enigmatic and charismatic character of Itachi Uchiha, a ninja as brilliant as he was unfathomable.
"Itachi is my alter ego, my reflection in the mirror... Cold, distant, misunderstood. He too sees the harsh reality of his world. But unlike him, I refuse to be a puppet. I will forever be the puppeteer, never the puppet," I thought as I identified with this fascinating and profoundly complex protagonist.
Unknowingly, manga and anime became a consuming passion, an obsession for me. I devoted all my time to them, neglecting my studies more and more. Paradoxically, despite this evident lack of interest, my academic results did not suffer much. Nothing mattered anymore than immersing myself body and soul in these fantastic worlds that allowed me to escape from my dull and monochrome existence.
Over the years, I discovered more mature and sophisticated series such as Berserk, Classroom of the Elite, and Code Geass. I was literally mesmerized by the cunning and manipulative heroes portrayed in these anime. Their icy intelligence, Olympian composure, mastery, and ability to always stay one step ahead of their opponents fascinated me to the highest degree.
With the firm intention of joining the army in the future, I threw myself into the study of various martial arts and combat techniques. In just a few years, I had become a formidable and accomplished fighter, an expert in krav maga, jiu-jitsu, and Muay Thai. But despite my rapid and spectacular progress, I remained unsatisfied, haunted by a lingering sense of incompleteness. At 19, as I successfully completed my high school studies, I decided to enlist in the army, driven by an unquenchable thirst for self-improvement and greatness.
Sitting on the bus heading to the training center, I pondered my existential malaise. "Since always, I have felt out of sync with this world, with this superficial and vain society. That's why I chose the path of arms, this ruthless universe where only strength prevails. There, at least, I will be in my element," I thought with a dark determination.
And my intuition proved right. The army turned out to be my natural environment. My talents - a sharp mind, iron discipline, and combat prowess - quickly propelled me up the ranks. I became a lieutenant in record time.
But this rapid ascent came at a price. The unspeakable atrocities I witnessed during my missions in Africa, the savagery of the conflicts, the devastating absurdity of war... These traumatizing experiences only exacerbated my already deeply rooted coldness and cynicism.
Unfortunately, even the elite of soldiers remains vulnerable. During a routine patrol, our convoy fell into an ambush set by rebels. Despite my sharp reflexes and my experience in battle, I could not dodge the hail of projectiles that tore through my flesh.
The pain was as intense as it was fleeting. In a fraction of a second, darkness engulfed me. "So, this is death? In the end, it's not so terrible..." I had time to whisper before sinking into the void.
For what seemed like an eternity, my soul wandered in the limbo, a soft void without spatiotemporal references. How long had I been deceased? Minutes, hours, days? Impossible to determine. I just knew that I was strangely serene, freed from the burden of my existence.