Disclaimer: I don't own Kenichi the Mightiest Disciple or any of the characters

Chapter 2 – God Hand Hongō Akira

His body was lean and strong – a far cry from how it was supposed to be at his age. His arms already bore the first definition of muscle while his eyes constantly took in the world around him with a frightening precision he could barely comprehend.

He sometimes thought of his old body, frail and weak, often ridden with disease only offset by his keen mind – and then one of the numerous elders of his new clan shouted another kata he had to perform flawlessly and something inside of him eased with his body's prompt compliance.

It had such a frightening amount of potential that at times made this new life bearable. At his young age, he was already far faster and stronger than a healthy adult – and when he remembered what he knew of Kanō Shō it became clear that this was just the beginning.

Other times when he was awoken before sunrise, a command already on one of the elder's lips before he was even properly awake, and the constant ache as his body repeatedly exhausted itself beyond its capabilities every day, he cursed this new life.

Martial Arts were everything. They lived and died immersed in that world, and Kanō Shō – he – would be no different.

The only choices were compliance or death.

His existence was merely a tool to secure another generation of the Kuremisago – and if his mind wasn't already so much older than his young body – this life would have already skewered his perception more than it already did.

"Ha."

Shō moved his arms into another punching sequence, sweat already dripping down his face. But he didn't falter. He never did.

As far as Shō could tell, he was now almost eight years old. Almost eight years in this new world. His memories of his life before had faded rapidly over the last few years, so much that he couldn't even quite remember his own past life's face anymore. The only memories he had repeated over and over again were the few snippets he remembered of the manga.

Anything else he had already deemed as useless. What use would be remembering old friends and family? Except to cause him pain and sleepless nights – there was no value in those kinds of memories. Remembering a life, he could not have, freedom he did not possess – it was far better to let go of such things.

Kanō Shō was the pride of the Kuremisago clan. Born with a bloodline and body uniquely suited to practicing and even more important excelling at martial arts. And even among the Kuremisago, Shō was the most talented one born in quite some years.

A body that worked like a well-oiled machine together with a comprehension ability that made genii weep in envy. That was the body that he inherited. Paired with an advanced adult mind that could rapidly comprehend those signals since an early age – was it any wonder why he excelled?

Shō diligently moved his body in accordance with the routine he would be doing the next two hours, every motion by now well practiced and automatic – his thoughts wandering. He didn't know the exact time, but Shō knew that he would be introduced to his sensei - Hongō Akira – in the next few months or maybe years. He only remembered that Shō had started his training with the Karate master very early in childhood.

Truthfully, Shō didn't quite know how to feel about it. He remembered that Kanō Shō was basically sold to Yami – and even though he remembered that Hongō Akira was someone who deeply cared for Shō, he was still apprehensive.

Even though, he didn't like the clan… he still knew what was expected of him. It was familiar to him by now. The politics, the expectations… the crushing burden placed on his small shoulders. It wouldn't get better in Yomi, he knew.

The door sliding open ripped Shō out of his contemplation. Still, his body automatically moved into another sequence. He knew that without command, he was not allowed to stop.

The sequence of movements he was currently endlessly repeating wasn't a style of martial arts so much as basic foundation training. A set of movements with designed to train every part of the body useful for martial arts, derived over centuries by his clan incorporating all basic movements used in different styles all over the world. The culmination of a clan dedicated to one purpose – to hone their martial arts.

The elderly man soundlessly moving into the room was Shō's grand-uncle - Kanō Daishi. He was the head of Shō's linage in the clan. The Kuremisago had different linages – or rather different branches – with correspondingly differing influence in the clan. His own linage was highly placed, since his own mother was a main branch member and his father one of the most talented in the latter generation of the clan, both already deceased.

This grand-uncle of his was currently his guardian. As a member of the elder's council – Kanō Daishi – was more interested in furthering the clan's agenda, than his own family – so Shō talented since birth and without direct protection became his pawn to achieving this agenda. As such Shō respected his grand-uncles strength and political acumen – but felt no love for the man.

"You may stop for now." Kanō Daishi commanded softly and Shō finished his sequence wordlessly. Sweat was staining his whole body, but Shō cared little. Respectfully waiting at attention, Shō peered up at the elder who mustered him intently.

"You must have noticed that lately your training has significantly increased in intensity." The elder stated.

Shō replied firmly. "Yes, grand-uncle." He had noticed that fact. His training had always been very harsh. But now it was a rare day when he didn't fall asleep as soon as he hit the pillow, body aching. And on those rare days he increasingly studied the different styles in theory and memorized the human body.

"In a few weeks, you will be participating in a few matches against other young martial artists around your age from the wider branches of the clan as well as beyond." His grand-uncle stated, and Shō fought to keep his expression calm.

He had expected it. He had expected it so why was he still so surprised?

"Yes, elder. If I may ask, what is the purpose of those matches?" Shō carefully asked. His grand-uncle while not the least bit kind to him, didn't discourage questions either.

Kanō Daishi hummed thoughtfully, "I suppose there is no harm in telling you. Yami – that organization – is wishing to adopt a disciple of our clan. It is needless to say, being chosen would bring glory to our clan and lineage."

Shō nodded obediently, but his thoughts were racing. Adopting a child sounded indeed much better than saying they wished for a young talented child they could buy and mold in their image. But he knew that it was beginning now – his personal hell.

Even though his life until now had been harsh, it was still bearable. But Shō knew that went unsaid. Even at eight years old, Shō was expected to win this competition – expected to leave behind the defeated bodies of his opponents behind him, expected to kill if necessary or wished for by the elders – and he didn't know if he could do that. Kill children who had not even the chance to live their life.

Instead he only replied emotionlessly, "Yes, grand-uncle. I shall win and bring glory to our clan."

Shō figured he would find out whether he could survive in this world or not soon enough.

The days afterwards passed quietly, almost if in a dream and Shō found himself unexpectedly calm. Or perhaps he didn't have the time to become anxious, his training consuming all his time. Every time he became apprehensive about the oncoming events, he practiced another technique trying to reach perfection. Every time thoughts churning in his mind, he moved into another sequence. Every shred of hesitation was mercilessly crushed. Only thoughts of winning the oncoming challenges were allowed. Losing wasn't an option.

Shō stepped out of his room, the sun only just peeking over the horizon. He had already completed a few sets of his warm-up routine and his body was pleasantly warm. His courtyard was small, but well cared for – a few servants cleaning it regularly.

He stared at the tree towering over everything else in the small space and jumped onto the first branch in one leap. His body easily moved through the tree until he stopped after only a few moments. The small nest was carefully hidden in the tall tree and Shō had only found it a few months ago. He allowed himself a small smile. It was easy to understand why Kanō Shō had liked birds so much. Perhaps some things were fated.

But Shō understood that they were also very different. The bird – he knew it with a startling heart wrenching clarity – if necessary, he would crush it. Without doubt or hesitation. He firmed his expression. After this moment, there would be more mercy.

"Goodbye." He whispered quietly before rapidly descending the tree, landing on the ground with nary a sound. His expression calm, without a singly fluctuation. He was now once again Kanō Shō, the pride of the Kuremisago.

Unaware of a set of eyes quietly watching him.

Shō stood beside his grand-uncle, eyes calmly resting on the other twenty-three children in the room. His competition. His eyes flickered covertly over their forms, cataloguing what was visible of their muscles and expression – and instantly dismissed over three quarter as a threat. The rest was more composed, muscles well trained and mostly a few years older than him. He was perhaps the youngest, but from how most eyes instantly focused on him – the most well-known threat.

Well, he had expected that.

The door slid open and a man Shō had previously only seen on pages of a book entered the room. Hongō Akira looked different from what he expected – younger for one – but his imposing momentum – his ki - was already washing over the room. Shō's eyes widened slightly, before calming again. He had been accustomed to ki since his early childhood – it was only the vastness of it that surprised him. Most other children were similarly unaffected, some of the weaker ones leaned away subtly before catching themselves.

God Hand Hongō Akira, one of the Shadow Nine Fists.

The man's swept once over the room, before sitting on the prepared seat. Not one word was spoken – but a sort of tension was in the room. As if every single person was aware that there was a superior predator was in the room – able and perfectly willing to devour if provoked. The elders quickly followed suit, none daring to take offense.

"Begin." One word. Powerful, dangerous, subtly commanding – something quietly took root in Shō's heart.

Later, he would identify it as admiration.

As the first competitors were named, Shō showed little surprise as he moved forward. His opponent was perhaps three years older, hair dark and expression determined. Shō bowed politely, hands clasped and his opponent mirrored the gesture.

Shō righted himself calmly, and was unsurprised to find the other boy's muscles tensing subtly. Teaching children to attack first was not a bad choice. They normally didn't have the mentality to thoroughly take advantage of such an opportunity. Naturally Shō was an exception.

As the other boy sprung forward, Shō instantly generated force in his legs and shot forward with a speed far superior to the other boy. One hand unbalancing the boy before driving his elbow into the boy's stomach mercilessly with a side stance. The other child let out a keening sound before crumpling to the ground, traces of vomit escaping the mouth.

Shō tried to ignore the fearful glances thrown at him, the smiles on the elder's faces, the triumphant nod of his grand-uncle – bowing once more to the opponent Shō hid the struggle in his eyes.

He quietly watched as the battles commenced. Twelve battles for twenty-four participants. He spent the time predicting who would win, triumphant when he guessed the first eight right, and slightly embarrassed when he misjudged one of the participants two years older than him.

For Shō who had spent his whole life training until he dropped from exhaustion, this tournament was sadly one of the most interesting things in this lifetime of his.

His second match was against a boy four years his senior who had won his last match with his powerful strength. Shō stepped forward, bowing as required. Taking his stance, he was surprised when his opponent smirked at him.

"Well then, shorty. Up for a beating?''

Shō who was used to the solemn atmosphere of his clan blinked at the boy whose eyes despite his crass words, still intently studied him for any weaknesses. Ah, Shō quickly understood. While not widely practiced, it was still common in some schools to teach their disciples psychological methods.

Shō was distinctly amused though had no intention of allowing any words spoken during a match to affect him. Although he shouldn't expect too much psychological discernment from a boy only eleven or twelve years old, no matter how skilled in martial arts. It was only a sign that he thought he could not beat Shō.

The boy had more physical strength than him, but it mattered little. Shō rushed forward this time, avoiding a sweeping kick by jumping upwards effortlessly. Grabbing the other's leg as a leverage point, Shō landed heavy kick in the opponent's face. His movement fast, precise and graceful.

Another body crumbled to the ground.

He stepped back, allowing calm to wash over him once more. He would keep on winning. It took another hour for the final three to be decided. Shō eyed the two that still stood standing, one of them the boy he had misjudged in the first round. The other was member of Shō's own clan who was eyeing him with carefully disguised hostility. He was by now favouring his left side, having taken some hits to the right side.

"Shō, Eiji. You will compete, Dai. Stand back, you will no longer compete." One of the elder's called out.

Dai, the other child from the clan, looked like he wanted to protest, but one quick look from another elder silenced him.

"This last match will be a death match. With this, the winner will enter Yomi and follow the Satsujinken."

Shō's eyes met the shocked eyes of the other boy, Eiji, from across the room – and both stepped forward. His hands moved automatically into the right position to declare it a death match, before taking his stance.

Don't think. Don't think. About anything. He would not lose. He could not afford to lose. He would survive.

"Kanō Shō." Shō stated firmly, and was relieved to find the same expression mirroring the other boy's face. I will remember you.

"Suzume Eiji."

Shō knew he would remember this boy for the rest of his life. Eyes bright, face determined, brown hair cut short - Suzume Eiji.

Shō lunged.

Hongō Akira watched the commencing match with mixed feelings. He was of the opinion that any martial artist should choose Satsujinken or Katsujinken freely – but he understood the practices of those ancient clans.

Even as one of the Shadow Nine Fists, it wasn't his place to interfere. Yami had requested a disciple from the Kuremisago or one of its allied clans – and the clan was delivering them their most prized talent. How it was done was not up to him.

But he knew that his intended disciple was the fair-haired child of the Kuremisago clan, Kanō Shō, and Akira knew it would come to pass. The other child had no chance against the more skilled younger boy. Even Akira was impressed with the precise moves and tight control over his body this child exhibited. Together with a calmness of mind that would probably make the child a Sei type martial artist later on, Kanō Shō was dominating.

Akira minded not. He had seen enough of the child to know he wanted him as his disciple. It wasn't only his talent, it was the flashes of humanity carefully hidden behind the calm eyes that spoke to him, the quick smile he witnesses directed at the small bird. Akira wasn't the type to deny emotions. Humans were only complete with them. The child was like a small bird with clipped wings, waiting for the moment his wings were strong enough to hold him as he flew thought he sky.

This was the type of impression he had received since he arrived here the previous evening.

Another sharp hit, this time to the throat ended the other child's mind and Akira inwardly frowned, not happy about the unnecessary loss of life. He studied his disciple, Kanō Shō looked calm but Akira could see his hands trembling slightly before control reasserted itself. It would not last, he knew. Later on, this child would mourn. Remember the face of the first person he had killed – and for a moment Akira was reminded of his own first death mate with Hajime. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Kanō Shō, do you wish to become mine, Hongō Akira's, disciple?"

"Kanō Shō, do you wish to become mine, Hongō Akira's, disciple?"

The question broke him out of his shock. Did he wish to become this man's disciple? The answer was unexpected and quick. Yes, he did. Perhaps it was because of his memories of his former life, maybe it was because of the moment when he first saw this man – strong and proud – and maybe it was because for the first time in this new life of his, someone asked him.

Shō bowed respectfully – deeply and wholeheartedly. "I would be honoured, master."

"Come."

Shō instantly strode after his master, trying to ignore the cooling body behind him. He noticed that no one seemed to follow them and was instantly relieved. He didn't think he could stand any of the elder's pride at this moment. There was nothing to be proud of. A child was dead. Dead, and never getting up again.

His master's steps were firm and even, always the same length – but Shō noticed that the man was walking slowly enough that Shō did not need to run to keep up. Truly it said a lot about the man Hongō Akira was.

They soon arrived at a courtyard that was noticeably apart from the clan – and Shō recognized it as one of the guest buildings. Entering, he followed his master to the reception room – two cushions placed around an antique low table.

"Sit down."

Shō obediently seated himself in seiza. "Yes, master."

"Just calling me sensei is fine." The God fist stated before seating himself more casually on the other side of the table.

Shō unconsciously relaxed, only noticing how tense he had been before. His eyes brightened.

"Yes, sensei."

The God fist smirked and Shō thought it suited him more than the serious side he had displayed when they were still under scrutiny.

"I don't have many requirements. Respect me, respect the martial arts I teach you – and that is all."

"Yes, sensei."

Shō thought that he would repeat those words often in the future. It was a welcome thought.

"We will depart tomorrow. Pack everything you need. I will come pick you up."

"Yes, sensei."

Despite the thoughts churning in his mind, Eijis eyes still dull and slightly accusing - Shō was looking forward to tomorrow.

A/N Well didn't think I would pick this up again, but surprise I'm still alive?

Hope you liked it! Comments are always appreciated!

C'ya soonish,

AriesOrion