The legends spoke of a warrior—one whose strength defied the boundaries of man and beast alike. His sword cleaved mountains, his fists broke the skies, and his heart... his heart burned with a fire so fierce, it shaped the very history of the world. His name had been lost to time, but his power, his legacy, was whispered in ancient texts, passed down through generations. Some sought his strength, hoping to claim it for themselves. Others feared it, wishing it would remain buried, forgotten, never to rise again.
In the present day, those legends were nothing more than stories. Old myths told by grandparents to wide-eyed children before bed. The world had moved on. High-rise buildings replaced the mountains, and cars buzzed where warriors once roamed. But some things cannot stay forgotten forever.
The city of Onimura hummed with the familiar sounds of a typical weekday morning. The air was thick with the honking of car horns, the clamor of students hurrying to school, and the rumble of trains rushing through their circuits. For most people, it was just another day.
For Haru Inuzaku, it was just another chance to be... ordinary.
He yawned, adjusting his tie in the reflection of his bedroom mirror. His black hair was a bit messier than usual, sticking up in unruly tufts no matter how hard he tried to smooth it down. With a resigned sigh, he gave up and slung his bag over his shoulder, making a quick exit from his room.
"Late again, Haru?"
His mother called from the kitchen, her voice warm and teasing.
"Not if I run,"
Haru replied, hurriedly slipping on his shoes.
As he reached for the doorknob, his mother's voice stopped him again.
"Don't forget your lunch. And stay out of trouble today, alright? No more bruises."
Haru winced, his hand instinctively brushing against the faint purple mark on his cheek from last week's soccer practice. It wasn't that he went looking for trouble; it just seemed to find him. Always in the wrong place at the wrong time, always just a bit too unlucky. Not that it mattered. In a world full of extraordinary people, Haru was just... Haru.
"Yeah, I'll be fine. See you later!"
He grabbed his lunch and bolted out the door before his mom could ask any more questions.
The air outside was crisp and cool, a perfect contrast to the warmth of the late spring sun. On any other day, he might've taken a moment to appreciate it, but not today. Today, he was already late for the second time this week.
As he jogged toward the station, he caught sight of familiar faces in the crowd. Aiko, his ever-cheerful childhood friend, waved at him from the other side of the street, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. She was always a step ahead of him, in more ways than one.
"Haru! You're going to be late!"
She called out, cupping her hands around her mouth.
"I know, I know!"
Haru shouted back, waving apologetically.
"Save me a seat!"
Aiko laughed and gave him a thumbs-up before disappearing into the sea of students. For a brief moment, Haru let himself smile. At least there was always someone looking out for him, even if he didn't feel like he deserved it.
The station platform was packed as usual, with everyone rushing to make their morning commute. Haru slipped into the crowd, finding his place among the masses. Just another face in the sea, just another day in the life of Haru Inuzaku.
Or so he thought.
As the train roared to life and began to move, a strange sensation washed over him. It was subtle at first—a prickling at the back of his neck, as if someone were watching him. He glanced around, but everything seemed normal. The usual students, the usual businessmen, the usual noise. But the feeling didn't go away. In fact, it intensified.
His heart quickened, his breath coming out just a little faster. His hand gripped the pole next to him tightly, knuckles turning white. The train's rattling seemed louder, the lights above flickering for just a moment longer than they should have. Was it his imagination? Or was something—
Then, in a flash, the world stopped.
No, it wasn't the world that stopped. It was time itself.
Haru blinked, his eyes widening in shock. Everyone around him was frozen in place, mid-step, mid-sentence, mid-breath. The train had halted mid-motion, hanging in the air as if suspended by some invisible force. Haru's mind raced, trying to process what he was seeing. This couldn't be real. This wasn't happening.
Before he could even begin to understand, a voice—deep and commanding—echoed in his mind.
"Descendant of the Warrior King... the time has come."
Haru's blood ran cold. He turned, slowly, toward the source of the voice. Standing at the far end of the train car was a figure cloaked in shadows, their face hidden beneath a hood. But even in the darkness, Haru could feel the weight of their gaze. It bore down on him like a mountain, suffocating, inescapable.
"You cannot run from your destiny, Inuzaku Haru,"
The figure said, their voice like the rumble of distant thunder.
"Your ancestor's blood flows through you. And soon, you will awaken to the power you were born to inherit."
The words sent a shiver down Haru's spine. He tried to speak, to move, to do something, but his body refused to obey. He could only stare, paralyzed by the weight of the revelation.
The figure took a step forward, and the world began to spin. Haru's vision blurred, the edges of his consciousness fraying like a thread pulled too tight. The last thing he heard before the darkness claimed him was the figure's voice, echoing in the void.
"Awaken, Warrior of Legends. Your time has come."
When Haru's eyes fluttered open, he was no longer on the train. He was lying in the grass, the morning sun shining down on him. For a moment, he wondered if it had all been a dream. But as he sat up, his heart still racing, the lingering sense of dread told him otherwise.
Something was coming. Something that would change everything.
And Haru Inuzaku, the boy who had always been ordinary, was at the center of it all.