Death...

It was a typical life. Nothing special, nothing extraordinary. Just the kind of life you settle into, a little predictable but comfortable. Growing up, I did everything I was supposed to: went to school, got decent grades, found a good job. I worked as a chef. It was a secure job with decent hours, and for the most part, I was content. The city I lived in wasn't particularly special either—far from my parents, far from the friends I'd made over the years.

My father was always traveling for work, some kind of business that took him to places I'd never heard of. My mother, meanwhile, stayed back, a teacher who devoted herself to her students as much as her family. My siblings were scattered, each in their own distant corners of the world. I moved here originally for the military, a phase that ended, leaving me with enough discipline and memories to last a lifetime. Now, I found myself missing the sense of camaraderie, the closeness of having my friends nearby. Loneliness wasn't a sharp pain, just a dull ache that accompanied me.

But life was... okay.

I was just biking home from work that night. The street was empty, unusually quiet, and shrouded in the kind of darkness that wraps around you. It felt almost peaceful—until it wasn't. The headlights blazed into my vision, bright and blinding, and the truck came at me faster than I could even register. It wasn't the kind of movie moment where time slows down, where you make peace with your fate. No, it was instant, harsh, and left me with nothing but a fleeting thought.

How did that truck get here so fast?

The impact was cold, and then nothing. Just darkness, like the street. Only this time, it stretched on forever.

When I opened my eyes again, I didn't feel anything. No pain, no cold, just... confusion. I looked around, trying to make sense of where I was, but it wasn't a hospital, and it certainly wasn't home. There was a presence—a voice, or maybe a sensation—speaking directly to me, and though I couldn't see anyone, I felt its presence deeply.

"You weren't supposed to go like that," the voice echoed, neither kind nor unkind. It was simply there. "And so, I offer you a second chance. A life beyond this one."

It was surreal, like one of those stories I read when I needed an escape from the monotony. But before I could question it, before I could ask if this was some fever dream, the voice continued. "You will be reborn. In a world full of strength, trials, and power. And... I grant you a wish, a gift, to help you on your journey."

I thought for a moment, or maybe it was an eternity. All I knew was that my old life was gone, my friends and family would move on, and I—well, I was being given something new. I needed something exciting, something that wouldn't trap me in mundanity again.

"A wish?" I whispered. "I want the ability to travel to different worlds. To see more than just this."

The voice seemed to consider it, then responded with something that felt like a smile. "Granted."

....

it was dark—too dark. The last thing I remembered was the truck, the blinding headlights, and the sudden, overwhelming pain. Was I in a coma? The thought ran through my mind in a foggy haze. I tried to move, to lift my arms, but something was wrong. They didn't respond the way I expected them to. My limbs felt heavy, awkward, like they weren't my own.

Panic flickered in the back of my mind. Why can't I see anything? Am I blind?

I tried to open my eyes, but everything remained black. The sensation of my body felt foreign, like my brain was struggling to connect to it. And the sounds—I couldn't hear anything clearly. Everything felt muted, distant, as if I were underwater.

Am I dying? The thought gripped me tightly, but the more I tried to rationalize what was happening, the more everything slipped away. I could feel myself drifting, consciousness fading once more. I had no idea what was going on, and the effort to hold on was too much.

I fell asleep.

When I woke again, I didn't know how much time had passed. Days? Hours? Years? Something had changed, though. The darkness wasn't quite as thick, and I could feel a kind of motion around me—gentle rocking, warmth, a muffled rhythm that was... comforting. My limbs twitched again, and this time, they responded, but it still wasn't right. My arms felt short, my legs weak. It was like trying to control someone else's body.

The realization hit me like a wave: I've been reborn.

The thought seemed ridiculous at first, but the signs were all there. The strange sense of floating. The small, uncoordinated movements. The warmth surrounding me like a cocoon. I'm a baby.

Six months. Six months of drifting in and out of consciousness, slowly piecing together the reality of my new existence. Every time I woke, I could feel more of the world around me—tiny, unfamiliar sensations. The smell of something soft and warm, the quiet hum of voices above me, speaking words I couldn't yet understand. The feel of my body slowly developing, muscles starting to respond with more control, and each day the strength building.

Then, one day, I opened my eyes for the first time.

The blurriness faded, and for the first time since that truck had hit me, I saw the world. But it wasn't the world I knew. This was something entirely different. I was staring up at a ceiling that was unfamiliar, but the room wasn't what caught my attention. What caught my attention were the people.

A woman leaned over me, her face soft and full of affection, though there was something strong in her eyes. She was beautiful, and though I didn't recognize her, I knew who she was. Emi Akezawa. My mother. Or rather... Baki Hanma's mother.

I was Baki.

The realization hit me like a freight train. Somehow, impossibly, I had been reborn as the legendary martial artist Baki Hanma. The stories of his world, the fights, the unimaginable power—this was where I was now. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. I had been a chef. A regular woman with a normal life, and now I was in a world where strength was everything. Where death and violence were everyday occurrences.

This can't be real, I thought, staring at my tiny fists, trying to process everything. But deep down, I knew it was real. I could feel the power already simmering inside me, even though I was just a baby. I was destined to grow into Baki Hanma's body, his strength, his world.