A typical day

I tried to calm myself, but the whirlwind of thoughts kept me on edge. How did this happen? A wish to see other worlds, to experience something beyond the mundane life I had before—and now here I was, stuck in the body of Baki Hanma, a child who would grow up to be one of the strongest fighters in the world. And not just that—he had that man as a father.

Yuujiro Hanma.

I shivered at the thought. Yuujiro was a monster—psychotic, power-hungry, and terrifying in every sense of the word. I had no idea when or how I would meet him, but I dreaded the day. Maybe I'll get lucky, I thought, a wave of bitter humor washing over me. Maybe I won't meet him for a long time.

But that thought was quickly crushed by reality. Yuujiro was Baki's father. My father. And if there was one thing I knew about him, it was that he always showed up eventually—especially if he sensed power. And my mother, Emi Akezawa, wasn't much better. Her obsession with Yuujiro and raising Baki to be strong was well known in this world.

I sighed—or at least, as much as a baby could sigh—and tried to focus on my immediate surroundings. One problem at a time.

Soon after I was born, they took me for a series of tests at the hospital. Being a newborn was as strange as you'd expect. Everything around me was blurry, the sounds muffled, and my senses struggled to adjust to this new reality. Worse, I couldn't understand a word of what the doctors were saying—it was all in Japanese. I had never learned Japanese in my old life, and now it was like trying to listen to a foreign language through a thick wall of cotton.

Was this some kind of cosmic joke? Why was I reborn like this? As a man, no less. I'd never been a man before, and the whole idea was confusing and unsettling. My body felt wrong—alien. I wondered if I'd ever get used to it, if I'd ever feel right in this skin.

After the tests, they took me to a mansion. It was massive, opulent, with polished floors, intricate decor, and sprawling rooms that seemed to go on forever. So Baki had a good childhood, at least, I thought, trying to grasp at some silver lining. A big house, wealthy upbringing—at least the kid wasn't raised in poverty. But deep down, I knew this world was different. Having a mansion didn't mean much when your life was centered around brutal training, bloodshed, and a psychopathic father looming in the background.

As they settled me into my new room, I felt a gnawing sense of unease. How long do I have until this peaceful childhood is ripped away?

Emi Akezawa POV:

I cradled my son in my arms, and for the first time in what felt like years, I felt a deep sense of pride and satisfaction. He was perfect. My son would be the strongest man in the world. I could feel it the moment he was born—there was a strength in him, a latent power that would one day rival his father's.

And Yuujiro... my heart skipped at the thought of him. It had been too long since I last saw him. But I knew he would come soon. Now that our son was born, he would have to. It was my mission—no, my purpose—to raise Baki to surpass even his father. And Yuujiro, despite his cruel ways, would eventually recognize our son's strength.

I called for Hitoshi, my most trusted assistant. He had connections with some of the best trainers in the world, and Baki would need the best—nothing less. "Hitoshi, when can he begin training?" I asked, my voice sharp, my determination clear. "Make sure to get the best in the field to help. I don't want any amateurs handling him."

Hitoshi nodded dutifully, his eyes flicking down to the baby in my arms. "Of course, Madam Akezawa. I'll arrange for the finest trainers to begin preparations. But it may be some time before he's ready for formal training."

I glanced down at Baki. He seemed so small now, so fragile. But I knew better. Beneath that innocent exterior, he was destined for greatness. His training would start soon. And when it did, I would ensure that my son became the strongest warrior this world had ever seen. Yuujiro would have no choice but to acknowledge his strength—and mine.

…..

Time passed quicker than I expected. It was strange how fast I adapted to my new life. I was now 6 months old, but I already felt years ahead mentally. My body, however, was a different story—a baby's body, yet one that was rapidly becoming something far beyond normal. I had yet to see Yuujiro Hanma, my supposed father. Part of me was relieved, but a small, nagging part of me knew that his absence was temporary. Sooner or later, he would come, and the thought filled me with a mix of dread and curiosity.

In the meantime, my training had begun—light at first, but clearly focused on mobility and strength. My "mother" seemed obsessed with the idea that I had to be strong, even now. Most babies were learning how to crawl or walk, but I was already well beyond that. I could move with an unnatural fluidity, my muscles responding quicker than they should. My grip was strong—stronger than any normal adult male, in some ways.

Emi didn't seem surprised. If anything, she expected it. Her obsessive gaze followed me during every exercise, always evaluating, always pushing me to do more. And I obliged, partly because I had no choice, and partly because this body was naturally suited for it. Being Baki had its advantages.

At six months old, I could already run around the mansion, my legs supporting me with ease. The maids, who once cooed and marveled at my "cute" baby behavior, were now keeping their distance, their eyes wide in disbelief. They were right to be wary. Babies weren't supposed to move like I did, and every day I grew a little stronger.

And, thank God, I no longer needed diapers. That was a small victory in itself, one that gave me a flicker of satisfaction in an otherwise overwhelming situation. I could move freely, and more importantly, I could focus on other things.

Like language. I had begun to understand Japanese now. Not perfectly—there were still moments where the language eluded me, the structure and grammar swirling in my mind like a puzzle I couldn't quite solve. But I was learning fast, faster than I should have been. It was as though Baki's innate abilities extended to more than just physical strength. I was absorbing information like a sponge, my mind and body both developing at an alarming rate.

….

It was a normal day, or so I thought. I was being fed by Emi, the routine soothing and predictable. I ate quietly, doing my best to balance my thoughts between language lessons and the physical training I'd been undergoing. I was still adjusting to this life, still grappling with the fact that I was Baki Hanma. The mansion felt cold, and there was always an underlying tension between me and Emi—her obsessive expectations weighed heavily on me, and I could sense her disappointment when I didn't push myself hard enough, even though I was a six-month-old child.

After I was full, I made my way toward my Japanese tutor. It had become part of my daily routine, and I was ready to absorb more language skills. Everything seemed peaceful.

Until it wasn't.

I felt it before I saw him. A presence so overwhelming it sent a shiver down my spine. The air in the room seemed to change, the temperature dropping, my breath catching in my throat. I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. But I did, anyway.

Yuujiro Hanma.

He stood in front of me, his towering figure casting a dark shadow that seemed to swallow the room whole. His eyes were gleaming with something wild, a feral glint that reminded me of a predator sizing up its prey. His sheer physical presence was terrifying—he was a living embodiment of raw, unbridled power. It felt like standing in front of a demon.

My first reaction was to run, instinct kicking in before I could even think. So I did. I ran. My small legs carried me as fast as they could, but I didn't get far. Within seconds, I felt his hand grip the back of my neck like a vice. The pressure was excruciating, and I kicked out in panic, desperate to break free. My foot connected with his arm—or at least I thought it did—but it was like kicking solid stone. The impact shot pain up my leg, and I realized just how outmatched I was.

My body was strong, sure, but Yuujiro was something else entirely. I wasn't facing just any opponent—I was facing a monster.

"You are my son," Yuujiro growled, his voice rumbling like thunder. "Grow strong and challenge me."

His words were chilling, almost taunting. He still held me by the neck, his grip tight enough to make it hard to breathe. My mind raced, panic bubbling up inside me. What do you mean, grow strong? I couldn't respond—my throat felt like it was being crushed, and I was too terrified to speak. I tried kicking him again, but it was useless. I couldn't do anything. I was powerless.

Yuujiro seemed to grow impatient. His eyes flashed with annoyance, and without warning, he tossed me aside like I weighed nothing. My body flew through the air, the world spinning around me. I hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. Pain shot through my side, and for a moment, everything blurred. I gasped, trying to gather myself, but the shock of it left me dazed.

I heard Yuujiro's footsteps as he walked toward Emi, his presence as menacing as ever. What's he going to do? Panic clawed at me again, but my body refused to move. The pain was overwhelming, and I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness.

Before everything went dark, I caught a glimpse of Emi's face. She didn't look scared. If anything, there was a strange satisfaction in her eyes.

And then... nothing.