Bear

The snow had begun to fall, soft flakes swirling down from the sky, covering the ground in a blanket of white. Winter had finally arrived. The cold was relentless, but for the first time in months, I didn't feel the same overwhelming sense of dread. Something had changed.

I had finally gotten lucky. A deer, one of the first I'd seen in weeks, had gotten caught in one of my upgraded traps. The sight of it had filled me with a mixture of relief and excitement. Real food. Not just fish or small game, but enough meat to last me for days, maybe even weeks if I managed it right. After months of hunger gnawing at my insides, this felt like a victory.

And it wasn't just the deer. The fish were finally coming in consistently from the nets I had set out in the river. I had learned the right spots, adjusted my technique, and now there was a steady supply. It wasn't always a large catch, but it was enough. I was eating again. I was putting on weight again. My body, which had been worn thin from hunger and exhaustion, was finally beginning to recover.

And as my strength returned, I noticed something else. I was growing. Fast. I stood at about 130 cm now, unusually tall for my age. It was a far cry from what Baki Hanma had originally been at this point in his life. The thought crossed my mind—maybe I wouldn't stop growing. Maybe, instead of Baki's typical height, I'd end up towering over everyone, a 2-meter giant instead of the 160 or 170 cm he had been. It was hard to tell if this was just a side effect of my new body's potential or something else entirely, but I welcomed the growth. Size meant strength, and I needed all the strength I could get.

My life has gotten better. My shelter was stronger, able to withstand the harsh winter winds, and my catches were steady. The harsh, unforgiving nature I had battled against for so long now felt a little more manageable. I had the tools to survive, and with the Demon Back, I felt more powerful than ever.

But despite these small victories, I was still struggling. It wasn't the cold or the hunger this time. It was the isolation.

I sat outside my shelter one night, staring up at the Northern Lights as they danced across the sky in brilliant shades of green and purple. The beauty of the wilderness surrounded me, breathtaking and wild. The snow-covered trees, the stars shining brightly above—it was the kind of scene that would have been awe-inspiring in any other life. But out here, in the middle of nowhere, with no one to talk to, it only made me feel more alone.

The loneliness was crushing. The only human interaction I had was with Yuujiro during our training sessions, and those weren't exactly heartwarming conversations. He would teach me, sure, but it was always about survival, about strength. There was no connection there, no warmth. It was all about pushing me further, making me stronger.

I found myself talking to myself more and more, just to fill the silence. Sometimes I'd even imagine conversations with people I had known in my past life, just to feel some semblance of connection. But it wasn't the same, and I knew it. My social life was non-existent, and the longer I stayed out here, the more I wondered how much longer I could keep going like this.

There was no end in sight, no sense of when I would be able to return to civilization, to normal life—whatever that even meant anymore. I wondered if I'd ever be able to go to school again, or if my life was just going to be an endless cycle of training and survival.

School. That word lingered in my mind, pulling me back to memories I hadn't thought about in a long time. In my previous life, school had been hell. I wasn't bullied by students like most people expect. It was the teachers. I remembered the way some of them treated me, as if I didn't matter, as if I was less than everyone else. One of them had even hit me once. Another had humiliated me in front of the class, forcing me to stand up when I was desperate to use the bathroom, making me pee myself in front of everyone. I can still hear the laughter—the way the teacher joined in, mocking me in front of my classmates.

I hated school then. I hated them. But now? Now I wondered if maybe, just maybe, things would be different if I ever went back. Maybe this time, I'd have the strength to stand up for myself. Maybe I wouldn't be the scared, quiet kid in the back of the class anymore. Maybe this time, I'd be someone they couldn't push around.

But would I even get the chance? How much longer would I be out here, alone, fighting to survive with nothing but my thoughts and Yuujiro's brutal training to keep me company? How much longer until I could rejoin the world? If I ever did.

The Northern Lights continued their slow, graceful dance above me, and for a moment, I let myself appreciate the beauty of it all. Nature was beautiful, even in its harshness. But it wasn't enough to fill the emptiness inside me. I needed more. I needed people. I needed connections. But for now, I had none of that.

With a sigh, I got up from the cold ground and returned to my shelter, the warmth of the fire greeting me as I stepped inside. Tomorrow, there will be more training. More hunting. More survival. I would keep going, because I had no other choice.

But loneliness? That was the hardest thing to survive.

Yuuiro Pov:

Baki is a monster. I've trained countless fighters, broken them down, pushed them beyond their limits. But none of them—none of them—has ever shown the potential that Baki does. Even with everything I've put him through, he refuses to break. It's almost… impressive. He's young, so young, but already his strength is catching up to mine. The Hanma bloodline is monstrous—each generation stronger than the last. But Baki? He's something else.

I've tried to break him down. I've pushed him to the edge, deprived him of sleep, of food, of companionship. I've subjected him to the harshest environment, trained him with brutality that would have shattered anyone else. And yet, he won't yield. He won't snap, won't quit. The more I push, the more he adapts. At first, I thought it was just the Hanma blood at work—that raw, undeniable power passed down from one generation to the next. But this is more than that.

It's strange, even for me, but I can't decide if I'm proud or thrilled. Proud that my son is surpassing my expectations, that he's enduring everything I throw at him. Or thrilled by the challenge that lies ahead—the first time in my life that someone is catching up to me.

No one has ever done that before.

I thought I'd seen it all. After all, I'm the strongest creature on Earth. I've fought battles that would kill lesser men, stood against entire nations, crushed armies with my bare hands. Even my father, Yuuichirou Hanma, was the strongest in his time, defeating the United States before I ever did. It's what the Hanma blood does. It produces the strongest, the most dominant beings in the world. But Baki? Baki might surpass us all.

The Demon Back. That was something I didn't expect. He unlocked it sooner than I thought he would—far sooner. I always knew he had potential, but this? This is something else entirely. That day it manifested during our sparring session, I saw a glimpse of what he could become. His back rippled with power, the kind of strength that only comes when you've been pushed to the brink of death. I've seen it before, in myself, and in others with Hanma blood. But seeing it in Baki? There was something about it… something that made me reconsider my plans.

Originally, I was going to end this outdoor training before the winter came. He had endured enough, and I figured it was time to take him back to civilization, let him recover, and then push him even harder. But after seeing the Demon Back, after seeing just how far he's come, I'm starting to think he's ready for more. Much more.

Maybe I'll keep him out here longer—a full year, perhaps. If he's already tapping into the Demon Back at this age, there's no telling how far he could go with more pressure. It's not just about surviving anymore. It's about thriving, about seeing how far I can push him before he snaps. Or if he'll even snap at all.

But I know one thing for sure. If I keep pushing him like this, he'll need more than just training. He'll need opponents. Real challenges to test his strength, to push him beyond the limits of human capability. And out here, there's only one opponent that comes to mind.

The bear.

There's a 6-meter-tall monster bear that roams the mountains nearby. A creature that's more beast than anything else, a killing machine capable of ripping through flesh and bone like paper. That bear is a force of nature, and if Baki can face it, if he can survive, it'll be a real test of his abilities. The Demon Back may give him the edge, but fighting something that large, that powerful, will push him further than any training ever could.

It's a fight to the death. It'll show me just how much further Baki can go. If he can defeat the bear, if he can overcome a creature that powerful, then maybe he's closer to catching up to me than I thought. And if not? Well, then he dies, and I start over. The Hanma bloodline always finds a way.

But deep down, I don't think he'll die. He's stronger than that. Baki is a monster, just like me. And monsters don't die easily.

I'll watch, I'll wait, and I'll push him further than he's ever been pushed before. I'll see just how far I can take him.

Baki POV

Today felt different. There was a tension in the air, an energy that hummed between us as my father silently led me deeper into the mountains. For a brief moment, I let myself believe that this could be it—maybe, finally, we were going to leave this isolated hell behind and head back to civilization. Maybe the training had ended.

I had grown stronger. My body was taller, bulkier, my muscles conditioned from months of survival and training. The wilderness had changed me, sharpened me in ways I hadn't expected. But despite all the growth, despite unlocking the Demon Back, I couldn't shake the feeling of isolation, of being cut off from the world. The idea of returning to civilization—of seeing people again, maybe even going to school—felt like a distant dream. Something I hadn't allowed myself to hope for.

As we moved further into the mountains, through the snow-covered forest, I felt the cold biting into my skin. It was harsh, but I'd gotten used to it. Survival has become second nature out here. My mind was already drifting to what I'd do once we were back. Maybe I could talk to someone, reconnect with the world I had left behind. But deep down, I knew my father. Yuujiro wasn't the type to offer easy rewards.

Still, the hope lingered.

Until he brought me to the cave.

I looked up, confused. The entrance was dark, yawning like the mouth of some great beast. My instincts were already on edge, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up. Something was wrong. I could feel it.

And then, with that smirk I had come to know all too well, Yujiro grabbed me by the collar and threw me inside.

Before I could even react, I hit the stone floor hard, the impact knocking the wind out of me. My body skidded across the ground, and for a moment, everything was a blur. The darkness of the cave swallowed me whole, and as I scrambled to my feet, I heard my father's voice echo from the entrance:

"Don't die."

That was it. No explanation. No warning. Just those two words, said with that cold, amused smirk that sent a chill down my spine.

I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest as I took in my surroundings. The cave was huge, the ceiling stretching up into the shadows, the air thick and damp. And then, I heard it. A low, rumbling growl.

At first, I thought it was just the wind. But then it came again—deeper this time, closer. My eyes adjusted to the dim light, and that's when I saw it. The bear.

It was massive. A towering, hulking beast of muscle and fur, easily 6 meters tall, its eyes glowing faintly in the darkness like two burning embers. Its claws, long and jagged, scraped against the stone as it moved, each step heavy enough to send small tremors through the ground. The air itself seemed to vibrate with the force of its presence. This wasn't just an animal. This was a monster.

And I was trapped with it.