Prologue

"I like you. Go out with me."

"Hahahaha… oh, wait. You were serious! Umm… no offence, but I really don't think of you that way, hahaha."

As famous last words go, this conversation was a little on the cringeworthy side. And by a little, I meant it was embarrassing enough that I was considering possible holes I could crawl into and die. That exchange marked the end of whatever semblance of a normal school life I had. At the time, I had hoped, and expected that the recipient of my confession would spare me any further humiliation by at least keeping it to herself. In hindsight, I couldn't have been more unrealistic if I had been waiting for a meteor to wipe out the school. Needless to say, everyone knew, and I arrived the next day to find a special greeting scribbled out for me on the blackboard. It was then that I knew that it was all over.

I wasn't just a social outcast. I had been designated the target of all jokes.

Now I'll be honest: I know for a fact that I wasn't the only kid in Japan to go through something like this. But I was a naive fifteen year old who had spent a lot of time doing my best to be accepted. And I'd just seen it all go up in flames. So, saying I was feeling sad, crushed and angry would be an understatement. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that this was the sort of incident that could change a person's way of looking at the world. And as a matter of fact, it changed mine.

It would have been easy to withdraw into my shell. To run away, and make my way through life passively. To avoid confrontation, and just become the sort of guy who lived for the sake of living.

Maybe that version of me would have gone as far as to say that that way of thinking is not pessimism. That it's realism. That it was the only logical way of living.

But, it was minutes after my failed confession, on my way back home, that I had the singular encounter that changed the path I would go down.

There was an old school gaming arcade I frequented, that wasn't very popular in my school.

The reason was because it had the classic arcade machines, with Street Fighter II and Street Fighter: Third Strike on them. In other words, games that needed actual skill to play. Most people weren't fond of spending money on a coin for the slot machine, only to be utterly wrecked by the AI opponent, or worse yet, completely humiliated by one of the hardcore fighting gamers who frequented the place.

As for me… well, I can't really pretend I was ever really good at any of the Street Fighter games. The reason I played was because the art and character designs were amazing. Every fighter had a personality, and uniquely quirky attack animations, and every now and then, I'd be able to pull off a cool move. That was enough to keep me coming back for more.

On this particular day, I was surprised to find all the machines already occupied. The only free slot was against another guy, who seemed a little older than me. You know, I should have remembered what he looked like. But when I try to recall, all I see is a guy in a traditional school uniform, with the sleeves rolled up, playing Street Fighter.

Wordlessly, I placed a coin into the slot, and grabbed the free arcade stick.

"You sure about that? You're going to get wrecked, you know."

In answer, I merely shrugged.

Like I said, I didn't particularly care about winning, and I was doubly apathetic on that day.

The absolute lack of response from me made him pause and look at me for a moment before he selected his character.

He'd picked Ken.

For no particular reason, I ended up picking Ryu. His moveset wasn't particularly flashy, but there was a weight and sense of power to every blow.

"Ah, interesting choice. I was sure an edgelord like you would pick Gouki."

Gouki, or, as you westerners prefer to call him, Akuma, was the offensive badass of the game. He was basically the Karate based character on steroids. A stronger, faster, more aggressive Ryu. But in exchange for overwhelming attacking power, he sacrificed health and resilience, meaning he took more damage, and could be stunned easily too.

If you put all those traits together, along with his darker character design… you basically obtained the edgelord king, every chunii's wet dream, a guy with arms the size of your thigh, spiky red hair, and the ability to teleport behind you. He could follow up the teleport not by saying it wasn't personal, but instead by the more badass "Die one thousand deaths", right before initiating his super move.

I won't lie, I was fond of Akuma's design, but I'd always sort of admired Ryu's quiet resolve.

Thus, this boy's attempts to get under my skin didn't work.

The match began, and he very quickly destroyed me in the first round.

It took me only a few seconds to realize that he wasn't a good player.

He was an exceptional player.

I stood no chance at all against him, and resolved myself to getting my ass handed to me in the second round too.

He looked at me curiously as the start of round animations played out. When the round began, he was far less offensive than he had been in the first round. His jump ins were easier to see coming, and his fireballs were slower. This gave me a chance to play a little analytically, and punish some of his errors.

I ended up taking the round, though barely.

Towards the end, I'd gotten pretty aggressive myself.

I knew he was the better player by a mile and a half, but I still felt I had a chance to win.

When the third round began, I did stuff I normally didn't while playing Ryu.

Tried jump-in attacks. Linked from jumping heavies to tatsus to shoryus. These were basic Ryu combos, but I very rarely tried them against other players, preferring to attempt them against the AI.

The crazy thing was, a bunch of them landed.

Before long, we were both at half health.

"Can you parry?" he asked suddenly.

In the heat of the moment, I'd forgotten entirely about the incident at school. I didn't even remember that I was sad, or angry.

So I answered normally.

"I know the input."

"How about a wager? I'll do a super. If you can parry it, you win. The match, and little something extra. If I win, you're going to buy me a burger."

"Here I was thinking you weren't a delinquent," I replied.

He laughed.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to make the match more exciting."

"How do I know you aren't baiting me?"

In reply, he effortless broke my defences and combo'd me till only around ten percent of my health remained.

"You were saying?"

My teeth were clenched, but I wasn't angry.

My health was low enough that a single combo would finish me off.

And he'd just demonstrated that he could do a mixup into a combo any time he wanted.

My only hope of winning, was to take him up on his challenge.

"You really know how to back a guy into a corner, huh?"

"Hey, I'm just raising the stakes. Be honest: you don't think this is fifteen million times as fun as a regular ass match?"

In spite of myself. I found a grin coming onto my face.

"Fair enough. All right. You're on."

"Now we're talking! Get ready: Here I come."

Now, the thing about Street Fighter supermoves is that they have multiple active frames. During each of those frames, if your character is in contact with the character performing the super, you take damage. This is true even if you're blocking. The damage is reduced, but it still chips away at your health. Also, they weren't interruptible once they started. Meaning, a single parry wouldn't save me from a super.

A parry, by the way, was performed by inputing the direction towards the opponent's character, just before their attack connects. The input has to be almost frame perfect.

In other words, to pull this off, I would have to input "forward" multiple times, and block each and every frame of his attack.

This was incredibly difficult.

It was only a legendary feat performed by pro gamer Daigo Umehara, who was called the Beast. Named "Evo Moment 37" and caught on camera, it featured him, in a tournament match, using Ken to deflect every single one of Chun Li's kicks in her super, before countering with a super of his own to take the round.

The Beast had pulled it off with stone cold calmness and legendary skill.

I had neither.

Cheap hype and luck would have to suffice for me.

I waited for the screen flash and animation that indicated the start of the super, and then rammed the stick in his direction at what I felt was the right moment.

I was barely able to realize that I'd been able to parry the first frame.

Working on autopilot, I continued to input "forward", with nothing guiding me except what things were looking like based on the animations on screen.

And somehow, every time, I was able to get the parry.

Ken's corkscrew uppercut had been nullified.

In hindsight, it was almost just as impressive that the guy was able to pick the exact moment to say his next words, so that they would register in my brain, but not distract me.

"Go on, kid. Become a badass."

Hoping I wouldn't fuck up the input, I rotated the stick and hit the button.

My heart stopped for a moment… until a blue flash shot across the screen.

Ryu's double uppercut had initiated.

Ken, who was still in negative frames from having his super blocked, couldn't guard, and the remaining half of his health bar was obliterated.

The match was over, and somehow, I'd pulled off the miracle… and won.

Of course, he'd let me win. Announced his move in advance, a move I was able to counter only through sheer luck. But it didn't change the fact that that was the most amazing moment I'd ever experienced.

It was only after it was over that I was aware that people were watching. I could see the other Arcade regulars, many of whom had seen our entire match.

And that was a new experience.

Every time I'd been in front of a crowd before, I'd been laughed at. I used to think it was in good fun, but that afternoon's events had showed me otherwise.

But this… I was standing in front of a bunch of people, most of them older than me… and they were looking at me with approval. Even respect.

"Come on," said my opponent. "Let's take a walk around this place."

I ended up following him over to the soft drink vending machine inside the arcade, where we both got something to quench the thirst.

"You should smile more often, kid," he said.

I raised an eyebrow.

"Where'd that come from?"

"Well, you walked in here looking like someone who'd just had his dog kicked and couldn't do anything about it."

"Hah. Accurate enough. I don't think I could do anything even if someone decided to kick a dog (assuming I had one)."

"Yeah, that sort of loser thinking doesn't fit you."

I looked up at him.

The distinction in his word choice hadn't gone unnoticed.

He hadn't called me a loser.

Only said that I shouldn't think like one.

"All right, look, kid. I normally don't do this, and I'm still not sure how this crazy match even happened, but I'll give you a free piece of advice. If you're smart, you'll take it. It'll change your life."

This sounded an awful lot like some kind of hoax (my father had warned me about those). Before I could say that out loud though, he spoke.

"There's only one thing worth living for. And that's to have fun."

I stared at him.

"That's…"

I'm not even sure what reply I had to that, but it couldn't have been anything very meaningful, and he must have realized that, because he continued.

If he'd given me some kind of lecture, I don't think I'd have taken him seriously.

But this effortlessly cool guy already knew that.

So he walked away, only pausing briefly to turn around, and say his final words to me.

"You don't owe the world a thing. Just have fun."

I never saw that guy again.

But what he said, stayed with me..

One year later:

"... Hikigaya. What is this supposed to be?"

I looked at the teacher sitting in front of me, leaning back on her chair with her legs crossed. Careful, Sensei. You'll give a guy the wrong idea.

"It's an essay," I said smoothly.

I could see she was irritated by my answer, and her temper was steadily rising.

"And what exactly were you supposed to write an essay on?"

"On youth and the high school experience."

She glared at me.

"Then why," she said, "Have you given me this rubbish about "people being overrated", and "the only worthwhile path to take" and all the rest of this? This isn't Shounen Jump!"

"If only it were half as cool," I replied.

By this time, her patience was at an end, and she snapped.

She stood up and smashed her fist into my stomach.

I'll be honest. She had a decent amount of power in that hit. If she'd caught me loose with that, it'd probably hurt a bit.

But, the thing about telegraphing your punches is that one gets the chance to respond. You know, by punching you first. Or, in this case, by tightening my core so that it crashed harmlessly against my abs.

She blinked a few times.

Evidently, she had been expecting a different result than this.

"Nice punch, Sensei. Needs more hip rotation, but not bad."

Her jaw hung open, and I grinned slightly.

"Now, this is normally where you tell me to rewrite the whole thing, but considering the fact that it wouldn't go so well for you if I were to tell the principal or someone about it… how about we settle for an "A" grade on this essay, and an agreement to not mention this again?"

Without waiting for an answer, I walked away.

"Looking forward to your decision, Sensei. Peace."