a life of tradition.[break]
a life of simplicity.[break][break]

the story of the antihero in all of its pure, faulty architecture. say what you will about the stereotypes, and say what you will about the dryness of tragedy. the fact of the matter is that regardless of tragedies or not, this novel had been the one written for you; forged for you; bestowed upon you, whether you would have ever liked it or not. your destiny was decided for you long before you came to be, and as we speak, you're doing nothing more than living your life the way it was always meant to be.[break][break]

your home will always be johto.[break][break]

a family of four, inclusive of yourself. your parents. your elder brother. you. young, naïve, unscathed you with bright eyes of viridian constantly and eagerly taking the sights in around you. the name you bear now truthfully hadn't been your given name, either. kazuro. kazuro is the name that has long since been lost to you, but a name that still holds meaning and nostalgia, nonetheless; a distant memory of what used to be, and a distant memory of what you'd lost to date. you and your own had been from a line of monks hailing from ecruteak city. the lifestyle of such was to be expected, as far as the public knew. your parents had dealings beneath the surface, however, as the footsteps that you follow, now, had once been theirs.[break][break]

to put it simply, they were the ones that jumpstarted your current "career."[break]
by no means were they ruthless, however.[break][break]

they were anything but.[break][break]

you're not quite sure how they entered the line of work that they took part in. you heard references of past family members dating back generations having dabbled in similar matters when civilization was less civil, and when settling issues in the name of some form of righteousness had been more easily looked over. and yet, with the modern times being modern times, your parents worked diligently from beneath the masquerade of modern life. to say that your identity as monks had been a lie would've been false, but to say that that's all you were wouldn't have been the entire truth, either.[break][break]

it was what laid beneath the surface, however, that took them from you.[break][break]

logically speaking, it was only to be expected, on some level. danger begets danger, after all, and it just so happened that your parents paid the price for being involved in what they were. your brother had been the one to find them, all while you'd been asleep long before. not too long after, you were woken up to the sound of sirens and clambering, and the bustling of footsteps and voices.[break][break]

you didn't quite understand what happened until the body bags were brought away.[break][break]

from then on, you moved away from the city. goldenrod city become your new home at behest of some relatives that reached out to you and your brother, and it was where you spent the next several years of your life, altogether. it was different, to say the very least. despite being within the same region, the culture was somewhat of a shock (among other things that you were still recovering from), but you still acclimated as necessary. you're aware that you would've taken the years much harder if it hadn't been for your brother, and glad were you to have him by your side through thick and thin.[break][break]

what comes next should be on the nose, though.[break][break]

truthfully speaking, it hadn't happened too far from the present. six years ago. you were only nineteen years of age (fresh in your university life) when you'd found out just how deep your brother had fallen into the rabbit hole. for full discretion, the two of you were aware of what your parents did, and against their wishes, your brother had actually been one to train to follow behind them. all that time, he'd been doing what little research he could into what happened whenever possible. the only reason you found out was because you stumbled on a few notes by chance, and it was then that you realized that he intended to act as a karmic vessel.[break][break]

you thought deeply about it.[break]
you recalled the anger you experienced with realization as the years passed.[break]
you approached him about it.[break]
you offered him your aid.[break][break]

blindsided, to say the least. he was more than blindsided for multiple reasons, but in the grand scheme of things (and with enough persistence on your end), he did choose to give him. after all, combat had been something neither of you were new to, as the both of you were the athletically combatant types since childhood. your brother made sure to train you more during your sparring sessions to prepare you and sharpen your reflexes even more, but you were capable. you had to be.[break][break]

in the end, you were successful. somehow (with the time spent to gather such things still lost upon you), your brother had gathered resources. connections. truly following in your parents' footsteps, all until you found your ways to one olivine city, just a stone's throw away from your hometown. that was where the assailants from all those years ago supposedly resided. you were aware that what you were about to do was risky. you were aware that it was dangerous.[break][break]

you were ready, though.[break]
for them, you would always be ready.[break][break]

so, you proceeded. you succeeded, oddly and surprisingly enough. those that had wronged you all those years were found by the necessary authorities by sunrise within the next days- and the two of you had already been gone. your brother, ever the planner, had already accounted for matters that would attribute to your escape and leisure, and the streak only continued from then on. as if a reflection of the past, you walked in the footsteps of your parents, and even went on to pave steps of your own, past that.[break][break]

as some point, you chose to relinquish your given name, however. far be it to have been a preference, but you'd still done so as a means of caution in the face of the occupation you'd taken for yourself, because let's not forget.[break][break]

this is the story of an antihero.[break]
an antihero's story is seldom kind, and an antihero's story is seldom without loss.[break][break]

so did you lose your brother, as well, to the very same matters that costed you the rest of your family. you escaped the situation that had taken him, and with the help of another that you'd found to become your beloved in the line of work, you followed in his footsteps in orchestrating retribution. you still remember the anger of it all; the anger of losing your last, long-lasting anchor.[break][break]

there was something that always tasted bitter in the midst of it, but you wouldn't say you regretted it. following the incident had been
a number of close calls, however; ones that had ultimately been the cause of leaving your name behind. in all senses, you'd done your best to lay kazuro to rest, all while donning the mask of asahiko. with connections you'd met and worked with through your brother, you tied up loose ends. you gathered new (forged) documents, and certificates, and a new identity, altogether.[break][break]

three years later would bring us to the present.[break][break]

life lived. contracts selectively taken, all under the code of delivering retribution to those that were wronged. contracts succeeded. a cycle continued, and a cycle repeated. the only difference this time around was the absence of another individual, by the near completion of the third year.[break][break]

the selfsame beloved that you'd met earlier on.[break][break]

you don't quite know why she left. you don't quite know where she went. you're not sure if she'd been revolted by your display all those years ago while choosing to say naught a word, but at the very least, you decided to search for her, after some contemplation. you want answers, at the very least.[break][break]

you need answers.[break][break]

so here you are, a long shot away from home. such is where the intel brought you, and such is where you brought yourself.[break][break]
you're just here to find your last anchor.