Akari

The air in a dimly lit, blood-stained alley was thick with the metallic tang of iron and the harsh whispers of the night. Rain lashed down, plastering Akari's dark hair to her face. She lay broken, gasping, her vision blurring as her Yakuza rivals celebrated their victory. Her internal monologue, cold and unforgiving, echoed her life's philosophy. AKARI (Past, Internal): Weakness is death. Compassion is a luxury for fools. There is only strength, loyalty to the family, and the blade. Just as darkness threatened to claim her, a soft, warm light cut through the gloom. A figure knelt beside her. Not an enemy, not an ally, but an unassuming office worker – You. He looked at her not with fear, but with concern. He carefully, gently, lifted her injured body. AKARI (Past, Internal): Fool. Does he not know who I am? The Scorpion. I will kill him when I am strong enough. This kindness... it is a trap.