Chapter 1: The Fire Beneath the Ashes
The hum of the computer fan filled the dim room, a dull reminder of how long it had been since Joji Tenshi last moved. Crumbs from a half-eaten convenience store sandwich stuck to his wrinkled shirt. His eyes, bloodshot and dry, stayed locked on the vibrant world displayed on the screen in front of him.
Another anime episode. Another game match. Another day wasted.
"Is this all I am?" Joji thought as he leaned back in his chair, the cheap leather peeling beneath his weight.
He was fifteen years old, living in the bustling city of Osaka, yet he felt more like a ghost drifting through life than a real boy with a future. School had become an afterthought. Meals were skipped unless Naru-ojisan, his uncle, forced him to eat. Even then, Joji barely touched the food before rushing back to his room, retreating into the colorful, unrealistic worlds he wished he lived in.
There had been a time, once, when Joji burned with energy, running through parks, challenging the neighborhood kids to races, always dreaming about "becoming someone great" someday.
But all that died the moment his father, Kazuhara Tenshi, walked out of his life.
"He said nothing," Joji recalled bitterly. "Just left me at Naru-ojisan's doorstep, bowed, and disappeared."
The explanation came later, though it hardly softened the blow. Joji's mother, Hana Tenshi, had died giving birth to him. Overwhelmed by grief, guilt, and fear, Kazuhara had abandoned his 5 year old son to chase a new life in Kyoto, leaving Joji to grow up without a real parent.
It made Joji terrified of getting attached.
"If even a father can leave, what else can?"
The computer screen flickered as an ad popped up — a documentary highlight about a boxer named Louise Chapter. Normally, Joji would have clicked away without a second thought. But for some reason, he paused. The thumbnail showed a young man standing in a darkened boxing ring, light pouring down like a divine spotlight. His fists were raised, not in celebration, but in defiance.
There was something haunting in that image.
Something... familiar.
Curious, Joji clicked.
The story began.
Louise Chapter wasn't born strong.
He was quiet, awkward, someone who found solace in picking up litter others left behind, someone who mended broken benches in forgotten parks with his own hands. People rarely noticed. And Louise liked it that way. Because deep down, he was scared.
Scared of getting close to anyone.
Scared that anyone he loved would vanish — just like Joji's father had.
It was Elira Rivera who broke through his walls.
A bright, relentless girl who noticed him.
Who noticed the boy who thought he was invisible.
At first, Louise tried to push her away.
She would smile and shrug it off.
He would avoid her.
She would show up with homemade lunchboxes.
He would tell her to leave him alone.
She would laugh and sit beside him anyway.
Slowly, painfully, Louise allowed himself to feel.
They fell in love in the quiet moments between the chaos of life — when the world seemed to forget them and they could exist just for each other.
By 23, they were engaged.
Louise found purpose in boxing, not because he wanted fame or fortune, but because fighting gave him control over something — even if it was just his own body. He trained relentlessly, working jobs during the day and pounding away at punching bags at night.
Meanwhile, Elira became a rising star in the writing world, her novels capturing raw, aching truths that resonated with thousands.
They promised they would take on the world together.
And for a time, it seemed they would.
Until the night of the ComicCon convention.
Elira had stayed behind to meet with some fans and fellow authors. Louise was supposed to pick her up but was caught up at training.
"It'll only be an hour," she had said, smiling.
"I'll be fine."
She wasn't.
Gangsters, high on drugs and rage, cornered her in a dark alley near the venue.
There were no heroes there to save her.
No last-minute miracles.
Elira was raped.
Murdered.
The news shattered Louise.
The gangsters were arrested within days, their faces plastered across every news channel.
But it didn't bring Elira back.
It didn't erase the guilt that gnawed at Louise's soul.
Elira's parents, broken by grief, lashed out at the only person they could — blaming Louise for not being there, for failing to protect their daughter.
He couldn't even argue.
The darkness inside him festered until one night, Louise stood in his empty apartment with a noose fashioned out of an old jump rope tied to the ceiling fan.
He stepped off the chair.
The rope snapped.
His neck had grown too strong from years of boxing training.
The fan crashed to the ground with a loud thud, leaving Louise gasping, broken, but alive.
And in the ruins of that moment, Louise made a decision.
He would not die.
He would live.
Not for himself.
Not even for Elira.
He would live so no one else would forget how dangerous and cruel the world could be — and how you still had to stand back up after it knocked you down.
He would fight until the day he couldn't stand anymore.
Louise Chapter would rise to become one of the greatest boxers the world had ever seen.
A symbol of resilience.
But fate remained cruel.
Years later, long after titles were won and lost, long after Louise had aged into a legend, he died quietly in his sleep from a heart attack — childless, legacy entrusted only to the people he had inspired.
The screen faded to black.
The documentary ended.
Joji sat in the darkness, feeling something unfamiliar stir deep inside him.
A heat in his chest.
A lump in his throat.
Tears welled up, but he swallowed them down.
"Louise never gave up. Even when he had every reason to," Joji thought. "What's my excuse?"
He looked around his cluttered room — piles of trash, dirty laundry, empty soda cans stacked like trophies of failure.
He thought about Naru-ojisan, quietly working every day to support him without complaint.
He thought about the fire he used to have before it got buried under years of self-pity and fear.
Joji stood up. His knees cracked from disuse.
He walked to the kitchen where a leftover meal sat cold on the counter.
For the first time in a long time, Joji picked it up without hesitation.
He sat at the small dining table and began to eat, each bite heavy but determined.
It was a small step.
But every journey, he realized, had to start somewhere.
And maybe, just maybe, he could dig through the ashes of his wasted years and find that buried fire again.
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[END OF CHAPTER]