Haruka sat at the edge of his bed, the morning light creeping across the floor as he stared out the window over the city's quiet rooftops, his mind working restlessly. His body, huge and muscular, was like something straight out of a fighting anime—Broly's power made real, all bulk and raw energy under the skin. His grandfather's stories about their faraway ancestor—an alien with a tail, stronger than anyone else—felt a little less like a joke and a little more real every day. That power inside him was always simmering, waiting for a reason to explode.
In Haruka's world, average people lived for centuries. Kids only started real school at age 12, and high school, where Haruka was now, didn't begin until you turned 21. So his classmates weren't kids—everyone was an adult, old enough to get in trouble, make choices, or face real danger. Despite all that, Haruka was on his own—never spoke much to anyone except his cousin Akeno, and to Natsu, the girl he'd helped, rescued, and now shared a life with. But that "alone" did nothing to cool down the desires growing inside him. He was a virgin, but his head was always full of lust, ideas, fantasy—especially about conquering women, being the center of attention, and using his strange power not just for himself, but as a way to claim what he wanted.
Sometimes his memories played tricks on him. He'd see the faces of people—in class, on the street—and they would catch him off guard. Like he'd lived a hundred lives before and was pulling memories out of some deep, hidden place. This morning was like that, the aftertaste of a dream still filling his head. He was back in the classroom, a dozen faces blurred together, flashes of something he couldn't quite grab—except for Natsu, always sharp, always burning in his mind.
The story with Natsu haunted him. He'd once forgotten the beginning, but now he remembered everything, like a hentai anime that had somehow come to life, full of intensity and dark scenes. Natsu and Kou, childhood friends, became inseparable, then lovers—pushing each other farther every year, always wanting more, giving in to wild passion anywhere they could: empty classrooms, storerooms, back corners of the school.
But what started as a wild, illicit romance turned ugly fast. The school's security cameras—cheap, old, harshly lit—were supposed to protect students, keep them safe. But what no one realized was that a teacher who ran the camera club had found a way to hook into all the feeds. He wasn't just a teacher—he was a creep, quietly blackmailing Natsu, threatening to leak videos unless she did what he wanted. That control turned her into his puppet, making her docile, addicted to following his command, slowly eating away at her will.
Haruka was the only one who figured it out. That day, wandering the halls, he heard the noises from an empty classroom and followed his curiosity straight into a nightmare. He found Natsu shaking, vulnerable, her eyes trapped in both fear and shame. The teacher, overconfident and disgusting, never saw Haruka coming.
What happened next exploded out of Haruka before he knew what was happening. Rage—a kind of blind, Broly-like fury—took over. His fists hammered the teacher over and over, breaking bone and burying teeth in the floor. By the time he stopped, the man was dead, and blood was everywhere.
A strangled silence filled the room. Haruka's hands shook; he felt sick and electrified all at once. "I killed him," he whispered, voice broken. He knelt, took off his shirt, and wrapped it around Natsu, who stared at him with disbelief, terror, and—deep down—relief. Something of her old fire lit up too.
She didn't run. She grabbed the camera, smashing it into the dead man's face; each hit released years of fear. "I'll take responsibility. If I were stronger, nothing would have happened to me." Her words shocked Haruka with their honesty.
When she put the mangled camera down, Haruka moved into clean-up mode. He told her to find a big duffel bag—a brand-new one, no fingerprints or connection to the old life. She did, quick and focused. Together, they cleaned up the room: sanitizer, rags, alcohol, scrubbing everywhere, ignoring their trembling hands.
Before locking the door, Haruka searched for all the teacher's electronics. He checked the CPU for any possible cloud uploads—luckily, the system was so outdated nothing ever left the school. He smashed the computer and the teacher's phone, pulling all the storage disks and shoving them into the duffel. He looked up at the security camera one last time, gave it a bitter, mocking wave, then locked the door.
The hallways outside felt empty as a tomb as they hurried away with the bag. Nobody noticed them. But Maria, a classmate who always seemed to be awake, watched silently. She never said a word about what she saw.
By the time Haruka got Natsu back to the villa, the adrenaline was fading. Akeno, who'd watched Haruka and Natsu grow closer, wasn't pleased at seeing them arrive together. She asked why Natsu was with him, her voice sharp. Haruka explained what happened—the punch, the death, the blackmail, the bag over his shoulder. Akeno took Natsu into a side room and locked her in, then rushed back to Haruka: "Should we kill her? What if she talks?" She was scared, but thinking fast.
Haruka shook his head. "Not now. Let's buy a pig farm. It's the only way." He checked the listings; there was a rundown one outside the city, way out where no one would think to look. Hours later, while Natsu hid in the locked room, Haruka and Akeno drove out with the bag.
At the farm, they dumped the corpse and all evidence into the incineration pit, pouring in all the accelerant they'd found, and burned everything all night until nothing but ashes were left. Haruka slept in the car, Akeno keeping watch. They didn't talk much. They watched the smoke rise as the last of the teacher's evil vanished forever.
Back at school, Haruka woke tired, his head still pounding. The new bags he'd ordered—identical to the one he'd used in the cleanup—had arrived and sat by his door in the morning. He took them to the baseball equipment room, put them away in the same spot, blending with all the others so nobody would notice. Then he waited, watching the class. His classmates never suspected a thing; nobody seemed to recognize he'd been at the center of a murder less than 24 hours ago.
As the days passed, rumors buzzed around campus. The security camera operator went missing. The basement camera room was trashed, computers destroyed, backup discs gone. No one had seen the teacher who'd liked "helping" students with the camera club. Parents gossiped, teachers swapped theories, police questioned everyone, but the clues ran out quickly.
Haruka kept to himself, brooding over the memory of what he'd done, but also wanting more. The thrill of action, the feeling of strength, the hot, wild rush in his veins—the kind of lust and hunger he'd only seen characters have in anime and manga—now lived in him every day.
He watched Natsu at school and at home, wondering how to keep control of her, afraid if he pushed too hard she'd break, but if he let go she'd betray him. With Akeno, it was a tense truce: she resented how close he was to Natsu, sometimes acting cold, sometimes helping. Their own relationship was a weird dance, a test of jealousy and loyalty.
Sometimes, late at night, Haruka dropped into bed, shut his eyes, and tried to see the faces from his old life. He wanted to remember something from long ago, an answer that always felt just out of reach—why he cared so much about control, conquest, and desire. The answer never came. The next morning, he'd wake up, lust burning again, muscle tense, hungry for power.
People in school kept changing too. Faces flickered in and out, students and teachers with strange talents, magical things on their phones or weird artifacts in their pockets. Haruka began making a mental list of those he wanted to watch, maybe capture, maybe use. He kept an eye on Morishito—a guy who, rumor had it, was waiting for something to appear on his phone, maybe even the legendary hypnotic "app" like in that infamous hentai he remembered. Haruka checked Morishito every day, waiting for something unusual. He felt his own blood start to boil as he thought about what he could do if he had magic for himself.
Haruka's world was still full of danger and secrets. Maria sometimes looked at him with a knowing smile, but never said anything about that night, almost as if daring him to guess her secrets too.
The story of Natsu and Kou faded as the days grew longer, but the lessons remained: this world was ugly and beautiful, full of hunger, lust, and threats. Haruka made a decision. He was going to get stronger, win more, claim everything he wanted, no matter the cost. He'd collect powerful people, magical objects, capture women who caught his eye, and use them to satisfy the endless hunger his bloodline had given him.