akira tendo ◭ pyros manteia

Rio, as he began calling himself afterward, formed the core of his world for the longest time. Time meant precious little in the state Akira found himself in the aftermath of the incident, but his former lover was a constant flame in his life that never went out. Rio refined his compulsion towards stealing into a conscious art form in an effort to keep them both afloat, fencing stolen goods when and wherever he could manage it, among other things. Rio didn't always tell Akira what he was up to and Akira never questioned him whenever the topic came up, but hindsight always dictated a much more active role in the grand scheme of things than what actually occurred. Akira could only just barely function on his own without assistance, much less keep a much closer eye on someone his former self had once cared about.

That is, until the night Rio came home broken and bleeding.

It occurred to him then that something had gone wrong somewhere along the way, something intrinsic to his nature that couldn't abide by the sight of Rio like that. It was a promise broken with every drop of blood on the floor that Rio would have to clean up after; it was his former word dashed violently against the rocks of his new reality. It just wouldn't do. So, they left whatever stinking hole his former lover had managed to scrape up from the bottom of the barrel and returned to the place where it had all began: the redlight district of Rytai. Akira led them to a place only he knew, the place where criminals went to affirm themselves in the dark of night. If anyone could give him a renewed sense of purpose it would be the old man, after all.

Unsurprisingly, the infamous Horishi of Rytai had already heard tell of his untimely death. He expressed his disappointment that one of his most intricate works of art had been destroyed and demanded repayment for his failure to preserve the honor that had been bestowed upon his former body. Akira swore to make it up to the old man and thus devoted himself as an apprentice to the art in exchange for a modest and perhaps more importantly, safe living for the both of them. What might have been a boring and ultimately menial punishment to anyone else became a constant reminder of the torment he suffered in his former life, perpetually struggling to overcome the obstacles that his neurological disability had left him with.

Akira spent most of his free time painting the world and the people that lived within it as he now saw them, which eventually caught the interest of a handful of newcomers, drawn in by the unique and colorful designs. Persuaded by popular demand amongst the younger generation, who were not as easily impressed by traditional artwork, the old man conceded to his creativity and began teaching him in earnest. Akira learned slowly but surely over the years, until one day the old man gave him one simple task to complete before he could ever be considered worthy of the title. Akira must first design his own tattoo, one that he would have to live with for the rest of his life, and then apply it to his own skin in the old fashion.