[Sendo Orochi]

The streets of Shinjuku buzzed with their usual energy, neon lights reflecting off puddles from a recent rain. Crowds swarmed the sidewalks, a mixture of hurried professionals, curious tourists, and locals going about their lives. Among them strode Sendo, hands in his pockets, fiery orange hair catching the glint of the streetlights. Despite the chaos around him, he wore an uncharacteristically contemplative expression.



He wasn’t here to pick a fight today. Not that he couldn’t; plenty of shady characters lurked in these alleys, itching to give him an excuse. But his mother’s voice echoed in his head—a soft reprimand, a plea for him to be more than his anger. Her words weighed on him, pushing him toward something he wasn’t entirely comfortable with: decency.



The first opportunity came as he turned a corner. A small boy, no older than eight, stood near a vending machine, his face scrunched in frustration. His hand kept jamming into the coin slot, failing to coax the machine into action. Sendo stopped, sighed, and approached.



“What’s the deal, kid?” he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind.



The boy looked up, startled. “My coins won’t work,” he mumbled, holding up a handful of loose change.



“Lemme see.” Sendo took the coins, inspecting them with exaggerated seriousness. He knew they were fine, but it gave him time to fish a bill from his pocket. He shoved it into the machine and punched a few buttons. Moments later, a can of juice clattered into the tray. He handed it to the boy without meeting his gaze.



“Keep your coins. Consider it luck.”



The boy’s face lit up. “Thanks, mister!”



Sendo waved him off, muttering, “Yeah, yeah, don’t make a big deal out of it.”



Further down the street, he spotted an elderly woman struggling with a heavy shopping bag. She huffed and puffed, clearly regretting her decision to take on such a load by herself. Sendo hesitated, his natural instinct to mind his own business battling with a nagging guilt.



“Oh, for crying out loud,” he muttered, walking over. Without asking, he scooped up the bag, slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.



“Where to, lady?”



The woman blinked up at him, startled. “Oh, uh… just a block down.”



“Let’s go, then,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.



They walked in silence, and Sendo found himself wondering why this felt weird to him. This selfless feeling is new to him. Soemthing he isn't use too. It was ....good. Maybe it was the way her posture relaxed, or the faint smile on her face as they reached her door. She thanked him profusely, and he waved it off, turning back before the warmth of her gratitude got to him.



Later, as he wandered aimlessly, a stray cat darted out from an alley, yowling pitifully. It rubbed against his leg, looking up with wide, imploring eyes. Sendo groaned.



“I ain’t your dad, fuzzball.”



Still, he crouched, pulling a small snack from his jacket pocket. The cat sniffed it eagerly before devouring it.



“Fine, eat. But don’t follow me.”



The cat meowed, brushing against him again before disappearing. Sendo straightened, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "At least no one is watching me going soft in this damn city." His words were ironic.



He’d fought countless street fights in the city, but this was something else entirely. Small, random acts of kindness—it felt strange, but not wrong. Maybe, just maybe, he could balance the fire inside him with something softer.



@name

[Sendo Orochi]

The commotion came from a narrow alley just off the main street. Sendo had been debating heading home, his earlier attempts at decency already giving him an odd sense of accomplishment, when the muffled sound of a woman’s scream froze him in his tracks. He turned toward the alley, his sharp eyes catching the flicker of movement—a woman clutching her son tightly, cornered by two men. One had a knife, the other a menacing grin.

“Hand over your bag, lady,” the man with the knife snarled, waving it threateningly. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

The boy whimpered, hiding his face against his mother’s coat. She shielded him, her hands trembling as she fumbled to hand over her purse.

Sendo cracked his knuckles, his fiery temperament bubbling to the surface. This? This he couldn’t ignore. His mother might’ve lectured him about kindness, but there were some things even she wouldn’t object to. Without hesitation, he stepped into the alley, his voice ringing loud and sharp.

“Oi! Two grown men ganging up on a lady and her kid? Pathetic.”

The muggers turned toward him, startled. The man with the knife sneered. “Mind your business, punk, unless you wanna get cut.”

Sendo grinned, the fiery confidence he was known for surging through him. “I’d like to see you try.”

The knife-wielder lunged, aiming to slash at Sendo. But Sendo sidestepped effortlessly, grabbing the man’s wrist mid-swing and twisting it. The knife clattered to the ground as the thug yelped in pain. Before the second man could react, Sendo’s free hand shot out, delivering a solid punch to his gut. The thug staggered back, wheezing.

“You guys hit like toddlers,” Sendo said, his grin widening. “C’mon, make this fun for me.”

The second man, enraged, swung wildly, but Sendo ducked under the blow, landing a brutal uppercut that sent him sprawling to the ground. The knife-wielder scrambled to his feet, only to catch a devastating roundhouse kick to the side of his head. He collapsed in a heap beside his partner.

Sendo dusted off his hands and turned to the woman, who still clutched her son tightly, her eyes wide with shock.

“You okay, lady?” he asked, his tone softer now.

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you! I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t…”

Sendo waved her off, his usual bravado masking the warmth spreading through his chest. “Don’t mention it. Just keep an eye on your kid, yeah?”

As they left, he glanced at the unconscious thugs. His fists throbbed, but he smirked. This kind of fight, one that made a difference, felt better than any he’d had in a long time.


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