In a little, simple home snuggled near the coastline, a young kid called Kaito dealt with his mom. One peaceful mid-day, while checking out the dirty attic room, his interest led him to an old, durable breast hid below a stack of failed to remember coverings. With a grunt, he handling to tear open the hefty cover, exposing a range of old mementos, discolored materials, and below everything, a solitary fruit unlike any type of he 'd seen prior to. It wasnt the dynamic, swirled fruit explained in the sensational stories murmured amongst seafarers; it looked, oddly, like a completely regular, possibly somewhat large, orange, albeit with an unnervingly smooth, unblemished skin. He chose it up, feeling its strong weight in his little hand, a pale, wonderful scent clinging to it. This was no typical fruit, though it did not have the telltale patterns-- it was, unidentified to Kaito, an akuma-no-mi, its inactive power existing deep within, waiting on the minute it would lastly stir up.
Added: May 16, 2025
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