Time flowed like a river, carrying both warriors toward destiny.
Karikalan prepared for his debut martial arts tournament with relentless focus. Every day, his workouts grew fiercer, his dedication unshaken.
Even when heavy rain lashed against him, he did not stop. His fists struck through the storm, his body enduring the elements until it became more durable than ever before.
His spirit whispered only one vow: "No matter what, I will not lose this battle against Elara."
On the other end, Elara began his own training. His warmups were precise, his martial arts practice sharp and calculated. Each movement carried arrogance, but also certainty. His voice echoed in the hall: "I will win this tournament, no matter what happens."
Two warriors. Two paths. One forged in suffering and resilience, the other in pride and dominance. Both prepared for the same battlefield, both driven by promises made years ago.
The storm of destiny gathered. The 23rd Martial Arts Tournament would not just be a contest of skill — it would be the collision of two wills, sharpened by time and bound by rivalry.
Night draped itself over the town, quiet yet alive with anticipation. In the heart of the city stood a famous building — a place where actors and actresses gathered to celebrate their victories whenever a film became a blockbuster.
Inside one of its rooms, a servant knocked gently. "Mam, please open the door. I brought food for your dinner."
"Come in," the woman replied softly.
The servant entered, carefully setting the tray before her. Hesitating, he spoke: "Mam… I have a request. I've been a fan of yours since your debut movie. For the first time in five years, I've felt happiness working here. Please… may I have your autograph? Don't say no."
The actress smiled faintly. "Thank you for your kind words. I will surely give you my autograph."
She signed her name, handing it to him. The servant's eyes lit up. "Thank you, mam. I will never forget this opportunity in my whole life." He ran out, clutching the paper like treasure.
Left alone, the actress sighed. "Well… everyone praises me for my acting. But behind that praise, I suffer more than anyone knows. My first audition ended in rejection. They said my performance was poor. But I never gave up. I tried again and again… and now I've become one of the most recognized actresses in the industry.
Yet for this fame, I lost my happiness. I lost emotions. I can't even step outside without guardians monitoring me. Every moment of freedom has been taken away."
Her thoughts lingered in frustration, the weight of success pressing down on her.
Suddenly, an assistant entered. "Mam, please come to the dining hall. The party for your successful movie is about to begin."
She straightened, masking her sorrow with a practiced smile. "All right. I'll come within a minute."
And with that, she walked to the dining hall, her footsteps echoing the silent truth — that even in triumph, loneliness remained her shadow.
The night air was heavy as Karikalan jogged along the road, sweat dripping from his relentless training. His stomach growled, sharp and unforgiving. "Dammit… hungry again. If I don't fix this before the matches, I'll be eliminated in the first round. I spent everything — anime subscriptions, food, books for study. Now I don't even have cash for a meal."
He slowed, clutching his stomach, when suddenly a commotion caught his attention. A crowd had gathered near a grand building, the famous hall where actors celebrated their successes.
Karikalan edged closer. He saw the glittering stars of cinema entering the hall, their fans screaming, rushing forward for autographs. Some fainted in the crush, others pushed desperately against the barricades. Security forces struggled to control the chaos.
From a distance, Karikalan's eyes hardened. "Why do people chase these actors? What have they truly done for society? They live in luxury, bribing money from the poor, while their fans sacrifice everything — even their health, even their families.
Parents ignored, lives neglected… all for a fleeting autograph. The reality of cinema today is harsh, annoying. People move toward false attractiveness, even knowing the truth. What a shame."
His hunger gnawed at him, but his anger burned hotter. In that moment, Karikalan's struggle stood in stark contrast to the glittering illusions of fame. His path was forged in pain and discipline, not applause.
Karikalan's stomach growled again, louder than the rain outside. His body demanded energy, his mind whispered urgency. "Ahh… again I need food. If I don't eat, I'll collapse before the matches. Where will I go?"
A thought struck him. Behind the hall… there must be food. If I can get inside, I'll have no problem.
He scanned the building, eyes sharp with desperation. Then he saw it — a narrow gap above the structure, connected to the dining hall. His lips curled into a faint smirk. "Yeah… I got it. Once I enter, I won't waste a second. I'll eat everything I can."
With quiet determination, he climbed through the gap, slipping into the hall like a shadow.
The sound of laughter and celebration echoed from the dining room. He moved quickly, his body low, his breath steady.
Finally, he found cover — the heavy curtain draped along the dining table. He crouched behind it, hidden from the glittering crowd. The aroma of rich food filled his senses, tormenting his hunger.
Karikalan's eyes narrowed. This was not just about survival. It was about the cruel irony of life — the fighters and the poor starving outside, while the stars feasted within.
Behind the curtain, his fists clenched. His hunger was real, but so was his resolve.
The dining hall glittered with laughter and clinking glasses. Actors feasted as if tasting food for the first time, their joy loud and unrestrained. Plates overflowed, wine poured endlessly — a celebration of success.
But near the window, one actress stood apart. Her eyes drifted to the night sky, skyscrapers glowing, roads alive with rushing vehicles. Her heart whispered: "When will the world change for me? How long must I keep traveling this path? I need some change in my life."
The cool night air brushed against her face. At the same time, it stirred the heavy curtain beside her. Curious, she stepped closer.
Her hand pulled the fabric aside — and there he was. A stranger crouched behind the curtain, devouring food with desperate hunger. His eyes widened, startled, yet his voice was calm. "Hi… how are you? Please, don't tell anyone about this matter, right?"
For a heartbeat, their gazes locked — the suffering actress and the starving fighter. Two souls, both broken in different ways, meeting for the first time.
Then the silence shattered. "Ahhhh!" the actress screamed, her voice piercing the hall. "There's a stranger behind the curtain, eating food!"
The crowd froze. Heads turned. Security forces and bodyguards stormed in. The secretary barked: "Go! Catch him!"
Karikalan's body tensed. He dropped the plate, his instincts taking over. With lightning speed, he bolted from the dining hall, weaving past guards, escaping into the night.
The actress watched him vanish, her scream fading into a whisper of thought: "Every day… I am being cooked by someone else."
Her words hung heavy, a metaphor for her own life — consumed by fame, stripped of freedom, just as Karikalan was consumed by hunger and survival.
The morning sun lit the tournament grounds. At 8:30 a.m., contenders stretched and warmed up, their bodies tense with anticipation. The air buzzed with energy — the first battles were near.
Karikalan walked in, his heart steady but his mind sharp. As he scanned the crowd, he noticed two young men seated on a bench, newspapers spread before them. Curious, he stepped closer.
It was Pragyan and his friend Veera. When they suddenly saw Karikalan looming behind them, their faces drained of color. For a moment, his presence reminded them of Elara's intimidating aura.
"Ahhh!" they screamed, startling the hall.
Karikalan flinched, equally shaken. "Stop, you boys! Why are you screaming like nothing? I am not an evil."
Pragyan stammered, "Sorry… we thought you were Elara."
Karikalan sighed, his voice firm. "Fine. But listen — don't ever do this again. Be cautious next time."
The two apologized quickly, embarrassed. Karikalan's eyes fell on the newspaper. "By the way… what's the highlight of today's news?"
Veera's eyes lit up. "Oh, there's a hot topic roaming around here."
Karikalan leaned in. "What was that?"
Veera grinned. "Yesterday, some strange guy stole food from the dining hall where actors and actresses were celebrating."
Karikalan froze, his stomach twisting. What? He snatched the paper, scanning the lines nervously. His eyes widened as he read the account, unaware that the woman mentioned was the actress he had met.
Meanwhile, Pragyan and Veera whispered between themselves: "What in the world? Someone stealing food from the famous dining hall? What were the security guys doing?" Pragyan muttered.
Veera chuckled. "Well, if I was him, I'd have asked for an autograph instead. That actress looks beautiful compared to the others."
"Yeah, me too," Pragyan agreed, their eyes gleaming with admiration.
Karikalan's hands trembled slightly as he held the paper. His voice was low, uncertain. "What? She's… an actress? And why are people so obsessed with her? I want to know more about her…"
His hunger had led him into a world he didn't understand — a world of fame, illusion, and beauty. And now, destiny was weaving their paths together.
Karikalan's eyes scanned the newspaper line by line, his breath quickening. Then he froze. "What? Her name… is Pooja?"
His heart pounded. This is the same actress I saw yesterday… the one everyone is talking about now, praised for her performance in the latest movie.
He slumped slightly, dimmed by the memory of his desperate act. The image of him crouched behind the curtain, stuffing food into his mouth, replayed in his mind. He muttered under his breath, half in shame, half in disbelief: "Ahh… what have I done? Yesterday I was just a hungry fool, and now she's the star everyone admires."
Pragyan and Veera, oblivious to his turmoil, continued their chatter. "If I was that guy, I'd have asked for her autograph instead of stealing food. She's beautiful compared to the others."
Karikalan's grip tightened on the paper, his thoughts swirling. Why are people so obsessed with her? I need to know more…
Meanwhile, in another corner of the tournament grounds, Elara sat with his own copy of the newspaper. His eyes narrowed as he read the headline. Then, with a snarl, he tore the paper in half.
"It should have been me to get her autograph," he growled. His voice dripped with arrogance and envy. "But who is this strange guy? If he ever falls into my hands, I'll punch him until he regrets ever showing his face."