500 fights, a young Akira Kurusu decided as his folks lectured him about getting into another fight at school and 'ruining the Kurusu name' as they went home.
He had been picked on for being a crybaby when some older kid stole his money, so he fought back. He learned something during that fight: crybabies don't win fights. If he wanted to win a fight and live the way he wanted to, then he had to be tough.
The big question then was how to become so. After getting treated at the nurse and then dragged to the principal office to be yelled at, he found his answer.
500 fights. After 500 fights, you would be tough, no one would want to mess with you. 500 sounded like a big enough number for that to happen, he thought to himself with the assurance of youth. So he got to work getting to that lofty number.
It took him fight number three (he counted that first one) to realize something: he didn't want to fight because of stupid stuff. He thought that one of his classmates had stolen one of his trading cards and confronted him. When he denied taking it, Akira threw the first punch. His classmate bawled and he tried to defend himself and his actions.
Then he found his card after looking more carefully in his bag. He quietly accepted the yelling and the slaps on the head.
Tough guys didn't need or even want to pick on the weak, Akira decided.
However, this definitely cut down the fights he could get into, when he stopped to realize just how many of them were over stupid reasons. There was also the fact that his town was just small enough that everyone's shortcomings and inadequacies could be circulated through the rumor mill faster than blood through veins. So that nebulous number slowly became even more far off, with Akira going months or even years without a fight.
But then…
"Damn brat, I'll sue!"
It should have been the end of his life. Akira knew how many of his classmates and townsfolk would have reacted to the circumstances. He could already see them crying out, begging anyone to believe them, cursing themselves for sticking their nose in something that they shouldn't have.
All he could think was that he was free, and soon enough, free to dust off that dream of 500 fights when he enters the Metaverse, learns about the multiple problems and people that can now be solved with a solid punch to the jaw, and being able to pat himself and the rest of the Phantom Thieves for making the world a slightly better place.
So he gladly throws himself in, chasing that far off number. And it turns out that you learn a lot on the road to 500 fights.
Some were obvious: don't fight on your opponent's home territory, don't fight angry, don't fight if you got the chance to recover, it is way better to fight with a group.
Some were not so obvious: sometimes it took a lot more strength to stop yourself from attacking, it definitely takes a lot more restraint to not deck an idiot in the real world, presentation of yourself was key when taking on a whole army of people just itching for a reason to shoot you in the head.
But beyond all of that…
"WHO ARE YOU TO REJECT MY REHABILITATION? HUMANITY IS ON THE ROAD TO RUIN AND MUST BE CORRECTED BY MY HAND, AS CHOSEN BY HUMANITY."
Akira looked around, seeing his friends standing tall and ready to face the sanctimonious sentient cup that got too big for its britches. It may be the size of a mountain, its words even now trying to drown out his thoughts, but there was no fear as he raised his knife and gun, an easy smirk on his lips.
You learn a lot on the road to 500 fights, and the most important is eventually…
You stop counting.