Name: Chikamatsu Zuto
Age: 12
Bloodline: Nanjirou
Physical Description: Zuto stands at approximately 4’3’ with a slightly stockier than normal build. His skin colors a strikingly deep tan color that sets him apart from his siblings and cousins, with blond hair starting to grow across his forearms. He tends towards wearing dark colored, worn down overalls with sharpening tools hanging off a belt, and various oils lining the pockets. Dirty, what used to be white, t-shirts, cover his upper body that his other choice of clothing leaves open. The smell of machine oil and lavender follows Zuto naturally, giving off a sickly sweet scent that few can tolerate. On top his head is a greasy mop of blond hair, with bangs that tend to cover his icy blue eyes more oft than not; though he seems rarely bothered by it. Across his back, dutifully hangs a katana that seems to be far beyond his station and appearance; if not also clearly made for an adult. It just barely misses the ground with his small stature but despite his own lack of self care the weapon, sheath and all, is immaculate.
The sword’s tsuka is wrapped in white sand ray skin, then wrapped again with a special blue silk used to make robes of the upper Chikamatsu leadership as the fuchi. The tsuba is golden, in the shape of the Chikamatsu clan flower with silver filigree on each petal. The blade itself is golden in color, a Takahashi steel crafted weapon that has been heat treated and hammered with special oils to grant it the ability to absorb Nature Chakra. When drawn the hamon of the blade sometimes seems to glow a gentle blue color as the sun reflects off it.
Mental Description: Zuto is a black sheep of the Chikamatsu. His studies and understanding of Genjutsu falter far below the common understanding of his peers. The complexities of poisons, plant cellular structure, and the over all appearance of perfection sails right over the boy’s head; and also bit of a loner. His parents were members of the clan that backed Wei and were summarily executed when discovered; Zuto himself was too young to face any punishment. Because of this a deep depression has taken to him and he tends to stay withdrawn from people in general. Not that the Chikamatsu themselves haven’t done everything they can to help him: a home, clothes, food, and free training to help him advance in the Academy. Yet his mind stays dulled to a point of uncaring. The emotional weight of his parent’s betrayal, once he understood it, has haunted his steps since. That is, with one exception: swords, and swordplay. The hum of steel clashing, the song a blade’s edge sings as it cleave the air; the sound of metal scraping against wood as it rests home. All of these things appealed to Zuto from an even younger age, and seem to be the only things that draw him out of his self-drawn cage. With the clan’s special kenjutsu, the boy is slowly crawling out of his self-doubt and back into a social state.
History: Chikamatsu Zuto was born to a unfortunate couple who preferred status and money over values and faith. One of the major backers of the Steward Wei, the youth has seen both sides of the poverty line in whiplash succession. From one of the poorer members of their clan, to the richest, then down to a state-funded middle class. From poor clothing that remained dirty and unwashed, to a year of nothing but new clothes every day, down to having the responsibility of self-care forced on his pre-teen head. The constant regrets of even being born has haunted his mind in the last two years, as the child still finds himself getting glares from not only adults, but also fellow cousins his own age.
Without a single chance to survive beyond the basic human needs, Zuto quickly found himself no longer caring to bathe. To eat. To clean his clothing, his bedding, or do anything to change his way of life. He assumed that from this point on that he would always be viewed a traitor. The studies he was pushed into by the family only seemed to double down on his emotional turmoil as he failed every last lesson. Now mockery for his poor studies followed the youth as he attempted to shuffle on through each day; his want for life waning all the while.
Then, one day a man knocked on his door. He, like most of the higher ups of the clan, was immaculate in comparison to the filthy single-room apartment Zuto was allotted. Yet, the older male seemed to not care as he immediately rolled up his pearl white sleeves, tightened the belt around his robes, and got to work on cleaning the home. When the boy started to protest, the man simply ignored the child. He could only watch in abject horror as someone else was forced to clean up his mess. The rest of the day didn’t get any better. From there he was forced to bathe, preform multiple rituals of hygiene, get a hair cut, bathe again, and then put on clean clothing which felt like broken class to his once dirt-caked skin.
Once he wondered from the bathroom back to the main area, Zuto was greeted with two things: a fresh cooked meal of grilled shrimp and rice, and a sword. While the boy ate, the mysterious man revealed himself to be the boy’s uncle who had previously tried his hardest to convince his sibling to not side with Wei. He had originally only come with the purpose of giving the pre-teen his inheritance, but seeing his nephew’s poor style of living spurred the man to suddenly roll up sleeves and get to work right there.
As much as Zuto needed it, the mysterious uncle could not stay to take care of the boy. He was on a special mission and the only reason he was in the village right now was because he had just found it for report. What he could do was leave the boy a task. He drew the blade from its sheathe, and called out its name: “Marigold.” He gave the child specific instructions on how to care for it, how to sharpen it, and the basics of how to wield it. The memories of kindness from the child’s close relative opened a small crack in his outer shell, and the light of his home shone in to warm him.
While Zuto still struggles with depression and trying to fit in, he has taken some love to kenjutsu, which in turn finally gave his teachers something to work with. Now as he turns twelve, his year of hell over, the pre-teen goes to enter the Academy to sharpen his skills as a swordsman, and become a honorable member of the Chikamatsu despite his shortcomings with the clan.
Age: 12
Bloodline: Nanjirou
Physical Description: Zuto stands at approximately 4’3’ with a slightly stockier than normal build. His skin colors a strikingly deep tan color that sets him apart from his siblings and cousins, with blond hair starting to grow across his forearms. He tends towards wearing dark colored, worn down overalls with sharpening tools hanging off a belt, and various oils lining the pockets. Dirty, what used to be white, t-shirts, cover his upper body that his other choice of clothing leaves open. The smell of machine oil and lavender follows Zuto naturally, giving off a sickly sweet scent that few can tolerate. On top his head is a greasy mop of blond hair, with bangs that tend to cover his icy blue eyes more oft than not; though he seems rarely bothered by it. Across his back, dutifully hangs a katana that seems to be far beyond his station and appearance; if not also clearly made for an adult. It just barely misses the ground with his small stature but despite his own lack of self care the weapon, sheath and all, is immaculate.
The sword’s tsuka is wrapped in white sand ray skin, then wrapped again with a special blue silk used to make robes of the upper Chikamatsu leadership as the fuchi. The tsuba is golden, in the shape of the Chikamatsu clan flower with silver filigree on each petal. The blade itself is golden in color, a Takahashi steel crafted weapon that has been heat treated and hammered with special oils to grant it the ability to absorb Nature Chakra. When drawn the hamon of the blade sometimes seems to glow a gentle blue color as the sun reflects off it.
Mental Description: Zuto is a black sheep of the Chikamatsu. His studies and understanding of Genjutsu falter far below the common understanding of his peers. The complexities of poisons, plant cellular structure, and the over all appearance of perfection sails right over the boy’s head; and also bit of a loner. His parents were members of the clan that backed Wei and were summarily executed when discovered; Zuto himself was too young to face any punishment. Because of this a deep depression has taken to him and he tends to stay withdrawn from people in general. Not that the Chikamatsu themselves haven’t done everything they can to help him: a home, clothes, food, and free training to help him advance in the Academy. Yet his mind stays dulled to a point of uncaring. The emotional weight of his parent’s betrayal, once he understood it, has haunted his steps since. That is, with one exception: swords, and swordplay. The hum of steel clashing, the song a blade’s edge sings as it cleave the air; the sound of metal scraping against wood as it rests home. All of these things appealed to Zuto from an even younger age, and seem to be the only things that draw him out of his self-drawn cage. With the clan’s special kenjutsu, the boy is slowly crawling out of his self-doubt and back into a social state.
History: Chikamatsu Zuto was born to a unfortunate couple who preferred status and money over values and faith. One of the major backers of the Steward Wei, the youth has seen both sides of the poverty line in whiplash succession. From one of the poorer members of their clan, to the richest, then down to a state-funded middle class. From poor clothing that remained dirty and unwashed, to a year of nothing but new clothes every day, down to having the responsibility of self-care forced on his pre-teen head. The constant regrets of even being born has haunted his mind in the last two years, as the child still finds himself getting glares from not only adults, but also fellow cousins his own age.
Without a single chance to survive beyond the basic human needs, Zuto quickly found himself no longer caring to bathe. To eat. To clean his clothing, his bedding, or do anything to change his way of life. He assumed that from this point on that he would always be viewed a traitor. The studies he was pushed into by the family only seemed to double down on his emotional turmoil as he failed every last lesson. Now mockery for his poor studies followed the youth as he attempted to shuffle on through each day; his want for life waning all the while.
Then, one day a man knocked on his door. He, like most of the higher ups of the clan, was immaculate in comparison to the filthy single-room apartment Zuto was allotted. Yet, the older male seemed to not care as he immediately rolled up his pearl white sleeves, tightened the belt around his robes, and got to work on cleaning the home. When the boy started to protest, the man simply ignored the child. He could only watch in abject horror as someone else was forced to clean up his mess. The rest of the day didn’t get any better. From there he was forced to bathe, preform multiple rituals of hygiene, get a hair cut, bathe again, and then put on clean clothing which felt like broken class to his once dirt-caked skin.
Once he wondered from the bathroom back to the main area, Zuto was greeted with two things: a fresh cooked meal of grilled shrimp and rice, and a sword. While the boy ate, the mysterious man revealed himself to be the boy’s uncle who had previously tried his hardest to convince his sibling to not side with Wei. He had originally only come with the purpose of giving the pre-teen his inheritance, but seeing his nephew’s poor style of living spurred the man to suddenly roll up sleeves and get to work right there.
As much as Zuto needed it, the mysterious uncle could not stay to take care of the boy. He was on a special mission and the only reason he was in the village right now was because he had just found it for report. What he could do was leave the boy a task. He drew the blade from its sheathe, and called out its name: “Marigold.” He gave the child specific instructions on how to care for it, how to sharpen it, and the basics of how to wield it. The memories of kindness from the child’s close relative opened a small crack in his outer shell, and the light of his home shone in to warm him.
While Zuto still struggles with depression and trying to fit in, he has taken some love to kenjutsu, which in turn finally gave his teachers something to work with. Now as he turns twelve, his year of hell over, the pre-teen goes to enter the Academy to sharpen his skills as a swordsman, and become a honorable member of the Chikamatsu despite his shortcomings with the clan.
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