Name: Haku Kyou
Age: 12
Gender: Male
Sex: Male
General Description:
At his younger years, Kyuo could have been described as the perfect embodiment of his recently discovered heritage. He was a gentle soul, offering his help to anyone and everyone who needed it. Be it an old lady needing help with an errand or a bully harassing a friend, the boy was more than eager to put himself forward. As time passed though and his parents' obvious grooming towards making him a Shinobi became apparent, he began to isolate himself from his peers. He became much more suspicious and guarded around others. After all, of he couldn't trust his parents to support him, how could he trust others? Still, the boy could never fight the urge to help others, keeping conversations brief before finding some small alley to slip away in.
Appearance wise, he mirrored his heritage even more. His black hair was well kept for someone who trained everyday. He had been forced to keep it short, favouring a simple layered cut style so that he could at least look presentable despite his training regime. His eyes were a perfect maroon, a constant, sometimes annoying source of admiration from older women who met him. His pale skin didn't need to be managed to look smooth and perfected, save a small scar just below his left eye, a gift from his father. Overall, people tended to call the boy 'Graceful yet striking' which he seemed to agree with.
History:
Kyou really couldn't say he'd had an especially interesting life until he was enrolled into the ninja academy. His family was a rather poor, working class one. As soon as he could, he was helping his mother and father run their small weapons shop. His father, a retired chunin turned blacksmith, was hardly going to let him work at the forge with him so he was mostly assisting his mother at the storefront. There, he became fascinated with the world of Shinobi. He was young, hardly an expert on the things he was working on but between the occasional sparring with his father and his first hand experience with handling a variety of weapons, he at least knew how to handle his blunt kunai properly.
His parents seemed adamant they teach him on the art of combat though. Sure, the boy was fascinated when an actual ninja decided to come to their store for some cheap wares but he wasn't nearly as obsessed as his parents seemed to believe. Still, he was all but dragged to spar with his father everyday. Eventually, their brief sessions turned into hour long training and by the time he turned eleven, his father was acting more like a teacher than a parent. His mother just seemed to accept this, as if it was all discussed and agreed upon.
The boy was not stupid, this wasn't how the other eager kids were being prepared for the academy. Everyday he was being drilled on taijutsu or kinjutsu while the other kids were still as innocent as cheerful as ever. He hadn't even asked for this. Sure, being a shinobi sounded cool but Kyoto had considered being a blacksmith or a tailor as options as well. Why were his parents so focused on getting him to become a Shinobi?
He would get his answer a month or so after his twelfth birthday. His father didn't even assume a combat stance like usual. Strange, Kyou had expected the agile man to dance around him and surgically tear his pathetic defenses apart as soon as the boy arrived. Instead, he got a lecture on the nature of chakra. It was rushed, poorly explained and before he knew it, the boy was having his hand extended to a nearby tree. Just as his father told him to, he focused on the energy coursing within and almost reluctantly, he pushed. His hand felt like it had been through thirty days of winter all at once and when he opened his eyes, he found Ice. It was coating his hand....no one said anything about Ice.
His father seemed overjoyed, crying out about a 'True Haku' before dragging the confused boy back into the house.
His mother woke him up the next day, holding a suspiciously shinobi-like outfit for him. That was when he found out he was to be attending the villages shinobi academy...without even being consulted on the matter. He was scared. Sure, physically he was prepared but mentally? He'd heard far too many stories from the family store's customers to be ready. Still, he was pushed into the academy, clutching his blunt kunai as it was a life line. Just what life had his parents forced him into?
Age: 12
Gender: Male
Sex: Male
General Description:
At his younger years, Kyuo could have been described as the perfect embodiment of his recently discovered heritage. He was a gentle soul, offering his help to anyone and everyone who needed it. Be it an old lady needing help with an errand or a bully harassing a friend, the boy was more than eager to put himself forward. As time passed though and his parents' obvious grooming towards making him a Shinobi became apparent, he began to isolate himself from his peers. He became much more suspicious and guarded around others. After all, of he couldn't trust his parents to support him, how could he trust others? Still, the boy could never fight the urge to help others, keeping conversations brief before finding some small alley to slip away in.
Appearance wise, he mirrored his heritage even more. His black hair was well kept for someone who trained everyday. He had been forced to keep it short, favouring a simple layered cut style so that he could at least look presentable despite his training regime. His eyes were a perfect maroon, a constant, sometimes annoying source of admiration from older women who met him. His pale skin didn't need to be managed to look smooth and perfected, save a small scar just below his left eye, a gift from his father. Overall, people tended to call the boy 'Graceful yet striking' which he seemed to agree with.
History:
Kyou really couldn't say he'd had an especially interesting life until he was enrolled into the ninja academy. His family was a rather poor, working class one. As soon as he could, he was helping his mother and father run their small weapons shop. His father, a retired chunin turned blacksmith, was hardly going to let him work at the forge with him so he was mostly assisting his mother at the storefront. There, he became fascinated with the world of Shinobi. He was young, hardly an expert on the things he was working on but between the occasional sparring with his father and his first hand experience with handling a variety of weapons, he at least knew how to handle his blunt kunai properly.
His parents seemed adamant they teach him on the art of combat though. Sure, the boy was fascinated when an actual ninja decided to come to their store for some cheap wares but he wasn't nearly as obsessed as his parents seemed to believe. Still, he was all but dragged to spar with his father everyday. Eventually, their brief sessions turned into hour long training and by the time he turned eleven, his father was acting more like a teacher than a parent. His mother just seemed to accept this, as if it was all discussed and agreed upon.
The boy was not stupid, this wasn't how the other eager kids were being prepared for the academy. Everyday he was being drilled on taijutsu or kinjutsu while the other kids were still as innocent as cheerful as ever. He hadn't even asked for this. Sure, being a shinobi sounded cool but Kyoto had considered being a blacksmith or a tailor as options as well. Why were his parents so focused on getting him to become a Shinobi?
He would get his answer a month or so after his twelfth birthday. His father didn't even assume a combat stance like usual. Strange, Kyou had expected the agile man to dance around him and surgically tear his pathetic defenses apart as soon as the boy arrived. Instead, he got a lecture on the nature of chakra. It was rushed, poorly explained and before he knew it, the boy was having his hand extended to a nearby tree. Just as his father told him to, he focused on the energy coursing within and almost reluctantly, he pushed. His hand felt like it had been through thirty days of winter all at once and when he opened his eyes, he found Ice. It was coating his hand....no one said anything about Ice.
His father seemed overjoyed, crying out about a 'True Haku' before dragging the confused boy back into the house.
His mother woke him up the next day, holding a suspiciously shinobi-like outfit for him. That was when he found out he was to be attending the villages shinobi academy...without even being consulted on the matter. He was scared. Sure, physically he was prepared but mentally? He'd heard far too many stories from the family store's customers to be ready. Still, he was pushed into the academy, clutching his blunt kunai as it was a life line. Just what life had his parents forced him into?
