Kyoujouran Keniwa
Age: 11 years
Eye colour: Blue
Hair colour: Black
Height: 4'3"
Weight: 65 lbs
Birthdate: 08/29
Appearance: Rough skin, short, plenty of scabs
Age: 11 years
Eye colour: Blue
Hair colour: Black
Height: 4'3"
Weight: 65 lbs
Birthdate: 08/29
Appearance: Rough skin, short, plenty of scabs
Jet black bed hair hangs above his chiseled, warm face. With round blue eyes, set well within their sockets, watch affectionately over the town they've looked upon for as long as he can remember.
Several bruises, scratches and scabs, cover his arms and legs. Especially his knees and elbows, these leave many memories of his rough fights with several animals, throughout the woods of Konoha. This is the image of Kyoujouran Keniwa, a genuine kid among many trying to put on a strong face. He stands awkwardly among others, despite his athletic frame for his height. His height compared to his classmates is a bit shorter than average however his naturally spiky hair makes up for it, almost bolstering him higher. However his tenacious spirit shines throughout his face, he almost always has furrowed brows coupled with a large grin throughout good and bad times. Rarely carrying a scornful look. One look at his hands show that they are course and rough, his knuckles are covered in calluses, representing his ironclad personality, these hands were almost forged for combat.
Personality: Naive, hot-headed, carefree, excitable and extroverted, loves sports
Keniwa carries himself with a sort of confidence than many other people do not seem to have, whether it is intentional or not is unknown to many others including himself. Keniwa isn't so aware of right or wrong being able to see basic emotions such as sadness, happiness and anger but his empathy doesn't get much more intricate. An outgoing young boy who doesn't see people for the way they look. There's something enticing about him, perhaps it's his attitude or perhaps it's simply a feeling of arrogance. But nonetheless, people tend to socialize with him, while commending him for his deeds. He always is there to do the rough job, getting rid of a hornet's nest, removing waste out of gutters, nothing is too much for him. His unfaltering personality and will to dominate challenges ahead of him puts him in a rough spot with others around him, whenever he has bit off more than he can chew.
History: A Gauntlet Too Hot to Don.
Keniwa since the very first day he met the world was a force of destruction. Throughout a gut wrenching 12 hour labour, Keniwa would not leave the womb on his own. His father was forced to cut open his mother's stomach and remove the screaming babe. This stormy night ended up with Keniwa's mother's stomach being horribly disfigured. Once seen as a beautiful lady whose hands were as soft as silk, much in contrast to his father's, she is now being hidden away from society, in shame of her figure. Because of this, Kyoujouran Ikari, Keniwa's father, would grow to resent his son. Keniwa grew up in the village hidden in the leaves, much like other young shinobi. However his upbringing was hardly ordinary. Keniwa was forced through grueling and almost sadistic training almost every day by his father. Many of his Kyoujouran cousins that he would meet throughout passings, he would rarely meet again. Whenever asking his father of their whereabouts he would usually mutter, "They fell like the weaklings they were." Keniwa never could figure out what this meant until he eventually saw his uncle in passing carrying a funeral frame of one of his cousins. In fear and shock, the only thing that he could do is train harder. It was a primal feeling. He never wished to die the way they did. So whenever his father would spar with him, he would fight as if his life depended on it, never backing down. And always right as his father left at the end, he would fall and be knocked out cold from exhaustion.
This cycle continued for many years, and as he heard more and more about the deaths of several of his cousins, he made a promise to himself that he wouldn't die. He just couldn't, he needed to live. Something deep inside of him kept him pushing forward. Due to his hardcore training, whenever it was time for him to do backbreaking chores Keniwa would usually complete these with ease. His weekends were spent mostly scurrying around the mansion, which his father earned throughout his respectful career as a shinobi. Keniwa would work hard to get rid of any mold, sweep the floors until he could see his reflection, and make sure everything was up to his father's high standards. Any less would result in strict punishment. The beatings would be almost hammered in to his skull, the pain forcing him to remember any mistakes he previously made. This would take shape in his fighting style. He'd remember how he failed and sharpen his faults to a keen edge in order to create himself in to a gauntlet which no one could bear.
Bloodline: Kyoujouran Main Branch
Summer's heat was extraordinarily more severe for Keniwa in comparison to other kids his age. His father's malice would grow immense as he drank more sake when the days got hotter, even the nights would not let up on their extreme warmth. This led Ikari to attack Keniwa more ruthlessly throughout their sparring, and even when they would not spar he would throw bottles at him and kick him out of the way whenever Keniwa came near. This would grate on Keniwa as all he ever wanted was his father's approval, just once to be shown a morsel of gratitude, for all the pain and suffering he has overcome. Keniwa's mother would always tell him of how Ikari used to be as a young man. She would say "Your father was so admirable, he treated me and everyone else right, a real shinobi and my sweetheart." So Keniwa could only hope to be like him.
One scorching evening Ikari had drunk several large bottles of sake, his cheeks were flushed and his vains looked as if they were about to blow out of his head. During this time Keniwa was talking to his mum about joining the academy at some point, when Ikari stumbled in, barely being able to walk. His eyes glowed red with a sense of bloodlust as he whispered the words. "Koharu..." As he edged closer towards the two of them he began to raise his fist towards Koharu. Ikari could only watch in fear and anticipation of what he was about to behold. As stiff as a stone he couldn't move a muscle paralysed in fear by his father, a few words echoed throughout his head in this moment. "A real shinobi." Keniwa jumped in between his mother and father with his arms crossed diagonally between each other as he readied to block his father's attack. He knew it wouldn't be enough to protect his mother but he had to do something. As his father's fist was about to pulverise Keniwa, Keniwa's skin began to crack and harden with rock like spikes protruding from his arms. His tetsukawa had awoken. His father collided with Keniwa and his fist was pierced and it shed blood. Somewhat in shock that he had actually bled he took a look at Keniwa and his mother before drunkingly stumbling out of the room.
