Character Name: Uchiha HaruIchi
BL/CA: Uchiha
Custom Class:
IC Rank: Med-Nin
Abilities
----------------------------
0 - Paramedic
1 - Kin
2 - Kin
3 - Kin
4 - Healing Factor
5 Bloody Mess
6 Shattered Reality
7 HYPERACTIVE
8 Bull's Strength
9 Elemental Illusion
10 Human Anatomy
11 Jutsu Mastery
---------------------------------------------------
Character Age: 28
Gender: Male
Sex: Male
Character's Physical Description:
Describe their general appearance. Haruichi is a tall, slender man that stands 6'4. His eyes are a bright red color that turns into a flowing teal around a burning red once his Sharingan is activated. His face is coated by a neck beard hiding slightly behind his long black hair. His nose is round and clean, yet holds a scar right around the bridge area. Another scar he has is over his right eye, though he still has the eye perfectly fine. His body is decently muscular, giving him the trademark six pack of abs and nice muscle all over his body. He tends to wear trench coats and black pants as formal wear, and a simple t-shirt and shorts for everything else.
Character's Mental Description: Haruichi is the type of man who seems to have grown up physically, but not so much in mannerisms. He holds a highly optimistic point of view, and refuses to accept defeat. He is passionate in everything he does and has the energy to back up that claim. He almost never looks tired, always bright and awake at a moments notice. He pushes himself everywhere to become a better person and a better ninja for himself and for everyone around him. The ninja is prone to bursts of his own messed up logic of the world, leading him to train even harder and try and help out his friends.
Character History: Haruichi lived as a devoted child to the Uchiha clan. The vast passion and fire that burned inside him was said to be the flame reborn of the Will of Fire. Though, this nick name he made for himself was not was he was known for. He was known for all of his strange acts as he grew up, being the kid who always saw the brighter side of things even in the tragedy of loved death. He worked throughout the day to finish his lessons in the academy with burning passion, and at night he stayed up late training his body and soul. He was so energetic and happy people at the academy teased him for it, calling him the Bright Daemon after his clan's feared suspect of being daemons. This title only made him happier, for now they at least cared enough about him to give him their own name. He marched forward through rain and hail to do everything he could to prevail!
That was, until the children were no longer content with just insulting and threatening him with violence. He never budged, always smiling, always accepting their torment. He was the easiest target. Stones came each and every day, giving him bruises and agony yet he brushed them off. He simply trained to become stronger, staying up later and later until he fell into exhaustion. He may have been a kid, but he knew deep inside he wanted to be his name sake. He was the Light One, the burning star of passion. The fire burned hot, and it denied him from failing. He would never fail in his dreams, and he wanted to be that single star on top! He didn't care for Kage, but instead for being a great person!
The child during one day began to talk to one of his friends, Katsuo, and a older Chuunin confronted him. He was asked his name, which he happily stated as Haruichi, the Bright Daemon. He wore the title with honor, even if it was meant to be one of shame. The Chuunin promptly began beating on the student for what he thought was a bully to his younger brother. The Chuunin, Ken pounded him pretty bad, nearly knocking him out to the floor in pain. He cried for his parents, but no body came. Katsuo tried, to only get beaten himself up by Ken. This clicked violently within Haruichi's head as a failure. He couldn't be great if the person he was made his friends get hurt. He watched as the fists of the bully got more and more blood out of Katsuo's face. Chakra radiated out of the eyes of the Bright Daemon as he became the Bright Devil.
A tomoe filled each of his eyes, but even with this, it wasn't enough. He was still too weak, and Ken just kicked him in the ribs to make him go unconscious. He awoke with his parents at his bedside, eyeing him with their own Sharingans. He went back to sleep, and would awake another time to train with his eyes instead of just his body.
Time flew by from that time on, his burning passion growing even brighter now that he learned of the value of failure. He began to relish even failing too, to know that he can learn his best there! He kept up with the regular ranks of the academy as he grew older, and almost attempted to join the ANBU. It was a phase of trying to better serve his village and earn him a new understanding, but he knew he would never have the will to actually maliciously attack someone on the whim of the village. He needed some freedom and life so that he could burn ever harder, strengthening himself for whatever he saw coming. He stares ahead into tomorrow, always shining in hopes of that perfect twilight. He would train until he became at peace and reached Teleous!
Though, the devastation that came to his body due to his intense training were hard to put off. His medical bills would skyrocket if he couldn't do it himself! In some form of a desperate attempt of self-medication, he began to teach himself medical ninjutsu. The impressive yet basic techniques sparked his interest once more! Though the ANBU was just a phase of edge on a sea of calm, being a med-nin make complete and total sense for him! This could help him better his spirit and his body as well as being able to save his friends from pain! With new found determination, he studied herbs, the human body, and medical ninjutsu applications to enter into the med-nin field. After the rather rocky transition, he spent five years studying and shadowing a Med-nin, watching the operations with his special eyes to make sure he understood all of it. His sharingans allowed him to mimic the techniques and get a foundation to build off of. By the end of his five years, he donned the white lab coat and his blue bracelet.
Stats:
Agility: 370 / 525
Stamina: 525 / 525
Taijutsu: 525 / 525
Ninjutsu: 385 / 525
Genjutsu: 300 / 525
Chakra Control: 335 / 525
PL: 2440
OOC: A
Weapon: Bandaged Scales
Type: Unarmed
Info: Blue bandages covered in a strange blunt scale-like shell. The scales drip with a cool chemical that relaxes and cools the skin of those it makes contact with.
Ability: May Cause Suppression
Accuracy: -2
Damage: +10%
Augmentations: Bandage Wraps, Chakra Drain, Blood Rack
Current Jutsu with Ranks:
Name of Kinjutsu you own: Hachimon
BL/CA: Uchiha
Custom Class:
Main Branch/ANBU/Med-Nin: Med-NinCustom Class said:
IC Rank: Med-Nin
Abilities
----------------------------
0 - Paramedic
1 - Kin
2 - Kin
3 - Kin
4 - Healing Factor
5 Bloody Mess
6 Shattered Reality
7 HYPERACTIVE
8 Bull's Strength
9 Elemental Illusion
10 Human Anatomy
11 Jutsu Mastery
---------------------------------------------------
Character Age: 28
Gender: Male
Sex: Male
Character's Physical Description:
Character's Mental Description: Haruichi is the type of man who seems to have grown up physically, but not so much in mannerisms. He holds a highly optimistic point of view, and refuses to accept defeat. He is passionate in everything he does and has the energy to back up that claim. He almost never looks tired, always bright and awake at a moments notice. He pushes himself everywhere to become a better person and a better ninja for himself and for everyone around him. The ninja is prone to bursts of his own messed up logic of the world, leading him to train even harder and try and help out his friends.
Character History: Haruichi lived as a devoted child to the Uchiha clan. The vast passion and fire that burned inside him was said to be the flame reborn of the Will of Fire. Though, this nick name he made for himself was not was he was known for. He was known for all of his strange acts as he grew up, being the kid who always saw the brighter side of things even in the tragedy of loved death. He worked throughout the day to finish his lessons in the academy with burning passion, and at night he stayed up late training his body and soul. He was so energetic and happy people at the academy teased him for it, calling him the Bright Daemon after his clan's feared suspect of being daemons. This title only made him happier, for now they at least cared enough about him to give him their own name. He marched forward through rain and hail to do everything he could to prevail!
That was, until the children were no longer content with just insulting and threatening him with violence. He never budged, always smiling, always accepting their torment. He was the easiest target. Stones came each and every day, giving him bruises and agony yet he brushed them off. He simply trained to become stronger, staying up later and later until he fell into exhaustion. He may have been a kid, but he knew deep inside he wanted to be his name sake. He was the Light One, the burning star of passion. The fire burned hot, and it denied him from failing. He would never fail in his dreams, and he wanted to be that single star on top! He didn't care for Kage, but instead for being a great person!
The child during one day began to talk to one of his friends, Katsuo, and a older Chuunin confronted him. He was asked his name, which he happily stated as Haruichi, the Bright Daemon. He wore the title with honor, even if it was meant to be one of shame. The Chuunin promptly began beating on the student for what he thought was a bully to his younger brother. The Chuunin, Ken pounded him pretty bad, nearly knocking him out to the floor in pain. He cried for his parents, but no body came. Katsuo tried, to only get beaten himself up by Ken. This clicked violently within Haruichi's head as a failure. He couldn't be great if the person he was made his friends get hurt. He watched as the fists of the bully got more and more blood out of Katsuo's face. Chakra radiated out of the eyes of the Bright Daemon as he became the Bright Devil.
A tomoe filled each of his eyes, but even with this, it wasn't enough. He was still too weak, and Ken just kicked him in the ribs to make him go unconscious. He awoke with his parents at his bedside, eyeing him with their own Sharingans. He went back to sleep, and would awake another time to train with his eyes instead of just his body.
Time flew by from that time on, his burning passion growing even brighter now that he learned of the value of failure. He began to relish even failing too, to know that he can learn his best there! He kept up with the regular ranks of the academy as he grew older, and almost attempted to join the ANBU. It was a phase of trying to better serve his village and earn him a new understanding, but he knew he would never have the will to actually maliciously attack someone on the whim of the village. He needed some freedom and life so that he could burn ever harder, strengthening himself for whatever he saw coming. He stares ahead into tomorrow, always shining in hopes of that perfect twilight. He would train until he became at peace and reached Teleous!
Though, the devastation that came to his body due to his intense training were hard to put off. His medical bills would skyrocket if he couldn't do it himself! In some form of a desperate attempt of self-medication, he began to teach himself medical ninjutsu. The impressive yet basic techniques sparked his interest once more! Though the ANBU was just a phase of edge on a sea of calm, being a med-nin make complete and total sense for him! This could help him better his spirit and his body as well as being able to save his friends from pain! With new found determination, he studied herbs, the human body, and medical ninjutsu applications to enter into the med-nin field. After the rather rocky transition, he spent five years studying and shadowing a Med-nin, watching the operations with his special eyes to make sure he understood all of it. His sharingans allowed him to mimic the techniques and get a foundation to build off of. By the end of his five years, he donned the white lab coat and his blue bracelet.
Stats:
Agility: 370 / 525
Stamina: 525 / 525
Taijutsu: 525 / 525
Ninjutsu: 385 / 525
Genjutsu: 300 / 525
Chakra Control: 335 / 525
PL: 2440
OOC: A
Weapon: Bandaged Scales
Type: Unarmed
Info: Blue bandages covered in a strange blunt scale-like shell. The scales drip with a cool chemical that relaxes and cools the skin of those it makes contact with.
Ability: May Cause Suppression
Accuracy: -2
Damage: +10%
Augmentations: Bandage Wraps, Chakra Drain, Blood Rack
Current Jutsu with Ranks:
Name of Kinjutsu you own: Hachimon
Burning, that was the one word that could describe Haruichi. His burning passion, his burning love, his burning strength, it all was bright, warm and vast. Through this ocean of strength, he trained to his pinnacle. And through this... he was reborn.
He stared at the ceiling of his room within the academy, trying to get the horrific events out of his head that chased him around like the monsters in the closet. He looked down at his scarred, dripping hands, bandaged up from the wide gashes he got at the hand of the Jashinist his squad was sent to take care of. It was supposed to be a simple B rank mission he told himself, take down the religious fanatic they said, but when it turned out to be a Jashinist? He had desperate attempted to save his squad mate's life from the blade of the monster, but his hands couldn't stop the blade as it sprayed crimson from her throat. His hands burned in agony, and they would remain that way for years, but his eyes held worse pain that echoed the sad past. Tears dripped down his face as whatever semblance of home he had washed away with the salt, and he began to actually look around his environment.
He was in the hospital, staring out over Iwagakure close to midnight. The village just reminded him of the pain of lose he was experiencing, cold, hollow and alone. Three years was it they were together? They had been a team for about three years at least and all of his heart was in it, though that wasn't a surprise. It felt like he had spent a century with his family, but now it was shattered. He looked to his left at the shattered picture someone had brought him. Their faces gave him some warmth in his heart, but it still hung the guilt heavy. He wanted to just lie down there and wallow in this own self-misery, but within him stirred something else, some deep primal understanding. The guilt of his failure made his heart weight a thousand tons more, but it made him hate something with a strength to lift ten thousand tons. This hate was towards himself and his cursed body. He wasn't strong enough, he never was strong enough, and he would never be strong enough. He would always go for the 300%, training with all of his might when others went out to eat or 'live' their lives, but nothing ever mattered in the end. It was this hate that made him get up from his depressed sorrow and stare at the man in the mirror. Ointment and bandages lined the right side of his face, covering his eye scar, as well as a bandage around the bridge of his nose. He felt the area around his nose before accidentally bumping his palm into the wound, wincing as the weak protection creaked a bit. The memory crept back in as he grabbed the scythe with all of his might before it slipped through his grasp, and the monster spun. He aimed to chop his head in two but managed to only slice his nose open. He aimed for a guillotine from the sky to end it all in a moment but got his eye and his heart instead. She never even had a chance to scream with him in the way, doubting that she would ever forgive him for his failures. Red was all she could see before she was destroyed.
He managed to escape the hospital at the twilight hours and head out of the village. He knew his paths well when he had to get away from everyone. He head towards the Petrified Red Woods, taking a small shortcut he knew from an old child who had blown his way there. He landed feeling the agony already, pain numbing his hands from any other sensation. This pain had to be his currency for now, and he was trying to buy his way into Heaven. He adjusted the bandages around his fingers so that he could still move them, but were as tight as a boxer's wrappings so he could train his fists. He had to restart that passion in himself, he had to stop feeling so god damned sorry about himself so that he could move on. He knew it to his fullest extent, but he felt like doing nothing but drop like a sack of potatoes and rot away into putrid nothing. There were hundreds of other ninjas without any guilt weren't they? They could protect the village, they could do anything he could do better, and hell, they wouldn't let their best friend die like he did. Each stab of the knife in his mind slowly tore it away, though what he did not know. Her laugh at his bad jokes echoed through his mind, and that started his frenzy.
He tried to push her out of his head and exercise the pain away to next to no avail at first. If he wasn't a good ninja, then he would just do a thousand jabs! He would do a thousand and five hundred if he had to, no he demanded more inside. His bandaged fists shot one after another in constant rhythm, dancing to their own tune of flesh against stone. One after another they went like clockwork into one of the red wood trees that littered the concrete jungle, echoing thickly through it. The stone coating was so thick and hard that it seemed impossible to break through, let alone dent, but that made it the best punching bag. It was his rock, the boulder he had to rise over, and his punishment in one gray package. His shoulders got into the timing of his hits around the time his hips and legs did to, used to the muscle memory he had felt like he forgotten just a few days ago. At least his body wouldn't forget. He put his entire body into the effort, moaning out his numbers in a somewhat strained tone, "...Five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten..." His hands bled slightly, stained crimson from the pain of having his hands constantly beaten against stone. Whatever held his hand together, be it stitches or herbs hadn't expected him to be working out. They broke and left his hands bloody to wash up later.
The sun had finally begun to rise from its hiding when his training had gotten more extreme and vigorous. Two thousand one handed push ups per hand, and bouncing between at every interval! He stretched down as low as he physically could before pushing upwards and rapidly replacing his hand with the other. He sang out in tune, "One, One! Two, Two! Three, Three!" He had to keep training to burn away the guilt, burn away the sorrow. If he had simply been a better ninja and used his genjutsu... maybe he could have stopped it all from happening. They would never have had to meet him and he could have been a ANBU. He could have just been a longer and let them all live, but he was so selfish he had to take their lives due to their bad luck of being with him. He remembers the purple eyes of the reaper, quickly followed by the polished ruby red of his scythe that hungered for more red. His laughter drowned out the sound of his other squad mate drowning in his own blood. Haruichi's eyes dilated in horror as he remembered this event, before he redoubled his efforts! He remembered the outburst of his sensei and how she unleashed all of her anger. She truly had become a spirit of war to try and stop the murderer, but the reaper knew better. His blood rituals kept her in check and ended her life long before the Jashinist was ready to die. He prayed and thanked his god which gave Haruitchi enough time to escape. All of the stress was having it's way with his brain, and the guilt just kept building up! He had reached close to 1,000 push ups when he realized he had stopped counting a long time ago. He swore and punched the ground with as much might as he could, kicking up pebbles and dust. He looked up to see small indents in the stone he had punched out earlier and knew that he wasn't even close to being done yet.
He refused to double his efforts, so he tripled them! Three thousand kicks! The sun was hot and heavy, it's heat radiating through the trees with the ferocity of a god, but the bandaged man kept it going. His passion for training, for bettering himself, had finally gotten his mind off the guilt for a solid ten minutes. His fists were his guilt, carved into the stone constantly until they didn't matter. His foot flew forward to the side of the tree to rattle it's branches before he twisted his entire body and attacked with that side hand. That was only one on his dreaded list, so another kick and twist slap occurred right after it. His pace was slowing as he got more and more exhausted, the blood loss finally dawning on him. The sun beating down it's oppression wasn't helpful either. He snarled in suffering, but kept up the effort for as long as he could. He savored whatever cold breeze happened to grace his presence, but it would not be enough for him. His efforts were useless like always, and even if it had been twelve hours of training, it would been worth nothing, in the end, wasn't it?
His already slowed pace changed to weakly kicking the log without any fancy hand movement. His fists left stains of blood against the wood, now finally exposed after all of his intense efforts. The bandages were lost some time ago, and the ribbons just littered the floor. The pain was overwhelming, enhanced in their cutting edge by the blistering heat. His tears finally fell again as he screamed out in defeated anguish. It should have been him, oh why wasn't it him?! He could have died for them, he could have just held that monster back with his corpse and they might have had a chance to end him. He dropped to his quivering knees, pounding the tree in grief despair and revelation. His numb palms had no more blood to give, making no more blood stains on the tree. Everything started to feel numb as his overworked body began to sputter out. He went light headed, starring ahead yet absorbed into his light headed feelings. He was trapped in his misery of the present, and it might have only been for a few moments, but he had managed to find something within. The will to restart that spark. His will, his determination, his power... it all blended together. Power shot through his body.
He refused. He would not sleep, and he would not die here! He loved his team, and even if they are now ashes, he will fight for them. Through the tears, he formed a smile. Pain may have shot through his body, but he didn't care anymore. He found some internal bliss, and it made him reach Teleos. Not a strong one, but he had set himself on the path. His spirit and his body grew, twisting together with fate to drive him to higher lengths and higher purpose. He regained it all in that one moment, his will and his passion ignited again. He screamed to the sky as his eyes glowed blood red, his spirit accepting this change. His soul imprinted itself onto his eyes, twisting them into a new form that gave even greater power. He had found his sight, and now it would find his strength.
Haruishi wandered back, powered by his determination. He walked in the front door and was taken with the utmost haste back to his room by worried nurses. He made weak promises to never do it again, which he hoped he would keep. He apologized for every few steps, until he finally collapsed into bed. The nurse who had accompanied him closed the blinds to give him a dark room to sleep in. Haruishi smiled at her kindness, and as he finally relaxed his brain would no longer get stressed out. The strength he had found from sorrow was sealed back up as the Gate of Opening closed itself once more.
He stared at the ceiling of his room within the academy, trying to get the horrific events out of his head that chased him around like the monsters in the closet. He looked down at his scarred, dripping hands, bandaged up from the wide gashes he got at the hand of the Jashinist his squad was sent to take care of. It was supposed to be a simple B rank mission he told himself, take down the religious fanatic they said, but when it turned out to be a Jashinist? He had desperate attempted to save his squad mate's life from the blade of the monster, but his hands couldn't stop the blade as it sprayed crimson from her throat. His hands burned in agony, and they would remain that way for years, but his eyes held worse pain that echoed the sad past. Tears dripped down his face as whatever semblance of home he had washed away with the salt, and he began to actually look around his environment.
He was in the hospital, staring out over Iwagakure close to midnight. The village just reminded him of the pain of lose he was experiencing, cold, hollow and alone. Three years was it they were together? They had been a team for about three years at least and all of his heart was in it, though that wasn't a surprise. It felt like he had spent a century with his family, but now it was shattered. He looked to his left at the shattered picture someone had brought him. Their faces gave him some warmth in his heart, but it still hung the guilt heavy. He wanted to just lie down there and wallow in this own self-misery, but within him stirred something else, some deep primal understanding. The guilt of his failure made his heart weight a thousand tons more, but it made him hate something with a strength to lift ten thousand tons. This hate was towards himself and his cursed body. He wasn't strong enough, he never was strong enough, and he would never be strong enough. He would always go for the 300%, training with all of his might when others went out to eat or 'live' their lives, but nothing ever mattered in the end. It was this hate that made him get up from his depressed sorrow and stare at the man in the mirror. Ointment and bandages lined the right side of his face, covering his eye scar, as well as a bandage around the bridge of his nose. He felt the area around his nose before accidentally bumping his palm into the wound, wincing as the weak protection creaked a bit. The memory crept back in as he grabbed the scythe with all of his might before it slipped through his grasp, and the monster spun. He aimed to chop his head in two but managed to only slice his nose open. He aimed for a guillotine from the sky to end it all in a moment but got his eye and his heart instead. She never even had a chance to scream with him in the way, doubting that she would ever forgive him for his failures. Red was all she could see before she was destroyed.
He managed to escape the hospital at the twilight hours and head out of the village. He knew his paths well when he had to get away from everyone. He head towards the Petrified Red Woods, taking a small shortcut he knew from an old child who had blown his way there. He landed feeling the agony already, pain numbing his hands from any other sensation. This pain had to be his currency for now, and he was trying to buy his way into Heaven. He adjusted the bandages around his fingers so that he could still move them, but were as tight as a boxer's wrappings so he could train his fists. He had to restart that passion in himself, he had to stop feeling so god damned sorry about himself so that he could move on. He knew it to his fullest extent, but he felt like doing nothing but drop like a sack of potatoes and rot away into putrid nothing. There were hundreds of other ninjas without any guilt weren't they? They could protect the village, they could do anything he could do better, and hell, they wouldn't let their best friend die like he did. Each stab of the knife in his mind slowly tore it away, though what he did not know. Her laugh at his bad jokes echoed through his mind, and that started his frenzy.
He tried to push her out of his head and exercise the pain away to next to no avail at first. If he wasn't a good ninja, then he would just do a thousand jabs! He would do a thousand and five hundred if he had to, no he demanded more inside. His bandaged fists shot one after another in constant rhythm, dancing to their own tune of flesh against stone. One after another they went like clockwork into one of the red wood trees that littered the concrete jungle, echoing thickly through it. The stone coating was so thick and hard that it seemed impossible to break through, let alone dent, but that made it the best punching bag. It was his rock, the boulder he had to rise over, and his punishment in one gray package. His shoulders got into the timing of his hits around the time his hips and legs did to, used to the muscle memory he had felt like he forgotten just a few days ago. At least his body wouldn't forget. He put his entire body into the effort, moaning out his numbers in a somewhat strained tone, "...Five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten..." His hands bled slightly, stained crimson from the pain of having his hands constantly beaten against stone. Whatever held his hand together, be it stitches or herbs hadn't expected him to be working out. They broke and left his hands bloody to wash up later.
The sun had finally begun to rise from its hiding when his training had gotten more extreme and vigorous. Two thousand one handed push ups per hand, and bouncing between at every interval! He stretched down as low as he physically could before pushing upwards and rapidly replacing his hand with the other. He sang out in tune, "One, One! Two, Two! Three, Three!" He had to keep training to burn away the guilt, burn away the sorrow. If he had simply been a better ninja and used his genjutsu... maybe he could have stopped it all from happening. They would never have had to meet him and he could have been a ANBU. He could have just been a longer and let them all live, but he was so selfish he had to take their lives due to their bad luck of being with him. He remembers the purple eyes of the reaper, quickly followed by the polished ruby red of his scythe that hungered for more red. His laughter drowned out the sound of his other squad mate drowning in his own blood. Haruichi's eyes dilated in horror as he remembered this event, before he redoubled his efforts! He remembered the outburst of his sensei and how she unleashed all of her anger. She truly had become a spirit of war to try and stop the murderer, but the reaper knew better. His blood rituals kept her in check and ended her life long before the Jashinist was ready to die. He prayed and thanked his god which gave Haruitchi enough time to escape. All of the stress was having it's way with his brain, and the guilt just kept building up! He had reached close to 1,000 push ups when he realized he had stopped counting a long time ago. He swore and punched the ground with as much might as he could, kicking up pebbles and dust. He looked up to see small indents in the stone he had punched out earlier and knew that he wasn't even close to being done yet.
He refused to double his efforts, so he tripled them! Three thousand kicks! The sun was hot and heavy, it's heat radiating through the trees with the ferocity of a god, but the bandaged man kept it going. His passion for training, for bettering himself, had finally gotten his mind off the guilt for a solid ten minutes. His fists were his guilt, carved into the stone constantly until they didn't matter. His foot flew forward to the side of the tree to rattle it's branches before he twisted his entire body and attacked with that side hand. That was only one on his dreaded list, so another kick and twist slap occurred right after it. His pace was slowing as he got more and more exhausted, the blood loss finally dawning on him. The sun beating down it's oppression wasn't helpful either. He snarled in suffering, but kept up the effort for as long as he could. He savored whatever cold breeze happened to grace his presence, but it would not be enough for him. His efforts were useless like always, and even if it had been twelve hours of training, it would been worth nothing, in the end, wasn't it?
His already slowed pace changed to weakly kicking the log without any fancy hand movement. His fists left stains of blood against the wood, now finally exposed after all of his intense efforts. The bandages were lost some time ago, and the ribbons just littered the floor. The pain was overwhelming, enhanced in their cutting edge by the blistering heat. His tears finally fell again as he screamed out in defeated anguish. It should have been him, oh why wasn't it him?! He could have died for them, he could have just held that monster back with his corpse and they might have had a chance to end him. He dropped to his quivering knees, pounding the tree in grief despair and revelation. His numb palms had no more blood to give, making no more blood stains on the tree. Everything started to feel numb as his overworked body began to sputter out. He went light headed, starring ahead yet absorbed into his light headed feelings. He was trapped in his misery of the present, and it might have only been for a few moments, but he had managed to find something within. The will to restart that spark. His will, his determination, his power... it all blended together. Power shot through his body.
He refused. He would not sleep, and he would not die here! He loved his team, and even if they are now ashes, he will fight for them. Through the tears, he formed a smile. Pain may have shot through his body, but he didn't care anymore. He found some internal bliss, and it made him reach Teleos. Not a strong one, but he had set himself on the path. His spirit and his body grew, twisting together with fate to drive him to higher lengths and higher purpose. He regained it all in that one moment, his will and his passion ignited again. He screamed to the sky as his eyes glowed blood red, his spirit accepting this change. His soul imprinted itself onto his eyes, twisting them into a new form that gave even greater power. He had found his sight, and now it would find his strength.
Haruishi wandered back, powered by his determination. He walked in the front door and was taken with the utmost haste back to his room by worried nurses. He made weak promises to never do it again, which he hoped he would keep. He apologized for every few steps, until he finally collapsed into bed. The nurse who had accompanied him closed the blinds to give him a dark room to sleep in. Haruishi smiled at her kindness, and as he finally relaxed his brain would no longer get stressed out. The strength he had found from sorrow was sealed back up as the Gate of Opening closed itself once more.
