Name: Uchiha Seto
Age: 11
Gender: Male
Physical Description:
Seto's body possesses a slim, muscular build. He stands at an above-average height of five foot five ( 165 cm) and weighs one hundred and twenty-six pounds. (57 kg). Seto possesses medium, black hair with choppy bangs that hang over his eyebrows. He also possesses a pair of small earrings in his ears. His eyes are sharp and very expressive, often showing what the boy is feeling faster than his tongue can express it. The color of his eyes stem from his mother's side of the family holding, frigid blue-steel orbs. When around strangers, his lips are often twisted into a permeant scowl, but with friends, it almost seems it's impossible to erase his smile. Scars litter the young boy's body; most notable is the sizable scar of a dog's teeth on his right shoulder at the base of his neck, as if he was bitten by a large beast from behind at some point, leaving the rest as rather forgettable by comparison.
Mental Description:
Seto is foremost a fighter and a punk; he will never take anything passively and isn't afraid to speak up nice and loud when he has a problem with something or someone. He has a spiky attitude, a sharp tongue, and fists he's not afraid to use. While he's quick to put on false bravado, that arrogant little smirk behind his eyes has given away to tell a story of fear and loss. After losing his mother, Seto constantly
Seto doesn't like losing, and if you are better than him in something he cares about, he will find a way to ensure you do not beat him. For instance, there's a rumor circulating in the village that Seto broke a kid's legs to win a foot race, but he clarifies that he might have killed him. When asked why he would give a simple shrug and say, "Because he was going to win."
Seto has a twisted view of humanity, considering most people he meets to be barely human, calling them "hollows." He sees little problem in lying, stealing, attacking from behind, poisoning, and using other underhanded methods against these "hollows'' if it means he gets what he wants. Seto doesn't even spend the brain capacity to remember the names of these hollows, simply referring to them as you or calling them a nickname based on a striking physical characteristic. It's not until a bond forms between him and that specific hollow that Seto begins to view that hollow as an actual person.
Despite all of Seto's flaws and his personality, even on the surface level, Seto is still very loyal to those in his inner circle. He doesn't go around trying to be Superman and protect everyone around him or try to uphold every promise that comes out of his mouth. Still, if Seto knows he has the power to change something or help someone that he cares about, he will do whatever it takes to make his and their reality come true through the power he holds in his body and the determination his mind has. So, if you somehow manage to become one of Seto's friends or family, he'll have your back no matter what happens. He is always there to protect the family.
Seto loves sweets and is disgusted by many fruits and vegetables, often saying that he is a carnivore and that carnivores do not eat grass.
Seto also has a notable fear of dogs, after being bitten and nearly killed by a guard dog after a heist gone wrong.
History:
Before he was Uchiha Seto, he was simply Seto. He had a family name but chose to forget it. It hurt too much not to. A product of a carnal month of passion between his mother, a traveling merchant, and his father, the two went their separate ways after the business had ended, never expecting to meet again. His mother wasn't aware she was with child until the telltale baby bump.
After his birth, Seto lived a simple life with his mother for the next five years in the countryside. Although not the wealthiest, her work allowed them to live comfortably. His mother was a very warm woman, showering the boy with love and affection, constantly referring to him as a gift from the gods.
After his eighth birthday, his mother grew sick, and the boy quickly needed to become a man. The medicine they needed was expensive, and for a time, his mother's savings were able to provide, but eventually, the money ran out. The boy pleaded with the doctors to give his mother time, promising money he didn't have if they just gave them a little more time. During this time, the boy resorted to stealing, but that only did so much. Eventually, the doctors stopped coming. Seto watched helplessly as his mother slowly died, becoming a shell of her former self as the sickness claimed her.
Three days after his mother's death, Seto's hollow expression turned as the door to their shoddy apartment creaked open, and a man stepped in. Seto did nothing to stop him as the man's massive frame lumbered to his mother's side. The two stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity. The silence was broken when the man spoke a few words in a voice too low for his ears to detect before shutting her eyes forever. Seto snapped, and everything turned red. The boy's eyes, they were red a single tome that spun furiously around the pupil. Screaming in fury Seto lurched at the man, but his vision went dark before he could land a hit.
He awoke to the sight of the same man with his legs crossed looking down at him expectedly. Before he could move, he quickly realized he was bound and gagged. The man apologized for his loss, explaining that he was his father. His mother sent him a letter explaining the situation, and he tried to arrive as fast as he could, but his legs couldn't carry him fast enough. His father gave him a choice, he could come with him, or he would allow him to stay here. Seto chose to leave.
The journey back was long but needed; the two grew close, bonding over the loss of the woman they loved. Upon reaching the Uchiha compound, he was received with open arms and joined the branch family.
Since then, his days have been filled with training. It was a daily activity for as long as he could remember. For his true-born cousins, it was several hours of boring drudgery, a mindless repetition of tasks that they never cared for in the first place. For Seto, it was the only time he truly felt alive, allowing the struggles of life to melt away. Each jab of the first and each sweep of the leg brought warmth to his chest as his body was melded into a weapon by the instructor's teaching. The thought of being molded into a warrior, like the shinobi of legend, thrilled him, and his surprising proficiency at it was only icing on the cake. Upon the sun's setting, his muscles ached, and his body sported bruises from head to toe, yet he still came home with a smile. And why wouldn't he? It gave him everything. It made his father smile. It gave him the respect of his clan. And it gave him a purpose. So long that he was useful he had a family.
Bloodline/Core ability: Uchiha
That needed to be better; it wasn't nearly as fast as Father's. Seto's brows knit together in a frown. What was he doing wrong? Was it his footwork? Or perhaps the secret was recreating his fist faster? Regardless the boy was going to stay until he figured it out. A thin layer of sweat clung to his form, shining in the lights of the falling sun.
He punched again, his fist rocketing through the air until it was intercepted by the battered log that stood before him with a loud thud. The corners of the boy's lips twitched in annoyance. Again, he retracted his fist, revealing knuckles caked in blood and sweat, the fruits of his labor. Strike. Block. Strike. Block. Seto felt the rhythm of the assault, his body set in a sway of motion. His hands felt numb, a blessing in disguise, as he felt little pain as his fist hammered against the post again rhythmically. His muscles ached, but he ignored their cries as he fell, kicking out his leg sweepingly. A standard movement used to destabilize opponents, he'd practiced it a hundred times already and would practice a hundred times again.
His shin caught the foot of the post with a thwack! The young Uchiha wasted no time as he sprung upwards, repeatedly shooting his leg at the post-midsection while he dug his left heel, stabling himself as he found his footing, and his barrage continued.
"Lean into the strikes; fix your footing." Came a familiar booming command. Seto winced but did as he was told, digging his sandals deeper into the earth as his body crept forward until his chest hovered over his knee.
"Better," came his father's gruff reply.
With his face painted in focus, the boy continued his attack finishing with a single straight. Huffing, he turned his gaze to his father, wincing slightly at the mask of ice seemingly permanently attached to his father's face. Seto cursed his weakness. He should be used to it by now, yet he couldn't seem to shake his frigid gaze. It was a far cry from the warmth that he was used to. He was prepared to start another kata when he felt something grip the back of his shirt; he turned, his face voicing his confusion. His father ignored it, pulling him along like one would an unruly dog. "You had enough today; fight me." His deep voice boomed behind his scarred maw. His words carried a tone of finality that left little room for argument, but judging by Seto's shit-eating grin. There was none.
The boy stood across from his father, sliding a leg forward and craning his hands out in front of him,
Seto assumed his combat stance. He waited patiently for his old man to do the same, yet he remained still, like a stone gargoyle. Seto swallowed loudly.
"Are we-" Just as the string of words left his lips, his father vanished from view. Seto's eyes blinked wildly, neck swiveling as his onyx orbs scanned for the man he called his father. Above? Below? Behind? Where the hell was this man? Seto appeared confused for a brief moment; it hit him, literally. His father seemed to materialize out of the shadows with his fist reared back.
"Oh crap, "Seto hastily threw his hands to guard, but his father's fist broke through his guard like a battering ram, crashing through the castle guards and sheathing his fist deep in his belly. There was a cough, then defeat.
The older Uchiha watched as his son withdrew, attempting to regain hold of his breathing, the pain clouding his ability to act. Perhaps the old man, for maybe a moment, had considered a brief allowance of pity, but that would have defeated the purpose of training, wouldn't it? Of course, it would.
His father growled, cold and rough. "The first rule of the Way of Assassination."
The master swung his leg. In a desperate attempt, Seto flung his arm around and bashed the side of his shin, its course narrowly missing his temple as it swung over his head with a terrifying SWOOSH! Relief washed over him. Finally, a reprieve, brief, however it may have been. "Wait for your target to let down their guard." He answered between haggard breaths.
Seto glared at his father; the silence was unnerving, and the man just stood there, his frigid black orbs boring into him. What was he thinking? Seto didn't know, and he didn't care to find out. He had an opening and was determined to take advantage of it. The young shinobi lurched forward only to have his opening filled with a fist from his father. At first, he spun, then he collapsed to the ground yet again, a companion Seto found to be a common acquaintance these days.
"The second rule of the Way of Assassination."
"Predict his thoughts and actions," He groaned.
The young man pulled himself to his feet, returning to his stance. He was weak; he knew that. His father dashed forward, closing the distance between them instantly. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the training grounds. A heavy punch sent the boy back, and the two of them disconnected just long enough for Seto's eyes to well up with potential tears. His body was wracked with pain; holding himself up was practically torture. All he wanted to do was fall. It would be so easy. Just drop.
No.
He refused.
Seto gnashed his teeth like an angry beast. The fire in his blood boiled. He refused to be weak. He refused to be a burden. He winced as he remembered that night. The night he failed to be useful, and his mother's lifeless eyes. A flood of anger and self-loathing drowned his senses, and when his eyes opened, they were red.
He will be useful.
His father wasted no time throwing a kick at his son's head; but this time was different. It was like his father was wading through water, allowing for the young Uchiha to predict his movements and narrowly dodge. Seto ducked underneath the blow. "Strike your opponent before they notice you." Seto kicked his leg sweepingly, Just like he had practiced. Slamming into the back of the man's leg. His father grunted in response.
Staying low to the ground, Seto kept in stride, abruptly coming to a stop before him. The halted movement didn't mean that Seto was finished, though. Seto twirled, sending a sharp kick at the underside of his father's chin. This was only the beginning, though, as Seto didn't break stride, and continued with excessive heel kicks into his old man's abdomen, his pattern broken only by a final, hard knee to the forehead. "Way of Assassination rule, number three." The boy finished, with his father on his ass.
He did it, he finally won and his crimson sharingan, spun furiously.
Then it hit him, he just knocked his dad out. Seto blinked, oh shit.
Rushing to his father's side, his frosty orbs softened as his father groaned. "That was quite the attack, Seto." He groaned, grabbing his head. "Caught me off guard; I wasn't expecting you to use your Sharingan, espically since you hadn't used it..." He paused, searching for the right words to say, "Well, in a long time." He finished at last.
Seto blinked, "Long time?" He echoed, but his father ignored him, rubbing his head and pulling himself to his feet. "We can talk over dinner. I'm hungry." He began to walk towards their home when he craned his neck back."And I can't wait to tell the rest of the clan." He added with a smile.
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