[Takao]

TAKAO UCHIMIYA

- Pipe down with the noise, I cannot bear my sorrow -
- I hate who I was, before -

t h e m e

Name: Uchimiya, Takao
Age: 25
Gender: Male
Birthday: Jan 1st, 999
Village: N/A
Clan: N/A
Rank: Chuunin
Position: N/A

Alias(es):

The Ninja With A Hundred Faces [World] | Expired
In his youth, Kataki's reputations exceeded him, and his presence was known even within the shinobi world. While nobody knew of his real face, it was said there was a shinobi who was so talented in deception that he could pose as your own mother and you wouldn't realize until it was too late. Thankfully, the activity of this ninja seems to have declined some several years ago, and for what few kin who worked within the same organization that he did, the story goes that the boy killed himself in a suicide bombing in 1013 to murder their leader. May he and his legacy rest in hell.

Kataki [Organization] | Expired
While Kataki was never given a proper name when he came into the world, when he turned ten years old he decided this name for himself. Among his peers in the organization, it was his name--his true name. Not some disguise, but what the person behind the mask responded to.

No-Face [Kin] | Expired
A cruel alias, given to him by those he considered his family. Never given a proper name by those in the village, and having no immediate family to speak of, this was what most referred to him by. Even when everything else faded away, those who shared his blood still continued to refer to him by this nickname--whether antagonistically, or out of some twisted form of affection, he will never know.

APPEARANCE

Height: 5'6" | 167 cm
Weight: 140 lbs | 63 kg

More striking than anything else of the man's is Takao's blood-red eyes, each with a black mark beneath that stretches down each cheek. These marks cannot be removed, rubbed off, and even if the skin in the area is burned or scarred--it will remain black. Another detail--or, rather, details--that often take immediate notice is how horribly scarred the man is. Throat, chest, even to his fingers--save for most of his face, almost every inch of his body has been sliced, diced, burned, or wounded with varying degrees of severity. While many warriors in the shinobi world have their scars, for a wandering ronin, his seem excessive and extreme.
    Aside from that, Takao has an exceptionally pretty face. There is a ruggedness to his appearance due to his time on the road and from the missions he takes upon himself to complete, but even despite those things, there is a noticeable androgyny about him. He has a short, feminine stature--with small shoulders, a thin neck, and long eyelashes. With his long hair, it is easy to mistake him for a woman--especially from behind.

PERSONALITY

NINDO

"I looked at my situation, I looked within my soul, and I realized, without any reason for it at all, despite everything, I wanted to live."

Upon first acquainting, Takao would seem to most to be a fairly traditional individual. He speaks politely, is well-mannered, and has a soft and gentle voice that is hardly distinguishable at all. He is slow to violence, quick to offer advice, and his patience could rival even the Buddha's. Although he has a humble background, there is something noble about Takao's demeanor--almost as though he were the idealized version of an honorable samurai that is so often told of in children's stories. Not horribly far from the truth, either. Having suffered a tremendous deal in his lifetime, he has assured that his experiences did not harden him into an angry, vengeful, and violent person but instead his suffering has instilled his motivation for compassion further within his spirit.
    If there is one thing to be said about him, it is that above all: Takao has a strong sense of justice. He is willing to go the extra mile to help someone in need and has not shied away from putting himself in harm's way to do so. While he recognizes that the world is composed of countless shades of grey, he always does what he can to leave it lighter than how he had found it.
    All that being said, Takao is hesitant to get his hands dirty. While he is not opposed to defending himself or others during time of turmoil and conflict, it is rare that he ever feels it necessary to incite a killing blow. There are exceptions--albeit rare--but he has otherwise seemingly sworn off taking human lives. If there is something he is notably passionate about--it is life. Living. Not only for himself, but strangers, too. To Takao, nothing is more precious than being alive--and nobody is a truly lost cause. There may be times when individuals who are causing immeasurable harm must be put to a permanent stop, but even they, he believes, have the potential to change their ways if only they chose to turn around. They may never be forgiven for their crimes, but that does not mean they have to continue to inflict suffering upon others.

BIOGRAPHY

The Village

Hundreds of years ago, there was a clan of nomads who traversed the lands of Hi no Kuni. The kin held strongly to tradition from days of yore and they were a peaceful people, albeit superstitious and strict to their ways. It is said that there were two brothers within the clan who were closer than most, but one day one of the brothers had discovered a hidden power that lurked within his soul and his eyes turned a blood red upon its awakening. His name was Nikushimi Uchimiya. He wished to share his gift with the others, but was almost immediately shunned by the other Uchimiya in fear of this new power that he possessed. His "gift" was considered too dangerous, and his existence had become a threat to the balance of life within the community. Much to his dismay, it was decided that his "gift" could not be passed on to further generations for fear of what would become of mankind, and so he was sentenced to be executed.
    It is said that before the man had his head removed from his neck, he set a powerful curse on the people--his brother, his parents, and everyone else within the clan. He declared that even if they killed him, his spirit, his blood, would remain. Forevermore, try as they might to purge the curse from their land or their bloodline, they would find their efforts futile--and that among their people there would always be members who bore a cursed mark who would carry out his will and inevitably bring about the ruin of their ways. That, he swore. He was killed immediately after.
    Terror seized the hearts of the Uchimiya people as his words seemed to come true. From that day onward, children began being born with red eyes and black marks on their cheeks--identical to Nikushimi's. In fear and terror of what would become of them, the clansmen killed the children before the curse could spread. But, alas, it was in vain. Despite their efforts, children continued to be born--even when the Uchimiya people abstained from getting pregnant, children would still turn up unexpectedly.
    With all the deaths, graves were filled in mass--mothers lost their minds, and fathers lost their spirits. A solution had to be made, and for a brief time, the people of the clan allowed children with the cursed marks to live as they tried to figure out a plan. Much to their surprise, when more children were born within the settlement after--they looked normal. Red hair and black eyes--just like everyone else. And so, it was discovered that the curse could not be avoided--there would always be children born with the curse, but so long as there were some who were cursed, there would be births afterward who were not.
    For their lineage to continue, they had to allow the cursed children to live--at least for some time. These "Akuba no Ko", as they were soon called.
    It hardly seemed like a proper solution--the children would grow and eventually bring about the destruction of their people if they were not eliminated, but so long as they exterminated the curse-bearers upon birth no normal children could be born and their people would die out from age. And, so, a system was built in place--whenever a woman in the settlement became with child, she would be kept under watch until she gave birth. If the child was born with the curse, they would be allowed to live for until more children could be produced to upkeep the following generations.
    As years and decades passed, the system was refined until they had come upon a bloody perfection. Every ten years, the cursed children of the village would be rounded up and executed in a traditional ceremony to "purge the village from evil" and ensure they would not be destroyed. More children would be born after the ceremony was held, but it was enough time to fill the settlement's population so that the "pure" bloodline could continue.

There's no real saying how the boy came into the world. Found on the doorstep of a temple on the evening of the new year, covered in blood and bundled in white cloth, was the newborn discovered. Like many of the cursed children before him, the baby was taken into the care of one of the priests, and it was from there that he was clothed, fed, and allowed to live. That year, he was the first cursed child to arrive in the village after the last ceremony of the Akuba no Ko had commenced.

The Genocide

The winds of change started as a gentle breeze. For many years following, the First Akuba no Ko of the generation lived in a similar manner to many of his predecessors. He was allowed to live, but he was scorned by the other villagers. It was made clear to him, as soon as he was old enough to understand language and the words spoken to him, that his time on this earth would be very short, that he should not have been born, that his existence was a threat to the entire village--and he must be sacrificed for its safety.
    No child wishes to be unloved. No child deserves to be damned to such cruel fates. Somehow, even though he had not been taught or shown real kindness, The First had a stirring in his heart--a dream. Yearning. Desire. Wanting, more than anything, to be loved--to be an exception. He did not want to believe that the cruel things the villagers told him were true. He wanted to believe that he was no different than any other child in the village--those with black eyes, instead of red.
    But he could not prove something to hearts that were already made of stone.
    In the village, there was a single woman who was different from the rest--her hair was a pitch black, instead of red. She often told stories to the children of the village, and perhaps it was there that The First initially got his ideas of grandeur. The woman told of noble samurai who saved villages and helped innocent people, who followed an honorable code even when life was difficult. Perhaps it was then, that the child got the idea in his head.
    He wanted to be like that. Not just one of the warriors who guarded the village from foreigners, but the kind of person who protected the weak. Someone who was strong, and noble. Someone who was admired. An honorable samurai. Until that day came, the boy decided, he did not want to be remembered. If he was to die a cursed child, just as all the other children who were born with the cursed mark were, then let him fade away and be forgotten from history.
    But if he could prove them all wrong. If he could be kind, and strong, and honorable--if he could become a noble samurai like in the stories he heard, only then was he deserving of being remembered. Only then would his existence have meant anything. Then, he would have proven that the village was wrong. It was then that the child began to wear a burlap sack over his head to hide his face. The only other children who would speak to him were the other Akuba no Ko of the village--and they began to tauntingly refer to him as "No-Face". He didn't really mind it.
    He was living on borrowed time, however. And, so, as soon as he was able to swing around a stick, he began to train himself. Hitting trees, striking at bamboo, thwacking weeds. In his mind, it was practice. And for all it was, it may as well have been.
    In the village, there was a girl of the curse who was born--she was the last born of the generation, and as misfortune would have it--she had been born to the leaders of the village. Despite being born to a mother and father of prestige within the village, despite having an older sister who had been born "blessed", the cursed daughter was not spared any mercy from the village's traditions. Her name was "Mura". A cruel name--given the nature of her destiny.
    While No-Face did not have any friends within the village, Mura was, perhaps, the only other Akuba no Ko who tolerated his presence. He sometimes found her chained to a stake in the outmost perimeter of the village boundaries, and despite her young and defenseless stature, he often found dead samurai at her feet. No-Face did not alienate her for it. Mura did not like speaking to him, but she didn't kick or hit him, either--so he remained friendly to her whenever their paths met. In his mind, it was almost as though the stories he dreamed of were beginning to come true.
    He was working hard to become a samurai, and the "princess" needed to be shown empathy.
    One day when No-Face was around seven years of age, he saw Mura in the park at night with a teenager--a masked boy who was a known thief and troublemaker of the village. The teenager, Yuuyake--as No-Face eventually learned his name was--had taken pity on the girl and showed her how to fight. How to defend herself. Using knives and kunai that he stole and provided to her, Yuuyake taught her how to fight back. During these times, No-Face listened in and watched from afar--too afraid and shy to draw nearer where he had not been invited, but wanting to learn from the teenager who seemed so much more skilled and experienced than they.
    And, so, when he was seven years old, No-Name began to get "proper" training. As close to it as he would ever get.
    When he was eight years old, some samurai in the village decided to take the boy in a burlap sack--rather forcibly--outside of the village for a "mission" of theirs. They did little to explain what their motivation was, only that they needed someone small and expendable. He did not have guardians to protect or care for him, so No-Face had no option but to do as they commanded.
    Citizens were not permitted to leave the village--just as strangers were not permitted to enter. So, in his naivete, No-Face believed this rare opportunity to leave the village and aid the village warriors was some form of training. As though the samurai were testing him to see if he would make a good warrior like them, should he be allowed to live. No-Face did not think any foul play when they dropped him into a narrow opening of a cave, and demanded he dig around for loot and treasure.
    It was at this time that the masked boy realized he was, in fact, inside a grave. An ancient corpse sitting upright against the wall of the cave, clad in armor and with jewels and heirlooms beside him. No-Face yelled up to the samurai that he did not want to steal, even if the man was dead--but he was laughed at and mocked and threatened to cooperate.
    Not wanting to die before he could realize his dream, No-Face mournfully relented. Grabbing what things he could before climbing back up the rope to escape from the cave's opening. The samurai were waiting for him there, and wasted no time taking the plunder from the boy's hands. However, when one of the samurai touched the katana that No-Face had brought up with him, the man grew weak and collapsed.
    It was a cursed sword, No-Face later discovered. Of all the gold and plunder that he had taken, that sword, alone, was cast to the wayside and discarded. When nobody else was looking, it was that sword that No-Face then took as his own--relocating it and hiding it safely inside the village where nobody would look.
    That sword, he realized, was just like him.
    Cursed. Cast aside. But yet--it was because they were the exact same that he felt so strongly drawn to it. "Yūjin", is what No-Face named the sword. From that day onward, whenever he trained at night when the village slept--he trained with his newest friend. A cursed sword that had the same spirit as he.
    Life continued on, for the young boy. Painfully so, but he tried to keep his head high. Every year that passed, dread loomed further overhead. It was the fall of his ninth year, and he knew that come the day of his birth--the ceremony of the Akuba no Ko would commence.
    And in that time, in all of these years, he had not become an honorable samurai.
    He had not proven a thing.
    Death approached, and No-Face was scared. Ashamed. His life had been worthless, after all. All of those years, those months and days--they were for nothing. He could not change the way of his village, he could not become "good" in the time he was given.
    While he had been stubborn all of his life, and full of determination and zeal to accomplish his dreams, in the late months of the ninth year, he grew somber. Morose.
    Snow fell, on the night that it happened.
    At first, the night was silent. No-Face lay awake during the evening, walking aimlessly through the town with Yūjin in his hand. It was then, that he was approached by a large figure--a man he had never seen, before. A figure unlike anyone he had seen, before.
    A man who wore a dark cloak, and who's face was covered in bandages--only one eye peeking out from the gauze to be seen.
    An offer was made to him--a fate was being presented. He could accompany the man, and flee from the village--where he would be safe, and would be spared from the Ceremony of the Akuba no Ko, which was to be held the next day... or he could stay behind, and be killed with everyone else.
    No-Face didn't understand.
    And he would not understand, for some time further. The other Akuba no Ko of the village accepted the offer. Kiri. Akai. Shikama.
    But No-Face refused.
    There were innocent people in the village. Yuuyake--the thief who had shown Mura and he kindness. Hoshi--the woman who told stories to the children and gave them hope. They were all going to be killed? Why? In that moment, No-Face understood that the man before him was a threat--dangerous. A murderer. A monster. To be able to kill indiscriminately--he had to be.
    While, perhaps his village may have hated him. Perhaps they thought he should die. If his existence meant that everyone was going to suffer--perhaps he should have. But this? He could not find it in his heart to accept it. Everything he dreamed of--everything he believed told him that this was wrong. And, perhaps, if he was going to die--
    --Then he would die fighting evil.
    And so, No-Face drew his sword, and for the first time in his life--he swung to kill.

The Organization

No-Face awoke in a dark room, still alive--still breathing. He had been knocked out, but not killed, despite rejecting the offer that had been presented to him. When he came to, he learned that he was not alone--held captive in some fortified base that he could not escape from. There were locked doors not unlike prison cells, and he did not know how to navigate the labyrinth of a place he had found himself in. There were strange faces, there--men and women he did not recognize. Then, the other children. The Akuba no Ko from his village.
    Kiri. Akai. Shikama.
    Mura, he learned, had been responsible for the demise of their village. Destroyed. Razed to the ground: everyone had been killed. Or, so he was informed. Mura was left to her own devices, but the other children were taken under the wing of "The Hikimodosu", as they called themselves. An organization of dangerous and powerful nukenin. No-Face did not know why they had their sights on the Akuba no Ko, but they were spared--and he was told that's all that mattered.
    He should be grateful, he was told.
    This would be his new home, he was informed.
    "Home". A word he had never heard, before. A word that's meaning did not seem to apply to anything he had experienced, before, and certainly didn't apply to what he endured now. This was not a home, it was a den of murderers and criminals. No-Face wanted no part of it. He did not want to live this way. Being told to study shinobi arts and to kill targets that were assigned to him--it was not what he wanted to do. He did not want to kill. He did not want to lead such a despicable life, causing only pain and suffering to others.
    He would have preferred they let him die with the village.
    He had been too weak to stop the bandaged man, could he really do anything good with such powerless hands?
    Perhaps not.
    Perhaps not, before.
    The other children were welcomed into the forces of the organization, they seemed happy, and No-Face... well... somewhere, deep inside, his spirit stirred once more as his dream was re-realized.
    He was ten years old. He was not a samurai. He was not honorable, his existence was a curse, and he should not be alive. But... if he lived--so long as he lived... he would not die until he had done something meaningful to the world.
    That, he swore. That, he decided.
    And, so... he'd had a "change of heart". He came around, saw the light, and accepted the plight of the Organization. He would train under them, learn their ways, and become one of their own. A member of their family.
    The boy created for himself a mask--something easier to wear than his burlap sack. Some of the other members wore masks like those, too. "Hunter ninja" masks, they were called. "Secret operatives", they were described to him as. And, so, the boy crafted one in that likeness. Just as before, he would not show his face--because he did not believe he had anything worth remembering. But, now, at least, he would look the part.
    "Kataki". That was his name, he decided. While the other Akuba no Ko still referred to him as "No-Face", he began to adopt a new, more appropriate name for the others to call him by.
    With time, Kataki became a talented member of the group.
    His training went well, and he was a quick learner with the dedication and attention of the nukenin who dedicated themselves to assisting the younger members. Kataki picked up manipulation and reconnaissance techniques, and he learned how to use his chakra properly for combat. As the years passed, he became a more trusted member among the organization--relied on to carry out countless missions, gather intel, eliminate targets. He was incredibly talented at disguising himself and slipping behind enemy territory under false pretenses without raising suspicion, even at his young age. And, at the age of twelve, even with only a few techniques under his belt, he was an exceptional member of their group. He may not have been overwhelmingly powerful, but his tact was unparalleled.
    Whatever it was he was asked, Kataki obeyed every command.
    No matter how difficult.
    No matter how violent.
    No matter how injured he got in the process.
    As he earned the trust of the nukenin in the organization, however, Kataki learned of what their true goals and ambitions were. The world was ugly, they said. That, he knew to be true. The world was full of evil--malice and needless violence. Yes, he understood that, too.
    And so they would restore the world anew.
    Destroy it all, and let it be reborn. What they had done to his native village--that was only a fraction of what they intended for the world. If they were able to kidnap the jinchūriki that resided within the Hidden Shinobi Villages, and extract the bijū from within them, they believed that they could build a weapon powerful enough to truly, perfectly purge the world from "all evil".
    "Anyone who they didn't agree with", more like.
    The plan was ludicrous.
    But they were dead set on it. For years, they had slowly been setting the wheels into motion, hoping to achieve their plan after setting up every necessary step.
    Kataki didn't know when they would begin taking direct action. Perhaps it would be next year, perhaps another two decades. He didn't know, and that worried him. Did anybody from the outside world know of this organization? Did the shinobi villages know of their plans? Would anybody stop them?
    ...Could anybody?
    Each of the nukenin were strong and powerful in their own right--Kataki had seen how even one of their men could take out several skilled shinobi. He wouldn't be able to out-match any of them in their talents or special abilities, and did anybody else know to try?
    The Shinobi World didn't know of their hidden location. They didn't know what the Organization was plotting.
    Would they be able to stop them if they didn't know it was coming?
    The prospect horrified him. And, more certain than ever... Kataki knew what he must do.
     

Freedom At Last

For years, now, Kataki's hands had been stained with blood. And, when he was fourteen years old, two paths had presented themselves before him. Just like it had been, four years ago... he could go along with the Organization, and live...
    Or he could stand against them, and die.
    But there remained one difference, something significant that had not been true when he was a mere child in the village, playing pretend and swinging around his sword at bamboo trees.
    Kataki was dangerous.
    Determination had always ran through his veins, but he considered himself a man, now. He was no longer a helpless child who could not to anything to spare the people around him, who's fate was determined by those who were stronger than he was. Perhaps, alone, he could not overpower the members of his organization.
    But he knew things, now, that no outsider did.
    He knew their weaknesses. That, at the very least, he had to his advantage.
    For years, he had been among their ranks. For years, he had been gaining their trust. And, for years, he had endured. For years, he had waited for the perfect moment to strike.
    And, when it presented itself to him, he did not hesitate.
    Fourteen years old and finally, his life will have meant something. Fourteen years old, and finally--his existence could be justified. Even if nobody else knew, even if nobody else saw. Even if he never had a name that would go down in history... Kataki finally removed his mask. Finally, for the first time--he was content to die. Finally, for the first time in his lifetime, he had found the cause to die for.
    Collecting enough bombs to detonate their entire base which was hidden within a mountain--which would collapse within itself from the explosion and bury everyone within it dead or alive. Kataki hid hundreds of powerful paper bombs on his body, hidden beneath the baggy fabric of his kimono. The encounter with the Organization Leader was tense, but before the man knew or understood what his adopted son was about to do--it was too late.
    Kataki detonated the bombs.

Hours before he decided upon executing his plan, Kataki had been met with a dilemma. While it was true, that his entire life he had known nothing but pain and suffering... while it was true, that he had taken more lives than he could count and did not deserve to live for his crimes... while it was true that he should never have made it to ten years of age, and perhaps never have been born at all... Kataki realized something in himself.
    He wasn't afraid to die. His entire life had been leading up to this moment. And yet... despite it all...
    He wanted to live.
    He couldn't explain why. Perhaps it was the lifetime of anguish screaming out to not have been in vain, perhaps it was selfishness seizing his consciousness. He couldn't put a reason to it--but despite everything he had done, and everything he believed he deserved... he didn't want to die that night.
    And, so, whereas he had intended to detonate all of the bombs, himself, by strapping them to his body and committing a suicide bombing to wipe out the organization's leader and as many of its members as he could...
    On a whim, really, he decided to have a clone execute his mission, instead.
    And, so, miles away, when the bombs exploded and a mountain fell on top of all the criminals and nukenin who were hiding within it, Kataki lay in an open field.
    Free, for the first time in his life.
    And, for the first time in his life, he felt at peace.
    Until a young girl tried plunging a katana into his throat.  

Path Of Redemption

Kataki's hands met reflexively with the blade, stopping them in their track before the weapon could slash his throat open. "Well, don't let it be said that I didn't try to kill you, you dangerous criminal," the girl said in a light tone of voice before withdrawing her weapon to sheathe it. "You're injured."
    "I'm not interested in being killed right now, try again tomorrow," Kataki replied in a blasé tone. Perhaps then, he would rethink the whole "living" thing when his conscious settled back in. Though, it would never happen.
    The girl was a shinobi-in-training from a nearby village, visiting the countryside with her teachers when she happened across Kataki's lying form in the grass. While he hardly remembered the girl from a brief encounter in the past, she insisted that she help patch up his wounds.
    And Kataki was at a loss for words.
    His entire life, he'd always taken care of himself. Patching up his injuries whenever he had them, and learning how to use the skill to aid his allies. The girl looked to be younger than him--did she not know who he was? He didn't need her help--he was fine. And yet...
    She insisted.
    And, so... hesitantly, uncertainly... Kataki followed the girl's instructions and allowed her to help him heal his wounds using more traditional methods. A medical kit with salve, and bandages around his face to soak up the blood from the gashes over his left eye. Mostly... he was silent. Dumbfounded. At a loss for words.
    Who was she? And why was she helping him?
    Did she not know who he was?
    What kinds of things he had done?
    But... she didn't care. Apparently, some time ago, he had met her briefly in passing while fulfilling a mission given to him by his superiors. She insisted that he'd saved her life.
    Absent-mindedly, he insisted. It had not been some great scheme to do her some service, merely an unexpected cause-and-effect. If he had not been sent to kill her, then there was no reason for her to die in his presence--that did not make him a person worth saving.
    Though, the girl disagreed. From her viewpoint, she was not somebody who deserved to live--and every part of her had craved death. Her only hope was that if she died, she could die doing something good for her village so that she may be buried next to her deceased younger brother. And, even if it had been absent-mindedly, and without any great thought... whether he'd intended it or not, he'd saved her life.
    If he had seen her as something worth saving, despite all that she was not...
    Then she could see him as something worth saving, despite all that he was.
    Quickly, the two became close. They shared hours and days together, sharing their stories and learning more about one-another. Their tragedy, their ambitions... Despite how they had come from very different worlds, the familiarity and budding bond between them was starting to grow. He hated shinobi after all that he had suffered, and wanted nothing more than to become a samurai--and yet this young ninja-in-training had somehow captured his heart. Showing him a kindness that he had never experienced, before.
    And he... didn't know what to make of it. He didn't know what to do with his feelings, but he knew, somehow... despite how their circumstances would keep them apart--this girl... Mika, as she liked to be called, was someone he wanted to hold onto tightly.
    He'd never before had someone who he was afraid to lose. And yet, somehow, she had become someone special to him.
    Mika inspired him. Showing him that... even if he had done horrible things in the past... he could turn around and take his life in his hands, now. He was free to do as he pleased, now. Perhaps he could not bring back the lives he had taken... but he could move forward and do good, now.
    "'Kataki' isn't a very fitting name for a ronin," Mika said. "I think 'Takao' suits you, better."
    And... so, 'Takao', it was--from that day forth.
    While he could not ask her to betray her village and join him on his new journey... he could also not bear the idea of subjecting himself to a shinobi's life once more, either. So... the two would write. Often, they shared correspondence.
    Mika would write to him, telling him about her training, or simply how her day went. In return, Takao shared what places he was visiting, or what things he did. On occasion, when he was able to help people--he told her about that, too. Not proud of himself, but...
    Healing.
    Twice every year in the Shinobi World there was an event hosted in a different country where ninja from all over the world came together to participate in tests to prove their worth and hope to proceed to the next rank in the system. During these events, Takao made sure to visit--and there, he would meet up with Mika once more in person. Twice a year, he could see her.
    But he was nothing if not patient, and to him, she was always worth the wait.
    When he was sixteen, Takao came across a wounded bird that had been ensnared in a trap. Taking pity on the thing, the young man used his healing abilities to mend the bird's wounds, and continued to nurse it to health until it was able to fly freely again. Having bonded to its savior, the bird continued to linger nearby as Takao traveled--whether to gain protection, or to assist the ronin, Takao didn't know.
    But the road was often lonely, and he didn't mind the company--even if it was by a bird.
    The young man came across many kinds of people during his travels, often their encounters fleeting. To him, it was a strange and new experience--as though he were taking his first steps, his first breaths, his first memories. While his past still haunted him, the world looked so different than it used to, almost as if he were being born anew.
    And, while he continued to cling to the childhood dream that he'd had, and began to take his first real steps toward leading that idealized life... he often found himself questioning himself entirely. He could continue to live, he could continue to try making amendments for his past sins, but other than to do what he could to help others... Takao was no longer certain what he wanted in life.
    Did he want to travel? Did he want to stay in one place? There was so much of the world to see, but security in familiarity. Should he only help people through what small efforts he could whenever opportunities arose, or should he try to find some greater goal to achieve? One day, would he settle down and live a quiet life? Or would he always be fighting? Were some efforts of redemption more meaningful than others? He wasn't sure. He didn't know.
    And, perhaps he didn't need to know.
    During those years, the girl who he had grown fond of, Mika, remained as his anchor as he followed blindly after his intuition. Unsure of where he was going, his path always seemed to lead back to her. Even as the months and years changed her, the bond between them was unshakable. He always worried, that some day she would go missing--disappearing quietly and meeting an untimely death where he couldn't do anything to help her, but her letters never stopped arriving, and Takao was always able to find her during the Exams. So long as she continued to write back, he had hope.
    Hope that she, too, would continue to live. Hope that, perhaps, one day, maybe she would even want to.
    When Takao was nineteen, however, his life took an unexpected turn. That year at the Chūnin Exams in Akuram of Kaze no Kuni, Mika applied for the tests and--unlike previous years where she had entered merely as training exercises, this time around she committed to all of the examinations and passed with flying colors. Of course, Takao was hardly surprised that she did well when she'd actually applied herself--he knew the makings of a talented shinobi when he saw one. But what he hadn't expected was what she told him afterward.
    A jinchūriki.
    Time had changed her, and while he believed there was a sort of irony in her becoming her village's weapon in the manner that she had, while maintaining such a close tie with him... what had been most important to him, what she later expressed to him--was that, contrary to her prior beliefs and understanding... her village leader permitted her to live a normal life.
    As a jinchūriki, she had more protections in place than she'd had, prior.
    As a jinchūriki, she could not needlessly throw her life away whenever the opportunity arose.
    As a jinchūriki, she could still have friends, family, and loved ones.
    After she had passed the exams, she explained... she felt... safer. Safe enough, that she no longer felt the need to have a wall between them. She was no longer as afraid of hurting him--and that, in truth, she'd had feelings for him ever since they'd first met.
    It was... something he'd never expected to hear. And, yet, it was better than anything he could have hoped for. Years of companionship, years of understanding, years of friendship, all of his fears seemed to wash away in that instance. He was content to hold her for the brief moments they'd shared in the year, but to have actual devotion--to openly declare and swear themselves to one-another, to not be afraid of love.
    Love--something neither of them had ever known, before.
    Takao was overjoyed.
    That evening, the two declared themselves husband and wife. Perhaps an unofficial ceremony, considering the circumstances of the two teenagers, but true in their hearts and mind. And, in that brief, fleeting moment of bliss, Takao had hope.
    Hope that things would be okay.
    Hope that Mika would be safe.
    Hope that they could find happiness.
    It seemed short-lived, however. In the following months, Mika grew more distant. Her letters became more sparse, the secret codes she hid within her words more alarming. It was around a year later, however, when his life once more took a turn for the worse.
    A final letter from his lover, telling him that she would not be communicating with him again. Imploring him not to seek her out--warning that it wasn't safe. She was alive, she explained, and she would find him when it was safe again. Until then, she begged, forgive her.
    If he'd known her poorly, it wouldn't have made sense.
    But, unfortunately, it seemed whatever shadows had once possessed her mind returned in full fervor. Whatever she knew... 
    He wanted to go to her. He wanted to ask what was wrong. He wanted--
    To help.
    Whatever had her so frightened, whatever had crushed her so--
    But then, he would be betraying her trust. He would be doing the very thing she begged him not to. And, as much as it hurt, as much as he did not want to...
    He refrained.
    Waiting. Patiently.
    Years passed, and he did not hear from her. He wondered, at times, if she had died. Her silence was a unique kind of torment--somehow worse than any physical pain he'd endured, before. The ronin would listen to conversations in passing, hoping to overhear a mention of his wife. But, alas, she was secluded and secretive even among her native state. Nobody spoke openly of jinchūriki. Nobody knew of an Amegakure shinobi named "Mika". 
    So, he could only continue to wait.
    Until, finally, one fateful day while he was staying at a rural town in the countryside, he noticed a familiar presence in the distance. It was not his life partner--but a direct tie to her, nonetheless. 
    The two who had taken Mika under their wing: Yuuyake and Azami. Her teachers, and for a while, her guardians.
    And, much to his bewilderment, with them was a young child.
    From that day onward, Takao continued to travel, now looking after his son, Botan, who he had not known existed until that fateful day.
    
    

COMBAT INFORMATION

NATURAL CHAKRA: Fuuton
CHAKRA AFFINITIES: Fuuton, Katon
PRIMARY SPECIALIZATION: Medical Ninjutsu
SECONDARY SPECIALIZATION: Bukijutsu
SUMMONING CONTRACT & FAMILIAR: Birb

INVENTORY

• 01 | Medical Kit

FIGHTING STYLE

Fighting description here.

JUTSU

S-RANKS

◦ Jutsu Here

A-RANKS

◦ Jutsu Here

B-RANKS

◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here

C-RANKS

◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here

D-RANKS

◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here
◦ Jutsu Here

E-RANKS

Henge no Jutsu [Transformation Technique]
Bunshin no Jutsu [Clone Technique]
Kawarimi no Jutsu [Substitution Technique]
Kakuremino no Jutsu [Cloak of Invisibility Technique]
Nawanuke no Jutsu [Rope Escape Technique]

SPECIAL ABILITIES

『Manipulative』

Durable

『One-Hand Seals』

Durable

『Sensor Shinobi』

Durable

OOC INFORMATION

CHAT NAME: Mika
LOCKER COMBO: 25 - OO - 65
FACE CLAIM SERIES: Original Art
FACE CLAIM NAME: Kouichi

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