Post by Ronin on Jun 8, 2014 6:56:29 GMT -7
 Juro "Ronin" Sasaki they're the prey, and we are the hunters! general info
shinobi info
appearance
personality
biography Juro. What a stupid name for a 10th born son. It was only because I was the tenth born son of my family that they named me that. My parents must have run out of names after having fourteen other children before me. Don't ask me how my mother handled so many children, I wouldn't know. They'd always said that they wanted a large family, and they sure gave themselves one. I guess that was alright for them. My father was an extensively rich man who started his own business when he was eighteen. By the time he started a family at twenty-five, he already owned and ran his own corporation. My father and mother were childhood sweethearts, so everything worked out well for them in the end. My eldest brother is ten years older than I am. He was the first born of my family, but the triplets soon followed a year later. Two boys and a girl born as the second oldest children in the family. Two years later, my mother had a pair of identical twin boys. Just like that, they had six children. My second eldest sister was born a little less than a year later, and a year after that, another set of triplets. A year later they had another set of twins, and a year after that yet another. A year after my elder twin brother and sister were born, I was born. By this time my mother was unable to have any more children. I was born frail and rather weak, hardly able to cry as I took my first few breaths in this world. They medics honestly didn't think that I would live past the first night, but I surprised them. I vexed them when I lived past the first week, and then amazed them when I lived an entire year. I wasn't any stronger than I had been at birth, but I obviously wasn't giving up on life. I was coddled, to say the very least. My siblings were always so careful with me. I was the baby of the family and I was the weakest of them. Born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I was spoiled rotten, though I never asked for anything that I had. It was all given to me whether I wanted it or not. My mother was the only one who didn't coddle me like a baby. She was the one who would sit me down and make me read literature or recite verses. She even taught me a few instruments. I was sickly, yes, but that didn't stop me from being able to live, and my mother wanted to make that point to my father and my siblings. I honestly preferred spending time with my mother. My father was a good man, yes, but he only saw the weak child, not the potential that I had. I can honestly say that by the time I turned seven, I had it in my head that I wanted to become a shinobi. My father forbid it, but it never escaped my mind and it was always a dream of mine. I was still very sickly at that age, but instead of insisting my case to my father, I begged my mother to enroll me. She was a little nervous about going as far as letting me become a shinobi to prove my strength to my family, but she agreed under the pretense that the first time I grew ill, I would have to drop out. My father was furious that my mother went behind his back, but he finally accepted it after a little convincing. No one in my family line, as far back as my father or mother could remember, had been a shinobi, and none of my siblings had taken that route in their lives. My decision wasn't as much to prove myself to my family as it was to prove my worth to myself. I didn't like being coddled. I didn't like being told I couldn't do something just because I had been weak since birth. I wanted to prove to myself that I could be something other than the sick tenth son. By the time I turned eight, I'd been enrolled in the academy and was already training my body and my mind. I wasn't exactly the smartest in my class, and my physical endurance was sub-par, but I was trying. My parents renovated part of our homes back yard to pose as my training ground. I trained myself from dawn until dusk whenever I wasn't in school. Even on school nights I would find myself training, working my hardest to better myself. My mother, happy to see I was working so hard, would sit and watch me every day and every night. At first she'd mother hen me whenever I was even mildly tired out or injured, but I would ignore her and keep going. After the first few months, she'd just watch me silently, as if she were analyzing my every move. My father, on the other hand, refused to have anything to do with my training. He wouldn't watch me, he wouldn't listen to me talk about it or help me study. Hell, I was forbidden from practicing my clone jutsu on my siblings. He wasn't as supportive as he could have been, and he tried to avoid mentioning that his youngest son was training to be a ninja. Even my siblings didn't support me. By the time I turned eleven, I'd graduated the academy and I was put onto a genin team. I was put on a team with another boy and a girl. I think they were an item, but I really didn't care. This was another point in which my mother started to worry about me. I would have to leave on various missions and spend long days out in all types of weather to complete missions for my village. Her main fear was me growing ill amidst all of this. I assured her that I would be alright, and I went about my duties. With every mission, I gave it my all. When I was home, the only one who ever paid any attention to me was my mother. I didn't mind though, my siblings were quite a bit older than me, but it was so much clearer what kind of home they came from. It was obvious that they were the children of rich parents, always worrying about material possessions and which boy or girl they had a crush on or hated. It was rather trivial to me, in all honesty. It's not that I saw myself as being above them, but I saw that I was so different from my family members that it was almost sickening. I had no wish for material things, and I wasn't at all interested in girls. They all just thought that I was weird. My first genin mission outside of the village was memorable. We helped guide an old man back to his little village, and we were back before the week ended. Our second mission wasn't exactly stellar, however. We were ambushed on the road while escorting a client, and my other two genin team mates were killed protecting our charge. Our sensei and I fought them off as best as we could, but the last thing I remember is being beaten to a bloody pulp, a light, and then nothing. The next time I woke up, I was in the hospital and my sensei explained to me what happened after I blacked out. I'd always been good with blades. In fact, I carried two blades with me, hitched to either hip, for the very sake of combat. When one of our attackers started to beat me, I'd been trying my hardest to fight back. He'd knocked both blades from my hands and I couldn't do anything to get him off me. I was slowly starting to lose it, but then I started to see this bright white light. I thought that I was going to die for sure. That's where my memories ended, but my sensei filled everything in. It'd seemed like I'd had a burst of energy. The adrenaline kicked in and I ended up murdering my attacker by grabbing one of the kunai off of his person and slicing his throat. Apparently I passed out just after that and my sensei carried me all the way back to my village. I missed the funeral for my team mates, but I wasn't exactly close to them anyway. I still visit their graves, however. My mother was less than happy with how injured I was. I suffered a broken rib and quite a few bruises, but other than that I was fine and was soon back to my training. I ignored the disapproval in my mothers eyes for those few weeks when I was still in the middle of the healing process, going about my training like I normally would have. I didn't take a mission outside of the village for a few months, but two new genin were added to my team. We worked well together, and I can honestly say that I worked with them long enough to get to know them. I still consider them my friends now even though I'm sure we've all taken different paths in our lives. About a year after the two new genin were added to my team, our sensei entered us into the chuunin exams. I was the only one from my team to make it to the finals, and after much coaxing, my mother encouraged my father and my siblings to come see me in action. Never once had they seen me train or fight, and this would be the first time. I'd gone from being a sickly child who could hardly walk for the longest time, to a strong young man who could tear down the competition without hardly breaking a sweat. When my first match came up, I wiped the floor with him, using my twin blades and the techniques that I'd learned over the last few years. My second match was a little harder, but I ended up beating him too. The third and final match I was in, I lost. However, I still made it to chuunin. I'd also earned a new moniker. Ronin. Apparently my skills were good enough for me to earn some sort of recognition. My family still didn't approve of me being a shinobi, however. To my father I was the failure because I wasn't vying for the family business. In fact, I wanted nothing at all to do with the business. In an enraged fury one night, I denounced my rights to the company and any and all inheritance that I would receive from my fathers passing. I didn't want to become like my siblings, greedy and reliant on money to take them places. My line of work paid just enough for me to get by on my own, and I got to travel all around the lands on missions. I may have been risking my life to see these things, but at least I got to a live a little. My mother was accepting of my choice, and even after I moved out of my family home at the age of 13 and started living in my own tiny apartment, she visited me every day. In fact, I guess you could say that she started living with me. After over twenty years of marriage, my mother had grown tired of the way my father coveted money and his business over his family. She promptly divorced him and she found work doing something that she'd always dreamed of. She became a writer, and a very good one at that. The royalties she earned from her novels paid for our tiny apartment and any money that I brought in from missions was used to make our lives that much better for us. My mother died when I was sixteen. She left me everything that she had, even though it wasn't much. I was sad for a while, but I eventually forced myself to move on. Soon after her death, my father showed up in my apartment with the rest of my family, begging for me to return home. He asked me to give up my life as a shinobi and help take over the family business. He was growing older and he wouldn't be able to do everything himself anymore. As if his nine other sons and five daughters couldn't do enough for him, he'd decided to come into my peaceful home and disturb me. At first I politely explained that I liked my life the way that it was and had no intention of going back to being the spoiled son of a corporation CEO. There was nothing in that life for me that I wanted anything to do with. He didn't accept that answer. It ended with him being beaten pretty badly and my family thrown out of my home. He hasn't bothered me since, thankfully, but any time that I come into contact with him or any of my siblings, I'm put down and scorned by my own kin. Shortly before my seventeenth birthday, I was sent out on a mission with my old squad. Our job was to infiltrate a dungeon and retrieve documents that had been stolen from the village as well as anything else we saw that could be useful to the village. Of course it was a trap. However, it was the perfect time for me to use the same technique I must have used when my first two teammates died. It was a shock to my squad to see the green eyes and witness the reflexes that I'd gained just from my eyes changing color and shape. I'd used the eye technique here and there since I'd first discovered that I'd had it, but this time it seemed like it was stronger. After returning to the village victorious and with a few Kirigakure missing ninja in tow, I observed my own eyes in the mirror. What had been a single circle around the pupil was now two. Curious, I started using it more, working with one of my teammates here and there to test the limits of my abilities. I've been sparing with it however, never using it too much. My thought is that there has to be a risk to using it too much, and until I can find out what that is, I can't use it too much. I've spent the last few years working towards becoming a jounin, honing my skills with my blades, taijutsu, as well as my wind ninjutsu, and in all actuality I became a jounin just recently. Already I've been encouraged to take on a genin team, and it's my first time truly leading a small group. I'm not sure if I'm cut out to be a leader, but I guess we shall see, won't we? | ooc info  ☆ NAME Dee ☆ OTHER CHARACTERS Demiyah Akiyama Ryuunosuke Suoh ☆ FACE CLAIM ATTACK ON TITAN Levi Ackerman, Juro "Ronin" Sasaki THIS CHARACTER BELONGS TO DEE. DO NOT STEAL. |
FuutonMADE BY ★MEULK OF GS & THQ
