Byōki no zenchō no ko, child of ill omen

Alias: Byōki no zenchō no ko, child of ill omen
Real name: Tatsuya Yamanaka
AGE: 19

GENDER: Male

VILLAGE: Konohagakure

RANK:Chunin.

NATURE MANIPULATION: Katon

RELATIONS: Takichi Yamanaka (father), Nakotomi Aya (mother), raised by yamanaka grandparents.

HOLDING: [X]

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
Long dark hair tied back in a ponytail, averagely tall for his age, his features cut and slim. His frame is slender, his skin shade is fair from having lived in rainy farmlands for the past year. He is adorned by simple cloths that drape, letting rain roll to the ground. Carrying no bag and only adorned by a sword the hangs across his back with a sturdy strap. A piece of red cloth is tied across his eyes, preventing anyone from gazing into them them. A fainting glimpse would allow you to notice the scar cut across each eye socket vertically falling down onto the top of each cheek.

MENTALITY:
His face portrays a calm peaceful demeanor that facades his true feelings of remorse for his past actions. His mind has become more resolute in the past year, more capable of pushing past his inner turmoil. Yet still he is haunted by his fears and doubt that consumes him sometimes, he presses on though in hopes to mend the pain he had caused to others.
He doesn't currently remember anything from his young life as a shinobi, but maybe in time he will remember.

BIOGRAPHY:
A descendant of the Yamanaka the child grew to make his family and clan proud joining the ranks of the genin at a very young age, but not all stories are picture perfect.

Years passed and the child grew in his understanding and abilities, having proved himself as a genin worth notice he quickly worked toward his goal of becoming a Chunin. We all keep secrets though, everything was not as it seemed the child for many years had been wrecked with horrific nightmares of wars he was never witness to and places he had set no foot. Tossing and turning in his sleep he would wake and not return to sleep, he would leave his room through his window and travel to a place of peace. Somewhere he could be alone with his thoughts, and then it came to him hand seals he had never witnessed but felt like he knew. He practiced them over and over never knowing what they were for, hoping they would lead to answers.

He awoke in a small village in a straw house, no one was there. Bruises on his hands and body, blood covering his cloths. His eyes burned as though coals sat in his eye sockets, he rubbed them and felt blood. Not sure if it was his own or not he tried to find something to wash it off but could see nothing. His vision dark and blurred unable to recognize his surroundings, finally as he shook in pain and anguish the pain dispersed and became a numb tingling through his whole body. No longer crippled by pain he reached around and found a bowl of what seemed to be water, feeling as though he would die without it he drank it down without thought. Then he heard footsteps entering the room, they were light but intended as though someone knew he would not be seen but must announce himself. An old voice cracked with years spoke softly, "young man? Ah, you are awake i had wondered if my ears had deceived me"." I know your probably very confused and this may take some time to explain, so i want you to try to eat some of this soup then listen to my tale" he professed.

The young man was told a tale of how he was found, wondering the nearby farmlands, a strange glow radiating from his eyes. He was told about how the bodies that lay nearby of several men and women who had all seemed to have fought some bloody battle to the death. He stood in the middle of the chaos as though untouched by it, no one paying him any mind. Then the farmers and guards who approached him had something dreadful happen to them as they met his gaze. They were stricken by some sort of madness and started to slaughter one another brother turning on brother, father against son. Luckily their lives were saved from their grisly end when an unknown shinobi appeared and struck the young man across the eyes.

With a sigh and a chuckle the old man finished feeding him the soup. The young man was struck with horror, had he been the one to cause the deaths of all those people and if this story is correct could he control whatever power it was causing this to happen. "I hope you understand now why your eyes are bleeding" he said, "it is really strange, you have been in that bed for three weeks and yet your eyes have not healed". "The glow still happens" he said, "during these weeks for brief moments when you would reach consciousness and try to open your eyes, well" he paused. "Maybe it would be better to speak of this later" and with those words he left the young man to silence. The young man was overwhelmed with waves of emotions and so he laid there, left in silence yet his mind pounding with thought. Was he a monster he questioned, he reached his hand to his eyes and felt the wet bandages.

Weeks passed and as he gained strength enough to walk the old man helped him, step by step like a newborn child taking his first steps. He tried to help in whatever ways he could as he could walk further and further. His mind was relieved from doubt by his actions to help the old man, but his past still haunted him. He would have dreams, people fighting as he stepped past them unnoticed, they were always screaming a look of malice and madness on their faces. He would wake with a scream, sweat covering his skin. Sometimes he would sit there in the middle of the night upon waking from his nightmares and mourn for his actions. He would hope and pray for an end to his suffering, thinking it would pass, but he feared it never would.

The cycle must be broken, the old man thought as he approached the young mans room early one morning. He burst into the room, "young man, young man, wake up" he screamed. The young man woke from the commotion, "today you will run" he announced. The young man sat confused for a moment, then was pushed out of his bed. "Lets go, lets go" the old man laughed as he sat the boy up on his feet, "you will need this" and a weight was hefted into his hands. It wasn't to heavy the young man realized, as his hands felt out the shape he gasped. The old man had handed him a sword, "lets go, go, go" the old man proclaimed, "you will be using that by the days end" the old man said with a smirk on his face.

For months the old man trained him in the way of the sword, how to respect it, how to honor it. The young man was forced to run miles upon miles for meals, put to labor as a ox would be. His strength and agility returned to him but he was none the wiser, never knowing why he was so capable of jumping higher, running faster, enduring longer then other men ever could. He was taught how to work the farmlands for grain and rice, he was taught how to live again. Eventually he was introduced to other people, other farmers and neighbors of the old man who seemed to hold the old man in great respect. The young man realized the old mans home was great in space and had much lands surrounding it because it took at least an hour to travel to these neighbors lands. The old man must be rich he always thought, but some questions never get answered. What the old mans name was or where he was he never knew, who he was or where he was from he also didn't remember. He eventually came to be known as Byōki no zenchō no ko (child of ill omen), which was what the neighbors called him. The old man scoffed at the comments and didn't let people say such things in his presence, even going to such extreme as to hit others with his walking stick and screaming obscenities at those who said it.

In time the young man learned other things to, strange abilities he became witness to in dreams, movements with his hands and words of power bringing unimaginable ability. He could hear things like whispers on the wind, the slightest movement, a twig breaking, the sound of a mouse across a field. Eventually dream became reality and he wasn't sure if he was going mad when he first became witness to an ability he had not prepared for. It happened before but he had never payed any mind to it, he would hear people whispering to themselves. Then even stranger when he would acknowledge what they had said, there would be only silence. The old man would profess he never heard them say anything but would describe the baffled look on the persons face after the young man would comment. Eventually rumors spread around that the young man was invading peoples minds and everyone went nuts until the old man calmed them down. The young man never meant to do it and the old man made it clear that he understood that, "but" exclaimed the old man one night "lets see if we can figure this out so your not doing it by accident anymore". "Who knows maybe you can tell me what the flower lady in town really thinks of me" he said with a giant grin. Over the next few weeks they trained and the old man would express to the young man ideas that would help him learn to develop and harness his interesting abilities. The old man explained to him that he believed him to have been a shinobi of some variety, but from which village he could not be sure. Something the young always wondered but never asked was how the old man knew so much, it was strange really. "Fate" the old man would say, "it was fate for you to come here, life has a weird way of expressing that but it could not have happened any other way". He would always feel better after these long talks with the old man, he was lucky to have been found by this old man he would think. Whether it was fates hand or not he was lucky.

The young man and the old man became dear friends, a year passed, and then eventually one morning the old man asked him about his past, it was really the first time he had ever said anything like it. "Do you wonder who you are?" he asked, "i have thought about it for much time and i think as much as i would let you live here and be as a son to me, i fear your real family might be out there looking for you right now" his sadness was evident in his voice. "They deserve to know, and if the worse should happen and you don't find them you can always come back here" he said.

Later that day the old man took byoki to the place he had found him and left him there for a few hours making sure he knew the way back to his home. Byoki stumbled through the woods for some time until he found something he didn't expect. Hidden under the roots of the tree buried by dirt and moss was a scroll hidden in a sack. The scroll appeared to have been there for sometime and no one had apparently noticed it. byoki sat in the woods reading the scroll and to his amazement the first section of the page was a letter from his mother. The remaining long portion of scroll went into great detail about his mothers lineage. Also something strange and interesting it was some sort of theory of how to perform a genjutsu.

He left the woods going back to the olds mans house and slept through the night.

A few days later with a friendly hug and a parting gift the young man left the old mans home, his only lead was a headband of a shinobi clan he was told dwell in the desert.