Young Boy Current Status Ghost
Race Shinigami
Birthday December 13 663 (Spirit Age of 0, just recently died.)
Gender Male
Height 119cm cm (feet)
Weight 44lbs(20kg)
Professional Status
Affiliation None
Previous Affiliation None
Occupation None
Previous Occupation None
Team None
Partner None
Previous Partner None
Base of Operations Seireitei, Soul Society
Personal Status
Relatives Unknown
Education Shin'o Academy
Shikai <TBA>
Bankai <TBA>

TBA (Kanji, TBA)<None yet.>



Ragged clothes resembling those of someone of a higher status, a bright, red kimono that has become ragged and torn, hazel-brown hair that grows wildly and black eyes. Judging by his appearance, he could be the son of a daimyô. His physical appearance is that of a young boy, but a lot thinner and scrawny.





Even if he doesn't remember his past and the recent events, one whom would've known the boy probably wouldn't even recognize who he is right now. He is always scared and will almost never open up to anyone unless they've earned their trust. He is also EXTREMELY fond of food, considering he knows how it is to go on for days without having eaten anything, so one can easily earn his trust that way, as he is somewhat naivé. But he can also be agressive when someone approaches him when he is eating. He is like a wild dog, simply put.



Fools of War

The wind was blowing, the trees dying and the clouds gathering. It was autumn. The civil war that had been going on for so long was coming to a close. The final battle was taking place in the barren plains, the only place where the grass hadn't succumbed to the season. As if it was waiting. Waiting for the humans to spill blood.

As the two armies faced eachother at the barren plains, the clouds went dark and lightning could be heard in the distance. As if the lightning was signalling the beginning of the battle, the two armies charged at eachother, the sound of human throats screaming echoed across the plains.

The battle had begun. Armies wielding swords, axes and scythes clashed against eachother, charging relentlessly into the frontlines. As soon as the armies clashed, the sound of steel against steel filled the air, accompanied by screams of fury and pain. Blood was flowing in every direction; Splattering across the grass, filling the earth and the air with it's color. As the battle continued for hours, the blood filled the battlegrounds until it looked like a sea of blood and corpses.

The sun was rising, it's color that of crimson, as if it had absorbed the blood that had been spilled. The remaining soldiers stacked the corpses of their enemies and friends upon each other, one after another, until it finally resembled a mountain. A mountain of flesh. Shortly after, the soldiers each went to their respective home, broken and horrified by the consequences of war. Weeping could be heard in the distance. Wails of pain echoed in the plains only to be abruptly silenced. The battleground turned quiet and only the cawing of the crows could be heard as they feasted upon the mountain of corpses.

The Consequence Of Hunger

The crows were not the only ones preparing to feast. As the crows began to eat of the mountain, their meal got interrupted by a young boy, charging at the bodies. His clothing dirty and ragged, having no sandals and his hair was a mess. His eyes were that of black. But one couldn't see life in them. One could only see hunger and desperation. The crows were cawing as if they were disappointed. The young boy pulled at a corpse whose arm stuck out, what the boy didn't realize was that whenever he tried to pull the corpse, the mountain slowly started to waver. When the boy miraculously pulled half of the corpse's body out of the pile, the boy looked up and saw an avalanche of bodies coming at him. He was too late and thus got buried under hundreds of corpses, being unable to move or see anything.

At first he tried to scream, but he was too weak for it, nor could he move. Having had no food or water for days, he had attempted to do what most of his peers would consider disgusting and the acts of a beast. He had attempted to eat a human corpse. As he could do nothing, he just awaited his death, lying there for hours, thinking about his life. Only to realize that he couldn't remember anything. Nothing. It was just a blank void in his mind.

The Scavenger of Fools

Silence. Deafening silence. This is the sound of the dead. This is the reward of war. The appropiate reward for fools. I reap the leftovers of such fools. I am a scavenger of fools. Why would you go so far as to throw your life away for something so trivial? Shouldn't you have stayed home with your parents?, the old man thought as he examined the corpse of a young man, who had got a clean cut through the stomach, his intestines spilling out on the grass. The old man paid no heed. He had seen things like this many times over the course of his long life. When he was done inspecting the body, he looked at the young mans face one more time. The young mans expression was a mix of pain and disbelief, his eyes wide open and his mouth twisted as if he was still in pain. The old man rose up and shouted orders to the rest of the scavengers:

All right guys. There is nothing of worth to be found here. Just burn the corpses and we will be on our way from this place, his voice deep and powerful, as if demanding immediate obedience. And obeyed they did. The rest of the men out on the battlefield threw their torches at the mountain of corpses. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air, the flames devouring the remains of the fallen. Along with one boy that had not fallen. The scavengers walked away, the old man walking in the front. Their shadows dancing in the light of the flames.

Everyone are fools. Fools indeed.

The Strength To Scream

As the boy heard the footsteps of the scavengers, he suddenly felt something warm inside of him. Hope. He wanted to scream but he couldn't.

Save me! SAVE ME! SAVE ME! IT'S NOT FAIR! I WANT TO LIVE! I WANT TO SURVIVE!, the young boy screamed inside his head. But that hope was quickly snuffed out as he heard a deep, harsh, voice;

All right guys. There is nothing of worth to be found here. Just burn the corpses and we will be on our way from this place.

The young boy who had felt hope, now felt terror. His mind screamed over and over, repeating the same words;

LET ME LIVE! LET ME LIVE! LET ME LIVE!!, as the flames started to get stronger and stronger, the stench of burning corpses filled the air. When the flames finally reached the young boy, he found the strength to scream.

Just The Wind

As the group of scavenger walked away from the place, a scream could be heard. A scream that went through their bones and chilled them to the spine. Turning around to see where it came from, they stared at the burning mountain. The screaming abruptly stopped. When the old man stared at the flame, he simply looked at it for a time and turned around, shaking his head and resumed the walk.

Am I hearing things? I swear I heard a boy screaming. Must have been the wind, the old man thought. As he looked forward, he saw a young boy clothed in ragged, brightly red clothes and worn out sandals. His hair was a mess and his black eyes were seemingly fixated at him. But it wasn't the old man the young boy was staring at. He also had a chain dangling from his chest. He seemed to be transparent, as the old man could see right through him. Shaking his head once more, the old man walked straight through the transparent body of the young boy, muttering;

Just the wind. Nothing but the wind. All I need is saké when we get home and I will be fine. That's right. It was just the wind.

Chain of Fate

As the young boy stood there, staring at the flames devouring the mountain of corpses along with his own, he realized that he was dead. And that a chain was dangling from his chest, which begun to deteriorate, as if something was eating away at it. As the old man walked through the young boy, muttering, the young boy started to scream. Screaming for seemingly an eternity. The chain began to deteriorate even faster. The chain's steel reflecting the flames, it's cold rattling the signal of the young boy's impending doom. As the boy screamed, he covered his face and began to run across the battlefield, running across streams of blood and limbs lying everywhere. He ran and ran through the forest, it's dark shadows semmingly turning alive as the young boy ran. The chain's rattling could be heard. The rattling echoed across the forest, as the young boy ran.

Not The Wind

As the old man had just walked through the transparent boy, muttering, he suddenly heard that scream once more. Raw and filled with terror. Turning around, he saw the young boy running, his hands apparently covering his face. The young boy was still screaming as he ran through the battlefield and into the forest. But something else could also be heard as the young boy screamed. The rattling of chains, almost as if it was laughing, the chorus of howls accompanying it, as if the wolves had scented prey. But it wasn't the wolves howling. It was something else. Something worse than a mere pack of wolves.

He is still running. The chain's rattling is still echoing across the forest.


Powers and Abilities



Name (Kanji): <How it looks> TBA

  • Shikai: TBA
  • Bankai: TBA



Battles & Events

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