Name: Izumi
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Height: 178cm
Weight: 65kg
Hairstyle: Short and messy/spiky
Facial hair: None
Hair color: Light brown
Eye color: Black
Blood type: AB
Primary chakra nature: Earth
Hidden Village: Hokorigakure
Clan: The Sabaku Kuchikomi
Good or evil at heart?: Good
Specialization: Medical Ninjutsu | | |
The coarse dust had settled down for that day; a welcome sight for the inhabitants of Hokorigakure’s largest medical facility. Some would even say it was a good omen passed from the gods. Several patients had opened their windows to enjoy the clear skies and shining sun. The general mood was uplifting; especially for one soon-to-be mother. Elika had been in the hospital for almost a day, and in labor for around five hours; a cool breeze helped dull the pain and bring whimsical thoughts.
Such contentment would not last, however. As clouds began to cover the sky above, so too did clouds of doubt and fear move in upon Elika’s heart. She feared the pain of childbirth and the arduous journey of motherhood ahead. Yet, she feared one thing infinitely more than all the others: death. Her body was feeble; she had faded in and out of consciousness before even going into labor. The imagined pain of not being able to see her child grow was greater than any physical pain she felt.
Elika’s worries were well founded. Her fighting spirit faded as the child came kicking into the mortal world. Before the baby first opened his eyes, Elika had passed away. Young Izumi never knew the loving embrace of his mother.
Izumi grew as a kind and gentle child, yet he remained distant from the other children. This distance put Izumi at odds with his peers. On several occasions he looked to his father for help; yet none usually came. Gorou cared much for his son -- he believed it was his duty to love the child twice as much as normal to make up for lost motherly love. Unfortunately, such was not possible for the busy shinobi. Gorou was a member of Godai Temple, and thus spent his days on the road in search of rare jutsu.
Days, even weeks would pass without Gorou returning home; Izumi began skipping school as a result. His classmates showed him no respect, his teachers disdained his lack of learning and his father paid him little attention.
Izumi’s curiosity slowly dragged him to his father’s study; a dusty old room barely visited by Gorou -- it was more used as storage for the countless scrolls and texts he had collected through the years. The first box Izumi encountered sat on the shelf immediately to the left of the door. He gulped as he read the label on the box: “Elika.”
Over the next few days, Izumi poured over the contents of the box. It contained everything; from ninja registration ID, to medical licenses, to ninjutsu scrolls. His interest was taken primarily by the numerous scrolls of medical ninjutsu; Izumi’s shortcomings in other categories inspired his determination in the medical field, and by extension, other academy level skills.
He quickly shot to the top of his class, studying the notes from his mother’s time in the academy and beginning his own research into medical techniques thanks to her scrolls. This, however, required him to spend most of his time in solitude. Izumi graduated with among the highest scores in his class; he could perform almost thirty different jutsu already, but he couldn't name at least five of his other classmates.
Several years passed as a genin without issue. Gorou’s workload increased, and as he came home less and less, his physical health deteriorated. Occasionally he would return home and sleep for multiple days at a time. Izumi offered his help; however, the medical ninjutsu he had learned thus far would have no effect. Still, Izumi felt the need to help. His father was the last friend he had in his lonely world.
Gorou was admitted to a hospital soon after, just down the hall from the room his wife had died in. Izumi, when the doctors were not administering care, tried as many medical ninjutsu as he could find scattered around his father’s study. Nothing succeeded in healing his father, and as he resorted to more dangerous techniques, the doctors forbade him from visiting without direct supervision. Izumi no longer came to experiment with theoretical medical ninjutsu, but rather enjoyed the time he could spend with his father.
The young teen had never really relaxed with his father; any time he had been home, Gorou either slept or studied his newfound scrolls. While in the hospital, Izumi heard many tales of his father’s adventures; the wise and comical shinobi he had met, the extravagant food he tasted and the powerful jutsu he had unearthed.
Inevitably, with an unknown sickness and no will to fight, Gorou died in a way unimaginable; he passed away enjoying a gentle breeze blowing through the windows with his son by his side. Not once did Gorou believe he’d die such a gentle death, and as he went, his last regret was allowing Izumi to see him so weak.
Izumi’s next phase of life was what he considered his all time low; he fell into a deep depression, believing that showing emotion was weakness. He had no friends he could trust enough with his problems and no colleagues he could rely on. Izumi’s condition dragged him down lower and lower each day until it reached the boiling point. He lay in the same hospital bed his father had weeks earlier, unwilling to move. His motivation was nonexistent.
As Izumi lay in the bed, he felt the same gust both of his parents had. The curtains fluttered in the wind, the sun glared down onto the floor in an almost visible sunbeam. The scene was almost surreal in its simplicity. A foam kunai lay next to him -- a gift from distant relatives Izumi had kept for ages. A sudden eagerness rushed over him. He had not shared lunch with that one girl from Team 14 in months. He hadn’t helped teach an academy class basic medical ninjutsu -- he hadn’t even seen his own genin team in what seemed like the longest time.
With a slight curiosity, Izumi slipped out of the window and landed gracefully outside. It felt nice to be free; the sun warming his face as he strolled about the streets of Hokorigakure. He enjoyed the meaningless chatter among passersby -- he did draw some attention to himself, donning the gown of a hospital patient. Izumi didn’t really mind, though. For once in his life, he didn’t care what others were thinking about him. The brown mop of hair on his head waved violently in the wind as he made his way towards home.
That same day, Izumi did his first mission in months. His teammates were surprised, to say the least -- their usual replacement had basically taken his spot. He slept feeling more refreshed than he had since Gorou had died. For Izumi, it was time to move on and find new friends and family to put his trust in.
Izumi didn’t entirely give up his advanced studies; his father’s notes came after he finished his mother’s. They were of an entirely different caliber -- some of the jutsu he had discovered were classified as S-rank techniques.
By the age of 18, Izumi had become a proficient medical ninja; he had reclaimed his position on his team in the eyes of his colleagues. However, he knew it was time to go on to greater things -- he could not laze around, occasionally fighting low ranking rogues and cleaning up garbage from the streets.
His father’s scrolls and books had been studied meticulously multiple times, and Izumi realized it was time to create his own -- to follow in his father’s footsteps. He dropped from regular Shinobi duty, instead opting to be an on-call medical ninja. This allowed Izumi to spend most of his downtime away, pursuing jutsu as Gorou once had.
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