Misora

is a former Hunter-nin of the hidden village Kirigakure. Separated from her at birth, she was left alone in the depths of Bloody Mist village to be swallowed up by the elements. Though it appeared fate had other plans for her. Taken in by an older couple, she was raised as one of their own despite developing a crimson hue at the young age of 5. Enrolled in the academy a year later, she would soon be subjected to psychological torture and emotional turmoil like her sister.

Constantly picked on for her diabolical red eyes, shunned by those she tried to become friends with, and isolated by the village along with her adoptive family, the girl snapped. The academy ran red on that day as she took her time with those tormentors, tearing them apart slowly as their spilled blood soothed her inner demon. Her angelic smile as she skinned one of them alive proved disturbing for those who witnessed it and tried to intervene. Only to receive her undivided attention as she orchestrated their deaths. The girl stopped when there was not a soul to be found, her silken black hair and clothing sticky with the blood of all her classmates. As even those who were bystanders were considered guilty in her mind for allowing those actions to go on for so long. Licking her lips, she drank the remaining blood of an individual nearby before sitting down. The 8 year old was then immediately transferred to the anbu upon graduation, as not a soul wanted her on their genin team. Even the couple who had kindly taken in the little baby found themselves wary of the girl.

Background
The fog rolled out, pulling off the blanket of mist that hid the town of Kirigakure. On the edge of Kiri lay a basket. Though the streets remained somewhat bare, a few curious onlookers wandered over to the cradle as wiggled. Peering inside, they were surprised to find a baby, one that looked only a few weeks old at most. Why someone would be so foolish as to leave such a vulnerable life to the elements was anyone's guess. But even the people of the Bloody Mist had a small trace of sympathy for the cute little child. Having desired a child of their own for a while, the couple took the baby in hand and brought it home with them, christening the young one with the name of Misora for the beautiful night sky that the found the girl under. Taking her in, they began raising the curious if somewhat insightful toddler, as Mi became the light of their lives. A friendly individual, she was soon a common sight around the village, running around with her adoptive parents not too far behind. Mi for her part found even this somewhat gloomy location to be exciting, full of things to explore. It was clear Misora wasn't turned off by the somewhat sullen demeanor of some peers, determined to alleviate some of the darkness that overrode a city trying to escape its bloody past. Perhaps surprisingly, Mi's chakra began to develop from a young age, reaching the point of being able to mold chakra into various types of ninjutsu by the age of 4-5. Since her parent weren't shinobi, they elected to enroll her in the academy, feeling her potential shouldn't be wasted. Particularly when her eyes changed into a particular potent shade of red. They didn't have to be geniuses to realize it was some form of dōjutsu. Misora for her part was excited at the opportunity to make new friends, ignorant to the fallacy of the world she lived in. So the deal was done and the girl was entered, marking her journey's dark turn.

She hated it so much, yet no one would listen to her. The academy soon became a place of hell for her, as her fellow students isolated her. At first it was simply ignoring adolescent's existence when she tried reaching out to them, eager to build up a rapport. Then it became teasing at her distinctive red eyes, and factor for which they ostracized Mi. But teasing soon became jeering, progressing to a point where walking through the courtyard opened the girl up to having insults flung at her from every possible direction. When she chose to ignore them, such interactions became physical as they would pull her hair and throw objects at her eyes, calling them the mark of a devil and Misora a bad omen. It soon became a daily occurrence, as the youth tried appealing to her parents and authorities. The former, while somewhat sympathetic initially, told her to stop whining and stick it out. While the latter simply repeated the actions of the students, belittling and demoralizing the girl further as she ran from the station. In the arms of more tormentors, as they noted something about her eyes screamed bloodline limit. Their abnormality was perhaps the most obvious point. Her grades suffered as she dropped from the top of her class to its lower quarter, suffering psychologically as various types of torture were inflicted on her.

At the age of 7, Mi was still in the academy, lagging behind as others began moving towards their final preparation. Drained as her daily affairs played out, consisting of physical abuse, mental harrying, and constant mind games where some would pretend to be a friend only to crush her hopes by joining in on the misery making. While others would simply stand aside and watch Mi be beaten to a pulp on a regular basis. Those two variations weren't the worst in her mind however. It was the ones that watched her suffer, but then walked away, as if she was an insignificant spec that would soon be dealt with. The girl fractured piece by piece as this sequence continued unabated, with no one interfering. At times, some of the instructors would encourage the actions, as if the scene gave them personal satisfaction. Until someone went too far on such a day. Having already completed the daily ritual of hurting her in every way imaginable, they began to strip the juvenile of her clothing. Such action was a complete shaming from which there was no possible return. And she snapped, Misora's mind going blank as wrath filtered through her system. Her eyes, their normal shade of crimson, turned blood red. Before the iris shrank into non-existence and the color spread over her sclera, creating one complete form of eerie destruction. The laughter that slid out of her mouth was that of a creature of the underworld as she stood before snapping one student in half, bending them as each vertebrae's snap reverberated across the courtyard. Other students started to back up only to feel a massive wave burst from the guardian of hell. Her smile was psychotic as she crushed another student into small pieces, manipulating the blood of others as if it was a simple act of breathing. Taking those closest to her, she skinned them alive, layer by layer with meticulous speed.

While depriving the heart's of blood. Or better yet, causing blood buildup as portions of people began to explode from the uncontainable pressure. Sometimes it was the head, other times the torso, occasionally even limbs so they could wait patiently for her to play with them once more. Despite the chaos of each movement, it was planned in painstaking detail, knowing exactly who to take out first, how to manipulate the blood in patterns that would cause any would be escapees to remain in place until she could "see to them". As instructors became involved in the mayhem, she made use of them as human shields, before causing them to flip inside out, killing them instantly. In her mind, the academy students were her true targets, not wanting to waste her time on those pieces of trash considered "role models". Perhaps most disturbing was that she took one instructor and ripped that woman's heart out, before swallowing it like the organ was nothing more than a snack. Only when every single academy student remained dead did her desire fade. Reaching a level of satisfaction as she took a prone peer with such a vulnerable neck, sinking her teeth in before sucking the adolescent dry. How she broke the skin was unknown to those who found the carnage afterwards. Though fangs could be seen after she threw the now barren corpse away, licking her lips as her body knitted itself whole, the hellish red retracting from her sclera until it resided in her iris, her pupil returning its normal size. The shade became the color of roses, warmth returning to her cheeks in the form of a faint blush. She snickered as her grin faded into something maniacal before reaching the final stage of boredom. This is how the jōnin found her when they were called into manage the scene, only finding several dead instructors and entire class of academy students butchered. Marking the third time in their history that they had to witness such an affair.

She sat in the middle of the open area as if in a daze as the cleanup began. It was clear from her bloodied clothes that the Misora was the culprit, as if her impassive yet sociopathic gaze wasn't proof enough. Perhaps afraid of angering the girl, they skirted her in wide circles around until she stood up, stretching as if this was a normal occurrence before walking home. Maybe she realized that Kiri-nin were tailing her as she made the trek, but Mi couldn't bring herself to care. Those corrupted little creatures meant nothing to her as she opened the door. Nearly giving her adoptive parents heart failure as they saw her drenched clothing, sticky with the blood of her brethren. But then they really looked at her, taking in the madness that lived behind those eyes. Something had broken beyond repair in the girl's mind, particularly as she remembered what her parents had done. Some part of her knew that these people were fill-ins: nothing tied her to them biologically as they weren't even shinobi, never mind not sharing a single trait appearance wise. It was this part of her that reacted, fracturing their spines in two before tossing their hapless bodies against a wall. They had simply watched her like the rest, probably gaining their own pleasure from seeing the youth shatter. The Kiri-nin could only watch in horror, unable to interfere against movements that required no hand seals and appeared inexplicably tied to her emotions, lending them speed beyond imagination. There was no thinking behind them, but simply an action. Or reaction for that matter. Turning to them, she gave a sweet smile before plopping down on a couch, bored by these proceedings.

Ironically, graduation was that following day. Only Misora crossed that stage, picking up her Kiri headband before tying it around her forehead. She felt the choking hatred from the parents who appeared to want nothing more than to destroy her for killing their precious offspring. Thus they were hypocrites, and she could only laugh at their stupidity before blowing them a kiss and baring in her teeth in a sardonic smile. One that promised them they would be next on her list. Turning a sea of animosity into overwhelming fear. Knowing that very few of them were remotely prepared for her unique and rare skillset. Something that could bring even the strongest of shinobi to their knees if given time. If anything was clear after that graduation, it was that not a single genin team would pick her up. Having already developed a reputation before going on a single mission. Considering there were few options left, they transferred the nearly 8 year old child to the anbu. Where she was immediately placed in the hunter-nin quadrant, one of the more astute decisions made by her superiors as they took in just how wrong she felt. How satanic she appeared, even if her exterior was that of a cute if pretty little girl. Her eyes held a wickedness that belonged to something ancient, and they decided to put it to good use on those that betrayed this madhouse. Thus on the first day of anbu training she was sent out with a few others, only instructed to bring back the targets. Alive or dead, in one piece or in pieces, it didn't matter to her glee.

Soon she would earn the epithet Jackie the Ripper, due to her brutal execution style, tossing limbs and body parts along the trials of those who chose to betray Kirigakure, leaving many afraid for their lives should they decide to leave. Thus her presence was enough to dissuade many from pursuing the trajectory of missing-nin, knowing who would be likely to follow them should they attempt such a feat. The now teenage girl had quickly compiled one of the best records in Kirigakure's history, having yet to fail on a mission she was sent on. Her savagery delighted the upper echelon of the village, who gave her a secondary appointment in the town's interrogation unit, noting she displayed insightful wisdom on how to make even a grown man cry. Having accumulated all that knowledge from her days of being bullied, she now applied the same tactics to those she was responsible for interrogating, though her methods were both polished and brutal in comparison to the rudimentary ones utilized by those deceased children. Meanwhile, her appearance continued to mature as the pretty girl became a fine young woman. Though both her reputation and the madness that lurked within her gaze proved an obstacle for the Kiri men that vied for her affections. Many proved cowardly when faced with her psychotic grin, scared to confront the depth of insanity that remained within Misora's heart and mind. As for Misora, she proved incapable of understanding the notion of love, having not witnessed such an emotion in her lifetime. So she continued her sociopathic tendencies, ignoring the village's inhabitants whenever not on a mission. Though a certain target would soon catch her attention.

Opening Their Eyes
On a mission to capture one of Konoha's most reputable anbu shinobi, about two scores of hunter-nin succumb to her wrath, only to find out that one of their own was kin. For Misora, it was a realization that she didn't have only herself in this world, one that had rejected her, and one that she originally rejected through violent methods. Nevertheless, the moment served as a catalyst for saving what fragments remained of Misora's humanity. While severing any remaining loyalties she had to that detestable pit of a village. Culminating in a vicious massacre that belonged in a slaughterhouse, earning the missing-nin designation and boosting her credentials for the coveted S-rank. In her mind a new destination illuminated; Ame, home to the madness, corruption, anarchy, and thievery that could cause such a lady to disappear from the public eye. To be precise, home was calling her while Mi sorted herself out from the surprise that had found her earlier.

The following sequence saw her grand entry into what was a devolving location. The guards posted outside of the establishment simply saw an attractive, well endowed woman arrive at their posts. Her smile was serene, and one of them proved brave enough to touch her, pressing himself against her rear as his erection pressed against her backside. Dirty individuals that were simply hired by various powers within the congested, vice-filled place. Their lewdness knew no bounds as the others sought to join in on the fun. However, Misora's expression became sardonic, believing herself to have indulged them enough. With her abilities coming to her with the ease of breathing, she tore through them, skillfully flipping one individual inside out, causing body to shred itself to pieces while she made another explode. The last she ripped apart slowly, piece by piece, unconcerned with his cries of agony. Any remaining guards in the immediate vicinity fled, though they didn't make it far before succumbing to a similar fate. This was the monster that Kirigakure had fed all this time, gorging it with evils that were unspeakable. However, another red eyed individual caught wind of the whole affair, watching from the shadows with amusement and interest. Before electing to approach the woman, revealing himself slowly to avoid provoking the murderous lass.

Personality
"Does hell scare you that much? Don't worry, I'll be there to guide you through its gates. Though let me finish playing with you first. Your screams are so pleasing to the ear after all."

- Misora's general mindset.

A kind child. One desperately looking for friendship, kinship, an acquaintance. Anything to confirm her existence. Born with a tender heart, she sought to embrace the family that chose to raise her. And they reciprocated, giving her enough love and attention for the girl to remain satisfied for the time being. They even proved to be accepting of her when she first manifested those eyes, allowing Mi to feel protected and safe, something that she hadn't experienced in the early stages of her life. Though caring, they pushed Misora to seek out peers and form friendships. Unwavering, she went at this task with abandon, displaying the warm heart that had originally endeared her to the family. But at the academy, the children were cruel, deciding to taunt her and belittle her. Piece by piece they chipped away at the girl's happy go lucky demeanor, as emotional and psychological warfare turned physical. Making her a shell of her former self, one that was sullen and recluse. Hoping that by leaving people alone they would do the same. Only to found out such thinking was incredibly naive. As if predators circling a kill, they increased their activities tenfold. Breaking her further as her adoptive parents sympathized yet told her to "stick it out". Reduced to a fragility matching glass, her fear morphed with the maturing of her eye abilities, as they responded to her brittle psyche and became undying hate. One push and prod caused the girl to shatter, her mind snapping as an inhuman snarl ripped from her mouth. The innocent Mi was just another casualty of that affair.

Her demeanor shifted drastically as she assigned the groups for execution. There were the bystanders, those that simply watched as she was beaten to a pulp and condescended to oblivion. The cowards, those who not only watched the affair but had the audacity to walk away and seek to do other things. As if Misora didn't matter in their minds. Then came the tormentors themselves, the ones who doled out the pain and suffering without a thought for who they were toying with. This new Mi relished returning the favor. Manipulating their blood and iron was as natural as breathing for the Chinoike, who stepped into her excellence. It was so much fun turning them inside out, making their bodies bend at unnatural angles and delighting at their cries of agony. Everyone screamed as she began murdering this class one by one, not pausing as others tried to intervene. Her hate synchronized with her blood eyes, churning out a monster disguised as an innocent girl who possessed a radiant smile. Their abomination had matured, as Misora accepted her fate. She became a fan of slaughter in the most excruciating way possible, fanatical about maximizing pain while keeping her victim alive to experience it. The abnormality soon gained a dual appointment within the anbu, becoming both a hunter-nin and a captain of the "interrogation" unit. Though torture was more appropriate word, as she quickly mastered psychological warfare after having been treated to it so often herself. Relishing the punishment given out as the bullied became the bully. Before pushing away others as she saw them as weak and terrible people, meant to be her playthings for the corrupted individuals they showed themselves to be.

A small reprieve occurred with the discovery of her dear twin sister, who embraced the loner. Helping Misora realize just how lost she was at that time. Her personality began to shift as a result of that small kindness, allowing her enough fortitude to break away from Kirigakure, the murderous landscape that cultivated such infamy. Nevertheless, her love of battle remains undiminished and her penchant for torture stayed high, content to dismantle enemies with an ease that terrified both her allies and adversaries. Finding a productive channel to vent out her inner turmoil and frustrations. She would discover camaraderie with a Midnight Raider and another survivor of Kiri's tyranny. Staving off the madness and dark thoughts that lurked within her mind and heart by executing the underbelly of Ame's society. Only when this was completed would she find herself in a state of confusion once more. Used to looks of disgust and hatred, the reverence that was displayed by the city's citizens shocked her. The daemon that was her railed against these kind gestures, secretly wanting to continue the path of self-destruction. But what fragile seed had weathered the tumultuous 18 years bloomed under such appreciation. Furthered by the strengthening friendship between her and the two rebels. Coupled with a rendezvous with her beloved Yosoi and the birth of her niece, Misora began to think that maybe she could stop being a monster. At least outside of battle.

Perhaps even more promising was the idea of settling down, having found a man that fascinated her. And who she captivated. He would take her hand in marriage shortly after, and ring in the birth of their eldest daughter followed by their youngest a couple years later. While Misora greatly cared for her two children and husband, love remained an elusive phrase for her. Perhaps that part of her had been broken beyond repair. While she identified with wanting and desire, this higher emotion that led to self-sacrificing and selfishness just didn't compute. Resulting in the woman drifting further from her growing circle of family and friends. Even the relationship with Inoiki felt like one of tolerance rather than unconditional acceptance. Adoring her beauty while keeping her less attractive qualities behind closed doors. Further alienating a woman that had suffered so much already. Some section of her mind felt a certain hatred for Mi's twin despite the irrationality of such a feeling. Despising her for leaving Misora to those traumatizing affairs in spite of Yosoi not knowing of the former's existence. She took to venturing alone once more, spending less and less time at home. Remembering the acquaintance whose radiance and warmth made her feel like a disgusting abomination. Only to be held by feelings of complete acceptance. A god accepting his children's imperfections. Or a lover taking both the good and the bad of their partner regardless of the circumstances. Hope springing eternal in the hearts of those near him; it was a feeling she craved once more. A fallen angel reaching for the light of heaven.

Contacting Takashi, she arranged to meet Okuyuki once more. In a setting both casual and formal, adoration bursting in the woman's heart as she gazed upon Oku. His aura undiminished by time and his boyish good looks growing into a man who enraptured the opposite sex. She felt unworthy of his attention, unprepared for the innocent embrace he gave her, the negative nancy washed away in his glow....

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