The Hyuuga had reached the precipice of their ability to stave off their Jounin's attacks. Still they persisted, the trenches of "war" greeting them as Makoto once more took to assaulting them with impossible odds stacked in her favor. Beneath the sweat and bruised form, however, it was only the prologue to the tale of their fighting spirit. He could feel her ivory daggers at his back, concussive force and sharp slashes coalescing with forceful kicks knocking upon his doorstep. Desperation had invited itself into his every waking notion. The Hyuuga could only respond to the call in kind. One might have given in to the flurry of attacks if they didn't possess a Doujutsu superior to that of the norm. His blind spot would have granted his Jounin complete and utter dominion over proposed tactics, but it was her wild and feral ministration that offered him the briefest insight. His muscles burning, eyebrows furrowed, Asura was only a hair betwixt successful execution and failure.
Shunshin.
Less than half an inch separated them as Asura vanished, propelling himself forward and joining Tsukiya. Immediately, he recognized the stance of his kin. They were no longer capable of running. Their Jounin was an insurmountable mountain, gnashing tooth and claw combining to create the deadliest of opponents. His only option clear, Asura fell into sync with his fellow Hyuuga and planted his feet within the waters below. Nimble digits were instantly turned into lethal weapons as chakra lined them, the Byakugan roaring to life and taking measure of Makoto and her companions. The roar that escaped Asura's lungs signified the might of his attempt. A complete transition from evasive maneuvers into offensive countermeasures, the Hyuuga pair became a perfect sphere of synchronized strikes of the Jyuken nature.
Chakra dispersed, every limb and effort the extent to which they were determined to survive. Asura struck out against fang and claw with no less than one hundred and ten percent of what was left of him. Burning muscle prevailed, his Byakugan allowing him to move in unison with Tsukiya. Where the Genin had struck, Asura would follow to keep their defense consistent. Explosions of force rang out and into the atmosphere, his battle cry reaching its climax as Asura defied the fate of failure.
Whether or not it was enough was not the question - Makoto was far too powerful for them. But this was more than that. It was a testament to the Hyuuga Clan's abilities, an effort that would rise above contestation and show their Jounin that they were capable.
To the end, Asura would go. Hopefully, Tsukiya would follow unflinchingly.
He was beginning to regain control. Asura's breaths grew ragged, desperate almost. There was no fatigue to speak of as he continued his dash forward. It was the mental exhaustion, the cardiac muscle within his chest beating at a rapid pace that the Hyuuga could have sworn was externally audible. The veins protruding from either sides of his countenance took registry of his surroundings. As he watched on, the sight of the Genin being struck by Makoto's fearsome attacks forced his focus to deviate. The hut in the distance would provide greater maneuvers for him to make his escape. Of this much, he was almost certain. But he had been chosen, handpicked to rise in rank. Inwardly, the Chuunin kicked the beast back into its cage and managed to slam it shut before locking it in place. "Obey."
The thought was followed by an immediate halt with his footing. Sandals dug hard into the terra below, a hard pivot allowing the Hyuuga to turn and thrust a kunai from his pouch upward and toward the embrace of a tall tree. Shuriken sliced through the air and quickly decreased the distance between themselves and human flesh. But Asura persisted, forming few handseals just before impact and delivering himself from a painful fate. Immediately, a plume of smoke enveloped his immediate surroundings as Makoto's attacks ripped through what would have been his torso. She would find, instead, a large block of wood in the Hyuuga's place.
Asura winced hard as his form appeared where a stack of logs resided. Even if abandoned, a set of huts in the distance signified that someone had lived in these parts. As such, wood had thankfully been gathered and placed at intervals. The Byakugan, in its infinite wonder, had surveyed and identified his only means of escape. Still, Asura's garb had been slashed and tattered. The imperfection of his ability against a Jounin had cost him, his jacket sliced open and the only savior to the Chuunin's back. He had no time to dwell upon his actions.
He had other priorities.
Hoping to have used the confusion of the Substitution technique, Asura burst forward with naught but desperation in his limbs. Pounding the earth, he raced toward Tsukiya whilst his Byakugan continued to survey the field. For his Jounin's pleasure, the kunai he'd flung had separated a beehive from its place in the trees. Impact with the ground would release its inhabitants, a swarm of bees angrily rising to the challenge of finding the nearest culprit - Makoto.
Once more, he dug into his pouch. A gathering of senbon needles were gathered betwixt his fingers, thrown with a rookie's precision at Tsukiya's pursuers. They were hardly a threat, more for distraction as the Hyuuga leapt forward at a narrow angle toward the water. His hands gripping Tsukiya's collar, Asura attempted to pull the Genin to stand without losing a great deal of his momentum. He shoved the Genin further forward, staggering behind him in an attempt to bear the brunt of retaliation to cover his escape if it came.
The display before him unfolded with a certain rhythm, and the Hyuuga had no choice but to follow suit. As Nomura took to evasive maneuvers, Asura only had moments to plot a course of following up. The sound of arrows striking the vicinity about them would not deter him, thumping and thudding with murderous intent. The Chuunin bore witness to it all, the field about him revealed as he spotted the few archers who remained in the distance. There was no time to delegate. Projectiles whizzed just by Nomura, prompting Asura's wrath to tear itself from the pit of his patience.
As if on cue, Asura reached into his belongings. Twin kunai were pulled from his pouch. If Nomura had followed through with his attire being tossed as a diversion, the Hyuuga would use it to his advantage. Arrows tore through the fabric with success, though a single aggressor would find the dual set of kunai that arrived through that same jacket the last thing he'd see before they buried themselves deep into his chest. Nomura's sword would make a similar display, the roar of pain and scarlet piercing the air satisfactory to the beast that raced toward the surface of Asura's psyche.
"Damnit!!" Asura heard, following by the sound of foliage rustling and equipment clanking. Into the gathering the last of them maneuvered, clicking and positioning the objective. Nomura's bearing down upon his assailant was met with no resistance. The light had long since left his eyes. His life's essence was already beginning to pool about his skull. "Had to put your nose into other people's shit, didn't you!?" the hidden archer shouted. A single arrow was fired this time. Attached was what looked to be a strip of paper.
Asura's eyes narrowed. "Move!!" the Hyuuga exclaimed, a vault forward placing him into a shoulder charge hard against Nomura's side. There was little time to divulge a plan, his Byakugan easily discerning its intent. He used the force of collision to grip the body beneath him, rolling and yanking the corpse into the arrow's trajectory. A fleshy thump later, Asura pushed the body onto its back and staggered to his feet.
A desperate jump to safety. A curl as he slid across the earth.
Last he'd checked, the Hyuuga was more than capable of handling himself.
It was clearly the underestimation of an overzealous swordsman, a consistent occurrence that came with those who had so-called "dedicated" themselves to the art of the blade. But Asura had no such necessity. His very hands were far more lethal, the Byakugan offering up the Tenketsu of his opponents and exposing them to the Gentle Fist style of fighting. An eyebrow lofted as Nomura took to his flimsy excuses. His words flowed through one ear and out of the other. As he turned his back, the corner of Asura's lips began to turn upward into a rueful smile. "Unfortunate."
Handseals were performed once his ocarina was carefully tucked away, a small string that yielded sudden motion from within the bags of sand that sat around. With greater intensity they began to shake and shift, evident to the swordsman if he were paying adequate attention to his surroundings. Chakra rose to the surface of his focus. As if on cue, the bags began to explode one by one. Innumerable grains began to coalesce and dance through the air, though the practice that the Hyuuga had put into motion was hardly what one would call expert.
"But we can improvise."
The sand jumped to life and began to converge from multiple directions onto Nomura's tome. So forceful was that small display that the text was easily scooped up and shifted, flipping about in the air and out of Nomura's reach. A single, flimsy pillar wobbled and shook.
"Don't be so concerned with me. Worry more about yourself," Asura began. Once more, the sand shifted and toppled over. The tome's intended target was Nomura's head, sand accompanying it to pelt his features with grain and parchment alike. "Don't disappoint me.....Genin." That last word laced with the reminder that he outranked Nomura.
His Byakugan's divinity couldn't be ignored. Asura's speed at its maximum, it was a hopeless - futile - endeavor to attempt to outrun Makoto and her superior swiftness. The world about him was a canvas, her ability to close the gap betwixt them almost supernatural to the Hyuuga's eyesight. From deep within his bowels, that same guttural growl had called out to him. Foliage and bark alike were torn to bits as the Inuzuka's form twisted gloriously through the air. To his southern flank, the sound was akin to razors blitzing and overcoming any wooden obstacle that dared to separate her from his flesh. As they began to converge on his position, the thud of the Chuunin's heartbeat resounded like a trumpet to his own ears.
"NO!!" That single word was roared out and into the open with terrifying volume, the Hyuuga's countenance twisting into a sadistic smile of defiance. Upon a dime, he was somehow able to stop himself immediately at an advantageous tree branch. Poised, feral, patient. It was only a breath that separated him from being struck by Makoto's fury. Fingers curled into claws as Asura immediately leaned forward, his very form flickering out of existence only a few moments before impact. The Chuunin's feet thud hard against the ground as he landed in a crouch, arms outspread as his last smoke pellet was cast above. "RUN, FOOL! RUN!
Yet again, Asura burst forward with as much speed as the Chuunin could muster. Features contorting, legs pounding the earth as if resistant to evasion. "Don't fight. Don't fight. Don't fight. Don't fight." It was a mantra, a command as his mental shell shattered into serrated shards. The plume of smoke may have done little to conceal him for long, but it was irrelevant against the inner turmoil, the inner storm of Asura's psyche. The inner demon had been unleashed, intent upon assisting the Hyuuga in his objective.
It was futile to attempt to fight. Makoto was a pillar of strength and ferocity. Asura was but a support beam in comparison. Completely driven by instinct, the compromised Asura deviated from any set pattern with branch jumping and yet again running along the ground. The scroll still tucked away, he clutched his chest as if making a declaration - she would have his scroll over his dead body.
There was something....strange....about having to run from that which was so familiar. A sense of terror began to wash over the Hyuuga as he ran, his every waking thought to increase the distance betwixt himself and his "aggressors". As he thought upon the various senses involved in tracking, it was clear to Asura that he would need to take measures to distract, disturb. A hand pushed into his pouch, the index and middle finger plucking a smoke bomb from the safety of his belongings. Simultaneously, he removed a simple piece of cloth that held his attire in place.
His shirt loosened to expose taut muscle and smooth epidermis beneath, Asura tossed the unequipped garb into the distance behind the projectile meant to obscure vision. Immediately, the pellet exploded through what forestry was available to his southern flank. He dare not decrease his speed, opting instead to make an angular Shunshin that delivered him further into the blanket of flora and fauna.
They were undoubtedly much faster than him. Asura also considered the slobber that remained on the parchment he'd received. Along his journey, he swiped and brushed against bark and foliage alike in the hopes that they would search for their quarry within. The Hyuuga was no fool. More than aware that they were much faster than he, it was his only hope to misdirect and distract while he looked for better placement. How possible such a feat was in Kirigakure's environment, he could only theorize. Regardless, the gray plume behind him and the combination of scents and markings, Asura hoped, would keep both beasts at bay: the ones on four legs and the one deep within.
If nothing else, Nomura knew how to take initiative. Whether that left him a meat shield or a source to blame in the future, the possibilities were silently noted as Asura watched the Genin advance. He could feel the itch from within, a silent but desperate plea for the beast to once more be loosed from its cage. Grit teeth prevailed as he lowered his head, the Byakugan continuing to observe the vicinity with meticulous proportion. "Not nearly enough to babysit..." the Chuunin muttered when Nomura was out of range of audible ability. A deep breath before a leap from the earth. Asura would not follow suit in drawing a weapon of any sort. They were investigators, and fear would most likely lead to attempted misdirection.
A hand pushed any foliage and obstruction from before him as Asura traveled. The stench and sight of a poached animal was far too fresh for comfort. The individuals he'd spotted with his Byakugan were still within range. But as they began to close the distance, it was the extended distance of his visual prowess that allowed him to detect multiple projectiles speeding toward Nomura's front.
"Arrows! Dodge!" The only warning that Nomura would receive. Their lack of communication had meant that they'd been spotted by a distant source, one outside of Asura's range. To his east he evaded, a foot kicking hard from the bark of the tree he'd landed upon and sending him shooting in an angular fashion away from the volley. Asura landed in a crouch behind sufficient, wooden cover. He could hear their coordinated shouting. The disguises were being discarded in favor of swords, throwing knives.
"Three of them. Northwest!" Asura continued, providing a scope of knowledge for Nomura to take advantage of. The sound of arrow meeting wood thud hard about them. There was that itch again. Asura lifted a palm to his face, gripping his countenance and biting his lower lip until it was painful. "No. No. No..." Asura trailed off, intent upon quelling the urge. It was both fortunate and unfortunate that Nomura had unsheathed a weapon early. There was little choice but to leave the altercation to his hopefully capable hands.
But if all else failed....he could at least take the sword and the money after this Mission was over if the smartass Genin kicked the bucket early. He'd simply chalk it up to honorable sacrifice if asked why he hadn't swooped in and saved the day.
Just as quickly as he had arrived, it appeared that Asura would be bound for the exact opposite. He listened to the Jounin before him, standing to full height only when she'd addressed him. Easily, the Hyuuga dwarfed those whose height was well beneath his own. Her initial assessment did naught to deter him. Like pellets bouncing off of steel, Makoto held his undivided attention. She was certainly not wanting for volume or abrasive first impression, though neither had a true effect on Asura's calm, collected air. His orders received, the Chuunin's lips turned upward into a grin that spoke of challenge, of accomplishing the objective to its absolute completion. [break][break] He could feel it. That tug upon his soul, the chains rattling just slightly and accompanied by the groan of impatience within. Eyebrows furrowed as the Hyuuga received the scrolls, turning them over here and there to examine their composition. Immediately, his Byakugan exploded to life once birthed with a minute amount of chakra. The world was now his playground, every detail of flora and fauna his to dissect at a whim. Asura turned upon his heel. Only a nod to confirm the instructions, and Asura vaulted upward with a burst of speed. He needed to lose his pursuers, the feat nowhere near as easy in practice as it was in theory. Still, it was designed to test his knowledge and resolve against odds that outweighed him. [break][break] And so he took to a full speed dash, the scroll tucked away into the vest of his Chuunin's attire. Waves of silver flowed beautifully behind him as he sprinted, his destination clear: any forestry or land that would veil his scent, the sight of him, markings that would leave a trail. How he would accomplish such things remained unclear in the face of expert trackers. Regardless, the only direction was forward. If successful, the Hyuuga would create distance to at least give himself the opportunity to think.
Asura's features yet again remain unchanged, though inwardly he was caught upon a snag. To have dangled between offense that Nomura struggled with the grand composition of orchestra and then to have audibly called his lack of remembrance into question. The Hyuuga could feel those claws scratching from beneath the surface, attempting to rend the psychological walls of his patience and eviscerate his peer. The war waged on silently, Asura opting instead to tap idly against the open holes of his ocarina. No sooner than when Nomura's question slipped out and into open air did Asura step past him, his hope that the gesture would afford him a silent forgiveness for ignoring the Genin's question.
"The Orchestra.." Asura pretended to ponder. "That was today, wasn't it?" he asked, laying on another thick layer of deception. He'd complete the act with a soft shake of his head, feigning interest in Nomura's perception. "I suppose that I am. Today, however, is a day for training. To that end.." Asura trailed off. Protest or none, he ambled forward and crouched to inspect the bags of sand that rest along the perimeter of the training ground.
"Why not put the words in your book to practice?"
His intentions were clear. The Chuunin had longed to begin his training with the Sand Release, though he only had his family to instruct him in its uses. The plethora of teachings that he'd sat through began to filter through, so long and winding that even his inner beast could find respite in its boredom. Asura turned toward Nomura, hands gesturing outward toward the whole of the grounds. "Surely, hitting moving opponents that fight back has to be better than sitting on the sidelines and watching."
Asura silently wondered if this was a pun or not, a hand waving frantically at the stench before digits clamped down hard against his nostrils. It was enough to convince him that agreeing to this mission had been the worst decision he'd made in quite some time. Responding to the summoning of the Genin before him, the Hyuuga furrowed his eyebrows as a small portion of chakra was delivered to his optics. Suddenly, the Byakugan manifest. Gone were those luminescent green pools, replaced with something far greater. As the Chuunin took mental note of the area, his lips parted to sigh. "Right."
"And you brought me into the fold of this mission for a blade..?" Asura questioned the Genin. He knelt down in front of the mess, though such a ministration was more for show. He need not do anything to reveal that which surrounded him. Nearly 360 degrees of terrain was accessible to to the Hyuuga. Signs of life were scattered here and there, though one note in particular was of interest. Asura stood to full height, turning toward Nomura with a hand lofted toward their southern flank. "Fishermen. Five o' clock and approaching through the flora. We should spread our canvas and ask if anyone's seen consistent patrons around these parts."
Their mission was a clear one. Asura once more fished into his pocket for the parchment that had assigned them such a task. Details were scarce, and thus they had been delivered into the folds of investigation. "Situation's probably unbearable for the locals." Okay, that one was intentional.
The thought continued to roll around in his head like a command on loop, the day having greeted Asura with little more than the right to breathe and the necessity of interaction. A small, purple ocarina rest in the Chuunin's hands as he walked, nimble digits moving with precision as full lips shaped themselves to the instrument's opening. He played a soft tune that had completely stolen his attention, every note echoing and resounding throughout his mind as if devouring the flames of turmoil that so consistently raged within. Silver hair flowed against the gale, his trek a meaningless one upon the main road. He was simply seeking solace, this his coping mechanism for all that the Hyuuga Clan stirred when his training took place. How fortunate he was to have escaped their clutches for the day. Intent upon mastering the song, there was naught to disturb the intensity of his focus.
Or at least, one would have thought.
The excited voice hadn't exactly startled Asura, more snapping him back to reality as his footfall stuttered for but a moment. Feline eyes shifted toward the source of greeting: a Genin of Kirigakure. And an odd-looking one, at that. Despite the greeting, Asura's countenance showed no visible change. He lowered the ocarina until the instrument rest in the palm of one hand, the other simply dangling as the Hyuuga regurgitated some form of happy - practiced - response.
"...Hello.." he began. What was his name again? ...Nomura," Asura stated as swiftly as his memories would allow. There was little concern as to how the Genin before him would take his lack of remembrance. In an attempt to smooth the encounter, the Hyuuga changed subjects and gestured a hand toward the book. "Reading up on something important?" The question was accompanied by a slight raise of his eyebrows, a reminder inwardly that appearing inquisitive and invested drove the parameters of conversation to better places.
Bags of sand rest comfortably at the outer perimeter of the training area, the Chuunin silently remembering that he'd escaped his training earlier. Perhaps, with a little ingenuity, he could create a makeshift session in which he'd train far away from their scrutiny. If naught else, the afternoon skies that hosted billowing clouds of various shapes would offer him an aesthetically pleasing backdrop to his day.
To the untrained eye, the Hyuuga had simply materialized afront the Jounin and her kin.
True shinobi, however, were privy to the fact that he wasn't quite that fast yet. Feline eyes remained lowered. The tall, lean form rest in a crouch with absolute stillness. Silver locks, flowing like silk beneath the winds of practiced motion, came to rest behind him as if a blanket of tresses. His very form was neat and uniform, knuckles pressed to the sand and terra below. The standard Chuunin gear assigned to their ranks fit snug against his person, every inch of his clothing pressed and clear of dirt or lint. The ebb and flow of time seemed altogether paused at a breath before the Hyuuga's head lifted, acknowledging his Superior's presence with naught more than an obedient silence.
A well-oiled machine Asura was, finally standing to full height and towering over most who had made his acquaintance. Pools of luminescent green never strayed from their undivided attention, the command of the Jounin before him his sole purpose for drawing breath. Despite the calm that presented itself above the surface, however, one would have been foolish to assume him soulless, lifeless. No, it was quite the opposite. This marionette hosted a flame that, if she commanded it, would reduce the world around them to ash at a moment's notice.
D O S S I E R[break] — Name: Hyuuga, Asura[break] — Alias: "Byakko"[break] — Voice: Lines. — Age:20[break] — Birthday: October 31st — Height:6'3[break] — Weight:[. Redacted][break] — Build:Lean, Toned[break] — Hair Color: Silver [break][break] U N I Q U E - F E A T U R E S[break] = Eye Color -Luminescent Green, Feline [Purely For Aesthetics][break] = Tribal Tattoos -Left Arm To Shoulder. [break][break]
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There is much and more to be said about Asura Hyuuga of the Hidden Mist Village. Of course, this is dependent upon which side of the coin you speak of. There's the calm, collected Hyuuga who dwells upon life much as he would a puzzle: inquisitive, adventurous, social enough to pass for a Chuunin of respect and loyalty. And then there's the demon within, an animal that acts upon instinct and a force of ruthlessness buried beneath the surface of sardonic nature. Which side one receives is entirely dependent upon many factors. To be in the presence of Asura is to toy with chance, itself.
Thrust into the arms of a shinobi's life at a young age, Asura has been dealt a hand at life that few should have to play. Fending for his life became a daily struggle, built to the top of the Hyuuga's prowess to survive the harsh elements of being discarded by abusive parents. So prone to physical and mental pain was he that the young Genin was forced to find a way to cope. And so he locked his emotions deep within the folds of apathy. He was a marionette to his family, raised to be at the peak of physical and mental condition. To be on the side of error was to be punished, Asura's relationship with reprimand an intimate one. It was because of this that he stayed at the top of his class, a construct of class and forced social status.
...And Asura absolutely hates it.
It's hard for the Chuunin to stand out from the crowd. At an impressive six feet, three inches, Asura is an image of what is aptly called a masculine beauty. Luminescent, feline green eyes - an aesthetic created by doctors of the Hyuuga clan - provide nothing more than visual appeal. Asura's skin, smooth, unmarred and unblemished, is deeply tanned and defined by lines of muscle. One would believe that the young Chuunin had never seen combat, but it is quite the opposite. He simply underwent much "improvement" by his family, sculpted to please the eyes. Even his locks - silver, silken, long - are a sign of a kempt individual. Simply put, there is little about Asura that has not been carefully crafted.
This is not to say that Asura lacks character. Through the Academy's training, it was constant assignments away from home that allowed him to come into his own. He is mature beyond his years, well-spoken and often more quick to listen and understand than reply and attempt anything without some sense of awareness. It is for this reason that he was chosen to be one of Kirigakure's finest Chuunin. To his peers, Asura is the trump card. To his enemies, Asura is a wraith and a beast. It is hard to pin Asura's personality, the Hyuuga prone to moments of moral question that some would find black and white.
Is he good? Is he evil?
.....Only time will tell.
Deprived of a real childhood, it wasn't until the Academy's latter years that Asura developed hobbies and interests. He is deeply passionate about his Byakugan and its properties, having explored many environments and diving into knowledge of chakra and Taijutsu. To have so little escape the eye is a "gift" to him, and he trains intensely to fortify such a powerful Kekkei Genkai. Asura's favorite pastime is eating and music, sometimes doing both if he is able. Able to play multiple instruments and memorize songs with relative ease, he practices often to fortify the walls of his mental prowess. It's hard to say what triggers his bipolar tendencies, but one should exercise caution in moments of turmoil or forcing survival instincts to take hold.
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Proficiencies
— B Y A K U G A N —
-- Active.
Taijutsu - Gentle Fist [Apprentice]
"If my hands are made to strike, let there be no witness of mercy."
There are those who are capable of either finesse or brutality in combat. Both fortunately and unfortunately, Hyuuga Asura is capable of both. Having trained extensively from a young age, the Gentle Fist techniques of the Hyuuga Clan are his primary tools in combat. Adept at evasive maneuvers and closing gaps with decent precision, Asura seldom stalls or hesitates to deliver debilitating - sometimes lethal - blows to his adversaries. There is still room for much improvement, and it is Asura's personal goal to master the Gentle Fist style with no less than mastery level technique. Asura is aware of the blind spot that the Hyuuga are faced with. To that end, he works tirelessly to ensure that he's able to keep such vital information from any who would make an attempt on his life.
Shurikenjutsu [Apprentice]
"There is a certain lack of intimacy in a death unseen. Sacrifices, however, must be made at times."
Accompanying the Gentle Fist style of the Hyuuga is Asura's ability to throw weapons and instruments with great accuracy. Shuriken, senbon needles, any object thrown is meant to strike a particular area with the intent to disable or damage. The Byakugan assists with this endeavor, though Asura has much training to do in order to increase the distance and speed at which he fires projectiles. This is one of his favorite approaches to engagement, though closing the gap and finding himself within melee range is just as much pleasure to the Chuunin's preferred methods of combat.
Stealth [Apprentice]
"Know when to speak. Know when to listen. Know when to vanish."
It was stated that Asura stands out from those around him. Make no mistake, however: Asura also shares an intimate relationship with deception and vanishing when necessary. It was the shadows that protected him from an abuse that would have killed him, an exterior that smiled or laughed to keep him from showing the devil behind the mask. Though tall and with distinguishable features, Asura is skilled at concealment and hiding in plain sight or within the confusions of crowds. Seldom does Asura outright reveal his motives, his intent. Perhaps a twisted game of "cat and mouse", one must never stray from the caution of relationship with Asura.
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