|Birthplace||Land of Rain|
|Areas of Expertise||Espionage|
There’s rarely been a breath spoken of Kasuya’s past. No family, no origin, no identity. The only thing certain is that Kasuya threw her wandering days behind her when she joined Kumogakure. She meant to join the ranks as a much needed genjutsuist amidst the swordsmen and lightning practitioners. What she did not expect was that overtime the rowdy bunch atop the mountain began to thaw some of her frozen demeanor. Though she still has a bit of an outsider’s perspective, she now counts herself as a Kumo shinobi.
Kasuya's nature has always been defined by her dreams. Ever since a small age she's had dreams of horrifying violence, the kind that would make a normal person unable to sleep. For that reason, she's always gotten too little sleep and has a bottomless darkness in her heart.
However, that's who she is, but she chooses what she does. Despite her nature or perhaps because of it Kasuya understands the value of life, and is just as likely to help someone as harm them. She picks and chooses her masters, and has moved to Kumogakure largely due to the lack of intrigue and corruption in their nature. She's proven to be loyal to the village, albeit with little patience for becoming "one of the crowd."
Hair as dark as pitch seems to drink in the light. It falls in jagged locks around her face. It's shaggy as a mane, but held down in place by strips of cloth that crisscross through her hair like a mummy's bandages coming unraveled. Under dark brows are navy blue eyes. They seem like shadows on water, and there are dark bags under them as if from lack of sleep. Yet she moves with a certain precision that's not lessened by her eternal state of dilated eyes and wan skin.
Kasuya is a lean woman of twenty or so. Long legs, high chest, the sort one would expect of a hardened shinobi. She wears a tanktop with a turtleneck collar. Her pants billow out loosely to merge into a skirt, only visible as leggings when she takes a wider stance. Instead of shinobi shoes, she wears geta sandals of crimson, lacquered wood. The same wood that makes up the bracelets looped around her arms. Over this casual finery she wears a long robe that trails down to her knees. It's open like a jacket, with billowing sleeves and a sash that slants across her chest, to hold in place the blade on her back.
Welcome to the Nightmare by YukikoAMV
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