Watanabe Hotaru
Art (c) StargazerRiga (me)
Birthplace Land of Earth
Birthdate 6/20/3
Gender Female
Age 10
Height 4' 6"
Weight 65
Blood Type O+
Kekkei Genkai Dragon's Blood Transformations
Classification Genin
Areas of Expertise Ninjutsu
Clan Watanabe
Affiliation Iwagakure
Team N/A
Ninja Rank Student
Genin-Equivalent Age 9
Chuunin-Equivalent Age N/A
Nature Type
Element (Affinity) Fire Manipulation
Element (Secondary) Water Manipulation
Element (Tertiary) Wind Manipulation
Father Watanabe Kohaku
Signature Jutsu
Running Fire + Dragon Technique used together = Furnace Fire Technique

“What do you mean there is nothing you can do to help her?” An unusually angry sounding voice calls out. The atmosphere of the room could not be more strained. “I’ve given you half a fortune to fix the problem, and you continue to tell me that no jutsu has been created that could possible fix the problem? None. No possibility of creating one? You insult me. I’ll have your head! I know the Tsuchikage. I’ll make sure you are sent to the fissure!” This was the voice of Hotaru’s father, Watanabe Kohaku, a wealthy land-owner whom was a toukubetsu jounin of Iwagakure, retired. In a room colored in such a way that it would promote calm feelings, Hotaru’s father was enraged. He was a Taijutsu specialist. He could shatter small mountains with his taijutsu if he wished. Yet, here he was, standing in a room with his young daughter, not even six years of age yet he already knows that her life was over. At least, his ability to ensure her a good life as a strong and fit shinobi was over.
A little girl, head blanketed in long azure hair, sit over in the corner, having crawled there using her hands. The expensive looking outfit she wore could not hide what was wrong with her. It was clear. Her leg muscles looked incredibly atrophied. She was crippled. She could not walk. Her legs could move, but only just barely. Hotaru was suffering from a rare disease, so rare and complicated that not even the greatest medical ninja of Iwagakure could help her. A disease that wastes the muscles of the leg. The girl’s golden eyes were wide with fear, pupils thinning from almonds to slits as her father yelled at the medic-nin with fury only a Watanabe could manage. Her career as a Shinobi was effectively ended at birth, thanks to this disease. The medic-nin raised his hands to calm Kohaku down, “Sir, please. She will be able to walk with traini-“ The Medic-nin was grabbed by the collar and lifted by the angry Watanabe father. “YOU FOOL! SHE CANNOT INHERIT MY TAIJUTSU LIKE THIS! SHE IS DONE!” The impressively-strong Watanabe throws the medic-nin against some of the equipment he was using, before he broke down onto his knees. “It doesn’t even bother me, that she cannot learn Taijutsu… No, that’s not it.” The man breaks down, crying. “It’s more than that, you fool. She will be restricted to a life not worthy of our clan. Crippled and doing menial and unfulfilling tasks for her life for what? What kind of life is that?” The father was stricken with grief…
Hotaru spent much of her early life, as far as she can remember, in the safety of a stone-brick manor near the center of Iwagakure. She lived mere miles from the academy proper. Her eyes always stared at the children playing after class with envy, and every time she would fall into a depression. What good was she if she could not run like the other children? She hated reading, and after a while, even playing shogi with her father or the servants of the house-hold was boring. She was having trouble losing, which proves how much time she spent playing. She could only bother herself with her looks for so long before it felt like there was no point in doing so if she could never go outside to show herself off. She so desperately wanted to become a part of the crowd. She was a beautiful girl, with exotic cuteness as she had been told many times before. Yet, what good is a shining jewel of impossible brilliance when it is stowed safely away in the dark?
Hotaru spent many hours since she was the small age of six training her legs to walk. Day in and day out, much to her father’s pride, she would work here muscles as much as she could, to the sheer point of exhaustion. No matter how much she tried, she could never do more than limp across the floor for a few seconds before collapsing. When she turned seven, she was finally able to keep her balance after a year of intense struggle. At this point she knew she was ready. She was going outside to play with children like her for the first time in her life. With a wooden stick, and without her father’s permission, she walked over towards the academy during a recess period with a great smile on her face. Step-by-step she walked with her goal almost in reach. A few kids playing tag would stop, and ask her the question she desired to be asked. “Hey, I’ve never seen you around. Wanna play tag?” The words, when they reached her ears, sounded like wealth that her entire family could not have provided even if they had all the ryo in the world. She smiled, and opened her mouth to speak. “Y-yes! I want to play tag!” The words sounded so awkward to her. What was tag? She didn’t even know… Yet, things turned grim soon enough. “Hey, isn’t that the creepy girl who stares out her window all day? Lame. I don’t really want to play with her anymore.” Soon other kids inclined to side with this one outspoken individual. “Yeah, I don’t really think she’d play tag well. Look at her. She can’t even walk! What’s the matter, too stupid to know how to walk?” It was then that her hopes were crushed. The entire group laughed at her pain, the one thing she worked so hard to accomplish was still out of her reach. Tears welled up in her eyes, as the group of students moved off. She even tried to follow them. Limping towards the group oh so steadily, she wasn’t aware that the stick she was using wasn’t meant to hold her weight. Just before she made it to the little club-house the children were playing tag at, her stick failed her. She fell to the ground in a heap, a crying mess. In the distance she could hear them laughing.
For a moment, she honestly considered resigning herself to her fate as someone to fall into obscurity. Yet, she was a privileged ‘noble’. Her father always told her that aggressiveness is the best way to act in all forms. That if you want something bad enough, you will take it. Her fear of failure turned into hate. Her hate turned into anger. In her mind, she channeled this anger to the very core of her being. Her blood reacted thusly. “If I can’t play tag…” Hotaru yelled, young flames already charring her mouth… “YOU can’t play EITHER!” Without hand-seals or knowledge of ninjutsu at all, a short burst of flame escaped her mouth. The children scattered as their ‘club house’ ignited and burned down… She had performed a basic-level ninjutsu she had never even seen used before, to great effect…
She was retrieved by an academy shinobi, and returned to her manor. Given her age, there was little they could do for open assault against academy students. Yet, her show of mastery made it so that she was labeled as a genius. She was tested by the academy personnel to be shown having almost completely perfect control of the flow of her chakra.
The Gods cursed her with barely being able to walk. She will never truly learn to be fast on her feet, to kick with resolve, or to drop into a stance to fight with all of her strength, and yet while the gods can be cruel and unmerciful, they can also be just. She has the potential to become a ninja in a different sort of way, through intellect and complete chakra control she could grow to be a master of ninjutsu. From the time her mishap at the playground until her initiation at the academy, she has been heavily trained in the limited Ninjutsu her father knows, which she has picked up with relative ease.
Hotaru was born on the summer solstice, the twentieth of June to Watanabe Kohaku and Satzonetsu Miku. She was born with a crippling disease in her legs that destroyed any hope of her carrying on her father’s legacy. She is specifically a member of the Black House of the Watanabe clan, also known as Fukurokuju. She now waits for a chance to see if the academy will accept her, give her a chance to become a ninja and hopefully someday find ‘Nakama’. She wishes real friends to embrace her despite her faults.


Hotaru grew up with little social interaction outside of her house, and had a father whom was passionate and flew into frequent outrages behind closed doors. As a result, she has inherited a temper that comes out if she is pushed too far. Otherwise, she could be seen as any other social noble girl. Quiet and awkward until an issue she is familiar on is presented, in which she will attempt to prove to you that she is an expert on the subject. She tends to treat others as equals, most of the time. She has no favorite foods, as any food that could be acquired in Iwagakure has long since become boring to her. She can play shogi rather well, but tends to gravitate to wanting to do more physical activities despite her withered leg musculature. She has a cane that her father presented to her after she ventured out her first time, forged by the Murasame clan using the most sturdy and light materials possible. It’s nearly indestructible, to keep it from being destroyed.

Hotaru appears to barely stand before you at 4'4", being slightly tall for her age. Nevertheless, it is clear even through the clothing she wears that her muscles clearly haven't caught up with her height. She looks rather lanky, due to this. Nevertheless she has brilliant azure hair, and sharp yellow eyes that are almost golden. Her eyes are slitted like those of the dragon-blooded Watanabe, giving clear direction to her clan heritage. Her hair is very long, and well kept, reaching her ankles. She appears more pale than usual, as if sheltered from the sun often.

Hotaru Is wearing a long-sleeved blue jacket with the Watanabe clan Fukurokuju branch symbol etched into the back of the jacket with a black shirt underneath. The black shirt is tucked into a pair of loose blue Hakama pants, with sandals and tabi upon her feet to finish. She wears a fire-resistant rust-red hooded cloak tied snugly upon her by a cord. She also appears to be leaning her weight upon a dark-red metal cane, etched with the Murasame clan symbol.



Month of September 2016

The Clocktower - The Foundation
In the final years of my life, I have finally begun to construct the beacon of Iwagakure. The Clock Tower. I am not actually constructing it, however. Though I'm spending nearly all of my fortune upon it. The tower is a beacon of unity of the clans that have used their abilities to create it. The Toujitakumi, tasked with clearing the foundation and decorating the final result. The Murasame, to create the foundation, and the supporting structure with their metal release capabilities. The Sasaki, to create the walls and facades… Yet, there is a secondary reason the tower exists now. It is a beacon of friendship between Kirigakure and Iwagakure. Why? Doihara Ishino waived the sum of money I planned to pay him, and promised to create the clock mechanism for free. Now this tower is a symbol of so much more than I had planned. My mother must be proud from her resting place in heaven.
Dragon's Guard
My evolution, built upon my Watanabe blood, has increased to the point that I can transcend the human experience. All Watanabe strive to reach that pivotal point in which their blood fully expresses itself to that of a dragon. I, too, have found that power. Perhaps it is because I accepted my death. Even though soon I set out to find medicine that could extend my life, or cure me of my disease, I know that I am going to die. Yet, being moody about it only made those around me dislike me. I've accepted the end, and I'm prepared to meet my death when it comes. This resignation was the end of my human experience. Now I have reached the final part of my journey. The only thing left is to acquire my wings.
The Cure? Sunagakure Edition
I have made my way south, though things could have been a little easier for me. As soon as I had crossed the border, I was chased by raiders who knew my name and my father's wealth. I was separated from my escorts, and chased off to a ruin central to the Land of Wind. I tried to resolve things peacefully, but after they drew the first blood I had to act. Fortunately, a Sunagakure patrol was there. They quite possibly saved my life, and I owe them everything. Nevertheless, I lost my precious cane in that skirmish. Now my time will be spent looking for it at pawnshops.
Mold fire chakra into my mouth, and expel it quickly. I could burn the inside of my mouth if I'm not careful. That's the basis of many fire release techniques, except for one. The Flametongue. This is a sword forged in fire, created from fire. Shaping fire chakra into a dense form within my mouth, and using the tenketsu of my mouth to pound it into a solid form. Solid fire, expelled at high velocity. Once out of my mouth, however, the chakra cannot hold itself. It can penetrate barriers easily, but once it has the ultra-condensed chakra cannot contain itself. This results in an explosion of flame of unprecedented power, which scars the earth it strikes. My most powerful technique.




My Art Gallery for Hotaru. All art done by me, StargazerRiga (Deviant Art)

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