Nascence.

[★ tohaku]

nas•cent |ˈnāsənt, ˈnasənt|
adjective
(esp. of a process or organization) just coming into existence and beginning to display signs of future potential: the nascent space industry.
• Chemistry (chiefly of hydrogen) freshly generated in a reactive form.

MANY YEARS AGO. . .

The Land of Rice. That is where this chapter of our story ends. But, you may ask, where did it begin? Well, if you were to look past the poppy fields of Ta no Kuni, past the roiling ocean of leaves occupying the forests of Hi no Kuni, and through the steam-filled mountains of a land popular for its hot springs, you'll find the small country of Uzu no Kuni-- the Land of Whirlpools. This, my friend, is where the tale of Tohaku Toranami begins. And, as is foretold by the soothsayers of Kumogakure no Sato, where it will ultimately end. For the saying-- "from the dust you came, and to dust you shall return"-- isn't quite too different from a saying those from Uzu no Kuni speak:

"The might of the whirlpool prevails over the might of man."

. . .

Tohaku Toranami wasn't born with the name he bears now. No, he was born with a much more... extravagant designation. His father was a chieftain in the hidden village once known as Uzushiogakure, and his mother, a nobleman's daughter. However, what many would have expected to be a childhood filled with privilege, riches, and care, was anything but. Born on the eve of a massive, death-devouring war, the dark-eyed boy was actually unfortunate to have been born into a family of such nobility at that time. Plagued with the financial burdens that came with supplying weapons and armor towards war, Uzushiogakure claimed all of the assets of both wealthy and poor.

Beggars dined with dethroned lords and ladies, children fought for scraps in the alleyways, and father's killed to keep their families fed. It soon came to pass, however, that no more food remained. No more money to bolster the war effort. And, in regards to the civilians of Uzushiogakure, no more patience to give. In certain parts of the country, men and women killed and fed off of each other's flesh. And he was only nine. Nine years old-- when he watched his parents being torn to pieces, screaming in agony as the bony and hungry masses swarmed over them, a gathering of arms, and slashing, and ripped flesh, and sprays of dark red blood painting their pale bodies with haphazard patterns. Mouths chewing with such an awful sound.