Kiske Higikata

Kiske was born a humble Japanese boy in a small village, located in the mountains of Japan. His father and mother were monks, and they lived off of the nature around them alongside their large and happy family. His clan all together was very small, being raised around a population of well less than three-hundred. But, regardless the people were happy; content with their lives as they were. Kiske spent most of his youth learning from his peers, becoming everyone’s favorite little village explorer.

As a kid he began learning martial arts and weapon training from his father, but not in a form of combat, and more in a form of spirituality and training discipline. The boy became fascinated, even obsessed with learning new forms and practicing them relentlessly. His father and mother would have to yell at him to return home. The boy became completely engulfed in the craft. His father and mother were quite proud of him, as were the locals.

As the boy reached his teenage years, he had already become a master of his craft. After years of diligent work, the boy had improved nicely. The harsh conditions of the mountain and daily training regimen transformed him into a rather attractive young man. His crimson red eyes constantly bleed life into the outside world. His long, silky black hair flowed behind him uncut. The boy was on his merry way to becoming quite the respectable man, making his family very proud.

When he turned 16, though. His whole entire life changed in a single day. Helicopters flew over the mountain ranges, pushing and pulling the leaves off of the luscious trees that surround their village. The boy had never looked upon such a machine before, being the only villager that was born and raised solely in the village. He could not help but gawk at the giant metal bird, believing it to be a god. But, that mesmerizing look did not hold for long.

The Japanese government passed an act a few weeks before the arrival of the militants, an act that disallowed remote villages to act independently inside the country borders. Long story short, if you’re in Japan, you have to follow their rules. Kiske was confused, political arguments about things and topics he’s never heard before being argued about between the villagers and the militants. He was scared. They wanted them to leave, to relocate. They were not allowed to be out here on their own any longer? But, this is all the boy knows. Kiske’s parents were not happy with this, standing their ground against the aggressors, demanding they leave. If only they did…

That day Kiske’s family and village was slaughtered, his home burned down, his forest left in ruin. Kiske attempted to fight for his home, alongside his father.Though Kiske had never experienced a firearm before in his life, his battle ended rather quickly. He watched in anguish as people were taken by force like prisoners, and those who resisted were promptly cut down, including his own parents. He laid, bleeding from a hefty bullet wound, cursing at the sky and crying out in a fit of rage. And, as his vision begins to fade, one of the captains of the militants standing over him says something he can barely hear. “Why let this talent go to waste?”.
He was taken back to the GPA headquarters in America, or the Global Protection Agency, where the operatives there took the boy in. At first he was violent, angry, and traumatized. He wanted revenge for his family, he wanted to right the wrong doings done unto his clan, his people. But, when it came to the truth, he knew very little. Over the course of days, operatives of the GPA would enter his room and leave him small offerings of peace until he was willing to properly speak to them. After some time, Kiske had lost the energy to hate, letting the feeling of grief fully set in as he silently, and solemnly grieved the loss of his loved ones. He agreed to speak to a GPA operative shortly after reaching the grievance stage.


A few weeks after the death of his parents, and the imprisonment of his people, he sets up for a formal conversation with the culprits. His anger was still evidently there, but he was determined to hear what they had to say for themselves. He learned many things during his first ever talk with the GPA. They showed him records, files, piles upon piles of proof against his family. He learned that his parents formed an occult like following before his birth, leading a group of specifically manipulated psycho paths into the mountains where they could indulge in each other’s madness. Things that seemed normal to the boy, becoming evidently more bone chilling to him as he took in all of this info. His father was a runaway gangster, his mother, a serial killer. Amongst other criminals and convicts, he wasn’t raised by a single decent human being. All the skills he learned as a child, the hunting, the dissecting, the martial arts, and even the weapons his father taught him to use. Were not “traditional” to the clan, but the very skills these criminals honed before even relocating to the mountains.

Kiske had had his entire world torn apart, no education, no proof of existence. Not even a damn birth certificate. He was completely born off grid. None of this sat right with him, and he spent the next few months of his life living as a sudo-prisoner to the GPA. But, one day the director of the GPA extended him an offer. His voice seemed awfully familiar to Kiske for some reason. “Why not use what you’ve learned to help people rather than sulk in that cell.” Those words resonated in Kiske, and ever since that day Kiske became a GPA operative set on making a positive impact on the world.

Now, in the present. Kiske stands as a command ranking officer in the GPA after only eight years in service to them. He has regained his confidence and conviction. The gleam to his crimson red eyes beaming with life and courage once more. He has become an amazing leader, and a very compassionate person.