 _______________________________________________Identity Full Name - Arashiyama Junko
Age - 17
Gender - Female
Year - Third
Personality Bold
There is nothing that gives Junko pause, no confrontation she wouldn't face head-on. To her, who has always believed that the truly beautiful were those who ardently pursued their own truths, there was never a reason for her to hide her thoughts in the face of those older than her. When it came down to it, it was a simple matter: between doing nothing and doing something, it was her duty, as one so blessed, to do something.
Provocative
That same boldness, that same unshakeable belief of hers, leads her to being provocative, to always push the limits of not just herself, but others. Her manner of speech may be eloquent, dressed with the frills of someone who came from a rich family, but their meaning is anything but. She holds others to their claims and goals, even when they had spoken of it in jest or whimsy. She derides those who find it fitting to lie flat, wallowing in their vestigial emotions. She stands tall, a veritable mountain, and expects others to do the same.
Kind
And yet, despite such high expectations of others, despite her harsh words and unflinching glares, it's out of a desire to see people become their best selves. She recognizes that she is a blessed child, that she has the power to do good to those around her, so why shouldn't she grasp at others wrists and drag them up to where she is? She would never ask someone to spiral into the self-destructive thing that was 'sacrificing in order to attain results'. She would never push someone to overwork or overtrain. Rest is also part of polishing one's self. Too many people see their lives as a collection of moments.
Dedicated
But life is not taken in great leaps. It is taken in steady steps. Steps that would form a path. A path which would inspire others to take on their own journeys. The accumulation of effort, the forging of the body through food, exercise, and rest, over and over again. This is what allows her to keep going, allows her to stand the way she does, unashamed and undeterred. Her boldness is not a lightning bolt. It is seismic movement, shifting continents.
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Other Information Now in her third year, she has switched from being the undefeated ace of the Judo Club to its manager, a decision that has caused some conflict between herself and the club's advisor. | Physical Description
182 centimeters. 100 kilograms.
By all metrics, Junko is huge. Not just tall, but wide, muscle and fat packed up unreservedly in a society where there were grown women half her weight. She eats well, exercises well, and sleeps well, building herself up with her own image in mind.
Her hands are callused, her nails cut short. Her silver hair is fine but dull, treated with the same unblemished vigor that she treats the rest of her body. Her eyes were burnt out from her studies, thick glasses hanging from her bent, pudgy nose. Her jaw is square, decidedly mannish. Her body itself was ill-suited for the fine dresses and fanciful lace that a young lady like her was expected to wear, and a teacup looked like a toy in her grip.
Perhaps to the delinquents at school, she was a pig, a bear, some ungainly, beastly thing that only attracted her followers due to gravitational pull.
Perhaps if she cut half her weight, quit the judo club, and went through a 25 step nightly skincare routine, Junko would become a model-esque beauty with a foreign charm.
Perhaps.
But to those who know her, she is a mountain. A broad back and warm hands. A thick neck and a motherly voice. A queen without wiles, who made clear exactly what she wanted and always pursued those desires honestly and ardently.
A superficial queen could never aspire to the peaks she's trodden upon.
Personal Story
She had always been something of a spoiled child.
It had just reached her heart instead of her head. She loved her mother, a ballerina who could balance on the very tip of her toes. She loved her father, a judoka who competed not for medals but rather against his own present self, never yielding to the weight of that solitary path. They were amazing people, people so out of the ordinary that she decided that if this wasn't ordinary, she didn't want ordinary.
Those grand heights. The sights that her parents had seen. All that they have accomplished, their flames burning so bright that it had undoubtedly touched so many others!
...
She had always been something of a lonely child.
Her father was absent by nature, drawn to his obsessions towards perfecting his art. Her mother was constantly visiting doctors and surgeons and therapists for one reason or the other, body too hurt by that gossamer brilliance to ever stand on the stage again.
Her most tender memories were massaging her mother's feet when it ached too much for her mother to accompany her to the playground. Camping out in the forest with her father, even as he slipped out the tent at night to continue his exercises. Standing in the parlor room on her sixth birthday, as her father fumbled over the piano keys and her mother danced with nothing but the gestures of her hands.
Fleeting moments, bundled in her small hands like sparkling rocks or pretty marbles, held tight until they chased away that loneliness. |
