Kenpachirou

The younger trainees at the lakeside grounds will tell you Kenpachirou's eyes weren't always like that. They remember a chimp of placid discipline, whose movements were as calm as the winter water they trained beside. But the final trial for their yellow bandana wasn't a duel against a peer; it was a solo meditation vigil near one of the pale trees that ward the hidden gateways. They returned three days later, silent, with the bandana tied perfectly. Something else returned with them. A frantic, joyful energy now flickers behind their poker face, a wildness their sparring partners feel in the sudden, unpredictable force of their strikes. The tranquility is no longer their nature; it is the leash.