Background
Yumichika Ayasegawa was a fighter, not a lover. If he knew one thing about life, it was that he had to fend for himself. Nothing came for free, and no one was going to hold his hand if he happened to get into trouble. So, he took care of himself-and only himself. Anything he ever did was done with the intention of bettering himself or his situation. The people in his life came and went, and he didn’t mind one bit. His only goal was to keep himself happy and satisfied; anything else was simply secondary.
His lessons in self-preservation began when his parents died of carbon-monoxide poisoning on his fifth birthday. There was much debate as to whether their deaths were suicides or not, since they were both healthy and had died in the comfort of their own home. In the end, the law had decided that they had simply forgotten to open the garage door after starting their car, making their untimely deaths purely accidental. Yumi wasn’t quite sure what he felt about it at the time-he barely had a moment to think before he was pulled from his home and put in a strict Catholic orphanage.
Life at the orphanage definitely played a part in shaping Yumi into the man he would later become. When he wasn’t being harassed by the nuns, he was being beaten up by the older boys in the house. His pretty face and delicate frame made him the perfect target, and he had to hide out completely or risk a broken rib or a split lip. It wasn’t long before he decided that he either had to learn how to protect himself or end up deformed from all of the beatings. Since hideous battle scars were not an option, he made it his mission to become a strong and capable fighter.
His quest to learn how to defend himself led him to many different types of martial arts. It soon became an obsession. He was fascinated by the violence-he loved the sense of power that he felt while fighting. The rush that he experienced while aware that he could easily hurt, maybe even kill someone, was extremely addicting. Tae Kwon Do, Aikido, Kung Fu, Kendo… they all possessed something that he found incredibly alluring: the skills it took to force another person into that intriguing limbo between life and death. He took the things he learned and crafted them into his own art-one that was particularly graceful and beautiful. Fighting was great, but it was useless to him if he didn’t look good doing it.
When Yumi was finally old enough to leave the orphanage, he set out to find a job that would help him further his fighting skills. After a week of searching, he came across a dojo owned by one of the fiercest men that he had ever met, Zaraki Kenpachi. Yumi developed a sense of respect for the burly man after speaking with him for just a few short minutes. He started working there within the next few days.
Although working at the dojo gave him the means to keep a roof over his head and food in his stomach, Yumi still wanted some sort of career. He picked up a few general courses at the City College of New York, unsure of what direction he wanted to go in life. One day, someone at the dojo mentioned that the NYPD was in need of a physical combat trainer. Physical combat-well, that was right up his alley. He wasted no time in filling out an application and taking the various tests that he needed to pass in order to become one of New York’s ‘elite’ officers.
The police academy had been a breeze. He was pretty intelligent, and had passed the written exams without any difficulty. The physical training had seemed like a mere warm up, compared to the vigorous training he was used to. Within months he had received a (somewhat ugly) uniform and a brand new, shiny badge.
Yumichika never really got used to calling himself a cop. He viewed his title as a way to get what he needed-his badge had a handy little way of being useful when he found himself in certain situations. What he really liked about his job, however, was whipping the strapping young recruits who came through the academy into top shape. It always amused him to see their reactions when a ‘Nance’ like himself pinned them to the floor in two or three graceful moves.
Joining the NYPD introduced him to another interesting aspect of combat-firearms. He picked up a shooting hobby, and indulged in it as often as he could. The hobby soon became another obsession, and he made it his mission to learn about and collect many different types of guns. His research on the subject led him to becoming pretty keen when it came to weapons, and it wasn’t long before he picked up the job of firearms instructor, as well.
Life for Yumichika was pretty good. During the day, he had the opportunity to work with and train dozens of recruits that were just begging for his instruction. His evenings and weekends were spent at the dojo, sparring with all of the handsome men who happened to wander in. Fighting was firmly entrenched in every aspect of his life-work and play. He really wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Of course, even someone as busy as Yumichika managed to find some free time. When he wasn’t working, he was scouring the town for new hot spots. He loved jazz and drinking, especially when they were combined. His late nights were often spent in little clubs or crowded bars. Although he wasn’t a big fan of meaningless relationships, he did have a taste for being social whenever he could. The club setting gave him the opportunity to flaunt his beautiful physique without necessarily having to get up close and personal with anyone of an unsavory nature.
He continued to go through life with one purpose-his own gratification. If he was happy, then life was grand. If not… well, people tended to learn to stay away from him if he was in a bad mood. He definitely wasn’t opposed to letting someone know when he wasn’t pleased. ‘Letting them know’ often included a roll of the eyes, a sarcastic comment, and one hell of a left hook. While some might have called him finicky, vain, or self-centered, he simply referred to himself as a fighter… not a lover.
His lessons in self-preservation began when his parents died of carbon-monoxide poisoning on his fifth birthday. There was much debate as to whether their deaths were suicides or not, since they were both healthy and had died in the comfort of their own home. In the end, the law had decided that they had simply forgotten to open the garage door after starting their car, making their untimely deaths purely accidental. Yumi wasn’t quite sure what he felt about it at the time-he barely had a moment to think before he was pulled from his home and put in a strict Catholic orphanage.
Life at the orphanage definitely played a part in shaping Yumi into the man he would later become. When he wasn’t being harassed by the nuns, he was being beaten up by the older boys in the house. His pretty face and delicate frame made him the perfect target, and he had to hide out completely or risk a broken rib or a split lip. It wasn’t long before he decided that he either had to learn how to protect himself or end up deformed from all of the beatings. Since hideous battle scars were not an option, he made it his mission to become a strong and capable fighter.
His quest to learn how to defend himself led him to many different types of martial arts. It soon became an obsession. He was fascinated by the violence-he loved the sense of power that he felt while fighting. The rush that he experienced while aware that he could easily hurt, maybe even kill someone, was extremely addicting. Tae Kwon Do, Aikido, Kung Fu, Kendo… they all possessed something that he found incredibly alluring: the skills it took to force another person into that intriguing limbo between life and death. He took the things he learned and crafted them into his own art-one that was particularly graceful and beautiful. Fighting was great, but it was useless to him if he didn’t look good doing it.
When Yumi was finally old enough to leave the orphanage, he set out to find a job that would help him further his fighting skills. After a week of searching, he came across a dojo owned by one of the fiercest men that he had ever met, Zaraki Kenpachi. Yumi developed a sense of respect for the burly man after speaking with him for just a few short minutes. He started working there within the next few days.
Although working at the dojo gave him the means to keep a roof over his head and food in his stomach, Yumi still wanted some sort of career. He picked up a few general courses at the City College of New York, unsure of what direction he wanted to go in life. One day, someone at the dojo mentioned that the NYPD was in need of a physical combat trainer. Physical combat-well, that was right up his alley. He wasted no time in filling out an application and taking the various tests that he needed to pass in order to become one of New York’s ‘elite’ officers.
The police academy had been a breeze. He was pretty intelligent, and had passed the written exams without any difficulty. The physical training had seemed like a mere warm up, compared to the vigorous training he was used to. Within months he had received a (somewhat ugly) uniform and a brand new, shiny badge.
Yumichika never really got used to calling himself a cop. He viewed his title as a way to get what he needed-his badge had a handy little way of being useful when he found himself in certain situations. What he really liked about his job, however, was whipping the strapping young recruits who came through the academy into top shape. It always amused him to see their reactions when a ‘Nance’ like himself pinned them to the floor in two or three graceful moves.
Joining the NYPD introduced him to another interesting aspect of combat-firearms. He picked up a shooting hobby, and indulged in it as often as he could. The hobby soon became another obsession, and he made it his mission to learn about and collect many different types of guns. His research on the subject led him to becoming pretty keen when it came to weapons, and it wasn’t long before he picked up the job of firearms instructor, as well.
Life for Yumichika was pretty good. During the day, he had the opportunity to work with and train dozens of recruits that were just begging for his instruction. His evenings and weekends were spent at the dojo, sparring with all of the handsome men who happened to wander in. Fighting was firmly entrenched in every aspect of his life-work and play. He really wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Of course, even someone as busy as Yumichika managed to find some free time. When he wasn’t working, he was scouring the town for new hot spots. He loved jazz and drinking, especially when they were combined. His late nights were often spent in little clubs or crowded bars. Although he wasn’t a big fan of meaningless relationships, he did have a taste for being social whenever he could. The club setting gave him the opportunity to flaunt his beautiful physique without necessarily having to get up close and personal with anyone of an unsavory nature.
He continued to go through life with one purpose-his own gratification. If he was happy, then life was grand. If not… well, people tended to learn to stay away from him if he was in a bad mood. He definitely wasn’t opposed to letting someone know when he wasn’t pleased. ‘Letting them know’ often included a roll of the eyes, a sarcastic comment, and one hell of a left hook. While some might have called him finicky, vain, or self-centered, he simply referred to himself as a fighter… not a lover.