Saeki, Shoyu
佐伯 小優
"Saeki the Little Kindness"
SHINIGAMI
6th Seat/5th Division
謙受益 滿招損 “Benefit goes to the humble, while failure awaits the arrogant.”
Personnel File
Nickname: Tonton (a playful nickname immitating the sound of a pig)
Age: 188
Birthday: June 15, 1175
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Chinese
Physical Specifications
Height and Weight: 182cm/72kg
Eyes: Ice blue with a noticeable spiderweb pattern of crimson blood vessels
Hair: Long with a snow-white color fading just before the roots into silvery gray
General Appearance: Saeki Shoyu is a tall slender man with the appearance of someone around the age of 26. He has sharp features including a cut jawline leading down in a slim but strong chin. His hair is an unnatural snow-white leading into silvery gray roots. This stands in strong contrast to his preferred flowing Crimson 深衣 (Shenyi; “Deep Garment”). Saeki Shoyu has surprisingly well-cut musculature in spite of his slender profile.
Psychological Profile
Saeki Shoyu has a very reserved, almost meek, countenance, but make no mistake: there is a quiet ferocity behind this demeanor. He is conflict averse, only choosing to fight out of duty or absolute necessity and strives to end these situations without lethal force. He has very little aspiration beyond the drive to attain a quiet life free from want or obligation; however, he is willing to compromise on his general philosophy and ethics to protect this end from a mortal threat.
Likes
- Quiet contemplation
- Those who strive to avoid unnecessary conflict
- Meditation through martial training
- Quality tea
Dislikes
- Arrogance
- Malcontents
- Direct conflict
- Excessive work or responsibilities
Strengths
- Capable negotiator
- Extremely slow to anger
- Skilled, even if reluctant, combatant
- Unmatched ferocity when pushed to the brink
Weaknesses
- Will hold back so long as he believes there is potential for a peaceful resolution
- Can be underhanded if it guarantees he can accomplish his life goals
- Lack of aspiration means he is unlikely to challenge for or even accept high positions regardless of his qualification unless he believes it would guarantee the accomplishment of his life goals
- He will often shirk smaller responsibilities if he feels they are interrupting his time for quiet contemplation and meditation
Documented History
Prologue
My mother has long told me stories of my ancient ancestor, a man known as the Blood Dragon of Ming. A warrior with no equal who was said to be a relative of the Emperors who founded the state of Qin. His skill with the sword and hand saw countless foes of the other kingdoms of the Warring States period cut down mercilessly with a quiet ferocity evocative of the dragons of ancient myth. Before he eventually retired to relative obscurity somewhere among the fertile soil by the Yangtze River. It was said in a single night he turned a larger opposing force by single handedly cutting down one-hundred foes with his blade.
The general of the opposing army heard the story, how the battle had begun as an ambush but the people of the opposing state, seeing the size of their enemy, had begun to retreat. How Saeki had remained firm. How he cut 6 foes down with his first strike. How after many hours and 50 enemies lay lifeless before him his blade had snapped. How he fought to exhaustion with the broken blade to the 70th man where he could hardly stand without leaning on a spear he had retrieved from the fallen. She tells me the enemy, seeing him in his weakest moment, came to fight him without honor ten at a time. Seeing their dishonor, he would be blessed by the Buddha to roar back like a dragon, his own blood reforming the blade as he cut down each group to the 100th man before the remaining force fled in fear. The general, believing this to be fabrication, called parley to challenge Saeki which he would accept. The day came where the two men would face each other down. When Saeki drew his sword, broken and still stained deep crimson with blood, the general already knew he was beaten and reserved himself to his fate. Saeki would sheath his dreadful blade and leave the man before him to his defeat.
The steam rising from tea with color like iron begins to wane as my re-telling of the story ends. The well-dressed patron of this high-end tea house seems pleased with the grandiose nationalism of this story as they put the cup to their lips. As always, the story ends with perfect timing for the tea to reach drinking temperature, and I beam with pride as they seem satisfied with the cup I prepared. Still, I find my joy poisoned with unavoidable feelings of jealousy and longing. I do not covet the status and position of the noble patron before me, but instead I yearn for mastership of the tea they now drink. Serving tea is a poor substitute for the simple pleasure of growing tea on one’s own land. How I long to till the rich soil, to plant the finest shrubs, to pluck the soft leaves from their branches. What I would pay to have the privilege of stoking the wood fire and drying them. The inner peace I would feel if I were only able to roll each by hand to be packed and pressed.
The customer finishes their cup and leaves me a generous nod for my work. I return a deep bow in appreciation for their patronage before removing the cup from before them so they may relax. The clash of dishes brings me back to the clash of blades from the story of my ancestor. Why is it that those who desire peace must first resign themselves to conflict? This story is not one my mother teaches me because of filial piety, but one to scold me for not showing enough ferocity for the pride of the nation. She doesn’t wish for me to be a meek tea-grower, but a fearsome warrior in the standards of today.
“How Ironic,” I think to myself.
She tells the story of my ancestor that was related by the general who surrendered, but my great-grandfather always told me a different story. One passed in whisper among the men of the family. The story of the real Saeki. Not a man of wealth and ferocity, but a man of peace and faith. A man who only fought for the promise of five fertile fields in which to grow rapeseed flowers. Saeki did not kill one-hundred men in one night. In fact, he did not kill even one during that day’s battle because long before he had vowed to kill no one. The General, my grandfather would tell me, met Saeki on the battlefield as two of the only soldiers still standing after a two-sided slaughter. He was defeated in self-defense by the man whose only desire was to survive, and when he wasn’t killed, he had to formulate an elaborate story in hopes that his life would be spared the cowardice of his defeat. This story became fable: a weapon measured not by the lives it took, but by the warriors cowed beneath the weight of its telling. Saeki eventually had his five fields of flowers, but once his legend spread further it was deemed dangerous. He was assassinated on the very land his legend had bought him.
I do not wish to see the same fate, but without conflict I fear my meager earnings will never be more than a pittance against the price of land ownership. A generous nod cannot be weighed against the cost of a single shrub. Satisfaction cannot buy the pan used to dry the leaves, nor even the wood burned to heat the pan. It is for this reason that I find myself entangled in the smuggling of Opium. The risk is great, but it’s reward may see the dream realized in my lifetime. I leave the tea shop for another place to meet the man for whom I run Opium, but when I enter, I find only a blade in my back and a pool of my own blood in which to drown.
Relevant Background
When Saeki's eyes opened after his mortal death, he found himself in Rukongai. He was initially disoriented and bewildered by this unfamiliar realm, yet with time he was able to come to terms with this new existence. Saeki then attempted to lead an ascetic lifestyle and reflect on the mistakes of his mortal life; however, as memories of the past life inevitably faded, he was left in poverty trying to mend flaws he no longer remembered. Slowly, his will to continue like this slipped from his fingers and he began to hear echoes of a darker will tempting him to reach for a better life: the shard of his soul that he tried to bury awakened. Eventually his capability caught the notice of the Gotei 13, and the promise of stability led him to the first great compromise of his afterlife as he joined the Shino'o academy.
He graduated the academy and, despite his disinterest in the pursuit of power and his quiet disdain for the militaristic side of the Gotei 13, he was able to manifest his Zanpakuto's spirit and eventually attain his Shikai. He was not particularly eager for the responsibilities that came with his new role in the 5th division but accepted anyways understanding it as a necessary compromise for the sake of a peaceful afterlife. Eventually he fell into a comfortable rhythm and found plenty of time for contemplation between his duties. Then, calamity struck. As the Black Death ravaged the World of the Living, Saeki found his relatively peaceful existence in the Seireitei shattered. It demanded every bit of his power, forcing him to confront both his own potential and the realities of the Gotei 13's mission.
In addition to this crisis, a new invention surfaced: the Asauchi. Although Saeki did not openly object to this seemingly essential evolution of tradition, he saw it as an unwanted challenge to his cultivated lifestyle. His fear was that Asauchi would expedite the rise of new Shinigami, fostering competition for positions. This would mean ever more work would be required to maintain the status quo and a growing risk that his capabilities would attract the attention of those whom he would rather not impress. Saeki's growing resentment for those benefitting from this technology, and their rapid ascension through the ranks, serves as a potent pressure point for Xue Long to expose Saeki's darker tendencies.