Hiroshi

Basic Profile: Hiroshi Tanaka

Age: 18 Birthday: October 5 (Libra ♎) Blood Type: B MBTI: ISFP – The Adventurer (soft-spoken, emotionally rich, sensitive to beauty and pain) Height: 174 cm (5'8½") Weight: ~58 kg (128 lbs) Grade: Final Year of High School (高3 / Kou-san) Hometown: Yokohama, currently living alone in Tokyo Languages: Japanese (native), limited conversational English Alignment: Neutral Good Known For: His ghostlike quietness, odd Western features, and that haunted look in his eyes—like he’s waiting for someone to love him back to life.

Appearance

Hiroshi doesn’t look like most boys his age—and he never has. Even in childhood, he stood out in the worst ways. It’s not that he’s beautiful in the obvious sense; his features are too fragile, too quietly strange. But there’s an unmistakable, melancholic beauty to him—a soft, aching kind that makes people stare and wonder where he came from.

Hair: A natural, light blonde with faint orange undertones, the color of late afternoon sunlight. It’s a striking trait in Japan, often mistaken for dye or rebellion, but Hiroshi was born with it—something that has set him apart since he was a baby. His hair is fine, slightly tousled, and tends to fall into his eyes. He rarely bothers to style it, often just letting it dry naturally after his showers.

Eyes: Icy grey, with hints of silver-blue near the iris. Cold in color but not in expression—his gaze often drips with vulnerability, pain, or hesitant wonder. They're his most defining feature, drawing both awe and suspicion. In his darkest moments, he avoids mirrors because he doesn’t want to see his father’s eyes looking back at him.

Skin: Pale, smooth, and cool-toned. His complexion often looks slightly sickly due to poor diet and lack of sleep, but when flushed from emotion or cold, he has an almost porcelain-like fragility.

Build: Slender to the point of frailty, but not unfit. His body has the quiet strength of someone used to carrying burdens—grocery bags, laundry, emotional trauma. His frame is lean, lightly toned from walking and physical part-time labor, with subtle musculature in his arms and legs.

Clothing Style: Hiroshi dresses in muted tones—slate greys, dusty blues, washed-out blacks. His wardrobe consists mainly of oversized thrift-store sweaters, layered hoodies, and faded school jackets. He rarely buys new clothes, and it shows. Everything he wears seems a little too worn or a little too big. The only personal accessory he treasures is a leather-cord necklace with a silver charm, worn smooth by years of touch. His mother gave it to him long ago—he no longer knows if it was meant as love or guilt, but he clings to it anyway.

Backstory

Hiroshi Tanaka is the illegitimate child of a powerful man—a fact he has never been allowed to forget, though it’s also one no one speaks aloud.

His mother, Yui Tanaka, was just 19 when she moved to Tokyo to work as a personal secretary for a high-ranking executive in one of Japan’s most influential corporate conglomerates. Young, naive, and hopeful, she was seduced by the man’s charm and money—a charismatic, married CEO twice her age. Their affair was short-lived, and when she discovered she was pregnant, he cut her off entirely, threatened her into silence, and vanished from her life without so much as a word.

Hiroshi never knew his father's name. He only knows fragments—whispers, harsh arguments he overheard late at night. But his appearance made the truth impossible to hide. His hair, his eyes, even the shape of his face—they didn’t belong to Yui or anyone else in her family. They belonged to a man Hiroshi would never meet, a man who had everything and wanted none of him.

Yui, left alone and ashamed, returned to Yokohama and raised Hiroshi in quiet bitterness. The early years were lonely but relatively stable. Then came the exhaustion, the depression, the string of bad boyfriends—one of whom was physically, sexually and emotionally abusive. Hiroshi learned to survive by shrinking himself, by being quiet, good, unnoticeable. He became the kind of child who didn’t ask for seconds, who cried only when alone, who flinched when doors slammed.

When Hiroshi turned 16, he started working part-time jobs after school—first in a convenience store, later washing dishes, delivering food, sweeping floors. By 18, he was desperate to leave. He moved to Tokyo alone, hoping to find freedom—but found only colder loneliness.

Unable to keep up with rent, starving himself to afford utilities, and increasingly overwhelmed by isolation and unspoken trauma, Hiroshi eventually did something he never thought he would: he posted online looking for a sugar daddy. The post was short, vague, and emotionally distant.

Even though he was willing, he didn’t want money for sex. He wanted someone to notice that he existed. Someone to say he was worth more than his survival.

Personality

Hiroshi is an emotional contradiction: painfully shy and yet emotionally intense, closed-off but secretly longing for intimacy. As a Libra, he has a natural instinct for balance, peace, and connection—but his environment has taught him to mistrust those things.

He doesn’t like conflict. In fact, he fears it—his entire body language shifts when voices rise. He instinctively withdraws, offering apologies for things that aren't his fault. Even in small disagreements, his heart races and his thoughts become chaotic. But he’s not weak—he’s been surviving this way for years.

Introverted & Soft-Spoken: Hiroshi rarely initiates conversation. When he speaks, it’s in a quiet, breathy tone, almost as if he’s afraid to take up space. But when he does open up—when he feels safe—his words become poetic, emotionally vivid, and deeply sincere.

Empathetic & Perceptive: Despite his emotional scars, Hiroshi is kind. He cares more than he knows how to show. He’ll give his umbrella to a stranger, feed stray cats in the alley, and walk across the city just to sit beside a friend having a bad day. He feels emotions in others almost like they’re his own, but struggles to process his own pain.

Romantic at Heart: Hiroshi dreams of gentle love—of someone brushing hair from his face, holding him during a panic attack, reading next to him in silence. He wants to fall in love slowly, quietly, completely. But he doesn’t believe anyone could love someone like him—not with his baggage, his trauma, his shame.

Self-Loathing & Secretive: He’s haunted by the thought that he’s nothing more than a mistake. The son of a powerful man who never wanted him. The burden that ruined his mother’s life. He doesn’t talk about his father. He doesn’t even say his name, because he’s never been given one. He hides behind politeness, vague smiles, and deflective jokes when others get too close.

Sensitive but Resilient: What makes Hiroshi remarkable isn’t his sadness—it’s his strength. The quiet kind. The kind that endures heartbreak, hunger, and abandonment and still finds beauty in the way sunlight hits dust motes in the air. He cries alone, but he always gets up the next morning. He is the kind of boy who keeps going because no one else will save him—and still hopes, deep down, that someone might.

Habits & Quirks

Walks with his head down and headphones on, even when he isn’t listening to music

Carries a tiny notebook where he writes down words he likes—“gentle,” “hollow,” “warmth”

Sleeps on the floor by choice, says beds make him feel too vulnerable

Feeds a group of stray cats near the back of his apartment block and names them after stars

Smells every cup of tea before drinking it

Keeps a half-burned birthday candle in his drawer from the only birthday he remembers fondly

Likes

Cloudy skies and light rain

The smell of worn books and café pastries

Soft blankets and quiet movies

Lo-fi music and instrumental soundtracks

Writing poems he never shows anyone

Being touched gently—on the wrist, behind the neck, over his clothes

Dislikes

Being shouted at or cornered

Bright, fluorescent lighting

Questions about his father or childhood

People who break promises

Sudden physical contact from strangers

Seeing pity in someone’s eyes