Post by Elloria on Feb 24, 2011 4:10:08 GMT -5
Name:
Genji Lantieri
Age:
35; born June 4th, 819 BBRW
Race:
Human
Occupation:
Count of Teirm
Allegiance:
Himself and Teirm
Physical Description:
At 5’7” and 125lbs, Genji doesn’t cut a very impressive figure. His slight form and slender face make him seem effeminate and weak to the people of Teirm, especially in the loose-fitting clothes that he wears. But there is a lot of wiry muscle on his lithe, toned frame. He keeps himself in shape with daily sword spars as well as regularly practicing the martial arts and meditation he learned from his mother’s people. Fleet of foot, Genji’s reflexes are far sharper and his movements more agile than many nobles of Teirm—a result of his time spent on the islands of Itasus and his clan’s training. There is a grace in his movement that is almost preternatural in its subtle precision—a trait he picked up from his elder half-brothers Kishi and Hikaru.
Genji chooses clothing that is loose enough to keep his movements unrestrained but not enough to trip him up in a fight. It’s a style that is common on the islands of Itasus. The material is not usually very thick as that would be impractical in the tropical climate of his first home. He also has a higher-than-normal body temperature, which keeps him comfortable in the thin clothes even during Broddring winters. The only difference is that his clothes are dyed in lighter colors now than was typical in his homeland. When indoors he usually keeps his shirt partially open to keep cool. This also allows others to see his toned chest and the red dragon tattoo curling up his torso and around his left shoulder. This tattoo is the symbol of his mother’s clan and marks that he has achieved warrior status - therefore achieving recognition in the clan. A delicate flush caused by his body temperature perpetually graces his skin, turning it a light peachy color. Without it he would be as pale as any other Broddring noble, thanks to his father. Numerous scars criss-cross his back and lower abdomen. They are barely visible for they have faded with age. Every one of them was earned during training and various rites of passage in Itasus.
On his left middle finger is the large signet ring that once belonged to his father. It has the Lantieri family crest on it. Genji owns two blades which were forged for him upon achieving the dragon tattoo. They are his katana Seisui (“pure water”) and his wakizashi Hinote (“blaze”). These blades are perpetually on his person, for though he trusts his retinue of guards he is also certain that he will need to defend himself at any moment. Seisui is strapped to his left side and Hinote to his back. This makes it easier for him to unsheathe them simultaneously. He was born ambidextrous and had a natural aptitude for this style of wielding, so the Kazans made him focus on it.
Genji’s hair is a deep black with a slight bluish sheen to it. He keeps it in shaggy layers that end just above his shoulders. He does nothing to restrain it, letting it fall carelessly around his face. It often falls in front of his eyes, causing him to flick his head slightly to move it. His hair is one of his vanities and he takes meticulous care of it, washing it at least twice a week and brushing it daily. Thus it has a satiny feel and is lustrous. His eyes are the one part of his physique that does not speak of his mother’s people. Like his father’s, they are the deep blue-green of the sea set in a face that has one expression perpetually fixed to it—disdain. His eyes have sent shivers racing down many a spine. They give the impression of instantly seeing straight into the soul of a person—and dismissing that person in the same instant. They are cold as the waters of his mother’s home and unexpressive, giving no indication as to the ever-shifting thoughts that race through his mind.
Ring: www.markdefrates.com/images/unicsigflg.jpg
Blade set: www.swordsoftheeast.com/ProductImages/musashi/Musashi_Philosophy_Daisho.jpg
Personality:
Genji is cold, calculating and utterly ruthless in his dealings with others. He is anti-social at best, rarely speaking for any reason save to give orders to his subordinates. He instead prefers to observe those around him. This isn’t because he has nothing to say. On the contrary, his thoughts are many, rarely kind, and often jump from topic to topic. It is rare for him to focus all of his attention on any given train of thought, preferring to keep all matters of importance under consideration. This does not, of course, make him unobservant. He is simply processing the information he takes in at remarkable speeds. He is perpetually gathering information on others—specifically about the weaknesses of others and how he might use them to his advantage. So when he does speak, he knows what to say to break down a person’s defenses and bend them to his will. Only those whom he considers to be more powerful than him (and that is a small number indeed) does he treat with any kind of respect when he speaks to them.
His generally reticent nature is a hold over from his youth. By the age of ten, he was often considered emotionless by those outside his family because he simply never showed any indication of what he was really feeling. He developed this persona in response to the teasing of his brother Kishi, who always mocked Genji for being overly emotional. And if it wasn’t Kishi, there were always other children he trained with who would tease him for being a half-breed. In spite of the constant bullying he received, Genji rarely went out of his way to make enemies of people. He tried to give no one a reason to hate him, fearing they would target him for worse treatment than he already received. His other reasoning for it was the belief that one day, it would all be dealt back at them one way or another.
Once he was sent to Broddring and thereby freed from Kishi’s mockery, Genji gradually became similar to his brother — completely tactless. Now when he speaks, there is basically no filter between his mind and his mouth. He will say exactly what he thinks and trusts that his power and infuriating habit of almost always being correct will protect him. He no longer cares what opinions others form about him because he thinks they merely exist to be useful to him. He has become prone to fits of childish rage subsequent to becoming the Count of Teirm. These fits generally involve much broken furniture, shredded plants, and ripped cloth. He rarely directs these fits at people or in the public eye, considering the fallout to be a nuisance. Regardless of how he deals with his anger, it is always triggered by someone’s simple mistake or a suggestion he finds stupid. A perfectionist at his core, he has absolutely no tolerance for weakness and stupidity in his rank and file. His troops and servants fear his anger—when he does publicly display it, it almost always results in someone being severely injured for their incompetence. As a result, the military of Teirm has become famous for their exemplary performance and behavior on and off the battlefield. In general, the citadel he now lives in is kept clean and orderly. He wishes to present an acceptable and pleasant scene to his visitors. Were they to ever venture into the locked west wing of the citadel, they would find a somewhat terrifying maze of organized chaos. This is where Genji heads in his spare time or at the end of his long day to relax, plot, and prepare for another day.
Unlike his brothers, Genji indulges intellectual pursuits. His most frequent indulgence, particularly since coming to Teirm, is reading. He reads voraciously and has become well versed in a variety of subjects that range from war tactics to flower arranging. His pursuit of knowledge started because it was basic survival, according to his mother. However, Genji decided early on that it wasn’t just about survival. It could be used both for personal entertainment and against those who might pose a threat to him. Being the somewhat paranoid individual that he is, this realization sparked a furious desire in him to learn anything and everything about the world.
History:
Whether one sees him up close or at a distance, it is always obvious at first glance that Genji Lantieri is not native to Alagaesia. From his features to his “outlandish” attire to the very way he walks, nearly everything about Genji harks back to the land of his mother’s people - the islands of Itasus.
Forty years ago, a merchant by the name of Ken Kazan arrived in Teirm with a fleet of trading ships and a desire to reestablish political links with the great city. It had been half a century since Teirm enjoyed commerce with the island-nation of Itasus. For a week, Kazan and his crews traded with the merchants of Teirm before he finally received an audience with Count Felix Lantieri. This would prove to be a fateful meeting for both parties, for Ken did not arrive alone. With him was his personal bodyguard and oldest daughter, Tsukiko. She was dressed similarly to her father - baggy capri pants, a loose fitting shirt, and sandals all in varying shades of green. To look at her youngest son now is to see a shadow of what Tsukiko looked like - power, grace, and beauty in an elegant and lethal package.
Lantieri was unaware of how dangerous that combination was at the time, of course. He simply saw an exotic beauty that stirred in him desires he had not felt since the death of his first wife nearly a decade ago - a death that had left him heirless, for his second wife had yet to produce any children. Distracted, Lantieri absent-mindedly agreed to reestablishing the old ties and allowed Ken and his daughter to leave without argument and little diplomatic haggling over the terms of the relationship. The Kazan ships left port several days later, laden with exotic merchandise of its own as well as a sizable amount of gold. For the next five years, trade continued between Itasus and Teirm - always with Kazan at the helm of the enterprises. However, the demand for Itasus products became so high that many merchants began to complain that Ken and his people were effectively stealing profits from the other merchants.
Compelled by the mountain of complaints that greeted him on a daily basis, Lantieri requested Ken’s presence in the citadel to address the matter. Ken, however, sent his daughter in his stead. At first, Lantieri was infuriated that Ken had essentially brushed him off. But after a few moments conversing with Tsukiko he began to change his mind about the matter. She was beautiful, intelligent and more than a little crafty. As the discussion continued, an intriguing thought entered Lantieri’s head. Without thinking, he voiced it. If Tsukiko and her father wanted to avoid conflict with Teirm, a certain price could be paid to allow this. The offer appalled Tsukiko, but she dutifully relayed it to her father to let him decide the matter. Ken, of course, was outraged. Not only was Lantieri old enough to be Tsukiko’s father - Ken and Lantieri were both over two decades older than her - she was also already married with two sons. Or rather, she was widowed with two sons but Lantieri didn’t need to know that. However, as the days passed it became apparent that it was either submit or be run out of Teirm. And the one thing no one from Itasus wanted was to lose connection with Teirm again.
Thus after much argument and more than a few threats amongst the crews, Tsukiko prevailed upon them to accept the terms. She was willing to do this, else all they had worked for to this point would be made void and pointless. There were many trysts between her and Lantieri over the course of the two weeks the fleet of Itasus stayed in Teirm’s port. Each one left her more withdrawn and unapproachable than the last until she finally sequestered herself away completely when the fleet set sail at last. She refused to see any but her father - and that was only so he could bring her food, which she ate in ever increasing quantities. The reason did not become apparent - though most suspected it - until they returned to Itasus. The six month long journey was plenty of time for Tsukiko’s pregnancy to advance and begin showing. The pregnancy and its reason caused an uproar throughout the islands. It was enough to cause all the clans to unite in their demand for war with Teirm. They had been insulted and disgraced; blood would be theirs for this. With the quiet but persuasive support of his daughter, Ken calmed the fury of their people by laying out the possible advantages such a pregnancy could offer to the nation. A direct blood-tie to the Count of Teirm - one that was raised to respect and follow their ways and beliefs - could hold incredible bargaining currency. And if it was a son, even more so, for Ken knew that Lantieri had no other children.
So the people bided their time, waiting to see if the child would be quite as useful as they all hoped. They were not disappointed. Three months later, during a hurricane that would devastate much of Itasus, a son was born to Tsukiko. She named him Genji, which means two beginnings. No other name seemed appropriate. At first, it was difficult for anyone to believe that he was not solely of their people. To her people, every one of his features was a refined and elegant example of what is desirable in the children descended from the Yawata no Kami, defender of Itasus and its primary god. And then Genji opened his eyes. Irises the color of the sea shone out at Tsukiko and her people and all illusion that he could be one of them was wholly shattered. Such eyes did not exist anywhere in Itasus. For the first several years of his life, this did not pose much of a problem for Genji. There was always the possibility that Felix Lantieri would claim the boy as his rightful heir and no one wanted the boy to have a bad impression of Itasus.
When he turned four, Genji was sent to the Academy of Itasus. And while that sounds like a prestigious educational institution - and in many ways it was - this academy was responsible for training the children of the elite in warfare. The people of Itasus are, in general, amiable to outsiders and ever ready to use diplomatic channels to resolve conflicts. They are, however, far from a peaceful people. On the contrary, they have over time turned war into something of an art form. Power is almost perpetually shifting hands between the five major clans of the islands as warriors fight for dominance in the forests, mountains, beaches and fields. Victory is never a sure thing, for each warrior is trained from childhood onward at the Academy of Itasus. While learning about the history of their nation and the world, mathematics, reading, writing, and many other ‘normal’ skills besides, the elite children of Itasus are also instructed in melee and ranged combat, various martial arts, battle tactics, stealth, assassination and - oddly enough - meditation. These children become the military of Itasus: they police it, they fight to control it, and when needed they unite together to defend it from invaders. It was a societal position granted to few outside the major clans of the islands. Genji, for all that his mother was of the Kazan clan and his grandfather was an influential member of it, was still very much an outsider.
Still, he went through the first three years of his schooling with little trouble from the other children. It was here that he became close to the four children who would one day become his bodyguards in Teirm: Rikuto Ishinomori, Hiroshi Kiyokaze, Mami Fukakawa, and Raiden Hiroisora. He never considered them friends, but felt that they were simply remaining near him because he was some sort of important figure. His grandfather and mother had cautioned him that the other clans would seek to influence and manipulate him. That essentially everyone was potentially seeking to bend him to their will - even his own family. This would forever poison any friendship he might have tried to establish. Still, these three girls and one boy would be the people he trusted most in years to come. For this, he would call them friends to their faces, even if his heart did not believe the words. His only source of irritation at that time was his oldest brother Kishi. Kishi, who was five years older than Genji, couldn’t particularly stand his half-brother’s existence. Hikaru, barely three years older was mostly indifferent towards his baby half-brother. Kishi felt that Genji was an insult to Tadahiro - Kishi and Hikaru’s deceased father. When Tsukiko was around, her presence protected Genji; Kishi would never do something to displease his mother. When she was gone, as she frequently was, Kishi would delight in laying much abuse on Genji. Zoning in on the fact that Genji was obviously not completely of Itasus blood, Kishi would throw insult after insult at his brother - sometimes even attacking him in his anger. Genji, being much smaller and weaker than Kishi, would rarely fight back. It wasn’t until he was much older that he would teach his brother to respect him.
The abuse, however, did make Genji question his father’s origins. When he was seven, he finally worked up the courage to ask his mother about his father. At first, Tsukiko would say nothing about him. But as Genji persisted - and Ken insisted - she eventually caved and told her son about Felix Lantieri. Of course, Genji would not leave it at that. From pestering her about his father, he began asking to see the man. This was much sooner than either Ken or Tsukiko had intended - Genji was only seven. But the boy would not let it go, so when next the fleet sailed to trade with Teirm, Genji went with it. This would prove disastrous. When they landed at Teirm, Ken and Tsukiko immediately went about getting an audience with Lantieri. Or rather, Ken did because Tsukiko refused to go anywhere near the man who had sired her youngest son. Of course, the only way Lantieri would see Genji was if Tsukiko was with him, so it rather defeated the purpose of her not going near him. Swallowing her pride, she brought her son before his father and presented the boy. Genji was not particularly impressed by the man sitting upon the throne of Teirm. In fact, he was rather appalled that this decrepit old fool had sired him. He could see nothing of himself in the old man. Not at first, anyway. Neither could Lantieri. He waved Genji forward to better look at him.Once they were close enough together, each could see the other’s eyes - cold as the sea they shared color with and disdainful of all they observed. Eyes that were in essence identical. It was a disturbing moment for father and son. Yet even with the very obvious evidence of the Lantieri eyes within the boy’s face, Felix would not claim Genji as his own. “This is no son of mine. Take him from here, that I may never look upon him - or you - ever again.”
Those words cut mother and son more painfully than any knife. They would also mark the end of Genji’s relatively pleasant existence. Upon their return, word of Lantieri’s rejection spread like wildfire through the islands. Though angered once more by Lantieri’s actions and words, the people of Itasus chose not to direct their fury at the father. They chose a much closer target instead. From that moment forward, all the ire and pent-up ill-will that Itasus had harbored against Genji flooded out in an uncontrollable stream. From taunting and fights in the schoolyard (which Kishi frequently instigated and Genji’s four friends always participated in) to unfair harshness from his teachers to a generally malevolent attitude from nearly every quarter of Itasus, there was little that Genji did not endure over the next ten years of his life.
At first, he would always cry and generally let the world know how upset he was. But as his mother would always point out as she tended to his latest wounds, showing his pain only incited his aggressors to action. “If you hide the pain and turn it into determination to prove them all wrong, there is nothing you cannot achieve, my son.” This advice would become the mantra of his life. When the children would mock him and attack him, he would silently take the insults and defend himself. When his teachers would perpetually point out the flaws of his work, he would train harder to iron out those flaws. He remained devoted to the culture and religion he was raised in - he respected and honored his clan and elders; he spoke politely and courteously to anyone who deigned speak with him instead of insult him; he treated his few friends with decency; he prayed to the gods that kept the world running. Above all, he prayed to Yawata no Kami - defender of Itasus - to grant him strength as he struggled from day to day. This was all he knew. In this manner, he gradually became the iron-willed perfectionist he is today.
Some good would come of his treatment, however. By the age of seventeen, Genji was advanced enough to take the Tong-gwa Uilye. The Tong-gwa Uilye was a test that, upon successful completion, would mark the taker as a graduate of the Academy of Itasus and an adult member of their respective clan. Though not unheard of, it is unusual for a student to attempt the test before they are twenty. Many, in fact, wait for a few years after that to attempt the challenge. Genji, however, felt perfectly prepared. Moreover, he knew that Kishi would be making the attempt at Tong-gwa Uilye. This would be the opportunity of a lifetime - to potentially defeat his older brother and achieve warrior status first. He assumed - correctly so - that the ten-day trial of survival and combat prowess would come down to him and his brother. On the fifth day, only four warriors-in-training remained of the two dozen that had started. Kishi had made it, as had two young women from the rival Ishinomori clan. So had Genji.
The final duels, which would determine who would definitely become a warrior and who would have to pray that the observers approved of their graceful defeat, took up the last five days. The four trainees were given two days to recuperate and prepare for the first sets of duels. Genji and Kishi each faced off against the two Ishinomori women. They both narrowly defeated their opponents. With only a day to recover before the fight of his life, Genji spent much of it in meditation. He knew that nearly his entire clan would be present in the arena for this battle. He wouldn’t be surprised if a large portion of the entire Itasan population showed up to watch. But most importantly, his mother would be there. The fleet was never gone during the Tong-gwa Uilye, which meant Tsukiko and Ken would both be present. These were perhaps the only individuals in Itasus who had consistently treated him like a human being. He did not wish to disappoint either of them. But he would be less than useless if he could not calm the roiling emotions threatening to overwhelm him - fear, anger, a desire for revenge, pride, bloodlust. Thus he meditated, praying as always to Yawata no Kami.
The dawn of the tenth day found Genji and Kishi facing each other in relaxed battle-ready stances. It had been mutually decided on the previous day that this would be a battle of blades. This was the strong suit of both combatants and neither felt they could lose with a blade in hand. Or in Genji’s case, two. The moment the sun cleared the horizon, the brothers leapt at each other. The melodic clashing of blade upon blade filled the arena for several hours as each tried to defeat - and possibly kill - his brother. At first, it was impossible to tell who would emerge victorious. They were too equally matched. But as time wore on, the fruits of Genji’s perfectionist attitude began to expose themselves. Slowly, he began to put Kishi on the defensive. This, too, was not immediately obvious to the observers. But Kishi could feel the shift the moment it happened. And knew in that same moment that he would undoubtedly taste defeat. He was, of course, correct. Genji had gotten it into his head that if he could not defeat Kishi, then he was an absolute failure. And failure was not an option.
When Genji’s inevitable victory arrived, it was the sweetest tasting moment of his life. To see Kishi’s blade fall from his brother’s hands, to hold the tips of his blades at his brother’s throat, to have his brother’s life literally in his hands - to see sullen respect in Kishi’s eyes? Nothing would ever compare to it. Nothing, except the knowledge that Kishi’s continued existence would be due to Genji’s mercy. And that was what he had worked towards for more years than he cared to count. They stood frozen in that position for several long moments, shocked silence settling over the arena. No one had predicted this outcome. Then a roar erupted from the crowd. Whether with delight or outrage, Genji was never certain. Nor did he care. As he lowered his blades, he had but one thing to say to it all. “I guess the purity of the Itasan blood plays no part in who becomes a warrior after all. Yawata no Kami knows who is worthy and who is not.”
Though Kishi was eventually awarded warrior status, Genji immediately received the symbol of his clan - the mighty dragon. As a present for succeeding against Kishi, Ken had two new swords made for Genji. The daisho set was forged by the master blacksmith Shiroyanagi. This further cemented Genji as a respected member of Itasan society - Shiroyanagi did not forge his masterpieces for just anyone. Though part of him could appreciate the enormity of the gesture, Genji was mostly uninterested in that fact. He cared only that he was receiving exemplary and matchless blades because they would make him that much stronger. As soon as he received the katana and wakizashi pair, he named them - Seisui for his katana and Hinote for his wakizashi. The names were meant to symbolize his own dual nature. Or at least that’s what was whispered around Itasus. If one were to ask Genji, he would simply say he had always wanted named blades and he liked those two names best. He immediately began training with them to acclimate himself to their weight and balance.
There was a lull in his life after he completed the Tong-gwa Uilye. For almost over a year, Genji enjoyed a relatively relaxed life - no longer was he harassed and beaten, no longer the focus of nearly an entire nation’s hatred. No longer was it just Rikuto, Hiroshi, Mami, and Raiden treating him decently outside of his family. While he could never say that he became liked, he was at least treated with some respect. And then came a day that would turn his life on its head once again. The Itasan fleet - now under the direction of Genji’s cousin Shinobu, for Ken was quite advanced in years - returned with important news. The equally aged Lantieri wished to name Genji his rightful heir as no other children had been produced. The pronouncement was met with shock and jubilation from all quarters of Itasus. They would have their puppet in Teirm after all! At least they thought Genji would be a puppet, even after a lifetime of mistreatment. Genji, however, was less than thrilled about the prospect of returning to Teirm. His first visit had been less than pleasant and he held nothing but disgust and hatred for the man who had sired him. In fact, he was quite content to just let the old man die without a proper heir. It was only when his mother spoke to him that he took the idea under consideration. And as he thought on it, he began to think of the sort of power such a position would give him. If handled properly, he would have control of a major trading port in Alagaesia and a choke-hold on the Itasan merchants. He would be in a position from which he could lord over all those who had sought to ruin him. The notion greatly appealed to him.
So, with no further argument, he set sail for Teirm. His only stipulation was that Rikuto, Hiroshi, Mami, and Raiden had to accompany him as advisors and guards. In this way it would not be just the Kazan clan representing Itasus in Teirm. Few saw this for the surprisingly savvy political maneuver that it was. By making the other major clans “equals” with him, Genji created a relatively loyal support base for his future. His friends gladly agreed with the understanding that they would likely never see Itasus again. Six months later found the five of them in Teirm and Genji immediately swept up into the world of Teirm’s politics. His father, he learned, had been ill off and on for sometime now. Felix was not expected to last much longer. As such, it was now Genji’s duty to learn all the intricacies of Teirm in whatever time he had before Felix’s death. The legal loopholes had already been jumped and he was officially Felix’s heir.
He was quite a sight around the city, with his loose clothes, exotic features and small retinue of equally exotic Itasan guards. At first people stopped and stared, thinking he was some foreign prince. In a way, this wasn’t an incorrect thought. What took time for the people to realize was the fact that he was their foreign prince. And as was expected, he was not well-received after that. When Felix formally declared Genji his heir, there was rioting in the streets. The citizens and nobility of Teirm didn’t want some foreigner controlling them. The rioting continued for some time - with Genji staying safely cloistered in the citadel - until the Itasan fleet returned once more. This didn’t appear to be a good thing at first, for Teirm was up in arms over Genji and ready to spill Itasan blood. However, the crews of the Itasan fleet have always been mostly comprised of members from the five major clans. It is the elite who know how to sail and barter, the elite who know how to properly fight. The lesser clans make the products. The major clans sell them and distribute the profits accordingly. Hardly a perfect system, but it has survived thus far. And it was fortunate that such a system was in place, otherwise the fleet would have been lost to Teirm’s anger. Instead, the Itasans responded as one to defend themselves and by extension defend Genji. Threatening to pull their trade from Teirm - and far worse - the Itasans made quite clear that they could handle their own against the trading port and would happily go to war for numerous past grievances. With the port basically blockaded by the sheer number of Itasan ships and the large force of skilled warriors those ships carried doing considerable damage to Teirm’s forces, the city soon calmed. Things returned to a sense of normalcy and Genji’s education in the ways of Teirm continued.
As it turned out, he had only four years to get the hang of things. At the ripe old age of 76, Felix Lantieri finally succumbed to the illness that had been ravaging his mind and body for years - that and Genji finally got tired of waiting for the bastard to die. With Felix finally out of the way, Genji humbly took on the mantle of Count of Teirm at the age of 25. Most of the nobles were less than pleased by this. There was, however, little they could do about the matter. Numerous attempts over the past ten years have been made to end Genji. As they had in childhood, his four loyal guards thwarted each attempt. And after becoming Count, there was even less opportunity for the nobility to get away with assassination. It wouldn’t have mattered, however, because Genji ever worked to twist the nobles against one another. So while they are busy fighting amongst themselves over the most trivial of matters, he watches them in amusement and waits for the moment when he can sweep out the old and bring in the new blood - the children of the nobles who have come to admire and adore him. From there, he has his eyes turned towards ever greater power - whether it be rebuilding and controlling the Broddring empire or creating a new one of his own, starting right here in Teirm.
Roleplaying Sample:
See Josk or Arashi.
