Kuroha Hino (クロハ ヒノ Ku-ro-ha Hi-no)

Kuroha Hino was seventeen when her world collapsed. Her mother, long battling illness, passed away that year. Her father, drowning in gambling debts, grew desperate enough to consider selling her off to settle what he owed. Rather than allow herself to become a commodity, Kuroha ran and she never went back.   Kamurocho became her home. She had almost been sent to Korea and trafficked by the Kamurocho traffickers, yet the streets offered little comfort. She learned to sleep in alleys, to guard the few belongings she had, and to fight off anyone who thought her weak. Those seven years hardened her, but they did not hollow her out. Even as hunger gnawed at her, she found herself protecting stray cats and dogs from cruelty, clinging to the belief that if no one else cared for them, she would. Violence became her answer to anyone who tried to stop her.   What Kuroha never knew was that the name Hino carried its own shadow. Her estranged father had slipped deeper into the underworld, running an underground ring tied to trafficking both the homeless and animals a cruel irony, given her devotion to protecting the latter. She lived unaware that her own bloodline bound her to one of the very evils she despised.   Recently, fate shifted. The Kamurocho homeless community, having seen her strength and stubbornness firsthand, pointed her toward the Hidora Clan. A security company with Yakuza roots, it offered something she hadn’t had in years: a roof, clothes, and the faint possibility of trust. A warm smile and an outstretched hand were all it took for her to accept. Tired of the streets, tired of fighting alone, Kuroha stepped into the clan not as a hardened criminal, but as a woman searching for a place where she could finally become herself.   Yet scars don’t vanish overnight. She remains shy, wary of others, and struggles to open up. Trust does not come easily, but she knows it must come eventually if she wants to move forward. She fears thunder, hates being alone, and guards her time jealously unwilling to let anyone waste what she fought so hard to preserve. But in quiet moments, she dreams of the life she never had: tea shared in peace, walks in nature, and the freedom to travel without fear.   The three golden necklaces she wears are symbols of her survival. One for the girl she was, one for the years she lost, and one for the woman she hopes to become.