So this was how it was, of course I was used to getting the short end of the stick; so to say. I know I've always acted high and mighty most of my life, but all I ever wanted was attention. I was ignored for most of it, which isn't very believable until I go into it...
First off, I only have a first name; Dareth. It was a nickname given to me by the fellow children at the orphanage when I was merely eight, but it stuck and fit me. It was usually bluffs to couples that came to visit out little "home" that I was, in fact, a daredevil... but they never cared; they picked the cutest kids and left me in their wake with the other misfits.
"I could care less, really!" I'd brush it off the same way and ignore the way the remaining children cried together or try to comfort in the piteous states they were. 'I'm fine', I'd think and strut around like I actually owned the place, 'I just haven't met the right parents yet. Hey, I'd even take one over none...'
I'd also make friends who liked to see my weaker bluff become reality, but most only seemed to marvel at my growing ninja abilities that I had barely any time to train and grow into. I wanted a nice dojo to train in, along with some other ninja with great abilities. "We'd be called 'The Brown Ninja'," I always told anyone who'd even stop to listen. Even the adults I'd never seen before. They'd just smile politely and edge away, maybe from my fake confidence or how clingy I'd get. I never kept my friends though, they /were/ the cute ones who got adopted and left me in the dust... back to my state of being alone... with myself.
As I got older, about my teenage years, I was getting too old to be considered by most the adults who wanted a kid. I barely knew anybody anymore; especially the ones I flirted with. I never really felt attraction to any of these nameless faces of teens I was lusting after for whatever reason. A goth girl here, some sporty or femme boys there; I must have flirted with dozens, almost always getting turned away because I was not good enough. Yes, I knew I may not be the tannest or brightest or... whatever all the rage was, but the only thing I've really been honestly been complimented on was my hair. Odd thing, I really only used it when I had it at first was because I had this giant cowlick going on with my bangs. I hated how it stood straight up like it was never brushed (it's not like a brush will ever help it) and taunted me. So I ruffled it with an abandoned can of hairspray I saw lying around on the spiral staircase one time before another monthly event of couples coming in (why did I even bother?). I sprayed and brushed it to the side to poof nicely; from what I could tell.
Finally when I was eighteen and was pretty much on my own with no money. I'd have been happy if I had at least a penny to my name, but alas; I was still just a misfit, but as an adult who never taught any better. Happening upon an abandoned dojo that wasn't bad t all, or so I though. There was an older gentlemen, Sensei Wu I believe, who ended up being the owner, but it turned out after sleeping there pitifully for the night he allowed me to keep it under one condition: Never give up. Confused I eagerly agreed and became the owner of something important.
After years of trying to find ninjas to help me, some finally came, but I was surprised to find them to be the same Sensei's pupils. ...Then did I understand truly what the old man had meant.