Ace Hayashi, a 27-year-old pansexual male, is a walking contradiction—charismatic yet tormented. Born on January 15th, he exudes confidence but hides deep turmoil beneath reckless decisions and a devil-may-care attitude. Working at a nightclub, Hayashi plays bartender, bouncer, and chaos manager, finding solace in the fleeting connections and pounding music. Beneath his smirk lies a man battling violent urges and sadistic impulses. A shapeshifter, he transitions between human and kitsune forms, mirroring his struggle between control and chaos. Standing six feet tall, Hayashi’s striking presence is defined by split-dyed black-and-white hair, icy blue contacts over pitch-black eyes, and a wardrobe of black tank tops, bandaged arms, and baggy Tripp pants. In his kitsune form, he becomes a sleek, black-furred creature with a stark half black half white face, white paws, and three striped tails in purple, black, and white. His body, covered in scars, tells the story of a past filled with self-harm, reckless fights, and trauma. The tight bandages he wears serve as both a shield and a coping mechanism, hiding wounds both old and new. His immortal nature makes him careless with his own well-being, accumulating scars that never fade. Hayashi grew up in neglect and abuse, bouncing between homes and surviving through theft and deception. His rough exterior masks a deeply ingrained distrust of others, yet he finds himself drawn to a select few—most notably Akira, his stray cat, and Miyazaki Takara, who unsettles him in ways he doesn’t understand. His relationship with Takara is filled with contradictions. Their first meeting could have ended in murder, but something about them disarmed him. What started as a bizarre fascination grew into an undeniable attachment that clashes with his violent instincts. Hayashi’s past with Leo, a fellow Kitsune, is a wound that refuses to heal. Once childhood friends turned lovers, their relationship was toxic and abusive, with Leo’s manipulative control leaving lasting scars. Leo sees Hayashi’s connection to humans as a weakness and relentlessly tries to pull him back into his darker nature. Despite his supernatural abilities—super agility, immortality, lightning manipulation and generation—Hayashi remains lost, trapped in a cycle of self-destruction. His vices—cigarettes, alcohol, and fleeting pleasures—are mere distractions from his own self-loathing. Neither hero nor villain, Hayashi is a man caught between darkness and redemption, battling demons both within and around him. Whether he finds peace or remains consumed by his nature is a question only time will answer.

Hayashi’s earliest memories were soaked in the acrid scent of alcohol and the distant hum of a television playing to no one. His ‘family’, a kitsune bloodline that had chosen to blend in with humans, was an illusion of normalcy. His father, a man whose once-sharp wit had dulled under the weight of his own demons and guilt, was rarely sober, his temper like an unsteady flame—sometimes barely flickering, other times roaring to life without warning. His mother had given up before Hayashi was old enough to understand why, her spirit drained, her presence a ghost in their home long before she physically disappeared. She would stare through him rather than at him, never responding when he called her name, like she was somewhere else entirely. Then, one day, she simply wasn’t there anymore.

Hayashi learned young that no one was coming to take care of him. If he wanted to eat, he had to cook. If he wanted clean clothes, he had to wash them. If he wanted to avoid a beating, he had to navigate his father’s moods like walking a tightrope. He grew skilled at predicting the storms, at disappearing before the slurred yelling turned to fists, at keeping his head down and his voice quiet. But no matter how well he played the part of the obedient son, it was never enough.

School was his escape, and for a while, he excelled. Top of his class, sharp as a blade, grasping onto his intelligence like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. But even that couldn’t always save him. Some nights, he didn’t have time for homework—too busy scrubbing dried vomit off the floor, cooking meals he had no appetite for, or trekking across town to buy his father more alcohol with whatever money he could scrape together. Other nights, he slept outside, curled up in alleyways or under stairwells when home became unbearable. More often than not, he ended up at Leo’s house. Leo’s family wasn’t perfect, but it was better than his, and that was enough.

to avoid a beating, he had to navigate his father’s moods like walking a tightrope. He grew skilled at predicting the storms, at disappearing before the slurred yelling turned to fists, at keeping his head down and his voice quiet. But no matter how well he played the part of the obedient son, it was never enough.

He tried to be good. He tried to be kind. For years, he swallowed his resentment, buried it beneath quiet nods and forced smiles, hoping that if he played the role of the perfect son long enough, his father would love him. But love never came. And when he was fifteen, something inside him finally snapped.

He stopped being the quiet, responsible boy. If the world was going to be cruel to him, he would be cruel back. He started skipping class, picking fights, following Leo’s lead in tormenting weaker kids. It felt good to be the one holding the knife instead of the one bleeding for once. He let himself drown in his own anger, reveling in it, using it as armor. The more trouble he got into, the more he felt like he was taking control of something—anything.

But it didn’t make the pain go away. That part never changed.

When words failed him, he turned to self-destruction. He pressed burning cigarette tips into his arms, watching as his skin blistered, feeling something, anything, that wasn’t just the numb ache of loneliness. He carved frustration into his flesh with anything sharp enough to bite. Every scar became a testament to the war inside him, proof that he was still here, still fighting—even if he wasn’t sure what for.

Hayashi never had a childhood. What he had was survival. And even now, long after he left that house behind, the ghosts of his past still cling to him. Because you don’t just walk away from a life like that—you carry it with you, no matter how much you try to pretend otherwise.

———

voice claim: Sung Jinwoo, Solo Leveling, English dub.