Lost Boy
Legacy Name: SakuraHana

Deep in the city’s underbelly, where the streetlights flicker and the air is thick with the stink of gasoline and rot, a shadow moves between alleyways, unseen yet always present. He is called many things — Reaper Kid, Phantom, The Lost Boy — but no one knows his real name. No one’s sure where he came from, only that he’s been around as long as anyone can remember, slipping through the cracks like the city itself tried to erase him. Some believe he was abandoned as a child, swallowed by the streets before he could even remember a home. Others think he chose this life, slipping into the city’s shadows to avoid something worse. Whatever the truth, he survives by instinct, by knowing the streets better than anyone.

They say his tattered cloak, black as midnight, frayed at the edges and stained with the grime of a hundred backstreets, once belonged to Death itself. The hood is always drawn low, shadowing his face, but beneath it, his sharp, watchful eyes scan the world for any hint of a threat.

He moves like a ghost, fast and silent, never staying in one place long enough to be caught. He carries himself with the quiet caution of someone who has survived far too much. He never lingers in one place, always vanishing before dawn.

The gangs know him, but he swears allegiance to none. Too fast to catch, too smart to corner, too damn stubborn to die. He lives off what his nimble hands can steal — wallets lifted in a heartbeat, backroom deals gone missing, whole shipments vanishing into the night. The grime of the city clings to his fingers, but he moves with grace, a shadow that no one notices until it’s too late.

No one sees him coming, and no one can trace him when he’s gone. Some claim he sleeps in abandoned subway tunnels, others think he crashes in the ruins of condemned buildings. Wherever the city forgets, that’s where he calls home.

He's young - many say he's no more than seventeen, - but he’s already a legend. Maybe that’s why the city’s underworld watches him with equal parts fear and fascination. Because ghosts don’t grow old. And legends? They don’t last forever.

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