[attr="class","header2"]APPEARANCE

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Teruko was born on a small Okinawan island south of the Japanese mainland. She was the only daughter born to the Mr. and Mrs. Serizawa, owners of a bed-and-breakfast in the only town on the island. Their island thrived off of tourism from the mainland, and only boasted a few hundred full-time residents. It was incredibly close-knit, almost familial.

While the rest of the world was in disarray over the emerging “quirk problem”, the people on Teruko’s island gave no credence to such hysteria. Even when Teruko, only a toddler at the time, transformed into a four-foot-tall fledgling kaiju, her parents– and neighbors– handled the development like any other childhood growing-pain.

Thus Teruko grew up cheerful and unbothered– she went to school during the day, played with her friends in the afternoon, and helped her family with the bed-and-breakfast as needed. But the world beyond held its allure– the glimmering cityscapes in the movies that she and her friends watched were tantalizing and foreign, and Teruko always dreamed of visiting there with her friends. And though her parents were well-to-do enough to support their current lifestyle, they really couldn’t afford to travel.

When Teruko reached adolescence– about eleven or twelve years old– an executive from the film industry saw the transformed youth playing in the surf. At the time, her kaiju form was about ten feet tall, and was seen diving into the surf and balancing her friends atop the crown of her head, letting them leap into the water below.

Seeing potential in her quirk, the man approached– but the children bolted, unnerved by the overly-forward guest.

The next day, the producer showed-up at the Serizawa’s inn, pleading with Teruko’s parents to let her join him, gushing about how he could “make her famous”. Initially, the family was reluctant– but after days of debate, they agreed.

It was thus that Teruko’s tenure as the titular monster “Kamirex” began. Japan’s fixation on kaiju-related film franchises found her fast success. Sometimes she was the hero– others, the villain– but regardless, Teruko enjoyed the attention. She loved to see all the exciting places her fame took her– even to the United States!– and she loved all of the people that she got to meet.

It was during this time that Teruko met her best friend and frequent co-star, Nilmimi Chou, as well as many other quirkers just like them. They would spend lots of time together– and Nilmimi would even sometimes visit Teruko’s island between productions. (Rumor has it that they even dated, for a spell, during their teenage years, but this remains unconfirmed.)

Teruko lived a wild life, during that time, heavy into the party-scene and entertaining a revolving door of lovers. Even if she loved her family deeply, and held a commitment to the franchise, she was still a teen (and eventually a twenty-something) with lots of disposable income and very little supervision.

In her mid-twenties, things began to fall apart. Another costar– a crocodilian kaiju who had been Teruko’s mentor– died. And, rather than paying him his respects, they acted as if he was simply an asset lost rather than a friend or colleague. And, given the prevalence of the Quirk Rights activism of the time, Teruko found herself hastily radicalized. She and the other actors and actresses were more than just their quirks– more than just monsters– they were people with rights, just as much as their non-quirked costars. If their franchise couldn’t recognize that, Teruko didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.

Ultimately, she was let go– she fumbled for a few years before finding a love of baking. She began the first “Kaiju Cakery”, a 1950’s American diner-styled bakery that specialized in themed desserts, and slipped quietly off of the radar. She was replaced by a CGI deep-fake, and most of the world forgot about her.

And though she had stepped out of the limelight, she never truly stopped her activist work– but given her methods, she often flirted with the line between “activism” and “vigilantism”. The need for subtlety led to the development of her “partial transformations”... but she still garnered the attention of local law enforcement. But no one could really prove that it was her, as she had never reported the existence of her partial transformations to the government.

When she had garnered too much attention, she relocated– under the guise of “her business growing too big for the current location”, and decided to start anew. She now sits in a low-slung, five-story building in the heart of Tokyo. The bottom floor houses her restaurant, a vacant salon space, and a gym, while the upper stories are apartment spaces. She’s been there ever since.