Hozuki Kuragetsu was not afraid to admit that he was an extremely sexist bastard. He believed that the female race was inferior, stopping short of his beloved wife in his own biased opinion. It wasn't completely biased though. That one female demanded respect, and had pounded as much of it into his brain as possible. It's safe to say, that sadly, only a smidgen of respect had glued itself into his memory-the rest flew out the other ear during the beating.

What a woman.

He dared not say anything that belittled the opposite gender when in a fifty mile radius of her presence, lest she bashed his skull in with 'respect for the female gender'. It only got worse when she fell pregnant with their first child. Clan head or not, he was not safe from her mood swings and violent outbursts.

Thank god it was over in nine months.

As he stared down at his new child cradled in his bedridden wife's arms, he couldn't help but frown. He had a daughter. A female. A girl. As if sensing his sexist thoughts, his wife had enough energy to sock him in the gut and smack the back of his head. Even in her weakened state, her love pats hurt like hell (not that he minded).

The Hozuki clan now had an heiress. As much as Kuragetsu was hoping for an heir (preferable one with the male genitalia), there was nothing that he could do about it. It wasn't like he could just throw out an heir and get a new one. The Hozuki clan would be a laughing stock. Not to mention that other female dominant clans (aka the Terumi) would be raising hell with their feminist ways.

He stroked his chin, planning out a training regime that his daughter would endure in the near future. Girl or not, it would not do for the Hozuki clan's heir to appear weak.

'It would have been so much easier if I had a son,' He thought wistfully. The sexist alarm went off again, and his wife threw a vase at him for the second time that week. They were running out of vases. He was too busy running away from his wife that he almost forgot to name his daughter.

"Hangetsu," He muttered under his breath, ducking as his dear wife hurled another vase. "Sounds 'bout right."

Nine year old Kisame sat dejectedly in the academy classroom. The seats of his entire row were empty, the other children too scared to sit too close to him. He rolled his eyes as another brat shot him a fearful look. Kisame could only imagine the stories their parents were feeding them. A brief peek into the rumour mill made him out to be some sort of demon shark. Something along those lines.

The classroom door slid open, and a small girl walked in. She had long white hair gathered into a ponytail, purple eyes and a black mask covering the bottom half of her face. She had on a black shirt with the Hozuki clan crest printed on the back, with black pants and shoes.

She walked up the steps to Kisame's desk and sat down next to him. Other children were gaping, hell Kisame was gaping. He snapped out of his daze and asked the weird girl next to him, "Why are you sitting near me?"

She looked at him with her purple eyes and deadpanned, "Because there is a seat here."

Kisame furrowed his eyebrows. "Aren't you afraid of me?"

"Should I be?"

"I have blue skin," He offered, "gills," he pointed to his cheeks. "And sharp teeth."

She scoffed.

"I'm made out of water," she stated as if was the most natural thing in the world. She raised her hand to demonstrate, her fingers briefly becoming liquefied. "I have purple eyes." She pointed at her abnormal eye colour. "And you're not the only one with sharp teeth." She hooked one finger in her mask and pulled it down-flashing him a malicious smile with a mouth full of knife like teeth-before quickly pulling it up before anyone else could get a good look at her face.

Slowly, a small smirk pulled Kisame's lips upwards. "Oooh~ I like you. I'm Kisame and I'm nine. What's your name?"

A similar smirk formed under the girl's mask. The class shrunk away in horror. The demon shark made friends with another demon. "My name in Hangetsu and I'm seven. I think we are going to get on…swimmingly," she purred.

"We're doomed," whimpered on of the boys.

And doomed they were.