"Mom, when is dad coming home?" a girl, no more than 10 years old, with pretty round eyes and cropped black hair asked. Her legs swung rhythmically under the table as she pushed the food around her plate.

The woman next to her ruffled her hair with a slight grin, "He'll be back any day now, but you have to eat all your food if you want to have the energy to play together."

The girl nodded enthusiastically and did as she was told, finishing her plate in just a few minutes. As she stood up and was about to put the dish in the sink, the front door squeaked open from the next room.

"I'm home," a deep, weary voice called out.

"Daddy!" the girl gasped, an impossibly wide smile overtaking her face as she ran towards the door and jumped into his open arms, "Daddy I missed you!"

"I missed you too, honey," he smiled, returning the hug and ruffling her hair.

"Welcome home," his wife stepped out of the kitchen, the three shared a tight hug before the young girl dragged her father off to show him all the things she had made while he was away.


The middle aged woman sat in a large plush seat, hands around a steaming mug of tea. She shifted uncomfortably as she listened to the sounds of the quiet house. She pushed her white-streaked raven hair behind her ear.

"She's finally asleep," her husband announced as he descended the stairs, dropping into the chair next to her, "Thanks, Kinuyo," he took the cup from her, carefully lifting it to his lips. Up close, she noticed some wrinkles and dark circles he didn't have last time she saw him.

"So what happened? You were only supposed to be gone a few weeks," she asked, concern evident in her chocolate brown eyes, "Is everything ok, Omasu?"

"Everything's fine," he reassured with a smile, taking her hand into his own, "It's a long story but everything's ok."

She nodded, though the crease in her brow did not lessen, "How is she?"

"She's doing great, she seemed happy and healthy and she's made some great friends. She really seemed to like Konohagakure," he paused, his thumb ran over the back of her hand, "It's the first time I was able to speak to her in years. She looks just like you, you know."

Kinuyo nodded, the happy smile resting on her lips contrasted the glassiness of her eyes.

"What are her friends like?"

Omasu gazed as his wife sadly, he continued tracing patterns on her hand as he spoke.

"Well there's Mila of course, still as wonderful as ever. Then there's a young man from the Uchiha clan, he would come around every once in a while and she would always greet him like she hadn't seen him in years. There's also the leader of Konoha, a Senju. He's a very nice young man, he has big dreams and a kind heart, Kazue gets along very well with his wife and children too." He recalled warmly the time he had seen her rocking the Senju's son to sleep, pacing rhythmically around the room while singing a quiet tune he couldn't hear. He remembered thinking she would be a good mother someday. "Then there's the leader's younger brother, not quite as friendly a person on the outside, though he and Kazue seem to be closest."

The woman looked up, "Do you mean…?"

Omasu nodded with a smile, "He treats her well, from what I've seen, and she seems to be fond of him too."

His wife smiled, and though the pain was evident, she managed a laugh, "Our baby's all grown up."

He remained silent for a moment, his heart ached right along with his wife's.

"Even as things are, we should be proud of her, dear."

Kinuyo shook her head slightly, "She's managed to make a good life for herself despite all she's been through; of course I'm proud," her eyes looked up, fighting the tears that threatened to spill, "...I just wish things were different."

That night, Omasu listened to his wife's tossing and turning, he saw her shoulders tremble as silent tears soaked into the pillows, and he wished there was something he could do.


Weeks later, the family was out and about in the village, the sun shining brightly overhead.

"Mommy, Daddy, where are we going?" the young girl piped up curiously. Walking between her parents, she swung their connected hands as the trio continued down the mid-morning street.

"Good question, Misora. Honey, where are we going?" Kinuyo questioned with a raised eyebrow.

"Be patient," he chided, his tone was light yet the look on his face was unusually serious.

Kinuyo hummed suspiciously but nonetheless she dropped the subject. She glanced ahead and took a moment to enjoy the scenery: the worn stones path beneath them passed by a small grove of saplings, the simple stone benches not far from the path were scarcely occupied this time of day. Next, they passed a grouping of houses whose windows were open, children playing and chasing each other noisily on the grass. She heard a distant birdsong as a few sparrows flew overhead. They passed by an older woman carrying a large, flat basket of leaves and… silkworms. She frowned, there was only one place in the village that kept that many silkworms…

Kinuyo stopped dead in her tracks, instantly hyper-aware of her surroundings, "Why are we going to the main compound?"

"Just trust me, dear, I promise there's nothing to worry about."

He knew all too well his wife's deep hatred of the Imada leaders, he only hoped she wouldn't turn back now.

"Omasu, why are we here?" she demanded sharply, the warmth in her eyes now gone.

"Honey, everything's fine, please just-"

"I will not go into that house! What did you-"

"Excuse me."

The voice made them both turn. Kinuyo drew her brows together in disbelief.

"...Mila?"

The brown haired woman bowed slightly. Glancing around cautiously, she motioned towards the compound, "Follow me, quickly."

"Wait! Is this about Kazue? Is she ok?" the older woman asked urgently.

"She's fine, just come with me."

Casting her husband a worried glance, Kinuyo obliged and the trio followed Mila into the main compound. They wove through the complex halls quickly, thoroughly confusing the small family, until they stopped in front of a small screen door and Mila motioned for them to enter.

The room was modest and well-kept, light streamed in through the large windows and filled the room with its warm rays. A small table and three seats were placed on one side of the door and she gestured for them to sit.

"Please, tell us what this is about," Kinuyo half pled, concern evident in her expression.

Mila looked towards Omasu who turned towards his wife carefully.

"Kazue asked us to come and speak to her," he took Kinyuo's hand as she stared at him with wide eyes, "As a family.

The woman could have sworn her heart stopped. She looked at her husband in disbelief, turned to look at Mila, then back again to her husband.

"I… get to see her?" she asked, whispering, as if speaking any louder would shatter this sweet dream.

Mila nodded with a sympathetic smile, "But she's asked to speak with Misora first."

The little girl tilted her head in surprise, turning to her mother, "Mom, how does she know my name?"

Kinuyo snapped out of her daze and quickly knelt down in front of the girl.

"Misora, remember how I told you about your sister, Kazue? You're finally going to meet her!" she grinned with watery eyes. She smoothed down the girl's hair and straightened her yukata before taking both hands into her own, "Be nice, ok dear?"

The girl nodded compliantly before being told to go with Mila. The two stepped out of the room and back into the winding halls. Neither side spoke along the way, Mila couldn't imagine what it must be like for the three of them. Well, four, actually.

Soon, they made it to a set of sliding doors. Misora looked up at her questioningly and Mila motioned for her to go ahead. The young girl turned back towards the door and knocked a few times. Once she heard a light 'Come in' from the other side she again looked up at Mila who nodded encouragingly, then slid the door open and stepped inside.

The first thing that caught her attention was the woman sitting behind a low-set table, hands folded in her lap and eyes trained on the door.

"Please, sit," the woman spoke in a voice that almost reminded her of her mother's.

The room had no windows but enough light came through the screens that she could see without an issue. The girl made her way towards the table and sat across from the stranger.

"Are you Kazue-nee?" she asked, half curious half nervous.

"Technically, yes. Though people call me Aroka," she smiled warmly, "It's nice to meet you, Misora."

"What happened to your eyes?"

"Ah, I was born blind, over time they became like this."

"Oh."

"Say, how old are you?"

"10. My birthday just passed."

"Wow, that's great! How did you celebrate?"

"Mom said I could invite my friends over so we had a party and played games and everything! And mom made a cake too!"

"Did you get a lot of presents?"

"Yea! I got a dollhouse and new pencils and ribbons, and mom got me these shoes!" she scooted to the side to show off her soft blue shoes, apparently having forgotten the part about being blind. "But dad wasn't able to come."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"He was on an important mission far away."

"Well, I'm sure he wished he could have been there."

"Dad said he had to go to make sure Kazue-nee was safe, so it's ok."

"Oh? Why would that make it ok?"

"Huh?"

"You don't know me, why would it matter if that was why your father was away?"

"Because dad always keeps us safe. Mom says even though Kazue-nee can't live with us, you're still family."

"Do you believe her?"

"Yea! Because it's not your fault the bad people took you away."

"The bad people, huh?... Do you know why they took me?"

"It's because you were special, right? And they wanted to use you?"

"It's more like... they needed my help to keep the village safe."

"Oh, ok. Hey, Kazue-nee."

"Yes?"

"Why did you want to talk to us?"

"Ah, well it's a long story but…" she leaned forward dramatically and her voice dropped to a whisper, "I'll tell you if you promise to keep it a secret."

"I will! Promise!"

"Ok then. I wanted to speak to you and your parents today because I'm going to leave soon."

"What?! You're going to leave the village? But no one ever leaves the village!"

"I suppose I'll have to be the first, then, won't I?"

"But why do you have to go?"

"You'll understand when you're older, Misora. For now, at least we can get to know each other, right?"

"I guess…"

"So do you have any questions for me?"

"Hmm…" she thought for a moment, "Who makes your kimonos?"

Aroka laughed at this; she really was just a little girl. "The weavers make all the clothing here."

"I think you look better in the purple one."

"The purple one?"

"Yea, the one you wore to the silk festival."

"Oh? You saw me at the silk festival?"

"Yea, mom and dad were looking for you but you weren't sitting with all the other main family members, later on I saw you walking with a strange man and I thought your kimono was really pretty."

"I'm sorry I didn't notice you back then."

"It's ok. The teachers said only the main family get to wear purple clothes because they're hard to make. How come I can't wear any?

"Well it's like you said Misora, you're not in the main family, right?"

"But you get to wear them!"

"That's different, I was raised here."

"But that's not fair!"

"Sometimes things just aren't fair, dear, but getting stuck on them won't make you happy either, will it?"

"Aw, but I… Ok, I get it. But I have another question!"

"Ask away."

"Why haven't you come to visit us before?"

"Ah, right. Well there isn't just one reason. The people in charge here forbid it, for one, but it was also because I didn't want to see your parents."

"Huh? Why not?"

"I was angry with them."

"Yuto-sama, why don't my mom and dad live here?" a young Aroka asked the old clan leader out of the blue, almost catching him by surprise.

"Your parents aren't members of the main family," he stated matter-of-factly.

"Then why can't I live with them?"

The old man sighed, a mask of sympathy etched in his features, "Are you sure you want to know? It's going to be hard to hear."

The girl nodded eagerly.

He sighed again, "Well, your parents have always been very poor, they weren't... expecting to have you and so they weren't ready to provide for a baby. After you were born, one of our advisors happened to be visiting your parents and saw how terrible your condition was; you were only wrapped in old rags despite the nearing winter, you were cold and hungry and wouldn't stop crying. Out of the goodness of his heart, he couldn't bear to see you like that, so he made an offer to your parents to raise you in their place. They refused him but he couldn't allow you to continue to be mistreated, he had to agree to give them a hefty sum before they finally agreed," he shook his head disapprovingly, "Greed is a nasty thing. Remember, Aroka, your parents may have been willing to throw you away, but not us, we are your family and we will always be here for you, understand?"

Aroka stood speechless, mouth agape, sadness shining through her large brown eyes. She nodded slowly.

From that day forward, Aroka never stopped thinking about his words. At first, she didn't dare believe it, however she soon learned the ability of Detailing and soon after that discovered it was all true. She watched with her own eyes as her mother traded her for a box of silver.

She asked herself why she wasn't good enough, why her parents didn't want her. One side of her said not to blame them; they must not have had any other choice, right? They were just trying to survive, right? But the other side of her only saw these as pretty excuses to wrap herself with, the other side of her simmered in an ever-growing rage that she never forgot.

"Are… are you still angry with them?" Misora asked worriedly.

"I am," she responded without hesitation, but a warm smile soon appeared on her lips, "But like I said before, getting stuck on things like that won't make me happy. I've spent enough time being angry with the past and it didn't change anything. The past gets too much attention, I think, so I'll try to spend more of my effort in the present."

The younger girl stared at her hands intently. Aroka wasn't sure how much she understood but some part clearly resonated with her.

"...Are you going to talk to mom and dad?"

"That's why I brought you all here, isn't it?"

"But you're not going to come back with us." It was more a statement than a question and the disappointment was clear.

"No, I'm afraid not. But everything will be ok, right Misora?"

The girl nodded hesitantly.

"Well I'm glad I got to meet you today, dear."

"Me too."

"Would you mind getting your parents for me? I'd like to talk with them."

Misora nodded and shuffled to her feet. She bowed quickly before padding towards the door, sending back a small wave before disappearing around the corner.


Kinuyo's eyes were focused on the floor as they had been since they got here. Her husband sent her worried glances every so often, none of which she noticed. She wrung her hands for the hundredth time, unable to still herself as her mind raced a mile a minute.

She was jolted from her trance as the door slid open revealing Mila and Misora. She ran to her daughter and knelt in front of her, hands cupping her face.

"How was it? Is your sister ok?" she asked urgently.

The little girl nodded, her big eyes calm and bright, "Kazue-nee wants to see you and dad," she told them.

"Oh, yes. Yes of course," she looked to Mila who motioned for them to follow her.

Kinuyo's mind seemed to race ever faster as the four of them made their way towards their destination. Omasu kept an arm around her shoulders to offer what comfort he could and Misora held her hand as she remained largely oblivious to her mother's silent turmoil.

Kinuyo felt her heart lurch as they finally stopped. Mila stepped aside and motioned towards the doors. Omasu and his wife exchanged anticipatory glances, though hers were a bit more anxious, before she slid the screen open.

"Kazue…"

The wide-eyed mother dashed towards the girl, moving around the table and kneeling down beside her, hands half outstretched, almost afraid to touch her. Slowly, she reached forward and brushed her cheek ever so slightly. Then the tears fell.

"Let's give them some privacy," Mila whispered to Misora as she pulled the girl aside, closing the door behind Omasu.


"I'm sorry about that," Kinuyo sniffled, gathering herself after having wept for a good long while, letting go of twenty years worth of tears and clinging onto Aroka like her life depended on it. The girl simply let it happen, patting her back comfortingly every so often; something Kinuyo took as a good sign. The woman now sat beside her husband, both of them across from their daughter.

"I haven't seen you up close in years, you've grown into a beautiful young woman," she smiled warmly, eyes still a bit glassy.

"Thank you."

"How was Konoha? I know you just got back from a long trip."

"It's very nice, I liked it a lot."

"That's wonderful, you have friends there, right? The ones that used to visit you here?"

"Yes, a few, though they're all rather busy these days."

"Ah, I see." But something was nagging at her, something that tainted the vibrant joy she felt, so she opted to ask carefully, "Honey, I'm glad you wanted to see us again, but why now, after all this time? Is everything ok?"

"Of course, I just thought it was a good time to… make amends."

Kinuyo grinned in relief, "That's good, that's good…" Her eyes lowered to the table for a moment before fixing on Aroka again, "You know we've missed you all these years. Not a day passed where I didn't wonder how you were doing, if you were happy, if you were eating well. I just wanted to know you were ok, you know? I was afraid you would grow up hating us because we were never there for you, and I'm so sorry we couldn't be. I'm so sorry you had to grow up alone, and if there was any way to take it all back, I would. But please know we never forgot about you, Kazue, not once," Kinuyo was once again crying by the end of it. Her husband held her hand and put his other on her shoulder comforting.

"I know why you did what you did. It's ok," Aroka reassured. Whether or not her words were honest didn't matter, because when Kinuyo heard them she began sobbing even harder.

"Thank you… t-thank you… thank you…" she choked out in between breaths. How long had she been waiting to hear those words? It was as if she had been freed from an enormous burden; the guilt that had built up over the years was forgiven, even though she knew she didn't deserve it.

Maybe heaven was giving her another chance.

"How about we bring Misora in?" Aroka changed the topic, trying to lighten the mood. "I didn't think you'd want her to see you like this so I asked Mila to keep her back for a while."

"Yes, of course! That would be great!" Kinuyo brightened instantly, wiping away any evidence of her tears, leaving only slightly reddened eyes.

Suddenly, she felt a jarring disturbance in the air, though she couldn't identify what it was. Alarmed, she quickly turned to her husband who appeared startled as well.

"Don't worry," Aroka spoke before they could become too concerned, "That was me, I was just signaling for Mila to bring her in."

"Right, yes, of course."

"It was chakra," she could tell the woman was holding back her curiosity for fear of offending her, "I inherited it from him," she gestured towards Omasu.

"Oh! I didn't know that!" Kinuyo grinned at the revelation, "How nice that you take after your father!"

Behind them the door slid open and Misora poked her head into the room.

"You can come in," Aroka called, gesturing for the girl.

"Misora, dear, come here!" Kinuyo beckoned. The girl obediently padded her way over to her parents. "Here, sit next to your sister."

And so the family sat reunited for the first time in two decades. The mother was grateful beyond words. She never thought she would get to see both her daughters in front of her and yet here they were: vibrant and alive like children are, together like they were always meant to be.

Misora was happy as well. Though she didn't quite understand the why behind everything, she was happy to finally meet the sister she had only ever heard about and seen in passing glances. She was glad her Kazue-nee was nice, she wanted to get to know her better. Her mother would always say how much they looked alike, she hoped that was true because she thought Kazue-nee was pretty. She had hoped maybe she would be able to go home with them today, but she also knew that wouldn't be the case, not yet all least, so she wouldn't bring it up.

Omasu knew he should share in the joy the rest of his family felt, yet he couldn't convince himself to do so. As little as he knew about Aroka, his wife and daughter knew even less. On the few occasions he had been able to speak to her, he had always asked her to give them another chance and each time she had made her decision clear:

"No way. Why would I want a family that doesn't want me?"

That was the first time he was able to speak to her, she couldn't have been much older than Misora back then.

"I don't want anything to do with you."

A few years later, she was a teenager now. He remembered thinking how much she resembled her mother, especially the way she laughed.

"You had your chance twenty years ago."

And it was true, they made a grave mistake and they lived every day with the burden of knowing what they had done.

"I don't want to speak to you again."

That was the last thing she said to him before he left Konoha. He had gathered the courage to ask her one last time and with that final rejection went the last of his hope.

Imagine his surprise when he received a message from her just a few days ago: she would be returning soon and wanted to meet with all three of them. He had to read it over a few times just to make sure he wasn't imagining it. At first he was overjoyed; it was a miracle! They would finally get what they wanted after all! Then it hit him: why? Never, in all her years, had she ever shown the slightest interest in reconnecting with her birth family. He had spoken to her just weeks prior and she had refused him as firmly as always. What made her change her mind? He had never known her to be a malicious kind of person so he had to assume her intentions were genuine, but the question still lingered…

Why?