.
.
"She's starting to look like you," Anko said. Kimimaro watched in awe as their daughter toddled precariously across the carpet, walking as if on stilts before falling onto Anko's lap. "Anata, she's adorable. Look at her chubby cheeks."
"Indeed." Kimimaro extended his hand, letting his daughter grip his finger in her tiny hands.
xXx
.
He never thought he could be capable of loving anyone like this. Never thought how easily his heart would leap in his throat when his daughter cried or stubbed her little foot against the leg of a table. He never knew fear until the day he saw his daughter tumble off a rocking chair she had climbed behind her mother's back, never knew what it was like to have someone small and warm squirming up against his chest.
One day, there was an explosion. Enemy nin broke into the village and Kimimaro fought back, defending his family with all the strength he had.
When it was over, when he slumped and staggered forward, the bones in his body bloody and receding, he looked at his daughter and reached out his hand.
But his daughter looked at him and screamed.
xXx
.
"A monster!" his daughter said. "Mommy I saw a monster!"
And she wouldn't stop crying for days.
xXx
.
"She's only four," Anko said. Kimimaro watched silently as Anko tucked their child into bed, speaking with a soft, soothing voice, before smoothing over the covers with her palm. "She doesn't understand. She probably didn't know it was you."
Tentatively, Kimimaro walked into the room. "Sayaka?"
The little girl stared at him. Her hands clenched the blanket. Anko touched his arm.
"Sayaka, honey. Say goodnight to your papa."
The little girl shook her head. She stared at him, terrified.
Kimimaro stepped forward. She screamed.
"Sayaka! It's okay," Anko said. She sat on the bed, pulling her up into her lap. She looked up at Kimimaro, worried. "It's just papa. Shh."
She was crying. Kimimaro stood and softly closed the door.