Sins of the Father

Kitiara Had only just recently arrived in Hoshigakure. While she was unofficially welcomed within the village, it was time to seek an audience with a man with a rather significant link to her past; Kitiara would take all precautions to ensure that Lord Hogokage was informed of her desire to meet and that she was waiting exactly where she needed to. As the man was busy, plenty of people had more pressing matters. However, she did not want to utilize something she had, but she did anyway to ensure a meeting was held next.

When Informed of a young female wishing to meet with him, Ayato would be infomed that she claimed to be a daughter of Stein. The very ninja that attempted to terrorize the village some years ago. The same man that Ayato was now famous for defeating and defending the village against. It would be more than evident that her visit aligning with the death of her pseudo-brother Kobiyashi within Hoshi's very jail was not at all a coincidence. While she was not at fault, she had heard about it and wished to come to Ayato as the last surviving member of the Stein line to do the formalities of identifying her brother.

Those years prior, Stein had been in Volcano for a reason, he was follow leads on her mother Mitzuki, and what she did with their child that he knew she had been carrying it. Before her death, she had sent it away with a caravan heading to Hoshi, being raised not in the way of ninjas at the time but of that of the commoners around the land that would eventually form the bonds it now had with Shinobi. Stein tracked down after those long years the family that raised her,  and when Stein could catch her alone and talk to her, Kitiara felt that connection she had so longed for... the fatherly love... soon after was when he snapped and attacked Hoshi for some reason.

Kitiara blamed herself. However, she was too young to stop the events from happening. That was when she found some aging pills lying around and took them, aging herself up. With the additional time that had since passed, she came to Hoshi hoping to settle things once and for all and lift the guilt from her chest, feeling as if Stein's sudden snap of mentality had been her fault. It would take two or three times of the person calling for Kitiara to get her attention to snap her out of her deep thoughts when it was finally her turn, if she would be called in, she would swiftly stand and approach the office, following all commands without hesitation.

The Starfall Hall was eerily quiet as Ayato sat in his wooden chair, the weight of the news pressing heavily on his shoulders. The light from the afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the room, but the warmth did little to thaw the chill in his heart. The hall, with its grand pillars and banners bearing the crest of Hoshigakure, had always felt like a sanctuary, a place of order and authority. But today, it felt like a tomb, cold and empty, filled with the echoes of the past.

Kobiyashi was dead.

The words repeated themselves in Ayato's mind, a constant, gnawing reminder of his failure. He had tried to do the right thing, to show compassion in a world where mercy was often mistaken for weakness. Kobiyashi, the son of Stein—the Last S-rank Missing Ninja—had betrayed his father and had warned them of the attack that could have brought Hoshigakure to its knees. That act allowed them to mount a defense, defeat Stein in the dead of night, and save the village from destruction. Kobiyashi had chosen the village over blood, so Ayato had argued for his life.

The council had agreed—compassion was shown, but justice, too. Kobiyashi was imprisoned, but he kept his head, was allowed to serve his time, and eventually was free of the shadow his father had cast over him. Ayato had believed that when the time came, Kobiyashi would walk out of that prison, a man unburdened by the sins of his lineage, free to forge a life of his own, to find crystal blue waters, to become a fisherman, to live in peace.

But now, that hope was dead. Kobiyashi was dead.

Ayato clenched his fists, his knuckles white. He had received the news early before the whispers had spread throughout the village, and the rumors and speculation had begun to swirl like a storm. An attack on Kobiyashi’s prison cell, a brutal end to the boy’s life. Ayato didn’t need to be told who was responsible—he knew. He had seen this coming and had sensed the danger, but he had allowed himself to hope that Hoshigakure could be better, that they could be more than the sum of their past.

But hope was a fragile thing, quickly shattered.

The door to the Starfall Hall creaked open, pulling Ayato from his thoughts. He didn’t need to activate his Byakugan to know who had come to seek an audience—he recognized the name and connection even before the messengers had spoken—the last remaining daughter of Stein. The irony was bitter, almost laughable, that on the day he learned of Kobiyashi’s death, he would be forced to face another remnant of the past he had tried so hard to leave behind.

Two men in blue coats, members of his Public Security Division, escorted the girl into the room, their faces stern, eyes scanning the hall for any sign of threat. But there was no danger here—not the kind they could defend against. Ayato’s frustration flared as they hesitated near the door, their hands hovering near their weapons.

“You require us to stay in the room, sir?” one of them asked, his voice tentative.

Ayato’s gaze hardened as he looked at the man. “What is she going to do with you outside of it?” His voice was choked with anger, rougher than intended, but the frustration was too much to contain. The PSD men quickly bowed heads and left, the door closing with a heavy thud behind them. Now, only Ayato and the girl remained.

The white-haired woman stood before him, her eyes reflecting the storm within Ayato’s heart. She was young, far younger than he had expected. The last time he had seen her, she had been a child, barely old enough to understand the weight of her father’s actions, but time had a way of changing people, of turning innocence into something more challenging and sharper. There was a resolve in her eyes, a determination that reminded Ayato too much of the man who had once threatened everything he held dear.

But children bear no sin of their forefathers.

He reminded himself of the words Yasaki had spoken to him long ago when he was still a hotheaded lad, quick to anger and quicker to act. Yasaki had been wise, patient, everything Ayato had struggled to be. Now, as Hogokage, he had tried to live by those lessons, to temper his fire with the calm of experience. But today, that calm was slipping, the fire threatening to consume him.

“Say your peace,” Ayato commanded, his voice cold as he regarded the woman before him.

WC: 774

Very little of Kitiara reflected that of her father; both parents were adorned with white hair. And where her father kept his usual lab coat appearance, Kitiara had taken more towards the garbs commonly found in Hoshigakure. She had seen many leadership changes over the few years that Kitiara had been in and out of the village with her adoptive parents when they sold their goods. The longest-running by far has been that of the man standing before her. However, her blue eyes that reflected that of her birth mothers were tainted with the flecks of sickly green that her fathers seemed to almost glow with. Only those who were close and paid attention would catch the imperfections, and even then, only those who knew the mad scientist would recognize such a unique shade of green for an eye.

The Long hair would be pulled back to keep it out of her face, draped along her back, and she would remember the last time she had seen the lord kage, but she was much younger than him. She could tell something was wrong. However, he was acting just like her adoptive father did when they lost a cow on the farm, but it was beyond his control; nature took its course. With this knowledge and what she had already heard, her eyes would drop, and her voice would weakly ring across the room. "So then it is true, sir...Kobiyashi has perished. It would seem you did not need me to come and do the natural final kinship duties of identifying the body." As she spoke, her voice shook, although she may be much older than she should be physically. Her mentality and emotional maturity still needed time to catch up, so she tried acting at the proper age. Clear signs showed as her shoulders shook.

The White haired girl would eventually fail and collapse to the floor crying. She knew she did not have to say anything, as being the Kage, he tracked his ninja's whereabouts, but she would speak in broken sentences between her fits of crying. "Did you know that when Kobi was becoming a ninja under you, and Father Stein had found me, Kobi-San would come and visit me...tell me of his adventures and our Onee-san and how he looked up to her for guidance..." and other such little memories of Kobiyashi's little jaunts down to her village whenever he had the chance. Eventually, she calmed down enough and sat up and faced in the direction of Ayato. Kitiara would look up at him.

"It's my fault....it is all my fault, Lord Kage. If Father had never found out about me, he would have never realized that his goal was accomplished and he had nothing left to accomplish in life. Kobiyashi's death is also my fault." She would curl her knees to her chest at this point, coddling herself to make herself feel better as she tried to bear the weight of others' choices. "Father told him that his orders were to stay with me and ensure nothing happened to me...and I was worried about the village, and I could tell so was Onii-san, and I told him to go, I encouraged him to go. We knew he could not stop Father, neither of us could, he was on a suicide mission from the start. But Kobiyashi just wanted to ensure that no Innocent got hurt. Then he got locked up for it, and now..." Kit would tuck her face between her knees and chest, effectively hiding it for now. She needed to take a moment and breathe, let everything sink in or wash away, and do whatever it would do.

Ayato's sharp gaze, wearied by time, fixed on Kitiara as she collapsed before him. He had witnessed many faces twisted by grief and regret—some genuine, others mere masks—but the rawness of Kitiara's sorrow struck a chord deep within him.

Her slender form trembled violently with her sobs, and for a fleeting moment, the steely façade of leadership faltered. Years of ruling and warring had forged him into an iron figure, yet here was a reminder of the human cost beneath each decision.

As Kitiara spoke through her tears, recounting the tale of Kobiyashi and the tragedy that led to his end, Ayato’s gaze softened, though his face remained a stoic mask. He was well-acquainted with her story—his eyes had tracked every whisper and shadow of his shinobi. The weight of responsibility was a constant burden, but her words underscored its stakes.

When she turned the blame upon herself, curling into a tight ball of remorse, Ayato moved at the edge of his seat. His presence was a quiet storm, a blend of authority and compassion. His low and steady voice carried the undercurrent of his hidden burdens.

“Guilt is a keen blade, Kitiara,” he said, his tone edged with a gentle wit, “but remember this: in our world, fate is not spun from a single thread. Your father’s ambitions were one strand in a vast, tangled tapestry. You are merely a thread among many, and none alone define the whole.”

He let the weight of his words hang in the dim hall, where the flickering torches cast shadows that seemed to blend with the room's sorrow.

“Kobiyashi’s death is a sorrowful tale, but it is not yours to carry alone. His path was fraught with peril, and though his choices were noble, they came with inevitable risks. You have shown courage and compassion—traits that reveal the true measure of a shinobi.”

Ayato’s gaze softened, offering a rare glimpse of the man beneath the Kage’s stern exterior.

“Grieve for him, yes, but let not his death shackle your spirit. Honor his memory by seeing the full scope of the choices and sacrifices that have led us here. Life’s paths are many, and not all are clear. What matters now is the path you choose to walk forward.”

With that, Ayato turned slightly, his eyes drifting to the shadows on the wall, a silent acknowledgment of the burden of leadership. In such moments, he was reminded of the flickering humanity beneath the weight of his role.

[WC: 414]

Without looking up from her legs at first, Kitiara would say, loud enough to be heard, "Stein did DNA tests just to be sure, and when they came back, he left them with me and a letter. I read the letter after Kobiyashi had left. Something to do as time has passed cause, at that moment, we did not know it would be suicide, not truly. I knew it was when I read the letter. Stein left within the letter his dream to create the perfect being. How he experimented one after another and even created artificial life when real life was thought impossible..." This was when Kitiara would not only look up but stand up, pulling the worn-out letter, worn from being read over so many times, but it still read enough.

My Perfect Kitiara, I have a long story to tell you and not a lot of time to say it, and I know this letter will not suffice, but a time will come when you will choose your own. You will understand this then. But for now, since meeting you, I have felt something I never thought possible, which is both a blessing and a curse for me, for I am now fulfilled in life. However, you have a good life where you are, and I cannot bring myself to snatch you away from that, nor do I wish to torture you with such thoughts as being possible. Kana will be traveling with me, but your adoptive, lap-grown brother will stay with you, for I plan to do something radical that way. At the same time, you may be upset over our name; you can take your mother's name at least, and the prosecution will not always be automatic against you. I am sorry I will not get to see you grow up, and when you get old enough to visit Ayato, be it to become a ninja or for another reason, please let him know I am sorry for what I did; there was no other way for life to end for me. I had to force his hand in the opposite direction than he wanted, and I had nothing more to achieve in life. And after all this time, I thought that the perfect being would be created either within a lab or on a table, being pieced together. Love Your Father

Kitiara folded her arms and stepped back after handing the letter to Ayato for him to read at his leisure, keeping herself withdrawn. Something she had been thinking for a hot minute entered her mind, and she would speak up only if there was silence and it was permitted. "I think the best way for me to honor Kobiyashi's Memory at this point would be to take his place amongst the ranks and do my best in his stead, " Kitiara told Ayato and waited to hear his idea. Did he think it would be a good idea, or did he think she maybe needed to live for herself? The problem with that was she was much younger mentally than most. She was very far off from the time frame of needing to find herself, and

Ayato sat in his high-backed chair, posture as straight as the blade at his side, yet his white eyes, flecked with lavender, bore the weight of countless battles. It had been years since he was the youngest in a room—those days now seemed like distant echoes before the Fifth Great Ninja War had carved deep scars across the land and his soul.

Across from him, Stein's daughter fidgeted, her movements restless and childlike despite her mature frame. Her innocent demeanor clashed sharply with the grim atmosphere of Starfall Hall, unsettling Ayato and serving as a stark reminder of how much both the world and he had changed.

"The perfect being," Ayato mused aloud, his tone tinged with dry amusement. "Yes, I heard he had been playing that flute for some time. Never quite understood it myself." His words faded, yet an undercurrent of curiosity lingered in his voice. Stein's obsession had become the subject of many whispered conversations, a topic that invited more questions than answers.

Kitiara stepped forward, her movements deliberate and precise, starkly contrasting with the young woman beside her. She extended a worn, creased letter towards Ayato. He accepted it, fingers brushing lightly against hers—a fleeting connection amid the uncertainty. Unfolding the parchment, he began to read, his eyes tracing Stein’s meticulous script.

When he finished, Ayato placed the letter on the arm of his chair with reverence. "Say what you will about the man," he remarked thoughtfully, "Stein did know how to write a letter." A heavy silence followed, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. His gaze drifted to the flickering torchlight, flames dancing like memories of past battles.

The perfect being... not a product of a lab, but a creation of life’s natural course. A melody only Stein could truly hear, perhaps.

"A perfect being," Ayato repeated softly, testing the words. "A creation not of science, but of circumstance, of the life that flows through us all." He leaned back, eyes narrowing in contemplation. "Suppose there is some truth to that. We are all shaped by the world around us, molded by our choices and the paths we walk. But perfection... that is as elusive as peace."

He fell silent, memories of a simpler time when he had looked up to those older and wiser flooding his mind. Now, the weight of leadership pressed heavily on his shoulders, and the young looked to him for guidance.

Ayato stared at Stein's daughter, the silence between them thick with tension. He felt the urge to reject her, to send her away and be done with it. Yet, something in her eyes—a steadfast resolve—made him hesitate.

"Children bear no sin of their forefathers," the words echoed in his mind, a reminder of who he once was and the lessons learned through harrowing experience. Yasaki had shown him mercy when he least deserved it, giving him a chance to prove himself. Could he do any less for the woman before him now?

Ayato exhaled slowly, the anger that had gripped him beginning to subside. "Very well," he said finally, his voice calmer. "You will have your chance. But know this—I will be watching. One misstep, one hint of betrayal, and you will find no mercy in Hoshigakure."

Kobiyashi’s death had cast a long shadow over the day, a shadow that would not quickly fade. Ayato knew there were forces at work in Hoshigakure he could not yet see, threats lingering just out of sight. But he would face them, as he always had, with resolve and determination.

For now, he would allow the girl her chance. But he would remember who she was and the blood in her veins. The past was never truly gone, no matter how much one might wish otherwise. It lived on in the choices they made and the consequences they reaped.

And Ayato knew that the hardest choices were yet to come.

[WC: 648]

Kitiara would hear the words she wanted to, but in a manner that was relatively much like a warning, at which time she would say to him, "Ojisan, Please do not worry; I am nothing like my Father. I may give him that honorific, but any grief I bear has been for my brother, him I grew close to; I did get that Father Daughter connection I yearned for once upon a time from Stein when he came of the few times he did, but he once told me it was hard for him, for I was to much like my mother Mitzsuki Kaguya for him to bear to be in his presence for long periods or often periods. Kobiyashi was the one who would frequent me, and Kana was much more like our Father and stuck by his side. I do not condone nor grieve my father and his actions, or saddened by his loss, Only wish he could have looked past that My presence on this earth gave him that feeling of accomplishment for the perfect being. That way he may still be around, only what could have been for us is what saddens me, However my adopted family did their best for raising me. This news of my brother, when it reached our little hovel, was what caused me to reveal the truth of it all to them; that's when they suggested that I come to you and tell you everything as well...During this meeting, discussing Kobiyashi, and remembering his dreams, I decided my dream...is to make his dream come true. So I thank you for the opportunity to serve you as he once did Ojisan." With that last bit, Kitiara would bow and keep the bow until she felt comfortable standing or was told to raise it.

What Kitiara was telling Ayato in all this was that while she knew her father and felt the connection, she did not care to make any dream of his a realization, but Kobiyashi's dream, however, was one she would see come to life. As she bowed, she knew, however, that it would take time for her to help her brother's name to become fully clear and that Kobiyashi would likely do what he would have to to make up for their father as well. But she had already opened her mouth and sealed the deal, and as much as her inner child wanted to throw a fit, she just kept breathing herself through it, already committed to the idea. She waited to know her first set of orders or even the first series of questions.

Ayato sat back in his high-backed chair, the leather creaking beneath his weight as he relaxed, if only slightly. The flickering torchlight cast shadows across the stone walls, dancing in time with the turmoil within him. Kitiara’s words had stirred a reflection he wasn’t quite ready to confront, yet here they were, laid bare before him.

With a voice both fierce and vulnerable, she had declared that she was nothing like her father, a figure of authority and conflict that had shaped her world. Her feelings for Kobiyashi were plainly stated, a fact that cut through the pretenses and posed a more profound question of loyalty and legacy.

Ayato’s lips curled into a wry smile as he leaned forward, the motion slow and deliberate. “I certainly hope your handwriting is nothing like Stein’s,” he said, his tone laced with dry humor. “Though truth be told, the words in that letter did strike a chord. It would have been the ugliest handwriting I had seen if it weren’t for Akabayashi’s, and that’s saying something.” His mind drifted to the vulture of Hoshigakure, perched in Kiri, known far and wide for his atrocious penmanship—a dreadful scrawl that seemed to twist and slither across the page.

He glanced at Kitiara, his gaze steady, though the edge of amusement still lingered in his eyes. “I’ve been called many things in my time,” he continued, leaning back in his chair and stretching his legs. “But Ojisan was never among them.” He chuckled softly, a sound tinged with both delight and fatigue. “I’m barely twenty-five, though I’m closer to twenty-three. But twenty-five has a certain ring to it, don’t you think?”

He let the words settle in the room's quiet, a moment of reflection amid the chaos that often surrounded his life. Acknowledging the small deceptions he allowed himself—the little lies that softened the harsher edges of reality—was an odd comfort. As he looked at Kitiara, he could see the echoes of his youth in her eyes, a reminder of how the cycle of time and duty continued, unyielding and relentless.

It seemed that the past was never far behind. It lingered in the corners of his mind, in the shadows of the Starfall Hall, and in the lives of those who stood before him now. Ayato knew their choices would ripple through the future, shaping the world in ways both seen and unseen. And as he regarded Kitiara with a thoughtful gaze, he wondered what mark she would leave on this ever-turning wheel of fate.

[WC: 420]

Kitiara blushed as he referred to his age and her remarks as to calling him Ojisan, at which she would bow again, quickly speaking, "No disrespect meant M'lord or reference to age or appearance of age, rather just....referencing you like an Uncle, as Oniisan, did to me. If it was too far, I apologize, and it will not happen again, M'lord." This Time, Kitiara would keep her head bowed in reverence as she sought his mercy and shied away in embarrassment at the thought of disrespecting lord kage. Kitiara, even without knowing who her father was and who the Lord Kage was to the man who held the title of father by blood alone, would never dare to disrespect the lord, for her adoptive parents had raised her better than that.

Kitiara felt the weight of Hall seemingly pressed upon her shoulders. Eventually, she would bravely look up and ask for her papers back rather politely; now, if Ayato were to shift through to the other paper, he would see the other paper was the DNA test Stein had done on Kitiara, which also said who her mother was. It gave no more information than that, but Kit was too naive to dig and ask for more information. All she knew was that her mother was dead, gave her away before Stein could find out about her, and that was pretty much it. Kitiara would not be reaching for the papers until she handed them, but she did wait patiently since asking. Her mind raced about the past five minutes and how Ayato would react. It was her childlike mind that she tried so hard to mature faster than usual since she took those pills. While she was relatively successful at times, her immature nature showed through to others, with no one knowing her situation except herself.

Ayato's gaze softened as Kitiara's apology hung in the air. She had meant no offense by calling him "Ojisan," she said, using the term out of respect as if she saw him as an uncle or an elder brother figure. Ayato waved his hand dismissively, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. “No harm done, Kitiara,” he replied with a genial nod. “Be at ease. Such terms speak of familiarity and trust, and there’s no harm in that.”

He took the papers she had presented—documents, letters, and a collection of other papers—and handed them back to her with a practiced motion. The formality of the exchange was a stark contrast to the relaxed air he had adopted. Ayato cast a cursory glance over the contents, his attention initially drifting past the tests Stein had performed on her during her youth. To him, they seemed the ramblings of a mad scientist—a frivolous pursuit of knowledge with little practical value.

However, his interest was piqued when he stumbled upon a name amidst the scrawled notes. Mitzsuki Kaguya. Ayato’s eyes narrowed as the name stirred a faint recollection. It was a name Kitiara had mentioned before, though he had barely caught its significance. Now, with the weight of familiarity pressing on him, he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“You know,” Ayato began, his tone taking on a contemplative edge, “your mother's name is rather familiar. A kunoichi in Hoshigakure bears your last name and has the same mother’s name.” He paused, allowing the words to sink in, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. “Her name is Sephora. And my, you do resemble her quite strikingly.”

His mind raced, weaving connections and possibilities. Sephora had always been a figure of intrigue—a woman whose lineage and claims had sparked more than a few whispers in the corridors of power. Ayato considered the potential of arranging a meeting between Kitiara and Sephora. It might yield insights into any possible lineage ties, bridging gaps that history had left untouched.

“There’s a notion,” he continued, his voice taking on a tone of scholarly intrigue, “that even Sephora and I have some shared history, albeit from different branches of the Hyuuga family. There’s talk of a division long past—a tournament a hundred years ago that split the Hyuuga into factions: the Green Leaf and the Red. It’s a tale fraught with drama and old grievances.” He offered a small, knowing smile. “But that’s a story for another time.”

Ayato leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming idly on the armrest as he contemplated the implications of what he had learned. The shadows of the past were stirring once more, and he wondered what new revelations awaited in the labyrinth of history and lineage.

[WC: 458]