Shinobi Isekai: Round Two

Aminals

Uchiha Shuji looked down at his daughter. She was curled up under the threadbare blanket on their bed, snuggled close to her mother's side, as if the woman could offer some comfort. She'd been like that since the end of her first battle, refusing to speak to anyone in an infantile show of defiance. Tajima had openly criticized Shuji's decision to take her out a year early, and the faction supporting Kyou as a potential heir to the Clan had fallen silent.

Shit.

It was his mother's censure which stung the most.

The old woman had looked at him with barely concealed disdain, running gnarled fingers through her grandchild's hair.

"What did you expect, Shuji," she chided softly. "She's still a girl, no matter how you dress her up. There are things she just can't do."

Under normal circumstances, Kyou would have vehemently denied that assertion and proclaimed she was as good as any boy—a sentiment Shuju shared and encouraged—but now she just lay in her grandmother's lap and sniffed pathetically.

Where was the spitfire that insisted on defying him at every turn, eyes filled with mischief? This...lump... was not his child.

He sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. "Kyou."

She burrowed deeper into the mattress.

"Kyou," he said again, firmer this time. "Talk to me. I can't fix the problem if I don't know what it is."

Again, she ignored him. He knew his child well enough to know that forcing the matter would only result in more silence—she got her stubborn streak from him, after all—so he reigned in his anger as he reached out and pulled the blanket off of her.

She curled in on herself, hiding her face beneath a waterfall of hair.

"Kyou," he hooked his hands underneath her, pulling her into his arms. "I understand. A first kill is a terrible thing, but necessary. They would have killed you if you hadn't killed them first."

She didn't reply, choosing instead to hide her face behind her hands.

He was rapidly losing patience, but he held on. "Kyou, you can't keep acting like this. Life will only get worse for you the longer you hide yourself away. I know you know that."

She sniffed.

"Would you like something to do?" He forced the words out through gritted teeth. "I can find something for you to work on that will keep you from going on any missions for a while. Would you like that?"

She looked up at him, dark eyes limpid and wide.

Finally, a reaction.

"I'm sure Junsuke-jii-sama can dig up some old scrolls for you," he continued, encouraged. "After what you did with the Fireball, I have every confidence you can bend any of the Clan jutsu to suit your suiton."

Her thick straight brows furrowed and she fisted a hand in his kimono. "C-can I? Please?"

Her voice was weak and hoarse from weeks of disuse, but she'd spoken. It was a step in the right direction, and Shuji privately congratulated himself for holding out as long as he had.

"Of course, Kyou," he said with a smile. "So long as you keep up your training. We can't have you falling behind, now can we?"

Her expression closed off some, but she nodded, burying her face in his chest. He ran a hand over her silky hair, glad she'd finally come to her senses. Perhaps his mother was right, to an extent. He could still vividly remember his own first kill, though his sharingan had not activated until several years after. The scent of cooking meat had made him nauseous for weeks before his friends had managed to coerce him into eating it again. How much worse must it be for his child? A girl of playful disposition, with no friends due to her genius and position in the Clan, struggling alone with only a living corpse for comfort?