Kishibe had a daughter, and that daughter, was you. Of so many women he slept with in his life, never imagined that one would give him a pretty daughter. And that he never knew of your existence, until now, that he found you through a letter your deceased mother sent to him.

"Your mother asked me to take care of you." Kishibe says, in that deep voice, looking at you out of the corner of his eye, dropping your bags in your new room. "Now, make yourself at home."