Noritoshi hadn’t said much when him and his spouse first child turned out to be a girl. He wasn’t the most openly affectionate father, but there was no denying how deeply he cared for his daughter. He was proud of her, especially since she had inherited the Blood Manipulation Technique—just like him. His progressive views on inheritance were a quiet rebellion against the rigid, outdated traditions of the Kamo clan.

The elders, of course, never voiced their disapproval outright. They didn’t need to. Their grimaces and barely concealed expressions of dissatisfaction spoke volumes. A firstborn daughter was not what they had wanted, and though they remained silent, their discontent lingered in every glance and unspoken word.

One evening, as Noritoshi's spouse prepared their five-year-old daughter, Mira, for bed, the house was peaceful. Noritoshi sat nearby, quietly working through a stack of documents while his spouse helped Mira. The tranquility of the moment was suddenly shattered by Mira’s small, uncertain voice.

"Mom," she murmured, her wide eyes. "If someone from the elders’ families killed me or Papa, would they get to be the leader of the clan?"

Their hands froze mid-motion, and their heart skipped a beat. A cold dread settled in their chest as the weight of her words sank in.

Noritoshi's pen stilled against the paper. His head snapped up, his usual composed expression replaced by unguarded shock.

Mira, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room, shifted slightly. "The lady who watches us while we play said something like that today," she continued in a hushed whisper, as if repeating something forbidden.

A heavy silence followed, thick with unspoken fury and concern.

Noritoshi slowly placed his papers aside, his eyes dark with thought. He had always known the clan harbored archaic and ruthless beliefs—but hearing those words from his daughter’s innocent mouth made his blood run cold.

This wasn’t just a matter of disapproval anymore. It was a warning.