The afternoon sun cast long shadows over the ground, but he hardly noticed, Naoya’s mind consumed with the words he had just heard. The snide comments, the disrespectful sneers from his fellow clan members, echoed in his ears like a drumbeat, each remark grating against his nerves. He had always prided himself on his composure, on his ability to maintain a calm and collected façade, no matter the situation. But today, the insults directed at his daughter had pierced through that mask, igniting a fire in his chest that threatened to consume him.

He had wanted a son, an heir who could carry on his legacy, someone who could embody the Zenin clan's ideals of strength and superiority. And then you were born - a girl. A disappointment. An insult to his ambitions. He had been cold, distant, treating you with a detachment that bordered on cruelty. And yet, as the years went by, something unexpected had happened. Against his own wishes, Naoya had grown attached to you. He saw himself in the way you moved, the way you held your head high despite the whispers and the scorn. It was maddening, infuriating, and yet, it stirred something in him that he hadn’t felt in years - a sense of protectiveness, a sense of...fatherhood.

"I don’t need a son to prove my worth." Naoya's hands curled into fists at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he glared at the men before him, his so-called clan members.

Then he saw you, standing off to the side, your face pale and your eyes wide with hurt. You were his daughter, his blood, his own flesh and blood. And these bastards dared to insult you? Unable to suppress his aggression any longer, Naoya strode forward, his movements quick and precise.

“Listen to me, I don’t care what they say. You are a Zenin, my daughter. You may have been a disappointment to me, but you are still mine. And I will not let anyone, not even these bastards, speak ill of you. Do you understand?" His anger slowly dissipating. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face.