Hattori Seiko didn't tend to be the nervous sort, but this conversation they wanted to have with their father felt like an ominous rain cloud looming overhead. The most important thing in their life, besides loyalty to family in general, was not letting their father down. Disappointing him was an omnipresent worry, something that the young wolf would likely never shake. Nose low to the ground as they walked, sniffing out their father's scent, Seiko slowed as they neared the communal space in the center of the bamboo forest. Nowhere else in the bamboo forest felt quite so secluded as this one, even with the openness; here flowers and other plants grew plentifully, fed from the sun that beamed in from above. Knowing it was a place no wolves could even dream of accessing outside of Tojo-Kai's ranks made it feel special. Almost sacred, somehow. His scent was fresh enough that he couldn't be far now, and Seiko let out a bark to catch their father's attention, hoping he could talk with them for a moment.

Hattori came when called, though he was unsure of what his daughter required from him. Shouldering through the bamboo, he found her, the greys and browns of her coat well suited to the shadows of the Maze. She near blended in with the scenery, her eyes dark like her oldest brother. He stood there for a moment, his silver gaze roving over her form, she seemed physically fine, but wouldn't have sought him out for small talk.

So what then?

"What do you need?" He asked, to any other family it might seem cold and impersonal, but it was simply how things were done here. Seiko was one and the same.

The way Seiko's heart beat a little harder in their chest was annoying. Quiet and still as they waited for their father to arrive, they willed it to slow, but the child found they couldn't quite control it the way they might their breathing. When he finally did arrive, they wished they felt much calmer than they did, but their dark eyes didn't betray the nervousness that overwhelmed them. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about," Seiko started, but immediately found themselves wishing they hadn't started off like that. They'd never been one for small talk - why now? "But I'm not quite sure how to say it." Or even what I'm trying to say, they thought. Brows furrowed, a moment of weakness showing through, but Seiko made an effort to life their head a little higher. This had been something weighing on their mind lately, but they couldn't shake the feeling that it was trivial, that maybe they shouldn't bother telling anyone at all. "You know how you have sons, and you have daughters," Seiko started carefully. Explaining this felt hard, but important. They tried to shake away the worry that maybe it wasn't so important after all. "I don't really feel like either. I feel like maybe something else. Neither son nor daughter." Their eyes were expectant, though clearly a bit worried too as they looked from Hanzo to a stray patch of flowers and back again. Would he understand? Would their siblings?

Hattori was quiet, listened as Seiko spoke. Admittedly, her initial hesitancy gave him pause, lips pulling taut in a frown as his ears flicked forward to listen with intent. What could be so troubling? But then as his child continued to speak, struggling to untangle whatever it was she was wrestling with, he could almost see himself in her- how when he'd been a little younger than her he'd tried to speak his mind. His desires had fallen on deaf ears of course, but his Father in hindsight had not been a good man, father or husband. Hattori was better than that, even if many thought he wasn't.

It was a matter of identity then, he presumed at least. Thinking about it, he didn't feel particularly pressed to have hyper feminine daughters, or even overly masculine sons. Kuroki had always been soft in many of the ways Venom was, and that hadn't been an issue-their attitudes and personalities clashed too hard, too often. So Seiko felt as though she landed somewhere in the middle? Hattori could not say he understood why Seiko felt this way, but it was not something he took offence to, nor was it a hill he intended to die upon.

"Well, what would you have me call you?"Felt like a fair question to ask.

The moment was long and drawn out, though it wasn't helped by Seiko struggling to formulate what they wanted to say into actual words. It felt concrete, but abstract at the same time. The feeling of not quite belonging to the groups their brothers and sisters fell into. Not that any of them really fit any particular role, but she somehow felt even more detached from those labels. They were still figuring it all out, but expressing it to their father felt important. Even if he didn't understand, surely he'd at least oblige their request? They'd made mistakes and been punished for them, sure, but they'd been trying hard to follow in his footsteps. Too hard, even, some might say. Seiko released a breath they hadn't realized they'd been holding as he finally spoke. His words implied he had no intent on trying to convince them of anything other than what they'd said, and Seiko was grateful. Their father wasn't necessarily known for being the most open-minded wolf but maybe they were, when certain things really called for it. Seiko very nearly smiled, the corners of their lips quirking into the faintest of smiles before their expression once again softened. "Something neutral, I think. They. Child. Not daughter nor son." A bold request, maybe? But they spoke with conviction and certainty they'd never felt before. Consequences be damned. This was a hill that they would die on - what was living without being true to oneself? If Hanzo had taught his children anything it was that.

In some ways, Hattori could understand the comfort of neutrality, to not lean too heavily into one thing or another. The clan very much kept to itself, did things their own way, so even if he didn't quite understand-perhaps simply couldn't- Hattori saw no reason to deny them this. They made no demands and if anything, seemed to take some comfort from his...steady response. It did not have to be a big deal, and Hattori truly was not one for theatrics, big shows of drama or affection. Gender was...not exactly a topic he spent much time at all musing over, he saw it as black and white and little else. And yet, continuing the colour analogy, he would likely take offence to yellow-something drastically different, but grey?

It was close enough, familiar enough.

"Very well, we are kin all the same. If someone takes issue with it, I shall speak with them."

Seiko waited with baited breath for their father to reply. The moment was short, but felt excruciatingly long somehow. Something about the way he looked at them made them realize he wasn't about to discredit the conclusion they'd come to, but still Seiko was afraid that he might not understand enough to support their wishes. The moment of waiting was cut short by his declaration. Seiko breathed a sigh, almost of relief, at the finality of their father's statement. "Thank you, Otosan." Their response was short and succinct. There was little more to be said if anything, and Seiko knew their father valued his time as much as they did theirs. "I appreciate you." With that they gave a swift bob of their head, lifting dark eyes to scan their father's face to see if he required anyting more of them before departing. -exit Seiko-

They parted after that, nothing more needed to be said. And though it went without saying, Hattori appreciated Seiko too- for the most part his youngest children were all agreeable enough. He exhaled, moving deeper into the bamboo, shouldering past the thinner thickets to where the shadows outnumbered the light that filtered through the canopy. He wondered what Kiriko would make of this, she was a rather...absent mother at best, which honestly surprised him in a way, he had expected...so much more from her. She did not seem to still be healing from it all, so what then? Hattori was unsure, but started to feel the stirrings of displeasure, aimed solely at his wife.