Jiro did not think he was one to dwell on trivial topics. He knew he enjoyed hunting and tending to the herb garden nestled deep within the maze. Being around the quiet of the bamboo or the lull of the bay was comforting. A place he could learn, soak up everything there was to know, without being judged. Fighting wasn’t his forte - even if he begrudgingly took the lessons pressed upon him. And sure, he may get lost from time to time because who really could tell which way was north when the bamboo was so tall?

But now… His expression tenses as he stops mid scoop of dirt with his paw. Now that mother had disappeared and Sedna had also ran off, would his father need him? Or would Fuji suffice? Would he be allowed to leave? Not to search for Kiriko, but to see Auster. To venture further in Boreas. Because… did he even belong here? In the bamboo? If he didn’t agree with everything his father stood for, was this even home for him?

As droplets of rain begin to fall from the clouded sky, dampening his coat, Jiro places his paw back upon the ground. Lowering his rump to sit in the patch of dried plants that needed removal for the winter season, he lets out a sigh. Turning muzzle up toward those droplets, he closes his eyes and lets them soak into his face for awhile. Maybe it would bring him some clarity.

Hattori did not wander the gardens often, felt no need to since he knew full well that wolves more talented than himself tended to it. But still, he did enjoy this part of the maze, recognised all the hard work that went into maintaining it. He did not expect to find Jiro at here, at work it seemed, paws muddy as his gaze was averted skyward, the canopy of the maze blocking out a true view of the sky. Thick droplets pushed their way through the leaves, landing hard upon the leaf litter carpet, for a brief moment it looked like the boy was crying. Or if nothing else, the sky was sad for him.

"What is on your mind?"He asked the boy then, moving closer, claws rustling the leaves.

Through the soft sheet of rain, he hears someone approach. The obvious sound of claws rustling leaf litter draws Jiro's sorrowful expression down from the drizzling sky to where his father stands. A looming presence that soon would not be so looming. Jiro was growing fast, much like most of his siblings, and soon they would stand nearly as tall as Hanzo himself.

Regarding the Kaicho with a few blinks of his eyes, he sniffles and straightens up a little more. No use allowing the prim and proper Hattori to notice he might have been shedding a few tears. Instead, Jiro stands and readjusts the dirt that he had been digging as a way to give himself a moment before answering. With a quick sigh, he finally looks his father in the eye and readies himself to say what he has to say.

"My purpose within the bamboo is on my mind," Jiro states rather plainly for his usual demeanor. "I wonder if you need me or if my purpose lies elsewhere," the words stick in his throat, a harsh feeling as they rush out quickly. What would his father think?

Hattori knew how this would go, or at least he had a vague idea of it. From the very start he did not expect all of his children to remain within the bamboo, some had left to seek out their mother and had not yet returned. He had told them not to leave, warned that she had left of her own accord and did not deserve the effort and yet- well, they were no longer here. Perhaps they would be back, in a faint, distant way he hoped they would.

The frankness of his sons demeanour was refreshing, somewhat, his thoughts spoken plainly in a way that suited him. Very Hattori-esque. The topic of purpose and meaning was certainly a loaded one, and at his age it was understandable why Jiro was questioning it all. Even now Hattori found himself wondering, though was quick to stomp down ambling thoughts of doubt.

"Where would you wish to go?"Came his frank question, because he assumed Jiro had somewhere else he'd rather be.

His father's frank question left him dumbfounded. Well, he hadn't thought that far actually. Jiro's brows draw together, giving him an expression that rather matched his father's at times. Even as his ears draw backward and he tilts his chin back up to the sky to allow the droplets to wash over his face, he doesn't respond. The chill of the rain brings him a clarity that allows his clouded thought to brighten. Was there anywhere for him to go? No, not really. Was that what his father wanted to hear? That he should stay anyway because well, where else was he to be?

A resolution settles over Jiro as his chin tilts back down so he may meet his father's gaze. "There is nowhere specific," he begins, a breath settling heavy in his chest. "But I do not wish to be sheltered. I want to see what Auster and Boreas have. I want to know other cultures, other packs. Surely the bamboo and Nihon are not all that is out there," a brow raises slightly, not in defiance or disrespect, but more of a curiosity. What would the rigid and devout Hattori think of this?

In truth, there was certainly more out there, but Hattori and the majority of his kin had no interest in seeking it out, let alone experiencing it for themselves. The old ways, their ways were the best. It was undeniable in the Kaicho's mind; of course there were details here and there he didn't entirely agree with, but the foundations of society were solid and thus had stood the tests of time for that very reason alone. But in many ways Jiro was the black sheep of the family; and to Hattori's observation it seemed like a choice. Perhaps the boy did not make quite so much of a pest of himself as his older, half brother, but the resemblance was there. A desire to be anywhere else, notably.

Hattori exhaled.

"You are seeking permission to leave? Immediately?"

His father's direct question leaves Jiro balking. Well, yeah, he'd been questioning leaving. But now? Permanently? Jiro's jaw drops, blinking away the rain that still falls upon his face. "I-," he starts, but quickly closes his mouth. Of course he had questioned it. Wanting to leave home. He had been spending time more and more away from home lately, but... what about his siblings? His father? Would he be allowed to visit whenever he pleased?

Recovering from the stall in his brain, Jiro inhales deeply and exhaling before saying what he believes to be the mature route. "Not immediately," he begins slowly, leveling his gaze with his father once more. "I want to know my siblings will be okay without me," Jiro continues, feeling tense and uncertain. "But after that... I think it will do me good to explore," though there is hesitation, he hopes it will be okay with his father. Deep down, he also doesn't want to hurt Hanzo. His siblings were already strewn about and his mother had disappeared. While he knew his father did not outwardly show emotion, Jiro wondered if it would hurt if he did choose to leave immediately.

Hattori could respect Jiro's restraint; holding back the urge to take action in the here and now. Hattori made a low noise of acknowledgement in his throat, Jiro was more black sheep than Hattori would have liked, but he wasn't intolerable to be around. Though perhaps it was too early to say, who knows what his travels might turn him into? He let the silence settle a moment longer, his gaze roving over the strands of bamboo, in every direction he looked there they were. Safe and concealing, he couldn't fathom why anyone would want to leave. Even as a boy he hadn't wished to leave Iga- it was only by necessity had he fled his home.

"Very well. Anything else?"

His father's words at a last request have Jiro still for a moment. As much as he understood that he wasn't the favorite son or offspring in general, Jiro still wished and pained for his father's approval. He knew he was lazier than some of the others, carrying on in his days in a more jovial style, but he never understood why his father wished them all to be so stiff like him. A thought settled over him, wondering if maybe...

Before he could register what he was doing, Jiro gets up on his paws and closes the distance between himself and his father. He reaches out and wraps his front legs around Hattori's shoulders, leaning his head to the side to bury it into his father's scruff. Squeezing tightly, he closes his eyes and stays quiet for a second. Embracing the warmth of his father even if the hug isn't returned, it's still something he needed.