Ibiki's daughter

6: My father's love

Jolin's POV 

I woke up, blinking my eyes in confusion. "Where am I?" 

"Home," a deep voice answered from the door of the green bedroom. 

I looked up to see a familiar face, one with scars on his face and a bandana with the metal protector on his head. He had a familiar open black trench coat and a dark gray military uniform.

My eyes widened in recognition. The same dark eyes reflected in my own.

"Dad?" He gave me that same gentle smile. 

The same smile whenever I woke up in the morning as a child. 

The same smile whenever we cooked together. 

The same smile that reminded me that we were family. 

"I finally found you, Kid."

The tears of loneliness, pain, and relief came as I stared at my father in shock. My body went slack, and the tears came falling. My mind couldn't comprehend that the miracle of actually reuniting with my father had happened. He came forward and wrapped his arms around me warmly, making me right at ease. 

"Dad!" I cried, his clothing muffling my cries. It wasn't until he actually spoke to me that I had realized how much I had miss my father.

Ever since my dad went to war and lost me, I've been crying at the age of four, wanting my father to come pick me up and hold me close. I cried so much when I went to bed at night, and I never let go of the only blurry photo I had taken of me and my dad with my Polaroid camera.

Every day was sickening for me. 

Every morning, I never saw my dad. 

Every time I came home from school, Dad wasn't home to say, "Hey Kid, I see you're back." 

Every time I fell down and scraped my knee, Dad wasn't there to patch my knee and say, "I knew you could handle it."

Every time the other kids made fun of me because I was parent less, he wasn't there to prove to them he was the best dad. 

Every time I accomplished something, he wasn't there to praise me. 

He was at war, and he didn't know where I was.

After I had entered Class E, Korosensei and everyone else slowly patched my broken heart. How many years had passed until then?

I don't remember. 

I was dead every time I got up just to go to school. 

I dreaded every time I went back to my tiny cramped apartment. 

I hated myself when I sat down alone to dinner by myself. 

I had to suffer being alone in the apartment, feeling so lonely in the big expanse of nothing. 

After that, I stopped looking at the picture of my dad I had framed and placed on the table. Sure, I brought it with me to Konoha, but I didn't dare look at it, for fear of crying. For fear of going through all the pain my classmates and teachers had worked so hard to heal. 

"You're home, Kid," Father kept soothing, rubbing my back. "You're back home." 

I didn't even have a picture of my mom. She died before I met her. My dad was the last thing I had of my family. 

Right now, I was angry, happy, sad, furustrated, and lonely all at the same time. I was definitely angry, but what or who should I be angry at? 

My dad? My dad wasn't the one in the wrong. 

Myself? I was also innocent. 

The war? Ha, as if I can do anything about my hatred at the war. 

"DAD!" I screamed, letting out my stress, pain, tears, and frustrations all out. My body shook uncontrollably, and my hands gripped his shirt desperately. My mind kept rejecting the fact he was indeed here with me. I wasn't able to accept that my father was with me. 

"Please don't leave me.....!" I sobbed. "Don't leave me alone!" 

"Shhh, it's okay, Kid," my dad soothed, using his pet nickname for me. It may seem strange, but I was his kid, and it just wasn't in his loving way to call me his daughter, or Jolin. It would be awkward, so calling me Kid was his way of showing his affection. 

"I'm not leaving you any time soon. Take it easy, Kid," Father coaxed, sitting down on the bed. He set me on his lap and stroked my back tenderly, resting his chin in my head. My breathing quieted down to hiccups, and my wailing turned to silent sniffing. 

We probably stayed like that for a few hours. I didn't care. I need my dad. 

When my cries had subdued completely, Dad released me and petted my head. "I'm sorry that I was unable to be there for you during those eight years, Kid," he said gently. "Nothing I say can tell you how I feel." 

"No," I croaked, sniffing. Dad handed me a tissue. "It's okay. I'm okay," I added, letting my head rest on his chest. I didn't know if I was trying to convince myself or dad. However, it didn't matter, and Dad just held me calmly in his arms. 

"Welcome home, Kid," he said. 

"Yeah. I'm home, Dad."