Mother
Haruno Mebuki was a woman of many masks. Konoha didn't have a history of being kind to those who were inherently strange, and were all too quick to make a scapegoat.
The hatred of Orochimaru came far before any actual crime was committed. Not many civilians would acknowledge this fact. To do so would be to own that there was the possibility they created their own monster. That was a weight that most of these complacent civilians refuse to carry, as true as it may be.
Mebuki was of Konoha. With her smiles and candor she fit right in, bringing love and joy and The Will of Fire to others. And Kizashi loved her for it. She was never a strong kunoichi, but she was a steadfast one.
Mebuki was not always of Konoha. And certainly, there were no arguments that her family ever belonged, like her.
The Land of Iron held many tales not spread across the land. Of mystery, of myth. Of Magic. These tales were in her heart and in her soul as she held her daughter for the first time.
Her miracle child. The third trimester stillbirth she insisted to carry to term. The "mother's intuition" outweighing the father's grief and the medic nins cold logic. Risking her entire livelihood and safety on a feeling.
And when those uncanny, pupil-less green eyes opened and met hers, she wasn't afraid. She did not regret. She was thankful for the boon, no matter what it may cost her.
Her little miracle, her precious changeling. She might have to share this child with Other, but she loved so deeply.
With quiet gratefulness she accepted magic into her life, and this world shifted ever so slightly onto another path.