"This is a great honor," his father says, "a great honor indeed," and he doesn't look at Yakitaro. He doesn't look at his wife or at brothers and sister and in-laws either, all cramped together in the low-roofed house and staring at him like lambs trapped by the wolf, but he doesn't look at Yakitaro the most. Yakitaro can tell.
There are whispers in the back anyway. They've long since chased the children out -- apart from Yakitaro who stayed, who at eighteen is no child anymore, and apart from the nursing newborn on his mother's breast, who doesn't get that they're discussing her future.
Men'you, she was named, because right from the womb she had curls like a sheep. She's adorable.
She's just young enough for the transfer to happen painlessly, and their father says "there's no one else, anyway" in a way that means there were others but they didn't need the money as much. In a way that means 'don't judge me (I'm already judging myself enough for all of us.)'
So then Yakitaro nods slowly, and he steps forward, and he crouches in front of his baby sister. They'll treat her well in the village, of course, it doesn't pay to treat people like she is to become badly.
He smiles at her. She smiles back -- at this age it's likely gas, not communication, but it's still adorable.
Roushi is reaching the end of his life, and when he goes, they will need someone to transfer his demon into.
"Right," he says, and tickles the future Four-Tailed jinchuuriki's soft little cheek. "I'm coming with you."