Evening had settled peacefully over Konoha.
The night draped the village like a heavy gray cloak, while the four faces carved into the Hokage Rock loomed like gaunt giants, silently watching over the undercurrents stirring below.
In the courtyard, Hyūga Kumokawa stood at the center in his white training uniform, eyes closed, completely still.
Wood chips and broken fragments were scattered everywhere. Every training post around him had been shattered, the neatly kept lawn was torn up with craters and gashes, and splinters of the posts still carried streaks of blood that hadn't fully dried.
"Done."
Hyūga Kumokawa opened his eyes, glanced at the panel floating before him, and smiled. "Finally have some long-range and heavy-hitting taijutsu."
[Taijutsu: Gentle Fist Technique: Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms (C-rank), Eight Inner Gates: Gate of Life (Forbidden Technique), Gentle Fist Technique: One Hit Body (B-rank), Air Strike (A-rank)]
"I copied Ōtsutsuki Kaguya's Eighty Gods Vacuum Attack. With her kind of talent, though, it was probably nothing more than a casual flick of the wrist—brute force that could send bricks flying."
He shook off the drifting thoughts, looked up at the wrecked courtyard, and hesitated for a moment. In the end he left it as it was and walked into the house.
After pushing himself through an intense morning session with Might Guy and then burning through the rest of the afternoon developing new techniques, all he wanted now was to rest.
He had barely stepped inside when a figure appeared at the edge of the courtyard.
The newcomer froze at the sight, stunned.
What happened here?
Frowning, the visitor moved silently into the yard, paused for several seconds in front of the door, then reached for the handle.
The instant his fingers touched it—
Bang!
The door flew open from the inside with explosive force, slamming outward hard enough to shake the frame. The impact surged along the handle like it meant to crush the visitor against the lawn or drive straight into his body.
"Hm?"
The man blinked, then instinctively pressed his palm flat against the door and released a burst of Gentle Fist chakra. The two forces collided and canceled out, the incoming power melting away like water swallowed by the sea.
Inside the room, Hyūga Kumokawa stopped the moment he realized who had come.
The door creaked open.
When he saw the face outside, even Kumokawa paused.
"Lord Hizashi?"
He recovered quickly, a trace of apology crossing his features. "I'm sorry, Lord Hizashi. I thought it was—"
"No need to apologize. I'm the one who showed up uninvited."
Hyūga Hizashi, dressed in a black kimono, waved the matter aside. He hid his slightly trembling hand behind his back and looked at Kumokawa with clear approval. "May I come in?"
"Please." Kumokawa stepped aside with a small smile.
"Excuse the intrusion." Hizashi entered the genkan and swept his gaze over the simple, sparsely furnished interior. His eyes lingered briefly on the open door of the training room filled with equipment.
"I already heard what happened this morning. You were right to strike first when you sensed someone sneaking into the estate."
They moved to the living room and sat down. Hizashi let out a soft sigh. "I just never expected anyone to target you inside the village. How are your injuries?"
Noticing Hizashi's glance at his hands, Kumokawa smiled. "I got lucky. They're already fine."
"It's just the two of us. No need to be so formal." Hizashi nodded. "Your father and I were close. I feel I failed you by not keeping a closer eye on things. Seeing you unharmed is a relief."
Truth be told, the nominal head of the branch family had a good reputation among them. Right now, for instance, his tone toward Kumokawa was gentle and warm, more like an elder than a clan leader.
Hizashi asked after Kumokawa's recent days, but as the conversation flowed he suddenly hesitated. In the end he chose not to deliver the scolding the main family elders had suggested about Kumokawa's midday behavior.
Looking at the boy's youthful face, remembering his dead father and the resentment Neji now carried toward the main house, Hizashi could only sigh inwardly.
The main family's harsh conduct had naturally bred bitterness. All he could do was try to soothe it.
"Those broken posts outside—they're your work, aren't they?" Hizashi changed the subject, his voice full of emotion. "Your progress is astonishing. You even awakened the Byakugan through that ordeal. Still, be careful not to push yourself too hard and get injured."
"You flatter me, Lord Hizashi." Kumokawa remained polite but did not echo the praise. His tone stayed calm. "After all, I'm the only one left now. I have to rely on myself."
Hizashi faltered, then felt a fresh wave of guilt and regret.
Seeing the calm mask over the boy's obvious inner sorrow, he found he could no longer ask the question that had been on his mind.
What was there to ask?
How a former failure had suddenly grown so strong?
The answer was obvious.
Losing his only remaining family—his father—had been enough to change a timid child forever.
"…"
Hizashi unconsciously licked his dry lips, only then realizing the boy had not even offered tea.
There was still some resentment in his heart, after all.
The least he could do was offer what comfort he could.
"Very well. If you ever run into any trouble, come to me." Hizashi stood. "I'll head back now. You must be tired too—get some rest."
Instead of leaving immediately, he took two scrolls from his sleeve and placed them on the low table. His voice was gentle. "Since you've already awakened the Byakugan, you should have mastered the Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms. These contain the advanced Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms."
Kumokawa's eyes flickered as he looked at the scrolls. He knew the man had acted on impulse out of guilt and pity, spending a heavy price.
The Hyūga main family wanted the branch members strong enough to protect them, yet not so strong that they became a threat.
Aside from the secret technique Eight Trigrams Palms Revolving Heaven passed down only by word of mouth among the main house, the Sixty-Four Palms was one of the advanced arts that branch members could only learn with explicit permission.
It meant little against opponents on the level of the Five Kage, but against most jōnin in close combat it was devastating. It could slow or block chakra flow at best; at worst, the victim would be unable to use ninjutsu and left waiting to die.
Only branch members who had proven their loyalty and dedication to protecting the main house were ever allowed to learn it.
As for the so-called Eight Trigrams One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms, Neji had used it only once in an anime-original episode; it never appeared in the manga. The Sixty-Four Palms was likely the current limit of the Gentle Fist style.
If the main family discovered that Hizashi had secretly taught it, he would face severe punishment—most likely another taste of the Caged Bird seal's soul-piercing agony.
The moment he produced the scrolls, Hizashi had already begun to regret it. But before he could speak, Kumokawa had already picked them up.
"Thank you." Kumokawa kept his head lowered, face half-hidden in shadow, shoulders trembling slightly. "They took my father's technique scrolls and notes. Without you, I truly wouldn't know how to continue."
"…"
Hizashi closed his mouth, the words he had been about to say dying unspoken. After a long silence he could only sigh. "Don't hate the main family. This is the fate of those born into the branch. Your father would never want to see you suffer like this."
With that, afraid he might change his mind and ask for the scrolls back, Hizashi left for real this time.
Hyūga Kumokawa remained seated in the living room, the sorrowful expression on his face gradually smoothing into calm. He lifted his gaze to the deepening night beyond the window.
[Ding! Your lie has been judged as [feigned sincerity]. Hyūga Hizashi experienced intense emotional turmoil, reaching the level of [self-doubt]. You have gained 1,500 actualization points.]
[Remaining actualization points: 12,293]
"Today was quite the harvest," Kumokawa murmured, looking at his points. "If only a few more good people like Lord Hizashi and Guy-sensei would drop by."
Yet seeing his balance grow comfortable, he felt his restless heart stir again.
To be safe he would keep ten thousand points in reserve. A little over a thousand was more than enough to cause some trouble.
The first person who came to mind, of course, was the one he respected most—Orochimaru.
"Looks like the time has come to tamper with the scrolls in Orochimaru's hands."
To him, Orochimaru was nothing more than a useful test subject.
And right now Kumokawa had a rather bold idea.
After thinking it over, he silently commanded, "Manifest—add follow-up content to the scroll in Orochimaru's possession. Set the requirement that only those who have mastered Living Corpse Reincarnation can unseal and read it. The content states that when a ninja dies carrying extreme resentment, their soul will materialize…"
He described his requirements in detail. The response came quickly.
[Spend 100 actualization points to manifest?]
Since it was only text and a simple seal, the cost was low.
"Manifest," Kumokawa answered.
Once it was done, his eyes flickered again. He remembered seeing Hyūga Neji earlier that day.
Orochimaru was too far away; results would take time.
There was no need to wait idly. He could start with someone closer, and Neji was an excellent choice.
After a moment's thought he commanded, "Manifest—clothing that can conceal identity, block the Byakugan and other sensory abilities, and will not be damaged."
[Spend 2,000 actualization points to manifest?]
"That's expensive," he muttered, but still replied, "Yes."
[2,000 actualization points deducted. Remaining actualization points: 10,193]
He waited for the item to appear, but instead his own shadow began to change.
Black fluid surged up from beneath his feet like liquid, crawling over his ankles and gradually covering his entire body. Kumokawa raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror.
He was now wearing a hooded black robe. The hem rippled and flowed as though alive rather than woven fabric. His face was hidden in bottomless shadow.
[Shadow Robe: A black robe formed from shadow. It adjusts its shape to fit any host size, interferes with most forms of spying and sensory detection, and automatically repairs itself like liquid if damaged. It normally remains hidden within the user's shadow (bound).]
Right now Hyūga Kumokawa had only one thought.
Those two thousand actualization points were worth every single one.
***
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