Hyūga Unkawa snapped out of his thoughts, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face.
"Apologies, Lord Hizashi. I thought you were..."
"You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who came uninvited."
Dressed in a black kimono, Hyūga Hizashi waved his hand casually, showing no displeasure at Unkawa's mistake. He subtly tucked his faintly trembling hand behind his back and looked at Unkawa with a glint of admiration in his eyes. A gentle smile curved his lips.
"May I come in and sit for a while?"
"Of course," Unkawa replied without hesitation. He stepped aside politely to let the elder in.
"Sorry for intruding," Hizashi said as he stepped into the entryway. His sharp gaze swept over the sparse and modest interior, pausing briefly at the open door of another room filled with training equipment.
"I've already heard about what happened this morning," he said as they moved into the living area. "It was wise of you to act cautiously when you noticed someone sneaking into the compound."
As they settled onto floor cushions in the small living room, Hizashi let out a sigh and spoke first.
"I just didn't expect anyone would be bold enough to attack you right here in the village. How's your injury?"
Unkawa noticed Hizashi's eyes flick toward his hand and smiled lightly. "I got lucky. Nothing serious."
Hizashi nodded thoughtfully. "It's just us here—no need to be so formal in private." His tone softened. "Your father and I were close back in the day. If anything, it's my fault for neglecting you all this time. I'm glad to see you're all right."
Technically speaking, Hizashi was the head of the Hyūga branch family. But among the branch members, he had a fairly decent reputation. Right now, his demeanor toward Unkawa was more like a caring elder than a stern family leader.
He asked after Unkawa's recent situation, keeping things casual. As their chat continued, he hesitated a moment—he clearly debated whether to scold Unkawa for his earlier "impertinence" during the day, just as the main family elders had wanted.
But in the end, Hizashi said nothing.
He looked at Unkawa's still-youthful face, recalling the boy's late father and thinking about Neji's growing resentment toward the main family. A sigh welled up in his heart.
How could anyone not feel bitterness?
With how callous the main family acts, resentment is only natural. And all I can do... is try to soften the damage.
"You smashed those wooden stakes out front, didn't you?" Hizashi changed the subject with a wry chuckle. "Didn't expect such progress. Seems that injury of yours came with some unexpected benefits—activating your Byakugan. But remember not to overdo it. Training too hard can backfire."
"You flatter me, Lord Hizashi," Unkawa replied politely, though his voice remained calm. He didn't echo the compliment. "After all, I've only got myself to rely on from now on."
Those quiet words made Hizashi pause.
Guilt stirred in his heart once again. Regret, too.
Looking at the boy—so composed on the outside, but clearly hurting inside—Hizashi suddenly found he couldn't bring himself to ask the question that had been on the tip of his tongue.
Ask what, exactly?
Why the kid who used to be a total pushover is suddenly getting stronger?
Does it even need asking?
The death of his only family—his father—was more than enough to change a timid boy forever.
"..."
Hizashi absentmindedly licked his dry lips. That's when he realized—Unkawa hadn't even offered him tea.
Still holding a grudge, huh?
Fair.
All he could do now was offer what comfort he could.
"Well then," Hizashi said as he rose to his feet, brushing off his robes. "If you run into any trouble in the future, you can come to me. I'll be heading off—you must be tired. Get some rest."
He didn't leave right away, though. Instead, he reached into his robes and produced two scrolls, setting them gently on the low table in front of them.
"You've awakened your Byakugan," Hizashi said warmly, "and I assume you've already mastered the Eight Trigrams Thirty-Two Palms. These are the advanced techniques—Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms, and the ultimate, Eight Trigrams One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms."
Unkawa's eyes flickered as he stared at the scrolls. He understood immediately—this wasn't just kindness. Hizashi had acted on impulse, driven by guilt and a trace of pity.
The Hyūga main family always walked a fine line. They wanted the branch family strong—strong enough to protect them—but never too strong.
Aside from the secret art Eight Trigrams: Rotation, which was passed down only within the main family, the One Hundred Twenty-Eight Palms was another elite technique, considered the pinnacle of Gentle Fist. It was forbidden for branch members to learn without express permission.
While it wouldn't pose a threat to Kage-level elites, it was more than enough to cripple most jōnin in close combat.
At worst? A single blow could paralyze the opponent's chakra system, rendering them helpless and waiting to die.
Normally, only those branch members who demonstrated absolute obedience and loyalty would maybe be granted access.
If the main family discovered Hizashi had handed over these scrolls privately, he'd likely face harsh punishment—probably a fresh taste of the Caged Bird curse seal's soul-ripping agony.
The moment Hizashi laid the scrolls on the table, regret already crept onto his face. But before he could say anything—
Unkawa reached out and took them.
"Thank you," he said softly, head bowed, his face hidden in shadow. His shoulders trembled slightly. "My father's scrolls, his notes... everything was confiscated. If not for you, I really wouldn't know how to move forward."
"..."
Hizashi opened his mouth, then closed it again without speaking. A heavy silence fell between them.
Eventually, he sighed.
"Don't hate the main family," he said quietly. "This is simply the fate of us in the branch family. Your father... wouldn't want to see you suffer like this."
And with that, before he could change his mind or try to reclaim the scrolls, Hizashi finally left.
Unkawa remained seated, his head bowed. The sadness on his face gradually faded, replaced by calm. He lifted his head and looked out the window at the deepening night sky.
[Ding! Your lie has been judged as "Feigning Grief." Hyūga Hizashi experienced a strong emotional reaction—level: "Self-Doubt." You have gained 300 Reality Points.]
[Current Reality Points: 11,093]
"Not a bad haul today," Unkawa muttered, eyeing his balance. "If only more decent folks like Hizashi and Guy-senpai dropped by… I'd be rich."
Still, seeing his point total rise gave him itchy fingers.
Better keep at least 10,000 as an emergency stash…
That left a little over 1,000 points to play with. More than enough to cause some mischief.
His thoughts turned to the person he'd seen earlier that day—Hyūga Neji.
Maybe... today's a good time to stir the pot.
After a few moments of thought, Unkawa whispered in his mind:
"Manifest—an outfit that can hide my identity, block Byakugan and other sensory techniques, and is completely resistant to damage."
[Cost: 800 Reality Points. Proceed with manifestation?]
His face darkened. "Pitch black, huh," he muttered.
"...Yes."
[800 points deducted. Current Reality Points: 10,293]
As the system's confirmation rang in his head, Unkawa expected the gear to simply pop into existence. Instead, his shadow began to ripple.
A black, liquid-like substance oozed from beneath his feet, crawling up his ankles like ink come to life. It quickly spread, covering him entirely.
When he looked into the mirror—
A hooded black robe now adorned his body. Its hem flowed like smoke, not fabric. His face was completely obscured in a bottomless shadow beneath the hood.
[Shadowcloak: A robe forged from living shadow. Adapts to the wearer's size and shape. Perfectly conceals identity and obstructs most sensory detection and Byakugan. Repairs itself when damaged. Hides within the user's shadow when not in use. (Bound)]
At that moment, Hyūga Unkawa had only one thought.
Totally worth the 800 points.