The sun dipped behind the compound walls, casting long shadows across the Hyuga estate. Neji stood outside the eastern courtyard where his father, Hizashi, practiced his forms in solitude. The air was cool, but the tension in Neji's chest warmed his body more than the setting sun. Today wasn't about training—it was about change.
Hizashi's movements were precise, elegant—a master of the Gentle Fist. He pivoted on the balls of his feet, each strike a whisper of fatal precision. When he stopped, sweat beaded lightly on his brow, but his breath remained steady.
Neji waited until Hizashi turned to him, eyes calm yet unreadable. "Neji. You're early for the evening drills."
"Otousan, I have a request," Neji said, bowing low. His voice carried a rare seriousness. Hizashi raised an eyebrow.
"Go on."
"I want you to teach me the Shadow Clone Jutsu."
There was silence. The chirp of a late cicada filled the space between them.
Hizashi blinked, his composure unshaken. "Why do you need a Shadow Clone Jutsu? It doesn't enhance our Juken style. Our clan has no tradition of ninjutsu that splits one's chakra."
Neji exhaled slowly, steeling himself. He had waited months to bring this up—waited for the right time, the right words.
"Sticking to a monotone style is making us weak," he said, looking directly into his father's pale Byakugan eyes. "We should strive beyond just our traditions. Now that you've become the pseudo-head of the clan, maybe it's time to set the foundation for the next generation—a generation that combines tradition with adaptability."
Hizashi folded his arms, looking toward the bamboo grove. The breeze stirred the leaves.
"The elders will not agree easily. They see our art as sacred. A Hyuga is Gentle Fist, and nothing else."
Neji nodded. "If we start small—select a few young, talented clan members and shift their focus slightly—it will cause no wave. But if their performance surpasses expectations, the rest will be forced to see. A new technique might even emerge."
Hizashi said nothing for a while. He remembered Hiashi's death. He remembered the coldness of the elders. He remembered the doubt whispered when he took charge. But he also remembered Neji's birth—how the boy never cried, how his eyes always seemed to search beyond what was there.
"Shadow Clone Jutsu is not a technique learned overnight," Hizashi finally said.
"Then let me fail as I learn. But I will learn."
The next morning, Neji was up before the birds. In the far back chamber of the estate, Hizashi handed him a scroll. Its seal was partially erased, as though its contents were not meant for Hyuga eyes.
"This scroll was given to me long ago during a joint mission with the Nara and Sarutobi. I never used it. You will need to figure it out on your own."
Neji unrolled it and began reading. The hand seals were complex. The chakra division explained within was delicate. It required immense control—not just to execute, but to maintain the stability of the clones.
Days turned into weeks. Morning the academy; Evening the training. He trained behind closed doors, avoiding the eyes of the elders. Each attempt left him drained. At best, he produced a pale, flickering afterimage. At worst, he collapsed.
But he persisted.
A month later, during a youth training session, Neji watched the other branch members spar under the guidance of an old Hyuga instructor. His cousin, Hotaru, a silent boy with great potential, faced an older main house girl who always gloated after victory.
Hotaru moved well but predictable. His strikes were clean, his stance rigid. The girl read every motion. In less than a minute, Hotaru was disarmed and winded.
Neji approached him after class.
"You're too readable," Neji said simply.
Hotaru bristled. "Then teach me to be unreadable."
Neji's eyes twinkled. "Come tonight. Just you."
In the moonlit training field behind the eastern wall, Neji showed Hotaru his imperfect clone.
Hotaru stared. "That's not a Hyuga technique."
"No. It's better. You'll see."
The clone flickered, unstable—but there. Hotaru's jaw dropped.
Weeks passed, and the small group of trainees under Neji grew from one to three. Hotaru brought his cousin Mei, and then another friend. All were branch members, quietly skeptical of the elders.
They learned the clone technique in stages—starting with chakra control, diversion, and mental mirroring. The practice enhanced their ability to feint, making their Gentle Fist strikes more deceptive. The very nature of the clone work fed into their taijutsu.
Even Hizashi began attending from a distance.
One evening, Neji asked his father, "What do you see in them?"
Hizashi responded, "Hope."