The soft chime of the bronze bell outside the Hyuga estate marked midday. As the sun reached its zenith, casting a golden hue through the paper windows, the doors to the inner chamber slid open.
The attending physician stepped out, bowing with practiced grace. "Congratulations, Lord Hyuga. It is a boy—born at the hour of the sun's peak."
In the hallway, Hiashi Hyuga stood composed, his arms folded within the sleeves of his high-quality formal kimono. The cream, white, and soft gray folds of his attire glowed faintly in the midday light. His long, blackish-brown hair flowed neatly down his back, lending him a presence that was both regal and reserved.
Beside him stood a man nearly identical in appearance but slightly more relaxed in bearing—Hizashi Hyuga, his younger twin, dressed similarly, though with more subdued detailing in keeping with his place within the branch family.
Hiashi's expression, usually inscrutable, flickered with something quieter—relief, perhaps, or restrained joy. Hizashi, ever observant, stepped forward and bowed with measured grace.
"A fortuitous hour, Lord Hyuga," Hizashi said, allowing the smallest smile to grace his lips. "The sun at its peak—when shadow is shortest and light touches everything without favor. A fitting time for the birth of your heir."
Hiashi's gaze lingered on the closed doors a moment longer before he inclined his head. "Perhaps fate still holds a sense of poetry."
With the attendants dismissed and the chamber cleared, the brothers entered the room where the mother lay resting, her face aglow with a tired but peaceful smile. The baby was already swaddled and sleeping, nestled in her arms. She turned slightly, offering the child to Hiashi, who accepted him with uncommon gentleness.
The infant stirred softly in his arms, tiny fingers curling as if reaching for something unseen.
"He appears strong already," Hizashi said, standing nearby, his tone warm but respectful.
Hiashi nodded, his voice low. "He bears the weight of the clan the moment he draws breath."
"But he does not bear it alone," Hizashi answered, a quiet firmness behind his words. "He has his father's name… and his uncle's loyalty."
Hiashi looked at him, the silence between them held something deeper than words.
"I am fortunate to have you at his side," Hiashi said. "Whatever the clan may demand. I trust you'll help him remember who he is."
Hizashi bowed his head. "With honor, Brother. As a Hyuga and as your kin."
A moment passed, still and warm. The light from the midday sun bathed the room in gold, catching on dark hair and pale eyes—three generations linked by duty, blood, and something softer than either: quiet devotion.
Just then in the solemn and joyous moment Hiashi, caressing the infant's forehead, broke the silence "Hamura."
Hizashi turned his head gesturing Hiashi to repeat.He repeated himself, a rare thing, "Hamura. Hamura Hyuga". Hizashi gave a questioning look, as if asking the reason behind this name. "
Hamura, according to legends, was the founder of the Hyuga Clan." Hiashi explained. Hizahi looked at his brother with an expression akin to pity.
Hamura Hyuga. The name bore a strange sensation to it. No doubt about its gravitas, archaic, meaningful and unfortunately for the boy, heavy. Hizashi could see it in his brother's eyes, those pale eyes, impermeable and unreadable, held a strange expression. Part pride, part sorrow and part unwillingness. As if some part of Hiashi regretted uttering the name, wanting to retract his words, shelter his son from the name. Yet that's the cruelty of words, like arrows shot from a bow, they return not to the caster.
"That's a heavy name, Lord Hyuga. I fear it is too heavy for the boy" Hizashi voiced his concern, even through all the hierarchies and positions, he still was the infant's uncle. "The name brings expectations of the times bygone and binding of the traditions that have endured."
Hiashi chuckled mirthlessly, the tragedy was not lost to him. "I know, brother. A part of me wants to pull the words back." Hiashi sighed, caressing the infant's scalp. For once, those pale eyes of the hardened and impenetrable Head of the Hyuga had softened. Within the walls of the room, Hiashi was given the rare luxury of putting down the mantle of the Head, and just being a brother, a husband and now a father.
The name had turned a moment, filling the room with somber melancholy. A boy, yet to feel the pleasantness of the cold breeze, yet to feel the warmth of the hearth, yet to become aware of himself was already caged. Caged by a name that was older than the clan he was born in, traditions that defined them from times immemorial and expectation of those who no longer walk among them. It left a bitter taste in Hizahi's mouth, his brother, the mighty patriarch of the Hyuga, the epitome of Hyuga hierarchy and tradition sat, holding the fragile boy, looking vulnerable.
"Why name him Hamura?", inquired a feeble voice, the boy's mother, Katsumi Hyuga. Hiashi turned his attention, his eyes relaxing upon seeing his wife. Hisahi shifted closer, sitting next to his wife, letting her see the infant while holding him.
"It's a name that predates us. It's old. Older than us, than the clan….older than shinobi." Hiashi explained, his finger caressing along the baby's cheeks. Then he looked at Katsumi, "It's liberating. Freeing. Something that existed before conduct became tradition, before legacy hardened into compulsion.. " His eyes drifted to Hizashi, "Before birth spelled division"
His eyes met Hizahi's, the brothers held each other's gaze. A moment later Hiashi rose, offering the boy to Hizashi. After a moment of hesitation, Hizashi's arms cradled the boy. He admired his nephew, his sleeping form, a peaceful expression that Hizashi believed was lost in the world.
He brought the baby close, pressing his forehead against the infant and whispered, "May you be free."