A week had passed.
In the secluded back of his yard, Neji stood perfectly still, his Byakugan active. The veins around his temples pulsed with concentration. From the single Tenketsu point on the back of his neck, a hair-thin line of chakra extended into the air, shimmering almost invisibly.
This was his answer to the Byakugan's blind spot. A sensor net of his own making.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. The effort was not in the amount of chakra, but in the control maintaining the line so thin and pure. His body trembled from the strain of sustaining such precision.
With a sharp exhale, he released the technique. The chakra line vanished. He wiped his brow, his mind already racing ahead.
'I must master this for all 361 tenketsu,' he thought, the goal as daunting as it was necessary. 'The Byakugan is a tool, not a crutch. I cannot rely on it alone.'
He glanced at his hands, feeling the chakra within him swirl. "My reserves are pitiful," he muttered to the empty yard. Though larger than any other child his age perhaps even ten times larger, it was a drop in the ocean compared to what he would need to truly be free. His ambitions were bound by the finite energy in his veins.
Frustrated, he decided a change of focus was needed. He would train his water walking, lose himself in the simpler, physical demand of chakra control.
As he headed out, his path took him past the home of Hyuga Sei. He stopped cold.
Three men in standard shinobi flak vests were exiting the house. They were not Hyuga. A cold knot of dread tightened in Neji's stomach. Outsiders were only in a clan compound for one reason: official business.
"What is going on here?" Neji asked, his voice sharper than he intended.
The men exchanged a look. Two of them moved away, leaving their leader to face Neji. The man's expression was professionally neutral, which felt more alarming than any glare.
"Do you know the resident of this house?" the shinobi asked.
"Yes," Neji said, the word feeling heavy. "Hyuga Sei."
"He has been reported missing for a week. We are investigating." The man's tone was flat, efficient. It left no room for hope.
The world seemed to tilt. Missing. Neji's mind recoiled, scrambling for a logical, safe explanation. "Did he... become a rogue ninja?" he asked, a desperate attempt to frame Sei as alive, anywhere, rather than just gone.
"He did not. But the investigation is ongoing," the shinobi stated, his eyes already scanning past Neji, dismissing him. "We will inform the clan of any developments. Please do not enter the area. We must preserve the scene."
Neji could only nod, the motion numb and automatic. "Alright. Thank you for informing me."
The shinobi gave a curt nod in return and turned away.
Neji stood there for a long moment, the planned training forgotten. The compound, usually a place of strict order, now felt menacing and hollow. The motivation to train, to improve, to prove himself, drained out of him entirely, leaving behind a cold, heavy emptiness. He simply turned and walked away, directionless.
. . . .
The news arrived with the cold finality of an official scroll the next morning: Hyuga Sei was confirmed deceased by ANBU analysis. The evidence was conclusive, they said, though his body remained unrecovered.
In the training hall, the air was thick with the sound of light footsteps and controlled breathing. Neji moved through his katas against Hiashi, but his rhythm was off. His blocks were a half-second slow, his strikes lacking their usual piercing intent. His mind was elsewhere, stuck on the image of Sei's empty home.
He left an opening. A gentle, almost casual palm strike from Hiashi tapped his shoulder, a clear and undeniable break in his form.
"We are done," Hiashi stated, lowering his hands. His voice wasn't angry, but it was firm and carried a weight of disappointment. "You're somewhere else today, Neji. Your mind isn't on your forms."
Neji dropped his stance, his gaze falling to the floor. "My apologies."
Hiashi studied him for a moment, his Byakugan deactivating. "It is about Sei," he said. It wasn't a question.
Neji simply nodded, unable to find the words that wouldn't feel like a betrayal of his grief.
Hiashi let out a slow breath, a rare hint of something resembling weariness in his posture. "The life of a shinobi is often short. It is a reality we must all accept, especially in this clan." His tone was matter-of-fact, but not entirely cold. It was the voice of a man who had seen this same story play out many times before. "Grieve. But do not let it make you slow. That is a luxury we cannot afford."
He wasn't offering comfort, but a piece of hard, practical advice. In his own way, it was a recognition of Neji's pain.
"I understand," Neji said quietly, though the words felt hollow.
"Good. Go. Clear your head. There is no value in training when you are like this," Hiashi said, turning his attention to where Hinata sat watching. "You will only ingrain bad habits."
Neji bowed slightly. "Thank you."
He turned and left the hall, the weight on his shoulders feeling slightly different, no longer just grief, but now mixed with the pressure of Hiashi's expectations.
From the sidelines, Hinata had watched the entire exchange, her eyes wide.
"Otou-sama," she asked softly as Hiashi approached her. "Is Neji-nii going to be alright?"
Hiashi's gaze followed the path Neji had taken out of the hall. "He is strong. He will have to be." He then turned his full attention to his daughter. "Now, show me your stance. Remember, stability is the root of all power."
"Yes, Otou-sama."
Meanwhile, Neji walked through Konoha without seeing it. His feet carried him aimlessly. He kicked a loose stone, watching it clatter ahead of him, a pointless, frustrating action.
'Accept it. He says to accept it. How can I accept someone being erased? How can I accept that no one cares?'
The drive to train, to become stronger than the destiny imposed upon him, felt meaningless.
'What is the point of strength if it cannot protect anything?'
His head was down, his vision blurred by unshed tears of frustration and grief. And then, his wandering gaze caught a familiar, hated figure.
Leaning against a wall near a quiet crossroad, Hyuga Ryuji was talking to a kunoichi. And on Ryuji's face was not grief, not respect, but a smug, condescending smirk.
The person was a kunoichi with no clan, a woman named Ryuko. Her face was etched with a potent mix of grief and fury.
"Ryuji," she snarled, her voice low and dangerous as she grabbed the collar of his robe. "I know you had a hand in it. Don't you dare play innocent with me."
A slow, vile grin spread across Ryuji's face. He didn't push her away. Instead, his hands snaked out and gripped her hips, pulling her uncomfortably close. "And what exactly are you accusing me of, my dear Ryuko? I've been here in Konoha, perfectly behaved."
"You're a liar"
Ryuji merely laughed, then leaned in to whisper, his voice a toxic blend of mockery and suggestion. "Now that that particular obstacle is removed... wouldn't you prefer to be with someone of my standing? Someone who can actually protect you?"
"You're disgusting," she spat, shoving him back with enough force to make him stumble a step.
"Disgustingly fabulous," he corrected, brushing off his robes. It was then that his predatory gaze landed on Neji, watching from the shadows. His smirk widened. "Well, well. The Hyuga prodigy himself. Come to witness the drama?"
Ryuji took a step toward Neji, his taunting now finding a new target. "How was finding out your brother died? Hmm, looks like you haven't gotten much sleep, crying over that worm. I pity you. I'm very glad that he's dead."
From the way Ryuji looked at him, Neji needed no further hint to know who had killed Sei. Neji's eyes snapped open, his Byakugan activating instantly. His teeth gritted and his fists tightened, the veins around his temples bulging with power.
In that single, crystalline moment, Neji saw everything. He memorized the intricate network of tenketsu points across Ryuji's body, traced the flow of his chakra, and identified every weakness. He knew Ryuji was eager for him to attack, to lash out blindly the moment his anger peaked.
"Come on, hit me. Show me your anger," Ryuji jeaned, leaning forward to invite the reaction. "What's wrong? No retort? No righteous anger? I expected more fire from the Side Branch's so-called hope. You're just a coward after all."
For a terrifying second, Ryuko was sure Neji would lash out. But then, something shifted. The tension drained from Neji's shoulders. He unclenched his fists, took a slow, deliberate breath, and turned his back on Ryuji. He simply began to walk away.
Ryuji's smile faltered, replaced by irritated confusion. His taunts had hit a wall of cold silence. "That's it? You're just going to walk away? Pathetic!"
Neji didn't flinch. He didn't speed up or slow down. He just walked, but the set of his shoulders was different. The aimless grief was gone, replaced by a terrifying, glacial calm. A deep shadow flickered in his eyes, and a fire of pure, undiluted purpose was reignited within him.
Ryuko shot Ryuji a final, searing glare. "You will regret this."
"Unlikely," Ryuji clicked his tongue, watching her go before muttering to himself, "Such a ferocious spirit. It will make conquering her so much more satisfying."
Ryuko hurried after Neji, her hand half-raising to call out to him. But the words died in her throat. She saw the aura abeginning, not a hot, explosive anger, but a deep, cold darkness that seemed to swallow the light around him.
It was more frightening than any outburst. Seeing this, she understood. Words of comfort were useless now. She let her hand fall and watched him go, a chill running down her spine.
Neji headed straight back home to the backyard. He stopped near a tree and, without any warning, drove his fist into its trunk.
The wood splintered with a sharp crack, a large chunk breaking off under the force of his anger. His Byakugan, activated by his raging emotions, pulsed at his temples.
'I am still weak. Avoiding the truth... I can't accept what has already happened.' Neji looked up at the sky, his voice a hollow whisper. "I was naive."
He had thought his father's case was a singular tragedy, the only time the Main Branch would use its power to sacrifice a member of the Side Branch. But they could kill one of them just like that, without any repercussions. It was just like his previous world: people with power could wave their hand and a person would die.
His right hand twitched, the knuckles bloody, as he thought of everything that had been taken from him. His father's death, his mother's suicide, and now Sei's murder.
A raw, broken laugh escaped his lips. Neji covered his face with his hand as tears finally streamed from his eyes.
"Fuck this world," he swore, the vow etching itself into his very soul. "Everyone who has wronged me will pay tenfold... no, hundredfold. Why do I need to play nice when the playing field is already fucked?"
This wasn't the end of something; it was the beginning.