A few weeks have passed,
The morning sun shone down on the backyard of the Murakumo Mansion. Neji Hyuga stood facing Murakumo, who was attempting to teach him the intricacies of Genjutsu.
"Try to put me in a Genjutsu," Murakumo instructed, his posture relaxed.
"I already have," Neji replied calmly.
"Nothing has changed," Murakumo stated, glancing around. His vision was unaltered; the world was exactly as it should be.
"Look again," Neji said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
This time, Murakumo caught it, a flicker of movement at the very corner of his eye. An ANBU agent, lurking in the shadows. But when he turned his head to look directly, the figure vanished.
Murakumo nodded, understanding immediately. 'Impressive. To use something so subtle... With his Byakugan activated, he could technically place anyone in his field of view under this illusion.'
A smile touched Murakumo's lips. 'No wonder they call him a prodigy. It helps that he isn't shackled by the Hyuga's traditions.'
He broke the Genjutsu effortlessly, circulating his chakra without so much as a hand seal. The illusion was too fragile to offer any real resistance.
"An impressive launch," Murakumo praised. "No hand signs, no fluctuating chakra. You must be using a visual Genjutsu, similar to the Uchiha's Sharingan. A good model to follow, but why such a simple approach? A mere stalker in the periphery?"
"Because no one expects a Hyuga to use Genjutsu," Neji explained. "They watch my eyes for the Gentle Fist, not an illusion. They have no reason to avoid my gaze like they would an Uchiha's."
Murakumo nodded in agreement. "And what happens when you become known for your Genjutsu?"
"Then I will have built a foundation of expectation upon which I can layer more complex deceptions," Neji answered.
"Good thinking. However, with this type of illusion, you must be cautious. It's easy to break; even a minor shock or a simple circulation of chakra can dispel it. If your opponent is disciplined enough to ignore the phantom, it becomes useless."
"I understand, Shishou," Neji said aloud. But in the privacy of his mind, a more ambitious thought took root: 'I will become like Aizen. They won't even see the Genjutsu coming until it's far too late.'
Elsewhere...
In a secluded training ground, Yakumo pushed her body to its absolute limit. Each movement was a struggle, her breaths coming in ragged gasps that burned her lungs. Despite her fierce determination, the frail body she was born with refused to obey, and her legs buckled beneath her.
She braced for the impact with the hard earth, but it never came. Instead, a pair of steadying hands caught her. Looking up through a dizzy haze, she saw her tutor, Yuhi Kurenai. The chunin, with her elegant black hair and piercing red eyes.
"Are you okay, Yakumo?" Kurenai's voice was laced with worry.
"I'm fine," Yakumo choked out, forcing herself upright even as her muscles screamed in protest. "I can still train."
Kurenai's expression was pained. She saw the fire in Yakumo's eyes, a stark contrast to the girl's physical limitations.
"Kurenai-sensei," Yakumo's voice was small, vulnerable. "Do you think... I can become a great shinobi by focusing only on Genjutsu?"
The question hung in the air. Kurenai felt the weight of the truth, a heavy stone in her stomach. She couldn't offer false hope. "Yakumo," she began, her tone gentle but devastatingly honest, "the world has many roles to fill. Being a shinobi isn't the only one."
Yakumo recoiled as if struck. "What?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "You... you don't believe in me?"
The silence was more painful than any shout. Kurenai looked away, her guilt plain. "No," she finally whispered. "I don't."
The single word shattered something inside Yakumo. Stumbling back, she put distance between them. "That's not true! Rock Lee is becoming a splendid shinobi with only Taijutsu! Why can't I do the same with Genjutsu?"
"Because your body can't support it," Kurenai said, her voice thick with emotion. "On a mission, you wouldn't just fail. You would endanger everyone with you. You would be a burden."
The tears came then, hot and uncontrollable. The dream she had clung to so desperately was being torn away. "I hate you!" she sobbed, turning to flee. Her run was more of a stumbli ng jog, her weak body unable to sustain even her grief-fueled escape.
Within moments, her sprint faltered into a weary walk. She wiped furiously at her tear-streaked face, her eyes swollen and red, utterly alone with her broken dream.
As she walked, Yakumo watched shinobi pass her by, a sharp pang of jealousy twisting in her chest. The feeling was short-lived, however, as her exhaustion quickly returned, forcing her to find a bench to rest on.
She sat there, listlessly gazing at the sky, utterly lost about what to do next.
A few minutes later, Neji happened to walk past. He stopped when he noticed Yakumo sitting alone, his sharp eyes immediately detecting the tell-tale redness in her eyes that suggested she had been crying for some time.
Yakumo flinched in surprise as Neji sat down beside her, and she hurriedly wiped at any remaining tears.
"Did something happen?" Neji asked.
Yakumo opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. After a moment of struggling, all she could manage was a quiet, vulnerable request.
"Can... you stay with me for a while?" she asked, looking at him.
"Alright," Neji agreed. He then pulled out a book he had just purchased and began to read.
Noticing this, Yakumo shifted closer to him and started reading along. She was surprised to see it was a medical text.
Curiosity got the better of her. "Why are you studying medical ninjutsu?"
"To get even stronger," Neji replied.
"Is that all you ever say?" Yakumo asked, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Every time I ask about something you're learning, you just say 'to get stronger.'"
A faint smirk touched Neji's lips at her comment.
Her gaze drifted from the book back to his face, and she ventured a more personal question, her voice tinged with a desperation she could no longer hide. Finally gathering the courage, she looked straight into his pulsing Byakugan eyes and asked:
"Do you think I can become a shinobi?"
"Yes, you can," Neji stated straightforwardly.
Yakumo was taken aback by his immediate, certain answer. "I... I can?" she asked, confusion washing over her.
"Yes. But it will take much longer. Longer than it took for Rock Lee," Neji clarified.
"What do you mean?" Yakumo asked, needing to understand why her path would be even more difficult.
"Your body is slowly failing you. It's like a clock, ticking away as we speak," he said, his voice clinical yet not unkind.
Yakumo's heart dropped. She hadn't expected her condition to be so dire. "You've seen it then... my body is dying? But why would you say I can still become a shinobi if that's true?"
"Because you still can," Neji repeated, his conviction unwavering.
"You're not just giving me false hope, are you?" she whispered, her eyes pleading. "Then please, tell me how."
"I will. However, the condition is that I must be present to monitor you directly with my Byakugan, and you must keep this a secret," Neji stated, his tone leaving no room for debate. "You will also have to cease training with your current tutor. Be warned, it could take ten years before you become a full-fledged shinobi. Are you willing to accept these terms?"
"Yes," Yakumo answered without hesitation. She was determined to become a shinobi, no matter the path. As for Kurenai, she felt little attachment; the woman had never truly believed in her anyway.
"First, your diet must change completely," Neji instructed. "You'll need to eat plenty of lean meats, vegetables, fruits, and whole grains for energy. Milk and vitamins are essential, too. Your body needs the right fuel to grow stronger naturally. And that means no junk food."
"I understand," Yakumo nodded. "What else?"
"Daily physical exercises to build your foundational strength," he explained. "And I will use my healing techniques on you every day to correct the damage and support your growth."
A wave of gratitude washed over Yakumo, so profound it felt unfamiliar. Yet, a sliver of doubt made her ask, "Why are you going this far to help me?"
A gentle smile softened Neji's features. "Your father has done a great deal for me. Helping his daughter is the least I can do."
Yakumo's heart beat a little faster, stirred not just by his words, but by the sincere kindness on his face..
But this was not an act of kindness. Neji's reason for helping her was purely strategic; he needed strong allies for the uncertain future, and she fit the criteria perfectly.
"Get a good night's sleep. We'll begin tomorrow," Neji instructed.
"Thank you, Neji. Truly." A genuine smile lit up Yakumo's face for the first time. With a wave, she called, "Bye, Neji!" and turned toward home, her steps light with a newfound hope.
As he watched her go, Neji thought, 'That makes two allies now,' before heading back to his own home.
Later that night, at dinner...
In the dining room of the Murakumo Mansion, a small table was set for three. Lord Murakumo, his wife Kurama Uroko, and their daughter Yakumo were seated for their meal.
Yakumo was eating with a rare intensity, diligently working her way through the very foods Neji had prescribed.
"Slow down, Yakumo. The food isn't going anywhere," Uroko chided gently.
Yakumo swallowed a large bite. "Father," she began, her voice firm. "I don't want Kurenai-sensei to be my tutor anymore."
The declaration made Uroko start, while Murakumo choked on his food, coughing until Uroko handed him a glass of water.
"You're... you're not giving up on becoming a shinobi?" Uroko asked, unable to believe her daughter would abandon her dream.
"No, I still want to become one," Yakumo insisted. "But what's the point of a teacher who doesn't believe in me?"
"Should I find you another one?" Murakumo asked.
"No. I'll just train by myself," Yakumo said, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue.
Murakumo sensed the dishonesty in his daughter's reaction, but he held his tongue, assuming she was trying to spare his feelings or her own.