The silver bells jingled in Hyūga Hizashi's fingers, their sound deceptively light. But the weight they carried was far heavier than metal.
"Two bells," Hizashi said evenly. His pale eyes swept over the three Genin before him. "Three of you. That means one will fail. That person will not become a shinobi of Konoha."
Hyūga Akane's hands clenched nervously at her sides. Kusuo Hatake tilted his head faintly, one eye visible above the mask, unreadable. Uchiha Shigure, however, studied Hizashi with cold curiosity, eyes faintly pale as though the strange blood within him was humming in anticipation.
"Your only options: defeat me together, or take the bells from each other," Hizashi continued, slipping one bell to dangle at his waist while tossing the other lightly to Akane. "But remember, to steal from your teammate is also a path. In the end, the mission requires results, not excuses."
The bells chimed once more as he snapped them against his hip. Then his voice rang out:
"Begin!"
Hizashi's face sharpened, veins bulging around his eyes as the Byakugan snapped open in full clarity. He could already see through their chakra pathways, their hesitation, their tension.
"Let's go!" Kusuo Hatake didn't falter a second. He darted forward, blade singing as he drew Gray Fang in one fluid motion. The Hatake sword arts gleamed in the sun as steel whistled toward Hizashi's chest.
"Too direct." Hizashi's palm shifted half an inch. With a single precise strike of Gentle Fist, he angled Kusuo's slash away, his chakra strike cracking against Kusuo's tenketsu. The boy flew backward, skidding across the grass but rolling immediately to his feet, blade still in hand.
"Damn it! So that's the strength of a jōnin," he muttered, voice low but eyes alight with determination.
Hizashi straightened. His voice was calm, but sharp. "Next."
Akane hesitated, then snapped into stance. "This is too much for a test, sensei! You're going full force against us!"
"Training is fighting. If you cannot endure me, you cannot endure the battlefield. Soft Fist!" Hizashi blurred forward, his palm slicing through the air toward them both.
Shigure's fingers formed seals with supernatural speed, chakra surging instantly into the earth. "Doton: Doryūheki!"
The ground split in a jagged rumble, a massive wall of stone surging upward to block Hizashi's blow. His Gentle Fist slammed into the earth wall—and the barrier held for a blink before crumbling to dust under the impact of jōnin-level skill.
"Impressive," Hizashi admitted coolly. "For a Genin to conjure a D-rank technique without wasted chakra, and to protect allies… commendable. But against me, still useless."
Akane seized the moment, darting low. "Soft Fist!" Her palms lashed forward, striking toward Hizashi's chest. At the same instant, Kusuo reappeared from behind, his chakra crackling over his sword as he swung downward in a ruthless arc.
Pincer attack—front and back.
But Hizashi's Byakugan saw it all before the thought even formed. His hands lashed out, catching Akane's wrist in one grip and Kusuo's throat in the other. A twist, a snap—their bodies clashed midair as he hurled them aside effortlessly.
"Too slow. Too predictable."
Smoke flooded the training ground suddenly. Shigure burst through the haze, rushing headlong at the jōnin. "Kage Bunshin no Jutsu!"
Three Shigures appeared, two clones attacking from either side, while the original reached for the bell dangling at Hizashi's waist.
"Too shallow!" Hizashi's palm cracked forward, chakra shattering both clones before their strikes even landed. The third Shigure's hand brushed the bell rope—before Hizashi's Gentle Fist slammed into his chest, smoke bursting again.
A clone.
From the tree line, another voice rang low, resonant:
"Tiger—Boar—Monkey—Horse—Tiger! Katon: Gōkakyū no Jutsu!"
The chakra swelled monstrously, far more than any Academy student could ever wield. The massive fireball streaked toward the spinning Hyūga like a meteor falling from the sky.
Hizashi arched an eyebrow. Then his body spun with gravitic force.
"Hakkeshō Kaiten!"
His body became a whirling fortress, chakra spiraling in shining arcs. The fireball exploded against the rotation, its flames scattered harmlessly to the wind.
When the flames vanished, Hizashi stood calmly, his robes fluttering lightly. He exhaled once, then relaxed his stance.
"That is enough."
The sudden silence that followed was deafening. Akane panted, eyes wide with shock. Kusuo's blade trembled faintly in his grip. Shigure only straightened, breathing steady, gaze sharp with lingering defiance.
Hizashi looked at them, voice stern. "Hatake Kusuo. Uchiha Shigure. Your strength is not yet enough to defeat me. And Hyūga Akane…" His eyes softened a touch. "Your heart wavered. You are, currently, a burden."
Akane paled instantly, lowering her gaze.
"Then what happens next?" Kusuo asked, standing firm. "If one teammate is a burden, do we cut her loose? Take her bell?"
"That is an option," Hizashi said flatly. His tone was cold steel. "The Hokage's mission requires success, not kindness. Would you take her bell to pass?"
Kusuo's jaw tightened. His one visible eye glinted with steel. "…To steal from a comrade is no victory. If she is my teammate, I will protect her—woman or not."
"And you, Shigure?" Hizashi's pale eyes fixed on him hard.
Shigure tilted his head slightly. Then he smiled—a slow, dangerous curve of lips. His voice was calm.
"Forgive me, Hizashi-sensei. I would never take a bell from my teammates. I don't need to."
Hizashi's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Shigure lifted his hand and opened his fingers. Resting in his palm, glimmering faintly in the sunlight with a soft chime—
—the second bell.
Both Akane and Kusuo froze. Hizashi blinked once, his composure cracking for just a second. He had clearly felt the weight of the bell still tied at his waist.
Shigure's pale eyes gleamed with mirth. "While you were testing us… I already took it."
The bell jingled in his fingers, its sound sharper now, like a challenge.
And in that moment, for the first time, Hyūga Hizashi realized this boy with strange eyes and a quiet smile was something far more dangerous than any ordinary Genin.