If he had been defeated by just one-tenth of Neji's power, then wouldn't that mean that at full strength Neji could defeat her ten times over?
The thought shook Yeyue Ling to the core.
No, impossible. Absolutely impossible.
Her heart screamed denial, but her instincts whispered the truth.
Neji, however, did not waste words on argument or explanation. He simply stood there, calm and collected, as though her doubt and disbelief did not matter in the slightest.
He drew in a long breath, steadying the flow of his chakra. A faint hum resonated around his body, and then, in an instant, a surge of raw energy burst forth.
Lightning Release Chakra Mode.
Blue-white arcs of electricity exploded outward, wrapping tightly around his frame. His entire figure became cloaked in crackling light, his aura pressing outward like a storm about to break. The sheer power startled Yeyue Ling so much that she involuntarily took a step back, her eyes widening in alarm.
"Lightning Release Chakra Mode…?" she breathed, unable to conceal her shock. "You actually learned Lightning Release Chakra Mode?"
But Neji wasn't finished.
His gaze narrowed slightly, and his raised palm suddenly flared with an even darker, more terrifying energy. Black lightning hissed and writhed, slithering like a venomous snake eager to strike. Its crackles weren't merely sharp—they carried a suffocating weight, a violent intensity unlike normal lightning.
"Not just Lightning Release Chakra Mode," Neji said with quiet certainty. "But also Black Lightning, the power developed by the Third Raikage himself."
The words struck Yeyue Ling harder than any physical blow.
Her pupils shrank. Black Lightning—this was not a technique passed down lightly. Even within the Yotsuki Clan, few had dared to attempt its cultivation. It was said to be uncontrollable, violent enough to consume its own user.
And yet this boy—this child—stood before her, already wielding it as though it were second nature.
If he had unleashed either of these techniques at the very beginning, she realized, she wouldn't have stood a chance. She would have had no room to resist. Her pride, her strength, her reputation—all would have crumbled in an instant.
Her chest tightened with a mixture of awe and despair.
"No wonder…" she murmured bitterly. "No wonder you look down on the Yotsuki Clan."
Because if someone truly possessed such ability, wasn't it only natural that they would seem arrogant? If they looked down on others, wasn't it simply the truth revealed?
Yet Neji shook his head slightly. His tone was calm, almost gentle.
"You misunderstood," he said. "I didn't mean to belittle the Yotsuki Clan."
Yeyue Ling hesitated. "But earlier… you…"
Neji paused for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. Then he answered with unflinching honesty.
"I understand the intentions of the Yotsuki Clan leader," he said. "But I refused simply because accepting would be unfair—to me, and to all of you as well."
His words carried a weight of conviction that struck deeper than any insult could.
Unfair.
Yes. That was the truth.
In another era, in the twenty-first century perhaps, any person with an independent spirit would have refused under such circumstances. To compromise would have been nothing but surrender—to interests, to power, to convenience.
And Neji was not someone who compromised.
"Just because of that?" Yeyue Ling asked in disbelief, her voice trembling. She could not understand.
Neji met her bewildered gaze, and a quiet sigh rose in his heart. Between them stretched a barrier—thick, heavy, and unyielding.
It was not personal. It was something greater, something ingrained into their very lives.
The essence of a shinobi was to be a tool. Missions first, feelings second. This belief had been carved into their bones for generations, an unspoken truth that none dared to challenge.
The Will of Fire that the First Hokage once preached had been the first time anyone suggested that shinobi could be more than tools—that they were people, with bonds, dreams, and dignity.
But that ideal, too, had decayed with time.
Neji reached into his storage scroll, retrieving two small scrolls. With steady hands, he extended them toward her.
"Yeyue Ling," he said. "These are my insights into cultivating Lightning Release Chakra Mode and Black Lightning. Perhaps they will be of use to you."
Her breath caught. She looked at him in disbelief. "Such valuable things… for me?"
The tips of her ears flushed, her expression shy, almost embarrassed.
Neji stiffened slightly at her reaction.
In truth, there was another reason—a simple, realistic, and admittedly harsh reason—that he hadn't spoken aloud.
The women of the Yotsuki Clan simply did not fit his aesthetic standards. Since that was the case, why force himself into anything more?
It was better this way.
Before long, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed. A group of people arrived.
Samui, with her usual calm but now tinged with concern, approached quickly.
"Neji, how was it?" she asked.
"Big Sis, did you win?" another voice chimed, Yeyue Ling's companions crowding around eagerly.
Neji scratched the back of his head with a sheepish smile. "I didn't win," he admitted, "but I didn't lose either. It was a draw."
"A draw?"
Yeyue Ling's expression shifted slightly, but then she nodded, following his lead. "Yes, it was a draw."
Gasps rippled through her companions.
"No way, Big Sis actually didn't win?"
"But… she didn't lose either, right?"
"Still, that kid is only six years old…"
Their whispers grew louder, their words tinged with disbelief and even a hint of cruelty.
Yeyue Ling was ten years older than Neji. If she had won, it would have been expected. But if she had lost… it would have made her look weak, even pathetic, a laughingstock within the clan.
By declaring it a draw, Neji had protected himself—yet also spared her humiliation.
Why not leave it at that?
"Yeyue Ling," Neji said softly. "Let's stop here. Goodbye."
Samui let out a quiet sigh of relief. She took Neji's hand and quickly led him away from the crowd.
Behind them, Yeyue Ling stood on her toes, watching Neji's retreating back until it blurred in the distance. Her fingers brushed over the two scrolls he had given her, and a small murmur escaped her lips.
"When this kid isn't being annoying… he's actually quite cute."
---
On the other side, as they walked together, Samui gave him a curious glance.
"You drew with Yeyue Ling," she said with faint surprise. "That's no small feat."
Neji smirked playfully and scratched the palm of her hand. "It's all thanks to you, Big Sister. You taught me well."
Samui's lips curved slightly, but she quickly straightened her face.
"Neji," she said sternly, "I didn't teach you to flatter me. Did you learn that from Yugito?"
Caught off guard, Neji looked embarrassed and tried to play along. "Uh… yes, she taught me."
Samui chuckled softly but let the matter drop.
Not long after, the two arrived at a quiet reservoir tucked away in the highlands. A waterfall cascaded down a rocky cliff, feeding into the clear waters below. Around them stretched an artificially planted forest, rare and refreshing in the plateau's dry environment.
They unpacked camping gear from their storage scrolls—tarps, blankets, small tools—and soon set up a modest camp by the water's edge.
When all was settled, Neji shook a fishing rod in his hand with enthusiasm.
"Let's go," he said. "Let's go fishing."
Samui accepted the rod but frowned slightly. "Neji, I'll tell you beforehand—I can't fish."
She could spear fish, catch them with her hands, fry them perfectly crisp. But fishing with a rod? That was another matter.
Neji waved off her concern. "It's simple. Just put on the bait, toss it into the water, and wait for the fish to bite."
He pulled her toward the reservoir's edge, where he set down a long bench from his storage scroll. Though it was long, it was short in height—deliberately so. Just right for two people to sit close together, shoulder to shoulder.
Samui didn't overthink it. She sat beside him, their arms brushing lightly.
Following his instructions, she baited the hook, cast the line into the water, and waited.
Minutes passed.
Neji had already caught three fish, each one flipping into the bucket beside him with satisfying splashes.
Samui, meanwhile, had managed to lose her hook three times.
Frustration bubbled up. She scowled, tossed the rod aside, and huffed, "Is my bait rotten or something? I give up."
Neji grinned mischievously and nudged her knee with his own. "So you're admitting defeat?"
"Admitting defeat? We weren't even competing!" Samui retorted, bewildered.
"As a true fishing enthusiast," Neji declared solemnly, "the competition begins the moment you pick up the rod."
Samui stared at his serious expression, then burst into a soft laugh. "Then what do you want, if I've lost?"
"Punishment," Neji said instantly, eyes glinting with mischief.
"Punishment?" she echoed with curiosity. "And what would that be?"
Neji's grin widened. "Change to a soft seat."
Before she could respond, he promptly plopped himself down—directly onto her lap.
Samui froze in shock, her hands instinctively pushing at his waist. But then, inexplicably, her touch softened, her arms shifting into a loose embrace instead.
His warmth seeped into her, and her cheeks flushed crimson.
A few minutes passed in silence before she suddenly chuckled. "You gave up so soon? After changing to a soft seat, you still haven't caught a single fish."
"It's not my fault," Neji muttered, feigning indignation. "You're distracting me."
"The rod's in your hands. How am I distracting you?" Samui teased with a sly smile. "You're just doing poorly and blaming me instead."
Her playful tone stoked Neji's pride.
Doing poorly?
No way.
With renewed determination, he murmured the Ice Heart Incantation, steadying his mind into razor focus.
In an instant, the fish seemed bewitched. One after another, they bit the hook, thrashing wildly before being reeled in. Within two minutes, the once-empty bucket was nearly overflowing.
Samui's eyes widened at the sight. "So many?!"
Neji puffed out his chest proudly. "Amazing, right?"
Samui shook her head with a small smile, finding his eagerness both amusing and strangely endearing.
Such was Neji—fierce in battle, mischievous in peace, and always burning with that unyielding desire to win.
patreon (Obito_uchiha)