"Who's there?! Come out!"
The instant that voice reached his ears, Hyūga Hizashi opened his Byakugan without hesitation.
But to his shock, in his perception, aside from Neji, there was no one else around at all.
Only the sound of the wind, the rustle of leaves, his own breath and heartbeat.
Even the chirping of insects seemed to have vanished into silence.
Hizashi looked around with his Byakugan, but he could not find the source of the voice anywhere.
"Where are you looking?"
That ethereal voice came again.
This time, Hizashi heard it with crystal clarity. He turned his head sharply toward the direction behind him.
But—no one. Still nothing.
The trees stood silently before him, their thick branches swaying with the wind, shadows shifting like countless hidden silhouettes.
Then, the sound of light footsteps slowly reached him.
Even by ear alone, he could tell—the owner of those steps was utterly at ease. Though walking within the Hyūga compound, full of Byakugan users, the man carried himself as if leisurely strolling through a garden.
Moments later, a figure emerged from the shadows. Black as ink, it spread in Hizashi's Byakugan like dye blooming in water.
The shadowed figure halted before him. Hizashi's sharp gaze tried to pierce through the hood, to make out every detail beneath it.
But beneath the hood, there was only dense, writhing shadow. Like a living thing, it swallowed up his searching gaze, grinding it down and devouring it—returning not even a crumb in mercy.
A monster, like a bottomless abyss.
The thought burst in Hizashi's mind, and cold sweat trickled down his temple.
This was someone who had slipped silently into Konoha, bypassed the village's sensory barriers as if they were nothing, even infiltrated the Hyūga clan grounds, and could stand before him, unperceived by the Byakugan.
Even now, though the man was right in front of him—Hizashi could not sense his presence.
If the intruder had not spoken, Hizashi realized with dread, this man could have stood at his back, sliced his throat in one motion, and vanished without a trace before anyone knew what had happened.
What kind of jutsu was this?
A secret technique? A Kekkei Genkai?
"Who are you?"
Hizashi's mind raced, analyzing furiously as he spoke to buy time, his hand inching into his robe to trigger a signal flare.
"In the instant you send that signal," the man said coldly, flatly, "I will slit your throat. And before reinforcements arrive, I will kill that child as well."
That calm voice carried an absolute, undeniable killing intent.
Hizashi froze instinctively. His hand stopped at once.
The stranger's bizarre arrival, his unruffled tone—all of it left Hizashi unable to doubt his words.
With such a power to conceal himself, if this man also possessed the speed to kill in an instant, then yes—he could easily end them both and vanish. No one would ever know.
Did this man truly possess that strength?
"…"
Hizashi slowly withdrew his hand from his robe. He stared hard at the shadow before him, his voice low and steady:
"What is it you want?"
Yes—he dared not gamble.
This man was too strange, too terrifying.
His own life didn't matter. But Neji was behind him.
And since the stranger hadn't struck immediately, it meant he might not be here to kill.
But Hizashi could never have guessed—that this ominous figure he feared and dreaded so much was in truth someone he had met not long ago.
The shadow—Hyūga Kumokawa—did not answer Hizashi's question. He only stared at him with calm, steady eyes.
Silence stretched once more between them.
Only the wind brushing the leaves, Hizashi's growing heavy breath, and the rapid beat of his heart could be heard.
Until, at the very moment Hizashi's fingers twitched with the urge to attack.
"You said, all the suffering that child endures will become his most precious treasure, making him stronger?"
The shadow finally spoke. His voice was hoarse, menacing. But Hizashi felt an odd relief just to hear him speak.
Though this man looked him in the eye, it felt instead like being gazed down upon from a great height.
That abyssal gaze swept over him slowly, as though invisible hands seized every inch of his flesh and squeezed, ready to wring him into a puddle of blood.
"What are you trying to say?"
The last thoughts of defiance bled away. Hizashi's brows furrowed, his voice low.
"You're deceiving yourself," Kumokawa said evenly. "Suffering is only suffering. It's not worth praising. It is no treasure."
"Suffering drains a man of his flesh and blood, leaving him sensitive, twisted, extreme."
His tone turned mocking, his words cutting:
"Just as your own parents once did to you."
"They shattered your values, then crammed their own ideas of life, of the world, into your head."
"They demanded obedience. They belittled you endlessly. They told you this was right. They told you this was your fate."
"You struggled, resisted—but their faces changed. They shouted at you, they broke your limbs, they locked you in a cage."
"They beat you, cursed you, lectured you, begged you—everything but let you go. They told you this was wrong, they told you I am right, they told you, 'It's for your own good.' And so—you gave in. You joined them."
Staring at Hizashi, whose face had grown darker with each word, Kumokawa pressed on, sharper, crueler:
"Years later, you look at your child—just like you once were. And you think, 'He will be like me. He will kneel, like a dog, and accept his fate.' So you…"
"Enough!"
A harsh, almost involuntary cry tore from Hizashi's throat, cutting Kumokawa off.
Each word had been like a blade carving at his heart, making his whole body tremble.
Every phrase dragged up memories—two blurred faces, voices from long ago.
"What do you know!" Hizashi shouted through clenched teeth, fear and rage burning together. "I—I only did it because…"
The words caught in his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed as he choked them back.
Because it was for Neji's sake?
But isn't that exactly what the man just said?
"Kh—hurk!"
A wave of nausea slammed him. Hizashi's face went pale. He clutched at his mouth, gagging violently.
So disgusting.
Not disgust at another—disgust at himself.
He couldn't deny it. He could not even understand Neji's hatred.
But wasn't it he who once turned killing intent upon Hinata?
Wasn't it he who was at fault? Wasn't it he…
The rebellious youth he once was—he could no longer comprehend that boy at all.
Born fifteen minutes after his elder twin, Hyūga Hiashi—just that brief quarter-hour condemned him to the Branch House, to the Caged Bird Seal, to losing his freedom, his self.
He had fought, he had questioned. But now… now he could only think: was this not simply "fate"?
When had it happened?
At what point had he become this?
"There are birds you cannot cage. Every feather shines with the light of freedom. They were born for the sky."
Kumokawa stepped closer, slow and deliberate, his voice a whisper of temptation:
"Hyūga Hizashi, tell me your choice."
"Do you choose to be a butcher?
To snap the wings of a bird that longs to fly?"
"Or do you choose—to be a father?"