The atmosphere within the Hyūga Clan was unbearably oppressive.
It wasn't just because of the dreadful news that war was approaching—today was also the funeral of Hyūga Hizashi.
In the courtyard, the suffocating scent of sandalwood incense mixed with the stale smell of old tatami mats. The heavy fragrance clung to Hizashi's nostrils and throat like a layer of sticky ointment.
"…"
Hyūga Hizashi looked at the portrait surrounded by layers upon layers of white chrysanthemums.
Staring at the picture of himself, and the crowd kneeling inside the house, he felt the world was utterly absurd.
Hyūga Hinata, who had only just celebrated her third birthday not long ago, clung timidly to the corner of her "father's" robes, hiding behind him. Her tiny hand held on carefully, while her innocent eyes watched everything happening in front of her, utterly confused.
At her age, Hinata still didn't understand what death meant.
Until she saw Hyūga Neji kneeling in front of the portrait, his body stiff like an abandoned clay figurine.
"Neji, stay strong…"
A member of the branch family gently patted Neji's shoulder with a sigh.
Neji, who had been keeping a calm and restrained expression, suddenly trembled slightly.
Under Hinata's gaze, his head lowered, and a crystalline tear slid down his cheek.
That pain and sorrow, overflowing from deep within the heart, made Hinata's chest tremble faintly as well.
"All things are impermanent, arising and perishing… when arising and perishing end, tranquility is bliss… may you be freed from suffering and attain peace, to be reborn in the Pure Land…"
The monk's monotonous and drawn-out chanting sounded like heavy blocks of lead, pounding against her eardrums. It was as if countless fine needles pierced her nerves, making her tense unconsciously.
She suddenly remembered the strange looks from the branch family brothers and sisters yesterday, and gradually realized—perhaps Lord Hizashi's death had something to do with her.
So, Hinata quietly let go of her "father's" robes and, as if fleeing, took small steps out of the mourning hall.
At the front of the crowd, Hyūga Kumokawa seemed to sense something and turned his head slightly to glance behind him.
Whoosh.
It was the first snowfall in Konoha that year.
Goose-feather-like flakes fell silently and densely, covering the carefully pruned pine branches in the courtyard, burying the bluestone path, and wrapping the whole world in a suffocating, freezing silence of pure white.
Only the lanterns under the eaves swayed helplessly in the wind and snow, casting a dim, trembling halo of light.
Before Hinata's eyes, the figures in black mourning robes seemed to waver at the edges of her vision like silent, ominous storm clouds.
The strange glances they occasionally threw her felt like barbed hooks scratching at her exposed skin.
Uncontrollable guilt and fear welled up from her chest, and she instinctively chose to escape.
From walking, she broke into a run—wanting only to flee that suffocating house.
Creak, creak!
Her small feet sank unevenly into the snow. Her thin clothes flapped loudly in the wind, the wide sash around her waist pulled tight, and snowflakes lashed against her face.
They melted into icy water that trickled into her collar, chilling her to the bone.
By the time she ran out of the Hyūga compound, her foot suddenly slipped, and she fell heavily into the thick snow.
The cold instantly wrapped around her whole body.
"Uu…"
The tears that had been welling in her eyes finally overflowed, hot liquid running down her icy cheeks and dripping into the snow, leaving tiny, fleeting dark stains.
She struggled to climb up and keep running, but as she turned the next corner, she bumped directly into someone.
"I—I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Hinata hurriedly wiped her tears as she stood up. Without thinking, she raised her head to apologize.
She had run into one of three boys. But when the boy saw Hinata's pale white eyes, the words "It's okay" that had been on his lips were swallowed back.
"Eh?" His two companions blurted out as well, "Her eyes… her eyes are white!"
By now, everyone knew that war was approaching, and as one of the causes of this war, the Hyūga Clan's standing in Konoha had become precarious.
To put it mockingly: once, they used their Byakugan to look down on others—now it was others giving them "white eyes" in return.
Whenever villagers saw those distinctive white eyes, they couldn't help but react with disgust and hostility.
And of course, the children picked up these attitudes.
A child's cruelty is the purest kind—it carries no agenda, no benefit, only malice.
"Look, her eyes are white!"
"They really are! A white-eyed freak!"
"Isn't she just like that monster? A demon?!"
The three boys instantly began to shout loudly, and Hinata—who had just stood up—was shoved back down.
One of the boys even reached out a hand toward her eyes. Hinata's little face went pale, her expression blank, and she could only stare in fright.
"Sto—"
"Hey."
Two voices cut through almost simultaneously just as his hand was about to touch Hinata.
The boy instinctively turned his head—and in the next instant, a palm filled his vision.
Smack!
The slap spun him half a turn before he crashed to the ground, a bloody tooth flying out with him.
"Ah!"
The sharp cries of the other two brats had barely left their mouths before Hyūga Kumokawa swung his hands back in two more slaps.
Two more teeth flew equally, and the boys collapsed into unconsciousness, utterly at peace.
"Lady Hinata."
Hyūga Kumokawa looked at the timid girl opening her eyes, his tone calm as he pointed toward the Hyūga compound.
"The night is dangerous. If you're done playing, you should go home."
"Y-yes…"
Knowing she had caused trouble for others, Hinata lowered her head and answered softly.
Watching her small back gradually disappear, Kumokawa withdrew his gaze and looked behind him.
Creak… creak…
From behind a utility pole, a short figure bundled so thickly he waddled like a penguin shuffled out.
As he passed the three brats lying unconscious on the ground, he stuck out his foot from his pocket and kicked each one once.
"Big brother, you're amazing."
The "little shorty" walked up to Kumokawa, tilted his head back, pulled down his scarf, and revealed a familiar face. His childish voice asked:
"You're a ninja, right? Are you a genin?"
Looking at the boy's bright blue eyes and the whisker-like marks on his face, Kumokawa's gaze deepened.
Uzumaki Naruto—the orphan of the Fourth Hokage, Namikaze Minato, now the Jinchūriki of the Nine-Tails.
He hadn't expected their first meeting to be under these circumstances.
Kumokawa narrowed his eyes and asked, "You're not afraid of me?"
Naruto also narrowed his eyes in imitation, shaking his head with a determined look. "I'm not afraid, because big brother, you don't hate me."
At those words, Kumokawa froze for a moment. He instinctively thought of Naruto's ability to sense malice.
But no—Naruto didn't have that ability yet, not at this age.
Which meant…
"He sensed it with intuition and experience?" Kumokawa felt a flicker of interest in his heart.
This Naruto was far more likable than the awkward one he would grow into later.
But… Uzumaki Naruto's identity was far too sensitive. It was still too early for them to meet.
Even if they did, it shouldn't be like this.
So, Kumokawa gave Naruto one last glance, raised his hand, and used the Body Flicker Technique to vanish.
Naruto stood rooted to the spot, eyes shining brightly.
That Body Flicker was so cool!
Creak.
Not long after Kumokawa left Naruto, another figure appeared in front of him.
"Jonin Hyūga Kumokawa." The man wore an Anbu mask and handed him two scrolls, speaking in a cold voice. "These are from Lord Third."
Root shinobi?
Kumokawa immediately recognized the familiar, chilling aura. He accepted the two scrolls.
Opening the first one, he saw a pass to the Forbidden Jutsu Library—clearly something from Sarutobi Hiruzen.
As for the second…
"We're to investigate the state of Hanzō of the Salamander in Amegakure, in the Land of Rain, while en route to the Land of Hot Water?" Kumokawa's eyes flickered as he thought.
Was this order from Sarutobi Hiruzen, or from Shimura Danzō?
Or perhaps… from both?
Still…
"Hanzō, huh?" Kumokawa smiled inwardly.
"Seems like he'd make quite a fine puppet."