"You…"
The voice at his ear carried a subtle, almost hypnotic tone that jolted Hyūga Hizashi back to awareness. He instinctively stepped backward, nearly stumbling as his foot brushed the edge of the porch.
"What… what are you?" Hizashi's scalp tingled as he looked at the black-robed figure beside him. His voice trembled despite his best effort to steady it. "Why are you telling me all this?"
"I'm merely pruning the garden," Hyūga Arata said softly, "wondering what kind of flowers will bloom afterward."
Though the man's face was lost in shadow, Hizashi could see it in his mind, the faint outline of a pair of eyes, filled with calm, bottomless malice.
It was as though a quiet flame burned there. Not bright, not roaring, just silently swaying, indifferent to what it might ignite or consume.
Hizashi understood then: to this man, he, the branch-family head, was nothing but dry wood to feed the fire.
He fell silent.
"The main family is the root of the Hyūga," his father's voice echoed from memory.
"So long as the root survives, it matters little whether the leaves flourish or wither."
That had been drilled into him since childhood.
Yet the image of Hinata came unbidden, fragile, clumsy, stumbling through her training, and a tide of dark thoughts began to rise in his chest, impossible to suppress.
"With Neji's talent, he could have become the pride of the Hyūga. But because he was born into the branch family, the cursed seal was branded on him, his freedom stripped away forever, condemned to live and die in the shadow of the main house…"
"While that timid, unworthy girl of the main family can sit back and enjoy it all, protected by Neji, served by him, perhaps even saved by his sacrifice…"
A bitter laugh almost escaped him.
If a father cannot even protect his child's freedom, isn't that the height of weakness?
He himself had once chosen a humble death in exchange for a fleeting moment of freedom.
But for Neji, he wanted more. He wanted his son to live as a free man, to breathe and bleed and be human.
Not as anyone's servant. Not as the victim of so-called fate.
"Believe me," Arata murmured, "selling your soul to the devil isn't shameful."
His tone was almost kind.
"What's shameful is not getting a good price for it."
"…What can you do?" Hizashi asked after a long silence. "And what will it cost me?"
"I can grant you the power to break free of your cage," Arata replied evenly. "But you must pay with everything you have, your name, your future, your life, and your soul."
"You…" Hizashi froze. "That's not a fair trade."
"The devil," Arata said lightly, "is never fair. So, what is your answer?"
Hizashi's breathing quickened. Even knowing the malice in this man's words, he found himself unable to refute them.
The figure before him seemed to strip him bare, dissecting his greed, his guilt, his rage, laying them out neatly like cuts of flesh on a butcher's table.
Finally, Hizashi clenched his teeth and shook his head.
"I don't believe you can free me or Neji. I don't believe anyone can."
As long as the Caged Bird Seal existed, Neji could never be truly free.
Even the main family patriarch could only activate the curse, not remove it.
"That's fine," Arata said with a faint nod, unfazed. From the depths of his hood, he raised one shadow-cloaked arm. "Then let me show you."
Inside his mind, he whispered, 'Manifest Object: Caged Bird Seal Release, Ten Seconds.'
[Cost: 300 Truth Points. Proceed?]
'As I thought,' Arata mused. 'A temporary release costs far less than a permanent removal.'
His eyes flashed. 'Confirm.'
Hizashi frowned in confusion as the black-robed man pressed two fingers together and slowly reached toward his forehead. Every instinct screamed danger; his blood seemed to freeze.
He tried to step back, but the fingers touched his brow first.
A jolt surged through him.
It felt as if a crack opened across his forehead and a cool spring burst inward, splitting into countless rivulets that swept through his mind, washing away every blockage, every shackle.
He could almost hear it, the sound of invisible chains shattering.
For the first time in his life, the world was utterly clear.
Hizashi's pupils trembled. His hands rose by instinct as veins bulged around his temples.
"Byakugan, open!!"
'No blind spot.'
'It was gone.'
'Completely gone!'
'Impossible!'
He couldn't believe what he was seeing, yet a wild grin spread across his face, twisting with ecstasy.
"Hahahaha!"
'So this is freedom…'
Light. Weightless. Euphoric.
Every fiber of his being was alive, unbound. The world itself seemed luminous and infinite.
All composure vanished. The laughter that burst from him was raw, manic, tears streaked his face.
No one else could understand this feeling: to have something stolen from you, to live every moment under another's control, and then, suddenly, to take it back.
But the miracle didn't last.
The mark on his forehead began to darken again.
The curse returned.
And with it, the faint dead spot behind his first thoracic vertebra reappeared. His vision dimmed. The world shrank once more.
"What… what's happening?"
The smile froze on his lips. Pain and confusion clouded his eyes.
Then he remembered. This was only a taste.
"You!" Hizashi seized the man's arm, desperate. "What do you want me to do?!"
Arata showed no surprise. He didn't answer directly.
Instead, he asked calmly, "You and Hyūga Hiashi, you're identical twins, aren't you?"
"…Yes."
Seeing Hizashi's face darken, Arata continued, voice as even as ever:
"I need you to become Hyūga Hiashi. From this moment on, Hizashi will cease to exist."
"What?!" Hizashi's eyes went wide. "Impossible!"
This man wanted him to fake his death, and replace his brother?
How could that even be done?!
"You said you could do it," Arata said quietly, prying Hizashi's grip from his arm with effortless strength. "You only need to follow orders."
The moonlight cast their shadows long across the ground, trembling faintly beneath the swaying trees.
"…"
Hizashi's mind replayed that feeling, the clarity, the release, the boundless freedom. Desire crushed him like a weight.
He bit down hard, jaw trembling.
"…Fine! I'll do it!"
Seeing his wild, desperate expression, Arata smiled faintly to himself.
A bird that has once known freedom, how could it ever be content to return to its tiny cage?
But to him, Hizashi was nothing more than a supporting piece on the board.
The real pawn of value lay elsewhere.
Arata's gaze shifted, turning toward the distant, silent Hyūga residence.