"Ten children," he murmured, his gaze fixed on a specific headline.
Inside the dimly lit room of the noble estate, the air remained heavy with unspoken tension.
The man standing by the door, the one with the dark, crossed symbol etched into the center of his forehead, lowered the newspaper slightly after reading that final, chilling phrase: 'Ten children. '
The man in the white kimono, sitting with perfect stillness in the center of the room, did not say a word.
Instead, he slowly lifted a hand, making a sharp, silent gesture to stop. It was a movement of absolute authority that required no explanation.
Following the silent command, the man by the door immediately ceased speaking. He stood as still as a statue, the newspaper clenching slightly in his grip as he waited.
In the corner, the restless figure who had been swaying and shifting finally grew still. The constant motion that had filled the shadows stopped abruptly, replaced by a harsh, dry cough that echoed against the sliding paper doors.
The man adjusted his position, his back straight for the first time since the maid had entered.
The man in the white kimono finally tilted his head, his gaze cold and unreadable. He did not look at the newspaper, nor did he look at the man by the door. His presence seemed to expand, filling every corner of the vast room with a quiet, terrifying power.
"Chichioya"
The single word, spoken with a voice like grinding stone, hung in the air, signaling that the true discussion was only just beginning.
The silence in the room became so heavy it was hard to breathe. The man sitting in the corner, the one who had been restless and swaying, finally grew still.
Slowly, with a deliberate and ancient grace, he turned his head over his shoulder.
As the light hit his face, it revealed eyes that did not look human. They were like two moons made of polished glass—wide, pale, and pulsing with a silent, terrifying power.
These were the purest Byakugan the village had seen in generations, eyes that could see through walls, through skin, and into the very souls of men.
The mystery of the room finally fell away, revealing the three pillars of the most powerful family in the village.
The man in the crisp white kimono, sitting with the posture of a Lord and sipping his tea with cold precision, was Hyuga Hiashi, the current Head of the Hyuga Clan.
His word was law, and his presence was as unyielding as the mountain itself.
The man standing by the shadows of the door, the one who bore the dark, cursed mark of the branch house on his forehead, was Hyuga Hizashi.
He was Hiashi's twin brother—born with the same face, but a vastly different fate, bound forever to serve and protect the main line.
And the man who had turned his shoulder, the one with the hauntingly pure eyes and the weight of a thousand secrets in his gaze, was Hyuga Kozuki.
He was the Former Clan Head and the father of the two brothers. Even by giving up his post as the 'Clan Head', his shadow loomed large over the estate, and his voice carried the authority of the ancestors.
The three men sat in a perfect triangle of power, the air between them thick with the news of the ten children and the dark future of the village.
The atmosphere inside the room shifted from cold to lethal. Hiashi set his tea cup down on the wooden floor with a click that sounded like a gavel in a courtroom. He didn't look toward the door, but his eyes seemed to pierce through the paper screens.
"We need to change the servants of this household," Hiashi said, his voice a low, vibrating hum of authority.
"They are going out of hand. Their ears have grown too long, and their discipline has withered like autumn leaves."
Outside, in the shadowed corridor, the maid's heart didn't just beat—it thundered. She was still pressed against the wall, her breath hitched in her throat, having stayed to listen when she should have fled.
Hearing her fate decided by the Clan Head sent a jolt of pure ice through her veins.
She turned and began to run. The polished floorboards felt like slick ice under her feet. The scent of old incense and the cold, damp air of the estate chased her. She ran until she rounded a corner and nearly collided with a wall of dark fabric.
She skidded to a halt, gasping. Standing before her was an elderly woman with silver hair pulled into a bun so tight it seemed to stretch her skin.
This was the Head of the Women Servants, her eyes sharp and unforgiving. The maid stood trembling, the silence of the hallway feeling like a physical weight pressing her into the floor.
Back inside the room, the heavy tension broke for a brief moment. Kozuki, watched the steam rise from his tea, his pale, ancient eyes reflecting the soft morning light.
"Alright," Kozuki spoke, his voice carrying the rasp of age but the strength of iron.
"You can change the staff if you feel the discipline has faded. But..." He paused, his gaze shifting toward the door where the maid had just been.
"Do not change Yurie," he continued, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"She is one of the loyal ones. She has served this family since before you were born, Hiashi. Her eyes see much, but her heart belongs to the Hyuga."
Hiashi remained perfectly still, his hand resting on the mat, acknowledging his father's words with a silent, sharp nod.
Near the door, Hizashi tightened his grip on the newspaper, the mark on his forehead hidden in the shadows as the family's decision was sealed.
Outside, Yurie narrowed her eyes at the frightened girl, her silence a reminder of the absolute order that kept the house standing.
The room returned to its frozen state, the only sound being the soft clink of porcelain as Hiashi lifted his tea cup.
He took a slow, methodical sip, the steam rising to mask his unreadable expression.
Without looking up, he gave a sharp, subtle flick of his fingers—a silent command for the reading to resume.
Hizashi cleared his throat, his eyes dropping back to the ink on the page. "Ten children..." he repeated, his voice barely a whisper in the vast, quiet space.
"From the beginning," Hiashi interrupted, his voice like cold silk. "I want to hear the full report, not just the fragments."
Hizashi adjusted his grip on the newspaper, the paper rustling like dry leaves.
"Ten young shinobi, claiming to be orphans from the Mizu no Kuni, were discovered seeking refuge within the borders of Tetsu no Kuni."
A sudden, sharp huff of breath came from the corner. Kozuki shifted his weight, his pale eyes narrowing with a flash of irritation.
"Why must we dwell on the stray dogs of a failing nation?" the elder man grumbled, his voice thick with annoyance.
"Read something better, something worthy of this house's time. I did not wake this morning to hear of children wandering in the snow."
Hizashi paused, his gaze lingering on the next line of the report. He didn't close the paper. Instead, he looked toward his father, the dark symbol on his forehead seeming to sharpen in the dim light.
"Wait, Chichioya," he said softly, his tone turning grave.
"There is more to this than just orphans. There is a detail here you need to hear."
Hiashi moved with a slow, hypnotic grace, lifting the tea cup toward his face.
"One of them," Hizashi continued, his voice dropping to a low, heavy tone that vibrated through the room, "is recognized to be a member of..."
The steam curled around his nose, and he was just about to let the liquid touch his lips.
"...THE UCHIHA CLAN"
The silence that followed was deafening. Hiashi did not drink. He did not set the cup down. He simply froze, his grip on the porcelain tightening just enough to be noticed.
In the corner, Kozuki's irritation vanished instantly. He leaned forward, a sharp, cold light appearing in his pale eyes. A slow, thin smile began to pull at the corners of his mouth—a look of dark satisfaction.
"What do you mean, the Uchiha?" Kozuki asked, his voice now filled with a sudden, cruel energy.
"A child of the 'elite clan' found begging like a stray in Tetsu no Kuni?"
His eyes glittered with a predatory happiness.
For the former leader, this wasn't just news; it was a gift. Anything that stained the golden reputation of the Uchiha was a victory for the Hyuga, and the thought of their rivals' shame was better than any tea he had tasted all morning.
Hiashi slowly lowered the tea cup, setting it back onto the wooden floor with a soft, hollow thud. He remained calm, his face like a mask of cold stone.
"Chichioya, do not jump to conclusions so quickly," Hiashi said, his voice steady and careful.
"It is possible that the young shinobi was simply sent away on a mission. We should not assume the worst of their clan until we have the facts."
Kozuki let out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed through the quiet room. He adjusted his position, his pale eyes flashing with a mix of amusement and annoyance.
"Oh, my son," Kozuki said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I may be old, but do not think for a second that my mind has gone soft or that my powers have been taken from me. I keep a close watch on every single mission detail to this day—especially those involving the Uchiha."
He leaned forward, his gaze intensifying as he looked at Hiashi.
"I know for a fact that they would never send a mere child on a mission of such high stakes to a foreign land like Tetsu no Kuni," Kozuki continued, a smirk playing on his lips.
"The Uchiha are many things, but they are not fools. If a child of theirs is found wandering out there, it isn't for a mission. It's a disgrace."
The room grew even colder as the weight of his words sank in. Hizashi looked down at the newspaper, his grip tightening on the page, while the shadow of a great scandal began to loom over the village's golden clan.
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📊 BATTLE REPORT: 62 -KONOHA 📊
WINNER- Hyuga Kozuki ☯️ ⬜
SNEAK PEAK LINES 💬
"There is no profit in this for us. It is a waste of time to dwell on their failures."
"He will bury this"
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—With love, one forehead poke away from collapse,
Sakura Shinomiya 💫
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