"Nagahiko, you try."
The replacement summoned to the platform, Hyuga Nagahiko, was already ten years old. Theoretically, pitting a seven-year-old ninja against a ten-year-old was akin to having a kindergartener fight a fifth grader in elementary school. Considering the amplification provided by chakra, the developmental gap might even be more pronounced than that comparison suggested. A typical seven-year-old's chakra reserves were practically negligible, whereas a ten-year-old would have already completed four demanding years of training at the Ninja Academy.
However, this was merely the typical scenario. Hyuga Neji, as was becoming increasingly apparent, was a distinct exception—partly due to his exceptional innate talent, and partly, unbeknownst to most observers, due to the recent, special 'bio-modification' he had undergone courtesy of Habara.
At the referee's sharp signal, the second fight began. Hyuga Nagahiko's arm moved with the speed and fluidity of a striking snake. Almost simultaneously with the start signal, he shot forward aggressively, his flattened hand already chopping sideways in a vicious arc aimed directly at Neji's vulnerable neck.
Compared to a seven-year-old's smaller frame, the ten-year-old naturally possessed longer limbs and greater reach, granting him a clear advantage in close-quarters combat. Yet, facing this fierce and immediate opening attack, the chakra radiating visibly from Hyuga Neji surged instantaneously, climbing higher and higher in palpable waves of power.
He clenched his left fist, bending his arm sharply upwards, expertly using the midpoint of his forearm to intercept and block Nagahiko's incoming strike. With a mere, almost casual, flick of his upper arm, he easily deflected and cast the older boy's attacking limb aside.
Immediately relaxing his left hand from the fist, Neji brought his thumb, index, and middle fingers together into a precise, beak-like shape. With a sharp downward snap of his wrist and a whip-like motion of his entire arm, his fingertips accurately and powerfully struck Nagahiko's shoulder at a critical pressure point.
Hyuga Nagahiko instantly lost all control of his targeted arm; it hung completely uselessly at his side as if the bone itself had been shattered. This wasn't mere brute force; it was a perfectly executed Gentle Fist pressure point strike, delivered with Neji's already characteristic speed, precision, and terrifying ruthlessness.
But beyond the undeniable technical skill displayed, anyone among the onlookers with discerning eyes – particularly the experienced Jōnin and elders present – could clearly see something even more astonishing. During that brief, explosive moment of physical contact, Neji had actually overpowered his significantly older and physically larger opponent. That was precisely why his defensive maneuver and subsequent counterattack had seemed so effortless, so fluidly executed. While the ten-year-old boy inherently possessed superior physical conditioning compared to the seven-year-old, that advantage had been completely negated, even decisively surpassed, by the sheer disparity in their ambient chakra strength.
The gap in their raw chakra levels, it seemed, was now far greater and more impactful than the mere physical gap between them.
Having instantly neutralized the threat from his opponent's right side, Neji seamlessly flowed into his next move, taking a swift step forward. His right leg deftly hooked behind Nagahiko's knee, and with a sharp downward application of force, he buckled the older boy's stance, forcing him stumbling down onto one knee.
Before Nagahiko could even attempt to recover his balance, Neji's left hand shot forward again, the speed and menacing intent of the strike far more palpable than his opponent's initial attack had been. His fingertips, hardened with chakra, aimed directly for Nagahiko's vulnerable eyes.
One shouldn't pause to question why sparring matches between children learning to be shinobi were so inherently brutal—a direct strike aimed at the neck, a potentially blinding jab aimed at the eyes. This wasn't playtime; this was training for ninja, future soldiers and assassins. Weren't real ninja battles, by their very nature, treacherous and unforgivingly lethal?
Just as Neji's fingers were about to reach their intended target, almost close enough to brush against Nagahiko's eyelashes, his wrist was suddenly caught fast in an iron, unyielding grip. The referee, the supervising Hyuga instructor, had intervened at the last possible fraction of a second, stopping the potentially crippling blow just short of impact.
"Thud," Nagahiko's other knee hit the padded floor mats as his balance failed completely.
"Battle over! Winner, Hyuga Neji!" the instructor declared formally, his voice loud and clear in the suddenly silent dojo.
Even while announcing the decisive result, the supervising Hyuga ninja kept a firm, restraining hold on Neji's wrist, perhaps as a subtle reminder of control or a warning against excessive force. It was clear to observant eyes that Neji had somewhat overestimated his opponent's durability, or perhaps significantly underestimated his own dramatic leap in strength and speed over the past few days. Faced with an older 'senior' opponent, he might have subconsciously wanted to truly test his newly enhanced limits and ended up unleashing something closer to his full, unrestrained power.
The outcome of this brief but decisive battle sent ripples of hushed, astonished discussion through the assembled onlookers. Even after Neji stepped down gracefully from the sparring platform, the murmurs and reassessments didn't immediately cease.
Having witnessed Neji's stunning performance as a new benchmark, the subsequent sparring matches between other students seemed rather dull and uninspired by comparison. After witnessing this display firsthand, everyone present from the Hyuga clan, from the youngest student to the oldest elder, was forced to seriously re-evaluate Hyuga Neji's already acknowledged talent. Although he had previously carried the weighty reputation of a clan genius, it now seemed undeniable that his true potential far exceeded even their most optimistic prior estimations.
This realization was both a blessing for the clan's future strength and a significant complication. Neji's Branch Family status fundamentally prevented the Main Branch elders from simply celebrating the emergence of a new, potentially transcendent prodigy without reservation. He was clearly destined to be exceptional, perhaps generationally so, but... he was Branch Family, marked by the seal, bound by tradition.
Returning to stand beside Habara and his father, Neji showed no outward signs of arrogance or excessive pride despite his decisive victory in the practice match. On the contrary, when he turned to his teacher and asked, "Habara-sensei, how was my performance?" he seemed quite subdued, perhaps genuinely worried that Habara, with his exacting standards, might find fault or deem the display insufficient.
"Very good," Habara offered his simple, yet meaningful, praise. "Not bad at all."
Hizashi, standing beside them, looked as though he might spontaneously combust from a complex mixture of overwhelming emotions. He opened his mouth, perhaps intending to praise his son, but no coherent words came out. The soaring excitement and pride he had felt just moments ago watching Neji's flawless execution had now curdled into something closer to choked indignation and helpless frustration as the political reality of the situation crashed down upon him. The pride remained, fierce and undeniable, but now it was painfully mixed with a helpless anger he could only bury deep inside his heart.
No one understood the crushing implications of the Caged Bird Seal better than Hizashi, having borne it himself his entire life. But what could he possibly do for his exceptionally gifted son now? Neji's talent was so obviously outstanding, clearly far surpassing many of the coddled Main Branch children currently training alongside him, but... the system was immutable.
Habara's reaction, naturally, was less emotionally charged. However, it was only when he registered the complex anguish etched onto Hizashi's face, and noted the collective, stony frowning among Hiashi and the assembled elders, that the immediate political consequence of Neji's display became perfectly, starkly clear.
Habara found the situation almost darkly amusing in its predictability. To the entrenched powers of the Main Branch, Neji demonstrating such prodigious, perhaps uncontrollable, talent was apparently akin to him suddenly developing rabies – a dangerous affliction requiring immediate and absolute restraint, needing a metaphorical leash. Perhaps they had already collectively judged that Branch Family members like Neji, particularly those displaying exceptional ability, would inevitably contract this 'disease' of ambition or resentment if allowed to grow too strong unchecked. Therefore, preventative measures – rigorous 'taming' and reinforcement of control – were deemed necessary, starting now, before the 'infection' could fully manifest.
In a twisted, cynical way, Habara had to concede, their underlying judgment wasn't entirely wrong from a purely pragmatic, control-oriented perspective. Truly talented and powerful individuals rarely submit willingly or indefinitely to external control and subjugation.
Predictably, after the formal training session concluded, the Main Branch members—Clan Head Hiashi and the accompanying elders—summoned Hizashi over with curt gestures.
"Hizashi, wait a moment. We have something important to discuss with you regarding Neji," Hiashi stated formally, his expression unreadable.
Habara immediately understood exactly what this 'discussion' would entail.
"Excuse me," Habara interjected politely but with unmistakable firmness, stopping just as Hizashi was about to obediently follow his brother and the elders towards a side room. "If this discussion concerns my student, Hyuga Neji, may I perhaps remain and listen? As you are all aware, he is my first official disciple, and I find myself quite… fond of him and invested in his development."
The Main Branch members clearly hadn't anticipated Habara making such a bold request, essentially inviting himself into their private clan council. Perhaps they were simply too accustomed to their unquestioned authority within the Hyuga compound, casually planning to 'deal with' the fate of a Branch family student right in front of his newly appointed, non-Hyuga teacher. They inherently felt that internal clan matters were absolutely no place for outsiders, regardless of circumstance. Habara brazenly insisting on staying behind must have seemed incredibly impudent, a blatant disregard for established hierarchy and protocol. One of the elders, a particularly stern-looking man, shot Habara a dark, warning glare.
Hyuga Hiashi hesitated for a moment. If Habara were to make a public issue of being excluded now, particularly after Neji's stunning display, it wouldn't reflect well on the Main Branch's image of fairness or transparency. It might even subtly imply they were plotting something nefarious or unjust behind closed doors. A prestigious, ancient clan like the Hyuga couldn't afford that kind of public disgrace or loss of face… even though, in their own rigidly structured minds, applying the Caged Bird Seal to a Branch family member was a necessary, time-honored tradition, not something shameful or needing secrecy at all.
"Very well," Hiashi conceded reluctantly, choosing pragmatism over bruised pride. "Habara-sensei is indeed involved with Neji's training and well-being. Please, come with us."
Habara offered a slight, acknowledging nod, and he and the internally conflicted Hizashi followed Hiashi and the procession of elders into a private inner meeting room within the dojo complex. Once inside, they all took seats formally on arranged floor cushions.
"Neji's talent is plain for all to see," Hiashi began without preamble once they were settled, his voice resonating with the authority of the Clan Head. "It is precisely because of this undeniable potential that I, along with the council of elders, believe the time has come to apply the Curse Seal to him." He paused, letting the weight of the declaration settle. "The Byakugan belongs not only to the individual ninja possessing it but fundamentally to the entire Hyuga clan. Therefore, it is our sacred duty to ensure its secrets are never stolen or exploited by forces outside our village. Especially a Byakugan demonstrating such remarkably pure dōjutsu power as Neji's potentially will—it absolutely cannot be allowed to fall into enemy hands. You all know that many hostile villages and shadowy organizations constantly covet the power of the Byakugan."
"Brother… No, Clan Head," Hizashi began immediately, his voice strained with suppressed emotion,
"His age does not matter," Hiashi interrupted sharply, cutting off his younger brother's nascent protest with practiced finality. "And the seal will not hinder Neji's talent or its development. Isn't that correct?" He stated the official, unassailable clan doctrine as absolute fact, simultaneously reminding Hizashi of his subordinate position and the required public stance on the matter. As Clan Head, Hiashi's responsibilities forced his position to be inherently opposed to the personal interests of his Branch Family brother in this context. He had to maintain his role, uphold tradition.
Hizashi opened his mouth again, perhaps to argue further, but then closed it, utterly defeated. No words came out. He was internally consumed by fury, yet possessed no legitimate outlet for it; profoundly grateful to Habara for Neji's progress, yet utterly unable to support him openly against the clan leadership; deeply disgusted with his brother and his rigid clansmen, yet incapable of making any meaningful counter-move against centuries of entrenched tradition.
"Ahem," Habara cleared his throat deliberately, drawing all eyes in the tense room towards him. "Allow me to say something on this matter." He paused, ensuring he had their full attention. "Your clan's Curse Seal… I have generally heard how it functions and what it represents. On that note, I must make one point unequivocally clear: because Hyuga Neji is currently participating in a vital, ongoing experiment under my direct supervision—an experiment assisting us in the development of a very important, potentially groundbreaking ninjutsu for Konoha's benefit—he absolutely cannot receive this Curse Seal at this present time. Doing so would introduce unnecessary variables and could potentially interfere catastrophically with our research."
"Absolutely not!" one elder exclaimed instantly.
"Insolence!" roared another – the same stern-faced elder named Shoya who had glared at Habara earlier. He slammed his hand forcefully on the low table before him and surged aggressively to his feet. "Habara Jōnin! The internal affairs of the Hyuga clan are none of your concern! Utilizing the Curse Seal to protect the Byakugan of the Branch Family is a sacred tradition passed down within our clan for centuries! It is emphatically not for an outsider like you to interfere with!" His tone was now openly hostile, dripping with contempt.
"Even the highest levels of Konoha leadership have no right to meddle in our internal clan matters!" Elder Shoya continued, his voice rising in righteous indignation, clearly incensed by Habara's audacity. "This was the solemn agreement established between the revered First Hokage and the heads of the founding clans when Konoha itself was formed! Does an ignorant, disrespectful junior like you dare presume to question or overturn such foundational principles?!"
Habara simply shook his head slowly, a faint, almost pitying smile touching his lips. "Reasoning should be based on sound logic and current realities, Elder. What does this ancient history truly have to do with seniority or blind adherence to outdated precedents? You invoke the First Hokage? With all due respect, the esteemed old man has been deceased for many, many years. Go ask the current Third Hokage if he considers every single word the First ever spoke to be immutable, divine law applicable in all circumstances today."
Habara calmly, deliberately stood up as well, meeting the elder's glare without flinching. "Matters concerning the welfare and strategic interests of Konoha as a whole fall under the purview of the Hokage and the village advisory council. As for you, esteemed elders…" Habara, given his proximity to the core of Konoha's power structure through his ANBU connections and association with Kushina, naturally recognized most of these influential figures. His gaze swept coolly over the assembled Main Branch members, naming them mentally or perhaps even softly aloud… "Ashi, Koizumi, Kōgo, Kōyō, Morimoto… and Shoya, the one currently making such a regrettable scene."
He found the entire situation almost laughable, if it weren't so pathetic. "How can people of your standing possess such remarkably low emotional intelligence?" he mused aloud, though his tone was anything but amused. "You could have simply delayed this matter, stalled for time. Nobody explicitly said Neji wouldn't eventually follow your customs. Why force this confrontation now? Were you so determined to make everyone tear off the thin masks of civility and reveal the ugliness beneath?"
His voice dropped slightly, taking on a sharper edge. "Bones in a grave, yelping madly. Do you dare continue this pointless chattering?" He addressed Elder Shoya directly now, though his gaze encompassed them all. "Are you people so accustomed to your petty internal squabbles, running your little 'Hyuga 48' drama club behind closed doors where no one outside cares or interferes? Did you truly think you could just open the door and perform your centuries-old traditions of oppression and control for an outside audience without comment? That's not quite right, you see, because…" He let the implication hang, heavy in the air. "...some things, some 'traditions,' are simply wrong by any objective measure. Like inherent incompetence holding positions of high authority while spouting self-serving nonsense, while those with genuine capability remain suppressed and silent solely due to birthright. Like blatantly treating fellow clan members, fellow Konoha ninja, as little more than indentured slaves, trampling their potential underfoot without a second thought. Like viewing extraordinary talent in others not as a blessing for the clan, but as a personal threat to be deliberately extinguished or chained..." He paused again, letting his words sink in. "I find I can express a justified opinion on such matters. Let alone point out such blatant, self-serving hypocrisy."
"Insolence! How dare you speak to us this way?! Do you think you can overturn the very foundations upon which Konoha stands?!" Elder Shoya roared, completely losing his composure, his face contorted with fury. Perhaps it was the sudden eruption of long-simmering rage, or perhaps in his arrogance, he'd forgotten or dismissed the reports detailing Habara's proven capabilities. After all, few individuals in living memory had dared speak to a Hyuga Main Branch elder with such open contempt. Elders were accustomed to deference, even from high-ranking Jōnin; theoretically, Habara should defer as well, showing proper respect for his seniors, regardless of his personal opinions.
Hiashi saw the killing intent flash in Shoya's eyes and realized the elder was about to attack Habara directly within the sacred Hyuga dojo. He tried to intervene physically—"Shoya, wait!"—but he was too late.
Blinded by fury and wounded pride, Elder Shoya charged Habara.
Facing the charging elder, chakra suddenly, violently erupted from Habara's body like a physical shockwave. He spun on the balls of his feet, launching a powerful, blurringly fast sweeping kick aimed at Shoya's midsection. Yet, even before his physical leg made contact, something invisible yet tangibly solid as a reinforced wall—a construct of pure, pressurized chakra coiled around his attacking limb—slammed heavily into Elder Shoya's unprepared body first.
The Hyuga elder was thrown back violently, uncontrollably, as if struck by a massive, unseen hammer. The immense impact carried his body backward with enough force to shatter a thick, half-meter wide square wooden support pillar like brittle kindling. He continued tumbling, crashing through the paper-thin shoji screen wall behind the pillar, finally slamming headfirst with sickening force into the perpendicular ninety-degree corner joining two walls of another adjacent building within the compound. There was a distinct, unpleasant crunching sound of impact.
Only then did the delayed shockwave of the initial chakra impact seem to hit the dojo building itself, causing the entire section near the point of Habara's attack to visibly sag and partially collapse inward with a groan of stressed timbers.
Habara casually waved away the settling dust and debris particles from the air before him, not even bothering to glance in the direction of the fallen, likely severely injured, elder. He turned his calm, unwavering attention back to the remaining, utterly stunned and silenced Main Branch members.
"You might not know," Habara continued conversationally, his voice echoing slightly in the shocked, sudden stillness of the room, seemingly picking up right where he left off, "but there exists a certain type of person in this world. When they find it convenient or agreeable to abide by the established rules, they willingly abide by those rules. But," his eyes hardened slightly, "if they find themselves unwilling to abide by certain rules… then it is simply the rules themselves that must inevitably change."
He paused, letting the quiet threat resonate. "Now," he asked Hiashi directly, his tone shifting back to business, "how long would this 'experiment' of yours typically take?" He was referring, quite clearly, to the process of applying and allowing the Caged Bird Seal to fully settle and bind to its host.
"It's… it's hard to say precisely," Hiashi stalled again, visibly shaken, likely trying desperately to buy time or gauge Habara's true intentions and limits. "Perhaps… three to five years for full integration and adaptation?" It was a vague, delaying answer.
"Then," Habara cut him off smoothly, showing no inclination to negotiate, "I can only express my deepest, most sincere apologies for any inconvenience this may cause your clan." His voice became cold, devoid of any previous politeness. "Konoha's broader strategic interests—specifically, the successful completion of my ongoing research project involving Hyuga Neji—currently outweigh the internal traditional interests of one specific clan. Therefore, until I, personally, grant my explicit permission, none of you," his gaze swept across Hiashi and the remaining elders, "have the right to do anything to Hyuga Neji that could potentially interfere with his current status or my work."
"What?!" another elder gasped, outraged but clearly intimidated.
"This is… unacceptable…" Hiashi murmured, though his protest lacked any real force.
"Then," Habara stated flatly, his decision made, his eyes meeting Hiashi's directly, seemingly offering a final, stark choice, "if you cannot accept these terms, we must immediately sever the so-called teacher-student relationship currently established between myself and Hyuga Neji. The choice is yours." He then turned his gaze pointedly towards Hizashi. "Hizashi, what do you say?" He placed the onus, unfairly perhaps, back onto the conflicted father.
The accidental confluence of events today – Neji's unexpected power surge, Habara's presence, the elders' reaction – was likely something neither side had truly wanted or anticipated, but it had happened nonetheless. The previous efforts by Hizashi and Habara to maintain a facade of civility and respect for tradition were now irrevocably shattered.
Now, Hiashi found himself in an impossible position. He had to somehow consider how to appease the dangerously powerful and unpredictable Habara, potentially mend the diplomatic relationship with Habara's likely backer, Kushina (who, despite seeming reasonable on the surface, was known to possess a fierce temper and Uzumaki tenacity when crossed), all while managing the internal fallout within his own clan… Hiashi suddenly felt, with profound weariness, that he was the one who should be sighing long and hard in utter exasperation.